#it still took me a long time to draw though 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sarahghetti · 3 months

Text

moving day; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: how marc and steven learn to live together, how you come to live with them, and how jake finally lets himself live at all.

warnings: basically a BIG character study into our boys, fluff, hurt and comfort, angst, insecurity, mentions of marc's childhood, mentions of violence, suggestive content but nothing explicit.

word count: 9.9k

notes: this one got away from me and might also be the best thing I've ever written (i'm very proud of it 😭). part of the @MOONKNIGHT-EVENTS bingo! prompt: “'is that my shirt?'”

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

Even though it was (and still is) under Marc’s name, the flat was Steven’s first. Marc just helped set it up a little.

He rented out the first decent unit he found in the city and kept every piece of mismatched furniture the previous tenant left behind. The essentials had to be filled in himself—a bed, couch, and desk. A table to go with that rickety stool to eat meals on, a coat rack near the doorway. The only belongings of his own that Marc left behind were his old Egyptology texts, unceremoniously shoved into a corner of one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that he hoped Steven would like.

(The fish was unexpected, though. Steven already had everything he would need, and it was Marc’s mistake to be scrolling through Facebook Marketplace on one of his last days before he handed it all over to his alter. A complete aquarium set was being offered for next to nothing; attached: a photo of the original poster’s late goldfish. Backlit from the tank light, blank faced and innocent.

He just couldn’t move on.)

But it was Steven who then took Marc’s—their—card and ran with it. Every free surface was prime real estate for another journal, another tomb. The used bookstores of London never stood a chance; it was almost impressive to watch him scour the shelves for the most esoteric topics and still come out with his arms full of what he was looking for. Marc would wake up in the body to find Steven’s collection a little bigger than before and ghost his fingers over the spines during those brief moments of respite before having to put on the suit.

It didn’t stop at the books. Of course, it didn’t. Steven’s always had an affinity for oddities. Marc wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the new paper lantern hung over the living room, or the pumpkin-esque footstool that was coloured as though it was plucked off the vine just a tad too early.

The pieces were quaint at best. If there were any psychological meaning as to why his alter gravitated towards dingy, threadbare upholstery instead of an IKEA like a normal person, it was beyond Marc.

However, he couldn’t not admit that it all kind of worked once put together; the clashing mix of materials and colours sort of became its own style when combined under the wooden rafters. Even when the books started overfilling the storage capacity and ended up in piles on the floor—it only added to the charm.

Marc was sure to erase every trace of his presence around the flat to avoid interfering with Steven’s life, but that didn’t stop the sense of longing to return to their—Steven’s—home during missions.

It was still a mess. A mess where everything has its place, yes, but there was no way that Steven could trip over several odds-and-ends in one day and claim that he was any degree of neat or tidy. Marc silently griped to himself about it all the time, but he’d sooner eat that dusty-ass rug Steven got for free before he saw anything get thrown away.

(It was like this back when they were kids, too. Marc’s childhood bedroom in Chicago—a room he never finds himself thinking about outside of his nightmares—was filled with joy. Medals from peewee baseball. Posters from his favourite movies, carefully smoothened out and taped to the walls by his dad. Drawings by him and Randall piled at the corner of his desk.

Right after the—the accident, all his stuff remained, immortalized in place. As if keeping everything the same would somehow also make Marc’s life the same as it was before, and Randall would come bursting through his door at any moment to ask him to come play. It was an overarching belief in their household. Even on her worst days, his mother’s anger never touched their home. Only him.

But then things began to change. His old action figures, collecting dust, would be strewn about the floor, waiting for someone to continue the battle. A collection of particularly smooth rocks began appearing on his windowsill despite the fact that he hadn’t gone outside in days. He’d wake up to grass-stained jeans and a scraped knee which Marc didn’t know how he got, for once.

Steven has always been like a crow, bringing all these little gifts for Marc to enjoy—these signs of life—even when he wasn’t aware of it.)

Coming back from Cairo feels like it should’ve been a bigger deal than it was, but after the dust settled on Harrow and Layla decided to return stateside alone—a decision that seemed a long time coming, if Steven’s being honest—there was nothing else to do other than to go home.

They have one blissful, uninterrupted day of sleep. Steven was the one to wake up sixteen hours later, mouth dry, and instinctively panicked at the thought of losing days again before realizing that Marc was also (and still is) out cold.

When he finally woke up a few hours later, half-asleep even in the reflection of the mirror, Steven couldn’t help himself from asking, “What now, Marc?”

Because Marc was the original. Marc was the one with a real life and legal status. He might never want to walk the streets of Chicago again, but that didn’t change the fact that he only came overseas to run away. Everything around them was a temporary measure.

Marc straightens. “I won’t bother you too much, I promise.”

“You still have your own life,” Steven reminds him.

“Still—”

“Oh, don’t start—”

At least they agreed on one thing: they were going to stay in London.

Marc cleans out his storage unit, bringing home an array of bins and duffel bags and that shitty fold-up cot that he still refuses to toss. Steven immediately got him his own dresser when Marc tried to insist that he ‘didn’t have much’; that was a blaring warning that he was about to do something stupid and sacrificial, and Steven had to put his foot down before a nearby charity got a donation of some well-loved button-downs.

It’s almost funny, how predicable Marc was when unpacking. Steven watched as he pushed all their new furniture against the walls then methodically unpacked bin by bin, stacking the empties inside one another like Russian dolls. Like Steven, everything he owned had a place, even after months spent stored away. Marc was just a lot more neat about it.

“Move my stuff if you want,” Steven pipes up. Marc doesn’t react, only continuing to store his notebooks on top of a filing cabinet. “Really, I’ve already read everything on that middle shelf there—we can put them somewhere else.”

Marc glances around the bookshelves. “Aren’t these alphabetized?”

“Well, mostly, but give me an hour or two and I’ll free up some space.”

It’s like a puzzle, and Steven’s always liked puzzles. Marc’s gone quiet in their head, out of excuses as to why he can just shove all his belongings out-of-sight so that Steven wouldn’t have to go through the effort. Now, if he would just believe Steven, then he’d know that reorganizing his books was hardly any effort at all.

And even if it was—he’s been meaning to do this for a while. An alphabetized collection is great until he gets a new book, because then everything has to be shifted over, and—well. There’s a reason why there were so many books languishing on the floor.

They pass off the body like that for the rest of the day, moving things around in the flat in order to accommodate Marc. It looks no less hectic in the end, despite Marc’s best efforts to tidy up a little, but it also doesn’t look any worse, which Steven sees as a win.

There are still so many things they need to talk about. Scheduling, routines, the fact that they’re currently both out of a job—either one would be lying if they said that this new life didn’t make them a bit nervous. But when Marc finally flops down onto their bed, a movement as easy as breathing, the pieces begin to settle into place. The last of his bins have been put away. His jacket hangs beside Steven’s as if it’s always been there.

In the headspace, Steven beams. Whatever comes, however hard—they’ll face it together.

Somehow, Steven wakes up one day and feels great.

There are a few minutes more until his alarm goes off, but he turns it off early. The usual grogginess that accompanies him this early is completely absent, and he rolls up to a seated position without a single mental or physical protest. He feels so good, in fact, that he even considers skipping his morning cup of tea.

(He doesn’t, of course. They quickly figured out—well, Steven did, Marc already knew—that they differed in their caffeinated beverages of choice. Steven, a strong cup of Yorkshire Gold with a healthy splash of milk and a teaspoon or two of sugar. Marc, a simple drip coffee, black, made from the most generic-looking brand of medium roast beans.

Not to say that he wishes to be separate from Marc or anything of the sort, but Steven imagines his feelings to be like that of a sibling who was always dressed in matching clothes as his brother. Marc might’ve graced Steven with an interest in Egyptology from his mercenary work and Gus from his—their?—brother’s drawing a lifetime ago, but as far as they know, his preference for tea was just a quirk.

Steven likes having something just for him.)

Marc had the body last night—he must’ve gone to bed early. Must’ve drank camomile tea and avoided blue light the entire time he was fronting because Steven could run a marathon like this and still go into work afterwards. He’s about to ask Marc for his secret when he spots an unfamiliar rumple of fabric on the pillow where he laid his head.

“What’s this now?” Steven murmurs, gathering the soft material in his hands. A woman’s sweater, obviously, with its feminine cut and style and faintly sweet scent that short-circuits his brain for a moment.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize how it got inside their flat, what with how there’s a whole other person living in his head, and it would explain the strange marks he found on his neck the other day—

Heat blooms in his face and Steven nearly drops the sweater back onto the pillow in embarrassment. Distantly, he knows that he should’ve seen this coming. Marc is Marc; Steven’s witnessed the quiet confidence the man extrudes from inside their headspace and the resulting, ah, attention it attracts.

In the corner of his eye, his reflection stills. Steven doesn’t even bother turning around—just holds up the offending sweater and asks, “Fun night?”

Marc, strangely, is quiet. It’s not like he’s one to talk about his romantic pursuits, but Steven at least expected a dry comment or two. He shakes the sweater like a bag of treats until Marc scowls. “Stop that.”

“Not judging,” Steven says, “but don’t suppose you got a number? Should I make a run to the donation bin for you?”

“No.” There’s an edge to Marc’s voice, and he purses his lips when he realizes that he responded a little too fast; Steven’s questioning look is pointedly ignored. “Just leave it on my desk for now.”

“Is she coming back or is this just like a—” Steven makes an ambiguous gesture, full of innuendo “—thing for you?”

“What? No—what?”

“Okay, okay,” Steven finally lets up because the groove between his alter’s eyebrows has become something fierce. He slips out of bed to place the sweater on Marc’s desk as requested, then throws one more comment over his shoulder for good measure, “Bring her home for dinner one day, would you?”

“Steven!”

“Is that my shirt?” You move towards the armchair, a smile tugging at your lips as you pick up the folded garment. It’s been freshly laundered. Marc wouldn’t burden you if he could help it.

“Mhm.” He doesn’t stir from his seat on the couch, tracking your movements with fondness in his eyes. You’ve been to their place plenty over the past few months and quietly, he relishes in the domesticity.

They’re simple things, like knowing your preferred spoon in their drawer or how you like your toast; the ease in which you curl into the cushions next to him—your spot, he can’t help but note—draws a contented little sigh from him.

“You know, if you want me to do your laundry, you can just ask.”

He would. Steven would prod endlessly as he does with all things related to you, but Marc’s managed to get this far with vague explanations and stubborn hand-waving. He’d endure the nosiness if it were for you.

“Although,” he continues, giving you a once-over. His eyebrow quirks at the familiar cotton long-sleeve enveloping your torso. “I’m not even sure you have laundry anymore.”

“Well, maybe if your clothes weren’t so comfortable, I’d stop stealing them,” you tease.

(His clothes aren’t boring, Steven, just—utilitarian. Between Khonshu and his mercenary work, Marc needed plain, flexible pieces; ones that made him blend in anywhere and ready for anything. Nothing that he could get too attached too, either. Everything he wore was at risk of getting ruined by grime and/or blood and/or tearing from various weapons. Of course, he doesn’t own anything ‘nice.’

Not like Steven. Not with his hodgepodge closet filled with colours and patterns, everything just a tad too large on their frame. Marc groans about it every time he takes over in the middle of the day—just a size down, just one. But the issue is that Steven likes it like that, likes the comfort and roominess he finds in his thrifted pieces, and so Marc dropped it as a serious topic, even though he still doesn’t quite get it.)

“This why you had to wear my jacket the other day?”

Steven’s sudden appearances don’t phase Marc anymore, even when you’re around. He just gives him a slight nod without missing a beat. “At this rate, I won’t have any clothes left for you to take.”

“Guess I’ll just have to borrow something from Steven then, hm?”

Before Marc can even begin to think about what to say to that— “I think my white jumper would suit her really well.”

He shoots a glare into a nearby mirror and just barely catches a glimpse of Steven’s grin in the reflection. Part of him wants to tell Steven to stop hitting on his girlfriend, but hesitates when you look at him expectantly, still waiting for his response.

He’s not ashamed of Steven, far from it. Still, a sliver of self-consciousness worms its way into his chest at the thought of talking to him in front of you. He’s done it before, but—he knows how it can look.

You’re more perceptive than he’d like. Marc sees the moment when it clicks in your head. “Is he here right now?”

Excitement bleeds into your voice. You’ve been wanting to meet Steven for a while. Marc showing up to a date with tousled curls and a colourfully-printed button-up instead of his usual streamlined style, a slew of scribbled papers piled onto the armchair you like to lounge on, a sticky note left on one of your books (‘oooh good choice! x’)—all these things that sent panic strumming through his veins were only ever endearing to you, for some reason. It’s lessened his worry by orders of magnitude.

Still. Letting you meet Steven is one step closer to talking about his childhood. His mom. His brother. He’s given you a high- high-level view of things (“It wasn’t great.”), but the thought of going any further makes his throat tighten. There’s a whole failed marriage that proves his inability to be vulnerable.

So, it must truly be a bout of madness that makes him say, “The white one.”

“What?”

“The white sweater,” Marc continues, because he’s already thrown himself off the bridge—there’s no use trying to backtrack now. “He says you’d look good in his white sweater.”

Your face slowly morphs into an expression of pure joy; you do nothing short of jump off the couch to bolt to their bedroom. Steven chatters excitedly in his ear, only pausing momentarily when you slip off Marc’s shirt.

“Oh! Um! She’s—she’s very—wow—" Marc feels the strangest urge to punch himself in the face again—

—And then you reappear into their field of view, a dream in fine knit. Steven’s sweater be damned, your beaming smile is more than enough to render them both speechless.

“How do I look?”

The sweater isn’t his, but it stirs the same syrupy feelings in Marc anyway. You’ve spoken about it before—and him privately with Steven—where Steven stands in your relationship with Marc. All he’s ever let himself hope for was for you and Steven to be cordial, maybe even friends. Of course, he’d have to actually let you guys speak to each other for any of that to be possible, but you two seem to have grown comfortable with each other regardless.

Now, he sees you in Steven’s clothes and his thoughts run rampant. Ours. He tests out the word and his heart skips a beat. It’s always been a possibility; one you all were open to if it ever happened. But he could never ask either of you to try to love each other on his behalf.

God, that word does something stupid to his brain—Steven’s rattling off compliments and other things of his you should try on and invites to go thrifting—and Marc just sits there, dumbfounded by his own hypothetical scenario. “Come on, Marc, say something!”

You move to stand in front of him, and his thighs part automatically to have you close. It takes your hand on his cheek, gentle as you stroke your thumb over his skin, to pull him back to reality. “You okay?”

“You look incredible.” His voice dips in the way he knowsmakes your stomach swoop, and is promptly rewarded with your flustered smile. The moment doesn’t last—not with Steven cooing in his ear over you.

A pang of possessiveness runs through Marc. That smile was for him, thank you very much.

His mouth works faster than his brain. “Steven has something to tell you.”

You light up. “Really?”

“Wants to tell you himself, actually.”

Steven splutters, nerves coming on in full force. Marc bites his tongue to keep a straight face. “Well, now, hang on a minute—”

Steven’s introduction was always going to be a well-thought-out but casual event, as to not make a circus out of it. It was just who they were, after all. They wouldn’t switch in front of you—Steven would change into his wardrobe and ‘do’ his hair beforehand; Marc worried it might be too much for you to see him but hear Steven. He would’ve prepped you both plenty in the preceding days, regardless of how necessary it was.

It definitely would not be the stunt he’s pulling right now.

Your eyes narrow at the placid look on his face, too casual to not be suspicious, but meeting Steven must outweigh the want to catch Marc in the act of whatever he’s planning because you don’t call him out, hands frozen on his face. It’s cute, watching you struggle between overt enthusiasm and not wanting to pressure them into anything.

Marc would even enjoy it a little longer if it weren’t for the confused and alarmed word vomit spilling out in his head.

“Stop messing about—I mean, it’s not—not odd, yeah? For me to front a little? Just a little chat, can’t be all that bad. Please be messing with me, but I can do it, s’not a big deal. Yeah, yeah, it’s whatever—oh, boy."

Taking pity on the poor guy, Marc quiets him with a steady glance into the mirror. “You sure, buddy?”

Slightly shrill but no less serious, “Are you sure, Marc?”

And then Marc’s fun little charade teeters on its head—is he ready for this? You and Steven wouldn’t hold it against him if he pulled the plug on it all right now, but this is the closest he’s ever gotten. The band-aid has to come off, lest he lets this fester for the length of another relationship.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his flare of panic comforted by the patience in your eyes. More confidently this time, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Steven’s smile is clear in his voice. It mirrors your own.

“About time, innit?”

Moving into their flat isn’t a decision you make all at once, but rather a slow, steady conclusion that you’ve been unintentionally working towards ever since you first visited.

The clothes were just the start. It’s not like you didn’t have perfectly good clothes before you met Marc, but his were just better somehow. Soft and simple, all in that neutral colour scheme he seemed to gravitate towards. The warm, woodsy scent of his aftershave clings to the fabric, making you want to bury your nose into the garments and go right back to the source—

You just couldn’t help yourself from borrowing something whenever you came over.

