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sunlightmurdock · 2 months

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you don’t have to be a star | bob floyd

hey, hey, hey lover, I love you just the way you are.

in which after being outshone by his colleagues, Bob takes a moment of reflection with his soon-to-be wife before bed. For @ohtobeleah’s Galentine's Day Special <3

warnings: Bob being a little insecure, Jake being a little shit, kissing and allusions to sex. Adults cuddling and touching each other, nothing that isn’t PG-13. WC: 2.1k

…

Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin is a force of nature, and has been for as long as anyone can remember. For some, he’s intolerable. For others, he’s irresistible. People rarely fall in the middle when it comes to their alignment with Hangman — devotion or despisement.

For you, he’s someone that you will always be indebted to. If it wasn’t for Jake, you would have never met the love of your life.

Two summers ago, you had been at a small gathering for a friend’s party in one of the bars in the Coronado Beach area, and apparently you had caught the eye of the troublesome blonde.

You hadn’t noticed him feigning for your attention with his steely green gaze, or talking about you coolly with his buddies. No, your first experience with Jake was him sauntering up to you, leaning one elbow against the bar and hitting you with a sloped grin. “How’s your night treating ya, sweetheart?”

But, if it wasn’t for Jake Seresin trying his hardest to get into your pants that one night in August, you never would have met Bob.

You would later learn that other people didn’t have quite the same problem you did. As Jake had swept you over to his corner of the bar for a game of pool that he was hoping would lead to much more, you just couldn’t help but notice the man sitting by the window.

His hand curled around a root beer bottle, thin wire-rimmed glasses sitting across the bridge of his nose, and a single chestnut coloured curl dangling onto his forehead.

The routine way he would roll those pretty, Disney-blue eyes, and scoff against his root beer at each smooth line that had rolled off of Jake Seresin’s tongue. Just like you, he knew Jake’s game, and didn’t find it a particularly engaging one to play.

Long after the sun had set and right about the time last orders were called, Jake still hadn’t seemed to give up on the idea of taking you home — and he was being nice about it — but your mind had been made up a long time before.

You had just sunk the eight-ball, and Jake was calling for a rematch. Your lips had just quirked softly, hoping that he would take the hint after this one. “I think I’d rather look for a more worthy opponent.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake had grinned to you, heavily amused by the idea of there being anyone in this bar more worthy than himself. “Like who?”

Bob remembers bashfully how you had turned to him, cocked your head and smiled. God — he probably looked like such an idiot, all shocked like that. He could have been so much cooler, could have answered faster when you had asked,

“How about you?”

But the sheepish nod he had given you seemed to do the trick. He left that evening with your phone number, and now, two years later, he’s wandering through your house in his socks calling your name.

“Damn,” You pop out from the closet a few paces behind him, making him flinch and suck in a sharp breath. “The government name? — What’d I do to deserve that?”

He softens into a smile as he turns around and reaches out for you. Happily, you step out from the closet and let him wrap his arms loosely around your waist.

“Well, the first twenty times I called, you didn’t answer, so,” He leans in real slow, tilting his head to the left and pecks softly at your lips. “Figured I’d try something new, honey.”

“Right, well,” A smile tugs at your lips as you reach up to wipe the transferred lip gloss from his mouth. “What can I help you with, Mr. Floyd?”

Not long now until he gets to call you by that name too. By the end of the year, you’ll be Mrs. Floyd and he still can’t quite believe that he’s so lucky.

“Can’t… figure out this damn thing, d’you think maybe you could help me?” He asks, gesturing down to the unfastened black bow tie around his neck. It makes you smile wider.

All of the wonderful, incredible things that Bob Floyd can do, and he just can’t figure out a bow tie.

“Sure thing, handsome,” You tell him, hands already getting to work with evening out the sides around his collar. “If you’ll reach up on that top shelf in there and grab my shoes once I’m done.”

Ah, so that’s why you were hiding in the closet. Bob hums. “Sounds like a fair deal.”

As you fasten the black silk into a uniformed bow, Bob glances down at your dress, and then back up to study your face. “You look beautiful.”

“Yeah.” You answer playfully, plucking at the bow to test its sturdiness, and dipping in for another kiss. Firm and longing — giving you an idea of exactly how he’s planning to start getting you out of that dress later tonight.

Tonight is Bradley Bradshaw’s thirty-sixth birthday party, organized by his wife. She pulled out all the stops and required a black-tie dress code. Her events are always good fun and tonight is no different.

A buzzing garden party with string lights and music — some of it provided by Rooster himself. Photos of Bradley through his adulthood and adolescence are strung up around the party, reminders of how loved he is by the people around him.

It’s an incredible night. You have a blast, laughing and dancing with the people you have grown to love over the course of your relationship with Bob.

But, on the drive home, you can’t help but notice that something seems to have rattled your soon-to-be husband. He’s quiet in the car. Once you’re home, he sulks inside and kicks his shoes off in the hall, shaking off his bow tie and heading straight for the bedroom.

Curious, you follow behind him with furrowed brows.

“Hold it right there, mister.” You tease him, making him stop in his tracks. You follow him into the dark bedroom, crossing over the carpeted floor and positioning yourself right in front of him. There’s a stern look on your face, peering up at him.

“Robert Floyd, are you bored of my company or something?”

He scoffs weakly, fingers curling around your waist, then tugging you into him. He nuzzles the tip of his nose into your hair and revels in the smell of your shampoo.

“Lieutenant Commander Robert Floyd, baby.” He reminds you. You jab him playfully in the ribs and he chuckles under his breath. “‘M just tired, is all.”

It’s not the truth. Really, Bob has known throughout your relationship with him that you could have done better. Jake wasn’t the only guy after you the night that you met.

Sometimes, it just plays on his mind that maybe you settled when it came to choosing him.

Especially on nights where Hangman shows up in the honeymoon phase with some new girl and makes that everyone else’s business. This wasn’t the first girl he has dangled under your nose, reminding you of what you could have had — playfully, of course. To Jake, it’s all good fun.

To Bob, it’s something different.

You squint up at him dubiously, then reach forwards and untuck his shirt from his pants. His gaze falls, watching you start to unbutton it for him.

“That’s it?” You prompt him, smoothing your palms across his bare stomach and up his chest, pushing his open shirt back off of his shoulders. He curls his fingers into the material of your dress, quiet. Your lips press softly to his clavicle, dragging down the warm skin of his pec.

He closes his eyes and breathes.

“Just… wonder if I’m enough sometimes, I guess.” He rushes out with closed eyes and a firm hold on you, like you could be gone when he opened them again if he couldn’t feel you.

Eyes open, you pull away from his chest and look at him.

“Enough?”

His cheeks grow hot. He starts to bite at his lip, his eyes shifting to the carpet. He’s always messing up with what he says. There’s always a better way to say it, and he never realizes until after.

You can see his brain working away, battling itself as he criticizes his behaviour.

“I’m not — showy.” He stumbles for the words and sighs, leaning his head back. “Sorry. I’m just trying to say… I’m trying to say that I’m sorry that I’m not the kind of guy to sweep you off your feet in front of everyone.”

Oh. This is about Jake. Jake showing off on the dance floor with his new girlfriend, throwing her around like she was weightless and kissing her like he was about to fuck her right then and there.

Your lips quirk at the idea.

He’s quiet as you lean in again, starting at the divet between his collarbones and kissing your way across his shoulder.

“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want to be swept off of my feet in front of everyone?” You ask him, pulling the leather of his belt from the buckle and unfastening it softly. Bob watches you, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“No, maybe not, but — y’know, you deserve to be… shown off like that.” He mumbles, letting you undress him. He steps out of his slacks and turns you around, gently pulling down the zipper of your dress.

As it hits the ground and you turn to face him once more, he’s surprised to find you smiling at him. Grinning, almost.

“What?” He whispers.

“Sit down, cowboy.” You answer, nodding towards the edge of the bed. He frowns, but complies, perching on the edge of your shared bed. You drape your arms across his shoulders and straddle his hips, humming as you kiss him.

“If I wanted to be Hangman’s trophy, I could have been,” You shrug calmly and your fiancé wrinkles his nose at the thought. “I don’t want anyone else.”

He swallows, letting his open palm flow along the length of your back and down onto your ass.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I want you with me, but I wish… I wish I was more, for you.” Your wedding has been playing on his mind a lot recently — an entire day where all eyes will be on the two of you. You deserve someone who will shine as much as you do.

Kissing his mouth, his jaw, then his temple, you squeeze your arms around his shoulders and rock yourself just slightly in his lap.

“Do you want to know why I said I would marry you, Bobby?” You ask him, stroking a curl back off of his forehead. His arms hook firm around your waist, turning you swiftly and planting his weight on top of you. Mm, he hums.

You smile softly as he leans in to kiss at your neck, tenderly stroking your hair out of the way.

“You’re wonderful, and kind and handsome,” Is a relatively strong starting point, but doesn’t do much to sway him. He keeps on kissing. “Animals love you, which I love. You let me sit on your lap when you play the drums, which is really hot. Your handiwork has saved me from almost electrocuting myself so many times.”

He chuckles against your chest; that one is true.

“You remembered my coffee order the first time that you heard it. You still get scared when I sneak up on you. You took the time to teach me about the things you love, and learn about the things I love.”

Bob glances up at you from your navel, pressing a soft kiss to your skin, his palms smoothing along your thighs.

“You’re the last person I think about at night, and the first person I think about in the morning,” You tell him, stroking your fingers tenderly through his curls. He sits up and covers your body with his once more, kissing your mouth. Inches from his face, you lift your palm and stroke your fingers across his cheek. “You’re funnier than anyone I know, and I love that our inside jokes are just ours. So much of our life is just ours.”

He nods his head, his nose brushing your cheek.

“Doesn’t all of that sound like enough?” You ask him.

He leans in for another kiss, soft and slow, rather than answering you.

“You don’t have to be like those guys for me to love you, Bobby,” You decide, secure in the decision and equally secure in the ring that sits on your finger. His lips quirk softly as your legs wrap around his waist. “All I want is the way that you love me, and understand me, and all of you — for the rest of my life.”

Smiling finally, he nudges the tip of his nose against yours and kisses you deeply, pressing you down into your shared bed.

“That sounds like a fair deal.”

…

#leahs galentines day special #Bob Floyd #Robert Floyd #Robert Bob Floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you

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grimm-writings · 1 month

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rainfall

…ft! dazai, chuuya, fyodor x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, some hurt/comfort on dazai’s, headcanon format, rainy day off with the boys!

…wc! 308 ; 369 ; 345 = 1022

…notes! i don’t think i’ve ever seen fluffy idiot content of fyodor. i must rectify this.

Dazai

Dazai treasures rainy days more than anything.

“Oops sorry Kunikida, I can’t come in to work!!! Rain is just sooo heavy you know?”

The office is literally down the block he’s just not bothered

Who needs work when he has his beautiful partner?!

That’s what he whispers to you with a giggle and a grin as he nuzzles into your back.

Most times, that’s all it really comes to: a sleepy Dazai, cute compliments, and being lovingly held against your will.

Other days, it isn’t so easy.

He’s like a rock. The only notion you have that he’s awake is one of his eyes staring at the window outside, at the rain. He doesn’t even message about his absence in advance this time – that’s up to you.

He isn’t as snuggly, but he doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him and holding him.

Eating isn’t exactly something on his mind on these sort of days. Even with that in mind, he’s always sure to quietly thank you when you hand-feed him meals.

Those days are difficult, but you make them easier.

“You have work today, right? Don’t bother with the dishes,” Dazai calls out to you from the bedroom. The clattering of the porcelain couldn’t exactly be hidden, you admit. Dazai sighs as you continue washing and drying. New weight on the bed behind him makes him aware of your presence a few minutes later. Your arms wrap around him without hesitation. “You don’t have to stay,” he says to you when the silence becomes too much for him. You merely snuggle further into his bandaged body. “Yeah. I want to, though.” To his own surprise, Dazai relaxes into your touch and words. “...Well.” He smiles for the first time all day, softly, and his eyes linger up to the rainfall again. “If you say so.”

Chuuya

Days off are all too rare in Chuuya’s line of work.

As soon as he’s free, he’s tiredly at your side, and he is not leaving.

Seriously he is … so clingy when he’s tired. Whether you’re shorter or taller than him, prepare for his arms to be slung over your shoulders and his face in your hair.

Mention it to him and he’s grumbling all crabby lol.

You’ll have to wake up in the mornings to his work clothes sloppily discarded throughout the hallway to your room. He wanted to conk out STAT.

He insists he’ll pick it up later (when he’s getting dressed for work again)

Rainy days aren’t exactly anything that stops him from working, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take the opportunity to call in for a day off once in a while. He can almost hear the smile on Mori’s face over the phone telling him to enjoy it.

He’s fairly average at cooking when he eventually does get up, maybe sometime in early afternoon. If he’s too sleepy though? …Yeah, keep him away from the heat.

Overall, it feels… super domestic having these free days with him. He wouldn’t mind this every day, if the opportunity presents itself.

If you knew you’d be greeted to this, you would have woken up a little earlier to at least catch him. “Mornin’!” Chuuya leans back against the kitchen counter, breakfast on the table between you two. A tired smirk is on his face, proud of his cooking. Simply dressed in his work shirt and his boxers, the look of him is just too much for you to handle right now. You walk over to give him a small peck on the cheek, thanking him gently. As you eat, wondering what it’d be like if he could make you breakfast every morning, you glance up and point a fork at him. “After this, I want some snuggles for at least another hour.” Chuuya couldn’t stop himself from scoffing playfully at your ‘threat’, resting his chin on his palm. “Well… I’ll see what I can do.” You smile, digging back into your food. You know he wouldn’t let you go once you’re back under covers.

Fyodor

It all started with you judgementally asking if he even has a life outside his work.

You didn’t expect him to get so offended, but his glance over and raised eyebrow gave you all you needed to know about his answer.

The next morning, you didn’t expect to actually have him be beside you as you shake slumber off you. He’s almost always at his computer by the time you’re up.

It’s not as if Fyodor is neglectful in any way, he’s just … a little peculiar in his habits, for lack of any nicer terms.

Before you could even ask, he’s already greeting you in a gentle voice, tacking on a sweet nickname on the end of it.

Oh. Oh he was awake the whole time.

This is a competition to him.

You could almost sigh in disbelief. For someone supposedly so intelligent and wise, he sure has his moments.

Rainy days with Fyodor are spent with him suggesting activities to do together, but it’s very obvious he just put “at home activities” in the search bar and clicked the first link.

You don’t remember having this many board games. How did he do this.

The night comes to a close as Fyodor sits with you in his lap, finishing up some professionally recorded opera of sorts. You couldn’t understand half of it, but Fyodor laughed at it a few times, so it must have been good. His chin rests on your shoulder and you can feel his smile. “So, did I prove you wrong?” “...What, about having a life?” You can’t help but roll your eyes. “You sure proved something alright.” Fyodor hums, sarcasm dripping from just that single note. “You should treat me more fairly. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.” You would bite back with another retort, if not for Fyodor twisting his neck so he could peck your lips before resting back against the chair. Trying to ignore the flush of your cheeks, you sigh. “You’ll get it with practice.” “Ah, so there IS a next time.” “Shut it.”

#✮ grimm's fics!#bsd #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd scenarios #bsd fluff #bsd headcanons #osamu dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #fyodor fluff #bungou stray dogs

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mukumukunomi · 6 months

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Not Alone. Never Alone. (part 1)

Luffy x Fem!Reader

cw: fluff, no smut, first love, implied semi-relationship, no manga spoilers, takes place just after East Blue's arc in live action, idiots in love

wc: 1,663

a/n: This is part one of a a short and sweet two parter. I'll be uploading it soon hopefully! Still thinking of more cute one-shots I can write as well. Part two will be linked below

Part Two (Luffy)

❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦

You tell him that getting involved would result in disaster.

But Luffy is a magnet for disaster. He’s chaos incarnate. Brutally honest to a flaw with a kindness that shatters ideals and shakes the foundation of the world. It’s as rare as it is maddening.

“I'm serious. It’s better if I go alone tonight instead of tomorrow.”

The words bite through the silence. It actually forces Luffy away from shoveling the food in his mouth as he eyes you up and down.

“Where are we going?”

You sigh. He’s not listening to you. Not really. The words are going in but not processing. Luffy always does it when he hears something he doesn’t like. He simply states what he wants instead like the universe will bend itself to his will.

Maybe it does.

“Not ‘we’. I am going to go to the island. Me. Not you.”

Luffy frowns. You know he doesn’t doubt your strength nor your character. But it’s the subtle narrowing of his eyes and the way he slowly chews his food that gives his emotions away. He’s annoyed, you think.

“I don’t want ya’ to go alone.”

You sigh dramatically. He’s like a petulant child. His reasoning confounds you. “I’ll be careful.”

He breaks gaze with you to take another huge bite of meat. It’s impressive how he manages to scarf it down in the span of two minutes before he’s once again berating you. “But I can be stealthy!”

You wipe a crumb from his cheek. His face is twisted, eyes avoiding you. He whistles a broken tune mainly because he’s terrible at whistling. Sweat drips down his face. All the tells convincing you that your captain would be terrible poker player. “Leave the lying to Usopp. It’s not your forte. And leave the stealthiness to me. It’s my forte.”

His concern isn’t unwarranted. You're sneaking into the lair of people who once held you as a short-time captive long ago. They’re not as fearsome as some of the pirates you and the crew have encountered, but nevertheless have connections to people you’d rather avoid.

You’re wanted in more waters than the prospective King of the Pirates beside you. The ties of your family and the status they have in this world make it so you’re looking over your shoulder at all times. You’ve never known freedom until the strange being named Monkey D. Luffy stumbled into your life.

But you know the layout of this particular place, and it has something the crew requires. Without it they can’t continue their journey forward. And you’d be damned if you were the one holding them back.

“It’ll be quick. In and out. They’ll never even know! I spent a lot of time there as a prisoner so-.”

Luffy slams the meat bone onto the plate in front of him. He calls Sanji for more. Sanji’s disgruntled reply echoes from the kitchen to your place on the deck. You almost think the thing is settled until Luffy’s blazing eyes meet yours again.

The words are harsh. “I’m going.”

“Luffy, we don’t need to waste time on something I can handle myse-”

“That’s an order from the captain.”

His voice holds no cheerfulness. He’s never used that tone with you before. It’s the tone of finality. It means that Luffy has heard you out and he’s overruling you. You’ve seen him use it on people. You’ve never had it used on you before. The abruptness of it makes you stand.

Hurt flares in your chest. Did he not trust you? Did he actually think you were weak? The logical part of your brain screams ‘no!’ but it’s buried in the torrent of emotions. Here was a chance to prove just how useful you could be. Prove you belonged on this crew. Why did he have to be so difficult?

Luffy’s attention diverts again. He settles back into his mantra of consuming whatever is in front of him as Sanji places another plate of meat down. You make eye contact with the cook, who simply shrugs at the mood the captain is in. You huff in anger and decide being anywhere else is better than talking to the brick wall with a straw hat.

Habit finds you in the main meeting area of the Going Merry. Besides the currently absent presence of Sanji in the small kitchen, the crew’s swordsman is dozing lazily in the corner of the common space. You can’t tell if he’s supposed to be sharpening his sword or is sneaking the booze supply. It surprises you to see him in cohabitation with Sanji in the same room at all.

You plop next to Zoro. You draw your knees up to your chest and rest your elbows on your knees. You let out a long, dragged out keening noise of frustration.

“He shut you down, huh?”

Without looking, you smack his shoulder. Zoro simply scoffs as he tries to get more comfortable against the wall. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You eye his form. “You said he’d be stubborn. Nami suggested I wait until he was eating to try to convince him.”

Zoro shifts the Wado Ichimonji on his hip. “Yeah, Nami’s right about that. He’s pretty susceptible when food’s on offer. You can convince him to do almost anything.”

The groan that is your reply is muffled by your arms. "Apparently not everything."

He taps the hilt of the blade on your head. “Problem wasn’t the timing. It was the subject.”

Your brows scrunch together. “The subject?”

“You.”

“You’re saying that I’m the problem.”

Zoro smirks. “Yup.”

You shove his shoulder at his shit-eating grin. Luffy and you care for each other. More than friendship. Not quite romantic. You're not sure if he even knows how to be. So you both settle for a comfortable in-between where labels are irrelevant. You’re free to explore this feeling between you two and see where it leads. Despite his naivete, there’s a quiet confidence in Luffy’s chaste kisses. In lingering touches and odd looks that make your heart rate elevate. There are moments where you wonder if he truly knows the effect he has on you.

You’re in love with him. So in love with him. You don’t know how deep his love for you runs. It terrifies you.

Your indignant snort reverberates the space. “I don’t understand.”

The moss-head rolls his eyes at you and takes a swig of a bottle. “If you don’t understand then you may be an even bigger idiot than he is.”

You decide that the room is more stuffy as you feel hot embarrassment at his remark. “At least I’m an idiot that can find my way around.”

The swordsman makes an interesting coughing noise as you get up and exit back onto the deck.

Going Merry is docked at the north end of the inlet. It shrouds your little caravel just enough that you can still see the top of the fortress that lies beyond the hill to the south. You can see that the clouds are beginning to move eastward as a warm wind blows from the storm front to the west. Luffy is no longer where he was, but you can hear the echoes of his voice from below. Sanji passes you to return to the kitchen to clean up and lock the fridge, which will hopefully keep a certain pest (captain) away. You begin descending the stairs to the main deck as Sanji and Zoro’s voices start to hurl insults at each other from behind.

The only one who remains on deck is Nami, who’s staring at a map of the island on the flat end of an upright barrel. An oil lamp burns beside her to give light. You rest your chin on her shoulder and hum at the layout. “That’s wrong.”

