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jakekiszkasleftnutsack · 2 years

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Fan Service - Chapter 2

Josh Kiszka x f!reader

. . . . . . .

Read Chapter 1 here

Summary: After a passionate night in Josh’s dressing room it’s time to camp for another round of DIG. What could the universe possibly have on deck to ruin the third concert in the Michigan lineup?

Warnings: 18+ content minors DNI, swearing, feelings, pining, fingering, dom!Josh, unprotected sex (advised against), oral sex (m and f receiving), praise kink, general roughness, etc.

W/c: 7.5k

A/n: Here it is. It’s been a minute since I’ve been this motivated to write so the timeline is a little wonky, just pretend it makes sense ok. I appreciate everyone who sent me requests and suggestions for this series, and special thanks as always to my gresties for cheering me on. Again, apologies for my shameless self insert. Hopefully we like where this story goes, let me know your thoughts! Thank you for the continued support, i love you all!

Edited by the lovely @gretasamfeettt

Vibes: Something About You - Level 42 and golden hour - JVKE

. . . . . . .

Being born and raised in the Midwest has made you mostly impartial to the cold. You’d spent many a chilly night around dying campfires, many afternoons skiing down powdered hills, and even more mornings trudging through snowbanks just to get to school. Spending ten hours trying to sleep on cold concrete with only a tent to protect you from the early March wind and snow, however, is turning out to be a little out of your comfort zone.

You don’t really mind though, you’d happily suffer through any amount of discomfort to see your favorite band, and having your two best friends with you does dull the pain somewhat. It had been their idea originally to camp out for the slew of shows happening in your area, so you all bought your tickets months in advance and spent the days leading up meticulously preparing. The vibe has been a bit off ever since you rejoined your group the night before, haphazardly dressed after a romp with a rockstar, but they seem excited for you all the same.

Now that you’ve had time to register the events of the night before, you’re scared shitless. You were living in the moment, but when time resumed its normal pace, the reality that Josh Kiszka picked you is almost too much to bear. You were hesitant to give up too many details when they tried to poke and prod them out of you, even if it meant they would believe you to be mildly full of shit. Hell, you can hardly believe it yourself, but there’s no part of you that’s willing to risk breaking his confidence. The experience you shared with Josh was special to you, and you will not be souring it by any means.

You look down at your phone and reread the last text he sent you, ‘I better see you there.

Josh does own a cell phone and uses it quite often, to your complete surprise. After you rejoined your friends the previous night and began the drive to the next city on your roster, you texted your name to the number he gave you. He texted back immediately to wish you a good night, and when morning came and you wished him good luck he returned with that little crumb.

He wants to see me again… Of all people…

He’s probably just being polite…

“Smile for Joshy!” You extend your arm to snap a selfie, posing in line outside the venue to send him in return. The bundled faces of you and your friends are doing their best to smile through clenched teeth and not look frigid in the Michigan winter air.

The caption reads ‘Camping out just to be sure you do’, and you send it off after gaining an approving nod from everyone.

“I’m not convinced this isn’t some sort of elaborate ruse,” your best friend, Quinn, jests after dropping the smile she forced for the picture. “If you’re Josh Kiszka’s sneaky link now then how come we don’t have backstage passes?”

“Ohh my god. I’m not some clout chaser, I can’t just ask him for things ‘cause he paid attention to me once.” You scoff slightly at the insinuation. How could you possibly ask that man for anything after he already gave you the time of day?

Your answer must not be satisfactory, prompting a retort back. “Okay, but he gave you his phone number, and he’s still texting you? If he didn’t like you he would’ve just let you leave. I saw the way he watched you get whisked away, it was like a fucking romance movie.”

He did give me his number, some random one-night stands I’ve had haven’t even given me their phone numbers afterward. Maybe there’s a point there..

The thought feels so ridiculous in your mind you barely want to let it take root. He’s already taking up so much of your headspace, letting the idea that you might have a chance with him seems much too dangerous of a concept.

“Would you stop getting my hopes up? Everybody knows they don’t have groupies… plus he just slept with me the one time, it didn’t mean anything.” You trail off, suddenly disappointed with yourself for remembering that small fact.

Disappointed about what? Getting attached already? Pitiful.

“Who said anything about being a groupie? I’m sure that’s not the reason he doesn’t show all his fuck buddies off to the masses.” Nina, the third part of your little trio, chimes in. “If I had known that getting beat up in the pit was the way to bag a Kiszka I would’ve knocked my own ass out in front of them a long time ago.”

“Why does everyone keep saying I got beat up?!”

. . .

Not too much later, your phone lights up, his name is on the screen accompanied by a silly picture of him you had saved. Highway Tune plays loud and clear through the speaker, but all you can do is stare as your fight or flight response kicks into gear. Beyond unprepared for an event like this, you turn your hand to show your friends the screen with a deer in headlights look on your face.

“Speakerphone, bitch. Now!” Nina screams at you frantically as the opportunity slips away.

Fuck.

With an appropriate sense of urgency, you clear your throat and swipe across the glass to answer with a cute but casual “Hey!”

“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?” In your experience, no introduction means business. Even when separated by the phone and however many miles, his slightly acidic tone gives you chills.

“Camping! Ya know, for the barricade!”

“You mean you’re outside the damn arena right now?” He sounds relatively calm in contrast to the intensity of his words, it’s hard to tell if he’s really angry or not.

“Well yeah! It’s how you get to be up front… you do know what goes down at your shows, right?” you giggle in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Y/n… How long have you been out there?”

“I don’t know… some hours…” You dart your eyes to the girls, silently begging them to not say a word about how you drove through the night on no sleep from the previous show to get right back in line for another.

“It’s freezing fucking cold outside, absolutely not, I won’t have it.”

What the fuck does that mean?

“You won’t have it? It’s what everybody does, honestly, it’s fine I have my friends with me. It’s part of the whole experience.”

A contemplative sigh comes from his end of the line followed by a long pause.

“Josh?” You hear some distant voices and shuffling around coming from whoever he’s taken a second to speak to.

“Your friends can come too.” He finally answers.

“Josh, what are you…you’re not sending another goon to kidnap me again, are you?”

“Yeah Peach, stay put for me alright?” The line beeps dead, leaving everyone's jaws dropped at the audacity.

After a moment passes, Quinn is the first to say something. “So. Peach, huh?”

. . .

Faster than you had expected, a wide guy in a baseball cap with a scruffy beard approaches you and your friends in line. You instantly recognize him to be the same guy that rescued you from the pit and kept you like a present for Josh backstage the night before.

“Hey, it’s you!” You exclaim, relieved to be seeing a somewhat familiar face.

“Nice to see you again, Miss y/n. Mr. Kiszka asked me to show you and your friends inside.”

Slightly panicked glances are being shot all around amongst yourselves as you pack up your stuff, unsure of the unorthodox situation that won’t stop unfolding. Gossipy murmurs and glares are shot your way from those in line who may have been snooping, but once your blankets and chairs are picked up he leads you around the side of the building to a door out of sight from the other campers.

“What’s your name?” You ask him as you follow his lead close behind. “Since you know my name I don’t wanna keep calling you security boy.”

He chuckles and shoots a smile over his shoulder. “I’m Trevor, but security boy is fine if you like it.”

“Okay, security boy. How long have you worked for Josh?”

“I’ve been head security for the band for a couple months now.”

“I thought they just used venue security, I never see them out and about with bodyguards.”

“You’re half right. I mostly oversee the local security teams at the concerts and events, but they’ve been needing personal security more than usual lately. Besides, I’m pretty much an assistant at this point with how much they have me run errands like this.”

“Oh, so I’m just another errand, huh?”

“I’m more like your babysitter at this point, don’t you think?” You share a laugh, and instantly tension begins to ease.

You arrive at a small dressing room, which he unlocks and opens up for your group to drop your coats. One by one he hands you each a lanyard with a badge attached, indicating your new security clearance.

“You can warm up and get changed in here, I’ll come to get you when it’s time to head on out. I’ll leave ya to it.”

Josh has him ‘run errands’ a lot, I hope this isn’t something he’s used to…

“Wait…” Standing in the doorway once your group has started unpacking, you fight with yourself for a moment about whether you should ask the million-dollar question. “Is Josh… does he do this a lot? I mean…”

It rolls out with the most pathetically apprehensive voice you’ve ever had the displeasure of speaking, upon hearing it you wish you could take it back. He looks at you for a moment but ultimately seems to take pity on you and places a hand on your shoulder. “No ma’am, he doesn’t.”

He seems earnest enough, and you believe him as much as two strangers can trust each other in these kinds of circumstances. His gesture is enough to soothe a bit of the self-doubt that hasn’t left you alone for about 24 hours.

“Thank you, Trevor.” He touches the bill of his hat and tips it with a gentlemanly nod and half a smile before turning away, leaving you to close the door behind him.

. . .

As the lot of you are getting ready, putting makeup on, and doing your hair, you hear a knock on the door followed by Trevor’s voice. “You ladies decent?”

“Yeah, come in”. You answer without looking up from the flick of eyeliner you’re expertly applying in the mirror.

The door clicks open and the honey-smooth voice floats in before the man himself. “How’s everything coming along in here?,” he says, casual as can be. You flicker your attention up to catch his cocky smile when he enters still in his street clothes. You can’t help but chuckle a little to yourself as you watch your friends attempt to stifle their reactions, but ultimately fail while tripping over each other to meet him.

He greets them politely, asking their names and apologizing for any discomfort in rooting you from your spots in line. As any good fangirl would, they decline his apology and thank him for the opportunity to be inside instead.

“The guys and I were all really worried about everyone out there in the cold, but we know you’re all so dedicated, we couldn’t stop you if we tried.” They agree with him, giggling shamelessly at the charm that seems to come so naturally to him. Watching him interact with fans after knowing how he acts in private is almost comical.

“We really do appreciate you setting aside a spot for us, we know you’re really busy.” You pipe up for the first time.

Gross. You really couldn’t think of anything better to say? Idiot.

He locks eyes with you from where you’re standing against the mirror at the back of the room but says nothing, apart from the way his lips twitch when he takes in the sight of you. Even the blind would be able to notice the instantaneous effect you have on him.

“We didn’t think you guys really knew each other” Nina blurts out while the two odd girls out watch something unspoken bounce back and forth between you.

“Oh no, we definitely know each other. Isn’t that right y/n?” You know the question is rhetorical, but you tip your chin slightly in agreement anyway, a blistering heat behind your eyes. “Would I be able to get a few minutes alone with your friend here, if you guys don’t mind? She’ll join you in a moment, Trevor is just out in the hall to show you to some snacks.”

They nod and scurry out of the room, offering supportive glances, a suggestive wink, and a pair of smiles from behind his back as they file out quicker than you can protest.

His entire demeanor changes when the two of you are left standing alone in the confines of the dressing room, free from anything that could act as a buffer. He was gracious and polite with your friends, clearly putting on a little bit, but you’re with a different person once he shuts and locks the door behind them. Just like the other night, the tension in the surrounding air is palpable.

Don’t make a fool of yourself. Don’t be desperate and weird. You can do this y/n, be confident and breathe.

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to do all this, Josh.” You set down your eyeliner on the counter behind you, doing your best to appear nonchalant despite your heart doing its very best to pound its way out of your chest. As exciting as being in his presence is, you’re also terrified to your core. The energy shift is so seamless you have no room to be rattled by his next move.

Josh shakes his head as he strides towards you, as if hearing the silliest words ever spoken into existence. He closes the gap between you in a few short paces, trapping you in place against the counter. There are barely a few inches between your bodies but you’re steadfast in your cool as a cucumber facade, no matter how unconvincing it may be.

“As much as I appreciate the time you’re willing to put in, I wish you had told me you were gonna wait out in the cold. I could’ve saved you so much earlier.”

“I didn’t really think that was an option. I don’t expect any special treatment.” You long to reach out and touch him, to tear down the invisible barrier holding you back. It’s scary, like there’s some sort of rule you’d be breaking if you did. You’re just trying to be respectful, when in reality that’s the last thing you want to do.

“You should. I can’t give it to everybody but I can give it to you.” Your cheeks flush red forcing you to look down and away from him to avoid getting too flustered, only for him to raise your chin again with one finger to keep your eyes on him, ensuring you really hear what he has to say. “You’re not part of the general population anymore mama, you’re my sweet peach, remember?”

In the wake of his genuinely sweet albeit loaded comment, a wave of emotion returns to blindside you, shattering your smoke screen of indifference like a freight train.

Does he crave me in the same way I crave him?

Could he ever feel anything close to what I feel?

I idolize and ache for him, but what does he think of me?

He’s already been inside me. He’s already had more of me than most other men ever have.

I’ve earned his favor and attention, why am I so quick to reject it?

Does he pity me?

What if he just pities me…

“I’m scared.” You choke out. Without a high to hide behind there’s nothing to stop your bleeding heart from exploding right here in his hands. He catches up with your train of thought though and is so quick to reassure you it might as well be second nature.

“Y/n, what are you scared of?” his eyes flicker back and forth as he searches yours.

“That none of this is real.” you feel you should elaborate but you can’t. Any attempt at trying to explain the thoughts that have been gnawing at you would come out like word vomit. Some preconceived notion you cooked up in your paralyzing anxiety is telling you not to act like his stardom has any effect on you. You’ve wrapped yourself in a cage of barbed wire made of your own cowardice, only to be cut open if a single wrong move is made. He probably goes out of his way to avoid girls like that, so you exercise the minimal restraint you feel capable of to keep it short. Out of fear, of course.

Ever so delicately he takes your hand, brings it to his lips, and ghosts your knuckles along the baby soft skin that rests there. In a breath he leaves a kiss, focusing on the spot for a moment before returning focus to your wet eyes.

“Last night I asked you to trust me and you did, and I took good care of you. Do you still trust me?”

You nod your head.

“Then trust that I’ll continue to take care of you, okay? This is real, I’m real. Look…” he bares his teeth over the back of your hand and play bites it, making you gasp mostly in surprise but you laugh it off crudely, your heart flutters. “See? You’re real too, Peach.”

Of course, Josh would never miss a beat. Of course, all it would take is a teaspoon of vulnerability to prompt him to keep the floodgates from giving way completely to whatever bullshit mess you could concoct.

Stop being so foolish.

You sniffle away the remnants of what could have been a colossal breakdown and crack a smile at him through batted lashes. “Peach.. Is that my name now?”

He nods, moving his lips against your skin again. “I like it, think it’s cute, don’t you?”

“Mhm, it is… I could’ve braved through the cold ya know, hands down.”

“Would you stop complaining every time I try to rescue you?” he snorts in a teasing way that makes you giggle and bite your lip like a little kid with a crush. You try not to get distracted by his chestnut brown eyes, shining bright.

“Anything for you.” For good measure, you toss in a flirty wink with your same line from the night before.

“Again with that shit, babygirl.. I oughta spank you for getting me worked up before a performance. God, you are relentless!”

Finally, you decide to stop fighting the magnetic energy pulling you toward him and lean into his frame. “And I don’t even have to say please?”

A choked moan barely escapes him, and he plays it off with a fake as hell cough that only serves to make you giggle.

“Fuck…” he gives you another quick once over in your concert outfit, smoothing over where he’s wrinkled it in a few spots and breaks out in a smirk, still holding your chin in place to keep you from looking elsewhere, “You look delicious, Peach. Are you me this time?”

The outfit in question just so happens to be a top modeled after the jumpsuit he wore in Los Angeles during the Strange Horizons tour paired with a miniskirt. Pure groupie behavior, yet again. You do your best not to roll your eyes at yourself.

“So, I didn’t plan on meeting you when I picked out my-“ in very Joshua fashion, he just can’t wait until the end of your sentence to swoop in for a bruising, searing hot open mouthed kiss that almost makes you stumble. Your lips mash together sloppily but you don’t care. You just want to feel like he has to have you, maybe he really does.

“How’s that bruised peach doing?” His words are barely intelligible at the lowest end of his register and doesn’t wait for an answer before reaching for the hem of your skirt. “Show me.”

You let him spin you around and hike up your skirt around your hips so he has full access to the panties adorning the purple blotches on your skin. There hasn’t been quite enough time for you to inspect the damage made by your fall, but he’s careful to avoid it.

“I know they’re pretty ugly.” you try to avoid thinking about it, instead focusing on his hand that’s made its way between your legs and is exploring the lacy edge of your panties. Another part of you is hoping the edge of the counter won’t crack under your iron-clad grip on it, purely keeping your knees from losing their integrity.

“Hush, sweetness. Look.” his free hand wraps around you to grab your chin, forcing your gaze upon the mirror you’ve found yourself facing. “See how beautiful you are? Nothing could taint that.”

Right then, he slips his hand under the lace and dives into your slit, already wet to the touch. You’re not sure why watching his hand move obscenely against you has you feeling so embarrassed, but when you see your own cheeks turning rosy you try to turn and protest the position. “Josh..”

“Don’t look away. Watch me.” he holds you still, pressing two of his fingers into you with a squelch. Watching yourself was one thing, but seeing the look on his face when he makes contact with that heavenly gummy texture is something that will be seared into your mind forever. It’s close to a look of pain, like he can’t stand just how unreal you feel to him.

“Good God, y/n.” he stays tucked inside for a few pumps of his wrist before leaving your warmth to press those drenched fingers to your lips. You don’t need a command this time to open up and lick them clean.

“How can I possibly focus on putting on a good show when you’re out here distracting me? Saboteur, that’s what you are!”

“And how am I supposed to enjoy the music I paid good money to see if you’re just gonna be making me horny? Are you going to repay me?”

“Well… you got me there. Maybe if you behave.”

. . .

Now, typically when one has backstage passes to a concert, that usually grants access to back stage. It’s right there in the name. However, you camped with your friends for however long before Joshua stepped in, and your hopes have been set on snagging a spot at the barricade. It’s not something you’re all too fond of giving up on.

Once Josh had released you from his grasp and excused himself to get ready, leaving you with a kiss on the cheek as you part ways, your friends returned with the news that the doors were about to open. It took some light convincing on your part, but Trevor agreed to let you into the pit early so you can secure a spot up front. Watching from backstage the night before was really cool, of course it was, but this is an experience you’d been dreaming of for just as long. Josh Kiszka is not going to be the reason you miss it.

Standing where you are now, directly in front of where he’ll be standing shortly with the gardens gate key hanging high above you, your stomach is firmly planted in your ass. The openers were amazing, adding to the intense build up of the curtain dropping any minute now. You feel almost more nervous now than you did the first time around, but this time it’s a different breed.

When the curtain finally falls and the shrieks of the girls around you dampen your senses, he’s right where he’s supposed to be and instant relief washes over you. Chest puffed out, wide stance, head held high, utterly ecstatic. You can trace his eyes scanning the audience, taking in the sheer mass of the crowd and every face that he can make out. Until they land on you. It’s subtle, but you can tell he wasn’t expecting to see you there, cheering for him as he so deserves.

“Give me my money’s worth, baby!” you don’t care if he can hear you or not, you’re not even sure of the words that spewed out. Everybody knows the most unhinged thoughts sometimes slip in the presence of these men anyway.

He lingers on you with the smuggest expression, a hint of deviance mixed in as well, and licks his lips before diving into the lyrics of their first song.

Yeah, he heard me, that little fucker.

Song after song you hype him up, screaming his name and blowing him kisses, singing along to every single word. Each and every time he lands in front of you he does something ridiculously out of pocket and slutty. Whether it be thrusting his hips, licking his lips, or growling into the damn microphone, he makes eye contact with you every single time.

Every. Single. Time. Without fail.

Oh my god. He’s actually taunting me…

“Who’s misbehaving now, Joshy!?” you scream when he lets a particularly moan-like cry sound out through the arena. It’s your last straw when he sticks his tongue out at you in response. All you can think about is how badly you want to see that tongue somewhere else, and how you want to make him pay for his actions when you finally can.

He’s incorrigible

As the end of Safari Song dawns you recognize the familiar rhythm that marks the beginning of Danny’s drum solo. A fluttering feeling returns to your chest with the realization, because the drum solo also happens to be when Josh rides the shoulders of a security guard to pass out roses.

When he reaches you, he places a rose purposefully in your hand and you try not to swoon when he winks at you from his high horse. He’ll be coming back around shortly to have some face-to-face time with his adoring fans, but with how hard he’s been throwing his sexuality around the stage for the whole world to see you quickly try to think of something that will make him swoon back.

Like a wave, the screaming and shuffling of young women starts to crawl back in your direction, and you’ve finally settled on your move as he appears in your line of sight once again. Instead of blindly reaching for him hoping for just a touch of attention like everyone else, you make eye contact with him as he approaches and hold out your hand open faced. He seems to think nothing of the out of the ordinary gesture and reaches out. In a split second, you fake him out as he’s about to grab your hand, surpassing his grasp to reach up as far as you can.

“Hi baby” is all you can think to say, but it’s more than enough. You can make out the words ‘Hi Peach’ move across his lips with no accompanying sound. Somewhere in the process he catches on and bends just slightly to close the gap for you, never once breaking the eye contact you’re trying so hard to hold. As you reach his face you caress his cheek, using your thumb to slightly grace his bottom lip until he’s pulled out of range.