(That pleased, half-lidded gaze you receive each time you slip on his shirt, or his heated touch whenever he drapes his jacket over your shoulders during chilly morning afters—well. Those are just a bonus.)

So, maybe you left a shirt or two behind in the process. And maybe you realized that you should probably have a pair of sweatpants there as well, and a good book to read during quiet nights in. Once, you forgot your toothbrush only for Marc to pull out an extra from their medicine cabinet; now you have a toothbrush in their bathroom.

After you finally met Steven and his adorable, eclectic self—all bets were off. You bond while scouring vintage shops and finding new pieces for the flat. A little basket of throw blankets gets added to the living room (always neatly sorted by Marc, without fail). Candles—tall and stout, festive and fruity and spiced—start to litter the shelves. A particularly good haul at a used bookstore, a bit heavy for you to carry home, is instead slotted amongst their collection; the contemporary fonts and colourful covers are a stark contrast against the yellowing older texts, and you love it.

Your fingerprints are all over the place by the time Marc officially empties some space in his dresser for you, uncharacteristically avoiding your eyes as he speaks, “Just in case you wanted to keep some more stuff here.”

You were already using their closets before then (in both the storing-your-clothes sense and the stealing-their-clothes sense); you’ve practically taken over one of his drawers. But to give you one outright, to admit that he’s carved out some space just for you instead of silently accommodating your things as he always has—

“Thank you, Marc,” you whisper, brimming with emotion that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to fully express. He’ll flit about and clean and care for you because words will never capture the depth of his feelings. You see this for what it is, like all the gestures that have come before: a declaration.

“Thank you,” you repeat, and press a soft kiss onto the corner of his mouth. “I love you, too.”

It’s not much long after when Steven comes home from work grinning like a madman, one hand held behind his back. He beelines towards you, not even bothering to put his bag down.

“Hey, you.” You peck his lips and feel his smile stretch impossibly wider. “What’s got you all riled up?”

The words come out in a rush. “Havesomethingforyou.”

“Oh?”

“Close your eyes.” You can’t help but laugh a little as you follow the direction; Steven’s excitement is utterly infectious. “Okay, now hold out your hand.”

“If you give me a bug, I swear to God—”

“I would never.” His seriousness is a bit too heavy-handed, and you get a feeling you’re going to need to be on guard for a while.

You’re distracted, however, by the brush of his skin as he places something small and rigid into your palm. The metal is warm from being clasped inside his hand, but the shape is so familiar that you recognize what it is immediately.

“You can open—”

You’re already looking down—at the silver key to the flat nestled in your hand. Lonesome without the Koala plushie on Steven’s keyring, without the little charm you got for Marc’s—no, it’s meant to be your copy.

“We were thinking, right,” he starts before your heart has the opportunity to beat right out your chest, “Marc and I—well, you’re here with us most of the time. You should have your own key. Beats having to come grab mine from the museum, right?”

You let out a choked little laugh, too caught up to remind him that the only reason why you went to the museum was because else he would’ve dropped everything to deliver the keys himself. Spent his entire break and then some to commute back home so that you wouldn’t have to wait for his shift to be over, even though you could’ve amused yourself just fine outside until then.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to get out before stepping forward, burying your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso. Steven’s love is unbridled; he holds you close, going on about how glad he is—how glad they both are—to have you, how he was practically bouncing off the walls at the locksmith, waiting for the key to be cut.

They’ve been your home for so long now that while the new addition onto your keyring makes you giddy and smile stupidly whenever you get to use it, it also just feels right. You go grocery shopping with Marc and watch him scrutinize apples like they personally offended him. Steven tangles your legs together as you wind down in the evenings, and always always smiles whenever he catches you looking at him. You rank the restaurants around the neighbourhood and line your favourite mugs beside each other on the shelf; you sit in the comforting quiet of the flat and wonder how you got so lucky.

When it’s eventually time to renew your lease, there’s no decision to be made. You’re relieved from dinner prep to write the email to your landlord on their couch. It’s sent off with no fanfare and quickly forgotten about when Marc’s voice rings out, asking what you want to eat.

“Anything,” you say, the ghost of a smile on your lips; he hates it when you say that. Marc grumbles a little, but you mean it this time. You have them and they have you. Curled up in one of Steven’s sweaters, Marc’s playlist on low in the background—anything is just fine by you.

You are the bane of Jake’s existence.

First, you meet Marc. Terrible. Khonshu is riding his ass about a mission in Liverpool—they’ve now been geolocked to stay under the radar—and Marc plans a date. An actual, Godforsaken date with a set time, throwing a wrench into their plans because Steven’s been scheduled to work on the surrounding days as well. How is he supposed to sneak off to the other side of the country now?

Even worse, you stick around. There are more dates between the two of you. For how much he hates texting, Marc responds promptly whenever you send him something. He frets over what to wear before picking you up. You stay over at the flat and he holds you in his sleep like he’s afraid you’ll disappear; Jake has been unluckily enough to wake up in the middle of the night, planning to slip away, only to be hit with the scent of your shampoo in his nose.

Then—and then—Marc has the bright idea to introduce you to Steven. The hope that this is just a casual, temporary thing is dashed away the second Jake sees that lovesick expression on the idiota. It’s more overt than Marc’s, but still the same blaring warning sign that Jake’s life is only about to get harder from here.

Keeping a low profile has become incredibly difficult since the others decided to be normal. Marc never questioned whenever Jake took over in a tight spot, too hyped up on adrenaline and too stubborn about their condition to follow up on his blackouts after the fight was done. Steven was clueless about everything for those first few months, then just blamed his blackouts on Marc.

But now? They talk to each other. They have a year-long calendar on the fridge with a magnetic pen holder to keep track of their schedules, colour-coded blue (for Marc) and green (for Steven). They’ve gotten distracted and added another consciousness for Jake to deceive in order to do his thing. He can’t take the body for more than a few hours, and certainly not by force, without drawing suspicion.

Jake’s happy for them. Really, he is. They’ve finally begun to move on from the trauma of their childhood into something that resembles a normal life. Steven’s gotten rehired at the museum as a tour guide. Marc’s taken up security consulting. And despite their respective anxiousness and ten-foot-walls, you bring them peace.

But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s Khonshu’s avatar now. That a lifetime ago, when the work began to wear down on Marc in all the worst ways, Jake was the one who cut a deal with the god for his release. All he had to do was take his place.

(Foresight might not be his strong suit, but he refuses to take responsibility for what happened next. He could never have imagined all the puppetry that’d occur with Layla in the mix, or that they’d actually divorce one of these days and end up with someone new.

Except this time, you know about their system and not about Khonshu. He wonders how well you’d take that whole mess.)

In short—Marc and Steven still need him. He can’t just up and disappear into the recesses of their mind; he has a job to do.

So, when Steven presses that fucking key into your hand, Jake’s so frustrated he could scream. Unfettered access to the flat—as if you weren’t there enough already. As if he weren’t already jumping through every hoop imaginable, just to keep his existence a secret. He would’ve made them drop the copy down the nearest gutter on the way home if he didn’t know that they would simply go right back to the locksmith and ask for another.

Steven watches as you slip it onto your keychain; that all-encompassing, vibrant burst of joy in their chest be damned—you are the worst thing to ever happen to Jake, even if you might be the best thing to ever happen to them.

Steven had the flat, Marc had his storage unit, and Jake?

Jake has his car.

Multiple, actually, but the limousine is the legal one (thanks for your identity, Marc) and serves as his homebase. Supplies are stashed in compartments around the cabin—weapons, clothes, cash—and with its heavily tinted windows, he can do anything he wants inside and passersby would be none the wiser. When Khonshu’s booming voice echoes around his brain about some new target, at least Jake can recline into a soft leather seat.

The only issue is that he can’t keep everything there. No, the parking garage is a fair distance away from the flat and sometimes, he doesn’t have the opportunity to make the trip before setting off. This means that he has to keep a change of clothes in the flat to avoid accidentally ruining some of Steven’s or Marc’s. He’d never actually wear anything of Steven’s to begin with (at least, not on a mission), but Marc’s wardrobe is minimal by choice—if something went missing or got a new, unexplained hole in it, he’d notice.

That’s why Jake is currently slinking through their living room, ready to change back into Steven’s pajamas before hiding his clothes on the loft above their bed. Nothing up there but empty bins and poster tubes. Marc regularly dusts the area during his monthly deep cleans, so Jake doesn’t even have to worry about leaving behind any tracks.

It was an easy job tonight, done in little less than an hour and not a speck on Jake to show for it. He could take a shower if he wanted—you’re staying over at a friend’s place right now, as noted in red on the calendar. But he shouldn’t keep the body for longer than necessary; they still need sleep, after all.

He slips off his flat cap, groaning as he runs a hand through his hair. God, they’re getting old. Even this stolen hour will be felt by whoever wakes up in the morning, slightly slower and groggier than usual.

(Jake doesn’t think about the future—has never needed to. The only future that exists to him is the next minute, and the minute after that, and what he has to do to ensure the body makes it there. Him and Marc were similar in that aspect for a long, long time.

That calendar on the fridge, while helpful to his vigilantism, stirs something uncomfortable in his gut. He’s seen them flip through the months to mark down birthdays and reservations. Vacations, work events—Marc’s going on a completely normal, non-violent work trip, which Jake still can’t quite wrap his head around—and it’s all so far ahead.

How can they be so sure that nothing will change between now and then? That their life won’t blow up again, and force them on the run? Everything they add is just another handful of salt to be pressed into the wound when it all goes to hell. But they still write things on that stupid calendar. Confident, excited even, about the plans they think will come to pass.

How do they know?)

There’s a rustling in the bedroom.

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—

“Marc?”

You shift a little under the covers, trying to peer at him through the darkness. Jake’s never been more grateful for Marc’s sensible taste in fashion; with only a silhouette to go by, of course you’d mistake him for Marc—straight-cut jeans, a collared jacket. His flat cap would tip you off though, and he presses it into his chest to hide it from your line of sight. Marc would never wear a flat cap.

He forces a casual tone. “Hm?”

A small sigh of relief escapes you as your head falls back onto the pillow. Still watching him, though, you mumble, “Bad dream?”

You know about Marc’s time in the military and as a mercenary. Not everything, obviously, but enough. Jake nods, and can imagine the worried purse of your lips in the shadows. In the best impression he can manage, his accent turns Chicagoan. “Just had to take a walk.”

If he were really Marc, he’d already be in bed by now, letting you brush curls away from his face and press a kiss against the furrow of his brow. If he were really Marc, he’d ask you why you were back here instead of with your friends as expected, and you’d talk things out until dozing off in a tangle of limbs, comforted by each other’s presence.

But Jake’s not Marc. He brushes off the subtle tightening of his chest as just a lingering remnant from his alters. The body knows you, even if Jake doesn’t. It doesn’t mean anything to him.

You whine, a sleepy and pitiful but inviting noise from the back of your throat as he continues to stand in the living room. Alarm bells go off in his head; he has to placate you before you get up and try to drag him over yourself.

“Just need to change,” he says, soft and low, warmth injected into every word. Nausea courses through him, to his own confusion, as he continues to play Marc. This should be easier—he’s been hiding for as long as he can remember. This is probably the tamest thing he’s done to keep his cover. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

He takes two steps towards the kitchen then stops, feigning—feigning something, fuck if he knows—waiting for your breathing to level out again. Silence falls over the flat, but Jake’s mouth runs dry.

There’s no way you don’t bring this up to them in the morning, and there’s no way they won’t immediately suspect another alter. They know he exists, have seen the aftermath of when he fronts. It’s only his secrecy that has kept them off his back for this long, and it will all come crashing down in a few hours.

For better or for worse, he’ll have to meet the others soon.

Marc will never tire of waking up beside you. Even though there’s a heaviness weighing him down, body aching for just a few more minutes, he pushes through because you’re already awake. With one hand on his chest, the other tracing over his jaw—the small, lazy smile on your face has already made his day.

You turned over while he was asleep, but his arm is still slung over your waist; he pulls you closer to press a kiss onto your forehead. Lips moving against your skin, “Morning, baby.”

“Morning,” you murmur. “Feel better?”

Mind hazy from sleep, Marc doesn’t question the odd wording. He just let’s himself settle into the lingering fatigue, leaning into your touch as his eyes flutter shut again. “M’tired. Stay with me a little longer?”

Concern laces your tone. “Was the dream that bad?”

That breaks through to him. He peers at you curiously, more alert than before. “What do you mean?”

You blink, confused. “Your nightmare last night. You left to take a walk?”

Marc sits up, furrowing his brow. Reality seeps in, and he checks the date on his phone. Aren’t you supposed to be—? “I thought you were staying over at a friend’s place.”

“I was going to, but she had a family emergency—I came back here around three. Don’t worry, they walked me home,” you explain with a soft pat of your hand at the end. That—that is one mystery solved, and he is glad to hear that you weren’t walking alone at night, but his shoulders remain taut with tension. His mind gets caught on a detail.

“Three?” He’s a light sleeper, he would’ve woken up when you came into bed. But—your words replay in his mind. He wasn’t here when that happened, was he? “I went on a walk?”

His stress begins to spill over to you, and you prop yourself up on an elbow, fiddling at the blankets. “Um, yeah. We spoke a little when you came back—I was already in bed, remember?”

A pit opens up in his stomach, and the words die in this throat. Marc does not, in fact, remember. He apparently went outside in the middle of the night, long enough for you to come home and settle in without him, then had a whole conversation upon return—and none of it is familiar to him. Not even a hint of déjà vu.

He throws off the covers, on his feet in seconds despite your protests. All hisblackouts, the ones he thought were finished after traversing the Duat—

That third sarcophagus—

Is this what it was like for Steven? To wake up, not knowing what your body has done, where it’s been—if it’s hurt someone?

Marc might actually puke if he thinks about it for too long. And God, you live with them now: him, Steven, and what Marc wishes was a complete unknown. But the truth is—they aren’t an unknown. No, Marc is fully aware of what this alter is capable of.

“Oh, bugger, what’s going on?” Steven must feel his panic, reflects it in kind. He must be expecting bloodshed with how fast their heart is racing.

Marc says nothing and flings open the tri-mirror on the wall, bracing himself with both hands on the sink below. He sees himself in the center, a bull primed to fight. Steven’s to the left, so fearful he’s nearly frozen still. And to the right—

To the right—

So. Jake hasn’t really prepared for this situation, to be honest.

He’ll face anything head-on to keep the body safe, but imagining himself as the threat? Never crossed his mind. There’s anger in their blood, and Marc’s liable to cracking the porcelain with his grip. If looks could kill, Jake would be dead ten times over.

The few times he wondered what it would be like to actually meet Marc and Steven, the worst that could happen was that they disliked him. Unfortunate, but he’d live. He didn’t need their approval to do his job.

But through the blood rushing in their ears, he can hear you; still in bed, barely breathing as you watch everything unfold. And that’s when he remembers—

You are the bane of his existence.

Because Marc and Steven aren’t just thinking about their own self-preservation. No, now they have you to protect, and the lengths that they would go to do that, well—Jake begrudgingly has to admit that they might rival some of his own efforts for them.

He’d let them stare at themselves forever in the mirror if it weren’t for that fact. They would never give up on trying to talk to him. Steven was clever enough with the sand and tape and ankle restraint; he doesn’t want to think about what sort of traps they’d create with Marc in the mix. Jake would probably still evade them all, but they’d drive themselves crazy in their attempts.

They’ve really left him no choice. For the first time, he lets himself be seen.

You’ve watched Marc and Steven talk to each other plenty of times. It’s really no big deal. They’re just normal conversations where you can only hear one side, and usually taken through the nearest reflective surface.

But this? This is an interrogation. Marc slackens his jaw for just a moment before everything in him tenses again. He speaks through clenched teeth, as if barely controlling the severity of his thoughts—you can’t help but brace yourself for impact. “Who are you?”

The pause as he waits for the other alter, whoever they are, to respond is maddening. It wasn’t quite fear that gripped you when you realized that it wasn’t Marc last night—to be honest, you don’t know what to feel—but the scene in front of you has you reevaluating your initial reaction.

That initial reaction being, well—the same thing you felt when you Marc told you about Steven: curiosity. You wanted to meet Steven. Almost begged for the chance near the end. Whoever this is—

“Jake.”

The name grates itself out of Marc’s throat, and you cling to the information like a life raft.

“Jake.” You can’t help but test it out on your tongue, squinting a little as you look at your boyfriend and try to see yourself calling him that. Marc looks towards you. There’s a storm of emotions in his eyes, but there’s no time to decipher any of them—a moment later, he turns back towards the mirror with a scowl.

“Why should I believe you?” The lines on his face deepen; Marc grits his teeth so hard you yearn to hold him, but you’re frozen to the spot.

“I don’t know that. After you—” his eyes dart between you and his reflection so fast, you might’ve imagined it “—after what you’ve done?”

A wave of dread washes over you.

He’s not talking about last night.

No, Marc—Marc has interacted with Jake before, and whatever happened must’ve crossed a line. Must’ve crossed several lines because of how he’s acting right now, and you want to bury yourself under the covers, still fisted tightly in your hands.

He laughs bitterly. The sound rakes through your ears. “You call that protecting us?”

