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nymphomatique · 2 years ago

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wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

#the ask had me sweatin #u guys need to start writing instead of me 😭#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3

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anothermaletfwriter · 4 months ago

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Dark Macademia Masculinity

(First story yay, I'll post a companion story to this soon)

Jonathan and Jeremy were your typical gay couple. Jeremy worked as a hairdresser in the local mall and Jonathan was a flight attendant. When the both of them were home, which was rare due to Jonathan’s job, they would usually play a cozy soft fantasy-themed farm dating simulator on their bright pink Switch, or crochet colorful plushies of bees. Jeremy was the bookish nerd of the two. Obsessed with tropes and romances, he would info dump about his favorite graphic novels and fanfiction to Jonathan. While Jonathan loved Jeremy for his softness and approachability, he sometimes wished he himself was a bit more masculine. Less flamboyant looking. No matter how hard he worked out or how many protein powders he bought, he could never see any progress at the gym. But Jeremy loved him for the soft twink he was, so he typically kept those thoughts to himself.

Today was an exciting day for Jeremy. There was a promotional event in the local bookstore. Jonathan reluctantly went with him, only there to support his ever loving boyfriend.

In the brightly lit modern store, a large bright pink banner with black bold lettering above said “Try An Extrasensory Novel today.”

“Babe, I’ll be at the Graphic Novels section. They have the newest book of the CardiacPauser series,” Jeremy wrapped his arms around Jonathan, his white hoodie drapping over his.

“I’ll stay. Something tells me I’ll find a book I like here.”

Jeremy kissed him on the cheek, before traversing to his section. “Okay babe.”

Truthfully, Jonathan wanted to be left alone, knowing that if he had gone with his boyfriend, he would just be standing there as he read the graphic novels. He peeked at some of the bold and brash covers of the books but none stood out to him. Some boring modern day issues and thrillers. None of that was interesting.

A strong nutty scent of macadamia nuts interrupted his picky process. It was delicious. He was enamored by it since it was his favorite syrup in his boba order. But where was it coming from? There were no bubble tea places or even a coffee shop nearby. Hopefully no one had spilled anything, it would be a hot mess to clean. All the residue would attract ants and no one wants that, especially at a book store.

The scent grew stronger as he knelt down on the floor but there were no stains or spills on the dark green carpet. Not even a droplet of liquid. His nose led him to a specific book. The cover was a simplistic black text in front of a gray to white gradient background. An amateur with a dream and MS paint must have made it. It read: “Absolute Maximum: Understanding Yourself”. The blurb revealed it was a self-help men’s book. MAXIMIZE YOUR GAINS. MAXIMIZE YOUR ALPHA. MAXIMIZE YOUR MASCULINITY. Finally, a book that appealed to him. While he read the acknowledgments to alpha males and the pinnacles of masculinity, an aggressive warmth developed in his chest but he wasn’t sweating. The book was smaller and lighter in his now larger hands.

Chapter 1: ASSERTING YOURSELF. The simple prose asserted him to realize his true self. He was a man’s man, not a flamboyant twink. He felt the glow in his body starting to spread. Jonathan failed to notice his limbs stretching and growing to fit his muscular frame. His baggy clothes were tiny on his taller frame. While he remembered being at eye level with the middle shelf, he towered over it in the present.

He speedread the first and last paragraphs of the rest of the chapters, after all everything in between was filler. His once faint abs exploded into rock, hard canyons on his stomach. Adonis belt defined enough to go skiing on them. The flat soft joke of a chest ballooned into firm pecs. He owed it from his strict dieting routine and gym sessions with the bros. But what about Jeremy? Wait who was that? His memories of his boyfriend shifted into memories at extensive frat parties and going home with hot chicks afterwards.

The rest of the pages flew by from his intense skimping. His twig arm exploded with bulging biceps and triceps. He rolled up his small hoodie and flexed the peaks of mountains that were on his arms. He felt a glowing pleasure as testosterone fueled throughout his body. He thirsted for a protein shake. His face hardened into a mature shape, his hands gliding across a chiseled jawline. His traps and shoulders spiked up, bulging out of the jacket close to bursting out. The more words he read, the more of his memories transmuted. All the times he cuddled with Jeremy with hot cocoa under a pink blanket were replaced by his new memories of flattering women in his own apartment with a bookshelf of books he curated solely from their color schemes. He hardly read anything in them besides the blurb on the cover and the first chapter. He wasn’t a fuckboy, per se. He had a more academic approach, aiming to get into women’s pants through the seductive language of surface-level literature discussion.

Jonathan Johnny exhaled a deep breath as his tight top, which constricted his chiseled pecs, turned into a loose black shirt underneath a dark beige open jacket. He outgrew his sweatpants into a dark pair of jeans, which he tightened using a studded black belt. He felt god-like but his heart started to race. A quiet part internally knew this wasn’t him— but it was. This was the real him. None of this should be surprising.

Thoughts of his boyfriend, Jeremy, dissipated into the air. He didn’t have a boyfriend. He wasn’t into men. He was Johnny, the straightest man ever known. He had been straight his whole life, recalling his first time with a hot book nerd girl in the unisex bathroom of a bookstore back in his small town. In his time as a flight attendant, he often slept with the foreign women around the airport, sneaking into his overseas hotel rooms.

The book was unnecessary, so he returned it. It no longer smelled of macadamia nuts. He didn’t need it. He already was the most alpha he had been. His once kind and feminine personality turned into a more manipulative, masculine one. He used the charms of academic aesthetics to sleep with woman, often pretending to know the novels they loved. He surveyed the store for any hotties to bang, as a red head with glasses catching his eye.

Johnny walked up to the girl, feeling like a titan over her, with a book he had picked up that was a modern retelling of Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway. He didn’t really care about the contents of it since it was a lure for the woman he wanted to conquer. He peeked down on her, and felt his underwear being restrictive.

He leaned on the shelf opposite to her, opening his book one-handed while squeezing his chest with the other hand. He glanced at her to elevate his mysterious nature.

“Oh hi,” The red head squeaked, rearranging her glasses. Her fingers that held her fantasy romance novel were shaking.

Turning the book down, he revealed his square jaw, “What are you reading?” He walked closer to the girl, subtly flexing his bicep.

“Nothing. It’s just a romcom. Dark broody male love interest. Strangers to lovers. Heh.”

Johnny kneeled down to her height. He whispered in his deep voice seductively to her ears, extending a hand out, “Hope it has a happy ending.”

The red head took his hand with no hesitation. Her face red from the blushing, dropping the book on the floor. She was utterly lovestruck. While walking out the store, they passed by a gay couple who apologized for bumping into him. No worries, he said. He enjoyed gay men’s existence since they took out potential competition for his women.

On the drive home on his motorcycle, the red head noted that Johnny had fit every criteria of her dream love interest: well traveled, dresses in a dark academia style, tall, muscular and drives a motorcycle.

He fucked her brains out while she felt his defined physique with the crevices between his chest and bulging six pack. Her moans were a common sound in his dimly lit apartment. After he finished his seed in her, the remnants of Jonathan and his homosexuality were shot out as well. He went to his bathroom and snapped a mirror selfie to put on his social media profiles. This was the real Johnny. No more Jonathan. He admired himself of the man he was before returning to round two.

#male tf #male transformation #gay to straight #tf story #muscle tf #reality change #breeder tf #mental change

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cherryite · 3 days ago

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remember my name - 1. the swan and the raven

summary. you're in your senior year at gotham university when a series of murders on campus leads to a reunion between you and your childhood friend, jason. when his older brother asks you to help solve the case, you become entangled with the world jason tried so hard to keep you from. (wc. 3.4k)

content. jason todd x reader, fem!reader, childhood friends to lovers, ballerina!reader, light college au, yearning, slow burn, falling in love, hurt/comfort, angst, vague forced proximity, tension, jason is a literature nerd, jason is a yearner but slightly emotionally constipated

warnings. eventual smut, murder bro, blood/violence, talks of death and dying (duh it's jason lol), tags will be added as story progresses

authors note. OMG its here!! so many people expressed how excited they were for this fic and i'm proud to say it officially starts today!! this is mostly just an introductory chapter but i hope you all enjoy none the less!! fun fact, this fic is named after 'remember my name' by mitski! much love!! (this is also cross posted on my ao3 if you would prefer to read there!!)

(now playing 'what once was' by her's)

series masterlist. ao3.

Gotham has a way of pulling you back in— no matter how far you run, no matter how detached you think you’ve become from its poisonous claws. Your parents worked so hard to get you out of this place, and still, you threw yourself right back into the lion’s den the moment you were admitted to GothamU. And after seeing the news this morning, you really wish you hadn’t come back at all.

Two young women. Both had attended GothamU. Both found dead in the Gotham Opera House.

The headline had sent a chill crawling down your spine when you had seen it, the words glowing on your phone screen beneath the dim lights of your vampire literature lecture. Students around you whispered in hushed tones, like speaking the victims’ names aloud might curse them to the same fate. It feels like eyes are on you, prickling the back of your neck, but when you glance around the crowded lecture hall, no one is looking.

Lauren Fischer had been a junior at the university, a theatre major who had just wrapped up her role as Lady Macbeth in the Opera House's production of Macbeth. You hadn’t known her personally, but according to friends and family she was bright, bubbly, and kind. Her sweet brown eyes, wide smile, and tight coils of auburn hair haunted the corners of your memory now— burned into your brain from the dozens of photos posted online.

But Kara Nakamura… you had known her. Only briefly did you both cross paths. You weren’t friends, necessarily, just acquaintances. She performed in nearly every opera that was staged there, and your ballet company often collaborated on joint performances. She was a senior, getting a bachelors in music and vocal performance. She had a voice so striking and pure it barely seemed human. Like she had been an angel. Her stunning long black hair and a calm but gentle demeanor had stood out to you when you met for the first time.

And now they’re both dead.

Lauren had been missing for two weeks before she was found. Kara had turned up just yesterday. Gotham has never been a safe place— everyone knows that. Murders happen nearly everyday here, even with all the vigilante justice that gets dealt out. But this was different. It had struck a cord in the campus community at GothamU— people are quieter now, walking in pairs, their eyes darting around nervously when it got later in the day. A tension lingers in the air, tight and unrelenting.

You had never wanted to come back to Gotham. But Gotham City Ballet was prestigious, despite the city it called home. People would kill for a place in that company. And when they offered to cover your tuition, you would’ve been a fool to say no. So back you came, in the city that never sleeps, calling you home like a siren luring sailors to their deaths. There was nothing here for you, at least not anymore.

As you cross campus, orange leaves fall from the brittle branches overhead, and looming dark brick buildings tower above. They feel more like a group of mausoleums than places of learning. And you think of him. Jason Todd, your only friend from school, your best friend, your greatest friend. For a few years, he had been everything, a rescue buoy in a city that was constantly trying to drag you under. The adopted son of Bruce Wayne, he was the only one who ever really understood you. Nostalgia digs its poisonously familiar nails into your heart, leaving a pit of loneliness as you think about him.

When your parents finally found jobs outside of Gotham, away from the crime and the darkness, you should have been happy. But the idea of losing Jason made your chest ache. So you made a pact. You and Jason had decided that every week, you would write a letter to each other. A pen pal situation, to keep in touch until you could meet again. You had a whole year of letters—messy handwriting, stories of what you were reading, how life was.

Then one day, they just stopped, there was no goodbye, no warning. Jason had been so bright. He was kind in a way that felt rare in Gotham, fiercely loyal, always making you laugh when you needed it most. You couldn’t imagine him forgetting you so easily.