The exchange barely lasted more than a few heartbeats, but the impact is profound. You didn’t believe it was possible to actually see stars in someone’s eyes until the whole universe manifested in Josh’s. There’s remnants of a blush on the apples of his cheeks when he hops back on stage, and you do your best to vacate the butterflies from your stomach as the show carries on oblivious to your secret.

. . .

After the show ends and the house lights come up, you take your pictures and exchange socials with the girls around you that had bonded with you between sets. Then, once everything has substantially died down, you exchange quick glances at your friends before hopping over the barricade and flashing your security badges at the men who immediately try to stop you.

It’s a funny feeling, floating around backstage aimlessly. You eventually are able to latch onto the sound of Trevor’s voice and follow it until you see the boys huddled around talking, already changed out of their concert attire. Sam and Jake notice you before he does, but you tap Josh on the shoulder anyway. When he turns he smiles like the sunshine boy he is, rushes to you without hesitation and wraps his arms around you, picks you up, and spins you around like you’re old friends in an airport who haven’t seen each other in years.

“Holyyy shit, Peach! Did you get your money’s worth?” he cries gleefully as he sets you down and squishes your cheeks between his palms, knocking loose a few rhinestones you had placed there.

“And more! You acted like a proper slut out there!”

“Thank you, thank you, I try my best. I didn’t expect you to be right in front! You almost had me for a minute there, mama.”

“Yeah, well you deserved it.”

“Ahem,” Jake slaps a hand down on Josh’s shoulder and turns his attention to you. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Dear brother, why don’t you introduce us to your friend?”

You take matters into your own hands and thrust yours out to him, which he shakes warmly smiling a devilish grin to match. “Hello Jacob, I’m y/n.”

“Ahhh so this is the dreamboat that kept you so preoccupied last night!?” Sam interjects, pulling you away from the twins and into a hug that you were not prepared for but accept happily anyway.

“Hi Sammy, sorry for keeping him from his important frontman duties.”

“Well shit, he’s not that important.” he laughs, jabbing a playful shove at his eldest brother's shoulder, prompting a scuffle to ensue that you carefully step away from. In taking a step back you bump into Danny, who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed watching the encounter unfold.

“Oops, sorry.” he catches and steadies you, keeping you from taking a tumble when you try to correct yourself but instead misstep.

I just cannot stop being clumsy for two seconds, can I?

“You sweet, sweet angel. You never have to apologize to me Danny,” already being in close proximity, you wrap him in the biggest hug you can manage. “That was my bad anyway.”

“Oh, wow. You’re so sweet, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Ditto, my friend.” you try not to think about how that was the best hug anyone has ever given you.

You introduce your friends to the rest of the band one at a time and return to Josh’s side, allowing everyone to get their hugs in, some lingering a bit longer than they should. Everyone mingles with each other discussing the events of the night, laughing about things that were thrown on stage and signs that were made until you notice Josh’s arm snaking its way around your waist to pull you flush against him.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he whispers in your ear, “To the hotel this time?”

If smiles were contagious the one that splits your face in that moment would have everyone infected.

“Love to.” you nod to emphasize your point then turn to say your goodbyes to Quinn and Nina, who are probably just fine being left in their present company. The last thing you need is a thousand missed texts and calls from them if you were to just disappear into the night. Josh does no such thing and makes his move to whisk you away rather hastily.

Trevor, who was standing close by, escorts the two of you outside, blocking you from the view of a small huddle of girls waiting for a glimpse of the boys. You must have stood around talking for too long based on how many of them have accumulated. You make your way to a blacked out car waiting with a driver ready to go, and slide in as quickly as possible. It’s a short drive to the hotel but Josh insists on taking a moment to pick a song for the journey before taking off.

“Come on, Joshua” you roll your eyes playfully as he scrolls through an endless playlist.

“Shut up and hear me out, okay? The song choice is important!”

The first couple notes of Your Love play through the speakers, but he turns to you slowly to see your reaction like he just told you he knows your deepest darkest secrets.

“I thought you guys were supposed to have pretentious music taste?” you tease.

“What?! You don’t like this song? Who doesn’t like this song?!”

He breaks into song in the middle of the lyrics at the top of his lungs just for you, clearly to annoy you, but little does he know that everything he’s ever done is endearing beyond comprehension. You might have even been disappointed if he didn’t pull something that gave you just a tinge of secondhand embarrassment. His charisma and silliness are becoming and the way he’s singing, waiting for you to give in and humor him has you jumping in at the chorus, matching his energy. It’s the power ballad to end all power ballads.

I’m singing with Josh Kiszka. Josh is singing to me. What the fuck is my life becoming?

As the music fades out of the chorus and you’re left giggling at the antics, you look out your open window to feel the wind on your face and revel in the ambiance of the next song paired with passing street lights against a black sky. If you were paying attention you’d see Josh’s stare never left you. He’s watching you, fawning over you, taken by your beauty as you admire the night.

. . .

Josh lets you into the room first to venture in on your own, you look around briefly at nothing in particular until you hear the door close and lock. When he doesn’t immediately come to you, you turn to catch him subtly admiring you. He meets your gaze and reaches a hand out to you, his eyes are soft but set ablaze with determination.

“I don’t think you know how magnetic you are.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You take his hand, and once they’ve met he pulls you towards him, only to be turned and pressed against the wall at your back. He kisses you passionately just like earlier, you can feel the adrenaline thumping his heart against his ribcage so hard you think you could see it beneath his supple skin if you weren’t so occupied.

He grabs your ass with both hands and slides them down the backs of your thighs, guiding each one with an effortless lift to rest around his waist. You didn’t expect him to be so strong, but he cradles you with such care despite how ravenously his mouth moves down your chin to lap at your throat. In the darkest depths of your mind, you wish he would take a bite.

You grind your hips against the nearest thing you can, which happens to be his stomach, it heaves at the motion causing you to groan. Every little move you make elicits a clear visceral reaction, making the pit in your stomach tunnel deeper by the minute.

You want to tell him to tear you apart. You want to tell him to bury himself inside you and stay there until he’s contemplated his own existence, twice. All that you’re able to form into a coherent thought is “Joshy, more…”

“Making demands already?” he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You take no notice of his taunt and start pulling at his clothes blindly, making no real progress towards getting them off, to his amusement. An unmistakable poke makes itself known against your panties, which happen to be exposed to the air by the shortness of your skirt in your current position.

“Don’t ignore me, princess.” he runs his teeth along your collarbone as he digs into the meat of your thigh with his fingers, and a tortured moan vibrates out of you in return. “What do you say when you want something?”

“Please!” you practically scream “Dear God, please. Please just fuck me already!” The last of your self respect flies out the window, but to be fair it’s mostly been absent since he stepped out on stage to fuck the entire stadium.

One of his hands leaves your body, awkwardly and desperately reaching to unbuckle his pants, your faces pressed together cheek to cheek. You hold onto his shoulders on instinct to keep from falling to the floor, though he has you pinned so tightly between the wall and his own body you could let go of him entirely and remain in place. Your cunt pulses in anticipation when he ruts his freed cock against the thin material covering you. The wetness of your panties must be ridiculous, as the shaky breath coming from him feels beyond depraved.

“Y/n, oh my.. Fuck.” he slides it against the material once more while holding you still, using you in a sense, taking what he needs, and you wait patiently while he does.

Because that’s what good girls do.

He praises you while he reaches to pull your panties to the side and nuzzles his tip against your entrance. His head rolls back when he thrusts inside, leaving you huffing quick and shallow breaths against his ear, wisps of his hair tickling your nose as they’re blown around. He hums a sound of delight and settles into a comfortable yet delicious rhythm of bucking his hips up to meet your core.

“Who’s good girl are you? Say it.” he sounds like he might be close to his climax, so you humor him and fist your hand into his hair just how he likes it.

“I’m yours, Josh. I’m your good girl.”

I belong to you. I always will.

He whines at your response and his pace changes, speeding up but stuttering. He claws at your delicate top, tearing it at the neckline to rip down the middle, exposing your bouncing breasts to him in a way that would ignite the most perverted parts of any man’s brain.

“Are you gonna cum in me, baby?” you tighten your walls around him, approaching your own feeling of ecstasy.

He just nods fervently and adjusts his grip on your ass, his fingers wandering as far as they can to grab a handful until they’re almost touching in the middle. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t for him to use his grip to spread your cheeks, parting your folds to allow him an unobstructed reach into your depths. “I can’t fucking wait, I’m gonna…” he strains to speak, fucking into you to the hilt as he twitches inside you and cum overflows from your meeting point as he completely loses himself in you.

Carefully, he steps back with you still in his arms, retreating to take a seat on the edge of the bed. Still straddling him, you settle onto his cock which has yet to soften.

“I’m sorry, Peach. I got too excited.” his head rests on your shoulder as he catches his breath.

“No, don’t be sorry. I wanted you to cum, it feels good.”

“You can feel it?” the genuine surprise on his face when he looks up at you in pleased shock makes you giggle, and the sight of your delight makes him laugh along with you as he moves his hands to rub little circles over your hardened nipples.

“Yeah I can, I feel it right here… deep inside.” you place one finger between his hips in the center of his abdomen and press down, making him giggle uncontrollably and lurch to swat at your hand.

“No no no no, I’m ticklish!”

You hold your hands up in surrender, and after the laughing subsides, he lays back on the bed, sprawling out under your weight. “Well, I’m not gonna let you leave empty handed. Get up here.” he gestures for you to follow him by curling his finger at you and licks his lips.

You slide him out of you and shift your weight to move up his body until his head is between your legs.

“Other way, mama. Turn around.” you quirk an eyebrow at him but do as he says, carefully avoiding kneeing him in the face as you turn to face his feet. As you get into position, he rests his hands on the tops of your legs. “All the way down.”

You resist the urge to laugh. “I’ll crush you.”

“No you won’t, it’s ‘kay, I got you.” he wraps his arms all the way around your legs and lowers you until his extended tongue makes contact. Immediately he goes for the motions that spark pleasure in you the most, it makes you suspect that he’s learning your body quicker than any mediocre fuckboy ever has.

How his cock is still hard as a rock is beyond you, seemingly impossible, but makes for something to keep your hands busy with while he eats you like a last meal. You’ve spent an unreasonable amount of time on your own imagining what his cock looks like, having access to it this way feels like such a privilege.

Taking him in your hand, you lazily work your fist over him and lean just enough to leave kitten licks on the head of his cock, teasing it and coaxing flustered noises out of him that reverberate through your whole body. You rotate your hips the slightest bit, adjusting his position without breaking his concentration as he consumes you, sucking up the juices that leak out and lapping at your clit every time you let out a broken sigh.

“Josh.. don’t stop.”. That familiar building feeling begins its ascent when he sucks your clit into his mouth, leaving you mewling as you suckle on him helplessly.

Light muffled moans just cascade out of his chest with little words of affirmation peppered in, you swear you think you heard him say ‘so perfect’ under his breath, but you can’t be sure of his incoherent ramblings. After a few moments of enjoying the perfect pressure on your most sensitive parts, you let your orgasm wash over you, and you cum on his tongue that’s ventured back to your opening to dip inside and scoop out the spoils of his efforts. You almost stop him when he continues backward to spread your own cum around your other entrance, but the warm sticky feeling he swirls around with long languid strokes paralyzes you into a fucked out stupor.

“Feel better?” he sprinkles little kisses across your thighs, craning his neck to leave more and more as you swing your leg over to relieve him of his fleshy prison and collapse onto your back.

You manage a happy sounding ‘mmm’ when he climbs on top of you to kiss each of your cheeks and retreats to your side once you reciprocate with a peck on the tip of his nose and a smile. He relaxes into the bed with you, letting one hand fall into your hair, and you just lie together in your shared bliss.

. . .

You chat about nonsense for an unknown amount of time until the chill of the room forces you to finally stand up.

“Where are you going?”

“Just to the bathroom, gonna freshen up.” On the way there you grab your purse and your clothes, and thank your past self for having the foresight to pack a few toiletries in your bag the day before. As you’re about to close the door behind you, his voice stops you.

“Hey, Peach?”

“Yeah?” you poke your head back out into the room, he’s sitting up in bed and looking at you but you can’t quite place the look on his face.

“Will you… stay with me tonight? You can wear some of my clothes or I can grab some from Danny…” the concern in his voice could melt you, but you can’t tell if he’s scared of asking the question or what the answer might be. In a weird way though, it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

Be still my heart, he’s down bad.

“Oh, sweet boy. Without question.”

. . .

Josh has to be the handsiest person you’ve ever met. Not that you’re complaining. As you climb back into bed with him he executes no self-control and pulls you into his lap by your waist. If you’re being honest though, you’d let him manhandle you when and where he pleases. Especially now, when he seems unmotivated by sex and just holds you close, but still intimate since you’ve both opted out of pajamas for the night.

You’re absentmindedly wrapping his curly locks around your fingers in the comfortable stillness of his hotel room, surrounded by smoke from the joint he lit up, and listening to him tell you all about life on the road. A quick prompt of ‘what’s the next city on the roster?’ launched a rant that you have no plans on stopping. You really should be sleeping but to silence his perfect lips would be a crime.

Except for…

“Josh?” you accidentally interrupt at the arrival of an intrusive thought.

“Yes, sweetness?”

“When you said earlier that Im not part of the general population anymore, what did you mean?”

“I don’t know. I’m kind of… infatuated with you.”

Infatuated with me? Why?

He reads the puzzled look on your face and continues.

“The way you speak about things and carry yourself. I can tell you’re special. Not only that, but from the first time I saw you I was drawn to you. It’s almost like the universe brought you to my feet. Your face was all tear-stained and your eyes were puffy but you stopped and saw me, you really saw me. I thought ‘this girl is looking into my soul’. ” too stunned to speak, you stay silent and let him carry on. “Ever since then you’ve just kept on astounding me. So when I said that I guess it was me letting you know I want you around, I want you with me.”

Holy shit. What?

. . . . . . .

thank you for reading

if you’d like to be notified when i post, please fill out my taglist form

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#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #gretavanfleet #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet smut #gvf imagine #greta van fleet fanfiction #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka x reader #fan service #fan service fic

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none-duh-nah · 2 years

Text

JJK HEAD CANONS

Watching a sad movie

Yuji Itadori

This boy truly feels for the characters and will tear up.

will say things like “Ahhhhhh!! I swear to god you’ll pay for hurting those who are in love!!” “STOP STOP STOP MAKE IT STOP!!” *full on crying*

If you’re also a crier, both of you can lean on each other for emotional support.

Will curse the villain.

Imagines himself going through that and it makes him even more sad

Will hug you for emotional support please console my baby.

Will discuss alternative endings with you and will ask all the people he comes in contact with their opinion about the movie.

Puts it on his story that he watched the movie and will put heart break emojis and a pouting emoji “💔💔🥺🥺” as caption.

Satoru Gojo

At first he doesn’t really understand why something that never really happened and some one who doesn’t even exists makes you cry.

When he finally pays attention he understands the sentiments of the situation. But he’s still aware that its only a movie :/

Will wipe a fake tear and say “she didn’t deserve it” “why are you making me watch such sad things?!?!” “No please don’t diee!!”. He’s so extra lmao.

Celebrates the downfall of the villian. “AHAHAHAHAH you!!! take that you motherfucker!! rot in hell!!” “thats what you get ahahahah!!”

His antics lighten the mood and is all the consolation you’ll need....unless you wanted to feel sad for a bit more.

Low key ruins the mood by saying something funny and its kind of because he doesn’t want you to cry.

Discusses the movie with you and formulates theories and alternative outcomes.

Toge Inumaki

Cries.

Imagine him saying “shake 🥺” in a wobbly voice with tears in his eyes.

will hug you. Please comfort this boi.

His sadness gradually turns into hate for the villain and will probably curse the villain in his own language.

Goes to Yuta for comfort.

Slanders the villain on twitter.

Slanders the villain on reddit

Slanders the villain whenever he can

watches other movies of the lead actor/actress.

Yuta Okkutsu

Everyone expects Yuta to cry while watching a sad movie but he doesn’t.

Ends up being the moral support.

That person who tells you “its okay” “I’m sure it was for the better that they broke up” “I know. its heartbreaking but I’m sure they can be together in another life”.

Will let you hug him or hold his hand and totally won’t make fun of you while you’re soaking in the feels of the movie.

Megumi Fushiguro

He is also kind of like Yuta. He doesn’t cry about a sad movie.

One of those people who tells you “its just a movie” “they’re better of alone”

Tries his best to console you with such words :/

He means well though.

Will hold your hand and will give you a reassuring squeeze every now and then because he’s too shy to verbalize that he’s here and its okay.

Extra : he doesn’t cry but feels extremely sad if a pet animal dies in the movie. Tries not to frown and appear sad because he doesn’t wanna people to know that but will make comments like “the puppy shouldn’t have died”.

Kento Nanami

He likes watching sad movies and reading sad novels.

Doesn’t cry but the slightest look of distress and concern appears on his usually stoic face.

If the movie is a live action of a book that he’s already read, he’ll accidently tell you that something sad happens before it even happens and thus accidentally spoils it.

He feels bad for that and will apologize profusely.

Even if you forgive him he won’t forgive himself and will probably buy you something nice or something you’ve had your eye on for a while to make it up.

Will talk to you about the depth of the characters and the quality of the plot and all those cinephile things.

A/n : Hoi!! Hope you enjoy and please leave a like and show some love!! ^^

P.S : requests are open!

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

pleeeease write a blurb where the girl's a member of little mix and they do an award show performance, so tom keeps hyping his girl up and recording stories, just being a supportive bf 🥺

Thank you so much for requesting!! I’m so sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy it💞 I know you said you wanted a blurb, but I could never write short things, I’m always too damned detailed and shit, I’m sorry😭 Happy reading🥰

💌.

#1 Fan

Based on Little Mix’s 2019 BRITs performance of Woman Like Me, I suggest watching it to understand Tom’s insta story💞

“You’re going to absolutely smash it. All of you are.” Tom encouraged you. His large hands grasp onto yours comfortingly. The two of you were currently backstage at the BRITs in your and the girls’ shared dressing room. Tonight was a big night for you all, as you and the girls were nominated for two awards: British Artist Video of the Year and British Group of the Year. Additionally, the five of you were going to be performing your latest single, “Woman Like Me”.

To say that you were jittery was an understatement. You were terrifyingly nervous, it made you feel nauseous. Your stomach was a jungle of butterflies, fluttering nonstop as the time to perform grew closer and closer. You glanced at the clock and took a deep breath. The pink latex bra you had on felt as if it were getting tighter and tighter around your chest. Tom notices your slight discomfort and glances at the time, “How about we sit? You’ve got plenty of time to relax before you all go on stage.”

Tom wraps his arm around your waist and leads you to the couch in the dressing room. He settles beside you and moves his arm to rest across your lap, his hand interlocking with yours. You leaned back into the seat and watched the girls make last minute touches to their hair, face, and costumes. Tom squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. Your eyes shift to meet his warm chocolate brown ones. A soft smile grows on his lips, “Hey.”

You reciprocate his smile with a smaller one, “Hi.”

“What’s wrong? You rarely get jitters before going out on stage.” He asks you quietly so only you could hear. You stare down at your lap and fiddle with his fingers.

“I-it’s just different from what we’ve been doing lately.” You start, glancing at Tom. He nods for you to continue, “We just haven’t been doing live performances for such a long time. Like on tour, we’re usually performing in front of our fans. Not the entire British music industry or live television.”

Tom brings your hand up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss on it. “There’s nothing to worry about, darling. You—and the girls, are going to do amazing as always. You guys are the best at live performances. The amount of work and dedication you girls put into this is going to pay off, I swear, it’ll be a standing ovation. Everyone’s going to love it.”

You smile at your boyfriend’s support for you and the girls. You couldn’t help but peck his lips, to which he replied with a lovestruck grin.

“I’m just nervous that I’ll mess up. Like what if I miss a step of the choreography—or stumble on my words while I’m singing? Oh god, what if I forget the lyrics—“ Your eyes widen in horror as your head generated all the worst case scenarios that could happen on stage. Tom shushes you and gingerly cradles your jaw, being careful of the makeup on your face.

“Listen to me.” He levels his eyes with yours to make sure your attention is on him. “You’re not going to mess up or forget a line—none of that nonsense is going to happen. It’s a load of bullshit. You wanna know why? Because you’re (y/n) (l/n), a member of one of the biggest girl bands of the world, you’re my girlfriend, and you’re the most beautiful and talented girl I’ve ever met. You’re just overthinking. I know you, (y/n). Once the music starts on stage you get lost and start singing your heart out, the crowd just disappears from existence. It’s only you and the girls up on that stage and you’re going to make one hell of a performance. I just know it and so do the other people waiting in that audience.”

You stare at him, stunned by his sudden motivational speech. “Since when did you get good at pep talks?”

His mouth gapes at you, “Uh—stan Twitter? The fans? Is that seriously what you got from all of that?” You shook your head and wrapped your hands around his wrist. “No, I heard every single word. I guess I’m feeling a bit more better now, so thank you, Tommy.” You peck his lips again, despite the fact that your lip gloss was getting on his lips. Though he didn’t care, as long as he was kissing you.

“Still got some nerves?”

“Just a little bit. But I’ll be fine, especially with you in the crowd.” You interlock your fingers with his and glance at the clock. Only 10 more minutes till you were all going to perform.