Your blood runs cold. With no real context and spiked with adrenaline, your mind runs rampant with the possibilities, connects all the worst dots.

There’s no way—

“Lay a hand on her and I swear—”

You want to run and you want to hide and you want their arms around you, assuring you of—of anything. You need to leave this building and also never go outside again, because your head begins to pound with each thought that passes through.

You can still see the worry flare in Marc’s eyes when you accidentally grabbed the handle of a hot pan, the dutiful and tender way he held your hand under the tap for no less than fifteen minutes—

You can still hear Steven’s babbling when your new shoes rubbed your ankles red and raw while on a walk, distracting you from the pain the best he could until you got back home—

You are just so acutely aware of their love—that Marc and Steven would never dare hurt you. It’s impossible to reconcile your memories of them with the picture that’s being painted of Jake right now.

No. You can’t believe it.

You’re not even hearing their conversation anymore, your heartbeat is too loud. Breathing returns to you in a rush—you never even realized you stopped—and your vision swims with light-headedness.

None of it makes sense.

It—it can’t—

The mattress dips beside you, but you barely feel it. Someone’s cupping your cheeks, grounding you back into the flat, your home, and you know these hands. You know this voice, soothing in your ear, even as you shut your eyes.

They say that they’re sorry. They say that you’ll be okay.

They call you princesa.

It feels strange walking around the flat, knowing that he’s welcome there now.

Jake’s seen every nook and cranny through Marc and Steven, but to actually be able to explore the place himself—he’s like a kid in a toy store. He can’t help but run his fingers over everything. The spines on the bookshelves, the mismatched dishware in the cabinets. That velvet throw pillow, which you are so fond of playing with during movies—yeah, he gets it.

He’s not going to be talking to you for a while, though. After his rocky first meeting with Marc and Steven, which also coincides with the absolute worst possible first meeting with you—

It’s best to steer clear for a while.

Jake let the other two do the explaining. He watched silently as Marc told you about his past—told you about why he was discharged from the Marines and the scenes he’d wake up to after Jake had fronted—hands shaking as they held onto yours. He watched as Steven took over when it got to be too much, adding in the finer details and clarifications, steadier but no less genuine than Marc. Their arms were gentle as Steven held you in their lap, patient as you stumbled through how you felt.

“Marc seemed so mad at Jake.” You clutched at Steven’s shirt, sniffling into his neck. “I didn’t know what was happening, I—I was scared.”

No. Jake furiously shakes his head as if it would jostle the memory out of his brain. Just thinking about it threatens to unravel him, and he has to keep it together. He’s on thin ice as is.

You had been the one to temper their emotions—the sight of you panicking on their bed grinding all other issues to a halt. The conversation couldn’t continue until you were okay, and this time, Steven kept you in the loop.

Steven is wary. Steven needles him about what he’s been doing all this time, asks him what he’s going to do now with short little mhms. Steven is also the one to buy a new set of pens (because black is already used for non-individual specific events) and designates him as orange.

Marc doesn’t trust Jake at all and admits it outright. It’s—it stings more than he thought it would, but he understands. He always knew that Marc would take a while to come around, especially with you to consider—

Jake doesn’t know why he worries so much about your opinion. Protecting you is an extension of protecting the body, but he never used to care about what Marc or Steven had to say. He hates the caution in your voice when you talk about him and can’t help but appreciate you trying anyways.

He pinches himself. You’re not his to think about, period.

Acknowledging his existence also, sort of, comes with accepting it. Steven somehow finds the space for another dresser in their already cramped bedroom. Jake doesn’t even have enough possessions in general to fill that thing—not counting all the weapons and ammo that Marc would definitely have their head for if he brought them into the flat.

It’s an olive branch on both sides, though. They’re committing to having him around. He’s committing to being around, instead of lurking in the background of their lives.

His clothes only fill up the first drawer but—it’s nice. Jake stares at the thing a lot more than a used, scratched-up piece of furniture probably warrants. He can barely admit it to himself but this, all of it—going outside during the day, eating a freshly-cooked meal, even just relaxing in bed without immediately trying to go to sleep in order to Protect the Body—it really is just nice.

(Since when did he describe anything as nice?)

Then—your keys turn in the door.

Jake hits the eject button so fast, Steven’s probably going to get whiplash.

“Nice reflexes,” he grumbles as you enter the flat. It was funny the first few dozen times. Now? That twat’s just being a coward.

“I’m home!” You call out as Steven rounds the corner to greet you, tote bag nearly bulging in your hand. He pecks your lips as he helps you out of your jacket, then hangs it up beside the three others on the rack. “There was a little creators’ market in the park—you should’ve seen it!”

“Think I’m seeing it now,” he chuckles, moving to help you with your tote. You slink past him at the last second, grinning. “Come on, love, show us what you got!”

“They’re gifts! Just hang on.” You place the bag on the dining table and enraptured, he pulls up a stool. His head rests on his chin as he waits for you to unpack. “Okay, first, for Marc—”

You reach your hand inside and reveal a pair of black leather gloves. Not driving gloves like Jake’s—there’re far less embellishments all around. But they’re warm and flexible, perfect for colder weather. Inside, the lining is made with a material so soft that when trying one on, Steven can’t help but laugh a little in disbelief.

“Treading on my territory, pendejo?”

Marc snipes back, “Like you own a monopoly on leather gloves.”

Steven lets Marc pull to the front. An easy smile spreads on his face as he flexes his hand, testing his movement. “Thanks, baby. I really like them.”

He takes your chin into his gloved hand to thank you properly, slotting his lips against yours with no shortage of appreciation. His grip is an anchor, holding you in place as he kisses you, deep and languid. Like you have all the time in the world despite the heat flickering across his skin. When Marc gets like this, it’s not long before you start squirming under him, and your hands paw at his neck for something more.

That’s his cue to finally pull away, smirking as he traces your bottom lip with his thumb. Whether it’s the leather or him or both, he can see the effect on you, the dazed look you give him when you bat your eyes open.

Let Jake try and beat that.

“Oi! Share!”

Marc sighs. Drops his forehead to yours and reluctantly doesn’t continue any further. “Steven wants his gift now.”

“Oh,” you laugh a little, realizing the situation you’ve put yourself in. “Maybe I should’ve done Steven’s first.”

Marc steals one more kiss before retreating again, and Steven is back, clearly eager for many different reasons now. After putting Marc’s new gloves to the side, you don’t make him wait a second longer; you pull out a stunning new button-up, deep navy with a pattern of large teal palm leaves and hints of salmon accents all over.

All traces of joy disappear from Marc’s voice. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“She’s an enabler. I can’t believe it.”

Steven gapes, amazed. “How did you—”

“I had to go digging,” you admit, gesturing widely. “There were so many racks, we need to go back! I only had my one bag!”

“There’s no way people actually buy this stuff.”

“Ahh, well, it’s not that bad—"

“Are you kidding me?”

Ignoring the fashion police in his head, Steven immediately switches shirts and tosses the old one somewhere behind him. Based on Marc’s grunt, he missed the couch, but also can hardly find himself to care.

He doesn’t even bother doing up the buttons, because he knows where you’ll put your hands when he descends upon your face. Kiss after kiss on your cheeks, forehead, and nose, and soon enough you’re giggling loudly into the air. Your hands are warm against his bare torso, pulling him closer even as their stubble tickles your skin.

“Stevie—Steven! There’s one more!”

He’s not letting you off that easily, though, and finally captures your lips with his. That does buy him a few more blissful seconds until you manage to push him away; breathing heavily, you point sternly in his direction—behave.

Steven schools his expression into one of perfect obedience, teasing, but you barely even react. With one glance back down at the table, it’s like the tote bag sucked away your excitement, leaving shy uncertainty in its wake. You’re biting your lip as you reach for the last gift, quiet.

Marc hums, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Steven offers you an encouraging little smile and is about to say something when you produce the last gift in a rush, still not meeting their eyes.

It’s a simple wool scarf, colour-blocked in soft browns and greys. He waits as you fiddle with it in your hands, trying to find the words.

“He doesn’t have a scarf,” you blurt out. When Steven doesn’t respond immediately, you continue. “Jake, I mean—I don’t think he has one. I thought it would be nice.”

He follows your gaze to the coat rack near the door, filled with four sets of outerwear. It clearly doesn’t fit all the jackets owned in the household, but his favourite is hung up next to Marc’s, which is hung up beside your overcoat and Jake’s collared jacket. Various cold weather accessories are layered onto the hooks as well, multiple pairs of gloves, hats—but there are only three scarves.

Come to think of it, Steven hasn’t seen Jake ever wear a scarf either. “You’re right, love. Doesn’t his neck get cold? I know our neck gets cold.”

The corners of your mouth tug up a little and he grins, triumphant. He tunes into his head, making sure he doesn’t miss any of Jake’s reaction, but nothing comes. That’s odd. It doesn’t feel like he’s gone, more like—holding his breath.

“Think he’ll like it?” You tilt your head, though your true question is clear on your face.

The words can’t come out of Jake fast enough. “I’m not here right now.”

“Jesus, man.”

Steven huffs but covers for his alter; they’ll press him about it another time. “Once he sees it, I don’t think he’ll ever take it off.”

The gloves and scarf are added to the coat rack, which is liable to falling over one of these days due to the heavy load it’s carrying. With no shortage of complaining from Marc, Steven picks up his discarded shirt and tosses it into the laundry basket. It’s almost full—he makes a note to do a load later this week.

He must look ridiculous, parading around in an undone button-up, but you have nothing but fondness for him when he returns to cuddle with you on the couch. You’ve changed into Marc’s sweater and have to move no less than five decorative pillows in order to make enough space.

Marc makes a distressed noise when Steven throws one of them to the side. “It’s fine—”

It hits the standing lamp and you both freeze as you watch it teeter on its base, creaking ominously. After a moment, it steadies again.

“It’s only fine because of your weak throw.”

Steven splutters as he pulls you into his side. “We have the same arm!”

They bicker about the mechanics of their body, whether muscle memory crosses over when they switch or not. Marc is squarely of the opinion: No. Steven reminds him of when he punched the Jackal, and the conversation continues to devolve. Jake refrains from getting involved but spurs them on regardless with a well-placed snicker here and there.

It’s an aimless argument that has you burying your face in your hands because you’re laughing too hard; one of many that have taken place and one of many that have yet to occur.

In the morning, Marc will cook you breakfast and throw an eggshell into the bin from across the kitchen just to prove a point. Steven will go back to the market with you to buy armfuls of his favourite clothing and home goods, and he’ll add one more to his bag for every snide comment Marc makes. And Jake—

Jake will take a little while longer until he feels ready to speak to you, but you see the scarf gather raindrops and the warm, woodsy smell of their aftershave as he wears it every time he goes outside. Always see it hung up neatly on the rack, on top of his jacket so it can properly dry.

And with all four of you settled in, their cluttered little flat in London—long overflowing with books and clothes, your favourite comforts and some truly unique furniture—finally started to feel complete.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #my writing #mk bingo 2024

803 notes · View notes

kalinysu · 5 months

Note

Muzan with wife reader who failed a mission and is trying to avoid him after he yelled at her? extra fluff pls

𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘. - Muzan x F!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None/Small angst. (?)

𝐍𝗼𝐭𝐞𝐬: LAST thing i’ll write Muzan for a while. 😭

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

You had been avoiding Muzan for days. At first, he didn’t take the time to realize as he had been far too busy with other things to pay your obvious distancing any mind. He also never thought of you being upset with him for something that he did so often. Yelling? He’s yelled at practically everyone.

But you, you were his wife. That was the first time he had yelled at you, and you thought that he would treat you differently because you were his wife. But he yelled and got really angry with you, just like every other demon. It hurt you, more than he realized. And the fact that the two of you hadn’t talked in days and he didn’t notice, or rather didn’t care that something was up hurt even more.

You had been cooped up in your room for a while, and nobody had ever checked up on you or anything at all, not even your own husband.

Not that you expected it, everyone had been busy with the demon slayers and such. But still, he was your husband, and he had to have even a little free time at some point. You were sulking in bed, losing track of time, until finally, someone had opened your door.

“Get up, do something productive, like finding me that flower.”

Your husbands deep voice rang out as he rummaged through your drawing and took something before leaving without another word. The fact that he was now telling you only to find the flower stung. He most likely thought you were incapable of doing anything else.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Days had gone by now, you had nothing, and it seemed Muzan was only growing more and more irritated as time went by. You had lost all hope of him ever coming to see you for even a split second of affection.

You were outside, somewhere. An unknown location, simply sitting on a hill in the moonlight. The flowers were pretty, but you couldn’t take the time to admire them. You were far too lost in your thoughts. You didn’t care for the flowers if they weren’t the one Muzan wanted.

Suddenly, you noticed someone sit down beside you.

Your husband.

Neither of you spoke, even though you really wanted to. It wasn’t an awkward silence, the two of you just knew it wasn’t the right time to talk. Well, you knew. Muzan didn’t talk because he didn’t want to or feel like it. He’s always been like that. He rarely showed affection through his words, but you didn’t mind to much, especially not anymore. You had grown used to the small gestures of affection from a while ago, but now you were convinced they had stopped.

“.. My lord if.. If i’ve done something to offend you—“ You started, not looking at him as you spoke.

“You’ve been distant.”

You looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at you, not avoiding, but simply looking across the hills. “You haven’t spoke to me in so long.. You have only uttered few words but those were orders, and weren’t frequent either.” You said, hugging your knees.

“Am I supposed to come to you? What happened to you coming to me?”

Your husband said. It sounded cold, but you knew that wasn’t his intention. You usually always came to him, showing affection and in return receiving affection back. He was right, you never went to him anymore. But..

“It seems you’ve been mad at me..”

“I was mad, but that’s no reason not to come to me. I’ve been irritable lately with all these nuisances.”

“But if your irritated.. you don’t have to take your anger out o..” You trailed off, going silent before you could even finish your sentence as you noticed him glaring at you. Looking away uncomfortably you mumbled slightly. “..Nevermind— I.. It’s fine but—“

“Sorry.”

You blinked a few times, wondering if you were hearing things. You looked back at him. “Hu—“

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

You went quiet.

“Your supposed to say you forgive me.”

“Right!!— I forgive you.” You said, still a little shocked he had actually apologized. You’d never heard that word come out of his mouth before, unless he was mocking someone but that was different.

“—‘My lord’?”

“—My lord.” You added, a small smile playing on your lips at the reminder. You leaned against his shoulder slightly, and in return, he placed a hand on your waist.

“Don’t avoid me like that again.”

His hand came up to your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, before he leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. When was the last time you had kissed him. You looked up at him.

“No.”

“No? No to what?” You said, with a fake innocence, before quickly giving him a peck on the lips before he could speak.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

#demon slayer #demon slayer roleplay #muzan #lord muzan #muzan imagine #yandere muzan #muzan x reader #demon slayer muzan #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan headcanons #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba

575 notes · View notes

neteyamkink · 1 year

Note

cold neteyam meeting the clan’s sweetheart and having a soft spot for her but tries not to be obvi with it (everyone can lowkey tell though through the little gestures he does) that ends in smut when theyre alone and he wants to corrupt her innocence and reputation👀👀

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHHH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! sorry this took me so long i’m so slow 😭

paring: aged up!neteyam x metkayina reader

warnings: mean neteyam :( (he’s in love though), my first time writing smut in veryyyy long >.<, degrading, use of “slut”, “princess”, “sweetheart, lil corruption kink?, swearing ofc, disgusting smut idfk

At first, you thought it was the new environment making him so distant and rude. Eventually, you started to think it might've been just you, he had no problem talking with anyone else in the clan. Just you. Little did you know the reasoning behind that was that he was in deep denial about his feelings towards you. He hated the way you made him feel so vulnerable and helpless. So he had to hate you, right?

You'd try to reach out to him and try to start a conversation, but he would always turn you down with a, "I'm busy," or, "leave me alone." You couldn't lie it kind of hurt your feelings. everyone loved you, how could he not?

One afternoon most of the young adults and teenagers were hanging around a fire, the sullys and all of your friends included. You sat there crushing up herbs to make spices and listening in on the conversation everyone was having.

"Y/n stop being so quiet," Kumi spoke, you didn't like Kumi very much only because he was a part of ao'nung’s little bully crew.

"I'm busy, I'm listening though," You smiled still trying to be nice to him even though you really just wanted to tell him to fuck off. What can you say though? You were minding your business obviously focused on something else.

"Oh come on since when were you anti-social," Kumi laughs, now he has interrupted the group's conversation and everyone's attention was on you two.

"I'm not, sorry I'll chime in," you quickly said realizing this whole thing was interrupting the group. You hated yourself for apologizing for being busy, but you didn't want to disturb the group and make a big deal out of the whole situation.

"Why are you making her apologize? She's obviously busy dumb ass," Neteyam suddenly chimed in. Your eyes shot up to him, but he was already looking at you. He scrunched up his face and looked away crossing his arms.

"oh no it's okay, neteyam," you scrambled to find the correct words and suddenly your heart was running miles a minute.

"Whatever," he scoffed not bothering to look in your direction. Suddenly your heart felt like it was dropping into your stomach and the frown that was on your face was inescapable.