You hated to admit it, but four years ago, when you came back to Gotham, a small part of you hoped you would run into him again. Hoping to meet him again wasn’t new. You’d been praying for a letter in the mail ever since they had stopped. Whenever you had a recital, or accepted an award for ballet, you would search for him in the crowd. In your return to Gotham, you half hoped to run into Bruce, or run into Jason’s older brother Dick, just to ask what had made Jason go dark all those years ago. It was silly, hoping and wishing like that.

You wonder now if you would even recognize him if you saw him again. You’ve imagined it plenty of times, what he might look like now. Would his dark hair still curl around his ears? Would his eyes still look like oceans filled with turbulent waves?

You sigh, shaking your head. It seems like Jason is always on your mind lately, for absolutely no good reason. Maybe it’s the stress; a new semester, the newest ballet your company is performing, the murders that have been occurring on GothamU’s doorstep.

You shake the mess of thoughts from your head and tug your coat tighter around you as a gust of wind threads through the trees. The leaves crunch beneath your shoes as you round the corner toward the quad—only to find yourself slowing, then stopping altogether. A crowd has gathered and you nervously hitch your ballet bag further up on your shoulder.

There’s a small stage set up outside the administration building, flanked by two Gotham City Police cruisers, lights off but ominous all the same. On the makeshift podium, a detective adjusts the mic. His voice crackles through the speaker like lightning through a stormy sky.

“We want to assure the students of Gotham University that the GCPD is working tirelessly on this investigation,” he says, the words practiced and his tone neutral. “There will be additional patrols assigned to campus, and we encourage all students to travel in pairs, avoid walking alone at night, and report anything suspicious immediately.”

His voice fades under the pounding of your heartbeat. You don’t realize how tightly you’re gripping the strap of your dance bag until your fingers start to ache.

“…we are asking the public to remain calm and vigilant,” the detective continues. “We understand that this situation is frightening, but we are committed to protecting our citizens—especially our students.”

You turn your head, willing yourself to step away from the press conference. Just as you’re contemplating where to grab lunch, your gaze accidently collides with another.

You don’t mean to stare, but something roots your feet in place.

The figure is tall, broad shouldered. Even beneath the dark leather jacket that swallows his upper half, you can tell he’s athletic. His skin is lightly tanned, and from this distance, you can make out the faint scar that cuts across his left cheek. A strong nose, sharp jaw and heavy brows adorn his face, and dark hair curls at the nape of his neck— an abnormal lock in the front is stark white where it rests against his forehead.

You have to really look to catch the color of his eyes, the view slightly obstructed by a pair of glasses that sit perched on the bridge of his nose. But when you do see them, it feels like the world has been turned on its axis. Blue, tinged with swirls of green, very similar to the ocean, very similar to Jason.

You had just been thinking about him again, it’s almost like your thoughts conjured up a replica. Or maybe, it’s brought you the real thing. Real, grown up Jason Todd, right before your very eyes.

Apparently you’ve been staring too long, because the maybe-Jason tears his gaze from yours and starts walking away. Your feet move before you can even tell them to stop, weaving through the dissipating crowd. With racing thoughts and a racing heart, you follow after him, and before you even can stop them, the word tumbles from your throat.

“Jason?”

You can’t think about how embarrassing this will be if it isn't him, or even how embarrassing it will be if it is him, but it’s too late for that now.

The man’s shoulders tense, his back to you as he halts his steps. You stand frozen as well. You half can’t believe you even let your imagination get the best of you; to the point of following some man you’ve just stared down for who knows how long. The wind whistles through the buildings and catches your hair, leaves falling all around you as your pulse pounds in your ears. Your mouth opens to apologize, to admit you must have the wrong person. Then, you hear your name. Your eyes snap upwards, the man turns, and whatever you were going to say dies in your throat.

“What’re you doin’ back here?” His voice is deeper than you remember, but it still sounds like him despite it all. Your jaw flaps awkwardly, struggling to find the words. You’ve imagined this moment plenty of times, rehearsed what you would say. And now that it’s actually happening, your mind is blank. Gathering yourself, you take a few steps nearer.

“School. I go to school here.” The wind whispers through the courtyard again, colder this time. “What are you doing here?”

Jason seems to hesitate just before he answers. He shifts his weight, one hand in his jacket pocket, eyes flicking somewhere past you before landing back on your face.

“School,” he finally says. "Just started this semester,” he pauses, “and I live here. Obviously.”

“Sorry. Silly question,” you say, your voice is hushed, as if convinced that if you speak too loudly, he’ll disappear. You blink at him, still not entirely convinced this is real. Your mind is still catching up, still trying to fit this grown version of Jason over the memory of the boy you once knew—when you realize you’ve been staring.

He shifts again, glancing toward the street like he might bolt. That’s when you finally find your voice amidst your panic, sparked by the thought of him possibly running off.

“I was just about to grab lunch. Uh, you should come with me. Catch up a little.” You tuck your hair behind your ears, suddenly realizing how desperate and pathetic your words come off as, even to your own ears.

Jason’s eyes flick back up to your face, his brows furrowing, like he’s weighing all his options. For a brief second, you wonder if he’ll make an excuse, to get away from you and this situation. You’re half expecting him to dart away, like a rabbit cornered by a fox, fleeing from the jaws of the predator that's got it cornered.

“Lunch sounds good.”

You can barely contain your excitement in the way you perk up. You nod, relief flashing through you like sunlight between passing clouds. For a moment, neither of you moves. There’s a hesitancy, a wordless beat, suspended between your shared past and this strange situation at present. Then Jason shifts his weight, jerking his head toward the sidewalk. You fall into step beside him, your breath misting faintly in the cool Gotham air as you breathe out in relief.

Beside you, Jason keeps his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. He doesn’t walk too close, but he’s just close enough that your shoulders ghost by each other’s as you walk. Close enough that you can hear the soft scuff of his boots on the sidewalk and pick up on the way he glances sideways every now and then. You’ve caught him a few times now, a mix of hesitancy and nervousness swimming in his eyes. It brings you comfort that he’s just as nervous as you feel.

You used to be best friends, and he knew nearly everything about you, but you’re practically strangers now after all the years you’ve spent apart. Part of you wonders if he’s anything like the Jason you once knew. Does he still love reading? Is he still deeply empathetic with an even deeper sense of morality? Is he still the Jason that stood up for you no matter the consequences? Even if he isn’t, you still desperately want to know him again and you find yourself chasing the warmth the possibility provides. Gotham was lonely, and besides some of the fellow dancers at the company, you spent most of your time alone. The thought of having someone, never mind someone who had once understood you like the back of his hand, was undeniably appealing.

Eventually, you end up at a café tucked just off campus, one of those cozy places with scratched wooden tables, mismatched chairs, and the faint smell of cinnamon baked into the very foundation of the place. The bell over the door jingles as you walk in, and Jason ducks slightly inside behind you.

You both order— he gets an americano, you get a chai and a scone— and you settle into a corner booth near the windows. The late afternoon light of late autumn light slants in through the glass, making the dust in the air shimmer. Jason slides into the seat across from you, and shrugs off his jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. You can’t help but notice how much bigger he is than he was at fifteen—shoulders broad with age, arms solid beneath the sleeves of his hoodie. With his coffee between his hands, he hunches forward slightly like he’s bracing for something. Then he leans back slightly in his chair, thumb tracing around the rim of his mug.

“So,” he starts, his voice low and careful, “you still dance?”

Part of you is surprised he spoke up first, considering he looked like a cornered animal earlier. You glance at him, unsure how much detail he wants.

“Yeah,” you say, “Gotham City Ballet. They, uh... they pay for school.”

Jason nods, eyes dropping to look at the swirl of his coffee. “Figured you’d be doin’ something like that. You were always the best at your recitals.”

“I don’t know about the best,” you say, almost sheepishly, “But I’m far better now than I was then.”

“That doesn’t surprise me either,” Jason replies, tapping his fingers against the side of his untouched drink. All you can do is nod, bringing your cup to your lips. The chai is warm, sweet, and comforting—the heat slowly works through the anxious tension sitting heavy in your chest.

“What did you end up majoring in?” You manage to ask, the soothing heat of your drink grounding your nerves.

“English lit,” he says simply.

“I’m English lit too,” you say, unable to hide the smile curling at your lips, “guess all those classics you made me read rubbed off on me.”

That gets a real smile out of him—small and fleeting, you would have missed it if you weren’t observing him so closely. It flits across his face like a shadow crossing your vision, then disappears again just as fast. His smile is still the same. Even in that quick moment you can see flashes of the boy you once knew. But in those flashes, you can see him—fifteen again, sprawled out on your living room floor with a dog eared copy of Wuthering Heights in his hands. Jason lets out an amused huff, finally drinking a bit of his coffee.

“Good to know I had an impact,” he responds.

You huff a soft laugh into your cup, setting it down gently. Outside, the late autumn sun has risen high in the sky. Golden light pours through the windows, framing Jason in soft amber. It almost looks like something out of a memory. There’s a pause between you two now, a silence that stretches between two people still figuring out how to exist around each other again.

You pick at your scone absently, before glancing back up at him.

“So,” you say, “have you ever taken classes with Professor Blake? I’m in his Vampire Literature class, and I’ve never had him before.”

Jason blinks once before his eyes drop down to look at the dark liquid that swirls in his cup. “Yeah. I’m actually takin’ that class this semester.”

Your brows lift. “Wait, really? Were you in the section at 10:45 this morning?”

He nods, “Mhm. Small world.”

You smile, puzzled. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice you.”

He lifts a shoulder, trying to appear casual. “Big lecture hall.” he adds quickly. “Guess I missed you.”

Something in your heart tugs sharply. Thinking back to class, you try to imagine him there, taking notes on Carmilla amidst the buzz of the tension in the hall. Existing in your orbit, like a small planet that hasn’t been charted yet—two celestial bodies spinning in the same sky, unaware of the other.

“I must’ve missed you too,” you say lightly. The words stick to your throat, because you nearly slip up and say I missed you instead. But the inflection of your voice gives you away as Jason’s eyes portray a flicker of softness.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer than he should.

“Yeah,” he says, hushed. The air thickens between you again, like a blanket of nostalgia.

Then, quieter, Jason says, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You look at him, heart stuttering in your chest. The feeling is familiar. It’s the same one that used to rise in you after every unopened letter, every unanswered birthday. You spent so long hoping, but the pessimistic part of you always whispered sickenly that you’d never get closure. It almost feels like you’re caught in a dream, dreading the possibility of waking up.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Me neither.”

Jason looks like he’s about to say something—his lips part and his brows twitch— but his eyes lock onto something over your shoulder. His brows furrowed and his shoulders tense, just slightly. You glance behind you, but all you see is the usual foot traffic of campus, students walking by in groups, heads down against the chill.

“I, uh, I gotta go,” Jason mutters aloofly, already reaching for his jacket, already half out of his seat. You nod quietly, your eyes flit over him as he fishes a pen from his pocket.

“But,” Jason says, scribbling a combination of numbers on a napkin before handing it to you, “here. This is my number. We can catch up again. Maybe talk about class?”

You take the napkin from him, fingers curling around it as if it will crumble into dust if you let go.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll text you,” you say as he finally gets up, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

“Get home safe,” Jason breathes out, his eyes swirling like the sea before a storm, “I— it was— It was great to see you again,” he makes out, his cup gripped in his hand.

