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livelaughlovesubs · 2 months ago

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~ 04.10 - Neuvillette ~

Dom!reader x sub!Neuvillette - reader is gender neutral

Warning: boss (neuvi) /assistant (us) relationship, neuvi & reader are both virgins~, vent fingering, bathtub, heat (implied), dragon anatomy, rubbing his dicks together, mind break, sub space, breaking into his house (lol)

~ Word count: 6.8k ~

Nini!rant: special thanks to @sh1-n0bu for explaining her reptile kink to me <3

Kinktober list 2024

It was sunny on that day, no clouds were in sight, only the clear blue sky could be seen. The bustling sounds of the people are echoing from every corner, whispers akin to the buzzing of bees reached your ears. “Did you hear…” one of the shopkeepers murmured, “our archon, she…” another person commented. As always, people seemed to love gossip or rumors.

You couldn’t blame them, their curiosity was justified. Normally you would have wanted to eavesdrop a little more, but not this time, because you had other things to worry about. Today you were going to get a different position at work, all you hoped for was that it wouldn’t be worse than the previous one. You took the elevator upstairs, then made your way to your workplace, where you’ll have to deal with nasty higher-ups again.

If it were for you, you’d fire them all, every single one of them couldn’t do anything yet bosses their subordinates around like they are worth less than dirt. Not to mention all those unreasonable rules, who in their right mind would remember them all? After a short walk, you reached the Palais Mermonia. Hectic footsteps emerged from the building, the source was without fail beneath that unnecessarily huge door. With a final sigh, you opened that door and went inside.

First things first, since they told you that you were going to go to a new department, you had to wait in front of the office of your boss until he assigned you a new role. He was the chief justice of fontain and thus had his own room. It was the last chamber on the right. When it was finally your turn, you heard someone else opening the heavy entrance and walking in. No, not just one, many people, a big group of them, alongside photographers snapping pictures.

That wasn’t your business, so you ignored it and went on with your own life. You put on a fake smile as you greeted that old, insufferable boss of yours, “Good morning Monsieur, what can I do for you?” Your soft and calm tone, honed to perfection, was as flawless as ever. Not a single soul could guess your true feelings beneath that facade. Slowly you got closer to his desk, and he finally notices you.

“You are here, y/n.” He noted, without returning your greeting. “You know you are getting a new job, an important one at that. Don’t fail me.” That man said as he stared right into your eyes, a poor try to intimidate you. “Yes, I understand. May I know the nature of my work?” Despite his impoliteness, you replied in a professional manner. In truth you were sick and tired of this, why did they always have to beat around the bush? It was such a waste of time.

If in the end you have to work overtime because this superior of yours won’t stop yapping, you were really going to throw hands.

“You will see soon.” He said and pointed toward the couch on the left side of the room. You sat down on it soon after, not questioning all this strange behavior. How you hated this, but regrettably the pay was too good. After a short while, the door opened, and the crowd's screams seeped into the room. It got muffled again when the door got closed, the only sounds remaining were the footsteps of two individuals.

You didn’t think much about it and stayed seated, your boss on the other hand got up immediately and welcomed the two guests with open arms. He put on a cheerful air as he said, “Welcome! Thank you for taking the time to visit this humble place, our dearest hydro archon! You as well… errr.. Monsieur!”

Wait what?

Did you hear that right? The hydro archon, focalor? What is she doing here! How could it be that someone like you would be granted the chance to meet her in such a close and intimate setting? This has to be a joke, this has to be- “no need to thank us, please, I have to be the modest one in this situation.” She spoke, her voice was soft like silk, she’d be a great singer. “No way, I’d never dare to disrespect our archon like that. Y/n, you come here too and greet our archon!”

You heard that man call out to you, so you hurried over. There she was, a lady with beautiful long silver-white hair who owned a strong aura. This was no joke, she was the real deal. “Please excuse this citizen, I humbly greet the hydro archon.” You bowed, trying your utmost to be the best version of yourself. From the corners of your eyes, you saw a tall male standing behind the archon. He also looked important, as well as strong.

The way he stood there was confident and serious, something about him told you he wasn’t human. That feeling was supported by his appearance. Putting aside the fact that he was astonishingly beautiful, his hair was also long and white, and some blue strands could be seen on top of his head. Also, he was definitely filthy rich, his clothes were the top quality and looked like the meticulous work of a private designer. Just what did you put yourself into?

Focalor smiled gently, a parent-like smile as she spoke, “It’s alright, I should thank you for taking care of my friend here. Please do your best.” Now you were genuinely confused, this was beyond your comprehension. Was it something only high-ranking people understand? Was it a quiz? You don’t remember helping someone whose Titel was the friend of an archon.

Before you got the time to ponder over her words, she already explained it, saying, “From today onwards, my friend here will take over the job of chief justice. That means you’ll work under his command. But you see, he isn’t good with people, so I’d like to ask you to take care of him.” If this man here will become the new judge, then… you turned over to your now ex-superior, staring at him blankly. “I’ll retire soon, work hard y/n.” He said while smiling irritatingly, before patting you on the shoulder, as if he’s proud of you or something.

How you despised him. Did this really have to happen so spontaneously? Couldn’t they have given you a goddamn warning? A heads-up? You couldn’t get angry though, not in the presence of your deity. “I.. ehm, I accept this job with great gratitude.” You eventually uttered, not knowing what to do in such a situation. Well, you didn’t have a choice, did you?

“Good, how fabulous, then may I request for you to leave the room first?” The archon said as she turned over to look at your ex-boss, and he rushed out of the room just like how he rushed to them the moment he heard their footsteps. Somehow you wished he stayed because it was really suffocating standing there on your own. “I only have one more thing to discuss with you.” Focalor stated, before continuing with, “Can I ask you for a favor?”

You nodded in agreement, replying with a yes. “Could you teach him how to behave like a human? As you probably noticed, he isn’t of the same race as you, but I’d like for him to live among humans freely.” She smiled widely again, bringing forth a sense of comfort. Despite that, you were still hesitant and on edge. The words she voiced out; not human, teaching… it sounds like you’ll have a lot of extra work in the future. Also, how do you teach someone how to be human? Isn't it more of an instinct kind of thing, do you just tell him to have common sense?

“Great! It put me at ease to see my friend here got such a caring assistant, please take care of him in my stead.” Your archon smiled brightly, waving the other person goodbye as she left. Now this is awkward. You were standing face to face with your new superior, someone who was way more important than your previous boss. How great, this is only increasing the pressure at work. With a final sigh, you swallowed the nervousness down and began introducing yourself, “Nice to meet you, I’m y/n, and from today onwards I am your assistant, feel free to ask me anything.”

This should suffice, right? You had to adapt to your new position very quickly, to not seem unreliable, all you hoped for was that he wouldn’t be worse than the last one. “My name is Neuvillette, I’ll be in your care then.” He said while looking at you with his pretty eyes. His eye makeup was very beautiful, or were these markings?

Nonetheless, he was quite the eye candy compared to your ex-boss. Suddenly another concern popped up in your mind, what if he’s a player, or super arrogant? You quickly threw away these thoughts, it would be unfair to judge someone based on their appearance alone. Even though you still hesitated, you forced out a bright smile as always and uttered, “I’ll show you what kind of work you can expect.”