Later in the day after the fire, you decided you would figure this out. No one is allowed to not like you. Neteyam usually would go into the trees to practice archery late after dinner. Even though he had to learn the ways of these new people he was determined to not forget the ways of his own. How did you know this? Kiri is your new best friend.

Determined to befriend the forest boy you set out into the forest to find him, and of course, he was exactly where Kiri said he would be. You decided to sit back and watch before going up to him. He set up a practice station with a bunch of fruits hanging from trees. You watched him draw back his bow and arrow, His back and arm muscles flexed and his blue skin looked so glossy and smooth under the moonlight. fuck y/n, focus. He released his arrow and it went straight through the fruit and into the tree behind it.

"Impressive," you spoke up slowly walking out of the tree and bushes you were behind. His head snapped in your direction and once he saw who it was he rolled his eyes and took a breath.

"I didn't mean to scare you," you smiled sweetly, attempting to use the charm that had worked on others on him.

"You didn't," he scoffs grabbing an arrow from the group and pulling it through his bow. You thought archery was so cool... and he looked so hot doing it. focus, y/n.

"what are you doing here? how did you find me?" he asks releasing his arrow and landing it perfectly in the middle of the fruit. damn, he's good.

"I came to talk to you about something. Kiri told me where you might be," You spoke stepping a little closer towards him. He didn't look away from his targets.

"I hope you know earlier today was not me defending you. I just don't like kumi," though his tone was even and calm his words were harsh and hurtful. Does he really not like you that much?

"Why are you so mean to me?" You randomly blurted out with a pout formed on your face. Your mouth moved before you could think about what was coming out of it and as soon as the words came out you wanted to shove them right back in. You usually were never this straightforward or harsh with anyone. He turned to you and quirked his brow like he was shocked.

shit was he being too harsh? he thought. He just couldn't stand the way you made him feel. The way the innocent look in your eyes made his insides all tingly. The way that one look made him want to get on top of you and ruin those innocent eyes. fuck those eyes that you're giving him right now. Why do you have to torture him like this?

"Am I really?" he said dropping his bow and taking steps closer and closer toward you. Suddenly your throat was dry and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You took steps back as he got closer, too scared of what you might do if he got any closer. Too scared of what those yellow eyes burning through you might do to you.

"mhm," you hummed, heart racing as if you had just run to the moon and back.

"I can show you mean," he smirked. a gasp left your mouth when your back suddenly bumped into the bark of a tree, he had you cornered. And fuck you don't know what he meant by that but whatever he did you wanted it so badly. He looked as if he was going to eat you alive and my eywa you were begging he would.

"teyam..." you stuttered, putting your hands up to rest on his chest. "Teyam, please," you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were practically begging him to ruin you. your eyes looked up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip slightly jutted out in a pout. Fuck you drove him crazy.

"Say it," the smirk plastered on his lips makes your knees grow weak and you almost buckle over.

You can speak so you just push his neck down and smash your lips onto his. He wastes no time responding and kissing back. His sweet lips were rough against yours and the only thing you both could think about is why you didn't do this sooner. Everyone saw the tension between you two except for you. In the back of your mind, you knew you had been waiting for this moment.

"jump," he mumbles against your lips. You're quick to follow his instructions and jump, his strong arms catch you his hands have a firm grip cupping your ass. The tree you are pushed up against rubs against your porcelain skin.

"All you do is act so sweet and innocent around the others. I know what you really are," he speaks in between sloppy kisses. His words go straight to your brain and suddenly your head is all fuzzy and wonky. He moves from Your lips down to your neck, and your neck down to your collar bone, and your collar bone down to a little above your breast. then he repeats kissing, sucking, licking.

Your hands tangled in the back of his hair, and his braids felt rough in your hands. Your lips parted slightly to make way for the small hums and moans falling from them.

"need you right now, mk?" neteyam backs away from your neck to speak. you nod without hesitation, fuck you are so ready. The pool between your legs had been forming ever since he backed you into the tree.

"use your words, princess," The nickname darted straight to your pussy.

"yes, I need you," you spoke trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a low groan and reached one hand down to your loincloth, His big hand dragging across your wet slit.

"fuck," you gasped and bit your lip.

"All this for me?" he questions his lips curving into the stupidest grin. You simply nodded and tugged his hair tighter. He circled his finger around your clit a couple of times, making sure to get you nice and wet. small moans escaped from your mouth as you pawed at his loin cloth ready for more. You could feel him painfully hard against your palm.

“need you teyam,” you choked out, practically begging him to fuck you. He stopped his movements around your clit and looked you in the eyes. He was ready too. You looked up at him and batted your eyes, your eyes begged him for something- no… anything more.

“fuck, okay,” he quickly gave in undoing the knot of his loincloth with his free hand and letting it drop to his feet. He grabs his cock and lines it up with your entrance rubbing it up and down your slit. His hands practically shook with excitement.

“you sure?” he asks pausing before he goes any further. Without hesitation, you aggressively nod your head.

“words, ma ‘evenge (my girl),” the nickname drove you crazy causing the pool between your legs to get bigger and bigger.

“yes, teyam please,” you pleaded hands gripping the hair on his neck tighter. Immediately he was bullying his cock through your walls. When he entered you, you both gasped out of pleasure. The feeling of you being filled up makes your head go spinning, and the feeling of your warm walls around Neteyam makes him dizzy.

“oh, my eywa,” you whimper as he slowly pulls out and quickly snaps his hips back into yours. Your head swings back into the tree behind you and he uses both of his hands to cup for ass to support you. Back aching from being forced onto the rough bark behind you.

“Fuck baby,” he groans increasing his pace with every thrust. His nails dug into the plush of your ass and he couldn’t help but bury his head in the crook of your neck. Kissing, sucking, licking, and sometimes sinking his sharp fangs into your collarbone.

“You feel so good,” you whine bucking your hips up at him to meet him halfway, your body was begging for more.

“I need more,” you pleaded pushing his neck closer to you and shoving his body against yours, leaving sloppy kisses all over his shoulder. You needed to be closer to him, you needed to feel every movement he made, hear every breath he took, and kiss every inch you could.

“I know you want it so bad, huh baby?” his voice sounds sympathetic but he’s just being a meanie. His thrusts grow faster and faster, harder and harder. Your eyes roll into the back of your head due to the amount of pure bliss you were in.

“Fuck I been waiting to fuck you for so long. Ruin that pretty little innocent act you put on,” he practically growls into your neck. Your nails dig into his back.

“Please ruin me,” You begged, he scoffed at how needy and pathetic you were for him. He knew you weren’t as innocent as everyone made you out to be, so he was gonna fuck you like you weren’t.

“You’re all mine now,” he smirks against your collarbone as he sucked and bit marking you up so everyone would know he was yours and you were his.

“Say it ma ‘evenge,” he demanded.

“‘m all yours teytey,” you choked out through your moans. The knot in your stomach was growing tighter by the second and any second now you would cum.

“Please can I cum tey?” you begged, scratching up his back and marking him in your own way.

“Admit it, admit you’re a fucking slut,” His stern voice pulsated throughout your whole body sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m a slut,” you manage to choke out through your pants. His thrusts are becoming sloppy but his pace is still quick. You know he’s close.

“who’s slut are you?” He questions biting into your neck, his fangs so deep they feel like they’re going to draw blood.

“yours, teyam. All yours,” you breathe, his breaths quicken with yours and he throws his head back unable to take the pleasure anymore. You have to cum before him.

“cum, princess,” As soon as the word leaves his mouth, your a mess crumbling underneath him. Pleasure takes over your body and causes your head to throw back and your back to arch off the tree. The way your walls tighten around him sent him over. His thrusts became sloppy as his white ropes shot into you.

“I know, baby. I know,” He shushed you as you both came down from your high caressing your face with one of his hands and holding you up with the other.

“everyone’s gonna know you’re mine,” he smirked admiring the attacks he left on your neck.

#avatar #neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #fanfic #neteyam x reader

2K notes · View notes

daintcas · 1 month

Note

can you write something where you go into mean!rafes tent when you’re camping with friends late at night, claiming you heard a noise but he doesn’t believe you and he discovers you’re true intentions was just to get in his pants🙏

oh my god this is so creative 😭 switched it up just a lil but i think it still fits ur idea !! apologies it took me so long to finally get around to it!

the leaves crunch under your feet as you approach the insanely massive and luxurious tent just a few feet from your own.

you knew it was risky since everyone else was already asleep in their equally as expensive sleeping arrangements. it must have been the long night of partying around a bonfire because the only sound filling your ears were the crickets lingering at the nearby creek.

with nobody to interrupt your poorly thought out and drunken plan - after a few too many hard seltzers - you slowly unzipped what you were pretty sure was the zipper of rafe's tent. in all honesty, you didn't know him. he was just one among many guys a mutual friend invited, but you were coherent enough to recognize the suggestive glances he spared you.

you bit your lip while carefully stepping inside, attempting to minimize the ruffle of the uncomfortable material. it's pitch black in the tent - which is tall enough for you to stand at your full height. that is until the light of a phone screen exposes you standing in the unwelcome space.

"the fuck are you doing?" the voice is low and mean, clearly irritated at the invasion.

blinking your eyes open and looking straight into the only source of light, you pause for a moment before remembering the excuse you prepared earlier. "i, um— there was a noise. i thought it was coming from here?"

a scoff is what you get in return and the click of a lantern replaces the accusing spotlight from the device. that's when you get a good look at him, clad in grey sweats and a dark hoodie, socks bunched at his ankles. "a noise?"

blinking your heavy eyelids and looking up at him through your lashes, you can't help but feel adrenaline at the sarcasm in his tone. the drinks weren't working in your favor, that's for sure.

"mhm," you all but bob your head "in— in here. a noise." the amusement spreading across his face in the form of a smirk seals the deal, suddenly making you feel so small under his tall stature steadily approaching.

"riiight.." he draws out, raking in your form just like he had been before, but this time really taking it slow. from your fluffy socks up to the tiny victoria secret boxers, up to the lace bra peeking out from under your baggy sweatshirt.

if a cold night in the woods didn't give you goosebumps, his gaze certainly did. you let him encroach on your space, eyes glued to his face and tilting your head back to keep contact.

"you lyin'?" he finally questions, though his expression shows he already knows the answer - and already knows how you intend on responding.

"no.." you reply in a weak effort to keep up your story and use your hands to symbolize a crash as you add, "it was like a.. like a bang!"

his smile is a bit softer before returning to the menacing way it was before and he nods along with a taunting hum. nodding his head to end the discussion you both knew ended before it started, he acknowledges you directly. "why don't you tell me why you're really in here? not very safe sneaking around at night, is it?"

with a defeated sigh, you shake your head, tucking some hair behind your ear and standing calmly in a way you normally wouldn't if sober and well-rested.

a million thoughts run through his mind of exactly how this situation could play out as he tongues at his cheek and watches you closely. eventually deciding to think with the tent in his pants rather than the one sheltering the two of you, he leans right in your face and nudges your chin up to face him with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

"i'm sure your lil tent is cold, huh? why don't you uh— let me keep you warm, hm?" he offers while letting the scenarios run wild in his head. a pretty girl willingly bringing herself to him in the middle of the night, secluded, with nobody else in earshot.

it's like that's all you were waiting for because an eager yet still sweet and innocent smile finds your face. only able to squeak out a "'kay" before he's leading you gently by your upper arm to an air mattress - as of now still completely inflated.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron prompt

82 notes · View notes

creedslove · 1 year

Text

BETRAYED - FINAL CHAPTER

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: smut (masturbation f!, implied unprotected p in v, light spanking, a little bit of biting kink if you squint, dirty talk in english and spanish) and fluff, like A LOT OF FLUFF

A/N: It's the end 😭 the end of my beloved and beautiful series. A series that wasn't supposed to be a series, it started as a one shot and it became a series thanks to you all who asked for more, gave me feedbacks suggestions, sent me asks and showed me support! I know I couldn't please everyone as some of you wanted a sad ending and also some people weren't not pleased with some plots (chapter seven, anyone? hehehe) still, I loved every part of it and I am sad it's over but I am also pretty excited to see it is the very first time I actually end a story I began. I hope you enjoy this last chapter and the series as much as I did ❣️

2.7k words

The ride home was extremely difficult as you and Pedro had a hard time keeping your hands off each other. After dancing together at the wedding and teasing each other shamelessly in public, you two couldn't contain yourselves. If he could, he would have you right there and then, but at the same time, he wanted to have a special first time with you. You were the woman he loved, and not some lay for the night, but god knew how much willpower it took him.

You couldn't stop kissing him, as you two exited the ballroom, you pushed him against the wall, getting his suit jacket off in the middle of the hallway "fuck you Pedro" you whispered "you don't have the right of being this hot" you chuckled against his ear.

All you got was a smirk and a smack on the ass, drawing a loud moan from your mouth. He pulled you even closer "come on muñequita, let's get you out of here"

•••

You pressed your thighs together as you watched Pedro drive. He was focused on the road, his knuckles turning white at how tight he gripped the steering wheel, so impatient to get home, but it seemed it was taking too long.

You watched his side profile, your heart beating faster at how handsome he was. You took in every feature of his, he was gorgeous and he was about to be yours, just as you were about to be his. You felt the anticipation in your entire body, your lust for him, growing at every passing moment. You observed his profile and remembered when was the last time he gave you a ride. How scared you were, when you thought you were pregnant and he was by your side. Even if you both weren't on your best senses and things were shaken between the two of you. You remembered how sweet he was that night, how soft his touches were on your skin and how he did everything in his power to give you comfort.

Your heart tightened and you leaned towards him, kissing his neck gently and startled him.

"Shit princesa, careful, I gotta drive" he said in his husky voice, though your neck kisses sent shivers down his spine. He chuckled and held your head in place with one hand "you're a naughty little girl, aren't you, mariposa? You're dying to be my sweet little puta" his hand slid down your hair caressing it before making its way down your back. He saw how you lifted your hips softly and squeezed your cheeks, not getting enough of your delicious sexy ass.

"Please Pedro, we gotta stop somewhere, I need you now" you purred at him, biting your lips and earned a scoff "I told you to be patient, cariño, you are not gonna be fucked in the car like any slut, you deserve my home, my bed" my heart, he thought to himself and smiled, briefly turning his attention to you, pecking your cheek gently "besides, you aren't any slut, you are my puta" he winked and looked at the road again.

You could barely hold yourself as you really wanted the man, it had been far too long and you just wanted his touch and nothing else. He couldn't concentrate with you squirming in the passenger seat so Pedro took one hand to your thigh, caressing it softly, feeling how soft you were under his fingertips, going further and finding your lace panties under it. He couldn't see them, but he could feel them and boy, they were wet.

He glanced at you "shit Y/N, you're a fucking tease, know that?" He said and instructed you to open your legs wider and giving him more space to feel you up.

He pulled your panties to the side and touched your slit. Your warmth was welcoming to his touch, he could feel your wetness pooled and spread it up and down. Pedro wanted to explore your body, but he couldn't at that moment, so he reserved that moment to touch your clit, making you whimper. He rubbed it in circular moments, seeing how you bucked your hips towards his hand, rubbing yourself on it as much as you could.

It took a lot of control so he wouldn't stop the car right there to fuck you senseless but now you were almost home.

He took his hand away and saw how coated his fingers were in your honey.

He took them to his mouth and sucked on it "mmm eres tan dulce mi muñequita" he praised and not resisting it took his finger to your pussy one more time, repeating his motion and getting them coated once more. He smirked at you, rubbing his finger on his bottom lip and smearing your juices over it "come on princesa, taste yourself" he told you in a husky voice.

As you kissed his lips, you felt your own taste. It was so obscene and dirty and you loved every single minute of it.

You knew there were only some blocks left until you got to his house, but it didn't stop you from rubbing his hard cock over his clothes to get your man some relief.

•••

The ride home left the two of you hot and bothered but as soon as you two stepped foot into his home, Pedro pulled you for a sloppy kiss. He wanted all of you, every single piece of you. The first thing he did was to get rid of his suit jacket, he just couldn't stand that amount of clothes on his body and certainly couldn't stand to see you so covered up like that. It was going to be your first time together, as a couple, as two people who loved each other and weren't afraid to show that. No tricks, no games, just the two of you.

He broke the kiss and rubbed your sides up and down, taking his lips to your neck as his smart hands found the zipper of your dress, opening it with no difficulty and seeing it fall onto your feet.

You stood in nothing but your lingerie and your heels in front of him, his gaze burning your skin at how he stared at you, at first you could see the admiration as to him, nothing was more beautiful, but you could swear his eyes darkened in desire and suddenly you felt like a prey waiting for the predator's next move.

Pedro took a step closer and lifted you up, making you squeal in surprise. He looked down at you and placed a sweet kiss to your forehead, in contrast to all the desire he had within.

"You deserve the best, cariño" he winked and took you to his bed, bridal style.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, he stood up at his full height, admiring your body "undress for me, papi" you pouted at him

"Never took you for someone who would call me daddy, Y/N" he said as he slowly undid his tie and stared down at your body groaning under his breath as you boldly reached for his crotch and caressed his painful boner.