Tom’s face lights up, “Front seat babe, I got the best seat in the house. I swear, I’m recording the whole performance on my phone. I already got Harrison to help me take Instagram stories for me at the same time. I need every angle.”

Jesy takes that as her cue to join the conversation, “My goodness, you’re such a dork.” She reaches her hand out for you to help you get off the couch.

Tom fakes a dramatic gasp, knowing Jesy didn’t really mean her jab at him. “I don’t know what you’re taking about, I’m just being a very supportive boyfriend. AND Little Mix’s number one fan.”

You dust your pink pants off and take a look at yourself in the full body mirror. You did a little shake too loosen your limbs out and did some breathing exercises. Tom lets you do your pre-performance ritual while he talks with the girls.

Perrie crosses her arms, amused at the younger Brit, “Are you seriously competing against a bunch of teenage girls to deem yourself as our number one fan?”

“Well are they dating one of the members of Little Mix? I don’t think so. You know who is? Me.” Tom gestures to himself sassily. “I even get to hear all the new music earlier than everybody else and get good seats at concerts.” He bragged while one of the members on your team helped you place your in-ears.

Jesy rolls her eyes before gesturing to the door, “Right, I’m calling security. Apparently we’ve got a crazed fan in our dressing room.” Jade and Leigh-Anne stifle a laugh at the bickering.

“You can’t kick me out, I have backstage access.” Tom defended himself with crossed arms.

“No seriously, babe. We’re about to perform in five.” You join the conversation, finally feeling your anxiousness start to fade away. Tom blinks at you, “I’m being kicked out by my own girlfriend?”

Jesy laughs at Tom, taking the piss out of his offended expression. A sly smirk grows on your face. You hold your hands out for him to help him off the couch, “If you want to record every second and angle of our performance, I suggest leaving now.”

Tom straightens out his suit before interlocking your fingers with his. He leans forward and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re gonna be great. I love you.”

You giggle, eyes beaming up at his warm brown ones, “I love you too. Now get back to Harrison, you’ve left him alone for too long.” Prior to leaving, he stops in his tracks and manages to gather you and the girls into a group selfie. He wishes you all good luck and leaves, making his way back to his seat in the audience.

While he walks back, he posts the selfie you all took onto his Instagram story with the caption, “Good luck to these beautiful ladies! Tune into the BRITs to see their performance, you don’t wanna miss it!”

He gets back to the table designated for you and the girls to see Harrison with an unamused face.

“What?” Tom asks him, confused at his friend.

“You left me here by myself, you div.” Harrison quips. Tom cringes and apologizes to his friend.

“You’re still gonna help me record the performance, right?” Tom sheepishly asked gesturing to Harrison’s phone.

“Yes, Tom, I’ve told you multiple times that I’ll record it.” Harrison held his phone up getting his camera ready. Harrison was about the rant about Tom and how whipped the boy was for you, but was sushed by his best friend.

“SHUT UP IT’S STARTING. HARRISON START RECORDING!” The lights dimmed while someone announced you and the girls. Harrison had his phone already filming while Tom held his phone up, ready to start recording things for his Instagram story.

Tom’s Instagram Story:

“HOLY SHIT!” Tom screamed behind the camera as he recorded the opening of the performance.

You and the girls were stood up while the dancers were on the floor thrusting up at you all. The camera flips to Tom, who’s mouth was agape, “THAT SHOULD BE ME.”

The camera is back to the stage, where you and the girls are doing the choreography with the chairs. Tom whoops loudly in the background and yells, “THAT’S FUCKING SICK—HARRISON LOOK AT THEM.”

“YESS! THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!” Tom screamed, thrusting his finger in your direction when your part of the song came on.

Tom zooms in on you as you strutted alongside the girls on the stage, he flips the camera back to him and a smirk is on his lips. He nodded before telling the camera, “That’s my girl.”

Tom forgot to turn his camera around and ended up recorded himself reacting to the performance. A proud smile is on his features while his eyes lit up as they followed you on stage. He leaned closer to Harrison and says, “She looks stunning, mate, my god.”

The stories cut to him and Harrison dancing and singing along to Woman Like Me.

The camera cuts back to you. You’re singing your part in the chorus and you hit a certain note that stuns Tom. He flips the camera to himself, a shocked expression on his face while he hyped you up.

The colored lights reflect onto Tom’s face, his mouth widens when he realizes you and the girls included a dance break in the performance. He flips the camera back, making sure all five of you were in frame.

Tom cheers in the background along with the audience when you and the girls finish your performance.

An unbreakable smile is on Tom’s lips, “There you all have it, I tried to record some parts just in case you all missed it—But that was probably one of the greatest performances they have ever done. I feel so honored to be here.”

Tom leans over so him and Harrison are in frame, “What did you think of the performance, Harrison?” Harrison grins, “I thought it was out of this world, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Tom’s face is hovered above the camera, “I just wanted to let you all know, that after tonight, I am officially becoming a Little Mix fan account. Follow me for more insider updates on Little Mix.”

You come back to the table to see Tom, Harrison, and the girl’s dates beaming at the five of you. You’re all greeted with congratulations and hugs. When you finally reach Tom, he crashes his lips onto yours and lifts you up.

You giggle against his lips, “Hello to you too.”

He pecks your lips twice more before placing you back down, “You were—I don’t even know how to describe it. You were fucking amazing up there.”

You whine, the blush growing on your cheeks while you hid your face in his neck, “Well, I couldn’t have done it without your little pep talk. So thank you, lovey.”

Tom waves you off while helping you into the seat beside him, “That was all you, darling.”

You and the girls settled down as the awards show continued on. You were drinking a glass of water and reached out to check your phone. Tom stops you, grabbing your wrist. You shoot him a look.

“No—just, don’t watch my Instagram story. Please.” He asks you with a sheepish smile. A loud roar of laughter is heard from across the table, making you all look at Jesy. She simply holds her phone up, screen facing you all, with Tom’s story playing on it.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland blurb #tom holland drabble #tom holland headcanon #little mix #jade thirlwall #perrie edwards #leigh anne pinnock #jesy nelson #ally’s request #Tom Holland

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neoheros · 4 years

Text

sneaking out headcanons feat. gym 3 squad ♡ — also this is all gonna be set in an au before or without the quarantine, so don’t leave your house please!! social distancing is important and people are dying!!

kuroo tetsuro

listen LISTEN

sneaking out is terrible and you should never do it because it’s dangerous and risky

and you as the woke and understanding gen z that you are definitely respected that

but , BUT , BUUUUT !

the minute your boyfriend snapped you a photo of him in his car with him rubbing his tired eyes captioned “couldn’t sleep, dreamt of u”

your morals were OUT THE WINDOW and now it was your turn >:// !!!

kuroo: i know it’s 4 am but what’re the chances you’d hop out for a quick trip to chick-fil-a 👉👈

you, purposely taking two minutes to reply: why are you still awake

kuroo, who knows you like the back of his hand: babe don’t lie to me, it’s embarrassing for the both of us x

so you agree !! because it was kuroo, the love of your life, the man you’d simp for, and he’s paying for food so hell fricken yeah

you throw on a hoodie, lock your doors, fluff up the bed to make it look like someone was sleeping in it just in case and you gently make your way towards your window

due to personal reasons, you want to pass away

you suddenly remember why you hated sneaking out and boy — the food kuroo was buying you better be worth it

the only way you were actually gonna get down from your two story house that idiotically doesn’t have a roof ledge was if you grab onto the tv satellite that latched by the sill

from your window you see kuroo’s car parked by the trash cans near your house and he’s got his windshield down signaling at you

mfer pulled out his phone from his pocket and waved as he zooms closer to your figure and he SMILED ?

you were in a dilemma?? and he had the audacity???? the fricken audacity???

kuroo, snapping you the vid he took: babe please you’re so cute you look like a tiny gremlin

you: had me in the first half, not gonna lie

it was a MOMENT for you !! but you just say what the hell and go for it anyways because you only live once apparently and sneaking out with your boyfriend at 4 am was better than sleeping

you grab onto the satellite ridge and you pray for mercy that it doesn’t make a sound or loosen up because if anyone found out you were doing this it was definitely kuroo’s ass on the line

while you’re struggling to get down, kuroo’s just in the car ??? laughing his ass off at your current state and you swear that he’s still taking photos

you get down on the cement safely and instead of him pulling up closer to your drive way naaaah he makes you walk to where he was at 😤

you, getting in the car: if i dump you by the end of tonight, just know that the only reason why i didn’t do it sooner is because i wanted food

kuroo, putting on your seatbelt: we’ll get back together in the morning, i’m not worried

so the two of you make your way to chick-fil-a, get food via drivethru and eat in the parking lot with the doors open and the windows down

he still looks very tired and before you even realize it it’s already 6 in the morning

you catch him yawn every few minutes and he always reassures you that he didn’t mind staying up this late :(

he’s baby

kuroo: lets get you home, are you gonna dump me yet?

you, kissing his cheek: no, i kinda love you

kuroo, less sleepy with a lazy smile on his face: aha simp

tsukishima kei

bro if you think he’s a goody two shoes boy who won’t ask you to sneak out at like 2 in the morning , you are so wrong

canonically, he is the most devious and logical character in the entire anime and if he wants to go out with you before the crack of dawn — he fricken will !!

he’s gonna be so sly about it too, nah, he gon make you think it’s your idea to sneak out

tsukki, texting you a tiktok of homemade shrimp rotini at 2:35 am: look what yamaguchi sent me

yamaguchi, who fell asleep three hours ago and absolutely is not in any state to send tiktoks:

so you’re there like ??????

bruv you were just tryna scroll through your twitter feed in peace, why the hell would he send you that like that’s so uncool

because now you were sleep deprived and hungry

you, close to tears: does your house in hell have a pool or

tsukishima, unnerved: i don’t like the concept of swimming

he’s gonna go on about how he didn’t realize what he did and how he’s kinda sorry for waking your hunger but you weren’t born yesterday !! you smelled BS !!

so you facetime him, ready to go off on how unsorry he is and you can already imagine the shit eating grin he must’ve had on

he answers after three rings and he’s in a MFING yellow hoodie with the dinosaur print in the middle, his hair neatly tucked and you just know that he’s got his keys on his fingertips

you, defeated: i’ve been played

tsukishima, heading out the front door: i deny all accusations

you’re not even upset though because this was a perfect opportunity to try the stability of your roof ledge and tbh? who wasn’t unreasonably hungry at 3 am

turns out climbing out your window was harder than you thought and you may or may not have gotten two new bruises on your wrist just by trying

safe to assume that you fell on your ass and since the universe has a particular hatred towards you, your boyfriend arrived at the perfect time to witness all of it

tsukishima: how are you gonna kiss me when you’re too busy kissing the ground

you, tears on your cheeks: if i wanted a bully instead of a boyfriend i would’ve SAID SO

when you get in his car, the first thing he does is ask if you’re okay though and he’s checking your wrists and hands for any scratches or bleeding because 🥺

tsukki: you’re such a clumsy idiot what the hell

tsukki, kicking down the pavement when you’re not paying attention: 💢🪓

you guys end up going to numerous places because most of the drivethrus in town were already closed

you see him get tired behind the steering wheel and you almost have the urge to offer to drive but you didn’t really feel like crashing his car any day soon so

you: lets just head to starbucks hm? get some coffee?

tsukishima, feeling bad because he knows you wanted to get food: we don’t have to

you, in love with him: if you say no i will willingly walk all the way to starbucks by myself , what , you think i won’t do it

so you guys go there and order a couple double shot espressos with a side of scones and muffins and the entire time you’re just trying not to shiver because name one starbucks you’ve been to that hasn’t been unreasonably cold huh i dare you

he notices this and he gives you his hoodie and ITS JUST THE SOFTEST THING OKAY BECAUSE HE’S COLD TOO BUT HE JUST WANTS YOU WARM

you: i knew it, you love me too huh 😌

tsukishima: unfortunately so

akaashi keiji

AKAASHI IS LEGALLY THE BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD !!

like he cannot be a bad boyfriend ?? it’s impossible for him to be so ?????? he’s just built that way ????

he’s the ultimate mixture of respect and self love , god was just like “let’s make this one perfect !!”

he’s DRIPPING in love each other juice and he eats kindness for breakfast so ha !

he physically cannot say no to you because he flat out adores you

( except when he feels like you’re wrong or being irrational to which he’ll politely correct you and educate you because that’s on what? that’s on having a healthy relationship ♡ )

so when you hit him up at 5:23 in the morning after a series of tiktoks that he has yet to see and react to you about, he’s kinda alarmed

but then again he’s also not ?? because let’s face it, at this point, he’s used to you spamming his inbox

the last thing you sent him two minutes ago was a text saying “bro just imagine this: you and me at a maccas drivethru with two oreo flurry’s and a box of 20 piece chicken nuggets — immaculate”

and you didn’t really expect him to reply?

it was five am and you were absolutely shit talking but when you saw his face time status go online you were just like ?????

akaashi, snapping you a pic of him under his covers with very tired eyes: it’s 5:27 am

you, sending him back a photo of you and the 2000 piece puzzle you spent the last two hours doing: that’s not a no 💅

he doesn’t reply and you’re not really upset by it because he probably just fell asleep and that was really cute to you so !!

but then two minutes later he’s facetiming you and you JUMP at the sudden ringing

he’s all tired and his voice is groggy and tight but he’s still smiling as he says “i’ll see you in ten”

YOU ARE !!!! PUMPED !!!!!

you won the boyfriend lottery , holy hell

now the only thing keeping you from seeing your man and the mcdonald’s sign was the eleven foot gap between your window and the solid concrete

you’d usually take the stairs but you just know that your mom would absolutely murder you for trying to sneak out when you should be asleep 💆‍♀️

it was either climbing out by clawing through the pipes or not being able to give akaashi a hug and you were not gonna let that second one happen

akaashi, after reading your two paragraph rant on how unnatural it was for your window to be that high: please be careful

you, haven’t slept in 32 hours: screw careful ! i embody elegance !!

in which elegance was screaming every time your pipes squeaked because dear mercy you did not want to die yet

akaashi, who just pulled up your drive way and is now seeing you almost fall to the ground:

you, on the verge of tears: please catch me

AND he does 🥺

it was a close call and he barely even made it to you when you chose to let go but HE DID ANYWAYS

you kinda fell on him rather than landing smoothly in his arms but that’s okay you were just glad you didn’t die

when you both get in his car, he just takes a hot sec to dust you off and ask if you’re okay and he’s so concerned please tell him you’re fine

he’s such a baby please i can’t believe this shit

the two of you end up in a mcdonald’s parking lot with doja cat blaring on the radio and you guys do your best to hold back your laughter as you eat

it was pretty cold and the sun was rising but honestly you couldn’t find the urge to care since the moment just felt so surreal

you: i’m sorry for waking you btw 🥺

akaashi, showing you his new lock screen which is the picture he took of you when he first saw you climb out the window:

you: i’m less sorry

bokuto koutaro

BOYFRIEND OF THE MFING YEAR

i accept no arguments, go cry about it

i literally don’t care what anyone has to say, bokuto is the only man ever ? he’s so deserving of every right on earth i’ll cry

the way that this is the third night in a row he’s stayed up til 4 am and he’s not even alarmed about it

like at this point he’s just accepted that he is nocturnal and that’s that on that !

before he actually had the idea to ask you to sneak out for him, he debated whether or not it was worth it

you needed sleep and you barely got any so when he knew you were resting he absolutely refused to message you :(

but then he also thought about how you would love to have a large dunkin iced coffee right now

and he was already getting ready for his morning fix so why not just ask harmlessly?

if you weren’t going to respond then he’d be okay with that because he knew that you were resting well

but if you were going to answer his consecutive texts with a positive reply then HE IS 🥺 over the moon

you, barely awake: can we get a venti triple shot latté instead , my caffeine tolerance is SHOT

bokuto, snapping you back within a minute: babe you are delusional if you think i’m gonna let you drink that

so it’s 5 am and your parents are in the other room asleep but you know that their jobs start pretty early so you had to get a move on

your room wasn’t that high from the ground to be honest, so you weren’t really worried about falling off

what you were worried about was how dizzy and out of depth the melatonin gummies made you because in order to fall asleep you took 3 and now that you basically forced yourself out of a self induced coma, your body was on the verge of passing away

bokuto tells you that he doesn’t mind if you’re not up for the trip and he’d just bring you back your coffee BUT NAH

you’re not a quitter 🤬 you miss your boyfriend and you are gonna do whatever it takes to spend some quality morning time with him !!!!!

so you throw on a proper outfit, make your way through your window and gently do your best to refrain from yelping every time your hand would slip from the railing that’s keeping your balance

bokuto, pulling up seeing you on your roof: you’re so strong 🥺👉👈

you, barely alive: all for you baby ❤️

he helps you get down from where you stood and he had the prettiest smile on earth i SWEAR when you immediately sank in his cold chest

he apologizes for making you sneak out like that BUT NUH UH YOU DO NOT LET HIM

he is a gift !!! and you knew how tired he must’ve been too since he kept yawning but he still took the time and energy to pick you up 🥺

he fastens your seatbelt in the car and puts the windows up because he knew that the air would get in your face and you didn’t like that

he even brought you a spare hoodie of his because he remembered how much you swooned over this particular fabric

bokuto: we’ll get you some coffee but you can sleep while i drive, ok babe?

you, trying not to cry: are you single because i really want to kiss you

bokuto, kissing your cheek: i’m dating someone i’m sorry

3K notes · View notes

another-tmnt-writer · 3 years

Text

Truth or Dare?

Raphael x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Summary: When Mikey needs another actor for his film project, Raph gets roped into it. He didn’t, however, expect for his costar to be so cool.

Note: There are not NEARLY enough college au fics for the bayverse boys, so have this as my first contribution. <3

Warnings: Swears, mentions of drinking, plenty of fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

“Raph, PLEEEEEAAAASE!!!” Mikey folded his hands together, pleading. “We need actors for our project and our group members can’t be in it.”

Mikey, as part of his endeavor to explore every creative program at the university the turtles were currently attending, was taking a filmmaking class. And, as a part of that class, he and his fellow classmates were required to make short projects in order to learn the basics of filmmaking, from writing to directing to using the equipment to editing. As an added bonus because his professor was so especially cruel, none of the people in his group could appear in his project, and while they had managed to recruit some of their classmates to fill in the smaller roles, one of the main roles was still unclaimed.

Raph scoffed. “Mikey, you know I can’t act for shit.”

“You don’t have to actually be good at it!” He pleaded. “You should see some of the other projects. No one in the program is good at acting.”

Raph was quiet for a second, his large arms crossed in front of him, thinking. “How long is it gonna take?”

“Few hours.” Mikey shrugged. He raised an eyebrow. “And your costar is really, really hot.”

Raph sighed, disgruntled. “When?”

“YES! DUDE THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU WON’T REGRET IT!” Mikey ran and returned with a script and a schedule, shoving it into his older brother’s hands. “We film tomorrow!”

Raph’s eyes widened. “TOMORROW?!”

***

Raph went with Mikey to where the rest of his group was meeting to film their project. He hadn’t really had time to look at the script and Mikey assured him that they’d be filming in small enough chunks that he wouldn’t need to have very much memorized at a time. He also didn’t really know what kind of movie it was and he didn’t care; he just couldn’t wait until it was over.

A few minutes after they arrived, so did his costar. And god, he couldn’t stop staring. Mikey was right. God, why was Mikey always right?

“I am so sorry I’m late. The bus almost hit a pedestrian and it was a whole thing.” You apologized.

“Don’t worry about it!” Mikey waved off your concern. “This is my brother, Raph.”

“Nice to meet you, Raph. I’m (Y/N).” You introduced, a warm smile on your face.

Raph didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered on him, but instead of the looks disdain he usually got, instead it seemed to be curiosity. Awe, even? Weird, he decided, but not unwelcome.

It was a long, awkward moment before he realized he’d better respond. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you too.”

“Um, you guys can get to know each other a little better. We’ve gotta get the equipment set up.” Mikey said, leaving the two of you on your own.

The filming location was a place you were very familiar with: the library. Particularly, in front of the cozy little coffee shop in the library.

“I didn’t really, uh, look at the script, but I’m guessing they needed a monster for a horror movie or something…” Raph flipped through the pages, skimming.

“It’s a rom com.” You corrected quietly. “I’m the main character. You’re the love interest.”

If Raph could physically blush, he was sure his cheeks would rival the color of his mask. “…Oh.”

“Is that alright?” You asked.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s fine, I just…” He chuckled to himself. “I ain’t ever acted in anything before, let alone anything romantic.”

“It’s not too much, I don’t think.” You reassured him. “I’m pretty sure the most they’ll have us do is awkwardly brush hands. It’s a coffee shop meet-cute.”

“Gotcha.” And while he was relieved, he was also a little…disappointed? Huh. Weird. “So, uh, what’s yer major?”

“I’m a film major. I’m in Mikey’s class and they needed actors, so I’m paying it forward in case I need someone in my project. What’s yours?”

“I’m undecided. Just, uh, taking some time to figure things out, you know. I never really had any…school experience before this.”

“That’s a lot to adjust to.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m getting used to it, though.”

“That’s good! If you need any help with anything, let me know. I’ve picked up a bunch of good tips and tricks.”

He chuckled. “I will, thanks.”