Contrary to what you feared, Neuvillette was very hard-working. He really wanted to do this job well, and he adapted to the position of chief justice very quickly as well. Less than a week later, he was ready to take on court cases and judge the convicts by himself. On the other hand, he didn’t understand humans and their emotions at all. It was difficult for him to learn their manners, especially the meaning of empathy.

He understood the basic concepts, like if someone lost something then they’d be sad. But why should their friend grieve with them as well, they didn't lose anything right? One of his problems was that he couldn’t read between the lines, so if someone didn’t tell him how they felt, he wouldn’t have the slightest clue.

You thought it was due to his rather emotionless nature since he never seemed happy or sad before. He always wore this serious and nonchalant expression, carrying out his duties with the utmost professionalism. He was the perfect judge who stayed clearheaded in every situation, and he was also a great superior. Just saying but, gosh, he finished his work so quickly it was amazing. Also one of the first things you taught him was how to be nice to one’s subordinates, and he’s been following your advice nicely.

Honestly? You enjoyed working under him. Your pay got raised, and you got to take care of a pretty boy. Sure, the hours increased by a bit, but it wasn’t as dramatic as you thought. Sometimes you’d even bring him lunch because you liked his attitude and wanted him to stay until you retire. It was also quite funny how dense he was, things that were normal for you were weird for him. Whenever you saw his perplexed face while studying humans, you couldn't help but chuckle under your breath.

One thing that you noticed after he came to fontain was how the weather worsened. Fontain wasn’t known for having long periods of bad weather, so it was strange how much it rained lately. Well, who knows, it probably doesn’t have a logical explanation behind it anyway. For now, you had to organize these court documents before handing them to 'monsieur' Neuvillette again, humming to yourself as you looked over them. Check.. and check, huh, looking good.

Now you had to find him, where could he be? He wasn’t at the Palais Mermonia, so perhaps he went on a walk? Or was he at his home? The next judgment was going to start in less than an hour, and the chief justice always had to arrive early, even if technically everyone would wait for him to start.

He mentioned to you before how he wished to do his work seriously, and that you had permission to do whatever to teach him if necessary. That’s why you were at his doorstep, knocking on the door while sweat formed on your forehead. You ran all the way here since you didn’t want his reputation to be tarnished by being late. The two of you would need to go to the opera house later as well, and that will take some time too. “Excuse me, Monsieur Neuvillette…?” You called out to him, no response. Weird.

Should you try and look through the windows? Or maybe he’s at the opera house already? That could be it, he has never been late after all. Before leaving completely, you tried to open the door just as a last resort, turning the doorknob. To your surprise, it opened, so the door wasn’t locked. “Huh..?” You gasped, feeling a little nervous now. Why was his door not locked, and should you really just walk inside? After pondering over it for a while you came to the conclusion, well, why not! If he was there, then you’ll quickly get him, and if not you’ll act like it never happened.

Since your reason was important as well, it should be all alright, right? With that being said, you carefully slandered through the halls of his house. His home was very modest, it didn’t reflect his position at all. With his authority, he could have gotten himself a mansion, but he settled for average? Nonetheless, you kept going, opening the doors carefully as if they were out of porcelain. Until you heard a noise. It was muffled through what seemed like a door, was Neuvillette still there or it was an intruder? Somehow you didn’t want to take another step anymore.

You eventually reached the root of the noise, and more sounds emerged from behind the door. It kind of gave you Deja vu, but you weren’t sure what exactly. After much consideration, you just simply opened that door, and warm air instantly hit your face. The room was so hot and full of condensed water, was it a bathroom or sauna?

You squeezed your eyes shut, then blindly entered the room, hands fluttering around to try and find something to hold on to. Then you touched something akin to porcelain, or was it acrylic? When you opened your eyes again, you stood right in front of Monsieur Neuvillette, who seemed to be sleeping in the bathtub. All naked.

It was an understatement to say you were stunned. You were so speechless that you didn’t move for a good minute. What should you do? He is sleeping and hasn’t noticed you yet, should you just wake him up? But this situation was kind of inappropriate. After all, you just intruded into his home and invaded his privacy. Time seemed to pass so slowly, yet you still haven’t come to a conclusion. In the end, you decided to stop being such a wimp and wake him up, then apologize to him a thousand times.

When you gradually got closer to him, you got a better look at his body. His skin was so perfect, smooth, and pale, like these models in magazines. Though he had scales located near his pelvis, which you thought was fascinating. So, when the hydro archon said ‘not human’, she meant a mermaid? There were no mermaid tails to see, perhaps he’s hiding them? Damn, how curious you were, even so, you decided to ask him later since you had other problems at hand. Gently, you nudged his body, hoping that would be enough to wake him up.

Nothing happened.

Then, you shook his shoulder, trying to be tender with him. Still nothing. You sighed, asking yourself what to do. A few moments later his eyelids twitched, and it shocked you to the core, you felt your soul leaving your body for a split second. Now that it has come to this, you were kind of embarrassed. Waiting patiently for him to notice your presence. “Uh.. y/n? What are you doing here?” Neuvillette asked, eyes still half-lidded as he slowly turned to look at you.

“I’m so sorry, Monsieur Neuvillette, but we have a court case in a few-” You stopped abruptly, noticing how his face was all red. “Are you alright, sir?!” In the blink of an eye, you reached out to his face and pressed your palm against his forehead, testing his temperature with your hand. He was burning, did he get a fever or was it because of the water? “This doesn’t look good.. should I postpone the court case?” You mumbled under your breath and pulled your hand back, not noticing the slight blush on his cheeks at your bold moves.

To your surprise, the male commented, “Your hand.. it’s cold, it feels nice.” It seems he really is sick, damn it, you should have taken better care of him. He probably got sick because he worked too much. “I’ll call a doctor, please wait a second.” You proposed, but he denied your idea. “It’s not a big deal, it’s probably because I've been bathing in hot water.” The boy said and stared up at you, his lashes were all wet just like his hair.

Despite the guilt gnawing at you, you had to admit he looked irresistible right now, and the fact that he was all naked was not helping. After more hesitation, your desire won against your reason, and your consciousness was killing you. Should you really do this? You kept asking yourself that question. The thing you were going to do, was it morally correct?

Before you found the answer to that question, you opened your mouth and said half-jokingly, "I understand. But, Monsieur Neuvillette, did you know? There is a very unique human custom that you haven't learned yet." His eyes widened a little, head tilted to the side as he mumbled, "Yes? And what is it?" You swallowed the guilt down your throat and responded, "Our current situation fits the requirements, so following that tradition.. uhm... we could do something… fun, if you want." Look at that unsure tone in your voice, were you trying to convince him or yourself?

Neuvillette looked at you in confusion, waiting for you to continue your story. Eventually, you did exactly that, whispering in a low voice, "It means I could, if you allow it… er, t-touch here..." Out of nowhere, your hand reached downwards, and the sound of water splashing around followed close behind. “Somewhere around here.” He could feel your fingertips brush over his pelvis, and a dark blush covered his face. "I-I see, is it... um, really a custom?" The male shyly looked away, he wasn't sure what to think about this, was it really a cultural thing?