"Fine, princesa, I'll undress you if you are a good girl for me, think you can do that?" You nodded "so first things first, these shoes stay" he pointed at your feet "and now be my sweet little puta, got it?"

He sat on the edge of the bed, kissing you deeply, his tongue against yours, your hot breath mixing in your desperate moans before he placed his tie on your mouth, wrapping it around your head and tying it, gagging you.

Pedro pulled your bra down, exposing your hard nipples and purred in approval, kissing each one of them taking his time, before wrapping his lips around them, suckling on them and flicking his tongue over them.

"Fuck princess, how many times I've seen you swimming in my pool and your sweet hard nipples so visible in your slutty bikini… you teased me so much, mi amor, you deserve to be spanked" he got rid of your bra, freeing your breasts and caressing your tits.

You rolled on your stomach at his order and Pedro immediately swatted down your ass cheeks.

The reddish tone of his hand immediately spread through your skin with a stinging sensation. You whimpered and earned another swat. Now both of your cheeks had the same shade and Pedro loved the sight. He leaned towards you, massaging your ass, feeling the heat of your sensitive skin against his palm.

"So beautiful, so hermosa mi amor" he murmured and kissed the small of your back, going his way down your cheeks, kissing them gently at the same time he used his big hands to spread them apart. Pedro could see how the string of your panties barely covered your holes, the wet cloth brushing against your sensitive slit.

He sank his teeth down your flesh gently, love bites on your plump cheeks, dragging whimpers and moans from you.

He pulled your panties to the side, groaning in approval at the sight of you completely exposed to him.

He didn't think twice before sinking his face into your core, tasting you and slurping your juices like a starving man.

You'd never felt that way with anyone, the way your skin felt on fire, like you'd burst into flames when he took you over edge at how many times he pleased you.

You welcomed him length inside of you, loving his weight against your body, his touches, whimpers and grunts, having him whole, his load deep into your womb until you finally relaxed in each other's embrace.

•••

After you spent your first night with Pedro, you also spent other nights with him, and mornings, and afternoons and as many days as you possibly could fit into your hectic schedule.

Pedro flew all over, busy with work. He was shooting movies, doing photoshoots, having interviews, attending events and it seemed everyone wanted a piece of your boyfriend.

Yes, boyfriend.

After the first time you slept together, Pedro woke you up with his lips pressed against your neck, his beard tickling your skin and a beautiful breakfast waited for you at the kitchen table. He grinned proudly at how surprised you seemed but eventually admitted he had ordered it from your favorite bakery.

It didn't matter, you loved it anyway.

And just as you ate breakfast, Pedro took your hand and caressed your knuckles so gently "I want you to be my girlfriend" he said in a shy tone "I am done playing games, Y/N, I want us to be together once for all" he said and looked into your eyes "remember when I told you about my dream?" He blushed and looked down for a moment, before staring at you again "I want it, with you and only you and if you want it as well, it doesn't have to be now, but if you say yes, then I'll be the happiest man in the world" he didn't even take a breath between sentences, those big brown puppy eyes waiting for an answer.

And your answer of course, had to be yes.

After a couple of months, Pedro asked you to move in with him, not move in together per se, as he was away so much from work you guys didn't get to live together though you shared the same house. But it was a logical conclusion to accept. That way you would save up money from rent, his house wouldn't be unattended for so many months and overall his home was bigger and more comfortable than yours. Not to mention his swimming pool was more than welcome on hot days.

Still, you didn't feel so happy when he wasn't around, but everything reminded you of him. His clothes, his cologne, his belongings, everything made the distance a little less painful.

You weren't expecting Pedro for another week while you prepared yourself a bath. You had had a stressful day at work and you needed to unwind a little.

You waited for the water to fill up the tub and picked a bath bomb. You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the times you shared the tub with Pedro. You really missed him and you sighed sadly. You took off your robe and sank yourself in the water.

You had no idea how long you'd spent in the tub, but when you were done, you could see your fingers were wrinkled at the contact with water for so long. You finally gathered the courage to break your laziness haze and dried yourself.

Pedro entered the house quietly. Though most lights were out indicating you were upstairs it just felt like home. He wasn't arriving to an empty home, he could feel the warmth inside, the one that irradiates from people, he could also smell your delicious dinner, set on the counter, cooling down before being eaten. He could smell your perfume, see your small little things scattered here and there, and he knew he was home.

It was just like his dream, though there weren't any kids around, you were home to him and he wanted to keep you close forever.

He could hear you upstairs, probably using the tub and smiled to himself, letting the house in dim lights. He sat down onto the couch and relaxed for a while.

When you finally went downstairs, you didn't remember leaving some of the lights on and frowned softly. When you got into the kitchen, you found Pedro with a bottle of water.

You squealed in happiness and ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and laughing as he held your hips, sustaining your weight and lifting you up.

"Mi amor, I missed you so much!!!" You said excitedly using the same pet name he had for you.

Pedro didn't say a word, he just kissed you, wanting you more than anything and once you broke the kiss, he looked at you, he took a real good look at you and his heart raced. He had made so many plans for which moment he would pick for that, but it felt perfect for him at that right time and he silently fell on his knees in front of you, getting a box out of his pocket and showing you the ring. Needless to explain, you said yes.

•••

You bit your lips as the song started playing. You'd been through so many emotions that evening but there was something more to what you were living at that moment.

Pedro took your hand and gently pulled you close to his body, he kissed your forehead and placed his hands on your hips, you looked at the small crowd of friends and family watching your first dance as a married couple and felt your heart flutter. You looked up at him and laughed softly, kissing his lips gently, earning a cheer from the guests.

You rested your head against Pedro's chest as you both swayed to the slow song and you remembered the time he broke your heart by dancing with another woman. Your arms tightened around his body unconsciously but immediately brushed off the thought. It didn't matter anymore, you and Pedro had had your dark moments, but you both overcame what happened, and improved yourselves for each other. You met again and finally admitted your feelings and now you were finally married. There were no more hidden, unrequited feelings, no more secrets from the media, you were his and he was yours. You still weren't so sure about kids. Sometimes you wanted them desperately and sometimes you were thankful you didn't have to worry about them at all.

But you had talked about maybe start trying for one next summer, once Pedro was done shooting and of course, when you had enjoyed your honeymoon. It didn't matter one bit, you had him and now he was your husband.

You looked into his eyes

"I love you, husband" you giggled "te amo mi amor" you told him in your bad spanish.

He smiled big and placed another peck on your lips

"Te amo mucho mi cariño, I love you wife"

It seemed after all, you and Pedro finally got the happy ending you both dreamed of.

The end

_____

A/N: IT'S OVER 😭 I'm so happy I finally managed to finish a story because I have never finished a story before, lmao, but I am kinda sad because I enjoyed writing this story so much. I hope you guys have liked it and don't worry, there might be another Pedro angst piece coming soon, it's just an idea that's popped into my head but I already tell you it won't be a long series like Betrayed and there will be no happy ending 😭

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader

573 notes · View notes

factual-fantasy · 2 months

Text

22 ASKS!! :DD THANK YOU!! :} 🎉🎂🎉

GASPPP!! :DDD I'D LOVE TO!! :}} 💖💖

I've actually been thinking a lot about Louis and his story lately! Though, since drawing is rather taxing on me atm I haven't gotten around to making him a character study post.. Like I did for Cuttlefish.. BUT!! I have still made some story bits for him anyways! :DD 👇👇

I had this idea that he used to be an ordinary flavored cookie of some kind. And he used to live on land as this washed up fisherman that was really down on his luck.. he had lost his job, his home, his arm.. he had no friends.. no family.. nothing. He was really lost and alone..

Its around that time he was somehow welcomed aboard Seafoam's ship. It was just Seafoam, Octo and Ellie at the time. Louis found great comfort and security with this crew. He had never felt more welcome and wanted in his life.. This environment started to break down Louis' anxieties and depression overtime. Slowly turning him into the more jolly and boisterous Louis the crew knows him as today.

But things would take a seemingly bad turn when a curse befell Louis. Turning him into this half cookie, half crab beast. Louis' body had changed significantly, the biggest change being his huge crab arm. Now, most cookies would consider this ghastly new form to be what its intended to be. A curse.. But Louis.. actually didn't mind the changes. In fact, he liked his new body. Quite a lot! And though his new crab arm did cause him quite a bit of aches and pains.. and also took away his ability to swim.. he honestly considered it an upgrade!

Where before he had a missing arm and was completely useless in combat.. now he had this huge intimidating claw in its place! With his new found strength and power, he was a force to be reckoned with! Not only that, but he didn't see his new body as ugly, he thought he looked AWESOME! So he also got a major confidence boost too!

In present day, Louis is a confident, sociable, and all around happy person. And he gives all the credit to Seafoam and his crew for his new found zest for life! :}} ✨🦀💖✨

Anyways-- thank you for taking interest in Louis! :DD rn drawing is rather challenging for me, but I hope to draw him again someday soon! Maybe I can go back and make him his own character study post like I wanted to! 👀👀

I KNOWWW WAAAAAAA 😭😭😭💖💖💖💔💔💖

@pink088

XD Bibi would probably use it to make a cold glass or water for me🥺💖

And hey, thanks for the cake! :DD No doubt Cici will devour it XDD (Bibi allows it)

I suppose if I really wanted to I could learn how. But I don't want to turn my hobby into a job..

I made my first post on December 19th, 2018!! :00 That's roughly 4-5 years or so!

I use FireAlpaca! And I use a xp-pen 13.3 pro tablet ✨✨

As for that Undyne and Papyrus post.. The story behind it is, that Papyrus is from a different timeline. And in his original timeline.. Undyne is dead.. Now, this other Undyne knows that her Papyrus, the "real" Papyrus, is somewhere else in the underground. So this Papyrus is an imposter. She questions this imposter. "Who are you, and why do you look like Papyrus?" She waits for this imposter to answer.. But Papyrus has no words.. since his Undyne died, he hasn't heard her voice in a very long time... he's too shocked to speak..

I DO have a YouTube channel, and I was intending to make animations for it... but I lost my drive. Animations get stolen A LOT. And Animations take a ton of time to make. I was discouraged.. why would I spend so much time on something, if its more likely to be stolen?

Though I have been thinking about making sketch animatic memes... maybe once my health improves I could try to make one-

And hey! Don't worry about my arms, I can make several whether I'm feeling good or bad! :D

AND AAA THANK YOU!! :DD I'm glad you like him and noticed his eye details!! :}}}

(Post in question)

XDD Jangles is chaotic enough to sleep hanging upside down tho lets be real-

@yourstrulylightstar283 (In response to this post)

:DD Bibi gives his thanks!

@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson (In response to this post)

XDD I know right?? Another year has already come and gone, its crazy to think about! :00

And don't worry, I've been focusing all my energy on taking care of myself and drinking lots of water! 👍👍

Awe! Thank you so much!! :DD Right now the main thing I'm battling is my poor mental and physical health.. but I have high hopes that things will improve soon! :)))

@the-woomyverse (Post in question)

:DD Thank you! I'm glad you liked them!! :}}

As for Ludwig and Morton, unfortunately they don't have a lot of story built yet.. but I'm working on it! <:D

Ludwig is intended to be the eldest sibling, and heir to the throne. He's the "Prince of the Koopas". That post shows Ludwig seeming nervous.. and unsure. I'm experimenting with Ludwig taking his role as heir very seriously.. but its stressful. He feels like he's under a lot of pressure and has a loooot of responsibility to look forward to..

Though I'm kind'a going back on that a bit. The canon Ludwig seems pompous and a bit arrogant. Maybe I should keep some of that but in a positive way? I imagine that Bowser wouldn't force Ludwig to do this if he didn't want to. And I imagine that Kamek would have done very well to prepare Ludwig for his future kingly-hood.

What I mean by this is. I think a more.. confident, and level headed version of Ludwig would be appropriate. Rather than a pompous snob or a nervous wreck. He could be a young prince with a lot of wit and discipline. A price that is bound to make a fine king. 👑

For Morton I'm afraid there's even less story built for him 😭💔💔 Right now the main thing I'm experimenting with is Morton having some form of melanism. (Its a mutation where animals are born with excess pigment in their skin. Making their fur/hair/skin very dark/black when it otherwise would not have been.)

I could experiment with Morton not liking this aspect of himself..? Maybe it makes him feel out of place or insecure..? Though I doubt any of the individuals around him would have judged him or treated him differently at all for it.. even his siblings.

Idk, I just need some more time to think about him I suppose! <XDD Sorry!! 😭😭

Thank you!! :DD

@untitled-7613 (Post in question)

Thank you! :DD I'm glad you like them!! :}}

And Jimmy was a lovely gift, though I didn't create him! The factual fam is mostly intended to be made of characters that I can take credit for-

(Note- Jimmy was a nice gift, but please! I stand by only wanting comments <:} 💖💖)

@tallchest13-blog

Dawww, as far as I'm concerned, you've followed me twice! At least in spirit! XD

@couchwow

Hergn... but that takes efforttt... how about you tell me what you like about it first? :0

@neo-metalscottic

No problem!! :D And I wonder that about K Rool. I didn't actually realize that he would be very similar to Bowser.. hmm. Well, I'm thinking that even if he is close to Bowser in size, Bowser's got him beat by his fire breathing ability XDD And King/Big Koopa's overall could just be a tougher species-

As for the Super Stars, they have about the same status as the 1-Up Mushrooms. They are this extremely rare Power up that seems to only show up when its needed.

I've been experimenting with the toad people worshiping 1-Ups and the Delfino people worshiping Super Stars. These bizarre and wonderous powerups that are strongly tied to the prophecy and what not. They're also related to how Peach and Daisy became royalty..

Its a lot of complicated word spaghetti atm but the point I'm getting at- is that there is definitely more than one! And they are so powerful and so.. seemingly sentient, that they are seen as almost.. like.. these holy beings that bring about future events.

I haven't rambled about all that biz yet becuase I cant find proper words to figure out what I'm even thinking <XD Gonna need some more time on that one!--

And yes yes yes! The Commander is still around, and AWWW!! Is he really?? :DD That's so sweet! Thank you so much!! :}} I haven't thought much about what role he's played in raising the Koopalings, though I really should. While he isn't there to actually help raise them, he's always been around as they've grown up. Whether it be following Kamek around or doing some kind of work around the palace.

When it comes to Bowser returning injured.. I wonder. part of me thinks that he wouldn't return right away, so maybe his injury wasn't seen by the Commander. But the news of his defeat would certainly be bone chilling. Commander would be more tense around the palace. And probably extends his night watches a bit longer in an attempt to better protect the Koopalings..

On the last note, Yes! I do plan to redesign him once again XD or at least update him a little- Though drawing is very challenging for me atm.. so that'll have to wait a while!.. <XDD

@littlelightfish

WAAAA THIS ASK GAVE ME LIFFFEEEE!!😭😭💖💖💖 NO ITS NOT TOO INTENSE THE ONLY THING THAT IS INTENSE IS MY PURE JOY AT READING THIS OVER AND OVER WAAAHG THANK YOU SO MUVHCHH!!!💖💖💖💖😭😭💖💖

As for your questions! <XD --I've been thinking more about Tuna's character over the past few days and this got me thinking even more! :D

I imagined that when Tuna started out he was a real brat. Not super great to be around. He had some bottled up stuff for sure and was real rebellious and resistant to authority figures. Nobody was really willing to deal with his crap and always pushed back, which just made him more bratty.. for a while Seafoam wasn't sure what he was gonna do with this kid..

But then he reached some kind of middle ground with Ellie.

I have several ideas in mind for how this could go.. but I'll ramble about this one first- XDD

Ellie has thick skin and could tolerate the snarky remarks he made. She also didn't push back, even through she very easily could have. She knows that this kid has some serious inner battles and he doesn't need her snapping back at him.

And like some of the things you mentioned, it started out with Tuna just bumming around in the kitchen. Since Ellie could tolerate him she never kicked him out. Making the kitchen kind'a like a space where he could.. "get away" from the rest of the crew, in a sense..

Ellie was the first person to crack that outer shell of his. Providing him a consistent source of comfort, with her food and the quiet kitchen.

After some time the snarky remarks or comments would slow down.. over time he just resorts to standing around and watching her cook. Getting closer and closer.. eventually asking questions. "What are ye makin..?" "..what's that do..?" She would always reply genuinely. And as gently as she could considering her usual monotone voice <XD

Eventually it turns into "..where'd you learn to cook?" "..how long have you known Octo..?" "..do you trust Cuttlefish.?"

She could say kind things about the crew which gets Tuna to lighten up around them. "Octo seems mean but actually he's just blah blah blah..." Next time he interacts with Octo he's less tense. "Seafoam is genuinely as kind as he seems. If ye can trust anyone, its him." He starts listening to Seafoam more..

These interactions would continue to develop more and more. I don't know if he'd ever be able to help her cook anything- considering how strict she is about it <XDD But although I have several more ideas for this, I like this idea of Ellie really softening him up over time..