You point to the secret entrance Nami’s drawn. “It’s just to the west of the hill at the base. And that forest stretches all the way to the coastline too.”

Nami frowns and marks the correction with a pen. “Damn, I’ll have to redraw again at some point.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You say, voice turning bitter. “It’s not worth that kind of effort.”

You hope to never see this island again after this.

Nami simply raises an eyebrow. “You sound upset. What did Luffy say?”

You tend to forget how perceptive the navigator is. “He ordered me to let him come. Ordered! Like a captain! Can you believe that?”

“Ah. Well he is the captain.” Nami clicks her tongue, “Serious tone and all too?”

You nod. “Any chance of still changing his mind?”

The tangerine colored strands of her hair flow gently in the breeze as Nami laughs. “Absolutely not. But maybe it’s for the best. We both know how stubborn he can be.”

She snuffs the oil lamp out and folds the map to put in her pocket. Without the warm light, the ship is suddenly shrouded in an eerie darkness. The only light left is from the pale glow of the moon. Nami shifts her attention back to you. “Heading to bed. You?”

Usopp’s snores have already begun to resound across the ship. There are heavy footsteps below you from the men’s quarters. There’s a brief moment of loud talking and heavy things being thrown before peace once again returns to the Going Merry.

You gaze up at the stars. “In a minute. I forgot something in the kitchen.”

The navigator yawns as she walks away. You watch her disappear below. There’s a heavy feeling in your gut as you move towards the ship’s railing. You peer over it, gazing at the strip of land alongside your ship.

Luffy could be stubborn. But so could you.

The warm air turns cold as you inhale shakily. You do a double take of the surroundings again to make sure you’re alone.

“Sorry, Luffy.”

You throw the rope ladder down and descend as quietly as possible.

#monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece #opla #monkey d. luffy #muku'sfics #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #one piece x reader

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lovelyney · 8 months

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─────DATING THEM !! SUMERU WOMEN─────

CHARACTERS: candace, collei, dehya, layla, nilou

SCENT: headcanons

WARNINGS: none! ♡♡

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

꒱₊˚ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐂𝐄 !! 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐎𝐖

𖠵𝟎𝟏: Your girlfriend, guardian and bodyguard combined into one 😭 We all know she’s known for her mom-like attitude. . . Well, that applies to you too !!

𖠵𝟎𝟐: She isn’t necessarily protective or possessive over you, because she knows you’re well capable o handling yourself, dangerous situation or not. She just likes to keep an eye on whoever you’re chatting too make sure they don’t try anything.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: A lot of the kids in Aura Village see you two as their older siblings or their parents !! She thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: She likes to tease that you two are the parents of Cyno, Alhaitham, and Dehya, LMAO. Cause you are, lowkey. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Doesn’t take too kindly to people abusing you, physically or verbally.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Her trust in you is unwavering, so she doesn’t get jealous very often if at all. However, she’ll always willing to step in if some desperate idiot won’t leave you alone.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: If she sees you getting shy because of her, she will use that to her advantage and tease you ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Calls you “honey/hon,” “darling,” “(my) love,” and “qamari.” (Which is “my moon” in arabic!)

❝Hm? Ah, welcome back, darling. . . You’re back from your commissions awfully early; I haven’t even finished lunch yet. . . Oh dear, what’s with the cloudy expression? Has something happened? Sit down, my love, you’ve exhausted yourself enough for the day. . . I’ll brew you some rose tea and you can tell me what you wish. Does that sound good?❞

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Always gives you a gentle yet stern lecture whenever you get yourself injured; she can’t find it in her to remain upset with you ‹/3

𖠵𝟏𝟎: One of the most loveliest people you can go to if you’re feeling upset in any way. She offers the best advice and will always let you rest in her arms.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Always gives you a forehead kiss before seeing you off somewhere (:

𖠵𝟏𝟐: If she overhears someone raising their voice at you in aggression, she’ll walk over and give them a death glare almost immediately shutting them up.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Always priorities your safety and well-being. For example, if she sees you’re working yourself into a panic when you’re talking with someone, she’ll excuse the two of you and take somewhere quieter and calm you down.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Arguments are incredibly rare between the two of you; she’s very patient and always tries to see your view of things.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: On the nights you’re more overworked/stressed, she’ll hum you quietly to sleep.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Quite the romantic! she loves to keep you on your toes, hehe.

꒱₊˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐈 !! 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇

𖠵𝟎𝟎: AN ANGEL !1!1 MY ANGEL !1! I LOVE HER SO MUCH 😡

𖠵𝟎𝟏: It took quite some time for Tighnari to convince her to confess to you ): She was scared and insecure because of her lack of experience ‹/3

when you two did start dating, Tighnari gave you a very stern glare as a warning. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟐: She was a little scared of initiating affection because of her Eleazar. However, with the amount of patience and kindness you showed her, she warmed up overtime !! ‹3

𖠵𝟎𝟑: (↑) And afterwards, she absolutely loves showing and giving you affection !! Her love language isn’t exactly touch, but she still loves giving you small actions of love !! (:

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Her love language is definitely gift giving !! She loves to craft and/or make you things !! Whether that be stuffed animals, clothes, food, etc. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Tighnari likes to ask if you can tag along with her on some of the more tedious expeditions because he trusts you to take care of her.

pushing aside his first initial protectiveness, Tighnari also saw to it that he took you under his wing as well. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟔: (↑) Despite lacking a romantic relationship himself, he gives her relatively genuine advice when it comes to you !! He can tell how serious she is about you and vice versa ‹3

𖠵𝟎𝟕: “Love/lovebug,” “sweetheart,” and “(my) sunshine.”

❝Good morning, lovebug! I hope you slept okay! Um, I know you’ve been struggling to eat recently so—so I made you some breakfast! I remember you telling me how much you loved my cooking when we first met, s—so please, eat up! I’ll even make you more if you’d like!❞

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Writes about you to Amber !1! You can’t hear or see her, but the outrider is fangirling all the way over in Monstandt, LMAO.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Really wants you to take you on a vacation to Monstandt so that you can meet all her friends there !! )): ‹33

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Gets really bad panic attacks whenever you get yourself seriously injured 😭 Tighnari has to calm her down when they’re taking care of you.

she will stay by your side to the moment you’re in there to the point you exit )):

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Flower-picking and picnics are two common occurrences when it comes to the two of you !!

𖠵𝟏𝟐: (↑) One of her favorite things to do is braid together flower crowns with you !! She always makes sure hers as the prettiest flowers so it matches your beauty ‹3

𖠵𝟏𝟑: She loves resting with you because it puts her mind to ease but she’s always too shy to ask if you can sleep with her.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Always tries to bring you back the prettiest flowers from her expeditions. If not flowers, than something among the lines of a pretty rock or jewel she came across on.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Is trying to actively work on her confidence so she doesn’t hesitant when showing you affection !! )):

꒱₊˚ 𝐃𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐀 !! 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄-𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄

𖠵𝟎𝟏: Mom girlfriend #02 ‼️‼️🫶

𖠵𝟎𝟐: A little similar to Candace, she’s a tad bit more on the protective side, though. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟑: (↑) Don’t let that distract you from the fact that she only wants the best for you !! She always tells you how much you mean to her and how devastated she’d be if something happened to you.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Always makes sure you’re well protected whenever you go out (especially if she’s not with you) because of her line of work; she hates that you have a target on your back because of her.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: As I mentioned, she’s protective. So, if she sees someone actively hurting or making you uncomfortable, she wastes no time stepping in and setting things straight.

would go to extreme lengths to protect you !! even if you protest against it, she sets a goal for herself, that, as your girlfriend, she has to protect you no matter the cost😡😡

𖠵𝟎𝟔: A lot of people are surprised to see her actively showing you PDA in public because they thought she’d be too “cutthroat” for it; boy, were they wrong. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Likes to have a hand on you one way or another whenever you’re sitting together. On your leg, waist, arm, etc. . . It’s just her way of showing you that she’s with you no matter what’s said.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: “Baby/babe,” “dear,” “(little) lamb,” and “(my) warrior.”

❝Ah, welcome back, little lamb. Woah! There’s practically steam blowing out of your ears. . . Sit down, babe take a deep breath, will you? What happened? Some guy hasn’t been leaving you alone lately? Really. . . Lamb, do you remember the last place you saw him? I can guarantee he won’t ever lay a finger on you ever again.❞

𖠵𝟎𝟗: You are one of things that calm her down almost instantly.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Your smile is one the things she lives to protect !1!1!1 She absolutely hates seeing you upset over something or someone.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: If it’s because of an argument you two had or something she’s said, she’s already thinking of a way to make things right when she walks away.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: When she protected Dunyunzard, she always liked to talk about you to her !! The girl was absolutely thrilled to meet you when she did.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Takes you out on the most adventurous dates !! It’s almost never boring when you’re with her.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: She once overheard someone say that she dated you for the mora and she had to physically hold herself back from beating the hell out of them.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: If you’re doing some kind of training with her she’ll stop the second she recognizes you getting exhausted. She hates seeing you overworked.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: (↑) And if you’re traveling with her and she sees you starting to drag your feet, she’ll immediately pick you up and won’t take no for an answer.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Talks about you to others like a proud mom.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: When she first introduced you to the guys, a few of them actually ogled and attempted to flirt with you. She found it nothing short of amusing.

꒱₊˚ 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐀 !! 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

𖠵𝟎𝟏: She has the sleep schedule of a struggling college student, so good luck trying to get her to sleep ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟐: Nobody really knows how you two got together ?? They think you’re really cute together, nonetheless. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟑: You’re really the only one that can successfully drag her bed; she can’t resist your cuddles, especially when she’s sleepy. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟒: If you notice her research is piling up, you’ll offer to help her out with what you can; she’ll always gratefully accept ‹3

𖠵𝟎𝟓: She’s somehow always thinking of you. . . If she sees something that reminds you of her, she’ll be like: “oh. . . (NAME) would love something like this.”

𖠵𝟎𝟔: She always gets so flustered whenever someone brings up your relationship because she isn’t used to social interaction. save her pls 💔💔

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Calls you “starlight/star,” “moonlight/moon,” and “lovely.”

❝Starlight? Um, are—are you by chance busy at the moment? I—I can come back later if you aren’t! Nono! It’s. . . it’s not because I need your assistance. It’s just. . . I was wondering if you’d like to visit the new cafe that opened? I—I know we haven’t had much time for dates lately be. . . because of work, and I. . . I feel really bad.❞

𖠵𝟎𝟖: You can tell when she’s really getting tired because she starts clinging to you.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: More than once she’s fallen asleep while cuddling you. your body warmth isn’t something she can resist easily.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: When she finds herself slipping, she thinks of you to get herself through !!

𖠵𝟏𝟏: She doesn’t get jealous, but she’ll always cling to you more if someone won’t leave you alone.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Whines whenever you leave to get up before her ☹️

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Let’s say you leave her little cute posted notes to encourage her with her work; she keeps literally all of them.

꒱₊˚ 𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐔 !! 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𖠵𝟎𝟏: I imagine Nilou being one of sweetest people in all of Sumeru, and that’s definitely amped if you’re dating her.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: You’re support for her when she’s dancing is one of the things she keeps dear to her heart. Knowing you’re supporting her, she feels like she can dance the night away. (Dah da dah da let’s dance the night away.💃)

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Her eyes will light up like stars if you were to ever ask her to teach you how to dance.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Returning to the mention of being supportive, she’s also incredibly supportive of your endeavors. That is if it doesn’t include you injuring yourself or putting yourself in harm’s way. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟓: A golden retriever girlfriend !! She loves any kind of affection you give her and welcomes it no matter the place.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: “Darling,” “flower,” “my love,” “light of my life” and “lotus.”

❝My love! I just found out some exciting news! The Zubayr Theater is holding a ballroom dance in honor of their anniversary! Would you please do the honors of accompanying me to it? ❞

𖠵𝟎𝟕: A lot of people in the theater like to joke that you two act like parents to the smaller kids.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: “I dedicate this dance to my wonderful lover, (NAME)!”

𖠵𝟎𝟗: You two are talked about a lot within gossiping girls because they wish they had a relationship likes you.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Bringing her small snacks and drinks during her rehearsals so she doesn’t overexert herself.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: This might not as a surprise, but she loves dancing with you !!

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Since she’s normally a peacemaker, she hates fighting with you with a passion.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: (↑) She also hates seeing you upset and/or said. It shatters her heart into a million pieces and she’ll do all she can to make you feel you better.

FLORIST’S NOTE: OK OK! AFTER 1394394 YEARS, I FINALLY DID MY GIRLIE POPS <//3 now, i’m going to add Kaveh to the Sumeru boys and then i’ll get to work on the fontaine chars <33 i’d like to mention that college has started for me and i have work, so forgive me for the slow updates.

#꒱₊˚ fawn’s flowers #꒱₊˚ kalpalatas #genshin impact #candace genshin #collei genshin #dehya genshin #layla genshin #nilou genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #candace x reader #collei x reader #dehya x reader #layla x reader #nilou x reader

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s1ater · 8 months

Text

lorenzo’s luck.

pairings. mobster!slytherin boys x fem!reader

about. in which it’s been a rough couple of weeks and lorenzo is facing the heat of it all.

warnings. swearing, a beating,

ricky rocks. okay, new idea sense i’ve been watching the sopranos lately and writing generic slytherin boys is getting boring for me rn… also i’ve been seeing some stuff abt lorenzo on tiktok and even something on here and i think i characterized him totally wrong? but also not because i read the book (but not really) he originally came from and he didn’t seem as sweet and innocent as people play him as. idk, i’ll stick to what i have now but lmk what y’all think ig

everything and everyone was on edge.

for the past two weeks the feds had been down your neck, jeopardizing your whole lifestyle and way of work.

everyone was in a pissy mood because of it—because when the feds were on your ass, that meant having to be careful, and your job was hard thing to be careful about when every move you made was highly incriminating. so when being careful, you barely got to work, and no work meant no profit.

it was hard to specify exactly what you did.

you were a mobster.

there it is, in the simplest form.

there was a lot of pressure in being one, especially when law enforcement was there to make things ten times harder.

and it wasn’t only affecting you, but entirety of your group;

“you’re a fuckin’ idiot, lorenzo, you realize that? take a fuckin’ look at yourself in the mirror and stare at something that isn’t just your face and realize you’re a fool,” mattheo’s voice erupts so suddenly through the air, startling all of you. “get your shit together.”

it was already starting. you, theodore, blaise, lorenzo, and mattheo had just barely taken a step into one of the many backrooms of the businesses mattheo’s father owned when the composure came fumbling down.

lorenzo had just barely sat his ass in one of the leather seats when the attention was pinned to him, “jesus, what’s up you’re ass m?” he laughs, but you can tell it’s a nervous one. “jesus.”

you glance to theodore who winces at the response like it was his own. that was the worst possible thing to say, especially to mattheo, especially right now where his anger and frustration was at an all time high.

you can see that anger pulse through his skin in a spike as he finally seems to processes lorenzo’s antagonizing words.

oh boy.

“fuckin’ saved your ass, enzo. you know what my fathers saying? that you’re a loose fucking cannon and i need to let you go,” he has his hand raised, shaking it in his face. “and you know what? we don’t let people go. there’s no such thing as letting someone go in our business. that’s a rare ever occurrence.”

letting someone go is disposing them. taking them out to the back and putting them down like a dog.

“get your head on straight and don’t you forget that you wouldn’t be here without me, because you’d be dead.”

“you act like you’re so fucking clear minded,” he huffs, leaning his head against the palm of hand.

that was enough.

mattheo swings himself around, throwing his fist into the face of enzo as hard as he can. you flinch at the sound of enzo’s nose cracking beneath the contact of mattheo's knuckles. you feel yourself tense up at the noise not letting up, but rather playing over and over, filling the room with ugly sounds of punches fill the room.

“mattheo-“

your call out is cut off as theodore takes your shoulder, pulling you back, “don’t.”

“he’s going to kill him.”

“he won’t,” he pulls you even closer and further away from the violent scene unfolding before you all, tightening his grip. “lorenzo’s too viable.”

he was right. even as enzo was a loose canon, he brought in a lot of profit and kept his end clean… for the most part.

lo was too salient for mattheo to kill, but his loud mouth was enough to tip mattheo over the edge.

it was a perfect way for him to blow off steam; beating in the face of his friend.

***

“don’t you look like a dime.”

it’s been a week since mattheo went on his little rampage, and you were now just seeing lorenzo in his healing state.

you’re smiling up at him, pinching his cheek as he rolls his eyes to your attention, “yeah, yeah, get off my back.”

he looked far from a dime; his nose was broken causing both his eyes to sport dark rings of bruising around them while the lining of his jaw was turning a dark purple and yellow.

“you and mattheo civil now?”

“define your idea of civil.”

“well, you’re not dead, so I assume you two are as civil as civil gets in mattheo’s terms.”

he scoffs, “yeah, well, let’s hope mattheo and his father are on the same page and I don’t end up dead in the next week.”

over a month ago, some of lorenzo’s boys hijacked a truck everyone was told specifically not to mess with despite the fair amount of profit that could come from it. and unfortunately, they dug themselves an already deep hole, deeper by obtaining the truck through a casualty.

lorenzo had received the blame, despite it having nothing to do with him other than the men being under his supervision and responsibility. he had to pay for it, and he did…

“you’re on the higher end of things, he won’t kill you.”

“that’d be the exact reason for him to kill me,” lorenzo corrects you. “I’m on the higher end for a reason, i can’t fuck up.”

you press your lips into a thin line at the thought of his words. mattheo’s beating must’ve really enlightened lorenzo because there was rarely ever a moment you caught him in such a grave mood where he was so in touch with reality.

his attitude on life was light and so unserious; you were unsure on how mattheo even recruited him when that was the exact opposite that this job sought out for. but then again, the boy recruited all of you.

“then don’t fuck up,” he laughs lightly, but it’s caught in the back of his throat. “again.”

“great advice, y/l/n,” he glances at you, “really got that one on the nose.”

“don’t be a douche,” you slap him lightly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, lo. you’re alive, you’ll stay that way too as long as you don’t press your luck.”

“hard to press my luck when I don’t have any in the first place.”

you gaze at the side of his face, attempting to gage the general emotion or even thought process going through his head, but there was nothing. not even his usual perma-smile could be found.

***

“someone approached me awhile ago-“

“who?”

“doesn’t matter who—a clients girlfriend,” lorenzo is anxious, pacing back and forth before all of you in the backyard of mattheo’s home. “i was offered a deal.”

you wince immediately.

lorenzo had collected the whole lot of you; everyone except mattheo. you all sat on his back deck, fixating between the full beautiful greenery backyard of the riddle home and lorenzo, who hadn't spoken till now.

a deal.

he should’ve stopped there.

“a deal?” blaise arched a brow, now leaning on his forearms that rest on his knees. “what kind of deal?”

you all knew exactly what type of deal it was.

enzo’s eyes don’t reach any yours, but he’s stopped pacing, wondering whether he should really speak it now.

don’t say it.

“immunity,” he says it flat out, bringing truth to all of your thoughts. but he doesn’t seem ashamed to this with the way he looks at each and every one of you in the eye finally. “she said once we all get impounded, there’s a way out for me.”

once. not if.

“i tell them everything. i rat every single one of you out and i’m given immunity.”

you all look up at him like he’s crazy. and he is; to be speaking like this to a bunch of mobsters—threatening the entirety of their life and business is crazy.

“we get thirty years plus. there’s no doubt. they get us and we’re already laid in our graves before trial because what we’ve done is absurd-“

“are you saying you’re a rat, berkshire?”

“no,” he shakes his head fast. “no, not at all.”

“that’s not what i’m hearing,” draco shakes his head. “i’m hearing you’re getting nervous with all this recent snooping of the feds and you’re fuckin’ rat.”

“fuck off, malfoy. i’m just telling you what i was told. i’m not a goddamn rat. i’d have to be mental to give up all we’ve done-“ his hand finds his forehead and he’s pacing again. “fuck if i even remember half of it.”

you’re all back to silence, thinking about this. rat or not, this did not look good for him.

your eyes suddenly settle on the light and distant bruising under enzo’s eyes; finally healing. you think about mattheo beating in his face over and over, and then you think about what he’d do if he ever found out about lorenzo’s offer.

“they have a lot of shit on mattheo.”

you all look back up to lorenzo now, a certain interest now crossing each of you again.

“what type of shit exactly?”

“type of shit you don’t get parole with… or out of jail for that matter,” he looks even more stressed than before. “she said the rest of you could have chances of a life after serving. not him.”

this wasn’t a surprise. mattheo always had a quality that none of you did when it came to getting things done; something sociopathic. he always took risk without question of consequence. he moved in silence, he didn’t hesitate, didn’t think, he always got things done faster than all of you combined.

so if mattheo did something beyond all of your usual tasks, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“i mean that makes sense, matty’s been at this longer than the rest of us,” you reasoned it out, only to be stopped immediately.

“no, you don’t understand,” enzo shook his head.

“what exactly are we not understanding here, enzo? you seem to know something, so why don’t you just spit it out,” theodore sits up, speaking for once. there’s obvious annoyance and distaste in his mouth as he stares at the boy before you with a narrowed look.

lorenzo pauses, looking back at him with the same look. you can tell there’s a thought process behind his eyes, and his anxiousness is slowly melting away.

“you know, where do you guys think this is all going? genuinely. you think we’re going to spend the next couple of months running clubs, collecting money, and beating up the occasional person that’s late on their payments for fun?” lorenzo has turned sour, looking at each of you almost as if he hates you all for your ignorance. “this is for life, and we’re only at the beginning point.”