“Do you have snapchat?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“One second.” You fished your phone out of your bag and unlocked it, opening the app to your snapcode, which he scanned and added you. “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Raph took some more time reading over the script to get the gist of the scene and you were right. Indeed, it was a rom com. Not his preferred genre, by any means, but maybe he’d warm up to it a bit over the course of the day.

“Hey (Y/N)?” Mikey called from over where they had the camera set up on the tripod. “Do you know how to white-balance this thing? Everything is orange for some reason. Which is a great color, but I’m sure Smith will dock us points for it.”

“Oh, I’ve got you.” You nodded. You looked up at Raph, your purse in hand. “Will you hold this for a second?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He nodded, holding out a giant three-fingered hand to take the bag from you. He watched you walk over to where the rest of the group was standing, crowded around the camera. You worked your magic, shuffling through the menu and helping adjust the camera correctly. Raph couldn’t stop staring. You looked so focused. So passionate. He could tell you really liked film and everything it entailed and he wished he could just find something he cared about as much as you cared about your major.

“Awesome.” He heard Mikey say, his eyes fixed on the camera’s screen. “Thanks!”

“Of course!” You walked back over to where Raph was and he handed you your bag back. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mikey walked over to the two of you.

“You guys ready? I think we’re good to start now.”

“All set.” You confirmed, giving him a thumbs-up, and Raph nodded.

***

Raph might have to reconsider his stance on this acting thing. Did he think he was all that good at it? No. But so long as he had you as a costar, he’d act willingly in any project Mikey (or you) needed him for. And at the end of the shoot, he ended up having a really good time. So much so that when you guys were all done, he was…sad. Like, really sad about it.

You parted ways. You weren’t in any of his classes, so Raph wasn’t really sure if he’d see you around that much. And he didn’t see you around…until a few weeks later.

He was at the library studying with his brothers at their favorite table when suddenly, his phone buzzed, a message from snapchat coming in. He looked at the notification, doing a double-take when he read your name there. And when he reached to answer it, he moved too fast and knocked his shell-shaped cell phone off of the table.

Shit.

He bent down to pick it up and when he opened the snapchat, he was surprised to see…the back of his shell? It was captioned: “I spy with my little eye…Something red and green 😉”

Immediately, he whipped around, and sure enough, nestled in a table by the windows was you, looking at him over the top of your laptop screen. You giggled when he spotted you, waving.

Raph nudged Mikey, who was sitting across from him and Mikey traced Raph’s eyeline to where you were, his face immediately lighting up.

“Oh! Hey (Y/N)!” Mikey waved. “You wanna sit with us?”

“Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah!” Mikey motioned you over. “The more the merrier! We can pull up a chair over here on the end.”

So, you gathered your stuff while the guys rearranged some things, putting you on the end of the table, right between Mikey and Raph. When you got over there, you noticed they were sitting with the other two giant mutated turtles on campus, who you had heard of, but hadn’t met yet.

“(Y/N), these are our brothers. Leo’s over there in the blue, our fearless leader. And this is Donatello, the one we go to for homework help.”

“Not tonight you aren’t. This paper is due at midnight and it is…” Donnie glanced down at the clock on his laptop and as soon as he did, he started typing impossibly faster. “Eleven thirty-seven. Do not look at me or breathe in my direction.”

“Noted.” Mikey nodded, a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). You’re in one of Mikey’s classes, right?”

“Yep! I’m in his film class.” You smiled, taking a sip of your iced coffee. “I got the pleasure of costarring with this one.” You nudged Raph lightly, causing him to smile the most genuine smile Mikey had ever seen on his older brother’s face.

Huh. Mikey took note, something devious stirring in the back of his mind. Interesting…

“What did you get on that, by the way?” You asked.

“We got an A! Well, Minus. But you know how Smith is.”

“Dude that’s awesome!” You bumped your fist against his. “Good job. I’m pretty sure my group got a B, but we’re not mad about it. C’s get degrees, as they say.”

“Cheers to that.” Leo chuckled.

“What are you working on today, Raph?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that sent his heart racing in a way he could not explain.

“I have a paper for my Writing 150 class.”

“Oof that sucks. Who do you have?”

“Trainor.”

“Ouch. She hated me.” You grimaced, shaking your head. “She found out I was bi and it was all over for me.”

“Did you report her? I’m pretty sure you can report her for that sort of thing.” Raph asked, trying not to get heated over it. He was pretty sure she didn’t like him very much either, but it was probably due to the fact that he was a giant green turtle. “That’s bullshit.”

“I’m in the process of that right now.” You nodded. “She’s a bitch. I don’t know if they’ll actually do anything about it though.”

“Keep me posted. I might file something too if she doesn’t stop glaring at me during class.” Raph grumbled. “It’s annoying.”

“That would be annoying. Her beady little eyes glaring at you for two agonizing hours of ‘This is how to correctly use a comma’.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. It is.”

You glanced at your phone, which buzzed with a text from one of your roommates. “Oh! Uh, do you guys have any plans this weekend?”

“Nope. Why?” Mikey asked, curiosity seeping into his voice.

“My roommate is throwing a party, if you guys wanna come. It’ll be pretty chill. Drinks, pizza, some music.”

“Oh hell yes.” Mikey nodded. He looked at Leo. “Leo, can we?”

“I don’t see why not.” Leo shrugged. “Sounds like a good time.”

“Is there a dress code?” Mikey asked. Now that he was finally allowed to socialize, he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Nope. Just casual. Come as you are.”

“Do you need us to bring anything?”

“If you guys have a drink of choice, bring that, I guess, but otherwise, my roommate’s boyfriend works at a pizza place, so we get a pretty good discount and we have literally so much wine.”

“That’s amazing.” Mikey nodded, making a mental note to look into jobs at a pizza place later.

“We’ll bring a veggie tray.” Donnie said, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop until finally, he stopped. “I finished, by the way.”

“Good job, dude!” Mikey gave him a thumbs up. “You wanna write mine next?”

“Ha.” Donnie stared at him. “Funny.”

“What’s your paper on, Raph? Maybe I can help.”

Raph turned his laptop towards you. “We have to write it about like growing up. You can, uh, read it if you want. I don’t mind. I’m kinda stuck right now anyway.”

“Okay.” You agreed, switching his laptop for yours. You winked. “Trade ya.”

“What are you writing about?” He asked, scrolling to the top of your document.

“Women in Film.” You shot finger guns at him. “I’m about to make some Film Bois REALLLL mad.”

“Roast ‘em, (Y/N).” Mikey laughed, knowing all too well exactly which film boys you were talking about. He was not a fan.

“That’s the plan.” You chuckled and then started reading over Raph’s paper. You had known before meeting them that they hadn’t exactly had the best childhood, but…wow was it eye-opening reading the experience from his eyes. “Holy shit.”

“That bad?” He joked, trying to read your expression.

“No, it’s…Raph, this is really good, but wow. You guys went through a lot, huh?”

“Yeah…” He shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad, but it sure wasn’t normal by any means.”

“Mmm…” You nodded, looking up at him. “I mean, normal is kinda overrated.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad ya think so. Not many people do.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not like many people.”

***

“(Y/N), this place is as clean as it’s gonna get. It’s a party. It’ll be messed up in,” your roommate, Haley, glanced down at her watch, “like twenty minutes.”

“I know, I just…I’m nervous. These guys are basically superheroes. I want to make a good impression.”

“Fair point.”

You swept the kitchen floor and got out the cutest paper plates you had in the cupboard as well as some solo cups and plastic wine glasses. If you could avoid broken glass today, that was probably the move.

The doorbell buzzed and your heart raced, but it was just your other roommate’s boyfriend with the pizza.

“Is Darcy here?” He asked.

“She’s upstairs getting ready, you explained, helping him get the pizza and breadsticks and everything set up on the counter. He’d also brought a few two-liters of Pepsi, which was good. You put it next to the giant jug of fruit punch you’d bought at the grocery store. It was important to make sure your non-drinking friends had something to drink, too.

A few minutes after, guests started arriving. Darcy came downstairs and started up her iconic party playlist. Your neighbors popped in. It was easier to invite them and let them have a good time with you than have them call security on you guys for throwing a party, even if it was the weekend and it was only nine.

You turned off the lamps in the living room and instead set your strip lights to party mode, causing them to cycle through a bunch of colors in time with the music. It was then that the doorbell rang again and you rushed to the mirror to check yourself once more. You adjusted your hair, straightened out your top, and checked your teeth for food. Nope, you were good.

So, with the rest of the hosts distracted, you opened the door. On the other side of it were four tall, green gentlemen, one of them carrying a veggie tray.

“Hey guys, come on in!”

You moved out of the way so they could step inside.

Mikey’s eyes widened, looking into the living room full of dancing college kids. “Woahhhhh this is awesome!”

“Glad you think so.” You laughed. “There’s food and drinks in here, the bathroom is in the hallway, and everyone else seems to be either in the living room or the back yard.”

“Where do you want this veggie tray?” Donnie asked.

“Thank you so much for bringing this, by the way! You can set it over by the pizza boxes. I can get a spoon for the dip.” You said, walking towards the silverware drawer and producing a spoon while Donnie popped the lid off of the plastic serving tray and opened up the dip. You handed him the spoon.

The guys were each sporting their signature color, but they were wearing clothes you hadn’t seen them in before. Usually, Raph liked to wear a large gray hoodie, but today, he was sporting a black t-shirt and an impossibly large red flannel with some jeans. It looked good on him. Like, really good.

Apparently, he was thinking the same thing, because as soon as you were free, he walked up to you and nudged you gently. “You look really good.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth and you wished you could blame it on wine, but you hadn’t even had a sip yet. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”

Had you worn a red top on purpose? Yes, absolutely. Would you admit to it, though? No, definitely not.

But Mikey noticed. Oh, Mikey noticed everything. And he couldn’t help but think that you and his older brother would make quite the couple. Maybe there was something he could do to just…give it a little push.

***

The time came later, when the party was finally starting to wind down. Some people had left. Your neighbors had gone home, and you’d switched the strip lights to a light, warm color. You’d also switched the upbeat party playlist for something chill to play in the background. The remaining partygoers were all settled in a circle in the living room, eating whatever pizza was left, sipping on box wine, and playing a game of truth or dare.

“Haley, truth or dare?” Darcy challenged.

“Truth.”

“Okay…Fuck, Marry, Kill: Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and…..Chris Pine.”

“DAMN.” She cursed. “You can’t do that to me. Shit. Uh…Fuck Chris…Hemsworth. Marry Chris…Pine? And—”

“Don’t you do it!” You warned.

“Kill Chris Evans.”

“Noooooooooo!” You whined, taking a sip of your drink. The rest of the group laughed. “Poor Captain America.”

“Rest in pieces, Cap.” She agreed, shaking her head. “Okay…Mikey, truth or dare.”

“Dare.” Mikey answered quickly. He always picked dare, so in the fifth round of the game, it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“I dare you…to take a shot of straight lemon juice.”

“Easy peasy.” Mikey scoffed, pouring himself a shot and downing it.

You watched as his face contorted at the sour, sour taste. You couldn’t help but giggle a little at that.

“Good job, Mikey.” Donnie laughed, dipping a piece of broccoli in dip before popping it into his mouth.

“Taking it like a champ.” Leo added, nodding.

“Alright, my turn?” Mikey asked, looking around the circle for his victim, pretending he hadn’t been planning this since round one. “(Y/N). Truth or dare?”

You thought about it for a second. How easy it would be to just choose truth again, but for some reason, you were feeling a little brave, so instead, you picked, “Dare.”

“Oooooooh,” the circle said, all of them a little surprised by that choice.

“Okay. Alright.” Mikey rubbed his hands together mischievously. All according to plan. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

“OOOOOOOHHHH!” The circle all stared at you and you thought for a second, a smirk settling on your features.

“Oh that’s easy.” You got up and crossed the circle until you were standing in front of Raph. Even sitting down, he was almost your height. “Think I could get a kiss?”

Raph stared up at you, shocked, waiting for you to say Sike! HAHA! Did you actually think I thought you were hot?! Loser!

But you never did, instead looking down at him with sincerity, patience. Were you a little…nervous, even?

“Why me?” He whispered, his eyes fixed on you. There were plenty of good-looking human guys still there, and yet you were certain. Unwavering. Then, louder, he asked, his heart absolutely fighting to get out of his chest, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You nodded, starting to lean closer. Once you were most of the way in, you let him meet you in the middle, your soft human lips meeting his, which were, you had to admit, way softer than you thought they would be.

Raphael kissed you like you were made of glass, like if he moved too fast, you would shatter. It was his first kiss, after all, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

When it finally ended, you walked back to your seat in the circle, your cheeks rosy, heart racing. Haley gave you a nudge and you giggled, your stomach filled with butterflies. The rest of the game went along with little fanfare, and once everyone was tired enough, the apartment cleared out even more, leaving just your roommates, Darcy’s boyfriend, and the turtles, who insisted on helping clean everything up. Well, it had been Leo’s idea, but the rest had agreed to stick around to help.

You volunteered to go out into the backyard to pick up all of the stray solo cups and White Claw cans. You hated litter. You worked out there alone for a bit. As you bent down to pick up the last can you heard the signature screech of the sliding door opening.

Raph squeezed through the narrow doorway, cursing his shell for making him so damn wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your voice was almost swallowed up by the sounds of the choir of crickets outside.

“Hey.” He closed the sliding door. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, tying off the trash bag you were using to collect garbage. “How was your first college party?”

“It was great. Really, really great.” He said, taking slow steps through the grass towards you. “Um…I…did you mean what you said? Earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you…was I really…” he laughed at the absurdity of it. “You think I’m hot?”

“I do.” You nodded. “Of course I do.”

“I’m sorry if I find that a little hard to believe.” He shook his head, stopping right in front of you. When he was standing in front of you like this, he was remined of just how big he was compared to you, just how much he towered over you. Just how different you were. “I’m just used to the opposite reaction.”

“Believe it.” You reached forward and took his hand in yours, gripping one of his giant green fingers.

“I’m trying to.” He chuckled and fiddled with your little hand, nervous. “You know, uh…that was my first kiss in there. I wasn’t too awful, was I?”

“I didn’t mean to steal your first one.” You laughed softly. “Sorry. But to answer your question, I thought it was perfect.”

“That’s a relief.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Uh…If it’s alright with ya…I’d like to give you my second kiss, too.”

Instead of answering, you took another step closer, looking up, up, up into his piercing green eyes. “You’re gonna have to come down here; I can’t reach.”

He laughed. “Right.” Raph craned his neck down, one of his large hands tilting your face up towards his so he could meet you in the middle for another perfect kiss.

***

“What are you doing?” Leo asked Mikey, who was peering through the blinds into the back yard of the apartment.

Mikey only grinned proudly, nodding to himself. “Works every time…”

#raphael #raph #raphael x reader #raphael imagine #raph x reader #raph imagine #tmnt #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt imagine #bayverse

361 notes · View notes

imonthinice · 3 years

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 7/?

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N Any Name (your best friend’s name), (Name) - your ex’s name !genderneutral (Don’t use a DC character! Y/N hasn’t dated any other DC character!) :)

3.5k words, my god. And they’ve still only known each other for 4 days and we’re on part 7. I do not know how to finish this.

Lol, Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, Heated moments, There is French in this one, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Falling asleep in Jason’s arms after that escapade the two of them pulled the night before was something magical to say the least. Of course, they only got like 5 hours of sleep before they had to wake up and get out, at risk of Y/N being caught in the building, although the thrill of it excited the both of them deeply, but that’s obvious. They liked breaking the rules already.

Riding back home seemed a lot less like a journey to her this time, she just wanted to spend more time with Jason, but he had work and she didn’t want to hang out at Wayne Enterprises. She’d probably go to the library today, she didn’t know exactly what she’d do today, but she always thought that was the most exciting thing ever. “I don’t know what I’m even going to do tomorrow,” one of her friends asked when she moved to Gotham, ‘How exciting!’ she answered.

That friend said the next day she ran through the streets of Metropolis with her arms outstretched like a kid, and she did it in Y/N’s honor. “I told you!” she said, “How exciting that sometimes you never know what you’re going to do tomorrow!”.

These thoughts swirled in her head as Jason drove her back home when, like clockwork, like it was out of a movie, he said,

“I have no idea what I’m even going to do today.”

She laughed, “I always say ‘How exciting!’ when someone says that to me.”

“Really?”

“One of my friends back home, when I gave her that advice, she then spent the next day running around the city with her arms outstretched in my honor, it was apparently one of the more fun things she’s ever done, so” she paused, “I really mean it. how exciting! The possibilities are endless, are they not?”

“Well, not really, I have work to do,” he frowned.

“So own it. Make the office your bitch. Take charge, take lead.”

“Why not?” he said in agreement.

“Why the fuck not.”

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

Jason walked her to her door, “Won’t you be late?” she asked,

“Dad knows where I am, I don’t think I’ll have my ass handed to me.”

“You never know,” she laughed.

He laughed too and slightly pecked her lips. He wanted more, he was hungry for more out of that kiss, but work and life gets in the way of their relationship, and he really whined when he had to break away, but she laughed at it.

“Slow your roll Tiger, one day,” she mused.

“You say that like you don’t want more.”

“This isn’t about me,” she retorted, “So, shut up, respectfully.”

He laughed and kissed the back of her hand, “You have a thing for doing that, huh?” she joked.

“I literally don’t know how to answer that, I think I’m losing my touch with flirting,” he joked back.

“Okay, okay, you need to get going now.”

“Fine! You want to get rid of me so badly, I get it,” he joked and walked back to the car and she waved him off. She hated that time he left, a lot. She knew it was healthy to take a day’s break if they’ve been on 3 back-to-back dates, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

She opened her door and walked in, thinking A/N was asleep so she wouldn’t be barraged for her hair being a mess, but, boy oh boy, was this girl waiting for her to get home.

“What happened? Why’s your hair a mess? Oh my god, did you have sex?” she asked.

“No, but we kissed, will you take that as information while I shower or do you want all the details now?”

“You can shower, you can shower. I’m not that needy.”

“Yes you are,” Y/N joked and went to go shower.

And like she always did, she opened her phone and looked at the news before answering her friends,

Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd's Girlfriend’s Name Revealed!

She laughed, cause it wasn’t her name. She didn’t think he was seeing anyone else, and they used her picture, so she knew they just fucked it. She forwarded the article to Jason with the caption ‘ Fuckin’ idiots’ .

She then answered Artemis, who asked Did you two kiss? Dick’s up my ass about it ‘cause he knows we’re friends.

I want to take that out of context so badly. She joked with Artemis.

I knew this man had a terrible name that would come to haunt me, but did ‘ya kiss?

Yeah we did. Get Dick out of your ass, though, that’s weird, you have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend.

Shut up, you’re not funny.

I’m pretty funny.

You are but I’m not going to admit that, girl.

And one of her old friends had texted her, it was someone who Y/N had seen off and on the past few years, they were polite, but she didn’t exactly want to speak to her ex.

Hey.

(Name)? What do you want?

Saw you in the news with the rich boy, guess we’re over?

We have been over for like 5 months, my guy.

Bitch.

Okay!

People from her hometown were noticing her in the articles and recognizing her. Some would think this is the coolest thing that someone they loved met a nice boy, the money a bonus, some would give her the reaction her ex did, but she knew she was days, hours, maybe minutes away from her parents finding out about her love affair with Jason.

She shuddered at the thought, she loved her parents, a lot, but something told her that maybe they wouldn’t did Jason to be like she found him. She also knew she could be overthinking it entirely and they’d like the Criminal Psych Major that she knew all-too-well.

But overthinking was fun, apparently. And she couldn’t stop thinking the worst of so much.

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

When she got changed and just threw on whatever the fuck she saw, she went out to go talk to A/N.

“Hey, nerd. I’m done,” Y/N said.

“Nerd? You’re the one dating the bookworm and you’re in criminal psychology,” she joked.

“Ha, ha. So, how are things with your lover? Have you secured him yet or are you just doing your own thing still?”

“Still just doing our own thing, don’t really have the time to date while getting my degree and working.”

“I mean, if it works for you I can’t throw judgment.”

“What about Jason? How’re things with you two?”

“You ever seen the Wayne Enterprises Ballroom before?”

“In pictures, why- Don’t tell me he took you there you lucky bitch?!”

“Then I just wont tell you,” she laughed.

“The Ballroom? Oh my god, that’s crazy, he's really pulling out all the stops to make you smile, huh?”

“I would do the same if I had more to offer, but I have barely anything since I bought that place in the dance competition across the country,” she said.

Y/N had bought a place in this competition before she met Jason, and she was heading to it on Saturday, in two days, and she actually had practiced the routine during downtime between her and Jason. She hadn’t exactly told Jason about this, and Jason had asked why she looked strained and like her muscles hurt, but that just never seemed like something you share with your casual partner, to her. She never seemed like her casual competitions were worth anything. A/N had begged to differ since Y/N had met her.

A/N said that Y/N had talent, that she could go somewhere, Y/N saw it as an extra circular that didn’t affect her much. She wasn’t the type of brag, and all her trophies were back home with her parents, anyway.

“Have you told him about your,” insert A/N’s heavy sarcasm, “’Casual’ competitions, yet?”

Idk what the hell happened with that line ya love to see it

“I’ll send him a quick text about it, I guess,” she sighed and sent just a quick, Hey, can’t have a date on Saturday-Sunday, forgot to tell you but I’m going to Cali for a quick dance competition, lol. My bad, shoulda said something.