“Good to see you too,” you say, your voice soft, masking your disappointment and confusion. Jason finally tears his eyes from yours, making his way to the door. Without thinking, you turn your body, peaking over your shoulder to watch him leave— just as he does the same. Jason blinks as your gazes intertwine, his hand half on the door as he breaks free from the connection and suddenly he’s gone, swallowed by the brisk Gotham air.

Sighing, you slump in your seat a little, the napkin still clutched in your hand— the only proof that Jason Todd was real and not a ghost of the past. You look down and scan the hastily written number, a small J signed underneath. You run your fingers over the fresh indents from the pen, your breath stuttering slightly as you realize what just happened.

Ever since the letters stopped, there had been a Jason sized hole in your life. After all your wishing, all your hoping, you had never thought it could be filled. Now suddenly, he’s found his way into your life again.

Now, your only hope is he won’t disappear again, like an apparition of your memories.

#my writing!!#jason todd #red hood #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #dcu #dc comics #red hood fanfic #fem reader #fanfic

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fandomloreblog · 2 months ago

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🗡️ Vergil Headcanons Post-DMC5 🫐

These headcanons are mainly for my DMC6 fanstory, but yall are more than welcome to claim them for whatever your silly hearts desire (if anyone does fanfics PLEASE TAG ME I am starved for content)!!!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff and giggles here!

Stuck in hell for roughly 3-5 months with Dante, so lots of impromptu bro bonding and family therapy. Hears about what The Order did and what happened with Nero and develops Overprotective Dad Syndrome™️ once he returns (Nero doesn’t know how to feel about it).

Ends up growing stubble and keeps it. Originally because he didn’t exactly have a decent razor (The Yamato can only do so much) but eventually grew used to it. His actual hair he keeps a bit longer, but tidy still and almost always naturally pushed back. Usually it’s only down once he wakes up or is too tired to fix it.

Actually uses the Yamato to cut a lot of stuff (hair, fabric, non-messy food, etc), his main issue is Dante using it. Nero grabbed it once to test the durability of a new Devil Bringer, and when Vergil attempted to get it back, Nero made a “Or what? You’re gonna take my other arm?” Joke that had him somewhat frozen for a solid 5 minutes.

V’s tattoo’s also ended up resurfacing, which he kept as a sort of “memento” of them. They glow when he’s annoyed or enraged, or just close to entering his Devil Trigger (think of djheretostay’s Demon Hunter Outfit Mod for Vergil in terms of look!)

Tries dressing somewhat more “humanly” and not “I am a demon in disguise wearing a hell boar skin coat and dragon scale armor”. Again, Demon Hunter fit is his go-to, along with still somewhat formal outfits, but still human-made and relevant to the fashion era. (He is somewhat embarrassed by his DMC3 fit looking back on it).

Starts cooking for the entire DMC after he returned. He discovered Dante’s poor eating habits when stuck in Hell and basically had to force-feed him scavenged food he whipped up to make sure he stayed healthy and didn’t starve. When they did get back, he took it upon himself to make sure Dante, Nero, and anyone else who was there get some damn veggies into their system. It’s basically his love language.

He made a whole vegan/veggie pizza once, and Dante didn’t notice the difference. Nero had to jump between the two when Dante found out, and now Vergil is required to notify what’s in whatever he cooks.

Ends up becoming cooking partners with Kyrie somehow? Kyrie wants to get into Vergil (technically her father-in-law)’s good graces, while Vergil wants to figure out something healthy that Nero and Dante will eat.

Speaking of cooking, Vergil actually has a wide knowledge on hell-based cooking and gardening. Due to his decades of experience living there (both as Nelo Angelo and Vergil), he actually knows more about Hell’s fauna and flora than Earth’s. As a result, he’s basically the go-to knowledge guy when it comes to dealing with anything that is more complex than “charging in and slashing up the demons”.

Ends up having a somewhat secret garden somewhere in his apartment where he grows the few fruits and veggies from hell that everyone likes. It’s sort of an open secret, but they don’t pressure him over it just in case he stops or gets embarrassed about it.

GOD this man becomes such a book nerd. Not even just for poetry, in general. While poetry is his favorite, he is curious about other books/genres, so he has a whole collection (again) at his apartment. Nico gave him a demon-based smut book to see what he’d do/react to it, but then he didn’t do anything? And no no one has the balls to question if he actually read the damn thing or hasn’t yet.

Speaking of The Apartment™️- it’s a small condo in a somewhat decent spot in Red Grave City. he actually owned it waaaay before DMC5. He got using some “totally legit funds” during his wanderings as a place to store info/supplies in his search for power. Basically he owns it outright and doesn’t have to worry about taxes, and it’s better to not ask questions.

Doesn’t really have much in terms of furniture. He has a bed, a dresser/closet, a bookshelf, the hell garden, and a few boxes, and that’s basically it. Very minimalist, but only because he doesn’t really exactly know what he likes in terms of decor (yet). Take him into an IKEA, and he’ll be sat in front of 4 near-identical lamps for 2 hours wondering what he likes best.

Still struggling with actually verbalizing that he cares. Very much an “actions speak louder than words” person, so he’s constantly doing small things/actions (like cooking) to show that. He’s trying hard to be a better person, and just hopes that everyone see’s it.

They do, Nero’s just too prideful to admit it, and Vergil takes everything Dante says with a grain of salt.

VERY SAPPY!!! He’s down bad missing (insert y’all’s Lady-In-Red name)/Addie. Has one ring she gave him because he expressed a modicum of interest in it, and that’s his most cherished possession. NEVER takes it off.

Dante tried grabbing it once, and Vergil actually hissed at him out of pure defensiveness.

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chrisbesitos · 8 months ago

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀what are you gonna be for halloween?. 𔘓

꩜ warnings: none.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀📓 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

"What are you gonna be for Halloween?" Matt asks, opening the fridge and looking for an energetic can. A joint unlit dangling between his lips, you're sitting on the balcony, holding in your hands a bowl with fresh strawberries.

"You'll know soon." You say, holding a strawberry between your fingers, biting it then. Your lips are already red by the color of the fruit, Matt smiles admiring your pretty plump lips. He rolls his eyes at your stubbornness by not wanting to tell your Halloween costume, even though he already told you what he's gonna be.

"Please, bunny. Tell me what you're gonna be." He begs, putting himself between your legs, you embrace his waist with them. You bite another strawberry, staring at Matt eyes, you already told him your costume, but he's too dumb to realize.

"No, Matt." You chuckle with your cheeks full of red fruit, Matt rests his forehead on your chest, huffing annoyed. You grab his cheeks, lift his head, making him look at you. You hold the joint on his lips, pressing your lips together then, Matt smiles against your sweet lips. "You have to be patient."

"You're really gonna make me wait until the party?" He asks and you shake your shoulders, agreeing with a head movement.

Later in the night, Matt's sitting on the couch of his living room with his frat bros, waiting for you to come. The house is already full of people in their costumes, some bunnies, angels and devils, but Matt's only thinking about what you're gonna be, because he knows you'll not be some playboy bunny or a sexy angel.

You open the front door holding a basket in your other hand, full of fake strawberries and flowers. You walk in looking for Matt with your eyes, you find him on the couch and wave with a smile on your red — now by the red lipstick — lips. Matt couldn't see your costume, because of the amount of people, but he can see you have a hat in your head. He lifts, leaving his friends behind and walking towards you.

"How did you find me without your glasses?" Matt teases, once he's in front of you. He looks at your costume, you're wearing a white corset with a pink shirt, striped socks white and green, you're holding a basket and a tricot pink hat in your head, full of little strawberries and a big bow. He turns his head to the right, trying to understand who you are. "Strawberry Shortcake?"

"Yes, duh?" You say, turning around to show your costume to Matt. He smiles, admiring each corner of you. Your costume is as cute as you, Matt loves it. "You're Batman!"

"Yeah, did you like it? Not matching with Strawberry Shortcake, but whatever."

"We're not matching, Matt." You giggle, holding your basket with your hands. Matt grabs your waist, pulling you through the crowd to be on the couch with his friends. You're not a big fan of parties, but you're there for Matt.

꩜ chérie's notes: dealer!matt and nerd!reader for halloween <3 hope my matt girlies like it.

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2 @zayluvss @sturnsmia @sofieeeeex @ifwdominicfike @planettori @jetaimevous @leclecwifey16 @mattswifeyx @joclyn240 @voqueflms @pepsicola-pussy @sturnobsessedwh0re @chrissturnioloswifeee @sturniolossss @imonlyhereformattfluff @sturniolosluttt

masterlist. | taglist.

#chrisbesitos 𝜗ৎ #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #꒰ nerd.ᐟreader ꒱#꒰ dealer.ᐟmatt ꒱#matt x reader #matt sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x you #matt x y/n

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breathinlove · 1 year ago

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airport crush ellie williams drabble

read this

cw: none?? js cuteness and v poor writting.

u are both coming back for school after spring break? she had missed her friends and dad. for u, u js wanted to take ur summer clothes to uni.

this cute girl stares at u in line for the boarding... are u actually gonna be sitting in the same plane as her? she might faint!!! mmm she's staring and u can feel her green eyes burning the back of your neck so u turn around and she TRIES to be subtle and look somewhere else. u fucking grin, she's lowkey scared of u... u are sooo pretty!!! someone help her!!!

u are both getting on the plane and she doesn't know if she wants u to sit next her or if that's the last thing she wants... but naturally, since u are soooo lucky u got sat in the front line next to an arrogant lil man and his teenage son. how lovely!!! ellie on the other hand, got sat next to A MOTHER W A BABY??? god it was boutta be a flight.

when u looked around, she looked at u as if ud known each other for ages and mouthed "save me" so u mouthed "save me" god u hadn't even said hi to each other, she was embarrassed but... u went along w it so.

u were thinking, and sure the mother was comfortable back there but u remembered when ur aunt had ur cousin she asked to sit at the front lines. when ellie saw u getting up her eyes shined, like actually, she looked like an anime character right there. u fought ur awkwardness and started talking to the mother sat next to ellie.

"excuse me, would u wanna sit in first line? there's much more space for u and ur baby's stuff. u'd probably be way more comfortable." oh, u were such a sweetheart, ellie is inlove w u already.

the lady actually took the offer. she thanked u and gave u a lil shoulder caress. u both exchanged seats and well everyone's happy i guess!

not everyone, ellie's scared.

she's sat next to this sweet caring selfless girl, who happens to be soooo sooo soooooo pretty. she's terrified and she thinks she might be feeling more than js butterflies in her stomach.

"hi..." she mutters. "saved us both right there."

"sure did." u smiled, putting ur seat belt on, she forgot those... she started putting it on immediately. u chuckled and told her ur name.

"that's pretty, i'm williams, i mean, i'm ellie williams. mmm erm, just ellie." she, is, adorable.

"that's real long and pretty." she dropped her head in embarrassment. "where are u going, ellie?"

she coughed and started talking about going back to college and u kinda yelled "same!", bro why was this convo the most embarrassing ever?(,#&@&@ turns outtttttt u went to the same college!!! wowza...

"no way." she deadpaned.