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once-upon-an-imagine · 1 year

Note

I don’t know if the Dialogue is still a thing but what about George getting caught making out with a girl but the person who caught them told everyone it was Fred who has a very lovely girlfriend who he adores!

yes, it still a thing and I love this! ❤️ Warnings: accusations of cheating but that's pretty much it Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter 😁 gif isn’t mine 😊

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Wrong Twin

"FREDERICK GIDEON WEASLEY!"

"What did you do?" you chuckled, looking at the twin on your left.

"Sounds like you're dead, Freddie" George said to your right as the three of you saw Angelina bursting into the Common Room, looking livid, stomping her way to her boyfriend. Katie and Alicia followed behind her.

"How could you?" she asked as Fred stood up, confused.

"Uh, before I admit to anything, could you please tell me what you're talking about-?" Fred was interrupted when Angelina smacked her hand against his cheek.

"Holy shit" George muttered as you sat closer to him.

"How could you?" she said, with her eyes welling up. "I can't believe you would cheat on me!"

"What?" Fred asked at the same time you and Geroge did too. "Sweetheart, what are you talking about?!"

"Don't try to deny it! Katie and Alicia saw you" she said, furiously as you noticed the wondering eyes in the Common Room turning your way. "And you!" she then said pointing at you. "How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends!"

"Whoa, Angie, what are you talking about?"

"Katie and Alicia saw you yesterday!" she snapped. "The entire school knows! I feel like such an idiot!"

"Wait, what exactly did Katie and Alicia see?" Fred asked, still extremely confused.

"They saw you kissing my boyfriend!" she said, pointing at you before she tried to throw herself at you but Fred quickly grabbed her, pulling her away and you hid behind George and Lee, who had now joined the conversation.

"Angie, that never happened! I would never cheat on you! I love you, darling!" Fred tried to reason with her.

"Angelina, I have never kissed Fred in my life!" you assured her. "I would never do that to you!"

"Stop lying! We saw you!" Katie told you.

"I'm not lying! I don't know what you saw! But I swear, Angie, I have never kissed Fred!"

"Well, either you were kissing Fred or someone who looked identically like-" Lee stopped abruptly, his eyes falling on George, who was blushing furiously. "Oh... OH! Holy shit!" he laughed as he noticed Geroge blush furiously and you felt your cheeks burning.

"Well, I guess it's out now" George muttered.

"Wait, what is going on?" Fred asked, still confused and then he looked between you and his twin. "OH MERLIN! YOU KISSED GEORGE?!"

"Oh, Merlin!" the two girls said, realizing their mistake. "It was you and George?!"

"Um... well, y-yes" you admitted as George grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him.

"Wait, so you two didn't think of George before you thought that I would cheat on my girlfriend?!" Fred asked, a little upset.

"You said George had detention yesterday!" the girls said, remembering their conversation.

"He did! He asked me to cover for him because he said he had something important to do" he said, raising his eyebrows at George.

"Well, it was important! We rarely get to spend time together without all of you meddling in our business!" George defended himself.

"Oh, Merlin, Freddie, I'm so sorry" Angelina said, hugging him and kissing his cheek. "I should have talked to you first, I was just really upset and-"

"It's okay, darling, I get it" Fred smiled, kissing her cheek before she went over to you and hugged you.

"I'm so sorry, love" she told you.

"It's okay, Angie. I would have been upset too" you told her.

"So... how long has this been going on?" she smirked as she pulled away pointing at you and George.

"Couple of weeks" George said, pulling you to him again and kissing your temple.

"Sorry we caused this whole mess" Katie and Alicia apologized to you and Fred.

"It's okay. At least now we don't have to hide anymore" you said, looking up at George who gave you a peck on the lips.

"Okay, so from now on that would be a good way to tell you two apart" Lee laughed.

"Who knows? Maybe they're not even sure which twin they are with" George smirked and you and Angelina hit them both on the back of their heads.

"You two really think we wouldn't be able to tell you two apart?" Angelina laughed.

"Yeah, we are the only ones who have been able to tell you apart since we were in first year" you reminded them. "So, good luck with that" you smirked at George.

"I really don't mind, sweetheart. At least I get to do this whenever I want" he smiled, leaning in to kiss you again.

The End

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A/N: hope you loves like it!

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #george weasley #fred weasley #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x angelina johnson #george weasley dialogue #fred weasley dialogue

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jjkeverlast · 11 months

Text

bloodline | jjk #3 (m)

-> pairing fuckboy!jk x fuckgirl!f.reader

-> genres/aus slow burn, friends with benefits au, smut, humor, angst and college au

-> summary a relationship was the last thing you wanted, but having wild and experimenting sex? now that was something, and jeon jungkook is there to give you simply that. as long as either catch feelings... but that won't be hard for you knowing you'd never go for a guy like jungkook, although jungkook might have another opinion about you. let the (fun) begin!

-> word count 4.8k

-> author's note hi? 🤥

masterlist for bloodline

jungkook🙄: wyd rn [3:46 am]

You rub your eyes, squinting as the light shines directly into your eyes. When you catch onto the text, you mumble under your breath.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

you: i’m sleeping [3:48 am]

you: thanks for waking me up idiot [3:48 am]

jungkook🙄: sorry baby [3:48 am]

jungkook🙄: go back to sleep it can wait [3:48 am]

Okay, now you’re curious, so to keep yourself awake you crawl upwards, leaning your back onto your headboard. You know this is his way of keeping your attention, by giving you a tiny taste of something he wants, which increases your curiosity.

you: too late for that [3:49 am]

you: tell me [3:49 am]

jungkook🙄: you sure? [3:49 am]

jungkook🙄: it can wait dw [3:49 am]

you: jungkook istg [3:50 am]

jungkook🙄: all right all right [3:50 am]

jungkook🙄: so remember last time when you sucked me off? [3:50 am]

The event he’s referring to, happened not even two weeks ago. Of course you remember, and the surprise piercings he showed up with. Fuck, that nipple piercing is still deeply engraved in your mind. But then you also remember how he fleeted with an attitude, when you kindly asked him to leave after he got what he wanted. It was indeed weird. He’s not even bringing it up, almost acting as if it never happened.

you: how could i not?? [3:50 am]

you: you do know it happened not even two weeks ago right? [3:50 am]

jungkook🙄: well excuse me for asking [3:50 am]

jungkook🙄: but [3:50 am]

jungkook🙄: fuck how do i say this [3:50 am]

you: lmfao why are you so nervous [3:51 am]

you: it’s just me dude [3:51 am]

you: we’ve seen each other naked so many times pls [3:51 am]

jungkook🙄: shut up [3:51 am]

jungkook🙄: you did something [3:51 am]

jungkook🙄: when you went down on me… [3:51 am]

You take a moment to think. Did you do something different? Not that you’re aware of— or, wait. Does he mean…

you: when i licked your perineum?? [3:51 am]

jungkook🙄: yeah why did you do that [3:51 am]

The response makes you guilty, especially since you did it out of curiosity, aching to please a man in different ways than just a blowjob. When in reality, you hadn’t even thought about what Jungkook would say to this. Yes, you made an agreement that this was strictly sex and to explore different things, but rimjobs were never a topic. Maybe Jungkook sees it as taboo, many do, which is why rimjobs are rarely spoken of when it comes to a woman doing it on a man.

you: sorry koo [3:52 am]

you: i was just curious [3:52 am]

you: next time i’ll promise to ask before acting on instinct [3:52 am]

you: it was never my intention to make you uncomfortable [3:52 am]

jungkook🙄: woah woah woah [3:52 am]

jungkook🙄: slow down babe [3:52 am]

jungkook🙄: that’s not why i asked [3:52 am]

you: what???? [3:52 am]

jungkook🙄: i asked cause… [3:52 am]

jungkook🙄: i haven’t stopped thinking about it [3:52 am]

Oh.

Your eyes open wide, re-reading his message as if it isn’t real. Jeon Jungkook has been thinking about it? He’s been thinking about your tongue elsewhere than on his cock?

jungkook🙄: did i freak you out [3:53 am]

you: no no just didn’t expect it [3:53 am]

jungkook🙄: yeah sorry maybe this was a bad idea [3:53 am]

you: jungkook. [3:53 am]

you: you’re not the only one who’s been thinking about it [3:53 am]

jungkook🙄: i’m not??? [3:53 am]

you: no…[3:53 am]

you: was just unsure if i should bring it up [3:53 am]

jungkook🙄: i can admit that i’ve been repulsed by the idea [3:53 am]

jungkook🙄: but fuck [3:53 am]

jungkook🙄: it felt so fucking good [3:53 am]

you: you liked it?? [3:53 am]

jungkook🙄: babe i might’ve liked it too much [3:53 am]

jungkook🙄: i’ve been watching porn about it cause i was in doubt [3:53 am]

jungkook🙄: now i’m just.. curious about it [3:53 am]

Is he suggesting…

you: yeah? [3:54 am]

jungkook🙄: yeah even though it makes me fucking nervous just thinking about it… [3:54 am]

jungkook🙄: but i definitely want to [3:54 am]

jungkook🙄: with you [3:54 am]

You lose your breath for a second. Never in the months of casually fucking around with Jeon Jungkook, had you expected for him to be so open about rimjobs. So open, that he’s texting you at almost four in the morning about it. But it’s happening, and just the idea of Jungkook lying beneath you, letting you run your mouth wherever makes you wet.

Fuck, you really wanna try this. Even though you’re not certain how exactly it plays out, you do. It’s something new for you both, and just when you had tried other things for the first time, there was great communication and a whole lot of orgasms. So, in the end you’re not too worried.

you: fuck [3:54 am]

you: me too [3:54 am]

jungkook🙄: will you come if i asked you to rn? [3:54 am]

You don’t even hesitate before replying.

you: be there in 15. [3:54 am] read

Saying you’re nervous would be wrong, it’s more excitement you’re driven by as you move towards Jungkook’s front door. As promised, you’re here fifteen minutes after your last text, his apartment only being a few miles from you.

It’s lucky for you that Jungkook lives alone, which also explains why you mostly fuck at his place, but lately it’s been at yours. Not only did it result in Cho-hee catching you both in the act, but you had to sneak him in as well — twice!

Finally, you bring yourself to knock, letting the excitement play with itself as you await for Jungkook to open the door. When he does, you don’t expect to see him in nothing but his black sweatpants. Literally, nothing else.

“Hey–” Jungkook notices how your eyes stay glued on his shiny nipple piercing, smirking when you realize he’s caught you ogling.

“Don’t say it.” Jungkook holds his hands up in surrender, chuckling when he moves aside, letting you step into his entrance.

Jungkook stands patiently, watching you take off your shoes and coat, and that’s when you notice how long his hair has gotten. His hair curls neatly behind his ears, tucked by a headband and fuck, that has to be the hottest thing… along with his piercings you’ve grown very fond of.

You’ve barely stepped inside when Jungkook grabs ahold of your waits, pulling you so your chests knocks into his.

“Wha—“

Jungkook kisses you, slow, almost like a peck and pulls back. His forehead keeps itself leaned onto yours while he softly smiles.

“Well someone’s impatient.” You comment, making his eyes roll.

“Been hard ever since our conversation.” His hand moves down lower, onto your ass, grabbing it to push you close so you can feel— and yeah, he wasn’t kidding.

“Shit.” You mumble under your breath and he hums in agreement.

“Bet you’ve been wet as well.” His voice is so low, it goes straight to your core, only making it worse for you cause you haven’t even been here for two minutes and he’s already pushing all your buttons — which will result in you becoming extremely impatient.

Instead of agreeing to his statement, you kiss him again, longer this time. He complies, opening his lips wider so you can trail your tongue on his lips as you push it in further. It’s wet, messy, warm and you really need to move to a bedroom, or you’re going to end up asking Jungkook to strip down in the middle of his hallway.

“Come on.” He pulls you by the arm, trailing his hand down to intertwine your hands, as he guides you to his bedroom.

Every light in the apartment is off, only his night table lamp still turned on. The room is just as you remember it… very Jungkook. Dark walls, furniture, posters of his favorite bands and white sheets.

He decides to lay down first, sitting up right as he leans on his headboard. You join him, straddling his lap as you go back to kissing him like you did in the hallway. This time, you grind down, feeling how hard he is under you with every motion. God, you’ve missed this.

His upper body feels hot and warm under your palms. Your fingers trail further down, tracing the outline of his abs. You can’t believe he’s this hot. Sure, it occurred to you the first time you spoke to one another, but with time it’s really made you realize how great he looks.

Jungkook has a habit of biting down on your lower lip, always managing to make you moan when he does. The nibbling sensation afterwards has to be the best part as you’re still able to feel it afterwards.

The more he bites, the more you grind down on his covered cock, feeling the outlines as it stretches you out, despite the thick fabric standing in the way. You need it gone.

“Take your pants off.” You breathe out, as you pull away, noticing how flushed Jungkook looks from only kissing you.

You help him out, pushing your hips upwards, so he’s able to take off his pants. He leaves his boxers on, probably to tease you or maybe he just loves edging himself.

“You too.” You nod, moving away from his lap to take off your checkered pajama pants. Jungkook giggles when you whine in frustration when the edges of your pants refuse to pull down.

“Don’t laugh.”

“What? It’s cute.” You scoff in annoyance, finally managing to get them off.

Therefore you return back on his thighs, your covered core rubbing more thoroughly on his hard on. Jungkook bucks his hips to meet yours, your clit pressing down on his tip and shit how come that feels so fucking good?

“Fuck—“ You whine as you pull your lips away from his.

“Baby. Fuck, wanna eat you out.” Jungkook runs his tongue on your neck and down to your cleavage but this was supposed to be about him.

“Not now. Wanna taste you.” You hear the gulp Jungkook does at your words.

“O-okay.” You’ve never seen him like this, all shy before which is probably due to him trying something he never thought he would. It is something that’s slightly strange to many, you’ve been composed to it as well. Until your friend from back home had told you how it was when she went down on her boyfriend. It made you curious, looking up on the internet regarding the infamous rimjob on men. The people speaking about it were mostly women, explaining their own experiences in detail and some open minded men as well who were very open to share how it felt. Somehow as time went by, the idea didn’t become that ridiculous, only tempting.

Thankfully, Jungkook took the same road as you, with porn of course. It could be a good thing, having visuals directly and seeing if you’re into it, but for you it was more than that. You wanted to know how it felt, for the ones receiving and giving and it sounded hot.

There’s a certain comment you’ll always remember.

“My boyfriend has never been loud in bed, always keeping his mouth shut, until I gave him a rimjob and he was fucking whining.”

You thought it wasn’t real. How could you when the only partners you’ve had in bed were quiet, keeping it sufficient with low pants. Until, you took a risk, in your very own bedroom floor and licked Jungkook’s perineum. The sound is still clear as a blue sky, light and choked up. It might’ve been the best sound you’ve ever heard from Jungkook, although he’s been very keen on dirty talk and making you aware of how good it feels for him when he fucks you. No, this was completely different, as if he truly couldn’t hold it in and it simply slipped.

“Do you have lube?” Jungkook’s brows furrow at your question.

“Lube? What do you need that for?”

“You know, if you ask for my fingers…” You’re teasing him and he notices it when you start to chuckle before he falls for your trap.

“No. No fingers in my ass, I’m serious Y/N.” He’s tense in his voice, certain that he would never ask for such a thing.

“We’ll see.” You send him a wink before you move downwards, letting your tongue run freely on his exposed chest. You glance down at the nipple piercing, noticing it’s healed better than the last time and you’re holding everything in you not to run your tongue on the metal. Instead, you run it over his non-pierced one, softly biting down on the nub. The vibrations from Jungkook humming in pleasure course through, making the tip of your tongue slightly tingle.

Reaching the waistband, you look up to make sure this is what Jungkook wants. It’s not that you don’t trust him, people can easily back out when they’re in the moment, but Jungkook only perks his eyebrow, internally asking you why you’re pausing and that's enough of a signal that he wants you to continue.

With a swift pull, you relieve his cock from his briefs, leaving it exposed on his abdomen as you kiss and bite onto his abs. Jungkook tries his best not to move but he’s impatient himself, especially when your cheek brushes against the length of his cock.

“Please, baby don’t tease.”

“Jungkook, we’ve been hooking up for months. You should know by now that it’s my favorite thing to do.” He knows you’re right, since the first time you’ve gotten your hands on each other, you’ve been on a winning streak with teasing him whenever the chance stood.

“I hate you.” He says with a smirk, all while you join in with another wink sent directly to him.

“No,” you grab ahold of the base before continuing, “you don’t.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna fucking kill me one day.” Jungkook breathes out, pleased by your fingers just curling around him. You haven’t even moved your hand yet it still makes Jungkook react as if you did. You and your little temptations… they might actually kill him one day, he’s not wrong.

“Maybe,” you make the first lick, it’s long, slow and wet all the way to his tip, glistening with pre-cum. It adds a certain pride in you, even though this isn’t the first time you’ve made Jungkook wet by barely doing anything. He keeps telling you it’s because you’re a tease, but deep inside your heart, something itches which is a sign there might be more to it. You don’t have time to dwell on it too long, wanting solemnly to focus on Jungkook and every part of him.

Enough teasing from your side, you give him exactly what he needs. Good fucking head. Lips and tongue trailing on every edge of his cock, making it all wet before the warmth of your mouth engulfs him. Jungkook grabs onto your cheek, loving how he’s able to feel the edge of his cock in your mouth while you move your head up and down.

The strokes are slow, along with your mouth, only blowing him to get him a bit more comfortable before you run down lower. Jungkook seems more at ease, pleased with what you’re doing now that teasing is out of the question. Some part of you wants him to beg for it, or just ask nicely for you to do it yet you’re not sure he’ll ever manage to do it.

It already took him two weeks to just admit he’s curious about trying it.

After getting his cock nice and wet, you release it with a pop, moving downward to his balls, licking them and rolling your tongue flatly on them.

“Ah— yes, fuck.” Jungkook moans at the touch, being overly sensitive yet loving your warm tongue on them.

You carefully take one in your mouth, letting it rest in your mouth as you slowly suck inwardly, cautious with not using teeth.

Jungkook fucking loves when you get all messy, not caring where your mouth is on him. His usual hookups were afraid of playing freely with his balls, focusing only on his cock which yes, felt good but there’s something about the rest too that feels completely different. So, when he met you, and you didn’t even think twice as you went down on him, running your mouth everywhere — he knew that it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see you.

Now he’s here, months later, sprawled in his bed with you in between his legs as you do everything that feels good to him. Yes, Jungkook is a fuckboy, and yes he’s mostly known for his wonderful one night stands all over campus but fuck, you’ve always been worth more than that. Everything about you feels like a drug that he can’t get enough of, desperately aching for it.

Jungkook tries his best to keep calm when he sees your head lower, your mouth kissing his perineum softly. But he’s nervous, too nervous to look you in the eyes as you’re about to do it.

“Wait.” You stop immediately, removing your face from his crotch.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, just let me—“ Jungkook looks around, grabbing the pillow to his left and hugging it.

“You can continue now.” He closes his eyes, waiting for that simple touch of your tongue on his rim but it never happens. Jungkook removes his pillow, looking down at you with a confused expression.

“What?”

“I just didn’t expect for you to want to hug a pillow when I’m about to eat your—“

“Don’t say it. Please, I’m nervous, okay? This is a big no touching territory for me. But I trust you, and if anyone does it, I want it to be you.” Jungkook has never been more certain in his tone. He definitely knows he wants to do this with you and no one else. Because, he never really got to know his hookups, until he met you.

“It’s okay to be nervous. Just know we can stop at any moment, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.” You run your hands on his thigh for comfort and the touch does help calm down Jungkook’s burning nerves that have only become worse.

“I want to.” He grabs his pillow again, hugging it, letting you do what you’ve been curious about — the same for him.

“Okay.” You trust him as well, that he knows, so when he doesn’t say more you return back to your previous position.

The night lamp is helping you see only a glimpse of Jungkook’s untouched hole. It looks pretty, and without thinking twice you do what you’ve been wanting to do for months, languidly stroking your tongue on his rim, just once.

“Nghn—“ You hear from above you, a fucking whine. You don’t continue, waiting for Jungkook to say something.

“Holy shit what the fuck?!” He sounds speechless, too stunned about his own noise that slipped past his lips, meanwhile you only feel yourself grow wetter.

The sound was so pretty, so gentle…

“You okay bub?” The nickname just slips out, Jungkook feeling his cheeks grow hot from it.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He is, it felt fucking good and you haven’t even properly eaten him out yet.

So you do it again, a long stroke with your tongue on his rim, coating it with your saliva. The sounds from Jungkook only continue from every action you pursue onto him. You’ve become addicted to the high pitched breathless noises that escapes Jungkook’s mouth due to your tongue.

It doesn’t even taste like anything, you realize quickly. Probably because Jungkook deep cleaned before you arrived, scrubbing as well as he can, because that’s all it tastes like, soap. You're grateful that he took it into consideration before letting you, making it much easier for you as well to enjoy.

“F-fuck— Oh.” Jungkooks fists tighten on his sheets when your head moves sideways, letting the tip of your tongue glide back and forth on his opening.

It sounds like his voice is barely able to make a sound, choking the last minute before he relishes into a pleased hum. He’s so loud, fuck your mind can barely stay focused on pleasing him when he sounds like this.

The noise is indescribable, floating all over the room as you continue even though your neck is starting to cramp. You’re going to keep doing this until he finishes all over himself.

“Feel good bub?” You question, your hand traveling upwards to tug at his balls and rub down on his perineum.

“Y-yeah, fuck, so good. So—“ He chokes up the last sound, sounding like he’s lost his breath for a second and your core begins to ache, needing something before you’ll end up losing your mind too.

You ignore it for now, remaining your mouth on Jungkook, shifting between circling your tongue to flattening it out. If only you could reach lower, you’d be able to maybe even enter your tongue inside of him.

“Bub?” You stop what you’re doing, catching Jungkook out of trance as he pants, still trying to realize what exactly is happening.