At the same time, he was curious, he wanted to know how humans interacted and worked, so he had to experience it firsthand to understand them. "We don't have to if you don't want to try." You quickly told him, hoping that he was oblivious enough to believe that crazy story. Instead of agreeing, Neuvillette grabbed your wrist and brought it to his crotch. His cheeks were even redder than before as he admitted, "I— I want to try then... I want to learn more about humans."

You could swear you were getting dizzy as well, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sweet voice and erotic display of the male. The uncomfortable yet determined look on his face, and how his body was subconsciously begging you to touch him. Even so, he was your boss, should you really do something like this with him? Your hand kept lingering over his private area, itching to touch him but too worried to actually do it. “Hurry up..” he groaned, and any concerns you had dissipated. “Then.. please lay back and leave it to me.”

Gently, you told Neuvillette to let go of your wrist, and he stayed put all obediently. Seeing how easily he did as you said sent a shiver down your spine, and you started rubbing his belly, causing him to tremble slightly. Neuvillette closed his eyes and sealed his lips together. Your touches moved slowly but surely lower, until your delicate fingertips caressed the baby blue scales above his vent. His breath hitched in his throat, anticipation filling him as well as fear. From that moment onwards, he was yours. His heart beat like crazy, and all because of you, only for you.

On the other hand, you were amazed with his anatomy. The scales were hard and sturdy, but the more you rubbed those beautiful things, the more they softened. It only took a short moment before the male started panting quietly, eyes still pressed into a thin line as he refused to look at you, all due to his own embarrassment.

How cute, you thought. The way he was underneath you with his face flushed like some love-struck maiden encouraged you to go further. This was also how you found out his eyeliner wasn't makeup instead he was born that way. What a beautiful being he was, so breathtaking that he could be an angel sent from the heavens.

The water was clear like glass, you could see everything through it, from his vent to his milky thighs, all of it was laid bare for your eyes to feast on. At first, you wondered if he had a cunt since it looked like one but also not. It didn't bother you in the slightest though. Later on, when you got to the point where you caressed the scales right on his lips, you saw how two dicks slowly emerge from that slit. As if they grew inside him, to the point they were noticeable from the outside.

Right, if that wasn't astonishing enough, there were two? Hah, how incredible! He was really different from humans, and it only intrigued you even more. Neuvillette on the other hand looked so embarrassed, he was never this exposed to anyone, and he also never touched himself there. So you are the first to explore that area, to see this vulnerable, emotional side of his. His expressions were just so pretty~

The fact that he had two dicks was extraordinary, no doubt, but for now you were more invested in that vent of his. With little caresses that were akin to the soft crawls of a kitten without claws, you rubbed the edge of his cunt. "Uh- uhm..! Y/n, please be gen-gentle with me..." He pleaded in a weak voice, hands thrown over his mouth to hide his humiliating noises.

You nodded before caressing that part of him in earnest, and it was so soft, it was way softer than what you imagined. Honestly, you couldn’t even believe what the heck you were doing right now. Playing with him like this, the sheer audacity got you all nervous and lustful. This power struggle was really hot in your opinion. How did things even come to this point? He was only taking a bath, so how are you suddenly doing inappropriate things with him?

The only annoying thing was the water because it kept washing away his natural lubricants. God, you wanted to do so many things to him, to your boss nonetheless, you were so shameless. Then an idea crossed your mind, could you perhaps fit your finger inside that space? Why not try it out..? Gently, or as gently as you could since you had to squeeze a little, you managed to stick your middle finger inside him. It wasn’t even fully in him, yet he was already gasping and moaning.

Hands clenched around the edge of the bathtub, enough for his veins to become noticeable. His insides were so soft and squishy, and the way the edges clenched around your fingers as well as how his dicks twitched was just so erotic. The scales on either side were shining like peals, they had long become soft unlike before. You licked your bottom lip, feeling a sense of lust course through your body.

His pleasure-ridden expression brought you further down this hypnotizing feeling of want and need. “Wha-what is this..?” Neuvillette gasped, gazing at you with a look of confusion and embarrassment. Is this how it is supposed to feel? He did want you to touch him, but this was kind of shameful, yet he didn’t know why. It just felt inappropriate but amazing, he's not even sure if he should stop it or encourage you.

“Y/n… ah, I, mhmm!!” Right before he finished his sentence, you pushed your finger deeper into him, until your digit was buried in his vent to the knuckles. This was quite the fight, though it was worth it. His mouth hung wide open at this point and his entire being was shaking in ecstasy. After making sure he was doing alright, to some extent, you started moving your finger.

Of course, the poor and innocent Monsieur who had never had anyone touch him there yelped in surprise, he didn’t even know you could reach that deep inside! Oh but now he feels like he was being stretched to his limit, and filled to the brim. There was no way he could take any more than this, there was just no way. Your fingers felt so good, he was too ashamed to admit but he loved the feeling of clenching around them, that was all he knew.

He didn’t know the reason why it felt good, nor why he liked it, so he blamed it all on his instincts. "So this is why humans have this custom, it's because it feels so hot and, good..." Neuvillette uttered under his breath, drool was handing out from his lips already. Suddenly you curled them slightly, to press and poke at his soft walls. “Ah-…ah.?!” The dragon couldn’t help but mewl again, his thighs were trembling, causing the water inside the bathtub to splash around.

“This is so fun, isn't it, Monsieur Neuvillette~" You teased while pleasuring him with your finger. "Hu-huh..? uhh- I think so.. er, please address me in-informally in these settings..." He suddenly said, seemingly flustered at the fact that you were using his official title. His adorable words were so cute that you couldn't help yourself again, leading to you rubbing his spongy insides. “HnnGH!! Please… no mo-more..” the male then begged you so sweetly you thought you were going to overdose.

What a pitiful guy, tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill at literally anything. Then it started to rain, the sound of soft raindrops hitting against the bathroom window served as nature's background music for you. “Aw, you want me to stop, Neuvillette?” His two dicks both twitched at the mere mention of his name, precum collecting around his aquamarine tip. Now that you mentioned it, his cocks were fading into blue from his base onwards.

On another note, Neuvi would have been all sticky with precum now if it wasn’t for the water neutralizing it. “I-I mean.. uhh, no, don’t stop haaah...” The male gently placed his hand on top of yours, trying to keep your touch from leaving his body. “I don’t plan on.” You admitted, then used your other hand to jerk off his dicks, taking both with one hand and rubbing them against each other.

“UgGhHH..!! Too much, too- mhm..!” He complained again, to which you responded with, “Aw, don’t be such a fuss, doesn’t it feel good?” There was no denying it because both of you knew he liked it a lot, his expressions revealed it all. “Nghh, i.. I mean-, uhMMm!” It almost annoyed him how his own moans kept interrupting his sentences. Seriously, it was difficult enough to talk and think about how to form coherent sentences, and then his humiliating whines just had to ruin it.

You were enjoying yourself. Oh, you definitely were. His beautiful silver hair was soaked in the water, shining as if stars descended just to decorate his locks. That handsome face of his was tainted with a bright pink, a huge contrast to his normally pale complexion. The tears which were on the verge of falling finally rolled down his cheeks, or was it just the water of the bathtub? Nonetheless, he looked pretty damn erotic in that moment, so beautiful you were dazed.