WAAHDH WALL OF TEXT--- Thank you again so much!!! :DD It makes my heart very happy to hear that you love Tuna and Ellie so much!! 🥰🥰

(Sorry for not being able to transfer your cookie gifs to this post! <:0)

Hmm.. that makes me wonder if the cookie run characters have.. cookies. Like, small cookies that THEY eat.

Something tells me they don't.. Which makes me think that seeing someone eat a normal cookie would still be horrifying! <XDD

@mrslilysnow

Awe! Thank you so much! :DD Such a pleasant and wholesome message to read, truly. :}}

I'm working out my feelings with the fandom.. tbh I think I'm just in a place where my emotions are all outa whack. And I'm just avoiding anything and everything that upsets me. 💔

I'm sure in a few weeks when I get my health back on track I'll feel better about the Octonauts fandom. Perhaps I'll even return with more updated designs! XD

@radicalrainbow

:DDD THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I'm so glad to hear that!! :}}}

And huh.. its been a while since I've drawn the FNAF string beans hasn't it? Once I can get my health back on track I should draw them again! <XDD

@lampylamperson

Blue!💙💙 :DD Specifically shades similar to what ever this one is XDD 👇👇

:000....... FISH! :DD

@canonickero

SLJFKSJF THAT DISCRIPTION OF THE PIC XDDD JHASKDEJHV

And thank you! This makes me feel a lot better XDD

@beryl-shade

I think the cookie run games have cake/dog things..? I'm assuming the crews pet would be one of those :00

As for the names you've suggested, I love Patty, Pretzel, Muffin and Cornbread XDD such great names! :DD

#my response #factual fam #bibi #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs #octonauts #undertale #deltarune #super mario bros

76 notes · View notes

melanieph321 · 1 year

Note

If you are still taking requests, could I ask for a Ruben angst to fluff where his daughter is like under 1 years old, but is at Nursery and comes down with a fever. They can’t get through to reader, so the nursery have to phone Ruben instead and he worries about his daughter and also why his wife hasn’t been contactable?! Hope this all makes sense 😅 thank you xx

Ugh, I loved writing this. 😭 Thank you for the request. I changed it up a bit so that the child is old enough to talk.

Ruben Dias x Reader - Daddy of The Day

Enjoy!

"Hello, Mr Dias?"

"Yes that's me. Who's this?"

Ruben thought another journalist had gotten a hold of his phone number again, but it turned out to be the principal of his daughter's day care.

"Why would you need me to come and pick her up?"

Ruben was confused, it was barley lunchtime. He had just gotten out of his physio appointment at the teams training center.

"I'm sorry to bother you Mr Dias but it would be better for your daughter to go home as soon as possible."

"Why?" His heart jumped.

"She has a very high fever and complaining of pain in the rectum. We're guessing the flu."

Ruben nodded. The flu was bad. "I'll call my wife, she's usually the one to handle these things."

"I'm afraid we've tried reaching your wife Mr Dias, several times."

"She's not answering?"

"We've called your nanny and your wifes listed emergency contact, her mother. You're the first person I could get a hold of Mr Dias."

Ruben took a minute to collect his thoughts. It was clear what he had to do. "All right, I'll be there in thirty minutes."

"Again, sorry to bother you Mr Dias. Your wife has informed us not to call this number unless..."

"It's an emergency." He nodded. "Don't worry, I'll be there."

After speaking to his coach and his team, Ruben left Manchester City's training ground. He could imagine the headlines in the tabloids tomorrow, "Ruben Dias out of the squad?". He couldn't care less though. This was a family emergency and to him family always comes first.

"Y/N, please call me as soon as you get this. I'm on my way to the day care now." Ruben left you a third message as he drove to the day care center. He was starting to worry that somthing might have happened to you because this wasn't normal for you not to answer his calls, even during working hours.

"Daddy my tummy." Your daughter groand. Ruben had picked hebrup from the day care and was now rushing through traffic to take her to the hospital. She was too weak to walk so Ruben carried her in his arms to the ER front desk.

"We'll run some blood tests and see what we can do." Said a nurse after Ruben and your daughter was taken into a separate room.

"Daddy what will the doctors do?" She asked. They had her lie in a hospital bed but she quickly became anxious being detached form Ruben. He settled with holding her in his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"They're just going to run some tests baby, draw some blood from your arm.

"Blood?" Your daughter gasped. Then her lip began to tremble. "I want mommy."

"Trust me I want mommy too."

Ruben checked his phone. There was no messages from you. Where could you possibly be?

"Daddy I want mommy!"

It didn't take long for your daughter to be in a sea of tears. Ruben rocking her back and forth was to no use. He felt so hopless without you by his side.

"Okay look." Ruben said, in a tone that startled your daughter. He only ever used this tone with his teammates during half time in a tough game. "Daddy wants mommy too. He really really does. But mommy isn't here right now, it's just you and me. But you and me are also strong. Not as strong as mommy, but mommy has taught us well, hasn't she?"

Your daughter wiped her tears and gave a slight nod.

"Good. Now when the doctor comes in to runs some test, we will show them how strong we are, together."

"Okay."

"That's my girl."

The doctors ran many tests on your daughter and by the time you left your final meeting at work you realized that your phone had no battery and needed to be charged. Your heart jumped seeing dozens of missed calls from Ruben, the day care and your mother.

"Where is she?"

You made your way to the hospital as fast as you could. Your mother was there to meet you at the entrance.

"She's resting. The doctors ran many test."

"And...?" You were walking with rushed steps down the hospital hallways, thinking that the worst things has happened to your daughter.

"They say she might be allergic to gluten."

You altered your steps. "Allergic to what?"

"Gluten. That would explain her stomach aches."

"Where's Ruben?"

You arrived in front of a hospital room. You're mother gestured towards the door. "In there. I think they're asleep."

It was a peaceful sight, Ruben and your daughter laying on the hospital bed hugging each other.

"Ruben?" You felt slightly guilty to shrugg him awake.

"Y/N?" His eyes flung open at the sight of you. "Y/N, where have you been are you okay?"

"Am I okay? You're the one in a hospital bed with our daughter."

"Right." Ruben looked back to where she was sleeping. "Turns out she's gluten."

You sighed in relief, everyone seemed to be okay.

"I tried calling you and the school tired calling you."

"I know baby and I'm sorry. My phone died during one of our meeting runs and I forgot my charger at home."

"Well after this I'm buying you a box full of charges." Ruben stretched his arms above his head and yawned. He looked so exhausted, you thought.

"I'm sorry you had to leave training to pick her up." You muttered. "It should have been me."

Ruben shook his head and railed you on with his hands on your waist. "We're in this together, you and me."

"And her." You smiled. Your daughter stirred, slowly coming to.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, baby, I'm here." You caressed her cheek as Ruben helped bring her to sit up. Her arms were covered with smiley stickers and a big bandage where blood had been drawn from her arm.

"Mommy, I'm gluten." She said.

"So I've heard." You chuckled.

"Daddy says I'm strong no matter what. Just like you."

You looked to Ruben who blushed. You ran a hand through his hair. "Well Daddy is strong too. Especially today when Mommy couldn't be there for you."

"Will you be there for me next time?" Your daughter asked, tossing and turning in Ruben's lap.

"Of course I will and Daddy too. We will be there for you together, always."

#fanfiction #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #love and desire #fluff #footballer x reader #football imagine #ruben dias imagine #football angst #football x reader

370 notes · View notes

simpsforwomen · 1 year

Note

Hiii! Can I pls request a fic when Wednesday accidentally comes out as lesbian to fem!reader and she’s over the moon happy

(Bc she knows now she’s got a chance bc she’s got a little crush on Wednesday)

Just a sweet little one and an adorably embarrassed Wednesday❤️😭

No pressure at all <3

✧ reply: Hiii! I saw this and had to start writing immediately. This is too cute! Here's my take on it. Enjoy!

❦ 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗬𝗼𝘂

✧ warnings: n/a

✧ pairing(s): Wednesday Addams x gn!reader

✧ summary: (request)

✧ word count: 511

✧ a/n: i never specify genders in my fics since they're not exactly third person. i hope this one is still okay even though i didn't directly mention that the reader is afab. i love you all and as always, comments, feedback, and corrections are greatly appreciated. thank you and enjoy! <3

☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎

Wednesday had invited you for drinks at Weathervane. She never said why but you had nothing to do anyway so you agreed.

"Order for Wednesday!"

She stood up and walked to the counter. You heard her say a quick 'thank you' to Tyler the barista, before he smiled dreamily at her. Ignoring him, she walked back to the booth you two were sitting in.

Although it hurt, Tyler was giving her pretty obvious signs. From writing little messages on her cup to drawing occasional black hearts. Besides, there was a dance coming up and Wednesday has yet to find a date. Speaking of which—neither have you.

"He definitely likes you." You observed. "You should ask him to the Rave'N."

Wednesday took a sip of her drink, seeming to like it. She was trying something new.

"I don't enjoy the company of men." She stated plainly.

"Oh okay." You shrugged, not thinking much of it.

And then you realized.

Oh.

OH.

From the looks of it, she realized too. Her cheeks were light pink. They had color.

Your eyes lit up and you practically screamed with joy. Wednesday obviously noticed.

Still deadpanning, she asked. "Why are you so happy?"

You knew she was already embarrassed but you had to tell her. It was now or never.

"It's 'cause—" You pause, taking a deep breath. "I've had a crush on you for like—the longest time and I never knew how to tell you because I didn't know if you even liked women and I was too embarrassed to ask and—" You were rambling.

"Quiet, (Y/N)." She glared at you, her cheeks even more flushed now.

You couldn't help but blush a bit yourself. Taking a sip of your drink, you notice Thing crawling up on the table and signing something to Wednesday. It was difficult to tell what he was trying to say since his back was facing you.

"No. Not right now." Wednesday glared at him. "Say a word to anyone and I will kill you."

He then frantically signed something else, making Wednesday sigh rather deeply.

"Fine." Wednesday turned to you, softening her eyes. "I..." She hesitated, an unusual occurrence.

"Yes?" You asked curiously, knowing that anything emotion-wise was hard for her.

"I enjoy your company." She blurted out then turned to Thing in embarrassment.

You giggled while Thing motioned something to her again, earning another deadly glare. The nonverbal banter continued before Wednesday finally gave in. Her cheeks were still flushed when she turned back to you.

"Attend the Rave'N with me." She demanded.

"Only if you ask nicely." You were teasing her now and there was no way she would—

"Will you—" Wednesday started, and there was a long pause before she continued. "Please attend the Rave'N with me?"

You were bursting with joy. "Yes Wednesday, I would love to! You're adorable when you're embarrassed."

"Call me adorable again and I will personally decapitate all your stuffed animals." She threatened while fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

You smirked, looking into her eyes. "Adorable. So very adorable..."

#wednesday x y/n #wednsday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday #nevermore #oneshot #gn reader #fem reader #fluff #request #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday fanfic

451 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 9 months

Note

i absolutely love how you write hobie, so tenderly and sweet but still very much hobie😭❤️I was wondering if I could ask for hobie with a s/o with fibromyalgia, maybe fluff hurt/comfort? I don't know if you're familiar with it but it's kind of a chronic pain disorder, (I just got diagnosed oof), totally okay if you're not comfortable with it tho!

I'm sorry that you're going through this, I hope this helps lift your spirits, I'll keep you in my thoughts, hun ❤️ I hope I wrote this okay, I did some research about it, to make sure I'm writing it well for you. Sorry this took awhile, hope you're doing okay ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, descriptions of pain, Hurt/Comfort.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You lay on your back, the old sofa's springs digging into your shoulder which certainly doesn't help the throbbing pain in your entire body. You're in too much pain to move into the bedroom, especially with the sharp pain digging in your feet. Hissing out when a wave of pain sends shivers through you.

Hobie holds out a cold glass of water near your head, the condensation drops on your cheek, Hobie reaches out to wipe at it quickly but carefully, so as to not cause you anymore discomfort.

"Sorry," his long fingers grazing your cheek gingerly. Hobie crouches down to your eye level, eyes gauging your emotions. " 'm sorry, love" you don't know if he's apologizing for what happened, or if it's because you're in pain.

He hates seeing you like this, your face scrunched up, eyes glistening at him. Hobie wishes he could just take it away from you. Fight it for you. He drops the glass right next to him, you crane your neck to look at him, despite the dull pain, a tight lipped smile.

"It's okay, not your fault" you softly say.

"You haven't drank water in a bit, sorry"

"Stop apologizing, I know you mean well" you raise your finger at the knit on his forehead, trying to straighten it out. "I'll take that water please"

You lift yourself up, Hobie rushes to help you, his hand warm on your hand and back, his grip on you is soft, fully aware of his strength. You exhale, thanking him with a small smile.

Hobie crouches in front of you, he wipes the glass, getting the condensation off it, before handing it to you. You gulp it down, not realizing how thirsty you've been.

"Thank you" he grabs the glass from you, careful not to touch your fingers.

You notice he's been avoiding touching you, opting for small careful touches, you completely understand his sentiment, not wanting you to feel any additional discomfort from his touch. But you want it though, he doesn't know how much it helps, how he helps.

Hobie can't read your mind, so you hold out your hand towards him. "Can I hold your hand?"

Hobie smiles "I'll always say yes to that" he lifts his palm over yours, drawing small circles over your wrists. "This okay?"

"Mm-hmm" you tilt your head, watching as his large hand envelops yours. He places a small kiss over your knee, heat blossoming on your face from the affection.

"It'll be okay, yeah?" He stops himself from resting his forehead on your leg. Instead he watches as you look at him through half lidded eyes. His heart aches for you.

You answer him by squeezing his hand three times. He knows what you meant, so he squeezes back gently, three times, then a small kiss over your fingertips.

"Do you want me to carry you to the bed? This old couch won't do you any good" you know he's not scolding you, genuinely concerned how the bumpy couch isn't helping you.

"Okay"

He stands up, delicately holding onto you. He's cautious of where he's stepping, as to not jostle you too much. Hobie lays you gently on the bed.

"There, let me grab you another glass" before he could leave, you grab his hand, stopping him from his tracks.

"Stay? Please"

"Of course" he goes around the bed, laying next to you. You shuffle closer to him, your fingers intertwined, helping you fall asleep, knowing when you wake up he'll be right next to you.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thank you for reading ❤️ please consider reblogging if you enjoyed ❤️

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #spider punk #hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk x gn! reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #description of pain #fanfic

151 notes · View notes

melverie · 1 month

Text

Aaahhh, thank you so much for the tag @king-a-queen!! 💚💚

15 Questions Tag Game

01 - Are you named after anyone?

First name: nope Second name: yep, after my grandma

02 - When was the last time you cried?

About a week ago bc I was laughing too hard Also techinically this morning. My eyes just started tearing up a bit while I was still in bed & staring against the wall. I guess that white wall was just tugging at my heartstrings

03 - Do you have kids?

The only children I have are my OCs <3 My current beloved OCs are Aym, Marchosias (💖💖💖💖💖), and Baal; all for Obey Me

04 - What sports do you play/have you played?

So as a kid, I took MSE (self-defense) classes, I did ballet for a short while, and I played badminton. But now I'm not really doing much sports anymore. I'm occasionally working out in a sad attempt to stay healthy but that's...not working out all that well because I keep forgetting about it lol. That being said, I walk anywhere as long as it's a walkable distance away (to me, that's around 90min max), idc it's the European mindset. Der Fußbus hält überall :)

05 - Do you use sarcasm?

As if I would ever smh what are these accusations

06 - What is the first thing you notice about people?

When I pass strangers on the street, I try to look for little moments that bring them joy. That being said, 90% of the time I'm just lost in my own thoughts & have completely tunnel vision, so imagine noticing anything 😭 When I first meet people tho, it's usually the way they look at you, which tbh is a little ironic because I sometimes just cannot look people in the eyes NFDHSKGJHKSDLGS

07 - What's your eye color?

They used to be blue, but now they're more of a greyish green with a few brown spots in them

08 - Scary movies or happy endings?

Okay endings, actually! Where characters don't get the happy ending they were hoping for, and some things are still a little messy, but all in all things are okay and they finally get to breath again. Though I guess that's kind of a happy ending? lol

09 - Any talents?

My newest talent is being able to imitate the cry of an owl. My sister explained it to me earlier & once I got it to work I've been doing it non-stop until I got lightheaded 😭 Worth it tho Other than that, being able to teach myself the basics of a lot of things within a day (one of the upsides of ADHD), as well as abandoning a lot of my projects after a while because I suddenly decided to start a completely different one (one of the downsides of ADHD) I also have a real talent for writing angst. Ask any of my closer mutuals, I keep terrorizing them with my ideas (love you guys 💖) And finally: telling myself that I'll go to sleep early & then it's 5am

10 - Where were you born?

in Germanyyy fun fact: I was born more or less close to a town that has a store called 'Mephisto' lol

11 - What are your hobbies?

being insane, obviously 💚 some of my mutuals can surely attest to that lol No, but in general I enjoy writing & drawing, as well as, uhm. Randomly deciding to take up multiple really time-consuming projects, such as the OM card rec thing I did that I still need to update ahhhh, my Obey Me OC & MC ask game that originally had 200+ questions before I cut it in half out of fear of it being too long, half of my side blogs, and SOOOO many other things. <- or in short, being insane 💚 I also really love cooking & baking! Side note, if anyone wants an easy chocolate lava cake recipe, you just need to ask... 👀 Also lately it's just been romancing Thanatos in Hades because I randomly remembered that I hadn't done that yet

12 - Do you have any pets?