“Could you pass me a pillow?” Jungkook only hums, throat probably starting to dry out from his choked out moans that are able to strain his veins in his neck fully, as everything just slips. You’re imaging what he’d look like, brows furrowed, eyes closed, mouth gape and head leaned back on his pillow.

Jungkook cuts off your imagination when he scoots upwards, handing you the pillow.

“Thank you. Lift your butt.” His eyebrows shoot upwards at your question, but he’s too dazed to question it, so he obeys, lifting his hips carefully so you can place the pillow beneath him.

“That’s good baby. Thank you.” You kiss his inner thigh, catching onto the blush on the tip of Jungkook’s ears before he disappears behind his pillow again.

The angle is much better for your neck, feeling it strain less as you return to Jungkook’s hole, who’s now glistening in your spit. You’re aching to touch, but you stop yourself, knowing this is already way out of Jungkook’s comfort zone to have your mouth on there.

Jungkook hums at the first touch, his hand roaming down to his cock who’s desperate for his touch, so he complies, tugging down on the semi wet skin after your mouth has been doing wonders on it.

The pleasure only increases when he feels your touch circling around while he strokes his cock in languid motions. Shit, he might not last long.

Somehow with Jungkook touching himself it’s made him less tense. You noticed it the first time your mouth finally explored his rim, it was extremely tight. Now, it opens up a bit and finally you get to do what you’ve been waiting for, fucking him with your tongue.

You suck on the outside, collecting the courage before you slip it in, just the tip.

“H-holy fuck…” Jungkook chokes out breathlessly, too overwhelmed to form an incoherent sentence.

You let it stay, lips closing down on the outside of his hole. Until you feel the first movement, Jungkook shamelessly grinds down on your tongue.

You hadn’t expected it. You really truly thought it would be you controlling it, yet here he is, grinding down on your face, showcasing how desperate he is for more of it. So, simply you give in, your head moving with his movements, working him up as much as you can.

“I don’t—“ Jungkook tries to speak despite his mind being too gone at the moment. “I’m not going to last long— shit.”

He’s truly felt this before, the sensation of something so warm and wet that’s not his cock, but he doesn’t regret it. No, frankly he thinks he might’ve become a tad bit obsessed with this sensation that it highly won’t be the last time he’ll subtly ask for it.

Fuck, how are you so good with that mouth of yours? Jungkook truly wonders.

The speed you use turns quicker, messier, your nose and chin now covered in spit as you rub every part you can on him.

“Yes— baby m’ so close.” Jungkook strokes faster, the slick sounds from his cock joining the slurping sounds you’re making. Hearing Jungkook be so wet, makes you moan against his hole, sending vibrations into him and that’s the last straw for Jungkook before he comes undone on his pillow and lower stomach.

His thighs are still trembling from his orgasm, so you caress him softly, before pushing away and meeting him eye to eye.

You never should’ve, because Jungkook looks so fucked out. The headband hangs loosely, his long hair curling on the pillow case. The front of it is covered in sweat, along with his forehead and neck. His pupils are blown out, as if he’s high on something. He just looks extremely pretty like this. You never saw the day coming when you’d find Jungkook anything but hot, but yeah no, he’s fucking gorgeous.

“I think I might’ve passed out for a second.” He admits, making you laugh as you grab onto the pillow his arms are hugging loosely, removing it to see his cum covered abs.

“So it was good?” You tease, already knowing the answer but your pride wants to hear it.

“Good? Y/N, it was fucking incredible.”

“Maybe it’ll let you open up to the possibility for my fingers next time?” You’re hopeful, wanting to do more than just eat him out. You want to touch him places he never has, making him finish untouched.

“Absolutely not. Nice try though.” You pout at the response and Jungkook laughs before giving you a gentle kiss.

“Now, can I eat you out?” He’s still slightly panting yet he still wants to please you. Holy fuck who even is he?

“You don’t have t—“

“I want to. Need to.” He moves forward, kissing you once more, slower this time. You follow his tempo, tilting your head when he does.

Jungkook doesn’t warn you when he flips you both over, so he’s now hovering above you. It’s not that you don’t love Jungkook going down on you — you live for it, but you’re exhausted. Jungkook can probably tell by the droopy eyes he’s met with.

“I’ll be quick.” You nod, wanting to desperately come.

Jungkook keeps his promise, going straight down to your cunt. He’s surprised when he sees the dark patch on your thong when he’s about to touch you.

“Did that really make you this wet baby?” Jungkook’s curious.

“Yeah, you sound so pretty.” You’re blaming the fatigue for spilling such a personal detail.

Jungkook’s mouth drops when your words sink in, not responding to them but putting his mouth to good use instead.

He moves your thong to the side, his tongue now running in between your folds. You forgot how good it felt to have his mouth on you. Jungkook has always been a fucking expert when it comes to where he should touch you.

With a few sucks to your clit, you’re already shaking, warning him you’re about to come. Jungkook continues, humming against your core as he rubs his face as deep as he can.

“F-fuck Jungkook!” You moan loudly, coming undone all over his tongue. He really wasn’t kidding, that was indeed quick. Maybe the fastest orgasm you’ve had.

“Good?” You hum, dropping down your legs who are shaking after your bliss.

Jungkook settles back next to you, breathing heavily himself.

Neither of you say anything, just staring at the ceiling in silence.

“I should probably go.” Yet you’re too tired to move.

“Yeah… or you could stay?”

Yes, you’ve been with Jungkook for a while but never have you slept at his place. Whenever the act was done, you were back on your feet, grabbing your clothes and leaving to go back home.

Now, he’s suggesting you stay which surprises you, because you’re actually considering saying yes. You’re too tired to move, heavy eyelids making it hard to protest against his idea.

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook sighs, scooting closer to you so his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

When it clicks for you that you’re cuddling, the only thing you can think is:

We’re so fucked.

perma taglist;

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taglist for this fic;

@jungkooksseuphoria @bloopkook @yopjm @vminsvixen @wnderkoo @i-dont-give-a-fok @mageprincess7

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#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fic #bts fan fiction #bts fan fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook

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afreakingdork · 1 month

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 60

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

This week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake lights up the night

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

STOP! BEFORE YOU READ:

If you can stomach excessive violence, please remember that this chapter technically falls chronologically after the Sore Spot one-shot. However, it is not required reading and you will not miss out if you could not read it for whatever reason.

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: Hospital, egregious injury, coma, intubation, needles, IV, coma, drugs, bleeding, broke bones, medical descriptions, medical tests, guns, gunshots, ect

“You’re late.”

“Sir.”

“47 minutes this time.”

Heavy sigh.

“27 the last and an hour and a half prior to that. You have two assigned patients total, one of which is no longer in critical condition and yet, here you are, late for the last round of your shift.”

“If you think-!”

“133 Pitt St, Apartment 3B, New York, NY 10002.”

Sharp inhale.

“Contain your personal life. You shouldn’t have moved in with your boyfriend so fast. Of course, he’s cheating on you. If your sloppy time management skills are any indication, you were never meant to be a suitable partner.”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!!! I’M THROWING YOU OUT! I DON’T CARE THAT-!”

“Again!?”

“NO! NO MORE! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! I REFUSE TO-!”

“Please, ma’am! I’m begging you! I know! I know what he’s like and he’s a million percent at fault, but if you could-!”

“He just said my home address.”

“Eugh boy…”

“He’s cruel. He’s mean! He never stops! He’s-”

“Ma’am…”

“No! Don’t you ma’am me again! Do you know how many nurses have refused to serve this room! You are down to less than a handful and mark that down as one less because there’s no way in hell I’m coming back here. I’m filing a fucking police report. I’ve had enough of this shit. He threatens us. He lies. He antagonizes. He hovers! He’s a stalker! He’s a bastard! He should have been kicked out the moment he pulled that stunt in intake! I bet he was the one who did this to-!”

Slam.

“H-He-!”

“Donatello!”

Slam.

“Get out of my way, Leonardo.”

“Do you want to be cut off!? That’s what you’re fucking doing! We’ve been busting our fucking butts to keep you in here, but that’s enough!! Don’t you get it?! Do you want to be here when Y/N wakes up or do you want to be miserable and alone!?”

Snivel.

“She… insinuated… that I…”

“I know.”

Rustle.

“I know.”

“I didn’t…”

“I know…”

Sigh.

“I’m taking charge.”

Sharp inhale.

“That’s the only way this is going to work. You threatened her, idiot. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”

Hmph.

“Ma’am…”

“You think I was gonna be moved by that?”

“Look, I get it. This is… There isn’t a way to explain this. All I can promise you is that if you can… find it in your heart to let this incident slide, there won’t be another.”

…

“I’m taking full blame, full responsibility. If he acts out of turn again, he’s banned. I’ll make sure of it.”

…

“Please.”

Heavy sigh.

Clink.

“You saved… my sister two years ago from a monster… er-“

“Monster. I’m not sure it was a mutant.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s… I’m only doing this because of that. Not for him. Fuck him. Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Fuck you.”

…

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Squeak.

“And one cup of absolutely burnt coffee for the-!”

…

“I knew it!!!”

Clatter.

“Donatello!”

“Don’t.”

“I knew you were hiding something, but this-!”

“Get back.”

“What did you inject yourself with!?”

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does! You think you can-!?”

“Don’t you dare touch me.”

“I didn’t mean-!”

“You know why, now leave it.”

Bang.

“I heard yelling! What’s going on? Donatello!”

“It’s alright, Lee.”

“Don’t you pull that shit! What happened!?”

“It’s fine.”

“Knock it off! No, it’s not! You’re going to let him talk to you like that?! What was that?! I was gone for five seconds!”

“Leo.”

“Don’t ‘Leo’ me, Mikey! Everything that happens is on me. Don’t you get that? You need to tell me what just happened!”

…

“Well!?”

“I got too friendly, Leo. Nothing else. I swear it.”

…

“Damnit…”

“It’s been 2 weeks.”

…

“Donatello.”

…

“Say something.”

“I keep time. Down to the second.”

“Then you’ll know that you haven’t slept. Not once.”

…

“Donatello.”

“I fatigue of hearing my name come from your mouths.”

Heavy sigh.

Creak.

Squeak.

Wane.

“I… I know what this is like.”

…

“I know you know why I know.”

…

“It’s not going to get easier.”

…

“I know you don’t want to hear this.”

“You presume too much.”

“Donatello!”

“What? Why do you insist on pleading your case? Why do any of you? You think of yourselves so highly. You are wretches. You are sheep parading yourselves as saviors. You flock if only because you are too feeble to attempt anything alone! You think I need you? I never have! I never will! You have hitched yourselves to a technicality at best! That I let you live and occupy the same vicinity as Y/N is happenstance at best! Yet you press! You always press. Always. You never stop! You never have!!! You will plague me for my lifetime and I will never be rid of you so, please, pray tell, Raphael, what wisdom on this dimension or any other could you possibly think to disturb me with this time!?!”

…

“Ya done?”

“I should have-!”

Scrape.

Crash.

…

“You need to eat and drink. Actual food. Actual water. Y/N will need you when they wake up. All I was gonna say. I’m taking my turn outside. Try considering that we might care about something other than you once in a while.”

Step.

Click

Fuzz.

Someone left an ancient video set on.

It was plugged in for the sake of it.

Or it was being checked.

To see if it was still operational.

Something was beeping.

Not overly loud, but enough that it made a thrum in the room.

It smelled clinical.

Dry, but with a must of synthetic polish, it spoke of industrially cleaned linens and hospital corridors.

There was an actual hum.

The kind that came from fluorescents when they painted everyone a sickly hue.

Something was in your mouth.

A twitch found a tube in your nose.

You were cold.

Every breath came with an ache and numbness.

It all channeled down your throat.

You were layered up with blankets.

Three parts of you were free as far as you could tell.

Your left arm.

Stiff, folded, and holding emphasis.

Your head.

Lying on a papery substance concealing more than one pillow.

Your right hand.

Only emerged enough for something stuck to the back of it and large digits cupped between your loose fingers.

Two digits.

Two long, thick fingers.

You squeezed with as much force as you could manage.

You heard a little grunt.

You shifted to dig your nails.

“Woah there.”

Not Donnie.

That wasn’t Donnie.

It wasn’t Donnie.

You made a weary noise and tossed lightly against your pillow in dismay.

The thing in your mouth shifted.

You choked.

“Shh. You’re okay. Breathing tube. I know, I know. I also know I’m not the one you want, but I can get him. Can you hang tight for me, kay?”

The fingers returned the hold.

Eyes.

You wanted your vision.

You cracked a lid and winced it back shut at the light.

“You’re in the hospital. I’ve got you.” Another hand came to touch your leg in a neutral, but reassuring way. “You with me?”

Knowing there was too much white, you opened your eyes slower this time and glimpsed Leo leaning over you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You croaked.

“That’s all the confirmation I need.” He gave your hand a final squeeze before walking to the end of your bed. “Any more false starts and he’d lose it. The roving eye thing has been a nightmare.”

Gaze adjusting by the second, you watched him slice open a portal and Donnie clamber through with a rush of sound. “You had seven more minutes before you were meant toI-! Does that mean-!?”

Leo stepped out of the way and held out an arm.

Donnie rounded his head and was at your side before you could blink.

Function was difficult.

He cradled your hand close and you saw the wire attached to it.

Tracing it drearily, you found several bags sitting above you dripping liquid directly into your veins.

Coming back down, Donnie had tears in his eyes and a watercolor smile on his lips. “Y/N.”

You creaked, rusty on your intubation.

“Yes! We’ll get that right out if possible! Of course!” He brought his beak down and kissed the tips of your fingers. “Procedure says you should first explain whereabouts as a patient may be confused.” Donnie gave a sharp nod. “Y/N. There has been a travesty. We were in the Hidden City when we were ambushed. We-I-No-We were drugged… and you… you were…” Tears threatened to fall and he choked with a swollen throat.

You squinted at him.

None of that made sense.

You didn’t remember anything like that.

You remembered.

You remembered a beach.

You remembered a love potion.

You remembered rolling in the sheets with your mate.

You remembered.

You made a fearful noise and pulled at your body.

None of it came as it should.

Your arm wasn’t just folded, it was taped down to your chest.

In fact, most of your body was constricted.

The pull clanged along muscle groups and you felt a pulse trained inwards on your abdomen.

Shooting sparks of pain straight into your gut, you gave a soft pained cry and tried to kick.

Only one leg responded.

The other was lead and weighed down.

You were choking.

“Y/N, w-wait! P-please!” Donnie refused to touch any more of you.

“Donatello.” Leo appeared just behind him.

“Don’t. It won’t. Not now.” Donnie went to snap at the blue turtle.

Leo stared back, stoic.

“Don’t…” Donnie managed, gaze falling.

“Y/N.” Leo took to the other side of the bed and reached in to adjust a strap of bandage on your shoulder. “Listen. You’re at the Mount Sinai on Madison. You were in emergency, then the ICU, then you got assigned a room. Saying you were banged up is an understatement. You almost died. You might have, if we hadn’t…”

Relegating to pupil movement, you first stared at Leo, then checked with Donnie.

Your boyfriend gave a sharp nod where he’d taken Leo’s seat at your side and your hand.

You rasped.

“They had to medically induce a coma so we could figure out what substance you were injected with. You were considered an overdose patient until then. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cracked it and passed the info along so they could treat you. Then you… didn’t wake up. They considered it a regular coma after that. You were stabbed in your shoulder, miracle it missed any of the three arteries there. You’ll have a hell of a time with physical therapy for the muscle though. Your left femur is broken, but that… We’ll get into that later. You were cut along the ribs and stabbed in the right upper torso, into the liver. You were in surgery for hours. Internal bleeding… concussion… broken bones, you name it.”

You made a flighty grunt.

Donnie squeezed you.

You sent him a weak flick of your eye.

Leo sighed softly. “Button time?”

“I hit it a moment ago.” Donnie answered, not looking away from you.

Leo nodded and put his hands on his hips. “Ready, Y/N?”

Leo.

Donnie.

Together in the same room.

It only occurred to you now that there was an issue with that.

There was so much happening.

All of it was wrong.

You shifted your pupil between the two and translated what you hoped was a question.

“I’m assuming you’re wondering about this?” Leo pointed between him and Donnie. “Another explanation for later because you’re going to want to sleep after what’s about to happen… I sure as hell did.”

He walked to a corner and you wanted to know what he meant, but a nurse walked in. “Oh…! How are you feeling!?”

What followed was torturous. Over and over your sanity was questioned and examined as they checked your faculties. Tests were done in abundance and you were poked and prodded by what you assumed was every metal device known to man. A legion of doctors, nurses, and contracted medical personnel filed through to tell you similar and yet all new information about your wounds. Tubes were inserted, removed, and shifted around in what you could only imagine was a cruel cosmic game of hokey pokey. You picked up little details where you could under the barrage. There had been something about mysticism, both bad and good. You’d healed nicely. You had more healing to do.

It had been three total weeks since the attack.

You held onto that lost time with an iron claw until you were forced upright. Both for physical examination and because a wheelchair arrived for some test that couldn’t be done in this room, you saw Donnie keep a wounded strength up and Leo keep his distance. Both men had been similarly cycled, in and out of your vicinity, for the sake of decorum. You alternatively had none as you were carted around for more scans where doctors both talked to and around you. By the time you were uncomfortably back in bed and finally left alone, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Sleep.” Donnie kissed your temple.

“Donnie…” You fought your lids.

You hadn’t gotten to talk to him at all.

His name was probably the first thing you’d said to him.

You wanted to say so much more.

How could you be tired?

You’d been asleep for nearly a month.

Donnie hushed your mind and a glimpse of him was the last thing you saw.

You woke up sometime in the night to a nurse fiddling with your IV.

“I have to get used to seeing you.” She teased lightly, checking the cord and coming away with a syringe.

You grunted out a sound.

“Don’t mind me.” She told you before giving your good leg a pat and disappearing around the bed. “Just something to ease the pain.”

You stared after her shape and caught a dull hue of Leo on the far side of the room.

Squinting, you found him watching after the nurse before he turned with a tired expression.

Following his gaze led to Donnie who was waiting with a patient expression.

“Hey.” You told him still groggy.

“Hi…” He pet your arm. “No need to get up.”

“No… I… I’m… can I…?” You stirred, trying to remember if sitting up was a chore.

“What do you need? Feel free to sign an approximate.” Donnie watched on with tepid affection.

In the corner of your eye you saw Leo turn his head in a way to give you privacy. You eyed him openly before returning to Donnie. Your first real look at him, you saw how the last few weeks had taken their toll. An odd midpoint in comparison to your last separation where he’d headed to the Hidden City alone, he looked a little on the mend. Eyes sallow, but skin perked with some vestige of hydration, he mostly looked exhausted.

“Water…” You decided, your throat dry and still cracked from the tube.

“You might have trouble swallowing, go slow.” He retrieved a pitcher and cup from a side table before filling it carefully to offer it with a straw.

Knowing he would hold it, you wrangled the lead with your lips and sucked in the life giving liquid.

He lowered it when you’d had enough.

“Sore…” You mumbled, leaning back and feeling the cool drink travel downward in your body.

Donnie nodded.

You took your time reaching up to cup his cheek with a spin of your wrist to coax him in. “Not clean. Sorry.”

“I’ve done my best.” Donnie whispered, coming in only enough to barely rest his forehead against the side of your head.

“Why-?” A cough caught you and each wheeze thudded through your wounds.

Donnie disappeared to monitor you closely.

Hand falling away, you winced against the aggravating loose, but tight nature of your esophagus.

You heaved a sigh as you caught your breath with the ragged little pinpricks that still held on.

Taking additional time to simply breathe, you eventually calmed enough to look out at Leo. “Explain this.”

Leo perked up in the moonlight seeping through a window and approached.

“Now?” Donnie asked without pressure.

You gave a single nod.

“Consider it a bedtime story.” Leo refused an actual smile, but there was a jovial edge to his tone as he came around to the opposite side of the bed. “We make it boring enough and we can put Y/N right to sleep.”

Donnie barely rolled his eyes.

“What got you here or this situation?” Leo asked with minor disdain, ignoring Donnie while also referencing him.

“Both… from the… beginning?”

Leo gave a knowing nod. “When I got the call, you were…”

Donnie bristled and had to hold himself.

“Bad.” Leo decided with a tight eye over your boyfriend. “It was bad.”

Donnie closed his eyes.

You reached for him.

He caught your hand and held it delicately to save the IV.

“We were together so we moved together.” Leo went on.

“Toget…?” You struggled on the syllables.

“Me, Mikey, and Raph.” Leo confirmed.

You bobbed slightly.

“Skipping over our entrance onto the scene, Mikey sort of…” Leo juggled his phrasing.

Donnie was up and away from you.

You stared after him and noticed he’d taken the time to set your hand down before fleeing.

“Mike’s got all sorts of mystic mojo.” Leo tried anew. “I knew you were going straight to surgery and Mikey sort of… snuck into prep.”

“Wha…?” Your lips parted dry and you wished Donnie would come back with the water.

“I wasn’t there, to be clear, I’m going off what Mike told me, but basically he zapped you with magic before the staff caught him.”

“I don’t…” You wanted to shake your head, but you settled for a failed swallow.

“In addition to flying, Mikey can kinda sort of teleport like me, but it’s different… he can…” Leo struggled.

“Leonardo trained with an artifact to hone tears through space. Michangelo can rip through space and time with his bare hands.” Donnie spoke, his back half turned to you. “To his detriment. You’ve seen his scarring.”

Leo seemed unperturbed by this knowledge. “He’s banned from it, but I can’t control him in an emergency or last resort sort of thing. It’s… a whole thing, but he can manage very short distances without it… without…”

“Leo…” You murmured, sensing there was something painful there.