“Why are you like this, be proud of your accomplishments, dammnit!”

“It’s a casual competition!”

“And you’re talented! I’m this close to just showing him videos of you going at it,” she said, exasperated.

“He already knows, we danced in the Ballroom.”

“Oh my lord,” she laughed, “You’re an enigma, if I had your amount of trophies I wouldn’t be hiding it.”

“Im’ not hiding it! It just kind of never came up.”

And he texted back, Oh damn, are you at least going to kill it? You better, I want to show the live broadcast to my family and brag.

She laughed, “See!”, she exclaimed, showing A/N the texts, “He doesn’t care like you do, nerd.”

A/N laughed, “Sure he doesn’t. Do you want to go to lunch, by the way? I’m bored off of my ass.”

“Sure, why the fuck not.”

“Go get dressed then, and I’ll do the same.”

“Okay okay, meet up in 10?”

“Yes ma’am.”

And off they went.

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

Y/N texted back Jason for a quick minute before getting dressed, Of course I’m going to kill it, my notes aren’t a representation of my dancing skills.

Well, I hope you win something. And text me. But mainly win something.

Of course I’ll text you, Jay. It gets boring at competitions.

You should go to a Wayne Gala then, god damn, those fuckin bastards are the most boring events this side of America.

Well maybe you’ll invite me one day.

I’ll probably have to if you show up on National TV. The press will finally know your name.

I hope I’m not on National TV then. Fuck the press.

Fuck the press indeed.

Since Y/N didn’t feel the need or want to dress up, she didn’t. Quick shirt and jeans and she was out the door. Sometimes she would dress up for lunch dates with her friends, just because she was bored as fuck and dressing up was fun, but she just didn’t want to do it today. Combat boots, jeans and a shirt were enough most days. You don’t have to be a model just because the press knows your face, she thought, you don’t.

“Who’s driving?” A/N asked.

“I can if you want. I don’t mind,” Y/N said as they walked to the beat up car they loved so much. It was nothing compared to the Porsche she had been in the night before, but it was still running, and you don’t fix something that ain’t broke.

“Maybe your boyfriend will buy you a new car,” A/N joked.

“If anything, he’d buy me a new computer, since mine is getting mailed to me and you’re going to love hearing the sounds that bitch makes,” she retorted.

“Is it bad?”

“Terrible. My sister called it a screaming electronic goat once,” she laughed, “I hate that fucking thing. But if it ain’t broke-”

“Don’t fix it, I know.”

“Exactly.”

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

For some reason, they decided in the car to go to McDonald's, because hey, it’s not like Y/N is on a dance diet or anything. She wasn’t, because she didn’t want to starve herself for the sake of winning a competition. That was even her thought process as she was younger and more vulnerable to her teachers, she always told them she’d never do that. Years later, she still stuck to that mindset.

They got out of the car and like fucking clockwork, the press was in her face.

“You! The girl with no name, Jason Todd’s girlfriend!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” she whispered under her breath, “How do they always find me!”

“Tell us about yourself! Are you serious with Jason? How do you feel about his family? How-”

But then she had an idea,

“Quoi? Je parle pas l’Anglais? Qu’est-ce-que vous voulez?” she said, using her bilingual skills to her advantage.

“What? No I mean-”

“Pas de l’Anglais! Désolé mes amis!” and she ran off into the McDonald's with A/N.

“Did you just speak French to get them off your ass, you genius?”

“Spoke very broken French because I wasn’t thinking, but yeah, I did that.”

“I forget you’re multi-talented sometimes, you have a lot hidden under your belt and I try to treat you like a normal person but you’re far from it.”

“I appreciate you for trying, but I think with my new love affair, you aren’t going to get far with those attempts anymore, sorry,” she joked.

Jason texted her, Did you just speak French to avoid the press?

How do you know about that?

We were watching the news during a meeting and they said that you spoke French.

You got to do what you got to do to get by.

That is literally the most genius thing I’ve heard of anyone doing in so long. I think you’ve truly bamboozled them for a while and they might hop off of your back for a while.

You think so? ‘Cause I really hope that’s the case.

My siblings think it’s hilarious, and no one’s leaked that you are just joking with the press, so yeah, they might actually leave you alone.

Let’s fucking go. That is the news of the 21st century.

4 days of knowing each other and you’ve flipped off the press twice, outran them with me once, hid in the Wayne Enterprises Building with me and you’ve spoken French to bamboozle the press. That is impressive.

I feel like the press is going to hate me one day.

Probably. But they also hate most of us most days.

You should probably get back to work.

Yeah, talk to you soon.

She put her phone away and went to stand with A/N, who was waiting for their food.

“Talking to your lover?” she joked.

“When am I not doing that?”

“That’s valid.”

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

Going on a lunch date with A/N made a little bit of the harassment just better. They both bonded over how they hated the press before her love affair with Jason, and how their opinions wouldn’t change much unless, knock on wood, one of them went missing. Y/N told her about all the cases where the press and the internet did so much to solve cases around the world, love or hate the press, they did do a lot for solving crime.

She also told A/N that Jason was related to Dr. Barry Allen and Clark Kent, two people the two of them knew well because of the news and the fact that A/N knew Y/N when she wanted to go into forensics and was reading Dr. Barry Allen’s work.

When her mother texted her.

Y/N? Is that you in the press running around with Jason Todd?

Yeah mum, why?

Are you two in a serious relationship?

No mum.

Then why are the vultures so obsessed with you, says your dad.

‘ Cause you two made a pretty girl and he’s high up in the world, I guess, I don’t know. I don’t really like the press.

I can tell. We’re not mad at you honey, but be careful. And your dad says when you two get serious he needs to take Jason fishing.

He doesn’t speak French, mum.

Dad says he’ll work on his English for you.

Well tell everyone I love them, mum.

She panicked a little bit, her parents were nice when they wanted to be, but they were strict, why wouldn’t they be. So this, while being a welcomed surprise. was still a little panicky.

“Your parents find out?”

“Yeah, they seem chill with it though.”

“Bing in the press sucks when you’re trying to keep your love life out of your parents' eyes, huh?”

“You could say that again,” she joked.

“Being in the press sucks when you’re-”

“I didn’t mean literally!” they laughed.

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

Back at Wayne Enterprises, Jason was betting bombarded by his colleges, friends and family about Y/N and how she was able to get around the press’ constant harassment without flaw. And also because Bruce had seen the two enter the building at around 12am the night before. So Jason was called into Bruce’s office that day.

“1, I know everyone is bombarding you, so you can hide out here, son, 2, you and Y/N didn’t have sex in your office right?”

“God no, dad. We just hid here because security is tight as fuck and unable to get past.”

“I saw you two kissing on the cams and heading into your office, Jay.”

“Okay, okay, but we didn't have sex and the intentions were there, dad!”

“Uh huh, pretty girl in your, my, car.”

“Dad, stop it,” he joked.

“Well, her little shenanigans with the press are very amusing, have you told her that?”

“I have.”

“She’s basically not afraid to tell them what we all think.”

“That’s what I said, dad.”

“Well, hold onto that one and don’t let her go.”

“Do you regret doing that with Talia?” Jason asked.

“God no, she’s insane. The son I got out of her antics is literally her spitting image, so if I need to be reminded of her I can just go talk to Damien for a couple minutes.”

“Dami’s a lot like you too, don’t act like his personality is just Talia, he acts like his dad in every aspect and you know that.”

“Lord help any woman or man that kid goes on to date, my god,” the two of them laughed. It was the small things with Bruce that made Jason happy to be a Wayne, even if he didn’t share the last name. Jason grew up on the streets and even before that, his mum and dad didn’t have a lot of money, so the amounts of money that Bruce could shower on him was a lot, but he was okay with just working for his money. And Bruce knew that.

He spent a lot of his workday in Bruce’s office, hiding from the rest of the office, and texting Will.

She knows about your kid.

Well, she’s a good kid. I’m glad you’re bragging about her, means I raised her right.

Shut up. I love that little girl and I’ve helped raise her, Will.

You’re used to my new name?

I changed your contact to Will when you changed your name, so I could remember that that’s your name now and not Roy. I’m hoping I remember it in person though. It would be awkward if I forgot my best friend’s name.

It would be funny to look back on, though.

Like how your relationship with Jade is funny now?

Never stick your dick in crazy.

I wish you would have listened to that sometimes, but then I remember Lian is amazing.

I’m a cliché of dumb choices, what can I say Jaybird.

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

In Y/N’s house, she would always play loud and sad music when she had the chance, some people thought her mental state was fucked, which sometimes it was, but most of the time the sad music went harder than the happy tunes you would catch from the other side of the house.

But even if music was blasting the loudest it could ever be, somehow she would still find herself lost in her thoughts, whether it was new dance routines or a story she would scribble down in her dream journal. there was something about those little fits of artistic passion she would experience from time-to-time.

It’s hard to put into words how those moments reminded her of the simplier times before sh was thrust into stardom, but also how they reminded her of Jason, and untouched mind she longed to know further. She knew there was so much more to the boy she had gone on dates with.

She would end up ignoring her phone for most of the rest of that day, just because she wanted peace and quiet, when A/N’s lover came over and she had to turn the music up louder so she wouldn’t be disrupted by the obvious.

I just got off of work, how are you? How’s your day been? Jason had texted Y/N while she ws turning up the music.

Well, I just had to turn up my music because my roommate’s lover is over, but other than that I’ve been enjoying peace and quiet in my room, waiting for something to do.

Is texting me something to do?

Yes.

That’s sweet of you. Work was boring though so I hope you don’t expect a story.

I don’t, don’t worry. You don’t always need a story for something to do.

Well, I’m going home with my brothers and dad, and we’re probably going to play office chair racing because I’m a bad boy.

You’re a bad boy?

Was that not funny?

It was pretty funny, isn’t that dangerous though?

Yeah actually, my brother broke his leg playing it and another time my little sister broke her leg playing it.

It seems fun but like, damn, two people have gotten injured playing that game, y’know.

Well if I die it’ll be a fun story!

55 notes · View notes

surferboypizzas · 3 years

Note

rank the main st kids from most annoying to least annoying- i sent this ask to another st blog too. compare notes 🤨

ok i'll be your lab rat but i need you to know that i care about all of them, and that i have the emotional complexity it takes to love someone and also hate them. also i'm assuming in this theoretical they are babysitter-needing age not 14 or whatever.

El Hopper. She would be a joy to be around. I cannot think of one single thing she could do that I would find annoying.

Will Byers. Not at all annoying- but I feel like if I was sent over to babysit little ol' William he would just be silent. He would barely speak. Like if I said "Do you want to pick a movie to watch?" at eight he would say "Oh, no I've gotta go to bed at nine. Maybe a show." And I'd say "Cool. I mean it is Saturday so if you pick a one and a half hour movie that would be fine. You could do that." And he'd refuse. You're twelve, sir, you're too young to be tired enough that you are actively excited to sleep at night. He's equally as mentally unwell as Mike, but Mike would take his emotions out on me and Will would bottle them up inside.

Max Mayfield. Definitely wants me to french braid her hair. In an ideal world she would think I was ~cool~ and look up to me or whatever but in all honestly I think she would find me lame. Would a swear a shit ton. Thinks she's too old to need a babysitter but instead of acting all rebellious because of that she acts like we're peers. We aren't on the same level kid, ya mom left me in charge. So I get to put the closed captions on the movie we're watching, and you're gonna have to deal with it! If Billy was going to arrive home before her parents Max would probably try to shove me out the door in fear of Billy killing and/or hitting on me.

Lucas Sinclair. Would beg to eat out, say he'll pay for his own food, then forget his wallet. And, yes, I would have payed for his stupid hamburger and onion rings because I'm a softie that's easily swayed, ok? It also turns out that "coincidentally" three other kids he knows are here with some other babysitter and he dragged me here just to hang out with them. The audacity. But I guess it's fine, loser. Your little sister is funnier anyways.

Dustin Henderson. At first babysitting Dustin would rock because we have similar loser interests and are the same enneagram type and all that jazz. He also has that turtle. That's pretty sick. And Claudia always leaves pizza money. The easiest night of babysitting ever, right? Until the little twerp keeps complaining about you only being here because this random dude named Kleve or whatever was busy playing in an important basketball game. Then Dustin would go on about how originally he was supposed to be at that basketball game but then his mom's old friend came in from out of town and now he's stuck here with me. He'd be all whiny about it. "If only there was a way I could make it to Steve's basketball game!" Then I would take him out of pure irritation, recognize Steve from that time when I was babysitting Lucas, and internally declare him as my mortal enemy. There's only enough room for one babysitter in this here town, pardner. And it sure as hell isn't gonna be you.

Mike Wheeler. I'm so sorry Michael but fuck. I know you don't want to be babysat, I know you are angry that I'm here instead of your sister who apparently "became a bitch" (as you put it so eloquently) or whatever, and I know you had a "important mission that could have saved [my] ass from confronting [my] own mortality." But I needed gas money (because I think in this theoretical I'm like 16 or whatever babysitting age is and probably don't have another job), and Mrs. Wheeler needed a last minute babysitter. So shut up and go reheat the left over pot roast in the fridge yourself while I hang out with your adorable little sister, because Karen said I was the boss. Bummer, I guess you better suck it up and save my mortal ass another day you little devil man. Like- God I know it sucks you missed your D&D game (I assume you're talking about D&D and they're aren't actually monsters coming to kill us, haha) you seem overly invested in, but work with me here for once. Anyways, the joke here is that the world would be ending, and he would probably just sneak out his bedroom window. But before that he would try to start a fight with me and I would indulge him because that kids gotta take out his raging undiagnosed (because it's the 80s) mental problems out on someone.

#stranger things #himbo.st #the party #mike wheeler #max mayfield #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #will byers #el hopper #ask #anon #fave

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eideticmemory · 3 years

Text

TWO GHOSTS II | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Part 2! Read Part 1.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

After Hours - The Velvet Underground

Mr. Loverman - Ricky Montgomery

Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now - The Smiths

“Ramona . . .” you whine.

“I know . . . a mess.”

“I, uh,” you set your phone down, keeping Ramona’s voice on speaker. “I have to get out of this hotel, I have to get home.”

“[y/n], no.”

“No?”

“No.”

You begin changing out of your pajamas, your hands trembling as you slip on a pair of jeans. “Are you telling me I can’t go home right now? Seriously?”

“Seriously. Unless you wanna get swarmed by paparazzi, and risk leaving the hotel at the same time as him, you need to stay put.”

“This . . . this . . . is a mess. This is a huge mess, I — Ramona, I’m leaving.” You ramble, grabbing your things from the bedside dresser.

“[y/n] [y/l/n].” Ramona says, sternly. “You are my boss, but I have direct orders from your publicist to make sure you stay put. So, sit down, chill out, I’ll be there in five. And, honestly . . . you should have some wine.”

“Wha — wine? It’s seven in the morning.”

“Y’know what? You deserve it. Be there soon.”

She was already on the way when she hung up, and when she knocks on the door, you’re sat criss-cross on the bed, sipping a glass of wine. She’s right, you deserve it. You hold the fragile cup in your hand as you open the door, and she waltzes her way in.

“You calm now?” she asks.

“Medicated,” you shrug, holding the glass of wine up in the air.

“Perfect . . . so, were you ever going to tell anyone that you used to date Matthew Gray Gubler?”

You scoff, wander through the hotel room, “I didn’t date Matthew Gubler,” you take a seat on the bed.

“Okay, were you going to mention that you used to fuck Matthew Gray Gubler?” She crosses her arms.

“I . . .” you stutter, go silent in response.

“Oh, God,” she groans.

“It was a long, long time ago! It’s no one’s business, and there’s hardly any proof that it’s anything but a rumor.”

“No proof? —“ She shakes her head, pulling her iPad from her bag. As she clicks a few buttons, she adds, “Did you not see what people were saying? . . . The pictures?”

“Pictures?” You gasp, setting you glass down. “What pictures?”

Ramona sighs, and hands the iPad over to you, avoiding eye contact. You slowly take the device from her hands, and let out a shaky breath.

“The first two were posted a, um, John Hearse on twitter . . .” she explains.

“I mean, if you and Gube just . . . I’m gonna say it - fucked - one good time, the two of you could get over this whole rivalry already.”

Ramona’s words start to fade, to rescind to dust and ash, as you absorb the image in front of you. It’s old . . . and slightly blurry, but you recognize every face. John, Steve, Matthew . . . and you, sat in his lap, head on his shoulder with a huge, bright smile on your face. Matthew had his hand on your waist, practically gripping your shirt in his hand, keeping you close. The next picture, he was making you laugh, all three of you, as you looked, lovingly, into his eyes.

They were posted in response to a final picture, of you and Matthew reuniting. You looking, literally, like an idiot, in the daze of seeing him and recieving a hug. Some professional photographer had captured the whole thing.

John’s pictures are captioned: Whoaaa glad to see these two back together!

“They used to be, heh,” you chuckle dryly to yourself as you read the tweet outloud. “Inseparable, wow. Remind me to call John up later and yell at him until he cries.”

“Wh — what happened between you two?”

“Me and John? Nothing much, we were good friends,” you shrug.

“No — [y/n], c’mon . . .” Ramona groans.

“It would take,” you sigh. “So much time, and so much energy for me to tell that story right now. I don’t have it in me, Ramona, I just . . . I just want to go home.”

“The place is surrounded by paparazzi, they’re harassing every celebrity that leaves the building, and I’m pretty sure your high on their watchlist right now.”

“Yeah, I’ve mastered the art of ignoring them, I’ll be fine, just call me a ride, please,” you grumble, setting the iPad down and rising to your feet.

She sighs, giving in, giving up, “There’s one waiting for you out front.”

“Thank you,” you nod.

Your belongings are removed from the room first, carried down by an accommodating bellhop. Ramona followed you down to the lobby, trailing you, like she always did. But keeping a closer eye on you than usual. You stopped in front of the revolving door, lips pursed in a look of annoyance as you came face to face with the hoard of paparazzi.

They noticed you through the glass before you had the chance to take a breath, and if you stood still for too long, you feared it would show as weakness, a reason to be suspicious. So, you held your head up tall, took in a deep breath, and stepped into the spotlight.

You’ve mastered the look of constantly-tired-business-woman-chic. Today, you’re running off a cup of coffee, and as always, throw on jeans and a graphic t-shirt. Comfortable shoes, because those heels destroyed your feet last night.

It’s a short walk to the car, but a million and one pictures are taken of you. You smile, respectfully, do a little wave. Don’t want to look too bitter. You drown out the questions, drown out the comments, because you swear if you hear his name, you’ll roll your eyes.

Ramona gets into the car after you, and closes the door. You let out a long sigh, and sulk in your seat. “This sucks,” you mumble, the car staring the ten minute drive to your home.

“Okay, [y/n] Gubler,” she replies.

“Hey!” You sit up. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she whines. “I knew something was off last night. I could’ve helped you avoid him, I could’ve gotten his car towed, I could’ve sent him the wrong address. You just have to communicate.”

“That is . . . unprofessional, and Matthew Gubler is, apparently, very professional. And he . . .” you trail off.

“He . . ? What?”

“He, donated a very healthy amount of money to the program, which, has nothing to do with me, by the way. None of it has anything to do with me, he’s just . . . professional.” You roll your eyes.

“What the hell happened between you two?” Ramona asks, noticing your shift in tone.

“Ooh, damn!” You ignore her, looking out the window. “We should’ve stopped and grabbed donuts.”

“Fine,” she surrenders.

You were surprised to find no paparazzi surrounding your penthouse building. Ramona had packed away all your belongings, and sent someone inside to place them in your apartment.

“Stay off social media,” she tells you before you leave. “Okay? No posting.”

“Silent stalking, only. Got it.”

You hold your phone in your hand as you walk into the building, ride the elevator up to the fifth floor. It’s quiet, and it’s what you need right now. To be home alone, with your thoughts.

You crash onto the couch, face first, and groan as you roll over. Last night should’ve been joyous, and fun, and it was. But, it was supposed to be the end. It was supposed to bring peace, knowing that everything you worked for, payed off and went out with a bang.

But, because of him, and John, and these stupid pictures, it’s far from the end. A whole new storm has started, and it’s making you nauseous.

Yet, you can’t keep yourself offline. You spend hours scrolling through tweet upon tweet, instagram post after instagram post, and each and every comment is as gut wrenching as the last. The internet’s made up it’s mind, and you and Matthew Gubler are the perfect couple. You fit together, you look right together, you have history together.

A history that was better left buried.

Because, when it comes up, when you think about, and you think about that one decision that could’ve changed everything . . . you crack. You spiral. You can’t shake it for days. Weeks. You think about him, and what you could’ve been.

It’s a hurricane, and it sweeps you up everytime, even when you know it’s coming.

There’s a knock at the door, and your heart drops. It’s naive, and childish to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s him. Coming to apologize for being a dick. But the idea of it has you racing to the door, and flinging it open before you can think about it.

“Hey, Aunt [y/n]!”

“Hey,” Claire smiles. “We brought donuts.”

This is better.

The seven year old held onto your hand as you guided her and her mother in your apartment. “Oh, my goodness,” you beamed to Dorthy, earning a bright smile from her. “Is Roni with you?” You turned to ask Claire.