I used to have clownfish and a starfish, but other than that I've never had any myself. I love the dogs I dogsit with all my heart tho, and there is this cat that I sometimes meet on my way to work. She always runs up to me when she sees me and won't stop meowing until I start petting her, and last time she climbed onto my lap (I sat down in the middle of the sidewalk, I did not care lmao), she's literally the sweetest 😭😭 I also ring the doorbell for her whenever it rains so she doesn't have to stay outside lol

13 - How tall are you?

1,68m or 5'6 if I got the conversion correct lol

14 - Favourite subject in school?

Heavily depended on the teacher, but generally art class because we usually got to work on whatever we wanted with and listen to music. Also English in 9th grade, math in 10th and German in 11th because the teachers were great

15 - Dream job?

I've been thinking of translations in general/software localizition for a while now. I just love dissecting all the small differences between languages (D.D.D.s being called 'D3' my beloved), + there are so many invisble choices made when translating. You'll always lose something because every language has its little quirks and a different mindset that can't be translated directly, but you'll also gain something that the original version didn't have. It's an art form in itself, and I really love that <3 The other job that keeps popping into my mind is event mangement. I already get to organize a ton of things for my uni since I'm part of the student council for one of my two majors. It's exhausting, but also really rewarding when you have people come up to you afterwards to tell you how much fun they had!

No pressure tags for a bunch of people, hehe >:) @alpine-forget-me-nots @healersadjust @misc-magic @sweetbrier2908 @reblogs-are-the-love @shootingstarrfish @mjoria @too-much-gacha @layphie @katboykirby @ghostlyyraccoon @lost-in-lamentation @bagofwetmice @glamphantasm @wizardthesai @mellonyheart @arlatthan as well as anyone else that wants to join!

#tag game #15 questions tag games #if anyone tagged would rather answer with a different blog of theirs then go ahead! i have main/side blogs figured out for most of you lol #also if some would rather not get tagged again in the future lmk!!

47 notes · View notes

heyidkyay · 4 months

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twelve

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: This part took way too long to write. Had a bit of writers block ngl, but I managed to get it done last night when I couldn't sleep. Be prepared for a load of fluff but also some surprises. It's a good chapter, I enjoyed writing it once I finally got into it! But I'm also sorry for long wait! Hopefully the next will be along soon.

> Just a reminder! We left off on the red carpet with Mouse and Matty:) You can look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 22m ago GFC Charity Event! The gals are currently live and interviewing The 1975! So far we’ve had Jamie Bell, Peter Capaldi, Dylan and Jordan Banjo! 2TIME @/user1 WHAT was that? 102 @/user2 chemistrychemistrychemistry Ugh! @/user3 SHE COOKED FOR HIM?? Soloveme? @/user4 What’s going on at this event?? It’s all over my feed😭 MILK @/user5 Screaming this is honestly all so mental Parisin75 @/user6 Wait so they’re friends now? Or is something else happening?? > Too_shy @/user7 Last time I checked but he seemed so happy on the carpet, and he wouldn’t look into the lens at all. His eyes were always focused just above it, either on Adi or Mouse! >> Drumonmepls @/user8 Couldn’t have been Adi!! She was to the left of Ross on and off screen!

***

It was days after the event that things seemed to finally settle again. For Matty, at least. Me? I was still getting the odd DM and tweet here and there, but I couldn’t complain, not with how it had been at the very start. Hordes upon hordes of people had come to make their opinions known on the stance of Matty and I’s ‘sudden’ friendship; fans had taken to both Twitter and Instagram, they’d called into the show, and a few had even turned up outside of the studio.

Matty had been helpful throughout it all though, mainly just finding ways to take my mind off of it and sending security down to the building just to ‘be on the safe side’. It’d been a nice gesture, sweet even. But had also meant that his management team had cracked down on him and the band, cooping the lot of them up in a recording studio and pressing them to finish up the album they were currently working on.

That in itself hadn’t affected me much, the whole Matty being distracted by work thing, because it had happened around about the same time that prep work for the Christmas period had kicked in. Which was basically a time where Adi and I focused on pre recording a few shows so that we could sail smoothly into the new year.

This year it had been hectic, to say the very least, but Finn had been a Godsend. Offering to pick up Teddy from nursery on the days when we were filming late and even keeping him occupied on the one weekend that we’d lost the previous day's audio- which had been a fucking nightmare.

Today though, was finally a day where I got some time to myself. Well, myself and Teddy, seeing as I’d completely and utterly missed him even with only having been gone a few extra hours in the day than usual. Still, the kid was my little ball of light and without him I’d be utterly lost.

“Alright there, Teds, what’re you drawing?”

It was a Sunday, the 17th to be precise, and so we only had a week and a bit left in the lead up to Christmas. I’d spent the morning wrapping most of Teddy’s presents before he’d woken and demanded sustenance- which, fair enough. But he was always a little moody whenever he first woke up. Bit like me, I suppose. And so, whilst I’d started cooking him his breakfast, I’d settled him down at the table with some paper and pens to keep him distracted, an old album by The Cranberries playing.

“Plane.” The toddler retorted easily enough, tongue poking out one side of his mouth in utmost concentration.

Grinning at the small action, I settled a cup of juice before him and then stroked a hand through his unruly hair. “Is that for mémé then?”

Teddy hummed, nodding his head at the odd angle it was resting at. I chuckled, always enamoured by his every little thing.

“That’s brilliant, bubs! I’m sure she’ll love it.” I assured him softly, trailing my fingers through his hair one last time before withdrawing to finish up with cooking.

“How many days?” Teddy asked once I’d plated everything up and taken my seat beside him at the table, immediately I knew what he was on about- seeing as he’d only asked the same question a dozen times a day since the last time we’d phoned my mum.

I pretended to think about it long and hard. “Um… about this many days.” I said, holding up six fingers.

Teddy’s brow instantly furrowed as he set about leaning as close as he could get over the tabletop to point towards each of my fingers. “One, two, three…”

“Six!”

I beamed once he’d finally got it, clapping along with him. “So good, you clever boy! Six- six days til mémé gets here!”

Teddy repeated the words in a breathy murmur, grinning gummily back at me as he wiggled in his chair. Then it was just “six” over and over again for a short while.

I tittered faintly to myself, shaking my head before we went about the rest of our breakfast in much the same manner.

It was almost ten to eleven when the doorbell went and I frowned at the thought of who it could possibly be.

“Mum, door.” Teddy informed me, still so invested in his colouring. I hummed softly in turn, wiping my hands before getting up to go answer it.

“Remember to put the lids back on.” I reminded him about the pens, tucking his hair behind his ear as I rounded his seat, “I’ll just be a sec, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

I smiled softly at his monosyllabic reply, listening to him mumble to himself as I padded my way into the hallway. From here I could just make out the darkened shadow standing on the other side of the door’s paned glass and flicked through a mental list of who it could possibly be, wondering if I'd forgotten anything that was supposed to be happening today. But I reckoned it could just as easily have been Finn dropping by for an impromptu visit, or Adi even.

Flicking the latch and pressing down on the handle, I opened it up only to blink at the figure that stood before me. They gifted me an impish grin as they pushed away from the door’s stoop and onto steady feet.

“Figured I’d just pop by, say hello.” Matty mentioned by way of hello, fiddling with an unlit cigarette he held between his fingers whilst I continued to stare back in surprise, “Studio’s been booked for the day, so I managed an easy escape.” He added when I made no move to reply, “Thought we could grab a coffee or something- if you ain't busy, that is.”

He tacked that last bit on in a rush, as though he was beginning to understand why I was so silent. He’d really, really caught me off guard here.

“Er, I mean it’s a bit out of the blue and that. Should've really texted, I know. But I figured I'd try my luck.” He blundered again, shifting awkwardly on my front step now, looking enough out of place for it to finally blink me out of my stupor.

“I-” I went to say but was ultimately interrupted by another voice from further inside the flat, one that was approaching on toddling feet all too fast for me to react to its sudden presence.

Matty’s eyes bulged a tad at the little face that poked its way out from behind my knees, and mine followed when it finally hit me what was actually happening.

“God, sorry! You just- it’s- I just wasn’t expecting you.” I fumbled, arms reaching down on impulse to pick up the toddler by my feet. I forced out a heavy breath before plastering on a big smile for Teddy, who only seemed to have eyes for the curly haired man staring back at him. “Um, you wanting to come in then? I can do tea, I think. Coffee, even.”

I didn’t really give Matty much of a choice in the matter though, in truth, because I was sailing away to escape the sudden scenario that had started on my doorstep, simply so that I could wrap my head around it all. It was just as I made it back into the kitchen that I heard the door rattle close behind us though and then, as I'd perched Teddy back in his seat, I glanced up to find that Matty had in fact accepted the offer of a warm brew.

It was strange to watch it all fall into place for him, his eyes straying over toys that littered the livingroom floor, the tiny bike which sat in the corner, the star-chart that hung on the cupboard above the fridge, all of Teddy’s artwork and clothes that had been thrown about haphazardly over the last day or two.

I swallowed around my anxiety then, not really sure how I felt now that I knew that Matty finally knew. Because see, I had never really been sure. Teddy wasn’t much of a well kept secret amongst my longtime listeners but I didn’t go flaunting pictures around or mentioning him at every turn. For safety reasons and privacy’s sake. So I hadn't been too certain on whether Matty knew of him or not, having noticed that he’d failed to ever mention him in our texts or calls.

“Um, sorry for the mess. Work’s been a nightmare, and this is my first proper day off in weeks, you know? So." I shrugged a little helplessly, looking out at all of the chaos, then decided to pull on my big girl trousers and trek through this mess like I did everything else in life. “Tea, then? Or coffee?”

The small cough that escaped Matty’s throat echoed around the room once he’d found purchase in the kitchen’s entryway and his voice was tinged with a slight rasp when he finally spoke, “Yeah, uh yeah, please. Coffee.”

I smiled mostly to myself as I turned away to refill the kettle, my mind still whirling but finding relief in Matty’s obvious shock too. Whilst it began to boil though I had nothing much to occupy my mind with, so I decided to putter back on over to the table where Teds had started back up with his drawing and attempted to relax my shoulders.

“Go on, sit down,” I said to Matty, pointing to a chair as I tried to steer us back into easier waters, “Feel lucky you just missed breakfast, this one tends to get it everywhere.” I chuckled lightly in hopes to fill the quiet I was met with.

Teddy glanced up at me then with a prominent pout, obviously not too pleased about my comment. “No.” He argued and I heard Matty snort as he finally took a seat opposite, leaving Teddy to act as the buffer between us both.

“Uh, yes.” I fired back at the toddler, but little good it did me when Teddy only seemed to maintain his avid disagreement.

“Uhuh. I eat it all today.” He reminded me, lips pushed out as his brows climbed higher up his forehead, leaning against the table’s edge again on his elbows. “See?” He added on, pointing a finger over towards where a sink full of soapy dishes now laid.

I smiled, unable to do anything but, though it was Matty who actually replied to him, which both surprised me and put me on immediate edge. “I mean, the little guys got a point. If you ate it all then there can’t be any mess, right?” He directed that last bit towards the little rugrat attempting to evade all guilt and I paused in wait to see how Teddy would respond.

Teddy appeared wary for a moment, blinking over at Matty in a startle, probably having not expected to be roped into a conversation, before his lips settled into something more like a grin. “Right!” He mimicked with a short nod of his head, his ‘r’ sounding more like a ‘w’.

Matty all but beamed at the sudden attention he’d drawn and continued to do so once Teddy started prattling away to him at a hundred miles an hour. I just left them to it, listening in as I padded back over to finish making the drinks.

It was only after Matty had just about knocked back most of his coffee that Teddy grew tired of talking and asked if we could do something fun, eyes drifting over towards where we often kept his wellies. I knew just what fun he was looking to find.

I conceded easily enough, seeing as it was both his day as well as mine, and smiled with a gesture of my chin, “Go on then, but brush your teeth and find some proper clothes, then we can head on over. Alright?”

Teddy’s head shook up and down in rapid succession, already bolting up out of his seat to make a run for his bedroom. Matty wore an inquisitive look once it was just him and I, both of us sat on opposite sides of the table.

“The park.” I informed the singer, fiddling with the handle of my now empty mug whilst my eyes kept sliding back and forth from the counter to Matty himself.

The man simply hummed and leaned back in his seat, I was forced to watch on as he cast his eyes about the rest of my kitchen, taking his fill now that he had a moment to finally do so. I swallowed and struggled with the unforeseen worries of what he might see, what he might think of it all.

I wasn't well off, by any means. But I had a decent income, enough to provide for Teddy and I, as well as live comfortably. Though if the radio show suddenly dipped and we lost most of our viewing, then there’d be a whole different story to be told.

Even so, it was a much different life to the one Matty lived. That much I knew. So it wasn't too strange of me to wonder whether or not it met any of his standards. And how it alone made me feel.

“How old then?”

The question startled me somewhat, enough that I blinked and looked up at him without thought. My brows furrowed a tad and so he continued, “Teddy- was that it?” And at my nod of confirmation, he smiled at me for another answer, “How old is he?”

Caught off guard still, I gaped for a second and then forced myself to reply, “Um, four, he’ll be five soon enough.”

“Wow.” Was what Matty replied with in a soft murmur, his head moving in an ever so slight nod, “A good age though.” At my questioning look, he chuckled, “Or so I’ve been told.”

I hummed, mostly amused, then fiddled with one of the many pens Teddy had left behind at the table.

“They’ve all been good so far- the ages.” I said to him, rather stupidly, and grimaced around a low laugh at myself, “Just, I mean he’s a good kid, is all.”

Matty was smiling at me when I glanced back up, his eyes squinting with the strength of it. He knocked his fist on the table lightly, “Seems it. Just wish you’dve mentioned him sooner.”

I frowned at that, lips pursing as my nose wrinkled. I didn’t much like the way he’d phrased that last bit, because it’s not that I wasn’t proud of Teddy, I was always showing him off, constantly even. But I also didn’t feel as though everyone had the right to see to that. “Yeah, well he’s not a secret I’ve kept hidden. It’s just safer mostly.”

It was Matty’s turn to frown then, seemingly offended by the offhand remark. “What and that includes me, does it? You think that I’d be a danger to him?”

I stared back at him, brow dipped a tad, eyes squinted. Because I hadn’t meant to hurt him, far from, though could he really blame me for being cautious, for having wanted to keep Teddy away for as long as I had?

“No,” I answered him, and it was an honest one, “But only now, after having known you as long as I have. I mean, you can’t really be surprised by the fact that I didn’t mention him in the beginning, Matty. I hardly knew you! I’d only ever had the picture that’d been painted of you in my head, I didn’t want that around him.”

He scoffed quietly at that and I heard the way his boot kicked out under the table as he shuffled further back in his chair to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah and what about now then?”

He had me there, I supposed. I sighed and raised a hand to rub at my tired eyes, this wasn't a conversation I had planned for yet, let alone on a morning like this.

“It’s hard, okay? It’s hard to know when to introduce him to new people, he’s only ever really known those closest to me, and after that it’s just been his nursery teacher and the handful of kids in his class.” I explained, watching Matty and hoping he heard the truth in my words, “And you’re this fucking celebrity people love, you’ve got places to be, fans to meet! I never once thought that you’d stick around, not for as long as you have at least. Or that you’d eventually pull me into your life.”

He looked up then, expression so carefully made. “And that’s a bad thing?”

I folded in on myself a little at his question. Unsure.

Matty rolled his lips together and dipped his chin in a slow nod, “Right.”

“Matty, it’s not like that.” I tried.

He was quick with his reply though, all but leaning into the table’s edge now, “Then what’s it like, Mouse?”

He hardly ever called me Mouse, from the day we’d met it had always been Squeaks.

I dragged a hand over my face and then into my hair, perhaps in hopes to bide my time, but mainly because I felt cornered. How was I supposed to tell Matty how much I valued him? His chaotic presence in my life, his texts and calls, his friendship. It was something I hadn’t known I’d needed, but he’d come along and surprised me. He had stuck around, even when I thought he wouldn’t, and he wasn’t asking for anything more than just my company. He didn’t have an ulterior motive, some trick up his sleeve. Or at least that’s what I believed.

“Does this change things, knowing I have a son?” I heard myself ask him, it was a genuine curiosity but I also had to know. I didn’t want to be strung along or let Matty into Teddy’s life like I had Finn and Adi, only for him to then up and leave when he finally grew bored of the normality of it all.

Matty simply stared back at me, those brown eyes of his narrowed as they flittered back and forth between my own, his lips parted slightly as he thought the question over.

“Do you want it to?”

And that hadn’t been the answer I was expecting.

Instantly I shook my head, dropping the pen so that my hands could fall limply into my lap. “Of course not, I like having you around, Matty. Me keeping Teddy from you has nothing to do with that.”

He continued to watch me.

Then finally he conceded with a prompt nod and I felt myself breathe in. “So, the park. Is there a spare invitation going?”