Leo took your acknowledgement as a cue he could skip over details. “He took one look at a hospital map, teleported into the OR, dumped as much mystic healing into you as he could, teleported out when he was found, and then promptly passed out for an entire week.”

You heard Donnie inhale to speak and both you and Leo waited for him to, but he didn’t.

Something was off here.

You felt like you hadn’t woken up.

Pangs said otherwise, but you still wanted to pinch yourself.

Leo and Donnie were being as civil as you’d ever seen them and only a few weeks didn’t seem like enough time for that.

Something else was happening, but you were struggling to keep up as it was.

“What… did he…?” You hoped that was enough.

Leo lightly touched a blanket crease on the edge of your bed. “He mostly reassembled bone fragments. From what I understand, flesh, with all its blood vessels and such is a harder patch, but he did get some in. Mostly that gash along your ribs. Overall, it’s more of a general spell. If it had been me-” Leo’s teeth caught the light.

“You…?”

“Medic training.” Leo held the first bitter edge you’d seen to him. “I’m a trained medic.”

Donnie rotated further away.

Why were you losing him?

“Mikey took you from a femoral break to a fracture.” Leo kept a sharp gaze. “Your bone was shattered.”

“Oh…” You gazed down at your body.

“T-tricky with the casting.” Leo stepped up to point and shift the topic. “It’s called a spica. A groovy kind of asymmetrical bottoms, half shorts, half pants, which you have, but they should have cast it up your whole torso, only they couldn’t because of the… stab wounds…” He drifted, his acrid edge returning.

“What’s… going… on?” You got out, the many odd signs too much for you.

“I’m sure you don’t want some medical textbook info on the arteries… But I think I can simplify it-”

“Leo.” You pressed down on his name.

Donnie was nearly curled into the wall.

“Donnie.”

Your partner's head barely rotated at the sound of your voice.

“What… happened?” You wheezed.

You’d asked Leo to start from the top.

Instead, he’d skipped around.

Now there was an ever changing air as if something enormous was being avoided.

You had to know. “Tell me.”

Leo tugged your sheet until it was smooth. “Intake.”

The word oppressive, you felt the other two suffer under it where it held no connotation to you. “What… about it?”

“You still don’t remember what happened during the attack?” Leo asked, edging closer to you with an odd timber.

You shook your head slowly.

“A… Hidden City police officer… abducted you both.” Leo began, a clear wary of Donnie even though he didn’t look. “The guy disobeyed the temporary pardon. We know next to nothing about his goal.”

Your hand flexed and you felt the bite of your IV needle.

“Without you, there’s no account of what happened. The perp left no evidence of planning or anything so we have to assume it was spontaneous, but… we don’t know. We won’t know. Donatello regained consciousness right before the guy tried to…”

Your gaze flew to Donnie where he’d wedged in a corner.

He didn’t know what happened?

No one did.

Was he guilty?

You wished you could go to him.

Leo gave a shaky exhale. “I can only say what I saw for sure.”

You were slow to trek back to Leo.

“Donatello called me and… asked-”

“Begged.” Donnie spoke venom. “Say it.”

Leo’s eyes flashed a warning that Donnie didn’t catch. “I guess he… beggedfor my help. I portaled over and saw you… you were… you…”

Soothe them.

You wanted to hold Donnie.

You wanted to pat Leo.

If your arm closest to him wasn’t bandaged down you might have managed the latter.

Leo seemed to notice your intention and gave a tired smile of his own.

This was the closest he’d been to you yet.

His eyes looked like Donnie’s.

“I scooped you up with the others trailing behind and portaled us straight to triage.” Leo cut through the silence. “I had to leave you bleeding out on the nurse’s station because…”

“Y/N.” Donnie spoke around shattered glass.

“You won’t tell it.” Leo ground out just shy of a bark.

“I should…” Donnie tried to turn, but there was an odd glint to his eye.

“Donatello…” Leo had that warning to him again.

“I can talk about it!” Donnie’s voice held a rising bile. “I am not some child!”

“Donatello!” Leo took a few steps over.

“I lost control!” Donnie turned to plead his case with you.

Trapped in your bed, you felt strapped down.

You couldn’t help.

You were helpless.

“I didn’t see the yokai, you know.” Donnie crept forward slowly. “Your-our-your attacker.”

He looked a vision similar to a sleep paralysis demon.

Your heart clutched and it reflected in the ever constant beep of the heart monitor.

Leo neared the edge of the bed, his body readying.

Donnie saw nor heard neither. “I saw a knife. I saw you. I saw you speak your last words to me. Then I saw purple.”

Leo’s arms went up.

“They were trying…. They tried… They-!!!” In a single blink, Donnie’s eyes lit up a bright fuchsia. “They weren’t going to touch you.”

“Stop!” Leo’s eyes spun a blue similar to his portals.

Dancing lights filled the room.

For every flash of purple there was an equal blue swallowing it up.

It cast horrifying shadows across Donnie’s face. “I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop the bleeding. I couldn’t-!”

Leo caught Donnie’s shoulders in a swift move.

You flinched away as the dueling lights picked up to a blinding luminance.

There was a sharp choke.

You forced your lids up to see the glow gone and Leo’s leg lifted where he’d kneed Donnie straight through his plastron and into his stomach.

Donnie hunched with drool dripping from his mouth and had just caught himself from vomiting at the force.

Leo let go just as fast and held up innocent hands as he backed away. “Well? How’d that work out for you?!”

Donnie winced, clutching himself for a moment before he raised his own hand as a signal.

“What… was that…?” You looked at them both, feeling a ghost amongst them.

“Donatello unlocked his ninpo.” Leo turned to you looking haggard.

Now a moment away from tears, Donnie scrambled to his side of your bed on his knees. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t-!”

Your hand immediately went to his cheek and though your body raged and you were only allowed a few inches, you turned toward him as much as you could.

“Don’t do that…” He scolded and your action alone was enough to ground him minutely.

You shushed him with affection and pet down his jaw.

It took two strokes before he went a calculated limp against you.

“Has this…?” You swallowed hard and the cup appeared in front of you.

Hating how much maintenance you needed, you took a quick sip before shaking your head to force the swallow down.

“This has been… happening the whole time… since I got…?”

“Put in the hospital.” Leo nodded and staggered a few steps before he caught the bottom of your bed.

“What… power? Why… now?”

Leo rubbed an eye and mocked. “What power?” He clicked his tongue. “We… as in my family, believed it was only possible for clan members. You unlock your ninpo through acceptance. You have to have faith or trust or believe in the Hamato clan, in us, in family, and poof! It’s the only way you should be able to…” A form of irritation brought Leo upright. “Mikey and I unlocked ours to save Raph. It should be for family. Our family. That fierce protection. That-”

“He unlocked it…” You looked at Donnie.

He was curled into your palm with his eyes screwed shut, looking especially young.

“…saving me?”

Leo clicked his tongue.

Donnie gave a nod that was more of a nuzzle.

“It was wrong.” Leo spoke sharply.

A purple gun appeared in his face long enough for you to watch it cock before Leo realized and a tiny blue portal swallowed it up.

“Enough already! We just did that! You already flipped out so chill!” Leo growled, his eyes still entrenched in a glow.

“Don’t you tell me that saving them was a mistake in any way.” Donnie pulled from you to bare his fangs.

Several cycles of purple and blue cascaded a waterfall around Leo’s features. It painted him haunted before his face broke into true dismay. “I would never.”

The flickering stopped and you didn’t dare look at Donnie.

“How you activated it…” Leo shook his head trying to bury the raw emotion. “Your faith is misplaced. You get granted Hamato rights because you’re a Hamato. Because you believe in one another and how we’re stronger together… You are supposed to believe that you are a part of something larger and that they have you, everything about you. Every single bit. They will do anything for you! You don’t…! You don’t believe any of that!” His eyes rose with tears caught by the pale lights in the room. “That’s why you’re wrong. You tore into a power you shouldn’t have. That’s why you don’t have control. It will never be okay. It will never be yours! It shouldn’t.”

Donnie finally turned inward toward you and there were broken flickers of purple in his gaze like a match trying to light.

You had very little movement, but used what you could to grab his mask and tug.

He came limp and loose into your good shoulder and wilted there, shutting off the light.

Leo grunted about his weakness and did a small pace to recompose himself.

“Leo…” You murmured, petting Donnie with a heavy weight that he accepted.

“Yeah…?” He rounded the edge of the bed.

“That was… What Donnie made was…?”

“Weaponry.” Leo spat. “His power manifested in the same shit he started with. Destruction as always.”

There was a humming vibration of a phone.

Donnie flinched into you.

Leo pulled his device out.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered to Donnie, knowing you couldn’t go low enough to not reach Leo’s tympanum.

“The others…” Donnie rooted closer to you. “… they’ll come now.”

“Why?” You wished you could hold him.

“The flare of ninpo.” Leo answered, tacking something out. “They’re worried. I’ll tell ‘em it’s okay for now. You… I’ll give you this.”

Donnie couldn’t thank him, but he chuffed a sound of acknowledgement.

That seemed enough for Leo.

You felt a depth of what they’d been through without you.

It was huge and weighty and both of them were overtaxed by it.

All because of you.

“Raph said you each had… specialties or something…” You murmured.

Leo stared dully at the blue light from his phone illuminating his face. “Donatello has built guns a million times over. Now he can assemble them without anything, but his mind. Makes sense. A stupid fucked up sense.”

You read the faintest emotion of him.

Fear.

“Leo-”

“I don’t agree, but Mikey has a different theory.” Leo pocketed his phone and his angle entrenched him in darkness. “He doesn’t see a problem with the unlocking because it was done to protect. He thinks the malfunction is tied to Donatello holding back. Something about him not being able to embrace the power because he’s forcing it away like everything else.”

Donnie exhaled revulsion.

“Agreed.” Leo puffed his own.

He did hold back.

You stroked down, tracing towards his concealed mating mark.

Did Donnie disagree because Mikey was on the right track?

He’d come a long way, but he still believed that the person he was with you wasn’t the authentic one.

He’d also said he could never live as himself.

That meant he’d never harness this power.

It loomed overhead, something even more dangerous than his enemies.

“It does… seem connected to your anger.”

You felt both men look at you, but you only watched Donnie.

“From… the little I’ve seen…” You tried to sound sheepish.

Donnie leaned in to rest his beak against your cheek. “You’re correct.”

Leo broke away and walked toward the window.

“And you two have just been…?” You glanced between them. “Together… this whole time?”

The palpable disdain swept through the room.

For a long moment neither spoke.

Donnie seemed the more sturdy of the two for now, sighed to retreat lightly, and adjusted your covers. “Not at first.”

Leo scrubbed his face.

“The initial chain of events went as such: I was…” The moment weighed on Donnie and took his voice.

“Not again…” Leo turned, looking twice as exhausted.

“I can do it.” Donnie pressed, harsh. “Look away.”

Leo bristled with obvious concern.

All you could think was how strange it was.

In such a short amount of time they’d seemingly come so far.

The Leo you knew would have taken every opportunity to barb Donnie.

Your Donnie would never allow the amount of supposed weakness he was currently displaying.

“I can.” Donnie tried again, his voice more even.

Leo said nothing and turned to tuck his head against the wall.

Donnie was slow in taking your face.

A familiar cascade of affection, it coaxed a smile from you and he nosed you lightly before drinking you into a kiss.

“My breath…” You murmured against the chaste press.

“Brushed earlier once the tube was removed and you were up to it.” Donnie caught your lips again and you realized the light brushes were to keep any errant smacks at bay.

“I’ve slept…” You teased him with the lightest nosing though the reach with your neck disturbed the muscles in your shoulder.

“You will learn to lie still.” He spoke with light heat and stole what was an obvious final kiss with a heavier press.

You relented into the pillow and failed to catch a soft sigh.

“That day… After disposing of that miscreant, I was beside myself. You needed more immediate attention then I could possibly… I found your phone. I called… When Leo appeared… I… I passed you off. My inadequacies were…”

“Too much…” You found his hand near yours and squeezed it.

He nodded and nuzzled close. “I let him take you, not more than a step behind, but Michelangelo…”

You tilted your head the slightest amount.

“You were deemed an obvious emergency and taken immediately. That I stood for, but Michelangelo he only…” Donnie paused and took a deep settling breath. “He had been nearby, suddenly saying he could help. Then he disappeared. I… It was an unknown variable. Him alone with you. With his mysticism… I… He hurt you before…”

You studied his eyes closely.

He leaned in to give you a better view, illustrating his gaze was free from purple, before nudging you with his beak. “I was irate to say the least. The staff would not let me warn them. Everyone kept telling me to calm down and then…” He caught himself and with several false starts to give a heady exhale. “Raphael subdued me after I manifested an entire arsenal and nearly leveled the waiting room.”

Leo shook his head against the wall, but you read it less as a disagreement and more of distress at the memory.

“His projections aren’t sturdy enough to dispel mine however. He temporarily knocked me out as the drug was still in my system.” Donnie continued. “When I woke, moments later, I was propped in the waiting room, informed Michelangelo had been returned to the sewer, Raphael was having a few superficial bullet wounds treated, and Leonardo was sat beside me.”

Leo flittered with a faint movement that you found to be his fist nervously tapping near his hip.

“For a while…” Donnie wrangled himself in and pulled away minutely to check your IV. “We sat as such for several hours until Leonardo spoke in regards to our predicament. A repeat of my display would put you at risk. The blue bast-ahem-Leonardo was meant to only be utilized as emergency transport. It was a temporary necessity. However… I was forced to acknowledge there was now more at play.”

Leo’s head tipped up and he looked toward a darkened ceiling corner.

“The staff had no choice but to accept my staying by your side once I was able.” Donnie had a faint smirk to him. “In situations such as those, I am unbothered. What power do they have? Police?” His teeth gleamed around a laugh, but he subdued it. “It was… your ongoing treatment that proved difficult. Not up to my standards. We’d failed to get S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. inside. You required the facilities and providers available here, but…”

Your lips parted and Donnie offered more water for you to sip.

“My threats along with my volatile ninpo made a dangerous combination. Not that they could have kept me away, but I was threatened with several premise bans.”

He let the cup sit comfortably against your side.

“You see, upon our arrival here, each of us displayed our powers meaning the uninitiated were confused. Sure, there is an irritatingly obvious color coding, but what was less evident was the effects. Raphael had smothered my attack so only sick, delusional waiting room patients saw a hallucination at best. No one of importance saw what my ninpo created. This was for the best, but to keep it that way, as the lethality of my manifestations happens to be off putting to some-'' Donnie flicked a quick glance toward Leo in gesture. “-I had to be monitored…” His lip curled. “The others sat with me in rotation. I was unfortunately in need of their attendance in case my ninpo activated. The three traded off, but Leonardo’s ninpo is most suited to safely disarming mine.”

Donnie came close enough that you could lean on him.

“Waiting at your side gave me only time. Slowly, I achieved enough emotional control so as not to create weapons at the slightest provocation, but I am still me. I acted my usual and voiced my overall displeasure with your ongoing unconscious state. These… comments were not appreciated and compounded as I had worn my welcome. On supposed ‘thin ice,’ there was a particular incident where I slipped and allowed a nurse to see one of my manifestations. Thus a final deal was struck.”

Leo felt comfortable enough to turn and watch with a worn expression.

“Leonardo…” Donnie took on a strange expression that bordered appreciation. “… stepped in. He used his connections, status, and manipulation to garner you a better care rotation. In exchange, he was charged with being my full time handler. I was to defer to him in exchange and he put his entire public reputation on the line if only to keep me from actually being kicked out. If only… to allow us...” Donnie carefully cradled your hand. “... to stay together.”

You were overwhelmed.

Suddenly awash, your chest tightened lethally and you sent water works in Leo’s direction.

The blue turtle startled at the emotion and gave a single sharp nod as if it was a normal duty as any other.

“Shh, don’t waste your limited energy on him. Again, not that it would have mattered. Nothing would have kept me from you.” There was a fragility to Donnie’s usual bravado.

You pinched his fingers to translate that you noticed.

He looked away with the faintest noise of frustration.

“That was a week ago.” Donnie murmured.

“Back up some.” You let go of him to point.

Donnie studied you before adjusting his stool with a rolling slide.

It put him more easily in your reach and you tugged his mask up from his beak.

He grunted, annoyed, but allowed it and you revealed the deeper dark bags barely concealed by it.

Trying to betray little, you delicately put Donnie’s mask back in place before gesturing for Leo to come over. “You next.”

Leo walked to his spot on the opposite side where he yanked his mask up, unprompted, for you to see his equally swollen lids with an amused fluttering of his lashes.

“Him-” You threw a thumb back to Donnie as you spoke to Leo. “I expect to not sleep, but you?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I lost sleep over the jackass.” Leo smirked.

Donnie rolled his eyes.

“He’s up, I’m up.” Leo shrugged and used both hands to get his mask right.

“I would never allow myself disarmed around you.” Donnie growled lightly.

“And you see why neither of us have slept.” Leo’s hands fell away and he cracked you a manic expression like it were an ice cold drink.

“Where was…?” The memory seemed so vague. “Donnie was portalled in… when I woke up.”

“Ah.” Leo nodded, thoughtfully, before sending a smarmy look at Donnie. “Now where were you at, hm?”

Donnie bristled.

Leo pulled his expression slightly, but waited with a cocked ridge of his mask.

Donnie let a canine peek as he turned an acidic expression to you. “I have… scheduled meal breaks.”

Leo wiped a hand over the lower half of his face, no doubt covering a smile.

“A bargain to make you eat…?” You looked over Donnie with knowing affection.

For a split second you saw a swipe of guilt flash over your boyfriend’s face before he settled to a neutral expression. “My choice. An accepted one around. The only agreement was travel.”

“My moment of freedom tainted!” Leo held up a dramatic hand. “Basically, the jam jackass will only go to the cafeteria if I portal him there.” Leo shook his head free of his hand to show his disdain. “Mike or Raph take it from there, but still.”

“My retribution and instantaneous returns.” Donnie sent a lowered lidful of affection toward you.

“I’m not a damn taxi.” Leo grumbled.

You took them both in before you exaggerated a pout.

You then sank deep into your pillow though it made your body ache.

Donnie switched to worry and touched your arm anxiously.

“Leo.”

Donnie twitched with faint annoyance over you ignoring him.

You held out your hand to soothe him.

“Hm?” Leo leaned back, folding his arms.

Donnie took your hand and sulked.

“I get your stupid banter comment now.”

For a beat nothing happened.

Then Leo popped a single snicker before he burst out laughing.

You clucked along with him until the bubbles of comedy clung and irritated your liver.

Donnie pressed your arm to urge you to stop.

You tossed him a smile.

Leo came away, wiping his eye. “Oh man, I’ve lost my mind… That was good. What a call back…!”

“I’m mad I didn’t see you two get close.” You pursed your lips.

“We aren’t.”

There was a certain amount of horror passed between them which Donnie dispelled with a puckered focus on his face.

“Knock it off, bozo!” Leo’s lip curled.

“What are you doing…?” You touched Donnie.

“Trying...” Donnie’s eyes narrowed, willing something with all his might. “… to shoot him between the eyes.”

“You can’t do it on purpose yet and hopefully ever.” Leo sneered.

“If you keep that up he will.” You stared at him dully.

“Pfft.” Leo blew a raspberry. “I’ll just do a little abracadabra and poof, it’s disappeared right before your eyes.” He did a flourish with his hands.

“Hypno would be insulted.” You tilted your head away from the poser.

“Hypno’s a hack!” Leo threw up a hand. “I’ve studied the greats!”

“Since when do you-?” You reared your head. “No… I’m… I’m too injured for this.”

Donnie puffed with a single bubble of laughter and then painted a stoic face as if nothing happened.

“We’re literally right here. This room is dead silent.” Leo shook his head.

“Donnie…” You chewed your lip.

Donnie turned his beak up.

“Seven straight days of this.” Leo threw a hand out to Donnie.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!” You tapped your sheet. “I missed it! Donnie, pull up the recordings!”

Donnie’s hackles went up.

Leo put extra shine on a snarky smile.

“You…” You looked between the pair before settling on Leo in awe. “How the hell did you get him to agree to not tape this?”

“You’re on the line. You’re literally the best bargaining chip anyone could ask for!” Leo turned a smile on you that was eerily similar to Donnie’s malevolent one.

They’d spent too much time together.

“Weak spot…” You whispered in spite of yourself.

“Come again?” Leo held up a hand to his tympanum.

“Nothing.” You crooned.

Leo cocked his brow through his mask.

“You have to fill me in on everything.” You demanded from both of them.

Leo opened his mouth with a retort, but a nurse appeared in the doorway with a tapping foot. “Ahem.”

“Maria! If it isn’t the most lovely night nurse this side of Queens!” Leo spun to her in a flourish and seemed to almost manifest sparkles.

She seemed largely unbothered, but you caught the slightest ghosting of pink to her cheeks from the fluorescence in the hall.

“Give ‘em a break. The lovebirds are making up for lost time…” Leo cooed.

She huffed loudly and renewed the fold of her arms. “They and everyone else in the corridor also need sleep.”

“Done.” Donnie spoke.

Leo polished his grin.

She glared openly at Donnie before sending Leo a pointed look. “I’ll check back in fifteen.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Leo gave a little amorous growl and you gagged to Donnie.

His lip wrinkled with a smile that he buried as soon as Leo walked back over.

“Think that’s a pretty good demonstration of how this arrangements been going.” Leo tossed a thumb back to where he’d come from and reverted to what you assumed was his neutral setting.

Donnie stood and fluffed your pillow.

You looked him over affectionately and felt that ever present exhaustion tug at you again.

It was there.

It had been there.

Speaking of it felt like a command and now it threatened to engulf you.

You hated the helpless feeling of it all.

“Just like that.” Leo hummed, cocky.

“Shut up.” You grumbled.