Neuvillette noticed you staring, which is why he avoided your gaze, feeling too ashamed to hold eye contact. Yes, he felt hot and was craving whatever you could give him, but this side of his was simply too pathetic and lewd! Gradually, the sound and intensity of the rain increased. It kept hitting the window, so you could hear how it got louder and louder, people also started to run under random roofs to keep themselves dry. After you were sure he got used to your finger, you tried to add another one.

“AhHhh! Mhm, no..! There is no-no space left...!” Once again he was trashing around, complaining, making water spill over, wetting you in the process. “Shh, it’s alright, you can do it Neuvillette, I’m sure you can.” You whispered some words of encouragement to him, praising him while you were at it. He heeded your words, trying hard to accommodate your second digit, because he wanted to do it for you. Eventually, he managed to fit both of them inside, even if it was a long journey, “Ah- ahh.. this is, mHffFhm.. your fingers feel to-too gooood♡♥︎?!”

The boy groaned and whimpered, sobbing behind a face of uncontrollable lust. Each of his moans were a blessing from the heavens for your ears, making your heart flutter as if you were going to enter paradise. He was such an angel after all, wasn’t he? That gorgeous white hair he got could be mistaken as a trait of an angel, not to mention his pure and virtuous personality, if he told you he was an envoy of god you would have believed him with no doubts.

“So stunning.” After thinking all of that, you couldn’t help but compliment him again, all while you stretched his vent with all the tenderness in the world. “NGhHh.. m- uhhmm, y/n, please, I want more..” Neuvillette begged you sweetly, eyes half-open as he embraced this perverted side of his. You were genuinely surprised by his words, you didn't expect to hear him plead for more, hence you stopped your movements for a split second. Damn it, you thought he was just an innocent little mermaid, but maybe there is more to it?

To be honest, you were really into all of this as well. Normally he was your superior whom you had to follow and obey like a loyal dog, but now he was like your cute and adorable little pet, begging for you to play with him. How unpredictable the world is, and you didn't mind it at all. Just looking at him was enough to make you happy, and now you got him wrapped around your finger like it. You were ecstatic!

While you were immersed in the perverted appearance of your boss, you subconsciously trusted your fingers in and out of him, ending with him crying out repeatedly and almost creating cracks in the acrylic due to his tight grip. “AaHHhh!! OOHHh..<3! Mhm, too muOochH, fa-fAasterrr.!♡♡♡~!!” At this point, you didn’t know what he was hoping and pleading for. His sentences have long been rid of any logic since he kept giving mixed signals. So all you did was coo at him and promise him that you’ll make him feel good.

His eyes rolled back to the back of his skull when you accidentally brushed over an especially sensitive spot deep inside him. Now he was truly blabbering nonsense, you could barely understand the meaning of his words. When you sneaked a peek at his face, you saw how he was basically melting. Like butter, slowly falling apart due to the heat. Your movements fastened again, repeatedly pushing your digits in and out of him at a quick pace.

You even caught yourself drooling because you were too concentrated on his expressions, how his features twisted into bliss. All due to you and your fingers. “Ahh.. nghHh, I- I can’t.. it’s so we-weird!” Neuvillette managed to groan out with much effort, his entire body was quivering as if electricity was coursing through him. “So-something is..! NghH, hMMn~ <3” Something? What did he mean by that? “Co-coming… it’s co-mHMm, coming out..♥︎～!!!” Ah, that’s what’s happening. Pff—

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his adorable antics, does he even know how cute he was? Carefully, you rubbed and pressed the tip of your fingers against that sweet spot inside him again, almost abusing that poor spot at this point with how much you were touching it. Each time you did that, he’d arch his back off from the bathtub, and his two bluish dicks would jump in excitement. Everything about him was just so cute! Sure, you were smitten with him from the moment you laid your eyes on him, but now you were sure you couldn’t turn back anymore.

How you wished you could devour him. He just looks so delicious, you could eat him out all day long if he allowed it. Not to mention the way his vent clenches around you and churns, it wouldn’t be an overstatement to say you were obsessed, addicted to him. The rest of his body was like a god’s creation as well, sculpted by the meticulous care of the lord.

Each muscle was defined but not overdone, his chest rising and sinking with each breath. His perky nipples also owned a beautiful shade of pink, standing up all proud as if inviting you to taste them. For a second there you were lost in your daydreams, totally hypnotized by the male in front of you. One of his moans managed to pull you out of it, reminding you of your current mission. “UgghHH! Oh-UHhh! Y/n, y/nnn♡♡♥︎!”Neuvillette gasped out for your name multiple times, hoping to reach you.

You’ve been squeezing and grazing his sensitive spots without providing him a break, who would be able to withstand all these currents of ecstasy while staying sane? Though, perhaps the poor hydro dragon wasn’t even in his right mind anymore. He couldn’t speak properly or think clearly, can you really call him sane at this point? No, he was a mess, a fool for your touch, an addict drowning in pleasure.

“Oh? My, I was distracted for a second, wasn't I? You are doing great, Neuvillette, keep going. Cum for me?” You praised him once you took in the situation, now pushing your fingers even deeper inside him, causing his heart to stand still for a second. It was as if his mind was breaking, his brain malfunctioning as hot tears rolled down his eyes and into the bathtub. The loud rain outside the house was picking up, becoming harder by the second.

“MhMNG..! Noo- hhGGNnNMm~ I- I’m aaAngGhh!!” High-pitched moans left his throat, they were more akin to screams of pure bliss than anything else. For a split moment, he could feel his consciousness fading away, blacking out before he returned to reality. Some kind of fluid squirted out of his dick, ending in more pleasure cascading through his veins. “GuHhh, Mhh-nghh...? Ahh, ahGnn y/n, y-y/n… ♡～" Neuvillette gagged and choked on his moans, crying hysterically while his cum kept gushing out of his swollen tip.

His legs shook violently, unable to fathom all these sensations and feelings. It was too much to handle! His orgasm washed over him in the most unexpected way possible, and he wasn’t ready for it. By no means he was, though he wouldn't have been ready until the next century. The consistency of his cum was thick and milky, it immediately sunk down to the bottom of the white bathtub. All his strength was gone as if they got robbed from him.

Neuvillette was limping at this point, his bottom a twitchy something where cum kept shooting out of his slit. You took a good look at him, his hair wet and sticking to his body, head thrown back as if he didn’t have enough strength to hold it up. Those cheeks, ears, and shoulders were all flushed pink, also his mouth was a little open due to his continuous groans. He was panting heavily, breathing still unstable. If you had to take a wild guess, he was probably still processing everything that happened as well as the emotions swirling inside him.

Slowly you took your fingers out, he only reacted minimally to the loss of contact. Eyelid twitching a little when the warmth of your digits subsided. You stared at him, at his fucked out and broken state. At that moment, you were sure he was the most attractive he had ever been. Ah. Suddenly you got reminded of the court case he was supposed to attend. Reality hits you like a door in your face. Wait, what time was it? Could you two still make it in time?

You looked at your pocket watch and.. damn it. 10 minutes until the case begins. There was no way you two would arrive on time, especially since you weren’t sure if he could even walk at this point. Then you noticed how he seems to be coming to his senses, so you gently brushed some strands of hair out of his fucked out face.