"yes way, ellie..." u giggled and so did she.

u 2 talked ab ur majors and shit, nothing crazy but ellie was js so cutesy likeeee omg she's so awkward she's kind of a nerd :((( she tried acting cool tho but u were js so pretty and nice she got shy.

she couldn't believe u actually fell asleep while u 2 watched the exact same movie on ur tiny screens... 30m in. she had js met u and she got the honor of seeing u peacefully sleeping. u were outrageously embarrassed when u woke up at the end of the flight tho.

ellie asked for ur number before u even left the plane, thinking you'd would say goodbye then. but... u still had to go all the way out of the airport and grab a taxi. it was awkwardly silent, saying bye and walking side by side for like 6 minutes before she got closer and said "i guess not goodbye." what kind of sentence is that???

u talked ab music and u found out ellie played guitar, u were so happy ab it?? she didn't get why but she felt cool and mentioned she had her own songs and u beggedddddd to listen to them. bro she js thought u were so attractive SOMEONE SHOOT HERRRRR RN. u thought the exact same... like... u play guitar AND write ur own songs??

talked and talked until u both found a taxi, because when she found one, she decided to leave it for u but u wanted her to have it, so u both idiots let someone else have it and waited till 2 taxis were available??^÷×&*!*@

after getting home u waited for a text from her, dying to hear from her. you got it!!!

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #lover girl!ellie #ellie imagine #ellie x masc reader

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theguarddogofallyourfeverdreams · 5 months ago

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puppy princess | tadashi x reader fic

"... and in a while i came and got your plates and you guys went on the rest of your date i scrubbed cheese and wished i was somebody else..."

a story told in pieces: part 1 | hamada bros' interlude | part 2 | part 3 | your POV #: 2 idiots mutual pining, fluff, misunderstanding, tadashi is here and in full nerd geek dork goofiness (loser simp tadashi), genderneutral (i try) omni perspective, no beta we die like tadashi uhhh yeah we just die; all in some 2k words (TW/ high word count for people whose attention span is fried from tiktok)

(•---•) tadashi hamada wouldn't say he was a casanova or anything of that sort. of course, he was well-respected on campus and the object of many's affection-- and one might argue thus he has the right to assert himself as such, but such an argument would be incorrect. you see, he lacked an important part: the confidence to go after what he wants.

off campus, he takes on the responsibility of helping aunt cass run the lucky cat cafe along with hiro. in his almost-decade long tenure at the cafe he had come across and interacted with many an interesting and enigmatic figure, but none of them were as peculiar, curious, and eye-catching as you.

you became a regular of the cafe some years back, and naturally because of his feelings, he remembered your order around your first few revisits— a matcha latte with sweet foam, light sugar and extra matcha. he would never admit it— not to aunt cass and hiro, and certainly not to you (you cant ogle customers!)— that he was indeed staring at you every time you came in and that the register was, in his experience and opinion, the best angle to admire your beauty: the way the sun shed light on your face on sunny days, rose dusting your cheeks and your eyelashes charmingly framing your gleaming eyes, the way you looked out the window on cloudy and rainy days, as if longing for something and deep in thought— it was much too excessive and overstimulating, and thus words alone would simply do an injustice to you in describing the beauty of it all.

there were too many an instance where his eyes would linger on you for a moment too long while he was making drinks or drying dishes. many of these instances, either aunt cass had to gently wake tadashi up from his daydreaming, or he would be interrupted by hiro yelling at him for overspilling the milk into the drink shaker. he's contemplated approaching you for anything other than delivering your order to your table, but even the thought of just approaching you made his heart race and a knot form in his throat.

thus, he's never spoken much to you beyond basic formalities that a cafe employee is expected to show to their customers; but a part of him, poorly restrained and hidden, desperately yearned to approach you—say something, anything, to get to know you.

today, just like always, the jingle of the bells by the door announced your arrival. however, what was different was that you brought someone along with you. this instantly rubbed tadashi a certain way he didn't like— he felt a certain way that he couldn't identify nor label. he didn't mean it in the creepy way, but in the many days he's ogled and observed you he's very rarely seen you bring anyone with you to the cafe, if ever. the two of you took a seat at a table near the window of the cafe by the door.

today, just like always, he has to "woman up!" and muster up his courage to approach your table. "hello! will it be the usual for today?" he addresses you first, slightly stumbling in his words.

however, today, he also has to collect himself in front of you and stop his feelings for you from showing on his face. "that's okay tadashi. actually today we were thinking of getting the couple set!" you replied after flipping through the menu and landing on the item you mentioned. it's a set of heart-shaped souffle pancakes topped with cheese foam, powdered sugar and fruits that come with cups of latte, matcha or coffee.

his heart dropped at the order. honestly, he didn't even know that was an item on the menu until you guys flipped to the page. you sure said that with a gleeful inflection... he sure wishes he was the one sharing it with you right now. he was lucky enough to know your name— and only your name for sure, everything else was pure observation and speculation— only because without customers' names, the cafe would lose track of customers' orders otherwise. he mentally kicks himself for his romantic cowardice.

regardless, he swallows the small knot in his throat and forces a smile, scribbling down the order on his notepad. "so that's a couple set for the both of you... will that be matcha or coffee for the drinks?"

"one matcha, one coffee please."

"will that be all for today?"

"that will be all, thank you so much tadashi." you replied sweetly, smiling at him.

your small smile alone is too much for him. not to mention your delightful and sweet voice, your mannerisms, the way you—tadashi moves quickly towards the counter of the cafe, then disappearing behind cat-print curtains that secluded the kitchen from general view and the rest of the cafe.

(•---•)

as the cafe wasn't very busy at this time of the day, tadashi returned to your table with your orders faster than expected.

donning a beige and brown-accented apron with paw prints, a notepad and pen stuffed in one of the pockets of the apron, tadashi was...sightly, to say the least—he somehow made working at a cafe look endearing. his cheeks were slightly pink, his smooth and soft skin dusted with powdered sugar, his dark, straight brows slightly furrowed as he balances the plates carrying your orders in his hands before politely setting it down on the table. let's just say the souffle pancakes weren't the only snacks available this afternoon.

"...the matcha, and the coffee." he noted briefly before setting each iced latte down. "please let me know if you guys need anything. please enjoy." tadashi says shyly with a slight smile before quickly returning to the main counter of the cafe and disappearing. you smile, thanking him.

as tadashi stocked cutlery, containers and drinkware, he couldn't help but overhear the fun you were having with the person you brought today. after all, it was quite slow for the cafe right now, and the only few people here were you, your companion, him, and aunt cass who was in the back.

"and so then..." you trailed off with your companion, chatting, giggling and gossiping over various things. you two exchanged sips of each others' drinks. you even slapped them on their arm in a fit of laughter. you sure seemed to be having fun with them. tadashi made sure to turn his back towards the both of you as the two of you talked about, well, whatever the fuck you two were talking about, because that wasn't important to him. what was important was that you became someone else's before he ever got to court you—actually no, he had all this time up until now to court you, but he never because of his cowardice and lack of experience.

and so he beats himself up again. he couldn't afford to show you...whatever it was that he was feeling, and he reprimanded himself for it. how could he feel...whatever this was... over you? you were never his in the first place—he simply got too attached to one specific regular. and he scolded himself again. (maybe don't get attached and ogle customers. this is so bad. what was i thinking? why did i even do that in the first place? how did i even think it was okay? but they're just so pretty—oh jeez, it's actually over. i have to get over it. it's better to get over this than accidentally do something and make them hate me. or maybe i could just—)

"hey tadashi, could we get the check please?" you stood up from the table, your voice, music to his ears, breaking his train of thought. apparently he'd been lost in thought for longer than since the two of you had long finished your pancakes and drinks.

"o-oh yeah! sure! actually i'll help you over here." tadashi looks up, stumbling over his own words and slightly embarrassed that you had to catch him while he was thinking those things of you. he swears inside and hopes he didn't make any weird faces while he was thinking about you.

at the register, he taps on a screen a few times and helps you with the transaction, handing you your receipt. he shudders a bit as his hand slightly grazed yours as he handed the piece of paper to you.

but he couldn't keep it up any longer. he's held his composure for what felt like an eternity and more, and it was slowly slipping away and leaking. desperation, curiosity and need-to-know clawed at his throat and a question fell out of his previously tightly pursed lips. "a... friend..of yours?" he hesitated.

"yeah. they mean a lot to me, so i thought i'd show them one of my favorite places in the city." you explained, slightly taken aback at tadashi taking an interest in you and your companion since the two of you never went further than the 'please's and the 'thank you's, the typical polite formalities between a cafe employee and a customer.

like one of those insane slice-of-life anime scenes, he has to maintain his composure while he screeched internally. (oh my god that person means a lot to them they said it themself just now it's actually over for me i have no chance i'm cooked—)

"huh," his brows slightly knit together, processing your words and struggling to form a response. "yeah i just noticed since you're usually here alone."

(oh shit. am i a creep?) things were clearly starting to get out of hand for tadashi now. the combination of his composure slipping and the two of you engaging in conversation longer than ever before is making him spill.

"you notice me?" you blink. your face warms, your eyes widen in surprise and your lips spread in happy surprise. as much as tadashi had kicked and beat himself internally today, seeing such a delightful and charming little expression on your face was, to the desperate him, a rare win in all the losses he took today. your eyes were so much more beautiful up close and your eyelashes were so much longer and prettier than he could ever make out.

(i'm losing it it's actually over i'm sooo cooookeddddd—)

"oh well it's just that you are a regular and stuff—" he stammered, flustered and mentally trying to reach for something, anything, to play it cool. even his stammering, flustered, uncomposed and off-guard reaction is cute.

"huh. everything was very delicious, as usual. i gotta get to showing them around the city. thank you for everything tadashi, i'll catch you some time later!" you thank tadashi with another one of your bright, warm smiles that catch tadashi off guard, warming him from the sea of his cold thoughts. you shove your receipt into your pockets and hurriedly turned your back towards him, rushing to leave the door and meet with your companion.

(oh my god they don't want to talk to me anymore they'd rather be with their very important person instead)

tadashi is left standing at the counter, alone and quite frankly, the most internally conflicted and overstimulated he has ever been in the entire history of interacting with you. in the span of only a few moments that covered seconds, if not a minute in real time, he's felt abject dejection, desperation, hopelessness, warmth, adrenaline and a racing heart, all at once. "oh...thank you for your patronage, as usual. see you around." he says to himself dejectedly.

he walks to the table you two were just seated at and collects the neatly stacked plates and glasses to process and clean at the sink. he rolls up the sleeves of his cardigan and gets to work. now his composure has fully slipped in a cafe filled with nobody, moping alone as he scrubbed at the dishes.

"i'm scrubbing cheese and wishing i were somebody else. how sad can this get?"

[A/N sorry i assumed what you, the reader, liked for the matcha latte regular order part etc. i had to do it for the immersion and how people remember all the little details that is what makes love so endearing. tadashi is here and i won't take anything else for an answer. i havent written a proper fic for like so long if this perspective is weird yeah idc i never learned how to write fic properly and its been so long anyway so please feel free to put in requests i can't just be writing about tadashi. or well no actually i can]

#tadashi hamada x you #tadashi hamada imagines #tadashi hamada #tadashi hamada x reader #big hero six #big hero 6 #bh6 #bh6 the series #baymax #hiro hamada

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marwhoa · 1 year ago

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request: hi hil! I read your work and it was amazing! I was hoping you would write the rise boys with a vigilante s/o? (Gn) but the boys don't know that yet and one day s/o is fighting the foot or someone, you decide, then their turtle bf shows up and helps them. S/o forgot they were in costume for a minute before running to their turtle in shining shell and kissing them, so it turns into a whole thing and s/o unmasks themself, how do the boys react??