I let the air go in a stilted chuckle, smiling at the common ground he’d gifted us but also at the image of Matty messing about in a playground of all places. “Yes, yeah, ‘course.” I assured him, “Just, be prepared for any puddles, alright? He will soak you if you're within five feet of the splashzone.”

Matty finally laughed too, this soft thing I hadn’t really ever heard from him before, not in this way at least, and then grinned, whirling around in his seat when a stomping toddler came darting back into the room.

“Wellies ta!”

My eyes fell closed as I released another heavy sigh, “Please! Teds. Remember? Please, not ta.”

Teddy merely blinked back up at me and so I decided it would have to be a battle picked for yet another day.

“Fine, go get them then.”

Matty snorted unhelpfully, which brought him to Teddy’s attention once more. “Need help with ‘em, little man?” He asked, raising a brow at me in hopes that it’d be okay.

I swallowed but ultimately nodded, I couldn’t not when Teddy’s curls started bouncing wildly with the nodding of his head at the question.

And so, I watched them go, Matty taking Teddy’s extended hand, praying that I hadn’t made a massive mistake here. Hoping that somehow Matty would prove me wrong and stay, for a little while.

–

The days after Matty’s impromptu visit came with little to no fuss, it was only when the man wasn’t in the studio that was on the phone to me- and by extension, Teddy as well, who’d taken quite the shine to him. Who could’ve known, hey?

Still, it was a massive change of pace. For me at least, I hadn’t managed to get a read on how Matty felt about it all, but I had yet to worry over it. Mostly because of the Christmas period and how stressed I’d been.

“Finn, I swear he’s driving me out of my mind!” I complained down the phone to my best mate, the thing was currently perched between my shoulder and ear whilst I attempted to throw my hair up into a half-arsed bun, if only to keep it out of my face. “The mess! I mean, it’s like a tornado’s gone and ripped its way through my flat!”

“He’s four, babe.” Came Finn’s unhelpful response. I huffed.

“Exactly! Four, how can someone so small create such a massive mess?” I stressed, trying to clear away as much of the clutter my living room was presently made up of as quickly as I could. “Mam’s gonna be here in,” I glanced hurriedly over at the clock on the far wall and felt my anxiety spike, “Just over an hour! I can’t let her walk into a bombsite!”

Finn laughed at that and so I scowled in retort, even if he couldn’t see me through the phone.

“Finn!” I admonished.

“Alright, sorry! It’s just, she’s your mum, babe. She won’t care what the flat looks like.” He tried to soothe me as he moved about on the other side, doing whatever it was that he was doing. “Why’s he made such a mess anyway?”

I gritted my teeth as I stepped on yet another rogue piece of Lego and just dropped down to start rounding everything and anything I could possibly see into a great big tub.

“He’s excited, wanted to look nice for when mam shows up but also wanted to showcase to her all of his drawings and sculptures.” I told him, grimacing at the penstained action figure I picked up before tossing it amongst the heap too. “I’ve been in the kitchen mostly, cooking for when she arrives, so I didn’t really bear witness to the fact that he’d taken my permission and flipping run with it! You should see my front room, Finn.” I shook my head for the umpteenth time since I’d walked in and blinked at the chaos I’d been met with, “It’s a proper tip.”

I was given a resounding chuckle once more and simply decided to slump there on the floor, glad to note that most of everything had now been packed into the box. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.

“Finn, I don’t even want to go and see what his bedroom looks like as of right now. I can just picture how his wardrobe’s been overturned and all of his clothes have been tossed about the room.”

I forced myself up onto my feet then, halfheartedly listening to Finn’s reply. I still needed to sort myself out before anything else and that thought alone stressed me out further.

And of course! Of course it would be in that exact moment that the doorbell went.

“Fuck.” I mumbled to myself, but found my feet already taking me towards the door. I paused only briefly by the mirror to catch sight of the mess my hair was in and tugged it free in hopes it’d help somewhat, “Listen babe, sorry for all my whinging but I’d best go. Door’s just gone and I’m guessing it’ll be that parcel I’ve been waiting on.”

“Cutting it pretty late there.” Finn said and I couldn’t agree more. It was the 23rd, Christmas was now only days away and still I’d yet to receive it- even after having ordered it well over three weeks ago!

“Fucking hell, tell me about it,” I groaned, opening the door up to be met with the sight of a big wrapped box blocking my vision. My forehead wrinkled in utter confusion, “Um, Finn? I really am going to have to call you back.”

“Why, what’s happened? Don’t leave me hanging! Who is it!”

The parcel dropped down an inch then to reveal a familiar grin and shining eyes.

“Surprise?”

I hurriedly hung up the phone and shoved it into my back pocket, the feeling of bewilderment unable to override the instant worries that washed over me about what a state I must've looked. But I bullied those thoughts back down, ignoring the massive part of me that was currently screaming at the entire situation, for whatever reason I couldn’t even begin to really understand, cause it was just Matty, right? And instead propped myself up against the doorframe.

“What’s this then?” I asked, unable to help my smile when he was looking back at me seemingly so pleased with himself.

“Christmas, in’t it?” He replied all too easily, shaking the rather large present he held in his grasp to further the point.

“I can see that.” I chuckled, shaking my head a little at the picture he made, all bundled up on my front doorstep practically dwarfed by the box he’d brought along. “I just thought you were headed home today.”

He shrugged, an action that was made funnier by the large parcel, but continued smiling, “Meant to, just couldn’t leave without seeing you lot first.”

I blinked, startled by his words. But grinned when he merely widened both his eyes in exaggeration.

“It is fucking freezin’ out here, you know! Could invite a mate in.” Matty reminded me, so I hummed, mulling it over. But he wasn’t one to give up too easily and bribery appeared to be his best tactic here, “I’ve got presents. So open up or they’re going back.”

I narrowed my eyes in turn, “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but darling I would.”

I found myself grinning at him again, something I tended to do whenever he was around it seemed. There was just something about him, I supposed.

He went to take a step back then and I relented all too easily. “Alright.” I laughed, opening the door up wider to allow him in. Matty all but jumped over the threshold, bringing the cold in with him, and whilst he set about shaking off his coat I went to close the door behind him, only to be stopped by a bright red coat.

“Oh, thanks.” I said in surprise to the postie that managed to time his arrival so perfectly. “Thank you,” I repeated for good measure, shooting my head up from the packaged parcel he’d handed me, “Happy Holidays!” He grinned in return, already taking off back down the steps and parroting the same sentiment to me.

I finally managed to shut the door after that and was met with a ruddy-faced Matty, who was wrapped in a big jumper I was immediately jealous of.

“Last minute present?” He wondered with a smirk and I waved him off.

“Ordered it weeks ago, got here just in time.”

Matty hummed and turned back to glance down at the big box that now rested against my hallway radiator, level with my hip it seemed. “Where is the monster?” He asked me, using the name both he and Teddy had taken a liking to.

My brow furrowed slightly. “You really didn’t have to, Matty.” I said to him quietly, looking down at the present he’d gotten for my son.

He was having none of it though, rolled his eyes in fact and hunched over to pick the box up again. “Shut up.”

I snorted and couldn’t help but bite back, “You shut up.”

“Real mature, sweetheart. Ain’t you parents meant to be all boring and nice?” Matty quipped as he wandered his way into my living room, I breathed in a sigh of relief when I followed behind and found that my efforts in cleaning hadn’t been in vain.

“Ha ha. Should’ve taken up comedy.” I retorted to him, fixing a few pillows that sat askew on the settee, something to which Matty also rolled his eyes at.

“Nah, band makes more money.” He answered easily, like he’d thought about it before, as he glanced about for the best place to put the box.

“By the tree if you want, or you can leave it next to the chair so he’ll see it when he barrels in.”

Matty laughed and went with the latter. “You been alright then?” He asked me, taking the time to glance at all the holiday cards that rested on the mantelpiece nearby.

“Yeah,” I sighed with a small smile, “Hectic but that’s expected, isn’t it?”

He shot me a warm grin, nodding. “Christmas, babe.” Was all he replied with, which was fair enough, then he went to reach out to pick up a picture frame of me and a very very tiny Teddy. “When was this?”

I stepped closer and smiled down at the photo, “I was still in hospital with him then, my midwife took it.”

Matty hummed, looking down at it with a soft smile. It was then that I heard a thump sound somewhere down the hall, so I released a weighted breath and forced myself to step away, “I’ve got to go check on Teddy, he wanted to dress himself this morning and he’s been way too quiet.”

With another laugh, Matty let me go, nosing through more of the photos and cards which sat along the shelf. Something I could understand, he’d only been here just twice before, but even still, he didn’t care for how blatant he was with his nosing.

I took the parcel with me as I went, slipping into my bedroom to unwrap and grin down at it. It was Matty’s, which is why its arrival had been so perfect. I'd begun to think that I would have to give it to him the next time I saw him. But now was as good a time as ever.

In a rush, I pulled out a gift bag and some coloured tissue paper, having no time to actually wrap it, and plopped it in. Making my way into the next room to see where Teddy had gotten to.

When I pushed his door open further than it was, I was only slightly surprised by the state of it. The rugrat in question, though, was stood by his wardrobe door, pulling an array of funny faces in its mirror.

“Oi mister, what you been up to?”

Teddy startled slightly at my voice but was giggling when he spun around to spot me. “Got dressed myself.” He stated, pointing proudly at the t-shirt he’d managed to pull on.

“Hm, so you have!” Taking in the jeans and tee combo he’d picked, I then grinned over at him, “Looking good, boyo. Could be a little stylist when you’re older, you know!”

Teddy gave me one of his impish grins and then darted over towards me. “No!” He dragged out in reply, hands clutching at my legs now he was near, his sweet mischievous face staring up at me, “Gone be like you.”

I had to press my lips together then to keep the strength of my smile at bay, his words making my heart swell. “You little charmer.” I chuckled, running a hand through his unruly locks, “Come on though, you’ve got a visitor.”

His eyes widened as he jumped back to rock onto the balls of his feet. “Mémé?” He asked excitedly and I almost felt bad about it not being her, but I knew how much Teddy had also grown to like Matty in the recent days so I wasn't too fussed.

I shook my head, “Not yet, soon though. But somebody else came to see you.”

Teddy’s eyebrows rose as he thought about who it could be and so, knowing that we could possibly be here all day, I started to steer him out into the hallway.

“Finny?” He asked, then, “Santa?”

I snorted, then shook my head to both. “Nope and no. Why don’t we just go see, hey?”

And with that I pushed the door to the living room open wider and watched on as Teddy gasped at the sight of the curly haired frontman standing by our settee.

“Matty!” He all but squealed, practically catapulting himself across the room to make a dive for the man.

Matty laughed, though also seemed startled by the reaction he’d garnered. He swept Teddy up though, all the same, and jostled him around before settling the toddler on his hip, eyes bright with something when they glanced over at me. I smiled, a heavy feeling settling itself in my chest.

“Alright, mate? What you been up to?” Matty asked Teddy, falling back onto the cushions behind them and stationing the toddler next to him.

Teddy replied in earnest, excited to tell Matty all the tales he had stored away since the last time they’d spoken, which had been a few nights previous over a FaceTime call.

I shook my head in amusement and trailed over towards the kitchen, silenting motioning to Matty to see if he wanted a drink. The answer, as always, was yes and so I set about brewing him his usual, along with my own, taking the time to clean myself up a bit too.

By the time I walked back in, Teddy had just about finished telling Matty all the details of his last day at nursery (they’d had a party), which I’m sure the man had already heard about, but who acted as though it was the most brilliant story he’d ever been told.

“One coffee.” I said in greeting, placing the two mugs onto coasters before taking a perch on the armchair by them.

“Ta.” Matty replied, grinning madly when Teddy cackled gleefully and repeated the word over and over. I rolled my eyes at the pair of them and took a calming sip of tea, unaware of how much I’d been in dire need of it. Whoever claimed Sunday’s were a day of rest, were liars.

“He spotted it yet then?” I asked aloud, already knowing the answer seeing as how I didn’t currently have a bouncing Teddy on my hands.

The toddler’s face wrinkled in confusion and he shot his head over to see me, I grinned from behind my mug. “Huh?” He sounded.

Matty hid his next snort well but then hummed too, pushing forward in his seat to grab at his coffee. “Oh his present, you mean?”

That had Teddy’s head spinning. “Where!”

“Manners, bubs.” I reminded, and Teddy nodded so quickly I was honestly a little worried about the whiplash he might face before his eyes were back on Matty.

“Please, present?” Teddy asked, pouting up at the curly haired man with a sudden urgency, his words butchered by his missing bottom teeth.

Matty chuckled, glad for the fact that he’d put his coffee back down in the toddler's haste, and then gestured his head over to the right. “You mean that one?”

Teddy’s eyes, if even possible, widened further, eyebrows reaching the tips of his curls and mouth dropping open as he finally spotted it.

“For me?” He gasped in awe, shuffling down Matty’s leg to approach it, all of his movements now slow as if his shock was stopping him from reacting typically.

I leaned forward to watch on and Matty did the same, obviously nervous for Teddy’s reaction.

“For you, mate. Was walking by this shop the other day and spotted it, thought of you.” Matty told him seriously, smiling too whilst he wrung his hands together, foot tapping anxiously away, though unaware of it.

Teddy looked back at him, chewing on his bottom lip carefully, taking two more steps before he was touching the wrapping. He oohed at it softly to himself but I caught the way Matty’s face brightened at the sound.

“‘pen now?” Teds asked, his eyes drifting away from the gift, towards me and Matty both.

Matty looked over at me then too, the same question echoed on his face. I nodded with a small smirk, “Go on.”

Teddy’s eyes lit up and he spun back around to marvel at it once more, “W’ats it?”

The snort that escaped me at his ask went unnoticed by the pair as Matty moved to join the toddler on the floor. “Gotta open it up and find out, I ‘spose.”

Teddy’s grin brightened and then he fell to his bum so that he could pull the present closer. “Help?”

Matty blinked at the request and I was witness to the way his throat bobbed before he nodded, “Yeah, sure mate. Here, pull this, alright?”

Teddy did as instructed, tugging on a small opening in the wrapping.

I noted as he began to tear away at it, how oddly wrapped it really was, meaning that Matty had probably taken the time to wrap it himself. My chest tightened again at the thought.

“Box.” Teddy announced once all the wrapping paper had been discarded on the rug behind him, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from outright laughing at the befuddled expression he gave Matty.

The man had no qualms though, simply chuckled at the question and leaned in closer to force one side of the cardboard box up a little, “Gotta open up that too, monster.”

Teddy’s brows drew together in concentration as he followed Matty’s lead, forcing the lid open more before a loud gasp escaped him. Matty went back to wringing his hands, fiddling with the rings on his fingers whilst I moved over to the settee to get a look too.

My expression faltered at the sight of the beautiful gift Matty had given Teddy. Inside the box rested a guitar in an incredible shade of deep blue, it was small enough for Teddy to hold whilst also being big enough for him to grow with. Even with my obsessive love for music, not once had I ever really thought about buying Teddy such a thing, not one of this calibre at least. It must've cost a fortune.

“Matty.” I whispered, but the man didn’t even spare a look my way, eyes trained on my toddler, trying to garner his reaction.

“You know what it is, mate?” He asked after a moment and Teddy’s little head dipped in a slow nod. Because I knew he knew, he danced around constantly pretending to have one in his hands whenever we had the tele or radio on. Where there was music blaring, there would also be a Teddy playing air guitar.

“‘tar.” Teddy stated in a soft voice, both Matty and I smiled at the way he said it, but the former nodded, pulling the instrument out of the box so that Teddy could get a closer look.

“Cool right?”

Teddy nodded silently again, reaching out a hand to carefully touch the wooden neck, blinking and reeling back when a string strummed. Before he then giggled and reached out once more.

Matty seemed to slump in relief, evidently glad that Teddy liked it. But I’d go as far to even say he adored it, never had he ever been so gentle with anything.

“Have you got something to say to Matty, Teds?” I prompted, ignoring the way my throat caught at the emotion I felt. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it.

Teddy pulled his eyes away from the guitar to gaze up at Matty as though he was something other. I merely blinked at the reaction and before I knew it Teddy had thrown himself into Matty’s arms, startling the man a tad. Matty welcomed him after a second though, glancing over the toddler’s head to share a look with me.

“T’ank you.” I heard Teddy muffle into the collar of Matty’s jumper then, actually saying the words this time. It seemed Matty knew what that meant too, because he tightened his hold on Teddy’s waist a little.

“You’re welcome, mate.”

The rest of Matty’s visit was used to teach Teddy a bit about the basics of a guitar, managing to play an E minor and get started on an A chord. Teddy listened to Matty with rapt attention, barely sparing anything else a second glance, which was startling for a toddler, let alone Teddy who was constantly go, go, go.

Watching them was all too lovely as well. For someone with such a cool front, Matty seemed to melt around Teddy, succumbing to that of the boy’s charm and easy going nature. It was sweet to see, surprising but endlessly sweet. Had me losing track of time, in truth. Which is why I jumped and cursed the way I did when the door finally knocked.

“Mémé!”

111 notes · View notes