While doing that, you wore a worried expression across your features as you whispered, “Uh, first, I’m sorry for entering without permission. Your door was open so I was bold enough to enter, forgive me.” Neuvillette’s eyes widened, did he really make such a stupid mistake, for no reason? Well, he did feel a little hot today, maybe a bit out of it as well, but still. You then kept apologizing, saying, “Second, there is a course case in a few minutes, I’m so sorry for neglecting work.” Your tone was an apologetic one, feeling bad for ruining his great reputation.

To your surprise he didn’t seem bothered at all, instead, he looked away in shame. Probably at the thought of what he just did with you, his assistant. “Uh.. no, it’s fine.. I’m at fault too. I shouldn’t have… gotten you into this mess as well.” You instantly shook your head in opposition, “No no, it's on me. But may I ask, how are you feeling? Does anything feel sore?” His face heated up again and he blushed furiously, you were almost able to see smoke coming out of his head. “No I'm fine..” the male mumbled quietly, still avoiding your eyes.

Without wasting any more time, you proposed, “Then shall we hurry-” “No, it’s alright, y-y/n.” He interrupted you, his voice also stuttered and cracked up as he worded your name. God, he was adorable. “The reporter, who was supposed to be present at the trial, couldn’t make it. He got sick. I.. uh, I met his wife on my way to the opera, and she told me she was going to stop by your office to delay it to you.”

You blinked, once, then twice. So that’s why he wasn’t present. Right, your righteous and hard-working boss would never come too late, there must have been an outer influence. The reason why you didn’t know, was because you were working from home today so there was no way for the news to get delivered to you. What a misfortune, but, you got to do this and that with him, so in the end it was a good thing?

You could feel your own cheeks heat up now that everything was over, and the misunderstanding cleared up. “Err, then.. can I help you with anything else, Monsieur Neuvillette?!” Your voice came out accidentally too rough because you were panicking a little. Damn it.. dealing with the aftermath of your actions was kind of embarrassing. So you really.. did this and that.. haha. Damn your self-control, you even lied to him.

Luckily your kind chief didn’t take your rather loud voice as an insult, instead, he handled it gracefully and said, “It’s alright, I’m sorry that you had to see me in that state. Please wait in the living room while I get ready.” You nodded and left right after he finished his sentence, you figured he’d want a little privacy now that everything was over.

Without wasting much time, you left the bathroom. Slowly, the rain stopped, and everything calmed down again. The fog that was once surrounding everything has also disappeared now. After you left, Neuvillette sighed before slumping back into the water. Whatever just happened… argh, how embarrassing! Please never ever remind him of it, or he might go back to living with nature and Melusines again.

The dragon gazed out of the window, his heart pounding in his chest. He saw as well, how the rainy weather from before left, now replaced by the bright sun. Next time he should be more careful about closing doors and whatnot, even if he ends up enjoying this occasion. His cheeks flushed once again at the thought of you, and he hid under the water. How can he ever look you in the eyes again...?

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

This is going to be a short one, just a quick explanation of the dragon anatomy. (What nobu explained to me)

So, it’s a vent right? Kinda like a vagina but without the clit and looking more like a hole. Then imagine two dicks coming out from the hole, both are curled towards the stomach and the one on top is a little shorter. The tip is rather pointy, with the form looking a little spiky as well? At the base, or the part that’s buried in the vent, it’s his skin colour, and towards the gland it fades into a clear blue, or even mystical purple. Around the veins it’d be slightly purple and it shines a little as if someone poured sparkles over it ✨

Instead of hair, he’d have scales, shiny blue ones (so pretty!!) that cover the entire area. It surrounds his vent and is quite sturdy when he isn’t erect, if you rub it long enough it will become softer. He can hide the two dicks inside his vent or take them out! And a fun fact or headcanon nobu told me was, dragons can only cum from one dick at a time, except they are reaaaally overstimulated.

This artist drew it basically how I imagine it - but they drew it without the vent

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wolvietxt · 3 months ago

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𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗁𝖼’𝗌!

pairing : neighbour!deadpool x reader warnings : fluff, friends -> lovers, mentions of crude humor, violent threats (directed at logan), protective!wade a/n : pretty short i’m sorry😭, a couple of people asked for neighbour!deadpool though so i did merge a few reqs!

your landlord had dropped by to tell you that you had a new neighbour opposite you.

you were very excited, and before you could even go over and say hello, he was already on your doorstep, box of cookies in hand!!

he told you his friend yukio made them :3

you invited him in, and after a quick chat, you’d already decided that you really liked the guy!

he’s surprisingly a good neighbour!

he’s always running his mouth, which is something you had to get used to pretty quick, but once you did, you found it to be rather endearing

you weren’t the most talkative person, long, drawn-out silences seemed to fill most of your days, but with wade it was so different

you found yourself curled up on the sofa with him most nights, watching whatever movie you’d put on as he yapped about all the different things he’d done today

it took him a long few months to take off his mask around you, even when he occasionally enjoyed meals with you, he just pulled up the very bottom of his mask to eat

this broke your heart :(

you had assured him time and time again that it wouldn’t change a thing but he was so insistent on keeping it on

he was too attached to you already to lose you

buuut when you finally convinced him, he stood sheepishly at your door, suit + mask off, instead replaced with normal clothes

you couldn’t help but think he was making a much bigger deal than the situation warranted, but you looked past it, everybody has their insecurities

afterward, he would feel even more comfortable with you than he did before!

he makes an insane amounts of crude jokes >_<

you would have to get used to them pretty quick if you were gonna be around him lots

he’s always asking for little favours!

but of course you don’t mind doing his dishes every now and then when he’s away with logan on missions

he read online that asking for little favours makes you more likeable😭

but it does eventually get quite obvious that his shower isn’t really broken, and he’s usually just making it up as an excuse to see you :)

he does eventually return the favours with little things, like taking your trash out when you need and bringing takeout over

soo protective!

will go out of his way if anyone is bothering you, just give him the word and he will take care of it

how he manages it, you don’t know, and honestly you’d rather not

he senses logan may have eyes for you when he sees logan’s gaze linger on you for a moment too long

he’s sure you don’t feel the same though

just to make sure, he politely threatens logan, that if he ever even thinks about you for more than a couple of seconds, he will be skinned alive and hung up on the wall next to his x-men comic collection

safe to say you are no longer on logan’s mind

he also cooks meals for you!

he’s a surprisingly good cook, he’s learnt a lot from peter :)

he’s hoping you’ll get the hint from all the things he does for you and all the time he spends with you but you seem to be a bit slow in that department😭

eventually (after much mocking from logan and blind al) he plucks up the courage to ask you out :3

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 1 year ago

Note

First off, not to kiss ass, but I really love your writing! I follow three people, one of which is my best friend, and you’re one of them. I always come back to your account for content! Anyways, I just wanted to voice my appreciation real quick. lmao

Aside from all that yapping, if you’re alright with it, I’d love to read some Alastor x reader headcanons, specifically about Alastor’s shadows, and how they act (and if they’re a little naughty sometimes with the reader 😏💀) before Alastor and reader start dating. Maybe they try to encourage him to ask her out? Idk, I just have random ideas floating around in my head. I completely understand if you’re uncomfortable with the idea or just too busy with others, but I just wanted to request since I saw your post about it!