🝮 “ violet virus ”

rise!donnie x vigilante!g/n

author’s note: eeee !! Gosh I’ve been meaning to post for months, but multiple x readers always stump me. I like making each a completely different story, and sometimes that ends up with me writing waaaay too much. So! I separated this one into a solo. Raph Mikey and Leo will be their own post since I imagine they’ll be much shorter… unless I’m a little freak again and write too much 😭😭. Sheldon’s speech will be the same color as Donnie’s but in italics :))

word count: 4.5k

“ I don’t understand why you won’t disclose this information, Shelldon. ”

Grumbles the turtle clad in purple as he sits on the floor of his lab. Tools are strewn around within reaching distance, framing him, Shelldon, and the computer plugged into the robot boy. The screen displayed a long history of access points to Shelldon’s database—none of which Donnie had the clearance for.

Odd.

A little sigh plays from the little bot’s speakers as his digital eyes shift elsewhere.

“ The information you seek is, like, confidential, dude! ”

“ Whuh—not only are you keeping secrets from your father, but you would even ‘dude’ your own father?! Poppycock! ”

Frustrated, Donnie throws his hands in the air, eyes fixated on the display screen. Error sounds growled through the computer’s speakers each time his program attempted to break through its encryption.

Just who could write an encryption code that could thwart even Donnie?

“ It just makes no sense. As not only your father but also creator, I should have complete access to any and all of your databases. Is this a rebellious development, update 1.2?! ”

Shelldon rolls over, groaning out in annoyance. He couldn’t just flat-out tell him, “ oh papà! you mustn’t worry, i am only hiding the identity of a certain vigilante you’ve yet to encounter! “, no, no, that would be absurd.

That would be a betrayal to you, Donnie’s kindhearted significant other who just couldn’t stand for the Purple Dragons’ treatment towards your dearest darling dear. I mean, what partner would stand on the sidelines as a measly cheerleader in the face of someone daring to disrespect YOUR boyfriend? Quite literally the smartest man alive (probably)?

It didn’t help your case that you were pretty powerless, aside from some scrounged-up determination, a pinch of courage, and a heavy dosage of computer expertise. Nothing up to par with Donnie, but it was remarkable by human’s standards. Combine that with the help of a sentient robot named Shelldon, and you were a force to stand on equal footing with that malicious group of super-nerd-punks.

Watching Donnie writhe with frustration, Shelldon can’t help but hope his walls were stronger than his father’s.

“ Maybe it’s nothing to worry about, bro, let’s just—“

“ Nothing to worry about—/nothing to worry about/— oh, it’s nothing to worry about, he says! “

A ding resonating from Shelldon draws Donnie’s attention for a second. His frustration churns, flashing into curiosity. It seems as though some sort of distress message has came through, but with a chime unlike what he’s programmed. Donnie drops his head with a laughter akin to a parent reaching their breaking point.

“ Oh-ho-ho, dear son of mine, ”

Mouth open, ready to retort with a snarky tone, Donnie raises his head up but holds his tongue at the sight.

An uncharacteristic silence blankets the robot-boy. Shelldon’s eyes begin to flicker until they beam with deep, velvety-purple hue.

Donnie flinches, shielding his eyes from the bright LEDs as he pointed and snapped his fingers.

“ AH-HAH! See, I knew it. This IS a problem! ”

Shelldon rises to his feet and turns robotically before then breaking into a brisk sprint. The cord plugged into him snatches the laptop a few feet before it ultimately yanks from Shelldon’s socket. Before Donnie could call him to return, his son shifts to quite literally propelling himself out of the lair from the rocket launchers in his feet.

Coughing and waving away the residual smoke, Donnie squints at Shelldon’s rapidly disappearing silhouette. He groans exasperatedly as his hands pull at nonexistent hair.

“ Damn it, I knew he wasn’t old enough to have those installed, Shelldon!! ”

Grabbing his tech-bo, Donnie wasted no time in following right after him.

——-

While your poor partner-in-crime found himself under his father’s interrogation, you are none-the-wiser as your fingers skirt across a keyboard. Your purple gloves whir quietly as they accelerate the computer’s performance—the faster you get out, the better. The display’s light shone on your outfit, one befitting a vigilante’s need for secrecy. Your hair was held back by a bandana while your face was obscured by a half-mask from the bridge of your nose to your jaw. A pair of glasses rested upon it with a little purple ‘ D ‘ logo in the corner.

A long sleeve turtle neck covered your arms and torso with angular purple lines following the underside of your arms and down your sides, tucked into a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring waist. The pants tucked into a sturdy pair of boots, all matching with black and purple. If the light caught you in the right way though, then the faintest detail of smaller purple embellishment akin to the lines running along a modem board would shimmer.

That was a detail you were most proud of, albeit purely cosmetic.

But never mind that, you manage to squirrel your way into a hub room of sorts with large metal cabinets filled to the brim with wirings, likely powering the entire lair. The floor occasionally lit up with the rush of purple LED lights pulsing through thin indents on the floor. You didn’t know what information they carried or to where, but that was not your current concern.

“ Alright, Dragons, what are you looking for with the OKE YX23 system’s blueprints… ”

You whisper to yourself. As streams of data rapidly scroll across the screens, you soak it all up through a pair of modified glasses. They accelerate your comprehension and store databases chock full of what you saw in seconds. It was a neat gadget born of your own genius, albeit with just a bit of help from your beloved Donnie.

“ Supersuits? Why super… ”

Squinting, you slow your feverish typing pace and pinch your fingers on the projected hologram to zoom in and section off a few documents. Blueprints upon blueprints flood your senses, designs for all types of suits, each fully equipped for specific situations calling for varying levels of strength, agility, dexterity, and more. A few documents even detail their uses, discussing ideal fantasies of potential war use.

“ No… No way! This is.. I have to send all this data over to Shelldon. ”

Removing your glasses, you tap the shell icon at the top corner of the left lens to send it all to your partner in crime, Shelldon. As a low chime resonates from the glasses, confirming a successful message delivered, you stare at the purple D logo. Your thumb strokes it fondly as you purse your lips in contemplation.

“ Once I’m done with these dragons, maybe… Maybe it’s time to tell him who I am.. ”

You idle for a moment, your free hand balling in and out of a fist beside you. Wracking your head for answers, your thumb began to stroke the pad of your folded index finger as a sort of grounding measure.

“ … For now, I’ll put a pin in that, I need to figure out how to get out of here. ”

As you shift away from the computer to head out, a loud clanging of the door being forced shut in front of you was enough to set off alarms in your head. Paling, you click your boot’s heel against the cold metal floor a few times. There, you had planted one of your small gadgets to allow quick and easy hacking. It was an attempt to connect and override the system to get the door open, but as you’re met with nothing save for the soft thuds of your foot, a heavy pressure weighs on your chest.

They must have found you out. How long have they known you were here?

Goosebumps scurry along your arm as you look over your shoulder for the compressed hiss of doors mechanically sliding open. Previously hidden doors pulled apart to reveal a hidden hallway and a bot stepping through, its digital gaze settled on you while its heavy footfalls shook the room.

“ Ohhhh noooo… ”

Dragging out the syllables, the blueprints you just saw on the screen were currently whirring to life before you. At the sound of a grating, familiar cackle playing through the contraption’s speakers, your blood chills.

Not good.

“ Looks like a rat slipped through the cracks. ”

You could recognize her voice anywhere. What’s your escape route now? Have they closed all of them off? God, you did not prepare for a fight today—that was NOT on the itinerary!

“ Perfect opportunity to see what these puppies can do though. ”

Fully facing the super-suit occupied by Kendra, you take a hesitant step back as your eyes scan the room. They land on a rather ordinary looking door on your far left, equidistant to you both. The chance to get some distance is all too tempting.

Unfortunately, just as your foot raises to break into a bolt, an “ ah, ah, ah~ ” taunts through the mech’s speaker as it sends a projectile whisking past you with a high pitched pachoo! The object sparks against the wall it strikes and ignites instantly. You can’t help the spike in fear shooting through you internally as the blast destroys part of the room and sends debris flying.

With barely a chance to gather your bearings, your gaze raises helplessly as the bulky suit Kendra was operating closed the gap between you both and slammed a heavy fist towards you. It strikes the ground with a heavy THUMP, leaving a dent that was barely off enough to feel comfortable. You raise your hand to the purple logo on your glasses that sends an S.O.S. distress call to your man-in-the-chair, Shelldon.

Scrambling to get away, you lunge towards one of the wire-filled cabinets palms-first in an attempt to hack and utilize some to your advantage. Before your program fully engaged, you’re yanked away full-force and sent skidding across the floor. In your peripheral you notice two more of these suits enter the room. This is hardly the time to get distracted, you scold yourself, glancing back to Kendra in a nick of time.

“ Shit, shit, shit, shit!! ”

You scream, narrowly dodging a shrapnel of metal whisking past your ducked head and embedding itself into the opposite wall.

“ ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! ”

Through a dramatic display of physical prowess, you screech and lunge every which way to avoid each zipping attack the bot sends towards you. To make matters worse, two more robotic suits emerge from behind the first.

“ That could’ve killed me, you runts! ”

Glaring, you turn your gaze to the maniacally laughing trio of super-nerds, donning what appeared to be the exact same super suits in the documents, all said to be powered by an all-too-powerful AI-chip. The suits’ reflexes are swift n’clean, ran by a superior digital brain that seems to be predicting all your movements even before you know them. In any other circumstances, you would have marveled in their presence.

However, right now it serves as too-great of a foe for you alone. In a pathetic display to keep up, you try to stand your ground against the super suits in a recipe of chaos that ends with you cornered and exhausted.

“ Now, now, Violet Virus,”

The leader, Kendra, steps towards you in a suit designed for strength. It’s bulky, intimidating, and an overall pain. You almost wonder if sheer artillery built into that suit was enough to single-handedly replace an entire army.

Behind her stood Jeremy in a suit built for speed—it’s racing LEDs left you dizzy if you stared too long and was designed to reach speeds fast enough that the residual shock alone might be enough to give your eardrums a hell of a jolt. Its fit was slim and sharp, fitting for the purpose.

Last is Jason, who..

Well..

He didn’t have some flashy suit for some reason.

Honestly, it seems more like just a prop suit. You didn’t even know if it did anything—to be frank, it kind of looked like they picked it up at Spirit Halloween.

“ You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. ”

Kendra’s suit thuds towards you, crouching in front of you. Her robotic hand reaches out to grip your chin between the thumb and index.

“ But that’s all I’ll give you. “

You’re starting to get antsy, mentally begging Shelldon to hurry up in helping you out of this ordeal. In the mean time, you muster the meanest glare, peering through the visual retinas of the machine. The speaker picks up her low scoff.

“ Well, maybe I should reward our little idiot for that signal to our friend,Othello von Ryan. ”

The boys behind her share a laugh in response.

“ … Who? ”

Confused, you yank from her grip, teeth bared in disgust. As powerless as you are to super-suits, an idiot was no where near appropriate to describe you. In fact, to say you were a vigilante with nothing but your boyfriend’s robot under your belt was a lie.

See, your outfit was littered with all types of covert gadgets. This included a pair of gloves and boots to match with dull, illuminated swirls under the pads of your fingers and heels of your feet. Within those swirling pools of light happened to be lie dozens of little terminals awaiting for your command to reshape and hack into any dormant or idle appliances and tech within range.