“She had to help her mother with something today, but I told her that I had to help you through a serious crisis.”

“Ah,” you nod. “You’ve been online, huh?”

You take a seat with Dorothea on the couch, turn on the TV. “Wanna pick something to watch?” You smile, and she nods happily, taking the remote from you.

You join Claire in the kitchen, and she hands you a cookies and cream donut. You hum happily as you take it from her, take a seat on the counter, “God, thank you.”

She nods, “Yes, I’ve been online. I’ve been tracking everything about you and your big, big night,” she chuckles. “So I was ready to run over here when I saw those pictures going around.”

“You saw them?” You gasp, horrified, with the donut hanging from your mouth.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t remember when they were taken, though?”

“Vegas, 2001,” you tell her. “You didn’t �� you didn’t come with us.”

She sighs, tilts her head at you, “[y/n] . . .”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you nod, reassuringly. “I’m not going down a Matthew rabbit hole. Not right now. Y’know why? Because he is an ass, he’s rude, and disrespectful, and stirs shit up for no reason, and —“

“Whoa!” Claire exclaims. “Did I enter a time portal to 1999 or something?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you roll your eyes.

“[y/n], you knew seeing Matthew was a possibility last night, and that it would bring back all these emotions, and you swore you could handle it —“

“I did handle it! I handled it very, very well. He’s the one who lost his cool. You should’ve heard him, Claire,” you ramble. “Nothing I did tonight has anything to do with you? I’m a professional? I didn’t do it to cushion your feelings? He’s a dick! He — he threw everything in my face the minute he could, and now my name is connected to his, our history is out there for everyone to see, and . . . he probably fucking hates me,” you laugh.

You laugh.

It’s a dry laugh, a sad laugh.

Claire frowns, and steps over to you, putting her arm around your shoulders.

“He hates me,” you say. “And he probably has every reason to. But I can handle it. I can handle the emotions, I’ve handled them for a long time,” you look at her. “And it’s not my fault if he can’t do the same, right?”

Claire sighs, pushes your hair back, “No.” She shakes her head. “No, you’ve moved on. You should want him to do the same thing, and not cause anymore hurt. You deserve that.”

“Mom! Aunt [y/n]!” Dorthy calls from the couch. Her head pops up, and she grins at you two. “Best and Ballet is on!”

“Ooh, what show is that?” You chuckle, hopping down from the counter. “I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Hey,” Claire calls, grabbing onto your arm before you can walk into the living room. “It’s like everything else in show business, right? People will talk for a few days, maybe a week, right? And then it’ll fade. It’ll pass.”

You give her a nod, let her know that you hear her, and that you’re going to push through this. Because you have no choice. Because above being a celebrity, a figurehead, a boss, a producer . . . you’re a teacher. A damn good one, and the last person who’s going to change that is Matthew Gubler.

You pack him away. The idea of him. Tie him off with a neat, little bow.

Because the show must go on.

“Rolling!”

You walk across the studio, behind the cameras, watching your students on screen. “Can you get a wide shot? You’re not getting the best lighting, nor every student in one shot.” You say to the cinematographer.

“[y/n],” the director calls. “We film from this angle every episode. Why change it?”

“Because every episode, some of my best dancers are cut from the shot beside of sloppy angles and the light from the windows blinds the mirrors the cameras?”

“Those are things out of our control.”

“Oh, yeah?” you turn to him. “You wanna tell that to someone who didn’t go to film school? . . . Twice?”

He gulps, motions to the cinematographer, “Change the shot.”

You grin, order the camera woman to make the correct adjustments, “See?” You beam. “No glare.”

You walk off, Ramona trailing behind you, giving the director a pitiful smile. Once you’re away from the cameras, and the studio, you grumble, “Remind me to never be talked into hiring a male director again.

“You’re turning into Medusa.”

“What?” You look at her, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What? You’ve never seen Grey’s Anatomy? Medusa? Turns people into stone? A . . . bitch?”

“Actual Medusa was not a bitch, she was cursed by a man.”

“Okay, fair, you were cursed by a man —“

“Dooooon’t!” You roll your eyes. “I’m not Medusa, I’m very nice.”

“You’re nice to me, and to your students, and the nice ladies that do your hair and makeup. Everyone else, stone.”

“Stop.”

“I wish you would tell me what happened,” she groans. “It’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone! I’m just, worried about you, and a little nosey.”

“Ramona . . . it’s been how long since that weekend?”

“Well, well,” she stutters. “Only a week.”

“A week is a long time, I’ve moved on. I’ve avoided any and all questions on the subject, from everyone. I’ve been actively dodging it on social media. I’m doing well.”

She nods.

“Now,” you continue to walk down the hall. “I have a talk show interview tonight? What time do I have to be there?”

You stop when you realize Ramona isn’t following you. You turn around, and she stuck in her spot.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Can’t move. Been turned to stone.”

You hated the Medusa comparison wholeheartedly. But, right now, you just want to yell at whoever booked you for a late night talk show. You’re tired after a long day of work, and you’re cranky, and crabby, and maybe, just maybe . . . the comparison isn’t too far off right now.

You’re charming, sure. Let’s go with that. But now, it’s all starting to dawn on you. Here, in this dressing room that’s lit up like a christmas tree. Revealing every ounce of exhaustion in your face, in your eyes. It’s nearly ten o’clock at night, and you’re placed in an elegant, black dress that stops just above your knees. Black heels cover your feet, and your hair and makeup were done half an hour ago.

You have to figure it out. You test different ones out in the mirror. Different smiles. You have to nail the I-have-to-talk-about-myself-for-an-hour-and-laugh smile. The happy, glowing, kind smile. You think you have it when there’s a knock on the door.

You keep the smile on, don’t want to lose it. You call Ramona in, and she looks at you, curiously. “You okay?”

“Yep,” you nod, brightening your smile. “Show time?”

“Are — are you having a stroke?”

“Okay, I’m trying to put on my interview face here, you’re not helping.”

“Sorry, sorry, you look great!” You smiles.

“Ramona,” you whisper, stepping close to her. “There’s a good chance they’re gonna ask me about him, right?”

She takes a breath in, prepared to answer, but no words come out. Your eyes are wide, innocent, hopeful. And she hates to lie to you.

“Yes . . .” is all she can say. “There is a, very, very good chance they will ask you about him.”

You sigh, duck your head. And when you pick it back up, your smile is on. “Okay, let’s go.” You step out into the hallway, Ramona closing the door behind you.

It was a time portal. The door. The hallway.

Matthew’s eyes land on you at the same time you see him, and you both freeze. Ramona bites at her nails, anxiously eyeing the two of you.

You feel your body, your soul, revert. Regress in every way to embody the spirit of you, at age 18, about 18 years ago.

You scoff, meaning your next words with every fiber of your being, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@ncsls0515

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

@calm-and-doctor

@spencerreid-mgg

@reidsconverse

@sizzlingclamturtlesludge

#mine #tg #mgg #mgg fic #matthew gray gubler #esny

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cosmiceverafter · 3 years

Note

20 for the touch asks?

20. bandaging/stitching up an injury

@chamblerstara / @manesalex - sorry this took me so long, but I hope you enjoy it. It was wonderful writing for our boys again. Thank you for the inspiration. ❤

***

I'll take care of you.

Alex missed Michael, which was why he had picked up a 6-pack from the local market and was now standing outside of the alien's trailer even though a windstorm had just passed through Roswell.

They were both single, and any time they were together, the air seemed to grow thick with desire. It was undeniable. Not that Alex wanted to deny it, not anymore.

It was crystal clear at this point that Alex's heart would always belong to Michael. Whether the alien felt the same...well, that's what Alex wanted to find out.

Taking a deep breath, he commanded his feet to step closer to the metal door. With a tap, tap, tap of his knuckles, Alex waited patiently.

After a moment, he heard a shuffle and then something dropping to the ground.

"Michael?" Alex called out, suddenly worried. When he didn't hear a reply, Alex pounded with his fist. "Michael, are you in there? Are you okay?"

Finally, he heard Michael say, "Alex, I'm fine. Just...come back later."

But Michael wasn't okay—Alex could tell by the tone of his hoarse voice. "Open the damn door, Michael."

When he heard a loud curse, the door opened up by itself with the help of his love's powers. It always sent a thrill through Alex to witness it.

Alex took all but two seconds to maneuver his body into the airstream, and that was when he saw Michael huddled over his small bed, shirtless with blood trailing down his back.

"Damn..." Alex hissed out as he took in the sight of the alien's body. He rushed over to Michael.

"I've been working out," Michael quipped, shifting to give Alex a half-grin.

Alex ignored Michael's deflecting. "What the hell happened, Guerin?"

Michael winced as he sat onto the bed, "Nothing. Just a stupid accident. It's fine."

"I swear to God, Michael—"

The alien put his hands up, "Okay, okay, Manes. Don't get your blood pressure cookin'."

Alex frowned, raising an eyebrow, "Well? Tell me."

Michael smirked and tilted his head to the side, "Yea' know, you're pretty sexy when you get in protective control mode."

Alex's heart fluttered, but he shook his head, getting even closer to Michael. "Please, just tell me what happened."

Michael's humorous expression fell. He glanced down at his hand, which Michael had finally uncovered, "I went out in the middle of the desert to analyze my new equipment, and it didn't go according to plan."

"Which equipment would that be?"

"I didn't tell you?" Michael asked, confused.

"No..." Alex answered, feeling put out over that fact. There had been a time not too long ago, where they were working closely together side-by-side. What had changed? And why did it hurt so badly that it was no longer the case?

Michael winced as he twisted his upper body to grab a wet rag. "I am trying to build a device, well, a pod-like type structure to communicate..." He suddenly looked up, and if Alex didn't know any better, embarrassment was showing upon Michael's handsome scruffy face.

"With your kind?"

"Somethin' like that."

With a reassuring smile, Alex sat on the far side of Michael's tiny bed, "That's amazing, Guerin. Any success so far?"

Michael shook his head in disappointment, his curls swaying, "I thought maybe I had gotten somewhere with the damn thing...I heard somethin', but just before I could examine what I was actually catching, that damn windstorm came out of nowhere and blew one of the metal rods directly onto my back."

Shit. "Did it break?"

"Yes, unfortunately. It got pretty messed up." Michael groaned and rubbed his hand over his face, "I clearly won't be attempting it again any time soon."

Michael stood up with a hard sigh and attempted to reach behind his back to wipe the cut.

"Can I help you?" Alex asked before he realized the words were out of his mouth.

Michael tensed but acknowledged Alex with a stiff nod, "Sure. Thanks."

Alex took a deep breath and stood up, taking the rag from Michael, trying to ignore the thrill he felt at their fingers touching. Only Michael made his body come alive like this—Alex never wanted the feeling to disappear.

Gently, Alex touched the rag onto the deep cut, and Michael hissed. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Michael responded. "Here, let me turn on a bit more light." With his powers, a lantern slowly illuminated the small space with a glow.

It was the first time, in far too long, that Alex could observe Michael's body properly. In the light, Michael's skin shone as the moon covers the sand with sparkling dust. His beautiful curls twisted and turned, capturing the light as it touched his soft tan neck.

Alex swallowed and demanded his attention to Michael's injury. With deliberate action on his part, Alex wiped the blood away and could see Michael gripping at his jeans. "Maybe we should have Kyle come look at this. You may need stitches."

"Nah, it's late, and the good doctor probably has far more important patients to look after."

But you are important, Alex wanted to say.

"Besides," Michael added, turning his head, looking Alex up-and-down, "I'm obviously in good hands here."

"We'll see about that," Alex replied with a laugh. "It's been some time since I've had to put my first-aid skills to the test."

"But you learned the skills, right?"

"Yup, in the military, we're trained in all areas."

"Mmm," Michael murmured, "no wonder you're so talented with those hands."

This. This right here was what Alex missed. The playful banter between the two, with that suggestive flirting. It came so naturally to them both, and Alex wanted to soak it up like a sponge. "Hush, let me finish."

"Yes, sir," Michael laughed, swirling back around. Michael propped his muscular arms up against the wall in front of him and bowed his head down.

Alex had to keep reminding himself that Michael was injured and now was not the time to think what he was so desperately imagining at that moment. But it was challenging with Michael bent over like that, his backside so close to the front of Alex's pants.

It had been so long since they had been together like that. Only in Alex's dreams did he allow himself to travel into the memory of bliss once more.

"Okay," Alex said, breaking the silence, "can you sit back on the bed?" He cleared his throat, hoping Michael couldn't hear how low his voice had become. "I'm going to bandage you up now."

Michael glanced back at him as if he caught on to Alex's dirty ideas and nodded, "Yup, I can do that." He sat down and pointed to the dresser, "The bandage is in the first drawer."

"Thanks," Alex said, stepping in front of Michael to retrieve the bandage. When he picked it up, Alex noticed a picture underneath.

It was of them, younger in the desert. Alex was holding his guitar, and Michael was smiling as he stared over at him. Alex could remember the exact day, it had been a lovely day between them, and Alex's chest suddenly felt tight.

"You okay?" Michael asked from behind him.

Alex nodded, not trusting his voice as a wave of emotion came over him. The past connected them, and Alex wondered if the future was theirs for the taking or if they would forever remain in the memories.

"Alex?"

Gripping the bandage, Alex turned around, holding the photograph of them in his other hand, "The picture of us in the desert."

"Oh, yeah," Michael's mouth fell open in surprise. "I forgot I put it in there."

"You kept it, after all this time?"

"Of course I did," Michael replied with a shrug. "We don't have many together."

"Well, we should change that," Alex instantly responded.

"Yeah, I think we should." Michael smiled that beautiful smile of his and laughed, "Should we start now? This moment is quite the experience to share with the world—your incredible wrapping skills and my epic loss to the windstorm."

"It would give the people of Roswell something to talk about," Alex added as he joined in with laughter. "That's for sure."

"As if they need more to discuss. Hell, we have enough tourists trying to spot little green aliens!"

Alex smirked, "I'll just add the caption, 'Just wrapping up a cowboy alien, who's anything but green. How's your night going?'"

"Yee-haw! I like it!" Sharing a good laugh, Alex put the picture back into the drawer and closed his eyes, hoping for more moments shared such as these.

Beyond the humor, it wasn't a deep conversation of their future together, but it was, in fact, a door opening.

Feeling a deep sense of relief, Alex finally came back towards Michael and sat behind him. Letting his abilities take over, he started wrapping the bandage around Michael, allowing his fingers to trail over Michael's chest greedily. The light moment between them had shifted; now, another emotion took its place.

Alex pushed up closer to Michael's back, and he could smell Michael's scent: Bourbon, rust, and rain. It was 100% Michael, and it felt like coming home.

Michael sighed and seemed to lean back without even recognizing he was moving. Alex steadied him and peered down at Michael's back. The bandage covered the injury nicely, and Alex's lips hovered just above Michael's skin. He wanted nothing more than to press a soft kiss right there as he had so many times before.

The alien trembled as if he could sense what Alex desired. The invisible string that pulled Alex in was a smooth ride; pulling away was the challenging resistance.

"All finished."

Michael turned to face Alex, and his fingers grazed the back of Alex's hand. "Thank you. I appreciate those gifted hands of yours."

Alex beamed, enjoying the compliment probably a bit too much, "Anytime." He meant it. Alex would always be there for Michael.

They gazed at each other, which felt like an eternity and a flash of a second all in one. It was so easy to get lost in those eyes.

Finally, Michael shook his head and moved away, snapping Alex out of his trance, "Sorry, I didn't even ask why you stopped by tonight."

"I just wanted to see you," Alex answered truthfully. "I even brought you something you like."

"What is that? You?"

Alex blushed, but luckily it was still too dark in the airstream for Michael to witness, "A delicious elixir of sorts." He nodded towards the beer.

"Not as good, but a very close second," Michael laughed as he set his warm hand on Alex's leg. "You're so thoughtful, Manes."

"What can I say? I try to be," Alex said, raising an eyebrow. The flirting was strong tonight, not that Alex was complaining.

"Who knew you'd have to take care of an alien instead?"

"I didn't mind," Alex shrugged. "Truly."

Michael squeezed Alex's leg and bit into his lip. His expression was somewhat changing, "I have something to ask you."

"Okay...shoot."

"Will you help me?"

"I thought I already had." Michael narrowed his eyes, and Alex smirked, "Help you with what, Michael?"

"With my communicator? I can't do it alone, and with my genius of a brain and those magnificently talented hands of yours, I think we could create some magic here." Yes, they could. In more ways than one. Getting serious, Michael looked down at the blanket on his bed, "I should've asked you a while ago."

"You're asking me now. That's what matters," Alex replied. "I would love to help create with you, Guerin."

"That's what I was hoping you'd say."

Alex smiled, feeling love for Michael pour out of his heart. He would create it all with Michael if only given a chance to do so. "While you rest that shoulder of yours, explain your vision, and we'll go from there."

Michael returned the grin and started expressing what he imagined within that brilliant mind of his, never faltering and never losing the gleam in his eyes.

This moment was proof that even though they had been through hell and back, the two of them could face any challenge—weather any storm.

Together, Michael and Alex could conquer the galaxy as long as they had each other.

#malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #michael x alex #alex manes #michael guerin #tw: injury #this was a lot longer than i intended

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

Group Hang

..........me again. i haven’t written in so long and it feels good to start it up again. this time it’s a human au. just fluff and aelin’s bad cooking and rowan defending her bad cooking because he actually likes it

3083 words

When Aelin had suggested a dinner at their house for the next group hangout, Rowan was more than happy to accommodate that suggestion.

The last hangout was bowling, and while Rowan excelled at many sports, bowling was strangely not one of them. He almost got banned from the local one when he started swearing his head off when his last bowl was close to becoming a strike when it veered to the side and didn't knock down a single pin.

All their friends behind him starting laughing, Aelin too, when he started going on about how the floor was uneven, the game was rigged and just had a general hissy fit that he never had in his entire adult life.

To be fair, he had one too many beers and it was hot as hell in the bowling alley, the air conditioner barely working that night. So he blamed those conditions on his attitude.

To make it worse, Aelin had managed to snap a picture of him sulking in his seat, posted it on her Instagram with the caption 'when your old man sucks at bowling and comes last'. Rowan hadn't realised it until the morning when he woke up to dozen of notifications from people tagging him and laughing.

Apparently, according to his comment, Fenrys saved the picture and made it Rowan's contact photo. With others saying that they were going to do the same.

Even Lorcan, the stoic bastard, had found it funny.

Aelin laughed at his expression as they laid in bed together, and laughed harder when he sputtered, “I'm only five years older than you!” and fucked her with the vigorous strength of a thirty year old healthy man (Aelin had never climaxed so hard, which made Rowan puff up with pride afterwards, with Aelin rolling her eyes, even though her blood was singing in her veins and a dopey grin was on her face—it was her her secret joy to ruffle Rowan's feathers whenever she could).

So yes, while the aftermath of the bowling night was much better than his losing, he was more than glad to have a quiet night at home; although his friends weren't really the quiet bunch, especially when Aelin, Lysandra and Fenrys had one too many.

However, what he wasn't expecting when he and Aelin went grocery shopping that Saturday morning was when Aelin claimed that she was going to be cooking.

Now, Rowan loved Aelin, loved her so much that he had started planning the night he would propose to her, but the thing about Aelin was that she couldn't cook—at all.

But he grew to love her cooking; came to love the burned crunch that always accompanied it, came to love the under-cooked and overcooked food, loved the dryness of what she piled on his plate when it was her night to cook, the lumpy and misshapen cakes that she made whenever the desire to bake came to her.

Aelin was skilled in many things and cooking was just something she completely sucked at—like Rowan and his bowling. Truly, he didn't mind, although it did stump him how she managed to ruin a sandwich when she sometimes made his lunch for him for work.

Unfortunately, their friends were not him. Dorian, Gods bless him, still went on about the time Aelin accidentally gave him food poisoning on his twenty-first birthday with the homemade cake she gifted him.

Which was why Rowan was the cook in the relationship. His father was a chef and while Rowan wasn't as good as him, he knew enough to cook well and how to present food on a plate.

While they started their weekly shop, Aelin claimed that she was making lasagna, and Rowan was all ready prepared for the under-cooked pasta sheets, salty marinara sauce and overly milky Béchamel sauce and dry mince meat.

He offered to help but she said she would be fine. They continued their shop, with Rowan always appreciating the sight when she had to bend over to pick up something, with Aelin in turn appreciating the sight of Rowan's muscles moving smoothly when he reached for something on the high top shelves.

So here they were, hours later, Rowan watching Aelin as she moved around their kitchen, adding things in from time to time (he was fairly certain he saw her dump some cinnamon in the mince meat, but didn't say anything). She did ask for his help to stir the Béchamel sauce as she made her homemade salad dressing (which would more than have too much olive oil in it, but again, Rowan didn't mind).

He noticed that the sauce was lumpy and on closer inspection, realised that it was large chunks of onion (and why were there large onion chunks? Because she was wanted an obscene amount of onion, she said when he asked about it).

It smelled good though when it was all done and his stomach grumbled as it rested on the kitchen counter, with Aelin rushing to have a quick shower.

Her quick shower always meant twenty minutes, but Rowan tidied the kitchen as she showered and placed the store-bought garlic bread in the oven when the doorbell rang.