Anyways, ily! ❤️

A/N: i appreciate you so much omg 🫶, thank you sm im so glad you like my writing it honestly means so much. I feel like Alastor’s shadows are so under appreciated but they’re also probably the biggest Alastor haters out here, like they probably piss him off a lot of the time when he isn’t doing business. As for the reader, they definitely steal Alastor’s girl 😏. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this!!

Warnings: shadow magic, AFAB reader, use of she/her pronouns, mentions of death, Alastor being Alastor, his shadows love you <3

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Alastor’s shadows are almost always out to get him

Maybe it’s revenge, who knows, but Alastor hates it

When he first met you his shadows were over the moon about it

They always know what he’s feeling, even before he’s ready to admit them

So after you two first met they started to approach you more

You didn’t notice them at first, going on about your tasks in the hotel

Until you were cleaning a mirror and saw them behind you dancing

You just laughed and shooed them away lightheartedly, but it didn’t work

They tended to bounce between following Alastor and following you around

You had been taking a bath when one of them showed up, peering above the side of the tub

“Go away you, I need some sort of privacy” You said laughing, a bit of water spilling over the tub and within seconds the shadow was gone

Now we all know his shadows tell him any and everything

But they’re just as involved in the gossip as Angel

They’ll go to him and tell him things about you, who you were with, what you were doing, even down to the scent of your perfume

“Hello dear!”

“ Hello Alastor. Anything I can help with?” You asked. He grinned, his smile stretching ear to ear

“ Well I was just curious if you happen to know where the princess could be?”

He asks, his eyes flicking to the wall behind you for a minute.

The shadows dancing in with your own, making cringy gestures to Alastor, teasing him.

“ Oh actually I think she left to an interview with Vaggie earlier today. But that was the last I’d seen her.” You reply, but you don’t notice them behind you. His smile strains, pulling you close and walking down the hall.

“ Well my dear since we are under unsupervised vision why don’t we go out for lunch! My treat of course.”

He’s casual, as if he didn’t just steal you away from his shadows who still wanted to mingle in your presence more.

Whenever he talks to you they’ll just get really excited and cheer a lot behind you, pointing to you and making little kissy faces

he hates it

When you two start dating they only get worse in their antics

They constantly follow you around, acting as if they’re your shadows

Sometimes they take things from you to mess with you but it’s all in friendly spirit

You were doing your hair once and got distracted because one hand insisted on dancing with you

Alastor can never really have you to himself thanks to them, which he absolutely hates

“ Do you mind?”

He’ll ask, the static in his voice only louder as he clutches you to his side. The shadows stand and cross their arms, giving him the sass right back

“ They’re just having fun.” You say, and he lets it slide only because it doesn’t entirely bother you

Now they have joined in whenever Alastor and you try to get alone time

This is also the only time they aren’t against Alastor but more against you

If you ever thought of backing up into a wall to get away from Alastor think again because he’s right behind you sweetheart ;)

If you ever do flirt with them they’ll get really excited and run to Alastor about it, excitedly whispering what you’ve done

If you ever need Alastor and he isn’t near, you’ll usually have his shadows bring him to you

The perks of being with Alastor is he can never really run as long as his shadows are wrapped around your finger ;)

It was late and the hotel was quiet. Sitting in a warm bath Y/n ran the soap over her arms and down her torso, unwinding from the busy day. Until she saw shadowy eyes staring at her from above the rim of the bathtub.

“ Oh hello.” She said smiling, pausing in her actions. The shadow did nothing, sitting still and watching her shyly. “Do you happen to know where Alastor is?” She asked, leaning over a bit so the water flowed off her body easily, her torso now visible.

The shadows eyes went wide, nodding furiously. “Hmm, how about you,” she said, now eye level with the shadow, getting closer. “ bring him to me.”

The shadow had never disappeared quicker, and in its place was a confused Alastor, now kneeling in front of the tub, noticeably lost.

“Oh, Hello my dear! Something the matter?”

He asked, before she grinned, her hand reaching forward to pull him to her by the tie.

“ You’ll find out.”

Bonus:

“Dear they are actively trying to take you from me.” Alastor says, his smile strained and eyes twitching.

“Don’t be so mean, they just need some love too that’s all. Isn’t that right?” You coo, the shadows huddling around you more in a group hug. You giggle as some tickle your sides.

“This is criminal.”

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #alastor

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pshcomforts · 9 months ago

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➳ let you break my heart again | psh.

collegestudent!sunghoon x fem!reader (mentions of wonyoung from ive)

“one day i will stop falling in love with you”

synopsis: you’ve been in love with your friend, sunghoon for a long time but he has eyes on someone else.

warnings/content: college au. unrequited love. pure and heavy angst. cursing. no happy ending. written in third pov. sunghoon’s oblivious. reader is introverted. a little bit of jay x reader.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: part two — ₊˚ʚ falling in love ɞ˚₊

fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend). shameless part two is in the works i swear!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: let you break my heart again by laufey

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:04 ─────|────────────── -3:25

it was a gloomy and early evening, and all y/n could hear were the sounds of bird chirps and wind whispers.

she gave a soft sigh as she arrived onto the school campus. “just a few hours today, it’s gonna rain too..,” she murmured with a saddened expression.

the girl soon felt a harsh arm tug around her neck, pulling her close within the person’s chest.

in an instant, the smell of cologne and fresh laundry attacked her senses and she knew who it was.

“you just got here??” her close friend, sunghoon beamed towards her.

y/n’s heart instantly thumped at the processed words. “yeah.. did you?” she took a gulp, eyes trailing up towards the body figure.

she heard him give a low chuckle that caused her insides to churn and twist all in one. “i’ve been here for a while, dummy. we’ve all been waiting for you.” hoon spoke, arms unintentionally linking her closer in his presence.

the girl awkwardly laughed along before swallowing her feelings away. “oh.. well, i’m here now.”

“finally! i’ve been waiting since 8am!”

“you have?” her head peered up and she only hoped that sunghoon didn’t notice the blushing red around her cheeks and ears.

he didn’t. the stupid boy was oblivious.

so he only cackled a laugh before furiously nodding his head — “yeah! i need to give you an update on how it’s going so far with wonyoung.”

oh.

y/n’s heart instantly sank to the pit of her stomach, killing all of the possible butterflies that had been formed there. “o..oh…,” she mumbled with a lip bite. “yeah, how’s it going so far?”

she attempted a smile but could only go so far with just her lips forcibly pressing into a thin line.

sunghoon didn’t notice the way his friend who’s crushed on him for months subtly withdrew away from him as he yapped on and on about his progress.

“so me and her..,” “and then we..,” “but she also told me..,” “and i really want her to know that..,” the oblivious boy mumbled on, and all she could do was let him run his mouth with how much excitement surged through him.

y/n laughed here and there, playing the simple mannered jokes to quiet down her aching pain that wished to become present.

but even with her efforts, her tears that caused a shine to display in her eyes were worsening her act. and when she quietly sniffed away her snot, sunghoon immediately noticed and stopped in his tracks.

“hey,” he nudged. “you okay?”