Pinned to the ground in a sitting position, your hands laid palms down on either side of your body and feet flat to carry out the rest of this operation. So long as they keep their focus on you, they will be completely blind-sided by your retaliation. Inaudible over the commotion, a low groan of circuitry in the walls bowed as your programs seep into their systems.

“ I don’t know who that is, but you’re crazy if you think this battle is in any of your favors! ”

You growled out as the ceilings cave from serpentine cables raining sparks haphazardly. Your program had sent a sort of “ suicidal-sentience ” command through nearby wires that influenced them to rip apart and focus an assault on the super-suits.

Kendra growls in annoyance as metal panels from above knock her to the ground. The limbs of her robotic suit are then coiled up by the snake-like wires. She turns to see a similar fate befalling Jason.

But not Jeremy.

“ Oh, but it is in my favor. ”

Kendra cocked her head in Jeremy’s direction, grinning with an energy that sent shivers down your spine. His suit was equipped with speeds your program couldn’t fathom keeping up with, and as his suit whipped to your side before you could try to run, you were struck and pinned flat against the floor.

“ That was a clever yet feeble attempt. See, we know all about your assets. ”

Kendra recovers quick as she moves her suit to rip the cables off her.

“ … What assets!?”

You kick your legs, trying to get free. Just how much do they know? What do they know? What or which assets could they mean? You hold your tongue in fear of spilling information to potential bluff.

Amidst your confusion, Kendra doesn’t seem too impressed. She might have burst a fuse if not for Jeremy clearing his throat and intervening.

“ What she means, Violet Virus, is we intercepted your help signal. ”

The hair on the back of your neck rose up.

That explains the lack of indication from Shelldon that he received your signal. Your expression sours with worry. What use did they have with him? And wait, Othello von Ryan—

“ You didn’t honestly think you could serve any sort of threat to us, right? Had you even considered that we—practical GENIUSES of the modern technological age—may not have planned to stop at these suits? ”

—Wasn’t that one of Donnie’s aliases?

Kendra roughly shoves Jeremy aside as she crouches back down to eye-level with you. In this moment, you begin to entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe—

“ Your naïveté is sickeningly cute, Vivi, this wasn’t our goal. ”

—you might have bitten off more than you can chew.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Panic was washing over you.

With ice coursing through your veins, you thought about calling Donnie. Maybe if you confess everything about being Violet Virus, he’ll come help?

Or, would he be mad that you kept such a secret and did something so reckless by yourself? A heat wells up in your chest, igniting a fight with the chills. Flashes of hot and cold ran over you as the pieces fell into place.

How long have they known you were working with Shelldon?

Did they let you sneak in this far?

Were you just a stepping stone to get Shelldon?

…

Do they know your identity?

Your mouth dries at that notion. You need to hurry and turn these tides, but before you could put any plan forth, the wall beside you crumbles as a familiar short stature burst through.

The little robot gave heavy thuds as his feet rose and fell against the floor without any personality.

How did everything go so wrong?

“ Shelldon? “

Tone low, hardly loud enough to even be a whisper, you stared wide-eyed at a robot without a twinge of the boy you knew.

“ Shelldon’s not his name anymore, Violet Virus. ”

Kendra’s suit rises above you then moves to tower beside Shelldon. She raises her mechanical hand and rests it firmly on his shoulder.

“ This is Pulverizer now! ”

A series of “ no’s ” fall from your lips as you scramble to your feet and close the gap between you and Shelldon. Your hands tremble around him, unsure where to rest while Kendra breaks down in laughter beside you both.

You could see the computing of some program flickering behind Shelldon’s eyes, indicated some software actively downloading. He remained unfazed by your presence.

“ Shelldon, no, no, no, what are they doing to you?! I have to get you out of here, I’m so—“

“ Pulverizer, engage combat program ZG.09X, ”

Kendra interjects, barking some sort of command. You glance to her then back to Shelldon, baffled as he seems to respond only to that and not any of your efforts. Your eyes widen as his arm begins reeling back.

“ What did they do to y—“

A quick thwack interrupts you as Shelldon socks you across the jaw with a force so heavy it sends you to the floor a few feet. The hit cracked and crumbled part of your mask as bits of it sprinkle the path from Shelldon to where you’d landed. Your glasses had been slightly bent from your head knocking against the floor. The pain throbs through your skull, ebbing from the cheek your hand rose to caress in disbelief.

“ D-Donnie.. ”

As you stared at Shelldon thunking towards you, you couldn’t help but tremble and wish you weren’t alone. This was too much for you, and you found yourself imagining what it would have been like if you had teamed up with Donnie in the beginning instead of being a solo-hero.

Shelldon reels his arm back again, and you raise yours in a feeble attempt to shield yourself.

Shutting your eyes tight, you brace for the impact.

“ SHELLDON, PROTOCOL BOGEY-DOWN 61E9 ACTIVATE! ”

“ What—!? ”

Kendra whips her head around towards the same entrance Shelldon initially created.

You stare wide eyed as your boyfriend bursts in and shouts a command to Shelldon. His dramatic entrance is punctuated by him riding his tech-bo like a hoverboard.

Donnie jumps off, landing straight into Kendra’s mech with enough force to topple it over. He casts a glance in your direction, squints with suspicion, but then turns back to Kendra.

“ I knew it—SEE, I knew it! ”

The purple-banded turtle paces in front of the dazed Kendra, throwing his hands up in frustration. He stops to point back and forth between Shelldon and the rest of the Purple Dragons.

“ Who else could be meddling with MY son’s database but this group of wannabes! “

“ W-Wannabes? Othello von Ryan, this is whe.. damn.. ”

Winded, Kendra takes a pause to catch her breath. Jason tries to come and help her up but gets swatted away immediately. Angrily, she huffs and operates the suit to shove itself back onto its feet.

“ Get AWAY from me, Jase, UGH! Othello Von Ryan, prepare to be defeated by our revenge! Pulverizer, engage combat program ZG.734! ”

She cackles maniacally, jabbing a finger in Donnie’s direction. When Shelldon doesn’t move, the speaker goes quiet for a few beats.

Then, it starts playing a bunch of loud clanks, likely from Kendra frustratedly hitting things inside the suit.

Donnie, however, glances at Shelldon then back at Kendra and stomps his foot. He points an accusatory finger in her direction.

“ Oh by Galileo, if you lot did anything nefarious to Shelldon’s programming, so help me! ”

Sheldon’s fist wavers a few inches from you as different lines of code scroll past his eyes, registering the command Donnie called out. After hearing Kendra’s command, the lines of code began rapidly switching direction until a click resounds. He blinks a few times then looks down at you.

“ No! Damn it, what happened!? ”

Kendra pummels the ground enough times to leave a hefty dent.

Donnie scoffs at her, crouching to stare into the visual receptors of the mech-suit.

“ I see you did not consider I may have created an anti-dragons program with the idea that you would want to control my tech again, did you? ”

As Shelldon came back to his senses, he glanced every which way in confusion. One second he was being interrogated, the next..

“ Your distress signal! Y/—I mean, Violet Virus, bro, what’s the haps? How’d I get here? Ohh, Donnie’s gonna be so pissed at me, dude, he almost found out ab—“

You gawk at Shelldon’s loud voice, shushing him loudly. Whispering, you quickly scold him.

“ Shelldon! We can discuss it later, but right now we need to get out of h—“

As you gesture to leave, you are instead met with Donnie being sent flying straight into you. Your foreheads collide as you’re sent back against the ground with him dazed over you.

“ Technologically advanced mecha suits is an upgrade from our last encounter, I’ll give you that! ”

One of Donnie’s hands rests beside your head while the other holds his forehead, rubbing where you both collided. He groans in pain.

Similarly, you hold both hands against your forehead and writhe dramatically beneath Donnie at the pain echoing from not just your lower jaw where Shelldon struck you, but your forehead too now.

“ Ow, ow, oww! Donnie, that… that.. hurt.. ”

Your voice peters off as you look up at him. The fear was already beginning to melt away as your eyes scan across his face. He had such an uncanny habit of coming when you called, and this situation was no different. As relief washes over you, you forget yourself for a second and reach to give him a kiss. You’re just so lucky to have someone so dependable as him, even in situations where he didn’t mean it. You vow to tell him everything after this.

As your hands cup the sides of his face, Donnie opens his eyes to see you leaning in.

“ Whoa—HEY? ”

Mechanical limbs splay out of his shell and quickly put distance between you and him, stirring a squeak of surprise from you as he stares at you bewildered.

“ I don’t know you! This is a complete violation of personal space and my individual rights! ”

He shouts in disbelief, covering himself like a woman caught naked.

… Oh..

Oh yeah.

Your face flushes with embarrassment instantly. Right now you aren’t Donnie’s girlfriend, but rather Violet Virus. You stand up, ready to explain yourself, only to be immediately knocked back down to your knees as an explosion from another one of Kendra’s projectiles goes off behind you. Donnie’s attention shifts from you to the Purple Dragons.

“ What sort of looney tries to kiss stranger during combat, he exclaims in disbelief! ”

Donnie vents aloud as he twirls his tech-bo around his body. Generating enough speed from the action, he then lunges towards Kendra. Right before he strikes, his index taps a button on the shaft of the swirling bo. Its speed increases as the tip shifts into a hammer-like shape and propels like a rocket to clock Kendra’s super-suit mech across the face. The strike is heavy enough that the robot’s head twists and twists the wrong direction until it pops clean off.

“ No, it’s not like that—and don’t call me a looney! Just, you know me! ”

“ No I don’t! The nerve of some people. I feel the need to add I am a happily taken man! “

You stumble over your words as you try to explain yourself. Slamming your palms against the floor, you inject another offensive virus into the room’s system as your glasses accelerate your visual capacities to keep up with Jeremy’s suit. Just as the program goes into effect, you’re pulled back as Jason’s arm catches your neck in his elbow.

He pulls you back, choking you as the program sets loose through the wires held in the cabinet. The cables surge out and land upon Jeremy’s suit, connecting to ports and lighting it up with enough power to overload and shut down the entire contraption. He gets lit up like a Christmas tree for a second before the suit slams into the ground non-responsive.

You hear a low ‘ damn it! ‘ from inside his suit.

Kicking your feet to try and be free from Jason’s grip, you’re let go only after Shelldon lands one of his heavy, rocket-powered punches to send the boy across the room. Even though he’s an enemy, you wince sympathetically at how much that must’ve hurt.

“ Thanks Shelldon.. ”

You murmur, rubbing your neck. Shelldon beams with pride towards you until Donnie steps between you both. His mechanical spider limbs shooting out once more to make some distance between you two.

" I’d appreciate you not fraternizing with the enemy, Shelldon. ”

He steps away from you and closer to Shelldon.

“ But Donnie, Violet Virus isn’t the enemy! ”

“ Yeah, I’m not an enemy, Donnie, just listen to me for a second! ”

“ Firstly, Shelldon, you’re on a friendly name basis with this fiend?! And secondly, Violet Virus, how do you know who I am? Does my reputation exceed me, I wonder? ”

He pauses for a moment to think to himself, likely basking in the idea of his popularity reaching farther, then shakes away the thought. Donnie takes a few steps closer to you with an intimidating air.

“ This is no good, no, no. Violet Virus, might it have been you who— Hold on. ”

As his gaze fixates on your glasses, you sharply suck in a breath by accident. Coughing, everything you wanted to say caught up too quick for even a single word to slip out. You needed to tell him! What will he think, that you’re a thief?