Sighing at the incoming whining that would occur when everyone realised that Aelin had cooked, Rowan trudged over to the front door, painted a beautiful shade of Terrasen green.

Rowan barely opened his mouth to greet everyone before they made themselves at home—Fenrys holding a large pink box from Nesryn's bakery, but the woman wasn't in the group, she had a dinner with her fiance's family tonight.

What did surprise him was Yrene's curly head as she walked in with Chaol, the man's hand wrapped tightly on his walking stick as the couple made their way inside. Yrene was a nurse at Terrasen hospital and worked insane hours, so it was a nice surprise to see her.

Dorian and Manon walked in, the latter holding three bottles of Dorian's fathers expensive wine (which either one of them probably took without asking), her black diamond engagement ring sparkling even at night. Dorian claimed that he stole it from his father when he was a teenager and he never even noticed, apparently his father didn't bat an eye when he saw the ring on his future daughter-in-law's ring finger.

Elide and Lorcan followed Lysandra and Aedion, the dark haired man having to duck slightly to walk inside.

The only people missing, other than Nesryn and Sartaq, were Vaughn and Connall—but he knew that the last two were now working night shifts and that it would be hard to catch up with them from now on. Nehemia too, as she was currently on vacation visiting her parents.

Aedion sniffed at the air as they all made themselves comfortable in the lounge room. “Where did you guys order from? It doesn't smell too bad.” And truthfully, the food did smell good—that was something that surprised Rowan about Aelin's cooking, that while somehow everything tasted bad, it always smelled like it came from a five star restaurant.

“Aelin cooked lasagna,” he said and all eyes turned to him, “and there's plenty for everyone,” he added, before any of them could make some flimsy, bullshit excuse about how one of them should maybe order a pizza.

“What do you mean, she cooked?” Dorian asked, eyes wider than everyone else's. His tone implying that she somehow managed to create a radioactive bomb.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “I mean, she's been in the kitchen all evening preparing a dinner for all of us, so you better shut up and eat it, is what I mean when I say she's cooked.”

The timer went off for the garlic bread so Rowan went into the kitchen, but before he did, he deliberately locked the front door, making sure everyone watch him do it.

He wasn't about to let them upset Aelin just because she was a bad cook.

“Yrene, do you have, like, a food poisoning kit on you, by any chance?” Dorian asked.

Yrene snorted. “No, Dorian, you'd have to go to the hospital for that.”

“Oh, Gods,” he cried.

“Dorian,” Chaol sighed, having witnessed many moments of Dorian acting like he was minutes away from dying. “You're twenty-five now, and you're not dead. I'm certainly not, and I dated Aelin for a year.”

“Yeah, when you were eighteen and she was seventeen, I don't think she even went near an oven at that age.” Dorian and Chaol were Aelin's oldest friends, as well as Elide, so they would know.

“I can hear you, you know,” Rowan said from the open kitchen, cutting the garlic bread in equal slices.

“It's okay,” Fenrys said, smiling. “I've got cake from Nesryn's and Manon has good wine, so tonight will be salvageable.”

Rowan pointed the knife at his friend, silently telling him to shut up.

Aelin chose that moment to exit the bathroom, her towel wrapped tightly around herself. Her smile was warm as she smiled at everyone and greeted them. “I'll be done in a couple of minutes, so everyone sit at the dining table. Rowan, could you see to the serving?”

“Of course.” She quickly came over to place a kiss on his cheek and rushed for the bedroom. Everyone went to the table, Dorian acting like he was walking to the electric chair, Manon rolling her eyes at his theatrics.

The glass dish was still hot as hell, so Rowan walked over carefully, hands wrapped in giraffe oven mitts, Lorcan snorting at the sight.

“Shut up,” Rowan muttered as he placed the dish down, took the mitts off and started cutting up the lasagna. He plonked down the slices, pointedly looking at everyone as he did so (except Yrene and Chaol—the young nurse saying that she's had worse cafeteria food, quickly throwing a no offence when she realised what she said, and Chaol, like he had stated, he had Aelin's food before and was fine—joking that his spinal injury was from a freak accident rather then from Aelin's cooking).

Dorian still didn't look happy, and Fenrys was frowning at his plate. Elide poked at it with her fork, Manon inspecting it with narrowed eyes. Lorcan was stoic as always.

“I swear to the Gods I can smell cinnamon,” Lysandra said. “Rowan, did Aelin put cinnamon in this?”

Rowan shrugged and acted like he didn't know.

Sitting down, Rowan looked at his friends and said, “I know Aelin's cooking isn't the greatest—”

“She's definitely not winning any prizes in the future,” Aedion muttered but promptly shut up at the scathing glare that Rowan sent his way.

“But she's been in the kitchen all evening, as I said before, and she's really excited for you guys to try it. It may be under-cooked and dry, but you if you cannot even afford the common decency to offer her respect after making everything from scratch and act like adults instead of sulking children, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave. And Dorian, do not bring up food poisoning for the rest of the night."

Rowan got mumbled apologies, with the man feeling like a scolding father, but they all sat up straight as Aelin entered, dressed and her hair thrown into a messy bun.

They all dug in, and as expected, the lasagna sheets were under-cooked, the Béchamel sauce a little too milky and far too onion-y, the marinara sauce too salty and there was definitely a hint of cinnamon in the meat, but everyone ate it, with Lorcan claiming that it wasn't too bad—which was high praise coming from him, but then again, it could be a lie, he was fairly good at that, something Rowan knew from experience. The salad did have too much olive oil, but the dressing was nice.

Dorian, though, still looked like he was being sent to his death, but ate his food, only lightly gagging once. Aelin didn't notice, thankfully, too caught up in her conversation with her cousin about the upcoming Whitethorn family reunion that she and Rowan were expected to attend. They both had mixed feelings about it since Rowan had a large family and he couldn't stand a number of his cousins and everyone would bring up his dead parents, whose death still hurt even after ten years, as they passed away suddenly. Aelin wasn't looking forward to it, since one of his cousin's was dating his ex-girlfriend Remelle and Aelin could not stand the woman for multiple reasons.

Everyone ate everything on their plates and once the wine was emptied and the cake reduced to crumbs, everyone left, thanking Aelin and Rowan for their hospitality and everyone starting to suggest what the next night out would be as they left.

Aelin and Rowan cleaned in tandem, Aelin changing into her stag pyjamas as Rowan had a quick shower himself (which was actually a quick one) and soon joined her in bed, kissing her cheek as she settled in for the night, picking up his current read.

After long minutes, Aelin said, “I heard what you said to everyone.” Rowan's eyes snapped over to hers, finding Aelin lying on her side, a soft smile on her face. “Is my cooking really that bad?”

“Not to me,” he said truthfully. “I like your brand of cooking.”

“Even the burnt toast?”

“Especially the burnt toast.”

Aelin leaned over and kissed him on the lips, once, twice, three times. “I can't believe that Dorian still goes on about the food poisoning. I think he'll still be going on about it when he's on his death bed.”

Rowan snorted at the imagery that popped up. “He probably would.”

“I have to admit that I liked how authoritative you sounded,” Aelin said, “it turned me on more than it should have.”

Rowan ran a hand up and down her arm. “I'll have to use it more often then.”

“You will,” Aelin agreed, leaning in to kiss him again. Aelin snuggled into him, tucking her head under his jaw with Rowan wrapping his arms around her.

Rowan was on the verge of drifting off when he felt Aelin placed her chin on his chest. “Rowan?”

“Hmm?”

“Rowan, will you marry me?”

He woke up at that and found Aelin's blue and gold eyes shining brightly in the lamp light. “Pardon?” was all he could manage.

Sitting up, Aelin placed a hand over his heart, Rowan's hand covering hers instinctively. Giving him a beautiful smile, the one he fell in love with, she said clearly, “Rowan, I love you so much that I can't even put it into words how much I love you—but I do know this; you're my soulmate and I don't ever want to be away from you. I love you with everything I am. So, Rowan, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?”

Tears filled Rowan eyes as he looked at the woman he loved with everything he had. “Of course, I will.”

Crying happily, Aelin launched herself at him, kissing him wildly, wrapping her arms around him. Until she suddenly pulled away and almost fell off the bed in her haste to reach for the velvet box she had hidden in the bottom draw of her nightstand.

Inside it was a gold ring, inlaid with a brilliant ruby and engraved in the band were the words 'to whatever end', their promise to each other.

The ring fitted him perfectly and Rowan sat up, capturing her face in his warm hands as he kissed her, their tears falling.

Pulling back, Rowan gave her a smile and went to his own nightstand and showed Aelin the velvet box he had hidden away. Aelin gasped in delight at the sight of it, a wide blooming on her face as he opened it and saw his mother's gold and emerald ring.

Also engraved in it were the words 'to whatever end'.

Aelin was sure she was going to die from pure happiness.

“Aelin, I love you more than anything. I'm so glad I met you in that dingy gym all those years ago. And I don't ever want to be away from you, too. Will you do me the honour of being my wife?”

“Yes, of course, yes,” she said, crashing into him again. Rowan's fingers shook as he placed the ring on her finger. “Thank you for loving me and all my bad cooking.”

Rowan laughed heartily and kissed her soundly. “Thank you for loving me and all my sucking at bowling.”

“You really are bad at it,” she said, laughing.

“I know,” he agreed, kissing her.

This was better than any idea he originally thought of when he started thinking of ways to propose. And it was perfectly Aelin that she proposed first, considering that she was the one that asked him out first all those years ago, to say 'I love you' and to ask to find a house and be Adults together with a mortgage and everything it entailed.

And in the morning, after a rare sleep in, she called her parents and told them the news, Evalin barely able to get any words out as Aelin told them how it happened, even Rhoe, who was a bit of a stoic man, teared up at the story.

They went to their favourite cafe afterwards, getting a slice of chocolate cake on the house as Aelin told their regular waitress their news.

They went to the local garden, after visiting his parents grave, with Aelin snapping a picture of their jewelled hands, the sun making their rings sparkle in a brilliant glow and posted it on her Instagram with a simple caption stating, 'We both said yes'.

Rowan posted the same photo, the first he had in months, since he didn't post often, and he much preferred the streams of congratulations that came their way, their phones soon blowing up with calls after calls.

And as the the sun shone brighter on the beautiful day, Aelin let loose a snorting laugh that had her choking when Dorian pleaded, “Please don't bake your wedding cake. I really don't want to be sick on your special day, I'll feel like an arsehole.”

Rowan promised that she wouldn't and laced his fingers in his fiance's hands as they went to his car towards their home, deciding that last night was the best group hang that they ever had.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

Welcome to baby land (Ben 10)

it was a tale as old as time, one that had happened before, would happen this day and despite the fall out from today's events would happen again in the future.

A young boy, fueled by fetish desires and spending hour after hour, day after day bringing himself to the peak as he looked at his chosen fetish, only to pull back last second.

Because the boy knows for what he wants, for what he's going to do.. he needs that desperate pent up denial of release to shut down his common sense. to make him nice and dumb.

His name was Ben Tennyson, and up until a short while ago he had been the hero of the universe and earth. But that was before the watch had been taken, and given to his cousin Gwen who had been picked as being a most reasonable hero. with cutting remarks that he would of never gotten the watch for as long as he had had it's marker realized who was wearing it, and being called to immature.. was it any wonder a bitter and dejected Ben cut himself off from his extended family and drove into the world of porn?

never mind he had beaten off a alien invasion, a 'pants peeing doofus' couldn't be trusted with the watch.

Fine. whatever. if they wanted to look at him as a stupid big baby.. that's what he'd become.

He didn't even like diapers at first when he started, but well.. porn has a way of warping a young boy's mind. Looking at picture after picture, caption after caption and reading the stories Ben for all intents and purposes turned himself in a diaper boy, and a humiliation junkie.

Taking birthday money he even found and brought a package of punishment diapers meant for shaming (though he got it at a discount as the shop was being put out of business) that were super thick, boasted how they could hold any mess.. and also claimed they didn't keep any stink from being contained and guaranteed diaper rash if used.

For a porn addicted loser like Ben, this was pure gold and since he paid for rush devilry he got a enema bag and a small bottle of little crampers, the enema for brats.

Ben knew what he wanted, total, public humiliation but he kept ruining it for himself with self pleasure driving the need out of his mind before he could do it.

finally, Mid October the little porn fueled loser decided enough was enough, he was gonna stop wasting his time and the diapers he'd paid for and set himself up to goon. For a week strait he subjected himself to it, and by the time he was done on Sunday night, Monday morning the little loser set himself up to fail.

waking up early, Ben used the whole bottle of little crampers even though it said to just mix 1/8 with a litlre bag for a enema kit, and groaned and whimpered as he used it, hot water and a dash of castor oil in the big enema bag, only his bulky white and black t-shirt hid the preggo belly he gave himself.

getting back to his bedroom and cramping, the soon to be ruined diaper loser looked at the pack of his punishment diapers and having not worn one till today, toyed with layering at first but they just looked too thick.

Settling on one of the bulky diapers with it sobbing crybaby design, he taped it on then tried the tapes, blushing as the package lived up to it's name.

Once taped on it would take 2 hours for the tapes to come back off, he was truly trapped. again a normal boy of Ben's age would of been panicking, realizing they had gone too fair but Ben just breathed fast, and smiled as he picked his baggiest pair of pants and was delighted that they still only JUST hid the diaper, if he bent over his padded shame would be CLEAR.

Getting down stairs and getting breakfast in himself, he was already seated as his parents came down and made small talk with them even as the delightful cramps started to build. (he'd never admit it, well at least before today's events unfolded but he'd grown to like pain, it made his heart beat fast and smile)

Still he couldn't help but squirm and groan a little bit, and got looks of concern from his parents as he finished his bowl of cereal.

"Benny you feeling alright?" His mother asked, coming over and putting a hand to his forehead. "You can stay home today if your not feeling good."

"N-No I'll be alright. just worried about a math test." Ben said, mixing truth with lies,then added: "Besides, you and dad said you were BOTH gonna be out all day today. who'd stay with me?"

"Heh, He's got a point there.. and good on you Ben. I'm proud your being mature enough not to try and get out of a test." His dad said, totally misunderstanding the happy giggle Ben let out.

His father might of thought it was Ben was so happy he was proud of him, But for diaper bitch Benny, the irony of the comment almost made him ruin the fun early.

If Ben's plan had one flaw (well one he'd admit to) it was the fact that he hadn't taken into account how much slower he'd be having to waddle his massive diaper butt to school with the added fun of having to stop 3 times to force himself not to spoil the fun early.

He'd even left a little sooner then normal, his parents had been quick with their breakfast and he 'accidentally' left his house key on the desk in his room and after making sure the front door was locked, went out the back door as you could lock it from the inside while the door was open.

'No getting out of this by running home!' Ben gleefully thought.

He barley made it into homeroom before the bell rang, though since he was known to be tardy from time to time it didn't raise too much attention, get getting a snide comment from his homeroom teacher about gracing them with his presence.

Even better, home was also his math class and that was going to be first period (which was a good thing for the ever so full little perv as his 'chocolate mud baby' wasn't going to stay in him much longer.)

Mr. Fillawick wasted little time in handing out the tests and after a standard warning that he'd tolerate NO cheating and there was going to be NO bathroom breaks, he offered anyone who had to go a chance to use the potty now.

'OK..this is it..your last chance.. you could just say you need to go, and sneak out the school.fill your diapers in the woods and get out of them once the tapes give up.' Ben thought to himself, biting his lip.

it wouldn't be destroying himself in class and getting him labeled stinky baby for the rest of the year, but it would land him in hot water with the school and his parents and he'd run the risk of being seen outside right?

He almost started to raise his hand when his inner pervert took over and he just turned it into brushing his hand though his hair.

"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you. you'll have a hour to do the test. good luck." Mr. Fillawick said and shrugged, going back to his desk and sitting down, doing whatever it was teachers did.

Five minutes later and Ben was in a mixture of heaven and hell. he was twitching and sweating a little bit, his pencil twitching in his hand even as he started to leak in little bursts against the front of his diapie.

the cramps were at the point of no return and even if Ben said fuck it and got up to run, he wouldn't of made it more then five steps.

all he'd managed to do so far was write his name on the test and the date, then the cramps had gone over board.

'Ok..Ok.. this was a mistake.. I've leaked enough boy milk to see that.. maybe.. maybe I can still just.. get out..of..' Ben thought, going white knuckled as he gripped the side of his desk with his left hand as a powerful cramp hit, a low rumbling fart coming out his backside though the sound was mostly muted.

the smell however was not as the diapers lived up to their claims and Kids around Ben wrinkled their noses and looked around looking for the source of the smell and eyes zeroing in on his as he was blushing.

"Mr. Fillawick? I think Ben needs to go to the bathroom." A redhead boy behind him said. "Or at Least can he be moved to the back of the classroom.

"Mr. Tennyson had his chance for that Mr. Randal. and I prefer he stay where I can keep a eye on him." Came the teachers amused answer.

even as the class giggled and laughed, two more rotten poots escaped and there was open cries of disgust.

"Gah, at least open a window!"

"What did you have to eat this morning, a skunk!?"

Ben whimpered and squirmed, he had the whole class basically looking at him now and the teasing and taunts had brought his pervert side back up to full power.

'It's now or never.' Ben thought, though he also knew wasn't really a option. it was more like Now or never if he wanted a semblance of control over the act.

it helped he was trembling lots now but Mr. Fillawick who'd never cared for Ben much since he was a rowdy student only watched with sadistic glee.

Ben's Pencil 'accidentally' shook out of his hand and rolled off the desk and onto the floor, and Ben made a show of just reaching into his desk to find anther one.

"Mr. Tennyson, whatever your habits in your own room may be, I run a clean Classroom." the smirking teacher said. "Bend down and point up that pencil."

"Uh..but..If I-" Ben started, putting the perfect crybaby whine in his voice.

"You'll what? fart? like you haven't been doing that already?" the teacher shot back.

Putting on a show of being embarrassed and scared (he was embarrassed but his heart was beating fast) Ben leaned over the right side of his desk and there was a gasp from the students behind him as one thing he hadn't planned on happened.

"BEN'S WEARING A DIAPER!" Hooted Crash.

"A BABY DIAPER!" a blond girl added.

"More like a BIG baby diaper!" Randal noted with amusement.

Somehow his pants must of lowered enough to flash off his embarrassing diaper! Oh god! for all of 2.4 seconds trued to stop what was about to happen but the act of leaning over had been the final trigger.

as the enema finally worked it's magic and the back of his diaper started to swell up Ben could only hear the roar of his mess and though tear filled eyes almost could swear he could see image of him in just diapers and a bib, tapping a shovel on a grave that had been filled in. the tombstone read:

RIP Ben's self respect.

as the force of the mess made Ben fall forward, landing face down and ass up, his pants failing down more so everyone could watch his diapers load up in the back (thankfully they wouldn't be able to tell what he was doing in the front!) The image of baby Ben came over and looked down with a grin at the real one.

"Welcome to baby land~ no going back now."

As Ben's life was ruined, and he was designed to never be able to get that 'excited' again unless he was crapping brains out(heck, he was going to be pulled from school and his parents would begin his new big baby life, treating him like the baby they thought he wanted to be, not knowing he was just a humiliation junkie) Charmcaster smirked in her jail cell.

Sure having to watch all the events unfold from sitting into of a toilet wasn't the way she'd hope to see the spell play out, not to mention it had been that bitch Gwen she had targeting, but this worked out in the end.

Gwen would suffer being the cousin of the big stinky baby and would likely end up having to change him and it wouldn't be too long now before her uncle broke her out. wincing as Ben started to baby babble though she did have one moment's regret.

'I mean, I'm evil and wanna take over the world but was making him a diaper perv too far?' She wondered, then smiled. 'Naaaah!'

The end

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armysantiny · 3 years

Text

Ateez Headcanon; Their s/o is a fantasy nerd.

Pairing: Ot8 x gender neutral reader

Genre: fluff, fantasy (kinda), headcanon

Includes: movies, tv shows, merch, movie nights, playthroughs, gifts,

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: n/a

Rating: PG

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @kpopscape, @ultkpopnetwork, @kpopcontentcreatorsclub, @k-dinernet, @lovesick-net, @whipped-kpop-creators, @kafenetwork, @8makes1teamnet, @ateezlovenet

Taglist: @teeztheflag | Taglist form

An: I had so much fun writing this! Members under the cut!

홍중 (Hongjoong)

Literally so invested

When he sees the sparkle in your eyes as you explain the lore, his heart is doing flips I tell you.

How hadn’t you told him sooner?

Doesn’t say a word while you talk, only going “Mhm~” with stars in his eyes.

If it’s a videogame, or a roleplaying game like D&D, he will practically beg you to give him a crash course in what to do.

“Are you sure you want to learn how to do this Joongie?”

“Mhm! I wanna learn, it looks fun! Just teach me the basics for now~”

Supportive boyfriend right here.

Will look up playthroughs and explanations of the lore in his own time to get a better understanding.

If he knows a little more, than it can be something the both of you enjoy!

If it’s a franchise like LoTR or something similar, he’ll definitely put the movies on when it’s movie night.

Cue Joong asking you about your favourite and least favourite parts about the franchise.

If there are any spin-off titles, he’ll ask if you recommend watching them too.

May end up becoming a fantasy nerd himself.

Makes you little memorabilia whenever he can.