“Finally, someone else can tell him.” Donnie took his seat and assumed what must have been his usual waiting posture.

“Ugh, almost forgot you let him ruin your morality.” Leo made a big show of rolling his eyes.

You had more complaints, but your lids were heavy.

“Get some rest.” Leo blessedly dropped the complaint and took a seat in a far chair.

“We’ll get you home soon.” Donnie took your hand and pressed a careful kiss to it. You made a little sweet sound for him, but your vision of him skewed as you dozed off.

💜NEXT💜

Through every crazy little idea I have, my darling betas are right there with me and I could be more honored to know @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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rosewaterandivy · 5 months

Text

Epilogue | for once in my life

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

W.C: 5.7k

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, yearning, Tuscan summers, a flashback or two, a wedding, and my usual filth™️

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me while I worked on an ending for our two beloved idiots. 🥺 Truthfully, part of me put off writing the epilogue simply because I didn’t want to let Trouble and Steve go— they’re so near and dear to me! But, all good things must come to an end and I hope I’ve given them a fitting one. Thank you all for reading along and sharing your joy with me, it’s been incredible to experience! 💜💜💜

Series masterlist | Series Playlist | trouble will find me (for Trouble, most ardently) | rebel without a clue (for Steve, with love)

The distance was difficult, only mitigated by the positively unreal Tuscan summer. Though the university was in Bologna in the Emilia-Romagna region, since your classes centered on Dante, you along with a few other students, called Florence your home away from home for the summer.

The sun shone bright and hot against the ancient stones of Palazzo Medici Riccardi, and felt good against your back as you lazed in the garden and courtyard on a rare day off from combing through medieval texts in jam-packed libraries and dust motes floating through the air.

Crossing the bustling street you popped into your local gelateria only to be greeted with an exuberant, “Bella!” from Alessandro behind the counter. “Finally you grace us with your presence,” He teases, already scooping out a serving of arancia rossa sorbetto for you into a cup.

“Grazie,” You say with a smile, taking the sorbetto from his outstretched hand. “Had a slow start to the morning is all, Sandro.”

“Certo, I know how it is,” He says with a knowing wink.

To be fair, the slow start to the day was warranted, given the stress-induced dream you had last night. There you were, minding your own business, thinking about Steve and the voice note he’d left you earlier, and the next thing you know, your brain decided a trip down memory lane was warranted.

“But what do I do about the dress?” Your voice is choked, tongue stumbling over the words.

It hangs in your closet, mocking you. A pink dust bag with an elegant calligraphy card that lists your former wedding date and ex-fiancé’s last name. Robin’s fingers graze the zipper on the garment bag, fingers slowly settling along the pull.

“You could try it on?”

She says it as if she wishes she didn’t have to, as if the next time you would put on the wedding dress would be for the alteration appointment which you had already canceled, along with everything else.

Truthfully, the day you found the dress wasn’t at all what you expected it to be. Sure, you’d looked around online and at a few boutiques with Nancy, Robin, your mother, and would-be mother-in-law. Nothing struck your fancy though, each dress you slipped on had something wrong with it— too tight, too loose, too many embellishments, not enough embellishments, too heavy...

It was Steve who suggested the boutique, actually. One of his mother’s friends had a daughter who’d gotten her dress from a place in Indianapolis and said the service and selection were both top-notch. So you went and made a day trip out of it; Eddie and Steve would drop you and the girls off at the boutique and hang out in the city for the day.

Though, they really did try to weasel their way in to the appointment.

“The fact that you won’t let us join you is misandry.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “No, it isn’t, Eds!”

“Okay,” he relents, turning around to face you in the backseat, “Maybe not misandry, but definitely discriminatory. Dudes just wanna have fun!”

Steve laughs, pulling up in front of the boutique, waves to your mother who’s waiting on the sidewalk. “Y’never know,” he teases, “Could need a second opinion in there. Especially once they open the champagne.”

Eddie squawks at that, “You get to try on dresses and drink booze? I’m offended I’ve been left out here.”

Robin opens the backdoor with a roll of her eyes, “No boys allowed, dingus.”

You follow suit, giving Steve a small smile, “Thanks for driving us.”

His gaze softens, eyes meeting yours, “Happy to help. Now, go find a stunner in there for us, will ya?”

With a shake of your head, you bring yourself back to the moment. Sitting on the floor of your former home, moving boxes and tape littering the floor ready for you to pack up the pieces of your life. You look to Robin again, she’s unzipped the garment bag entirely revealing the bodice and skirt of the gown.

She watches you thoughtfully, “I mean, just to see if you still like it? That way we’ll know if we need to pack it or sell it.”

Sighing, you wipe your damp palms against your thighs and stand up. “Yeah,” you breathe, “Okay.”

Between the two of you, you managed to wrestle into the dress. Robin securing the delicate straps as you adjust the cups and situate yourself. The door creaks open to reveal Nancy, her eyes bright with interest.

Robin gives up with her attempts to fix the zipper and numerous buttons on the back, steps aside for Nancy to intervene.

“You��re gorgeous, babe,” Robin says, voice soft. “It looks amazing on you! Same as the day we found it.”

“It’s one hell of a dress.” Nancy agrees, the zipper pull sliding home. “No one would say no to you in that.”

Your laugh comes out as a choked thing, wet and raspy. You wipe your eyes in an effort to prevent any tears from falling. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He didn’t even have to see the dress to know that he no longer wanted you.

“Thanks, guys.”

Feeling brave enough to look at the mirror, you pause in perusal. And sure enough, it’s a stunner. Delicate lace embellished the corseted bodice, waist nipped just enough to amplify the bust. The skirt flowed down in layers of silk and tulle, the lace accenting the frothy peaks and valleys of it.

Turning, you noticed the low-dip of the back, highlighted by the beginnings of the train. It was a gown meant for a cathedral wedding, a long aisle as you walked toward the altar. A beautiful wedding dress for a wedding that no longer was.

It was getting difficult to justify keeping it.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, bursting into the room slack-jawed, “Your tits look great!”

Robin smacks him, “No boys allowed, dingus!”

“Yeah, Eddie, don’t you know what a closed door means?”

He grins, “I think we know by now that, no, I clearly do not.”

Hearing footsteps coming down the hall, you turn to Nancy eyes wide. “Nance, the door–”

She shuts it quickly, keeping a hand on the knob. Robin and Eddie stop their bickering long enough to share a meaningful glance. You fist the full of the skirt in both hands and motion for Robin’s help in getting the dress off.

“Uh.” Steve says, voice muffled through the closed door, “What’s going on in there?”

“Nothing!” You’re quick to respond, trying and failing to keep the panic from your voice, “Just packing up some stuff.”

“Riiiight.” He drawls, “Then do I hear Eddie in there talking about tits?”

“Hey man,” Eddie says in his own defense. “I just wandered in here, I know nothing.”

“And why is the door locked?”

Nance’s eyes go to the doorknob as it jiggles in her hand. “We’re trying to figure out what to do with the dress,” she says in a breathless rush.

If looks could kill, Nancy would have dropped to the floor. You narrow your eyes at her and turn with a huff.

“What dress— t-the wedding dress?”

“Yes, Steve.” Robin sighs. “That’s the one.”

The doorknob swivels again, “C’mon, just open the door guys. Eddie’s seen it and I am officially the only one who hasn’t.”

“No!” You shout.

Everyone stops to look at you, eyes wide.

“I mean,” you sputter indignantly, stepping out of the dress and throwing on your overly large t-shirt. “S’not a big deal, I’ll probably sell it, anyway.”

Robin and Eddie maneuver it back into the garment bag with a zip just as Nancy steps away from the door, gaze soft taking in your drawn face.

Steve stumbles in soon after to find you, pants-less, the hem on your shirt grazing your bare thighs, furiously taping boxes closed and scribbling in sharpie.

“Nothing to see here!” You say, stumbling into your bike shorts, tugging them back up. “No siree, nothing at all.”

His chest falls slightly, looking from you to the pink garment bag and back again. Robin catches the minute change in his expression before he’s picking up a box and carrying it out into the hall, not a word to be said about the dress.

And all that runs through your mind is a frantic buzz of ‘It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress.’ Never mind that you were no longer a bride and Steve was never your intended groom. Any rational know-how kicked from your thoughts in an echo of your hammering heart.

Why your exhausted brain conjured up that particular episode, you had no idea. The instance was promptly forgotten, the dress stored at your parent’s place, and Steve never brought it up again.

Thank God for that.

Maybe it was because of Nancy and Jonathan’s looming nuptials. He’d popped the question not long after Nance moved in, and it had been full-steam ahead since March. The ceremony was to happen at the end of summer, just as your intensive was wrapping up.

She’d nearly had a coronary when you’d expressed your doubts about being able to attend.

“I’m not getting married without you Trouble, so sweet-talk those profs into letting you sit your exams early and get the fuck back home.” She sighs down the line, “There’s only so much of moping Steve we can take— Eddie is about ready to strangle him.”

You huff a laugh, “Yeah, I’m surprised he’s held out this long.”

“Yeah, she agrees dryly, "We all know you two'll take any excuse to get Steve in a headlock.”

“I don’t need an excuse,” You scoff. “That punk needs to be put in his place.”

You’d taken up Nance on her no-nonsense advice and your professors had graciously allowed you to submit your final papers early in order to make the wedding. Unfortunately, you’d miss out on a few of the celebrations like the bridal shower, bachelorette party, and rehearsal dinner— your flight would be landing just as the festivities began— but, Nancy and Jonathan had agreed to help you surprise the gang.

For all Robin, Eddie, and Steve knew there was absolutely, positively no way you could get out of your scheduled final exams. It sucked, as Robin rightfully pointed out, that you’d have to miss your best friend’s wedding but they all understood.

Steve was more hangdog about it than ever.

“Thanks Sandro,” You call out, plastic spoon in your mouth as you quickly step out the door, leaving a €5 note on the counter before he could stop you with a, “Your money is no good here, bella!”

Your phone buzzes in your bag, ducking under an awning your scramble through your well-worn tote bag to find it, throwing your sunglasses on in the process.

“Hey Fratty light,” You greet with a smile, spooning another cool helping of blood orange flavored ice into your mouth. “Do any good keg stands lately?”

Steve’s laugh nearly eclipses the warmth of the sun on your skin, a surge of heat building low in your stomach.

“At least I didn’t fall off the keg.”

“That was one time!” You scoff, jogging across the street before an aggressive Vespa can mow you down. Pulling the phone away from your mouth, you give the driver the ombrello gesture and shout, “Vaffanculo!”

He chuckles at your outburst, “Tell ‘em babe!”

“I’ll have you know, I stuck that landing Harrington and, it was quite the crowd-pleaser if I recall.”

“Sure Trouble,” You can nearly hear the eye roll at your expense, “It was the landing and not the fact that you were wearing those panties.”

The fact that he remembered the pair in question has you reeling, you nearly run into a fellow pedestrian in your dazed state.

“Anyway,” You say, cleaning your throat. “What’s on the sad boy agenda for today? Getting into divorced dad rock, any Matchbox-20 or Creed in your future?”

“God, you’re awful, and no, thanks very much.”

You hear a door slam and a car engine turn over. Someone muttering about Steve’s ‘utter lack of taste’ in music— Eddie, without a doubt.

He sighs down the line, pulling on your heartstrings because you miss them all so damn much, but Steve most of all.

“Just helping with some wedding stuff.” His voice is softer, sadder knowing you won’t be there to celebrate with them. “Boring shit, you know.”

You hum in agreement, “Well I’ll let you get to it. Don’t let Eddie flirt with too many bridesmaids!”

“You got it, chief,” Steve says, “Take care of yourself babe.”

“You too, big boy.” A huff of laughter at hearing his scoff, “Byyyeeee.”

And maybe it happens like Nance said it would, things just fall into place when they’re meant to.

After a flight from hell— a toddler would not, for love or money, stop kicking the back of your seat on the evening flight from Milan to Berlin, and you were stuck in the backmost row from Berlin to Indianapolis on the red-eye. It was a miracle you rolled up to your parents' house in one piece. You’d arrive at the venue to get ready with the rest of the bridal party where you’d hopefully be able to keep Robin sworn to secrecy.

You weren’t above putting her into a headlock, if it came down to it.

Dress, shoes, and make-up bag hastily thrown in your mom’s car, you drove to the venue just outside of Hawkins. A lovely little outdoor property owned by a local family, groves of trees and the finest collection of wildflowers you’d ever seen— fitting for Nancy and Jonathan.

You arrive in a slightly mussed frenzy, arms weighed down with your bridesmaid dress and a weekend bag that did fuck-all to protect you from the sudden onslaught of summer rain. Cursing the permeability of Indiana summers, you walk swiftly toward the bridal cottage.

The squelch of your shoes and drops of rain accompany you across the tiled path. Breathe. A steady inhale pulls the comforting scent of petrichor to your lungs, tucked safely behind the cage of your ribs. A shift in the light, a cloud makes way for the sun to shine once more; you scramble for the club masters perched on your head, impossibly tangled (of course) in a damp nest of hair.

Pried free, you rest the glasses against your nose bridge and stroll to the door. Before you can wrestle a hand free to knock, the door swings open to reveal a tipsy Vickie and bemused Nancy. A smirk settles on your lips as the two shuffle you into the cottage, tutting at the state of your hair and general tardiness.

“It is a wedding y’know,” Vickie teases grabbing the canvas bag from you. “Could make an effort to be on time.” She drops a wink your way before absconding toward the vanity table to deliver your belongings elsewhere.

Nancy huffs and rolls her eyes, taking the dresses from your arm. “Ignore her,” she soothes, “Seems the title of temporary co-M.O.H. has gone straight to her head.” She shoves a flute of champagne into your empty hand and leads you inside. “But you’re here, so the title can rightfully fall to you.”

“And how is the blushing bride?” You smile, taking in her cool, calm demeanor.

She’s notoriously hard to ruffle, so you’re not surprised to find Nancy the same as ever, albeit a tad buzzed from the champagne.

“Fuck a duck!” Robin shouts, colliding with part of the doorway as she takes the corner to quickly in her haste to get to you, having heard your voice from down the hall. She trips falling into you in a quasi-hug that’s mostly all elbows jabbed into your ribs.

“Walk with dignity, you overgrown toddler,” You laugh sipping some champagne, wrapping your arm around her in a proper hug. She buries her face into your neck with a smile. “And before you even ask, no you cannot, under any circumstance, tell your emotional support Steve about this.”

You feel her frown before she pulls back from you, “I can keep a secret y’know.”

“I don’t doubt it Bucks, just wanna surprise him is all.”

“He has no idea? Oh shit, this is gonna be good.” She says with a cackle before trotting off to help Vickie with her dress.

“Alright Wheels,” You announce polishing off your flute of champagne, “Let me at it, where’s the hairspray?”

After furious coating of L’Oreal’s finest to her hair after you’d secured a few flowers in place, you cough in a haze of hairspray and sagely advise, “That’s good for three slow dances, two fast ones, and one Lambada…” You warn, capping the canister to set it aside. “But if you wanna mosh, I’d suggest another coat.”

Nancy laughs at the suggestion, “I think we’re good.” She checks your handiwork in the mirror with a smile, “Can I ask you something Trouble?”

“Shoot.”

She turns to face you and lowers her voice to a whisper while the other bridesmaids are busy with false eyelashes and zipping up dresses. “Have you given any thought to what I said back in May?”

Ah, that conversation. The one where she (lovingly) warned you off of Steve if you weren’t certain about your feelings for him. Your big, overwhelming feelings. As if you could forget them, even thousands of miles away.

“You know,” You begin, voice pitched to meet hers, “I had a bit of time to think over the summer, no distractions, just me and the Tuscan sun.”

She stands to slip into her dress and you follow to assist— it’s a beautiful number, all minimal sleek lines and fitted to her like a glove. Nancy is gorgeous, but Nancy on her wedding day is otherworldly. She dutifully turns for you to button up the back and arrange the train for photos.

“And?”

Your eyes meet in the mirror, hers curious but not prying, yours wide, reeling from it all— the pro/con lists, numerous conversations with your mom, Eddie, and Nance, the letters, emails, voice notes, calls and texts from Steve. Somehow, some way they all amounted to this:

“You remember my twenty-first birthday?”

“How could I forget,” She chuckles knowingly, “Spin the bottle, right?”

A nod, you busy yourself smoothing out the few lines in the silhouette of the dress. “And a bit of liquid courage.”

There is no good reason why the eight of you should be doing this. Back at the loft after a night of carousing and bar-hopping, imbibed enough complimentary birthday drinks that spin the bottle seemed like a good idea. Even if the bottle in question is some ridiculously expensive high-roller shit swiped from Mr. Harrington’s study.

You’re warm, leaning on Eddie’s shoulder and whispering in his ear— goading him about kissing someone. Steve hopes it’s not you.

The glass mouth of the bottle spins to a stop in front of Jonathan who groans loudly before clambering over the whoops and hollers.

“Lay it on ‘im Munson!”

You tip backwards and shriek in glee when their lips touch. Eddie returns to your side with a roll of his eyes, pokes your knee with his finger. “Pucker up, buttercup. You’re next.”

Argyle cracks his knuckles, taps his chin thoughtfully, “Alright chica.” He says, “Hope you get Nance or Vic. Make it nice and steamy up in here.”

Steve hopes it’s him and not Nancy, selfishly. The rest of them be damned, if the bottle lands on him he’s going to frog-leap over Eddie, shove him to the side and kiss you good. If it lands on anyone else, he may get arrested for murder tonight.

There’s really no excuse for it— the longing. Best friends since childhood who drifted apart because, as always, he was a dumbass. Kissed you all of one time after the Homecoming dance freshman year and that was barely a peck.

The bottle lands on Vickie.

Slightly tipsy and putting on a show, you bite your bottom lip and lean in, slanting your mouth over hers with a soft sigh. The sound sinks into Steve’s gut and he groans in agony— jealous you’d rather kiss his ex or the redhead rather than him. Nevermind that the bottle was nowhere near landing on him.

“Keep it PG, ladies!” Robin calls, “This is taking way too long!”

“Bucks, shut up. I’m trying to take a video.” Nancy slaps the phone from Eddie’s hand.

Having had enough of it all, Steve stands. “Not that this isn’t how I want to spend my night…” he mumbles, hands patting his thighs. “But I’m peacing out.”

You look up, distracted, and bottom lip a little wet from Vickie, eyes hazy from the long night of celebrating, and quirk your head. “You leavin’, Stevie? Wan’ me to walk you?”

“What— like he’s gonna get lost from here to his room?”

Steve is going to get arrested tonight for murdering Eddie. Tries to keep his cool, regardless.

“S’okay birthday girl, I’ll be fine. You have fun.”

You hop up anyway, a bit blundering in your step, and grab his hand to yank him forward. “C’mon… I gotcha.” Fortified with liquor, you tug him along, turning a corner and chattering about how as much as you appreciate that expensive whiskey, you’d rather have a beer. There’s nothing better than some pretzels, beer, and a movie.

“Oh, uh, s-sorry.” Your hand loosens before you pull it away, self-consciously.

“For what?”

“I know we haven’t been, like, close for a while now. I didn’t mean to grab you like that.”

Oh. The realization dawns on him now, like a crash of lightning— you think he’s guarded… but he’s only been reserved for your sake.

He calls your name, followed by a murmured, “C’mere for a second.”

You lean against his bedroom door, dazed but curious. Steve steps forward until you’re nearly chest to chest, back against the wood. Your mouth opens with a nearly inaudible gasp, but he can see your pulse kick up in your throat. “Yeah?”

"You remember our first kiss?" He waits for you to nod before continuing. "I think I owe you a do-over."

Confusion flits across your face, a solitary brow quirked up in interest. "You wanna mulligan my first kiss, like... seven years after the fact?"

He ducks his chin in embarrassment, skin flushing with heat. "Yeah, I mean, if you're open to it?" He scratches the back of his neck and mumbles, "I just think you deserve better."

You bite your lip in thought, and Steve wants nothing more than to shrivel up and die— but then, you nod, and before he can think better of it, he takes his chance.

Purposefully, Steve tilts your face up fingers, trailing along your chin and jaw, thumbing the full of your bottom lip. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, all whooshes and erratic beats, almost enough to drown out the words that fall from his lips.

And then, the perfect genius that is Steve Harrington leans down to close the distance between you. Satisfied that your face is tilted just so, his hand sweeps back your hair to cradle your head as his lips descend to yours.

He kisses you like he’s got all the time in world— like it isn’t past three in the morning and you’re about a minute from slipping under. He kisses lazy, slow, and sublime. Presses you closer to him, an arm winding around your waist to pull you from the wall. More, kissing—tongues and lips and teeth— more of that touch you’ve only dreamed about and you want to kick yourself for missing it, for even daring to fantasize when the real thing is so much more.

Your palms are on his chest, pawing at him for leverage, struggling to refrain from bucking your hips up into him like you so desperately want to do. Steve pulls back with a contented sigh, and you’re surprised there isn’t a string of saliva strung between the pair of your for all the swapping spit that just occurred. There’s nothing but you and him. His gaze, so tentative and sweet, meets yours briefly as he stands back hands shoved quickly into his pockets.

“I meant something like that.”

Your mouth tugs at a corner, as if you could laugh or cry. Or smile.

Steve lets out a breathy chuckle, brandishes a small, hopeful smile, and runs a hand through his hair.

You nod. And it’s enough.

“I–I think I’ve known for a while.” You admit sheepishly, looking for any last-minute adjustments that need to be made before the precessional. One hand grasping her train, you follow Nancy toward the door. Taking a shaky breath in, you say, "Guess some part of me has been in love with him since I fell off the fence and into his backyard that first summer."