“ Wait—“

“ How do you have that, that’s.. Wait. ”

He crosses his arms, tapping his index against his bicep as he circles around you. Donnie stops in front of you, hums something mid-thought, then cracks a smile.

“ Ah, I get it now. How clever you are, my dear. ”

“ What? ”

You hesitate as he closes the gap between you both. His face softens as his hands make quick work of sliding your broken mask off. Without needing to explain a word, it seems he made quick work of who you were.

“ So this is what you’ve been up to.. Why? ”

His hand caresses your cheek.

“ I… Wanted to get back at the Purple Dragons—for you.. ”

Donnie cracks a bigger grin and chuckles, leaning a bit to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

“ We can discuss this when we get home, then. ”

#rise tmnt donnie x reader #rise tmnt Donatello X reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donatello x reader #Donnie x reader #Donatello x reader

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 7 months ago

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out of my league | pedri gonzalez [part vii]

🎓 synopsis: With a little help from your friends, you finally gather the courage to reach out to Pedri, and the two of you have a much-needed, honest conversation. tags: nerd and jock trope, angst, emotional conflict, suggestive content but nothing explicit. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 3k words)

you can read the first part here, or go to the masterlist.

The fluorescent lights in the convenience store feel too bright, too harsh as you walk down the aisle, scanning the shelves for anything to justify being here. You didn’t need to stop in, you don’t even want anything, but walking aimlessly has been your coping mechanism these past couple of days. It’s better than sitting in your room and letting the silence get to you.

To your surprise, Ferran and Pablo are standing by the counter, laughing at something, and your first instinct is to turn around and leave before they notice. But before you can even start moving, Gavi’s eyes dart in your direction. He freezes, then elbows Ferran and tilts his head toward you. You see Ferran look over and you wish you could disappear.

You think about all the times you’ve seen the two of them around campus without them ever noticing you. How you’d blended into the crowd so easily back then, invisible in a way that felt safe. Those were better days.

But now? Now, Pablo is already walking toward you, Ferran groaning but following reluctantly.

“Hey, what’s up?” Gavi greets, his voice too casual for the way your heart is racing.

You nod back shyly, not trusting yourself to speak.

“I just wanted to say,” Gavi continues, raising both hands like he’s about to make some kind of formal declaration, “that, for the record, I think you’re way cooler than her.”

Your lips twitch, but the laugh that escapes is dry and brittle.

“Shut up, bro,” Ferran mutters, rolling his eyes. He looks at you, his tone softer. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” you reply automatically, though the lump in your throat is already forming. You look at the floor, wishing the tiles would just swallow you whole. But the weight of everything pushes down harder and harder, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes are welling up.

“Oh, shit,” Gavi says, his tone shifting immediately. He looks at the sandwich he’s holding, then pulls the napkin off it and offers it to you. “Do you... uh, need this?”

You blink at him, caught completely off guard. You’re not sure whether to cry harder or laugh.

“Umm... no, thanks,” you manage, shaking your head.

Ferran lets out a long-suffering sigh and grabs Pablo by the arm, steering him back a step. “Dude, give her some space.”

Pablo looks at you apologetically, clearly unsure of what to do now. Ferran, at least, seems to understand the awkward tension. “Look,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “If it helps, we all thought that whole thing was messed up. None of that was your fault.”

You want to believe him, but the weight in your chest doesn’t budge. You’re about to stammer out some excuse to leave when Pablo’s face lights up, like he’s just remembered something.

“Also, can you at least call him?” he blurts out, his voice louder than necessary.

“Gavi, bro, shut up,” Ferran says immediately, his tone sharp, clearly uncomfortable with where this is going.

But Pablo isn’t fazed. “He keeps watching The Terminator over and over again, and it’s driving me crazy,” he says, throwing his hands in the air like he’s genuinely exasperated. He turns to Ferran, completely forgetting you’re standing there. “Like, I get it – great movie – but three times in one night? I swear I’m gonna lose it.”

Ferran drags a hand down his face, groaning. “Why are you like this?” he mutters, shaking his head.

You stare at them, frozen. The Terminator. Of all movies. The first time Pedri watched it was with you, sprawled on your bed, now, the thought of him rewatching it alone, over and over, makes your heart break in tiny pieces.

“I – uh, I should go,” you mumble, stepping back toward the door, the urge to escape stronger than ever.

Ferran sighs, giving Pablo a look before turning to you. “Hey,” he says, his voice softer now. “Don’t let this guy get in your head. Just... think about what I said, okay?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to say anything.

As you leave, Pablo calls after you again, but Ferran quickly cuts him off. The door shuts behind you, and the cold air hits your face, grounding you just enough to stop the tears from falling.

But the mention of Pedri lingers. You can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. Ferran’s words echo in your mind, looping in a way that’s equal parts annoying and comforting. It wasn’t your fault. And Pablo’s, too.

Without fully realizing what you’re doing, you slip your phone out of your pocket, the words just call him bouncing around in your head. Your fingers move almost on autopilot, finding Pedri’s name and hitting the call button.

The line rings once. Twice.

Your breath catches, and panic shoots through you. You fumble to end the call, heart pounding as you stare at the screen. What am I doing? You weren’t even thinking – it’s just that calling him felt so natural, like muscle memory, and now you’ve gone and –

Your phone buzzes in your hand.

Pedri’s name lights up the screen, and for a second, your brain goes blank. He’s calling you back. You freeze, staring at the phone.

It keeps buzzing.

You bite your lip, your thumb hovering over the screen. You could let it go to voicemail. Pretend it never happened. But something in you – the same something that made you call him in the first place – pushes you to answer.

You swipe to accept the call, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Pedri says immediately, his voice cautious, like he’s not sure if you’re going to hang up on him. “You called?”

Your mouth is dry, and it takes a second for you to find your voice. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. It was... a mistake,” you stammer, though even you don’t sound convinced.

There’s a pause, and you hear him exhale. “Oh,” he says, and you can hear the disappointment in his tone. “Right. Okay.”

But then he hesitates. “I’m, uh – I’m glad you picked up, though.”

You blink, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, and you can hear the faintest smile in his voice. “I... I’ve been wanting to call you. I just didn’t know if you’d even want to hear from me.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Your fingers tighten around the phone.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Pedri adds quickly, misreading your silence. “I just – I’m sorry. For everything. For not handling it better. For putting you in that position. For...” He trails off, his voice breaking just a little.

You stop walking, standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, your breath visible in the cold night air. You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself.

“I didn’t call to hear you apologize,” you finally say.

“Then why did you call?” he asks, and there’s something almost hopeful in the way he says it.

You don’t have an answer. Or maybe you do, but you’re not ready to admit it yet. All you know is that hearing his voice makes the ache in your chest feel a little less unbearable.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “I just... I needed to.”

“Okay,” Pedri says after a pause, “That’s a good reason.” He chuckles weakly.

“Why did you say I was your girlfriend?” you blurt out, cutting off whatever he was about to say next. The words pour out of your chest before you can stop them, unfiltered. “At the party. You introduced me as your girlfriend.”

The tears are back, hot and stinging, and you regret not accepting Pablo’s ridiculous offer of his dirty napkin. “You never asked me, you know. We never had that conversation, and I just thought... I thought you didn’t want that. Didn’t want to be serious with me.”

“What? No! I –” Pedri stammers, his voice hitching as if he can’t find the right words. He sounds like he’s hyperventilating a little, and you imagine him pacing back and forth, one hand tugging at his hair. “I just...” He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again, his voice is heavier. “I knew this would happen. I knew.”

You wish you could see him, wish you could reach through the phone and hold him, wipe away both his tears and yours.

“Knew what?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“I knew Melanie would be a problem, and I knew you’d run away from me the first chance you got.”

“I wasn’t running away from you!”

“Yes, you were,” he snaps, his voice breaking. “And I knew you would. Sometimes... sometimes you just look at me like I’m too much trouble. Like I’m a mess you don’t want to deal with. My ex is evil, my friends are jerks, and you don’t like anything about me. And – and I’m in love with you!”

He’s yelling now, and you feel it deep in your chest, you’re yelling back before you even realize it, your voice rising to meet his.

“I’m the one who’s a mess!” you shout, still walking, still pacing the street as the world around you blurs. “People act like I’m your little charity project!”

“People?” His voice cracks, and it hits you that he’s crying too. “Who are you talking about? And forget them – what about you? What do you think? Just tell me, because it’s driving me crazy trying to figure you out!”

You collapse onto the nearest bench, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. One hand swipes at your tear-streaked face, trying in vain to fix the mess you’ve become, while the other grips your phone close to your ear.

“I’m scared,” you whisper, your voice so soft it’s almost swallowed by the noise of the city around you. “I have zero experience with this. And when I met you, you seemed like you had it all figured out. Friends, a girlfriend, a career. I’ve never had any of that. I’m so scared of ruining it.”

“You’re ruining it right now!” Pedri’s voice is raw, hoarse from yelling. “If you don’t want to ruin it, then don’t! Come back to me. Let me in. Please, stop running from me!”

“I’m in love with you too,” you sob, the words tumbling out because you simply can’t hold them in anymore. He needs to know.

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, save for the sound of both of you crying.

“You are?” he asks, his voice cracking.

“I am,” you say, pressing your free hand to your chest, as if that’ll somehow stop your heart from breaking all over again. “I’ve been so scared, but I am.”

“Then come back,” he says softly. “Please.”

part 2

You bang on his door, your fist barely leaving the wood before it swings open. Your chest is still heaving from running the whole way, your legs burning, but none of it matters. You need to see him.

It hits you as you stand there, heart pounding, that you’ve literally run to him just as often as you’ve metaphorically run away from him. The irony almost makes you laugh, but then the door flies open, and Pedri is right there.

Before you can blink, he’s pulling you into his arms, the door slamming shut behind you. His grip is firm but gentle, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Say it to me,” he says, his voice low, his hands cradling your face. His dark eyes are locked onto yours. “I want to hear it in person.”

You know exactly what he means, what he needs to hear. And so you say it.

“I’m in love with you,” you whisper.

His entire body seems to relax, the tension melting away as if he’s finally allowed himself to breathe. He looks exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes telling you he probably hasn’t slept much since the night of the party, and you realize you probably look the same.

“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and the corners of his mouth curve into a shaky smile before he kisses you. It’s desperate and hungry, but there’s so much love in it, you feel like you’re about to melt into him.

He’s guiding you to his bedroom before you even notice, murmuring a soft, “Sorry it’s a mess,” between kisses. You barely register his words, too consumed by his touch, his taste, the feel of him so close.

But when you look around, you can’t help but laugh. It really is a mess – clothes everywhere, his comforter half-hanging off the bed, empty water bottles scattered on the nightstand. You don’t take your eyes off him, though, even as you laugh.

“Baby, don’t laugh,” he pleads, but he’s grinning too, his forehead resting against yours. “I was so sad.” His voice carries a mock pout, but there’s truth in it. “I couldn’t leave my room for two days!”

“Pablo said you kept watching Terminator,” you confess, your smile widening when Pedri’s face twists into shock.

“What?!” Pedri pulls back just enough to look at you, completely scandalized. “When? Why would he say that to you?”

You’re laughing so hard you have to grab onto his shirt to steady yourself, and then you’re pulling him down with you onto his bed. You fall back onto the mattress, dragging him along, and the next thing you know, his lips are on yours again, silencing any more teasing remarks you might’ve had.