“yeah.. no, yeah, i’m definitely fine! it’s just getting cold so i think i’m getting a little sick.” she muffled back with her head turned away from him.

he didn’t give a response. at least, not right away. it was urgently quiet as he observed her body language, almost as if trying to figure her out.

“are you sure you’re okay?” the male softly uttered. his voice was sweet and reassuring, much like his feelings for wonyoung.

“if you need to, just go back home. your head might hurt if you stay in class.” he added in.

y/n hated this. she hated how caring he was, how unintentionally charming he was. she hated it, and she hated him (lies).

“no it’s fine, hoon.”

sunghoon’s face spoke with disbelief in her words. resting his hand on her shoulder, he firmly murmured, “i’m sure the professor will understand, i don’t want you to force yourself-“

“i said i’m fine.” the girl harshly reiterated.

after the cold shoulder, she felt his hand slip off of her shoulder — causing a burning pulse to ache in her heart. he was the one who withdrew this time, and she felt it.

“you didn’t have to be harsh, y/n.”

sunghoon’s hand was about to fully slip away but y/n caught it in time, fingers dangling onto the forearm with hope and regret.

“sorry, sunghoon, i’m just a little irritated with this cold,” she lied. nothing about her runny nose and teary eyes were about a cold. he was the reason, but he couldn’t know that.

✩ ‘i don’t even think that you care like i do’ ✩

hoon sighed. “i know you get a little mean when your head starts to hurt but don’t take it out on me,” he softly joked, playfully nudging her head afterwards.

the girl rolled her eyes before giving a light smack to his arm. “shut up, i’m just not feeling well.” another lie.

“well just don’t get me sick cause then i’ll get wonyoung sick.”

oh.

his words processed into her ears faster than she thought, and her smile dropped.

but when sunghoon looked back at her to see if she laughed at his joke, she quickly wore a grin once more.

“calm down, you guys are still talking.” y/n said with a stab to the heart.

“not after today, i hope.”

her ears perked up. she knew it wasn’t possible for her friend to like her back, especially with how much he always went on and on about a girl like wonyoung; but it didn’t hurt to have a little hope right?

✩ ‘pretend that we are more than friends’ ✩

“what’s happening today?” she asked, finding it hard to gulp down saliva with her heartbeats in her throat.

sunghoon awkwardly chuckled as he scratched the back of his nape. “i’m planning to ask her out today.”

another heart drop to the stomach.

✩ ‘i should stop’ ✩

‘of course.. i’m an idiot…,’ she thought to herself as she exhaled a heavy sigh.

“what? that’s not a good idea?” the boy asked, catching onto that exaggerated sigh.

“what? oh.. no, it’s a good idea! ask her out!” she beamed, displaying a wide smile. she felt like an idiot. her hopes went up for a second, just for it to be shot down like always.

✩ ‘heaven knows i’ve tried’ ✩

“thank you, y/n! you always help me with her, i can’t thank you enough!” sunghoon yelled, hugging and shaking her around.

y/n lightly laughed. “once is enough..,”

“what?”

“what..? nothing! hey, there’s jake and them, let’s go!” she dragged him towards their friend group and sighed in relief.

“you guys are finally here?” jake teased, displaying his full set of teeth as he laid his head on his girlfriend’s shoulders.

y/n nodded. “yeah, i just came on campus.”

“girl, it’s noon!” her friend, ji-woo yelled in disbelief.

“hey, my class is later, so i’m not late!”

“that’s true, at least she’s planning to go to class.” dae chimed in with a shrug in his shoulders.

“exactly! thank you,” the single friend defensively beamed back.

“that’s a first.” min-su uttered, causing cackled laughter to erupt out of the group.

a few topics of discussions immersed before sunghoon intervened with his own — “so i’m planning to ask wonyoung out.”

everyone immediately shifted their gaze to y/n, who had her head slightly drooped down. they knew she liked him. everyone knew, everyone but sunghoon.

but it wasn’t like they could just tell him for her. it wasn’t their place, and she’d honestly rather keep it a secret with how eager he was to be going out with another girl.

y/n softly shook her head ‘no’ towards her three closer friends who intentionally stared at her a little longer than the members. ‘no, don’t say anything, it’s fine’ — she spoke with that head shake.

ji-woo sighed out before uttering, “you’re really gonna go out with her?”

sunghoon’s head tilted to the side in confusion as he responded with a — “yes? is it that surprising?” he turned his attention to jake to get an idea of what his girlfriend meant, only for jake to just awkwardly smile.

“well, you’re just not the type to be that bold, you know?” dae urged, saving ji-woo’s ass.

“yeah, you’re usually more like the guy who just lets stuff happens unintentionally.” min-su said in an attempt to cover their question up.

“baby, i’m sure sunghoon’s just getting more confident with her.” heeseung replied to his girlfriend, intertwining his hands with hers.

y/n’s head slightly bolted before looking at the male who just spoke. they met eyes before he mouthed a ‘sorry’ towards her.

“hee’s right. she just makes me feel confident in being more out there. she’s so sweet, and talks confidently, and..,” sunghoon chattered on.

and it was then that she realized just how different wonyoung and her were.

wonyoung was extroverted, and y/n was introverted.

she was so outgoing and natural in everything she did, and y/n truly admired her for that. she couldn’t ever hate someone who was so unbelievably sweet like wonyoung.

but the two girls were different, and y/n could see just how much sunghoon and her wouldn’t work out. they were too similar, and he needed someone opposite from him.

her. it was her who was like that. wonyoung brought the best in him, and y/n was at least glad for that.

so as hoon kept yapping on about his plan, y/n disassociated with every thought that flooded her head. she couldn’t bare to hear the same words, so the best thing that she could do was just blur out whatever he was saying.

the group took notice and eventually stopped sunghoon.

“hey y/n, doesn’t your class start soon?” dae quickly intervened with an eyebrow raise.

“hm? oh, yeah.. soon.” she blatantly said, no sense of emotion shown.

ji-woo awkwardly laughed as she added, “girl you should start walking.” her chuckle was in an attempt to make light jokes of the situation, but y/n only nodded.

“okay,” she mumbled and got up from the table seat.

“oh, i’ll walk you.” jay uttered, taking the excuse and leaving as well.

sunghoon cocked his head. “what? but i was supposed to walk her. jay??”

“don’t worry, i’ll walk her! her class will be close to mine anyway!” the dark haired boy shouted before catching up to y/n.

“hey,” jay bumped his arm against hers. “you want to talk about it..?”

she sighed as she faced him. his face showed a sickly amount of worry and it only caused her to playfully push his head away.

“does it look like i want to talk about it?” y/n murmured, softly pouting.

jay chuckled. “no, but i’m here if you need me. i know it’s not easy, y/n, and sunghoon’s a little stupid for not seeing that you like him.”

she clicked her tongue as she rolled her eyes. “please, i haven’t shown that i’ve liked him at all. he’s not stupid, he’s just in love with someone else.” when her words actually processed, she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.

the girl stopped her tracks and lowered her head, causing jay to look back at her with pity.

“y/n..,” he whispered, brows furrowing at her state.

“it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” she chuckled through her pain, tears already flowing down her cheeks. “being in love with someone who only sees me as a friend.”