Honestly loves how large your imagination must be for you to be into fantasy.

성화 (Seonghwa)

He kinda just goes “Woah...” at first.

You think he doesn’t like it; he was sitting there more or less speechless.

When he sees your dejected face, Hwa panics.

Because he does like it, he’s just surprised he hadn’t caught on sooner.

Reassures you that he is interested, and pokes at you to continue talking about it.

Cue several cute interested Hwa sounds

Asks if you have any merch you wanna show him.

He hasn’t told you, but he’s started looking into the franchise for himself.

Might not end up being his taste, but he still keeps a small interest in it.

It was something you were interested in after all.

Chuckles to himself when he sees you really into the series.

Something about you excited about the fantasy franchise you were into was endearing.

Always lends an ear to your theories and headcanons

You surprise him-

He swears you’ve just described an entirely new novel to him.

The headcanon is just that detailed.

Definitely encourages you to try creative writing/design courses to see if you could take your interests further

Asks if you want to create your own fantasy series.

Supportive boyfriend #2 over here~

As long as you’re happy, he’s happy.

윤호 (Yunho)

He’s honestly more excited than you are to be honest

Bounces like a child when you describe the lore to him.

If the stars in his eyes could get any brighter, they would. He is literally the pleading eyes emoji

You mention that you’ve created original characters inspired by the franchise, and he almost pounces on you with even more questions.

Will ask if you’ve created a character based off of himself.

Which you have, and when you show him, he gets even more excited - if that’s even possible.

Will ask you to explain the character’s entire backstory.

Falls in love with you even more - if he even can at that point.

Finds every way possible to have you talk about any and everything fantasy related.

Calls you in the middle of the night to listen to you ramble about your latest character design.

Tells all the members that you’ve created a character about him and boasts about it for months.

You might have another fantasy nerd on your hands now.

여상 (Yeosang)

Kind of a fantasy nerd himself.

So, when you reveal that you’re into fantasy, he kinda goes “Oh? Me too!”

Excited giggles from both of you

Cue fantasy themed date nights...you cuties

Curled up in a blanket together with a load of snacks, watching your favourite movies together.

Oh god the theory discussions you two have.

Now you two can call each other at God forbidden times of the night and talk about your favourite series.

Since he’s the only one who knows, he’s glad only he gets to see that excited grin on your face when you talk about the show.

Low-key starts boasting about it too.

Like, only he can see you when you’re this cute, you know?

You’d take his drones away if he told any of the boys about your fantasy shows, so it becomes your shared little secret~

Buys you cosplay pieces so you can dress up as your favourite character.

Compliments you for days.

Literally so pretty :(

Takes a thousand pictures (Yes, he keeps a set as his background)

He’s already dressed up as Harley Quinn, so he’s more than happy to dress up as one of the major ships.

Especially if it’s your favourite ship too.

Conventions! Omg you’d go to as many conventions as you could together.

Couple goals~

Singing to soundtracks together as you get ready.

Definitely uses it as a way to tease you.

Sees you having a fan moment over a character and pretends to get all pouty.

“Your boyfriend’s right here, but you’re only focusing on them? Fine then...”

Laughs when he sees the blush on your face

Of course, he gets the same treatment from you.

Healthy relationships, we love to see it. Now where do I get this?

산 (San)

Cannot control the absolute look of admiration in his face at all.

Looks at you with all the wonder in the world. His eyes’ sparkle :(

It may sound a little confusing at first to him, but hearing you describe it with so much passion warms his heart.

Asks you to take the plot step-by-step, so he can understand it a little better

Watches some of it when he can, and he can definitely see the appeal

Interesting characters, an entirely different world, no wonder you love it so much.

He has his games, and you already knew about them, so he’s happy he knows about you more, ‘hidden’ interests.

When he heard you ask him not to find it weird after you’re caught having a fan moment, he pouts immediately.

Why would he find it weird that you were a fan of something? He was quite the fanboy himself, after all

Spends a considerable amount of time reassuring you that he doesn’t find your interests or you weird.

No one is feeling insecure about liking a franchise that makes them happy on his watch.

Buys you merch as soon as it releases.

Little excited claps when he sees your reaction.

It soon becomes your favourite merch item and he’s so proud.

Sees you wearing it literally wherever you can

When you invite him to have a movie marathon with you after he finishes his schedule, San swears he’s head over heels because he agrees without hesitation.

No second thought required

Be prepares to have several more marathons while he asks a million questions at once.

Might have to create a PowerPoint for this cutie.

민기 (Mingi)

Honestly, he’s kinda lost at first

You kinda have to tell him again and he goes “Oh...I get it!”

Does not get it.

A bit like San, a presentation may be needed at some point.

When he kinda gets it, this baby gets really excited, but he’s almost a little sad.

Because you didn’t tell him until now, you know?

Asks you about the entire main cast, and your favourite character.

Finds you watching your show and quietly sits beside you

He wants to try and understand the plot for himself.

Gets so engrossed, his eyes turn into the pleading eye emoji

He’s so cute, I swear-

Honestly, Mingi finds it so cool that you enjoy fantasy.

“Y/n, can we watch it together from now on? I really like it!”

Yeah, you might end up marrying that man right there and then.

Starts asking you to introduce him to other shows you like that you think he might like as well.

Ends up with a full list and starts watching them all.

I mean all of them

Hell, I think you’ll turn him into a fantasy nerd as well.

Borrows one of your merch hoodies and wears it around the house.

It’s his now :(

Please, he looks so small

You end up buying him a matching hoodie

Refuses to take it off unless he has to.

Listens to all of your fan ravings

Learns about all of your favourite ships.

High-key starts analysing them with you

Yep- you’ve got a fantasy nerd on your hands now, enjoy!

우영 (Wooyoung)

Okay, excited child alert

Another one who literally bounces when you tell him. Gives you puppy eyes for days.

Why didn’t you tell him sooner?

Bugs you constantly about the shows you like and your favourite character.

Which leads him to go on an internet deep-dive (Definitely on Twitter)

He enjoys cooking, so he finds a way to cook the food from the show.

And holy shit it tastes better than you imagined.

Once he sees your reaction, Wooyoung makes it his mission to surprise you with dishes from the show.

Late nights binging your favourite shows together is now a must.

Does kinda laugh a little too loud in your ear, but you’re used to it.

In all truth, you appreciate that he wants to watch it with you

He may be watching it with you, but he also loves seeing your reaction to what’s happening on screen

Please, he thinks you’re the cutest human on earth.

Maybe he takes a picture or two. Maybe

Finds really cute keepsakes from the show while he’s on tour and buys them for you

Takes a picture of them and send them to you with the caption, ‘Look what I got~’

You literally squeal and call him immediately

A proud smile on his face when he hears your voice

You’re rambling thank yous in every language you know and Wooyoung’s there on the other line giggling

Yeah, you’re being spoiled with merch from now on.

Precious baby :(

종호 (Jongho)

Probably has the most neutral response out of all the boys

Kinda just goes, “Oh, that’s cool, fantasy’s really interesting.”

Low-key sounds uninterested, but trust me, he is. Even if it’s just a tad.

Jongho strikes me as the type to not tell you that he’s learning about your favourite show.

You’ll be watching an episode and he walks in, “Oh, [character]’s pairing with [character] is really neat. They wrote them really well.”

“Huh..? How do you know..?”

You thought he wasn’t interested in the show and he giggles at your confusion.

Granted, he isn’t into the idea of fantasy as the others are, but if it’s what makes you happy, it wouldn’t hurt to learn a little about it.

Let’s you take him to conventions and helps you hold the bigger items you struggle with so you don’t drop everything.

Thinks you look amazing in full cosplay.

Lets you experiment on him from time to time.

You get him in some makeup, contacts and give him a prosthetic piece to put over his head.

He thinks he looks pretty good. Might consider trying it again sometime.

He’ll be shopping online and see something.

“Isn’t that from y/n’s favourite..?”

Buys it and surprises you the next time you have a date together.

“Oh? When did you get this? I love it”

“Ah, you know~ I was browsing and it reminded me of you.”

Ends up seeing you take it everywhere

Smiles to himself each time and refuses to tell you why.

Out of all the merch you own, you take the one he bought you with you everywhere

He’s touched.

Doesn’t always pay 100% attention when you’re watching tv together, but enough that he’s aware of the plot line, but not the finer details.

You may not have convinced him to be a fan, but you have turned your boyfriend into a casual watcher.

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datleggy · 3 years

Text

Post-demise At Hand

TW: mentions of past OD, past drug use, off screen death of character (Alex), grief, anger, misunderstandings

TK isn’t sure how to react to the news, if he’s being completely honest with himself.

He learns about the death of his ex through a post on Instagram via an old mutual friend of theirs that he hasn’t been in contact with since even before he packed up his life and moved to Texas. It’s hashtagged: #RIP #gonetoosoon and TK almost laughs out loud like some kind of maniac, because is that all Alex's life amounted to in the end?

Two half-assed hashtags and a badly edited picture of Alex smirking at the person who took the stupid photograph in the first place. TK remembers that day; Alex had finally passed his drivers test and gotten his license. He remembers telling Alex to smile, remembers his ex boyfriend turning to him, rolling his eyes, saying something like “Why did I bother with this again? We live in New York.” except TK can’t remember what he said to Alex to be on the receiving end of that knowing little smirk.

The one he can’t stop staring at now.

“Earth to TK!”

TK almost drops his phone onto the floor, blinking up at the person waving their hand in his face. “Huh?”

Judd gives him a curious look. “Been calling you for like a straight minute, kid, you doin’ alright?”

TK nods. “Yeah, sorry, yeah, I’m good, I was reading an article, I uh, got distracted.” he shakes his head. “What’s up?”

“Your boyfriend’s downstairs lookin’ for you--” Judd tries not so subtly to peek at whatever it is that’s got TK so enraptured and catches a glimpse of a familiar face, one that gives him pause.

He frowns. “TK, what the hell? Stalking your ex, seriously?” he blurts the accusation outloud without thinking, which is of course the very moment Carlos and Paul come gallivanting up the stairs, their laughter at something one of them said dying out abruptly.

Paul’s eyes dart between the two men and he clears his throat awkwardly before motioning for Judd to skedaddle with him. Judd, who couldn’t take a hint if it hit him on the side of the head like a tire iron, simply folds his arms across his chest expectantly. “Well? Your fella’s right over there, so what’re you doing all up in your ex boyfriends business?”

Paul sighs. Jesus. “Judd. Maybe we should give them some privacy?” Carlos is scarily silent next to him and Paul just knows shit’s about to hit the fan, and he’d rather be far far away when it does happen.

Carlos swallows hard, wipes his hands against his uniform pants, and says, “It’s fine. I’ll um, I’ll see you at home.” before turning around and going back the way he came.

“Man.” Paul stares at TK, who hasn’t uttered a single word as of yet. “You’re not gonna go follow after him?”

Judd scoffs. “And do what? Tell him it’s not what it looks like?”

TK blinks rapidly a few times, as if coming out of a daze. “I--” His eyes go wide when he realizes what’s happened. “Shit.” he runs over to the edge of the railing to call for Carlos, but his boyfriend apparently bolted, because he’s nowhere to be seen.

Judd whistles loudly behind him, arms still crossed disapprovingly. “Carlos is a good catch, TK, shouldn’t be messin’ around with him if you’re not--”

TK whirls around to face him, the look on his face mutinous. “I wasn’t stalking my ex on Instagram Judd! Get your head outta your ass and outta my business!”

Judd takes a step forward and Paul can see where this is headed; he immediately gets in between the two men, arms raised. “Hey! Enough! You two need to relax.”

Judd huffs. “I’m not the one tryna step out on my--”

“Alex is dead.” Saying it outloud is surreal.

Alex is dead.

What the fuck.

Paul and Judd both give pause.

“What?”

TK sighs, aggravated, and shows them the post he’d been caught looking at earlier.

“TK...” Paul gulps. “I’m sorry man.”

TK nods but doesn’t utter a word.

Judd cringes. “Crap, I--” He wants to smack his head against the palm of his hand as hard as he can. “I’m such a heel, Jesus TK, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed--I’m so sorry.”

TK leans his back against the railing and this time it’s his turn to cross his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well...tell that to Carlos.”

“TK I’ll call him right now and tell him I misunderstood, I swear--”

TK interrupts him again with a shake of his head. “No, no, it’s better if I just explain it myself.” he looks up at Judd through long lashes and manages a half hearted grin. “I guess I should be happy you respect my boyfriend enough to snitch on my ass?”

Judd knows TK’s throwing him a bone, but still, he doesn’t feel he can take it. “I do,” he admits. “But that don’t mean I should’ve went ahead and assumed the worst. You deserve better than that and for that I’m especially sorry.” The whole thing with his own father in law stepping out on his Grace’s mother is still messing around with his head, but that was no excuse to think the worst of TK, of all people.

But TK tells him not to sweat it, he’ll call Carlos and tell him everything, no big, really. And then he asks the two men not to mention anything about any of this to the Captain or to any of the rest of the team, if it can be helped.

Paul frowns. “TK, it’s not good to try and go through these types of things alone, you know.”

TK shakes his head. “I’m not trying to, really. I just,” he shrugs, looking a little like a lost lamb. “I don’t really know how I feel about it yet? So I’d rather not deal with everybody’s sympathies right now, if that’s ok.”

**********************

He calls Carlos but gets sent straight to voicemail every single time and when that doesn’t work he texts him that whatever he thought was going on, there was nothing to worry about, that he would explain if Carlos would just pick up his damn phone.

Work gets progressively busier after that and TK barely has time to catch his breath, much less to try and get into contact with his boyfriend, and so it’s not until the very end of his shift, hours later, that he’s able to rush home--that is, he thinks sullenly, if Carlos hasn’t changed all the locks on him.

TK shakes his head; Carlos wouldn’t do that. He’s probably stewing though, and that thought doesn’t make TK feel any better as he steps past the threshold and inside. He’s had such a long and tiring day he hasn’t even had time to properly process what’s happened to Alex.

Carlos has cooked dinner, if the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen is any indication. He’s at the table eating alone with the TV on in the other room for background noise, and he doesn’t even look up to greet TK, only motions towards the stovetop vaguely. “Help yourself.” he mutters.

TK ignores the food and takes a seat right across from Carlos, leans over the table with a grimace. “Babe, I swear to you it’s not like that. Judd misunderstood what happened--”

Carlos sets his fork down with a clatter that startles TK into jumping slightly. “Look, I get it, moving in is a huge commitment, it’s scary, I know, but I didn’t think you would--”

“Please,” TK stops him. “Please let me just explain, please.” he hastily takes his phone out of his back pocket and opens the app. He can hear Carlos sigh above him but it doesn’t deter TK from finding the post and holding it up to his face. “This is what Judd saw me looking at.”

Carlos reluctantly lays eyes on the photo, his irritation and hurt only peeking when he sees that it’s a photo of TK’s almost fiance. That is, of course, until he reads the caption, notices the hashtags below, and suddenly it all makes sense. He doesn’t know quite what to say, except: “Oh.”

TK nods. “Caught me by surprise. I um, I haven’t heard from him since, well, you know. So I didn’t really know how to react when I found out and then Judd came up behind me and I mean, you know the rest of the story…”

“Oh.” Carlos says again, because he’s still trying to process the news.

“Yeah.” TK shrinks back in his chair and the wounded look of him finally snaps Carlos out of it.

“Crap,” Carlos groans. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He gets up and rounds the table, kneeling down in front of TK. “I was hurt and I ran off without letting you even get a word in, that was messed up and I’m sorry. Are you ok?” He makes a face at his own question, because of course TK isn’t ok. The man he’d proposed marriage to a little over a year ago now has passed, after all.

There’s no way he’s ‘ok’.

“I uh, I don’t know.” TK admits quietly.

Carlos puts a hand on his knee and squeezes gently. “It’s ok to be sad, Ty.”

TK shakes his head. “It’s--I’m not. I’m not sad. I think? I mean...it’s not like we were on friendly terms, you know? I’m more surprised I guess, than anything else. He was still so young.”

Carlos nods solemnly. “How did it happen, do you know?”

TK clears his throat and scratches at the back of his head. “The obituary I found online said it was some kind of car accident near PA. I didn’t really find out any more details than that, though. The funeral was earlier this afternoon.”

Carlos blinks. “Oh. None of your friends from New York said anything? Before today?” The fact that TK had to find out through Instagram is probably half the reason his boyfriend is finding it so hard to react properly to the tragic news.

“I didn’t really bother to keep in contact with a lot of our friends when I left, to be honest. And plus, they were all Alexs’ friends before becoming mine. So he kinda had the right to keep them after the divorce...in a manner of speaking.” TK runs a hand through the greasy locks of his hair and grimaces. “Anyway, I should probably go shower, it’s been a long day and I’m kinda gross.”

Carlos nods, letting TK worm his way out of the conversation without too much fuss.

**********************

In the shower TK stands under the spray of hot water and stares blankly at the tiled wall in front of him, irritated by the jumbled thoughts plaguing him. God, he thinks, I could really use a drink right about now.

What exactly is he supposed to be feeling right now?

Grief?

Anger?

Or perhaps regret.

It’s not as though TK ever got any real closure with Alex and now he never would. After being rejected by the man and worse yet, told he’d been replaced, TK hadn’t wanted to feel any of that pain and had gone to great and dangerous lengths to make sure he was good and numb that night.

He hadn’t meant to overdose. But he’d popped a couple of pills initially, so sure that he could control himself this time, that this time it would be different. But twenty minutes later when the two little white pills had done nothing to soothe his aching heart TK thought, what’s two more? And then two more after that, and then maybe two more, and then he’d lost count, but fuck it, if he hadn’t felt better in the moment.

The pills had worked! He couldn’t feel a thing, his head was blessedly empty and suddenly this giant weight had been lifted from his chest and he could breathe again. Until he couldn’t.

The water is cold by the time TK steps out of the tub. He dries himself off and slips on a pair of boxer shorts and an old gray t-shirt.

Carlos is waiting for him in the kitchen with a full plate, reheated, and normally the smell would be appetizing, but tonight it makes TK a little sick. “You alright? You were in there a while.”

TK nods. “M’good.”

“Here, sit, you should eat something before going to bed.” he sets the plate down in front of him and TK just stares at it like it’s the first time he’s seen food in a while and he’s not quite sure what to do with it.

“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry. I think I’m just gonna go to sleep. I’m tired.”

Carlos nods, his lips pursed like he wants to say something more, but instead all he says is, “Ok.”

******************

It’s nearly three in the morning when TK wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. He’s not sure how he does it, but he manages not to wake Carlos up as he sneaks out of their bed.

A few minutes later he’s outside in his sweatpants and a hoodie, mindlessly jogging along his usual route. It’s not drugs or alcohol, but running does help. He runs and runs and runs until it hurts and even then, he keeps on running. It’s not until the cramping in his stomach is too much to bare that he finally stops and lets his body rest on a park bench.

And it’s then that he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and realizes he’s got three missed calls. “Shit.” he picks up immediately, holding the phone up to his ear with a shaky hand. “Hey.”

“Where are you? TK, it’s almost five in the morning. What’s going on?” Carlos sounds frenzied on the other end of the line and TK can’t say he blames him.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, I went out on a run and I lost track of time. I’m headed home now, sorry. Go back to bed.”

“I can come pick you up, where are you?”

TK sighs. “Carlos, seriously, I’m within walking distance, don’t worry, I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes.” he hangs up without letting the other man get another word in, which he knows isn’t right, but can’t really find it in himself to care.

His legs feel like jello when he gets up and the trek back to their place is torturous enough to make TK regret telling Carlos not to bother getting him. By the time he makes it home he’s limping slightly and his stomach is in knots.

The door swings open before TK can even take out his keys, and Carlos is standing there at the entrance looking a mixture of concerned and annoyed.

TK rolls his eyes and ignores the look, pushing his way inside and kicking off his shoes at the door. “What?” he snaps, when Carlos won’t stop staring at him.

Carlos frowns. “Stop that.”

“Stop what? What are you talking about? I went out for a run. You’re acting like I went out to shoot up at a meth lab or something. I was gone for less than two hours!” TK half shouts, his frustration spiking up a notch.

“Stop shutting me out. I know you’re upset about what happened to Alex, but you can’t just-”

“About what happened to Alex?” TK scoffs incredulously. “Nothing happened to Alex, Carlos, he died. That’s not something that happens to someone and then they like, get the fuck over it! He died! He’s dead! Gone! Never gonna see him again, didn’t get to say bye or even fuck you to the guy, he just went ahead and died and that’s that!” TK lets out a choked little laugh that sounds more like a cry than anything and covers his face with both hands, tries his best to get his shit together and under control, but it’s no use.

It’s quiet for a long time and then TK speaks again and it's soft and agonized, “I loved him.”

And Carlos nods, takes him by the shoulders and leads him to the stairs, where they both sit down and TK buries himself into Carlos, into his safe haven, and his breath hitches loudly and Carlos says, “I know.” and TK lets out a big broken sob.

“I’m here.” Carlos assures him gently, “I’m here. It’s gonna be ok.”

#tw death #tw past drug use #911 lone star #fic #i wrote a thing and yes its 100% me projecting my own shit onto poor tk #this is the closest my none insured ass gets to therapy huh #tk #carlos #judd #paul #tarlos #long post is long #fanfiction #writing #grief

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