She stops short and turns back to you elated because she knows the story all too well. Steve doesn't get drunk enough to talk about it often–- the man has a wooden leg, hand to god. But once in a blue moon, it'll happen: how the new neighbor's daughter nearly busted her ass sneaking back home way after her curfew, too buzzed on shitty wine coolers and reeking of weed to realize that she'd fallen on the wrong side of the fence.

Hastily, Robin thrusts a bouquet of flowers into Nancy’s hand. Just before the band starts up, Nancy gives your hand a squeeze and advises, “Sometimes what’s meant for you comes back, Trouble. Don’t let it slip by, okay?”

Steve is just looking to survive the day, he’ll be grateful to get through, honestly.

He was beyond bummed you couldn’t be there for Nance’s wedding and that he’d be sitting with her cousin instead— she’d talked his ear off during the rehearsal dinner last night about her current rewatch of Sex and The City. He’d never been so relieved to be pulled into bridal party duties by Eddie than he was that night.

And, to top it off, you weren’t answering your phone. Logically, he knew you’d be in exams for most of the day but you normally sent him a text or voice note once you woke up or before you made it to class for the day.

He’s pathetic. Eddie forced him to leave his phone in the groom’s suite and now he feels phantom vibrations from something that isn’t even in his pocket. Heaving a sigh, he lines up ready to escort Vickie and mentally preparing himself for a detailed recounting of the havoc that Samantha’s absence has caused the SATC franchise from the Wheeler cousin.

“You know,” A lazy, familiar voice drawls to his right, “If I was a riptide, I wouldn’t take you out.” An arm loops through his, comfortable and intimate.

But no— it couldn’t possibly be…

“Hey, Harrington.” You say, quietly, knocking your hips to his, casually holding a bouquet in your hand, all easy smiles and warm touches. When Steve finally does turn, he blinks a few times to confirm that you're not some hallucination.

Because you’re here, impossibly, you’re home, and everything is finally right in the world.

You reach over to straighten his tie, the alexandrite ring gleaming on your right hand and catching the light.

“How did you—” He stammers, bereft of language.

But then there’s that smirk he adores. “Some of us are stealthy, y’know. Like a ninja.”

“Oh, fuck me right in the mouth.” He laughs loud and bright, a few people turn back in their chairs to look.

You sputter briefly as the precessional begins, hand lighting on his arm with a gentle squeeze. “Uh, that can certainly be arranged, Harrington.”

In that moment he knew, with a certain sense of finality, that he had no choice but to love you; all his love and, if he’s being honest, fear, reflected there in your eyes.

The ceremony is beautiful, of course, and the reception is now in full swing. The new Mr. and Mrs. Byers shared an adorable first dance to “At Last” by Ella Fitzgerald, which nearly had you tearing up before Steve twirled you out onto the dancefloor.

“Hey, good lookin’,” He says with a smile so sweet, it almost makes you weak in the knees.

It’s a slow song, something to get the couples up and out of their seats. Over his shoulder you spy Robin and Vickie making goony eyes at eachother while Eddie and Argyle stumble around both trying to lead the other— idiots.

“Hi, Steve.” You reply, eyes making their way back to him. “Y’know, they say you should never trust a man who can dance.”

“And why’s that, honey?”

You shrug, “Dunno. Apparently they’re all heartbreakers or something.”

Steve, thanks to his mother’s needling and his father’s need to keep up appearances, could dance. He’d escorted many a debutante, including yourself, during Cotillion. You can still hear Savannah’s nasally “Did you know that five out of six debs marry their escorts?”

But, then again, she was also drinking from the fun flask at the ripe age of sixteen. So, do with that what you will.

He spins you easily, like it’s nothing, and before you know it you’re back in his arms. His brow is furrowed in thought, but what he could possibly be thinking you hadn’t a clue. So you continue to follow his lead across the dance floor and silently thank Mrs. Harrington for forcing you and Steve into those dance classes way back when, even if he stepped on your toes and you retaliated with an accidental elbow to his ribs— knock-kneed teens the pair of you.

So much has changed since then.

The music pauses, as someone announces that the bride will toss the bouquet. You go to find the bar, but Steve promises he’ll come back with a drink for you instead and then Eddie is hustling you toward the crowd of “single ladies.”

“Eds, no.” You attempt to swat him away, but he’s having none of it.

“Far as I know, you and Harrington are fuck buddies. No declarations,” His eyes fall to your left hand, “No ring. Beyoncé would insist, sugar.”

You’ve always had a sixth sense about things. When you were younger, your family and friends often thought it was an ability— but in truth, it’s just a mixture of careful perception, logical thinking, and educated guessing.

But not even your sixth sense could explain how you’d ended up catching the bouquet. Especially with a vodka and tonic in one hand and standing at the rear of the gaggle of gals gathered for the event. Didn’t even want to take part, far more interested in finding the coat check room and seeing how long it would take Steve to blow his load once you finally got your mouth on him.

So it’s a surprise, either luck or Nance’s killer aim, when her bouquet lands in your hand, the ribbon wrapped stems falling neatly into your palm just as you turn to shout something at Eddie behind you. Catching Steve’s knowing smirk and hearing Eddie’s piercing wolf-whistle, you give him an exaggerated wink before tossing back your drink.

It’s not long after that, a few more spins around the dance floor, some cake, and more liquor, tasteful toasts from you and Argyle, fond farewells to the newlyweds and bags thrown into cars for a quick getaway, that Steve tosses you— bouquet in hand, over his shoulder and dips out of there. Ignoring Eddie’s teasing of Irish exits and Irish twins, he sets you on your feet again to lean you against the car and kisses you positively stupid.

But it’s not a surprise when Steve finally asks you the question he’s been dying to for nearly the entire summer on the drive home, Nancy’s bouquet resting against the dash as you toe off your heels.

“Hey mind-reader, how long did it take?”

“Hmm?” Pleasantly sleepy from jet lag, your mind struggles to spark a fuse of comprehension. Steve raises a solitary brow in interest.

"Whaddya mean?" You mumble out between stifled yawns.

His hand rests on your leg while he drives, big and warm, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of your dress. Steve, bless him, won't press you on it, but he also wouldn't have asked something so casually for no reason. He's crafty like a fox when he wants to be.

You take a breath and let yourself really think about it. If you’re taking the question seriously, which you damn well should, he deserves an explanation. Hesitantly, you remind Steve of the near fiasco with the wedding dress back at your old place. He nods at your rambling, how guilty and scared you felt at shutting him out.

“So, yeah, between the moving-in playlist and me being bat-shit terrified of you seeing me in a wedding dress,” You summarize, fingers finding their way to his once more. The warm glow of the streetlights cast shafts of light through the windows. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a window, Steve Harrington," You conclude with a smirk.

His eyes widen in realization, “Oh, so that’s what you were apologizing for before left for Joshua Tree.” An annoyed sigh before a sharp inhale takes its place. “You’re so stupid.”

Back at the loft, fumbling hands in elevators lips spit slick and ruddied, Steve bats away your grabby hands with an exasperated huff as they light upon his chest. Nearly dropping his keys when they find a better way to occupy themselves.

Once inside, he presses his face into your neck, kissing hungrily, anywhere he can, down to your collarbones and chest and then he’s lifting you up by the thighs, kicking the door close, and instinctively pulling everything off.

He peels his shirt off and throws it onto the floor while you shimmy out of your dress. His mouth hasn’t left yours for anything other than to breathe.

His hands stop at the curve of your hips. The room is spinning— the entire world moving too fast in a feverish haze. Years of close-quartered friendship and the first intimate touches in months have jumped right into the deep end. You don’t even know when the two of you made way back into his room, but the door clicks shut with a kick from his foot.

“Hey, mind-reader, I got two questions for you,” Steve calls teasingly. “First, how big did you think I was, y'know before? When you accused me of, how did you put it... harboring a fugitive?”

Your brain briefly short-circuits at that, mildly embarrassed. He laughs at your slow, owlish blinks while you formulate a response other than, "Well, I, uh..."

"Okay, okay," He drops a kiss to your brow, soothing your worries away, “Second…”

You gulp. Your legs feel like jelly— all the smart words in the entire world wiped completely from existence. The pause he takes is punishingly long and the grin he gives you nearly makes you faint.

His pants are shucked somewhere near the bedroom door. One of your hands goes into his hair, other guiding him between your legs where you smear all over his fingers.

"S'been a while, do you think you can take it?”

“Oh,” A smirk quirks your lips, hand scrabbling for purchase on his tanned skin, “I think you know I can.”

Later, after frenzied forays in tangled sheets and revelling in the afterglow, you place your hand over his chest, selfishly counting his heartbeats.

You breathe, soft and sweet, “Steve,” the sound of your voice a warm balm in the inky dark. “Steve,” You say again and kiss his neck, turning toward you on the rumpled bed he kisses you, as if he could ever get enough.

“I love you.”

He pulls back, just enough so that you wrap your leg around his hips, sheet slipping off as his fingers trail up your thigh. Grazing the tip of his nose ever so lightly against your temple, you feel the rumble of laughter through his chest as it heaves against yours.

Rolls you onto your back, legs falling open to cradle his hips while he holds himself above you, hair falling into his face, “Took you long enough,” he grins, kissing you again. Your cheeks, your jaw, your chin. “I love you too, honey.”

His love is heavy and you delight in the gravity of it as he slips his way back inside, your hands pulling him closer than anyone can ever or will ever get again. It feels fated— the way your body moves and his responds in kind.

Steve only keens your name in reply.

Spun clear out of your body in the haze, pure joy erupts from your mouth, hands scrambling for him, so woozy and giddy you can’t help it.

So this is love, after all.

Finis.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #stranger things fan fiction #modern!steve #teacher!steve #the kids aren't alright - rosewateverandivy #Spotify

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circular-bircular · 6 months

Text

“You can have DID without trauma!”

Vent art. Mod “Armageddon.” Tw for COCSA and general abuse.

You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.

You go through 15 years, not knowing this — just existing in a haze, having such a bright childhood, one you grasp for later in the dark moments, trying desperately to hold onto it.

At 15, you realize, wait. I think something’s wrong. You realize you don’t feel like “yourself” — and even more alarming, you don’t know who “you” even are. You hear voices, suddenly, in your head. You find notes you clearly wrote, but it’s someone else’s handwriting, someone else’s words to “you.”

You just need to figure out who “you” is.

You go to your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend because your abusive neglectful overbearing parents would never understand, or might be too worried about you. You ask them, “What’s wrong with me? I’m scared. I’m confused. I feel like I’m going to die.”

They smile. They want you, they need you to stay, and to stay you can’t be scared. “Don’t worry — that’s normal.”

You sigh in relief. Thank goodness. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nothing is wrong. The voices are just normal things everyone else experiences. The fun imaginative things in my head are normal. The fighting, screaming, sobbing, fear, need to run, need to love, need to help everyone while fully believing you’re about to get hit, or touched, or watched, always watched—

Don’t worry. That’s normal.

You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.

You are 19. You’re not sure when that happened — isn’t time silly that way? You are normal. You were a bit “quirky” and “cringy” in high school, roleplaying a lot. You do not remember the voices in your head. You do not remember their names. You do not remember two entire years of high school, and you do not remember that you have forgotten.

You see a student presentation in class about a story, and how the main character could be read as having dissociative identity disorder. “The symptoms come from childhood trauma,” the student says, “but people don’t always remember their trauma.”

She describes the symptoms. You feel… weird. Why does that sound so familiar? So normal? You laugh a little and look around, expecting everyone else to be rolling their eyes at such an obvious observation. How ridiculous of psychologists to diagnose a very normal thing, right? But everyone else is nodding along, very interested, and the professor praises the student for her psychological lens, and “valuable research gathering on a rare disorder.”

You don’t remember going to your dorm, or the test you took that day online. The next thing you remember is not being “you” anymore, because “you” is locked in a room in your mind, and now you’re someone else, sobbing at the website you’ve pulled up. It’s about dissociative identity disorder.

You’re not you. You’re someone else.

You go to your best friend. You tell them everything at 4am, sobbing because you don’t know what to do anymore, and you’re scared, because you don’t know who you are.

“You’re not crazy. This isn’t normal, but you aren’t crazy. I believe you.”

You breathe for the first time in years months weeks days.

You are 19. You have DID. You think.

There’s only one problem; you don’t have trauma. You do. It’s there. They hurt you so much, you idiot, why can’t you hear the voices screaming that at you? So what on earth are you experiencing?

You try to research it. All you have is a DSM-III and resources on multiple personality disorder. And, of course, tumblr — your home away from home.

You find a war happening. People with trauma versus people who say they have none. They all seem to hear voices, and many are angry and struggling and confused, just like you. You must be like these “plurals” you’ve seen. The ones without trauma but with DID. That’s not what that was, and you know that now, but it’s was so hard to tell back then.

You join them. “I have DID,” you say, “but I don’t have trauma.”

“That’s okay!” They tell you. “You can have DID without trauma.”

What a relief. You’re normal. You’re fine. You’re not like those anti-endos, you’re told. “They medicalize their systems,” you’re told, “and their therapists are abusing them.” You feel so bad for those poor systems. They’re not like you; you’re fine. You’re normal. Unlike them.

You try to avoid the traumatized ones, but you see so many of them getting angry. They keep yelling about these people who don’t have trauma, who are “appropriating a disorder” — that same disorder you clearly have, but you don’t have trauma.

You crash your car while dissociating so hard that you hallucinate your parts headmates around you. And you are happy, because at least you have a family to take care of you. Isn't it so nice to see your parts headmates in real life?

You're normal. It's okay. You don't have trauma. You don't need trauma to be a system, and you love being a system. No you DON'T, the parts scream, you're dreaming! Wake up! Wake up, please, god, don't let that woman hug you, don't you know what she did--

You keep moving on.

Then you see the arguments that spark something in you. “You need trauma, but the age range is wider than you’d think.”

Your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend from high school. There’d been that time you fell out with her. That time you blew up at her because she’d kissed you in public, blamed you for teasing her too much. You realize how little you remember.

What else have you forgotten?

“I have trauma but it’s well past the age range,” you say to an anti-endo, knowing you shouldn't have spoken to them, because everyone tells you not to -- but none of them are traumatized, and this person is. “What’s wrong with people having this disorder without trauma?”

“There’s decades of research on this,” you’re told. “It sounds like you do have trauma. Consider that you might have some you don’t remember. Otherwise, you don’t have DID.”

You are 19. You have DID, you know it. You ignore this person. “These other people told me I don’t need trauma. You’re just gatekeeping. You’re just wrong. I’m not traumatized. I’m not like you. I’m better.”

You go to the ones who comforted you, listened to you, manipulated you. "I have trauma, I think, but it's past the age those anti-endos talk about, how ridiculous are they?"

"I'm so proud of you for standing up to those sysmeds! A lot of us have been traumatized because of how people treat our system. I'm sorry those anti-endos traumatized you."

"Well, it wasn't them -- but you're right. Anti-endos are traumatizing. They've traumatized me."

You believe the lie you spread, because they spread it first, and it sounds right. You do not mention that you learned you were sexually assaulted by a peer as a child. That would just be trauma dumping, and that would make you no better than a sysmed.

You are 19. You’re “cured” of your DID, because the plurals around you say that if you like your system, you don’t have DID. They say if you can’t remember your trauma, you probably don’t have any, and “most DID is caused by trauma, you just might be a disordered plural.” They call you endogenic, or mixed-origin, or autigenic. Trying to suggest you have DID leads to them talking about those horrible traumatized systems DID systems disordered systems anti-endos.

“You can’t listen to them. You can’t reblog from them. They’re homophobic, racist, transphobic, bigoted, ableist, wrong. Any information they share is ableist.”

You listen. You always have. You roll your eyes good naturedly at them suggesting you don't have trauma -- they just meant your system isn't caused by trauma. They just misspoke. That's all.

... But what if they're right?

You are 20. You are a ????? system. You say you have DID, because you are disordered and fit all of the criteria, and you can have DID without trauma. Maybe you are just plural?

You start getting into fights with systems online. You spread misinformation your experiences. Anyone who disagrees with you is an ableist gatekeeper. You get fakeclaimed and it hurts. Now you are traumatized by anti-endos. You try to avoid them more, falling deeper into those circles that include everyone, including you. They must love you. They love everyone.

You see a post about trauma. You realize, slowly, so so slowly, your parents have hurt you. You remember everything. No??? You remember so little, the voices scream, sob, you can’t remember it because you’re not even trying to. Why bother trying when you can live in denial, and keep getting abused each time you go home, and keep getting hurt worse and worse every single weekend?

You are 20. You are a DID system. You have trauma. You know some of it.

You go to your manipulators harassers friends. “I figured it out! My system was formed my trauma!"

“Oh, you poor soul, who told you that?”

You feel cold. “What?”

“Those awful anti-endos fakeclaiming you-“

You feel isolated. “No?”

“You can’t listen to them. You’re autigenic. You’re being manipulated. You don’t have trauma.”

“My parents-“

“They love you, that’s not abuse. They were rich, that’s not abuse. They only yelled at you, that’s not abuse. You aren’t traumatized — don’t let the anti-endos convince you that you are.”

You are desperate. “But my DID!”

They frown at you. “You don’t need trauma to have DID. Saying otherwise makes you a sysmed."

You leave your friends. They weren’t friends at all.

You isolate. You have nobody. You made it clear that you would not speak to the filth anti-endos traumatized systems like yourself. You have nobody left to talk about your trauma with.

You are 21. You are a traumatized DID system. You only have your partner and in real life friends. Your abusers force you to drink on your birthday, and come into your safe space. You have nightmares for weeks.

Then you’re 22 and you are stuck with your abusers. You can see their faces now. You know the truth. You feel sick.

You are 23. 24. 25. You find new circles. You've researched trauma more, not nearly enough. You briefly become anti-endo, frustrated as you see more and more people hurt like you were, frustrated that the pro-endo spaces do not have any resources for those like you. Then you mellow, you try to divorce your trauma from your experience online. You try to find places to spread research and knowledge, to be traumatized and have people recognize what that means.

You are attacked for being traumatized, because this space has never been safe for trauma victims. You remember how you used to think when you were 19. You remember how you felt when you were left all alone. You try to keep the doors open, but it's so so hard, and you have to take care of yourself too. But you try. God, you try to help others.

You are 26.

You are in so many circles — endogenic, plural, CDD, traumatic, traumagenic, it doesn’t matter. You have so many people.

You see people telling others, “You don’t need trauma to have DID!” You take a deep breath and follow what your disgusting medicalist inclusive and welcoming therapist has taught you about stopping spirals. You try not to say anything deep at first, because you’re clearly triggered, and recent lessons have taught you more that you need can’t be traumatized online without getting hurt badly.

But you see people denying their trauma. Saying, “I don’t remember any trauma, and even if I did have trauma, I don’t feel like I do."

You remember being that way. You remember not remembering. You remember how your parents sexually abused you, now, even after you thought you’d remembered it all. You remember how your parents hit you and neglected you alongside their overbearing lack of boundary keeping. You remember how you convinced yourself it wasn’t trauma.

You remember how you went back, for years, because of what people said.

You could have left at 19. You had the chance. The options. The doors to freedom were wide open, and you did not step out, because you thought your cage was already freedom.

How much sooner could you have been free if you had simply acknowledged you had trauma, and it had been made clear that it was okay to have trauma? That it would be safe to leave? That you deserved to be able to leave?

You do research. You've done research. You try to find proof of endogenic -- of non-trauma -- DID. You find fakeclaiming. You find people misinterpreting statistics, or even flat out lying about statistics. You find decades, even centuries of research, in the attempt to figure out what's happening. You even resort to literary analysis, because at least you might be able to find evidence of people discussing non-trauma DID as a legitimate scientific thing while psychoanalysing old texts -- just like back at 19, back in college, back when you first heard what DID was.

You find nothing.

You try to share your experiences still. You try to explain in more private spaces, spaces where there can't be anonymous hatred flung your way -- or worse, people who have determined that you are an enemy that must be defeated taking each word you say and twisting it to demonize you -- and you watch in horror as they remember.

"That's trauma?"

"That's disordered?"

"I've never heard of this before."

"I thought I was endogenic. I thought I didn't have trauma."

They're fine. They struggle -- but trauma is a struggle -- and more importantly, they now know what resources to even aim for. They know where to look. They know what can help.

You wish you'd known that.

And you will never, ever stop being bitter about the years those people took from you. You will never forgive them for their fakeclaiming. You will never forgive them for the years you spent being abused more.

But it's okay.

It's normal.

And isn't it better to be inclusive of that very slim amount of people who, despite all evidence to the contrary, and despite all of Occam's understandings, and despite the harm that inclusiveness does to those who are suffering, just have DID without any of that pesky, disgusting trauma?

What do I know? I'm just a filthy sysmed.

#venting #syscourse #You can reblog this #I don't mind #But I won't be responding to anything on this post I don't think #I just needed to get this out #Armageddon Comes While I'm Sleeping #tw csa #tw cocsa #tw abuse

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silent-sanctum · 11 months

Note

During sdc Kakyoin notices that reader and Jotaro like each other but they’re too oblivious to realize it, so he acts as a wingman.

Hello dear anon! Sorry it took a while to fulfill this request but hey, your request has been written ^^. Oh just to add in a lil something, I've written another request that's similar to yours, so maybe you'd like to check it out as well! Hope you enjoy~~

Playing Cupid - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 2k+

Kakyoin wasn’t the type to be invested in romance. The genre didn’t pique genuine interest from him due to the majority having a plot that involved someone getting paired with someone else and nothing else.

But just because he isn’t one to indulge in romantic content doesn’t mean he’s completely naïve to real-life chemistry. Most especially if the main characters so happens to be two of his close friends- one being a closed-off punk and the other an outspoken gal.