He keeps trying to kiss you and talk at the same time, like he wants to do everything at once. His lips brush against yours, then down your jaw, and between kisses, he murmurs, “I’m going to ask you, okay?” He pauses to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “I’m going to ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You hum in response, but he suddenly stops when he realizes you’re barely paying attention to his words. Your focus is entirely on his torso, your fingers tracing the lines of his six-pack while you press soft kisses to his skin.

“Hey,” he says, as he gently holds your face to make you look at him. His dark eyes shine with amusement. “And you’re going to say yes.”

He leans in to kiss you again, this time longer, slower, leaving you breathless. But just as you’re melting into him, he pulls back to talk again, now fumbling with his belt. “And we’re going to tell Melanie to fuck off.”

You laugh out loud when you see him struggling, trying to multitask and failing spectacularly. He’s kissing you, tugging at his pants, and reaching to hold your hand all at the same time. You start helping him, pushing his hands aside to unbuckle his belt for him.

“Right?” he asks, voice full of hope.

"Right," you nod, breathless for too many reasons to count, and the two of you kiss, again and again and again. His hands are everywhere, they slide under your shirt and pull it over your head. Your confidence falters, insecurity creeping in when you look down at your boring beige bra. You hadn’t exactly planned for your day to end on his bed.

But Pedri shakes his head, already noticing your hesitation. “Don’t be selfish,” he says, as he gestures to his torso. His skin is marked with faint scratches from your nails and the occasional red blotch where your lips lingered. “Your hands are all over me. Let me see you too, come on.”

A wave of shame washes over you, but his eyes don't shift. You want to be good for him, good to him, so you nod and let his fingers slide the straps off your shoulders.

“Selfish girl,” he mumbles, almost to himself, shaking his head as his lips find your collarbone, his hands trailing over your arms and ribs. He takes his time, worshiping every inch of you. “Trying to keep this all away from me.”

You don’t know how to answer him, so instead, you let your hands find their way to his hair, tugging just enough to make him look at you again.

“Say something,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, more serious, as if he needs the reassurance.

You hesitate, your heart pounding as your fingers trace over his cheek. “I want this,” you say finally, your voice barely audible but steady. “I want this so, so much. Sometimes it's all I can think about.”

His forehead presses against yours, his hands resting on your waist, grounding you both. “Good,” he says softly, “Because I’m not letting you run away again.”

The mess of his room swallows up both your scattered clothes, blending them into the landscape of mess. When he finally enters you, a deep groan escapes him, and you feel his body relax against yours. His breath is hot on your skin as he whispers, “I missed this so much.”

Your heart races, your skin damp with sweat, your body still holding onto its tension despite your efforts to let go. Shifting, you guide him beneath you, trying to turn your nervous energy into something useful, something good.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breathless as your hands find his neck, pulling him into a kiss that’s both an apology and a promise. “I’m not going to be selfish anymore. I’ll give you what you want, Pedri.” Your tone turns teasing as you move on top of him, feeling the smile curve on his lips against yours. His hands trail up your sides, as you both begin to lose yourselves in each other.

➜ Next Part

#football fanfic #football fic #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez x you #pedri gonzalez #brightlightwrites

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valentine-cafe · 8 months ago

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Been hiding in your walls for a while but

Bros can i ask for a forehead kiss from your softest men

This week has been 🫠💀😭😩 and its only MONDAY

˖⁺. “ all is well . . . ” :

﹙ multi monster boyfriends x gn reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . various monster males x gn reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ mercenary ˖ grim reaper ˖ poet ˖ hero characters ﹚

they give you a little forehead kiss

﹙ cws ﹚: none ! | wc : 0.5k

﹙ receipts ﹚: i really hope you're doing better and that this makes you feel better :((

꒰ other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

﹙ alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : soft lips brush against your forehead, while a pair of gentle hands reach down to your waist and hold onto it. the warmth of his body presses up against yours as you are enveloped in a hug.

“rough week amore?” he croons in a whisper, smiling against your forehead while he gives your scalp a gentle massage.

as his lips press to your forehead, he sighs softly and rocks you from side to side in the comforting hug.

“let me take care of you. we can get something to eat, or drink. anything you’d like.”

꒰ mercenary ˖ antihero ˖ immortal ˖ punkgoth character ꒱

﹙ rishen 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : immediately, his hands lay the work that previously were in his hands. documents scattered on the desk as usual. while he makes his way over to you to take a soft and careful hold of your jaw with both of his soft hands.

his eyelashes flutter softly. maroon eyes crinkling with a soothing happiness that leaves your limbs easing and finally resting.

“you don’t even have to ask cariño.” he chuckles softly, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. warm and enough to make you fall into his hug some more.

“i got you.”

꒰ hero ˖ moth-spider-mantis hybrid ˖ preppy nerd character ꒱

﹙ talisen 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : long fingers stroke along your cheek and then trace their index down the side of your neck. the small crease in his brows mimic the light curl of his lips.

“oh. . . oh my darling,” the iciness of his hand cups the small of your back. talisen pulls you close and the frost meet your forehead soon after. the hand slips up and caresses the back of your head to ease it into his shoulder.

“confide in me. may I make your worries no more.”

꒰ grim reaper ˖ naga ˖ poet character ꒱

﹙ jìngyí 9948e. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : within a matter of seconds, the feel of soft lips press to your forehead. then again. and again. and again.

two your cheeks. one to your chin. your nose. and one more to your head for good measure.

a puppy-eyed look takes on those big maroon hues of his. his lips pull into a pout while two large hands take your face between them.

“no sad, please?” his deep croon couples with yet another kiss to your head. “let us go for ice cream!”

꒰ grim reaper ˖ angel-in-training character ꒱

﹙ rishen 9948e. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : the feel of softness is not the first to grace your presence, but the engulf of warmth and velvet-like comfort. his wings find their way around you in a matter of seconds.

his lips meet your forehead. delicate hands that litter with jewellery cup beneath your jaw. his thumbs press up into your flesh and circle soothing motions.

“stay with me for a bit, mi amanecer.” one of his hands finds refuge at the center of your spine and then slowly trails down to the swell.

꒰ angel character ꒱

﹙ orion. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : a set of 3 wings would wrap around you slowly, while arms pull you closer to the angel you had asked to give you a little forehead smooch.

for an abyssal inhabitant. he was warmer than most. you felt it especially when his lips moved to your forehead and stayed there for a few minutes. a long, healing and soothing forehead kiss.

you know he never spoke much, you received a hum and a smile. while a hand rubbed circles into your back. and that was enough.

꒰ abyssal angel ꒱

﹙ taglist. ﹚: | get tagged for specific posts

﹙ tip jar. ﹚: like our work? consider suporting us 𖹭

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moralesmilesanhour · 2 years ago

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Ooo hi, can you write something with gamer/streamer Miles G? Maybe he and the reader just chill and play games talking about life or whatever.

streamer miles!

Ok this went in a sliiightly different direction but the general premise is the same i hope that's ok lmao (also lowkey trying a new writing style/approach)

A/N: comment which animal crossing villager you think miles would like if u want 🫶🏾

You only really see a fraction of a person online.

The messy, disagreeable thoughts that don’t fit into a neat little post, every time you’ve ever tripped over something and ate shit, all of your worst outfits - none of it exists if you don’t make it known. If you decide you’ve never stumbled over your own feet a day in your life, then it’s so. No one’s gonna claw their way through your screen and check.

For example, you had never seen Miles Morales smile with his teeth before until you clicked on his livestream, and none of his viewers would ever be able to guess.

He was laughing at some joke being made in the chat.

“Y’all are terrible,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

Miles’ stream had been recommended to you by the ever-mysterious, totally-not-creepy algorithm ‘based on your location’, and the thumbnail with his dimples on full display piqued your curiosity.

He’d been passing by once when you accidentally dropped your books and folders while rushing to class. He knelt down and picked them up without a word, dropping them into your hands in a much neater stack than they had originally been in, from largest to smallest.

Your eyes met for less than two seconds, but you could’ve sworn that there was a softness to them that couldn’t be caught from a distance.

“Thanks!” you called out as the late bell rang. He only nodded before turning away, not bothering to walk any faster.

You never spoke to him again, having no idea what you’d even say. He rarely spoke outside of class, but you had assumed that based on the way he skulked down the hallway and the permanent ‘I’m bored’ look on his face, that he’d be playing something a little more…serious? ‘God of War’ maybe, or ‘Last of Us’. Or some sports-related game that you couldn’t understand.

Certainly not ‘Animal Crossing’.

Tentatively, your fingers hovered over the keyboard as the stream of comments began to slow, and you wondered if he’d be more likely to see it if you commented this instant.

–Who’s ur favorite villager?

There, nice and simple. Inoffensive.

Miles squinted his eyes at what was presumably a second monitor.

“Who’s my favorite villager?” His brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he put two and two together. “Oh! You mean the li’l animals and shit. Um, the blue penguin? Ace? I like him.”

You sat back and watched him play for another fifteen minutes, most of which were spent figuring out what direction a couch sitting inside his virtual home should face. His voice was low and almost raspy, but…muted. As if someone had turned the volume down on it like you would the radio. He was fortunate to own a decent microphone.

–You got your own PC?

It seems you got lucky a second time, and Miles paused to read your comment aloud once again.

“Yyup,” he answered proudly. “Put it together myself. I’ll do a tour one day. My setup is wavy, you’ll see!”

He continued going back and forth with the comments in chat, occasionally thanking some for making small donations. The fact of him making anything at all just from playing a video game was impressive.

Miles remarked on the ‘classical style’ of one of the buildings on his island, and you snorted. Nerd.

–bro thinks he’s an architect

This made him giggle. A light, breathy sound that you would hardly expect to come out of him.

“You’re a hater, man. Watch me get hired as soon as I’m outta college and build yo’ next apartment building.”

You looked down at your phone and realized it was nearly one in the morning. With a yawn, you said your goodbyes in the comments and left the stream.

The cafeteria was full by the time you got downstairs, leaving not a single space on the white benches save for two completely empty ones near the back.

Well, not completely empty.

As you weaved in between students carrying trays of slop with milk cartons, a familiar pair of cornrows came into view.

It’s now or never.

Timidly, you slid onto the bench right beside Miles. Focused on his meal and the tattered sketchbook he carried around, he looked up at you with just his eyes.

“Hey,” you tried to greet him casually with an awkward smile. “I saw you ye–I mean, I…I saw you. In general.”

His blinked slowly. “We all go to the same school.”

You cleared your throat.

“...Right. We-uh, met in the hallway.”

“You dropped all your books on the floor.”

“Yeah!” you replied a little too loudly. “I just, um, wanted to say hi.”

“...hi.”

There was a stretch of silence as you sifted through a list of topics to rescue the conversation, and a lightbulb went off.

“Do you have any hobbies? Other than drawing, I mean.”

Miles gave up on sketching and answered, “Video games.”

“Which ones you been playing recently?”

“Uh, Mortal Kombat, 2K,” he counted on his fingers, “and Animal Crossing, just to see what it was about–”

“Oh, you’re really good at that one!”

You both froze. Uh-oh.

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“I-I mean, you just…look…like the type?”

You started frantically chipping away at the remaining nail polish on your fingers. Not even you could believe that one.

A tiny grin played on his lips.

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

Soon the bell rang, saving you from making any further incriminating comments.

“See you in class?”

“Yeah, see you in class,” Miles replied, before tilting his head. “Or wherever I see you.”

#y'all like my lil gradient i like this color #miles morales fic #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #moralesanhour

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