The second you stepped into the scene with utmost confidence and a flustered Jotaro in tow, he could detect the invisible spark between the two, with how the both of you would bounce off of each other’s energy seamlessly without the presence of friction. It’s as if all the bickering, subtle touches, and subconscious choice to stick together came naturally.

And Kakyoin would have enjoyed watching these two people get together... if it weren’t for the obvious hesitation present between you two.

From the delinquent’s part, he could understand. Jotaro wasn’t one to be expressive or open to anyone about his emotions. Everyone had to see the miniscule changes to his face, body language, and gestures in order to know him better on a deeper level, and no one could do that better than you and your keen observation skills towards people.

However, Kakyoin was more confused when it came to your part. You never seem to hesitate when you want something in mind. You often butted heads with numerous Stand users, constantly spoke out to the older adults of the group when you had something to say during the mission, had no issue with dealing conflict between parties as an assertive peacemaker.

But he couldn’t figure out why you couldn’t blurt out a simple confession when it was clear as day that you had feelings for the young Joestar.

It’s not like Jotaro would decline your approaches when he didn’t mind whenever you engaged with him in every opportunity you had. Kakyoin could tell from the way he would look away with a natural blush on his cheeks, the rare smiles he’d show, and the efforts he placed to be around you when he wasn’t the type to do that with others.

You two were into each other but both of you were two idiots that were too oblivious to see that.

So Kakyoin had to put things into course the best his single ass could do.

In certain situations when he found himself in the middle of you two, he’d offer up some excuse to leave you two alone or even suggesting the pair be together during area explorations, in hopes some extra bonding could get you two somewhere.

Alas no progress has been made and he started devising.

The first plan he had in mind was to get either you or Jotaro to think of the other, fueling each other to the point of letting out their inner sentiments. He wasn’t the best at the initiating conversations like you or Polnareff, but he did improve ever since he joined the gang.

He deployed his idea to action and...

“So I’ve noticed you’ve been sticking by Jotaro’s side more often than before. Mind telling me what’s all that about?”

You widened your eyes and flushed a faint pink. “Ah it’s nothing. I just find it more familiar when I’m with him, since you know, he’s the first guy I became friends with among all of us here.”

“I see, but you know what else I’ve noticed?” Kakyoin placed a finger under his chin with a thoughtful expression. “He’s been extra attentive to you lately.”

“O-Oh? You think so? But maybe that’s just because I’m a girl. You know how he is with the non-annoying females...”

“I don’t think so. He wouldn’t waste his time looking after the wellbeing of someone he doesn’t deeply care for. Hell, he’s been doubling his gestures for your happiness and security during the one time you were gloomy.”

You let out an antsy laugh, turning away from his gaze. “Er- He might just be doing those things since I’m his first long-lasting friend and all- Oh! Would you look at that!” You abruptly stood, faking a look to your watch. “It’s about time I meet up with Pol and Avdol!”

---

“Hey Jojo,” Kakyoin said as he sat on the chair adjacent to the relaxing teenager. Everyone else was out exploring the new area, leaving him the opportunity to talk. “Up for a chat?”

Jotaro let out one approving grunt and he took that response as a “yes”.

“Take this with a grain of salt, but you’ve been unusually close to Y/N these days,” he said that prompted the other to look at him with a pointed glare. “I mean I don’t blame you. She’s a delight to be with and I frankly would say I’m impressed by how you’re spending time with her-”

“What are you up to Kakyoin?” Jotaro cut him off, arms crossed.

“Well you see... I’m curious why the always-reserved-and-no-time-for-bullshit Jotaro Kujo is often hanging out with a girl who’s the polar opposite of him.”

“It’s none of your business,” the delinquent said with no hesitation. Another inquiry was about to slip past him when the other stood, tipping his hat over his face before walking off.

Though Kakyoin could still see that faint red in his cheeks that appered every time you were brought up.

He wasn’t sure if Plan A worked well. The main reason why he doubted it was because the two of you still remained the same as before, albeit with a hint of bashfulness now mixed in.

At this point, it became lowkey frustrating to see you two pining for each other without acting on it, but at the same time, found it lovely to watch you be lovey dovey towards the raven-haired, with the latter softening his demeanor at your every interaction.

Desperate moments called for desperate measures. Plan B arose and this time, he had help.

The guy looked like the type who would indulge in the concept of love. It might be because he came from a place known for romance, or maybe it was naturally ingrained in his system. He did know his ways on how to appeal to the female locals with a semblance of suave.

It would come to no surprise if he had an idea on how to pair you together.

“Pol, I need your help in something.”

The Frenchman busied himself with styling his silver hair up, but he glanced at the cherry-haired student with a smile. “What might that be?”

“You know Jotaro and Y/N? They’re kinda... into each other-”

“And it’s annoying that they’re not together yet! Oh my god, finally someone who shares the same feelings I have!” Polnareff dropped his comb to turn to Kakyoin.

“Right? That’s why I need your help.” He placed both hands on the adult’s shoulders. “They’re driving me crazy.”

“Say no more friend. I will do the best that I can.”

Plan B was put into action which ended up in Polnareff doing most of the work with Kakyoin in the side helping out with the minor mishaps.

The adult did what he did when Plan A was still a thing- had a long chat with both parties... but with extra steps. Unlike his straightforward approach of simply chatting, Pol’s tactics involved getting the person in a preferred activity where he and they could hang out in. Only then when they’re eased into it will he initiate the chat.

Kakyoin couldn’t tell the difference between their approaches but he trusted the older and hopefully wiser person in the room.

But Pol did what he did by taking you on a casual date on a nearby cafe, treating you with food and drinks before having the “friend talk”, while he offered the delinquent quality time for smoking around the corner, only for him to somehow transition into the topic of teenage crushes. Kakyoin helped in convincing them to go with him as part of his contribution.

By the end of the day (or rather the week), not much had changed similar to his efforts of trying to get them to confess, but the Frenchman had assured the bright-haired student to “give it time” and it’ll all fall into place.

Kakyoin didn’t know what he meant by that but he knew better to doubt a hopeless romantic.

Weeks passed and by this time, they just defeated another enemy Stand user and they thought they’d give themselves a small break on a small island where Avdol stayed, waiting for the submarine Mr. Joestar acquired that will transport them to Egypt.

Night came and the crew had just finished supper and now off doing whatever they felt like doing during the resting period. The cherry-haired stood by Polnareff the entire time, discussing matters about the updates of the latter’s plan. According to him:

“If my idea goes through, expect him to enter into pondering mode sometime within tonight. Then, we approach him and offer him ‘the advice’”

“Polnareff, you’ve been saying the exact same thing for the past few days.”

“I know, I know! But hear me out! This night is a moment where all of us are resting. Because there’s nothing much to do, Jotaro has no other choice but to retreat into his head and think, and what else is there to think about other than all of my chat about Y/N?”

“His mother's life?”

“W-Well that too, but also the success of his possible love life.”

Kakyoin would have given up with his so-called advice and perhaps even his whole plan of pairing you two... if it weren't for the envisioned scene happening before their eyes- you sat beside him the whole time until you excused yourself and left, leaving Jotaro still in his spot hunched over and deep in thought.

The Frenchman nudged his side and with a wink, he cocked his head towards the delinquent’s direction, muttering “advice time”.

So they did exactly that with Kakyoin being the one to open up first followed by the adult. In the end, you returned and led the poor confused guy into the forest.

Both Kakyoin and Polnareff were left speechless on their seats as they realized that all this time, they were too hyperfocused on Jotaro’s response that they didn’t consider how you would respond to the whole chat Pol stirred up.

After all, you were the more expressive between the both of you. It made sense and the cherry-haired teen didn’t know why he forgot about that minor tidbit about you.

“Do you think they’ll finally figure it out?”

“I really hope so. I’m getting tired of them just walking circles around each other.”

Few minutes passed and they hadn’t returned from their private talk. Polnareff had retreated to slumber land but Kakyoin stayed awake with his curiosity getting the best of him.

He crept through the bushes, toeing over fallen leaves and twigs to not cause any noise. To his knowledge, there was only one scenic spot in Avdol's place and he was willing to bet that you discovered the area as well.

With the path in mind, the teen continued trekking forward until he could see a break in the line of trees.

He reached his destination with admirable stealth and hid himself behind one of the wider trunks. With caution, Kakyoin leaned over slowly to get the glimpse of success.

On the gentle incline of the clearing, he found you peacefully napping with your body blanketed with his black gakuran, laying across the delinquent’s lap and your head situated on his shoulder, while the latter smiled to himself with a new glow to his face as had his eyes closed and his arm placed behind you to support your weight.

And to that, Kakyoin could finally put his goal to rest and actually allow himself to rest as well.

Guess playing cupid with the Frenchman was something he could again in the future.

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin

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agaypanic · 10 months

Text

Malcolm in the Middle Simp Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

Malcolm

Probably met you in the Krelboyne class

Very impressed by your brains

Always chooses you as a study buddy or project partner

Holds back complaints about life and shit just to hear you talk

This is very difficult for him to do bc the dude LOVES to complain

Holds your books/backpack for you and walks you to all your classes

Mainly because you have the same classes, but he insists he’d do it even if you didn’t

Learns everything about you and commits it to memory (which isn’t hard because of his memory)

You’re the best thing in his sucky life

Stevie had half a mind to roll away from his best friend as he went on and on about Herkabe. Something about him trying to get Malcolm to sabotage his perfect GPA so Herkabe could keep some academic record. Usually, Stevie would care very much about someone’s academic standing. But right now, he was focused on trying not to kill himself or Malcolm.

“I mean, it’s absolutely ridiculous! He’s using Reese to get me to tank a grade. Reese! It’d work better if it was-”

“Hey, guys!” You bounded towards the two, and Malcolm’s demeanor changed entirely. Stevie was grateful for your arrival because, for some reason, Malcolm lessened the bitching and moaning by a lot.

“Hey, Y/n.” The boys greeted back.

“So, what were you guys talking about?”

“Well-” Stevie was about to snitch on your boyfriend but was cut off by him.

“Oh, it was nothing.”

“Are you sure? You looked pretty passionate about it.” Malcolm assured you it was nothing, but Stevie gave you a look saying he’d tell you about it later. “Okay, then. Wanna go to class?”

“Sure!” Malcolm responded excitedly, grabbing his backpack off the lunch table you were hanging around. You said goodbye to Stevie and made your way to first period. “Want me to take your bag?” He asked but was already slipping the strap off your shoulder.

Reese

COOKS FOR YOU

ALL THE TIME

I’m convinced it’s his love language

From snacks to tide you over until lunch to full-course meals during the rare occasion that you two have the house to yourselves

Will beat the shit out of anyone who messes with you

If it’s a girl, he’ll probably get Cynthia to do it

Your happiness is his biggest priority; he can’t have some idiot messing with that

“Reese, this is delicious.” You moaned as you ate a baggie of your favorite snack that he had cooked up for you. He knew how hungry you’d get from skipping breakfast, so he packed you a little snack bag every day so you wouldn’t be miserable until lunch. He was somewhat surprised that the teacher hadn’t made him stop bringing food to class, but it might’ve had something to do with the fact that whenever you were happy, he was happy. And a teacher would rather have a happy Reese than an angry Reese.

“I think I might make that my go-to snack for you; you seem to like it the most.” You smiled at the comment, giddy that he paid attention enough to know which of his foods were your favorite.

“Well, I like all your food.”

The last bunch of kids filed in, and the last one seemed miserable. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was a kid in your class that messed with you frequently. You then noticed that he was littered with cuts and bruises. Immediately, you had an inkling of how this happened.

“Reese, did you do that?” He looked up at the kid, smirking at his handiwork.

“Gotta keep my girl happy.”

Francis

Thinks it’s love at first sight

Francis is such a delusional romantic tbh

If you meet him while he’s in military school, he’s always writing you poems and letters

Half of his calls home are for you because he just wants to know how you’re doing

If you work at the ranch with him, he’ll pick up the work on your chores if you have something to do

Even if you don’t need any help, he’ll accompany you just because he loves spending time with you

You know those tiktoks that are like “when you and your friend work together, so everything’s a two-person job now”?

That’s him with EVERYTHING

Even if you’ve been together for years, he still tries to impress you with extravagant presents or ideas

You tell him you don’t need/want much, just him, but he thinks you deserve the very best

“Francis, I can do it myself.” You jokingly rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, who set out plates and cutlery for the breakfast buffet. “It’s the easiest job of my day.”

“I just wanna make it easier, baby.” Francis kissed you before straightening the table clothes in the dining hall and on the patio.

“Well, thank you.” You smiled before moving to restock the napkin dispenser. Francis raced to your side, opening the dispenser for you. “Thanks again.”

“No problem. So, I was looking at our schedules, and I noticed we should be done with work at the same time.”

“Oh, yeah?” He nodded, closing the dispenser and positioning it right on the table. “What do you have planned?”

“Not much.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but if you knew your boyfriend well, you knew at least three different activities were reserved for you two now. “Just a couple’s horse ride, massage, and then I asked Otto to make sure that one of the jacuzzis would be off limits. Just for us.”

“Oh, that sounds so nice, honey.” He cupped your cheeks, kissing you deeply, and you were thankful that the guests were either still asleep or doing something else.

“Anything for my favorite girl.”

#malcolm wilkerson x reader #malcolm wilkerson #malcolm wilkerson headcanons #reese wilkerson x reader smut #reese wilkerson #reese wilkerson headcanons #francis wilkerson x reader #francis wilkerson #francis wilkerson headcanons #malcolm in the middle #malcolm in the middle x reader #agaypanic

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animusicnerd · 2 years

Text

Dorm Leaders and their Love Languages

☾ Genre: Fluff ☾ Warnings: Mentions of mortality, slight spoilers but nothing explicitly mentioned

☾ Pairing(s): Dorm Leaders x GN!Reader (separate)

☾ Notes: Soft Azul and Vil make me soft and I love them a lot. Also, please tell me if it does seem gender neutral.

☾ Twisted Wonderland and it’s characters do not belong to me ☽

Riddle Rosehearts - Gift-Giving & Quality Time

✦ As the dorm leader of Heartslabyul, Riddle is busy with both his roommates and his own studies meaning that he won’t have a lot of alone time with you. Regardless, he will always make sure to give you little gifts throughout the day. They are mostly delivered by Riddle himself, but sometimes Ace or Deuce would pass you a rose with a note attached in their dorm leader’s handwriting.

✦ When you two do manage to spend time together, he’s giving you some of the strawberry tarts that Trey made. He would also help you with any classes you’re having trouble with and usually, there’s some type of treat at the end to motivate you to get through it.

✦ There are also a lot of invitations to tea parties and unbirthday parties for you and you always have a seat next to Riddle, chatting with him about whatever pops up in your mind, happy that you could spend this time with him.

✦ “Ah, I finally found you. We’re having another unbirthday party this weekend, so please come. I’ve made sure that Trey has prepared your favorites.”

Leona Kingscholar - Quality Time & Physical Touch

✦ As a lion beastman, he mostly likes to spend time with you cuddling. Sometimes nuzzling into you or even just keeping an arm around you at all times. There are a lot of sleepy cuddles involved with him either sleeping on your chest or the other way around. He doesn’t really care as long as he has you in his arms. You end up skipping some classes with him because he doesn’t want to give up his pillow yet.

✦ On the rare occasion, he isn’t sleeping the day away, Leona would just give you head pats as he passes by. It’s very random so sometimes during lunch, you could be eating, and then suddenly, you feel a soft pat on your head. Your idiot trio has gotten very used to it but still finds it weird to see Leona show you some semblance of affection.

✦ However, an arm around your shoulders or waist and maybe the occasional kiss on his cheek, is how far he’s willing to go with PDA. He still has a reputation to uphold as the strongest in Savanaclaw and he doesn’t want to be seen as a softy. In private, smother him all you want as long as it doesn’t bother his nap time.

✦ “Gimme five more minutes, then I’ll get up.”

Azul Ashengrotto - Gift-Giving & Quality Time

✦ Another busy dorm leader who’s juggling his dorm leader duties and his studies but on top of that, he has his contracts and Mostro Lounge to manage. Whenever things get too busy, he calls you into his office just to have you there and even makes some room on his desk for you to do your schoolwork while he does his own thing. Either that, or he’ll call you to his dorm or ask if he can come over just so he could recharge his daily need for your affection.

✦ If you have a bad day, he would ask if he could come over and distract you from your problems for a bit before talking about them. He tries his best to understand what you're talking about and offers a lot of hugs and sometimes food from the Lounge he cooked to brighten your day. Basically, he’ll make time for you and attempt to cheer you up with cuddles and food because that was how his mother cheered him up as a young boy.

✦ Whenever he’s away from you to restock supplies or to go to a meeting, he always gets something from the shops that he thinks that you would like. Some places probably have those collectible coins so he would purchase some for you and him and now you have a coin collection similar to his. One time, when he went back to the Coral Sea for a bit, he came back with a nautilus shell necklace that his mother gifted to him saying to give it to a special someone. That special someone was obviously you so when he got back from his trip, the first thing that he did was give you said necklace.

✦ “My mother told me to give this to someone very special to me and I believe she meant for me to give this to you.”

Kalim Al-Asim - Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation, & Gift-Giving

✦ Kalim wears his heart on his sleeve so, from the moment you’re dating, he is singing praises about you in every way possible. Out of all of the dorm leaders, I believe that he is the one that is most comfortable with PDA. He would shower you with kisses and hugs whenever he spots you in the halls and gives Jamil a heart attack whenever he suddenly runs away like that. But if you ask him to tone it down, he will but just a little bit.

✦ Along with the constant bombardment of affection you get from him, Kalim would also shower you with gifts as much as possible. It ranges from tiny trinkets to the most expensive jewelry that you have ever seen and you might need to rent out a storage unit to fit all of the stuff he gets you.

✦ He just wants you to know that he loves you very much and is very grateful that you allowed him to be your lover. He was likely showered with this type of affection as a kid too, so it wouldn’t be surprising that it translated to his relationships that it was this way to show love to somebody.

✦ “Found you! I was looking for you everywhere to give you this bracelet. Would you like me to help you put it on?”

Vil Schoenheit - Quality Time, Acts of Service, & Physical Touch

✦ Another busy dorm leader who’s working on top of being a good student and a mentor to someone else. He has a decent amount of modeling gigs throughout the year and while he mostly took a break from acting, there are some small roles that he does take. Sometimes, he would end up taking you or checking up on you every hour or so to check if you were okay. Whenever you’re having a bad day, he would stay in with you to help cheer you up, and yes, he would help you with your skin-care routine and other self-care necessities.

✦ As cold as Vil seems, he is actually a very affectionate or caring person from what I have seen so far. I won’t get into it too much because it relates to the latest chapter but he does give Epel, Rook, and Yuu kisses and hugs for helping him out when he was “speaking as Vil.” So I suspect that Vil wouldn’t mind it if his lover showered him with affection or the other way around. Maybe in public, he would be more lowkey about it with an arm around your waist or a quick peck on the cheek, but in private, I don’t think he would mind it all that much.

✦ Overall, Vil does shower you with affection in his own ways despite his busy schedule. He makes time for you as much as his schedule would allow and do little things for you when you’re together, and I fully believe that he is physically affectionate as long as it’s kept to a minimum in public, but in private, it’s the opposite.

✦ “I know I’m not around much, darling, but please take care of yourself a little more. I get worried too, you know.”

Idia Shroud - Quality Time

✦ This man is a shut-in so when he allows you into his little bubble, it’s a big deal to him. Regarding his past, he was mostly either by himself or with Ortho. He’s still iffy with physical affection, isn’t good with words, does not go out enough to get you some things, and while he would try to do his best to do things for you, his anxiety gets the better of him.

✦ Quality Time where he is able to spend time with you alone in his room is the best way for him to show his affection towards you. There are a lot of anime and gaming marathons where both of you would just hangout until the early hours before inevitably falling asleep and starting the cycle again a few hours later. Sometimes, he would come over but it was mostly for anime marathons and eventually does start coming over more just to spend time with you.

✦ Over time, Idia will get used to physical affection but in small amounts like pinky holding and stuff like that. Eventually he’d want you to sit in his lap while playing games or vice-versa and if you manage to crash while he’s gaming, he would try to keep quiet for the next few hours to avoid waking you up. A lot of impromptu sleepovers happen this way but neither of you are complaining.

✦ “Do you mind coming over today? A new multiplayer game just dropped and I need my player two to play with me.”

Malles Draconia - Gift-Giving & Quality Time

✦ It doesn’t matter if you’re a faery like him or a mortal, he is giving you gifts. A lot of them too. Another one who buys you things from small trinkets to the most expensive jewels you have ever seen in your life. It could be matching t-shirts that he found amusing or the rarest jewel in his possession, nothing is out of bounds to give to you. You might want to ask him to slow down with the gifts because, in the beginning, he’ll try to make it obvious that he is courting you and he was taught that gifts were the best way to show your intentions.

✦ Now as fae or mortal, he would spend quality time with you. However, things hit a little bit harder if you are a mortal. Malleus is all too aware of the limited time he would have with you and would either find a way to extend your life as much as possible or cherish the time he has now. This includes going on late-night walks to look at the gargoyles around campus or running away from some of his retainers to be alone. It’s a very chaotic scene that you sometimes have gotten in trouble for by patrolling staff but when you don’t have to do that, then it’s actually a very relaxing night.

✦ When Malleus falls, I believe that he’s one of those people that falls hard and would do anything in his power to make you happy. He finally has someone who isn’t afraid of him and is willing to hang out with him because they want to, not because they are obligated to—though it’s obvious that the rest of Diasomnia doesn’t mind hanging out with him regardless of his status. He would give you a lot of expensive and shiny things to show his love for you and would spend time getting to know you just because he just wants to.

✦ “I sense that Sebek is in the distance watching us. Hold on to my arm, dear. I’ll make sure we won’t get caught.”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twst

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