“it’s not. maybe if you just tell him-“

“what, tell him and make our whole relationship awkward? no. he’s already adamant on going out with her anyway, there’s no point.”

y/n’s head lowered even more, hiding away her puffy, red eyes that were clear in daylight. she let out soft sobs before attempting to shut down her feelings.

✩ ‘promise i don’t mean to cry’ ✩

“sorry, this is gross. i’m not crying anymore, sorry jay-“

✩ ‘but i get overwhelmed and confused’ ✩

in swift seconds, jay pulled her into his embrace and softly squeezed her. “your feelings for sunghoon aren’t stupid. you may be for not telling him any sooner, but your feelings are never invalidated.” he muffled through the hug.

the girl cracked a smile at his words before slapping his arms. “thanks.. that was a little mean but, thanks jay.”

jay beamed a sweet and reassuring smile as he stroked her hair for a second. “what are friends for?” he said.

✩ ‘some day, someone will like me like i like you’ ✩

“are you still planning to go to class?”

“should i..? after i cried..?”

he cackled a laugh, shining a smile towards her before mumbling, “it’s up to you, but i honestly wouldn’t. you can always catch up too..,”

y/n turned her head to look at him. “are you suggesting that you skip with me?”

“who said i was skipping??” the tall male grinned ear to ear as he watched her exasperate a sigh out.

“you cant tell me to skip and not have you skip with me!”

“fine.. i’ll skip with you.” jay sighed in defeat. “but we have to get the others to skip too!”

“deal! i was already texting dae!”

the two laughed before making a weird U-turn from their pathway.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

eventually, their plan to skip only turned into a library study session. and with such short timing, only a few were willing to do it — dae, min-su, ji-woo, and niki.

the rest were either still in class, at home already, or in some cases, asking their crush out.

so when it was just the six in one big table, everything was chaotically quiet.

y/n sat next to her three closest friends while jay and niki silently bickered here and there.

“i cant believe jungwon didn’t come, he’s usually always down for these study sessions.” niki snorted.

“well wonie wasn’t feeling it today so he just went home.” dae butted in, eyes staying glued to his laptop.

jay huffed out a sigh. “this is a little boring.. i thought we were gonna do something more fun when we skipped, y/n.”

“well, we have to catch up for the work we missed.”

“remind me to never skip with you again..,”

the group quietly laughed together as jay continued — “seriously, y/n, what was the point if we were going to do something like study?”

“i just didn’t want to listen to my professor talk,” she scowled.

“let’s go eat somewhere, at least!” the male frowned, eyes rolling at how much she was concentrating.

“i wouldn’t mind eating..,” niki chimed in.

“let’s go!” yelled ji-woo, getting everyone hyped up to leave.

y/n immediately jumped up from her cushioned seat with a beam — “okay! i just have to go pee first.”

“do you want us to wait for you?”

“no it’s fine, jay needs to get the car anyway so just come around the block and i’ll be here.”

a few debates on staying with the girl was made before she ultimately convinced jay to just let them go first.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

once y/n was finally done, she brought herself to the front of the library. as she stepped out, she finally heard the heavy rain drops pour from outside.

the campus was flooded with wet puddles and muddy sidewalks. she exaggerated a sigh as she covered herself with a hoodie.

“should’ve just had someone wait with me,” she mumbled under her breath.

the girl glanced back and forth, from left to right to ensure nothing was in her way, but once she did so, she completely hated the sight she came across.

a few ways down from her once-peripheral vision, y/n saw sunghoon and wonyoung wrapped around each other in a hug.

she immediately found it hard to breathe with how tight her heart began to clench onto every single ache. tears ran through her cheeks as she watched from afar.

the only thing that further confirmed his stated plans from earlier were the dim lights on campus — exhibiting how well hoon was wrapping his arms around her, how well they fit each other like puzzle pieces.

she bit her lips as she tried to swallow back another crying sob, but she just couldn’t help it.

y/n was watching her closest friend fall in love with someone else this entire time, and she’s always been able to somewhat sustain it. but now? now, he would actually be with wonyoung, instead of the girl who’s been in love with him since high school.

✩ ‘if only you knew what i felt like’ ✩

her breath hitched as every memory of her and hoon being potentially more flashed away in an instant. she’d always thought that maybe on some level, she’d get with sunghoon because of how well it went for all three of her close friends to find their special someone from being friends first.

but that little fragment of hope she had left for something possible was now crushed to a pulp.

✩ ‘some day, one day’ ✩

it wasn’t like the movies where the two friends realize their love for each other, and y/n knew that now. because if it was anything like that, hoon wouldn’t have been so excited to tell her everything that he knew about wonyoung.

he would’ve just confessed his feelings, and baam, happy ending.

but yet again, it wasn’t like the movies.

so she harshly wiped her tears away and though no one was around, she couldn’t help but be thankful for the heavy raindrops that blended her tears in with it. a half smile plastered across her face in revelation to that while sighing.

‘happy for you..,’ y/n thought to herself as she pulled out her phone.

✩ ‘i will stop falling in love with you’ ✩

beads of water from the rain plopped on her phone in a quick pace while she texted a family member — ‘can you come pick me up?’

she bit her lips before leaving to her shared group chat with her beloved friends.

y/n <33:

hey.. i just remembered that i have an exam next week so i have to study for it

go ahead and eat without me tho!! my brother’s already on his way so don’t worry abt any of that! :)

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

You have an exam??

Why didn’t you tell us!

Just come out anyway 🥰

hee’s fav 🤍:

yeah one day won’t hurt!

jake’s girl 🫂:

jay’s taking forever but yeah, just come y/n!

y/n’s eyes glistened when she felt another wave of emotions hit her. they didn’t even know she was going through such a thing, and it hurt that she couldn’t tell them yet.

y/n <33:

no it’s okayy, another time!

a buzz to her phone was made before she found her brother pulling up. she ran to the car with a shaky breath, and soon, they drove away from the heartbreaking sight.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when the girl got home, she immediately ran to her room and sobbed her eyes out. she broke down in a crying mess after holding it in in front of her brother.

tears streamed down her cheeks and snot filled her nose with every hiccup in her throat.

“i’m an idiot,” y/n grumbled in a scratchy whisper.

just then, her phone rang like crazy and she peeked over. her three friends were calling, most likely to call and talk like they do every night, but she couldn’t do it. not right now.

so she declined it, and a few other buzzed calls from them.

y/n ignored the flooding texts of concerns and playful frustrations before coming across a few from sunghoon.

hoonie 🤍:

You busy??

I have to tell you how it went, y/n

Text me back as soon as possible! I have such good news 🙂

her heart sank. of course he had good news, she was there to witness it. but she was a good friend after all.

✩ ‘until i do, i’ll be thinking of you’ ✩

y/n <33:

oh really?? what happened?

✩ ‘then of course i’ll let you break my heart again’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

593 notes · View notes

zhaobear · 4 months ago

Text

a perfect match

PAIRING : sung hanbin x fem reader

GENRES : fluff, crack, college au, barista au, mild enemies/rivals to lovers au, sick fic

WORD COUNT : 4310 words

SUMMARY : you and sung hanbin complement each other perfectly, whether it's behind the coffee bar or during late nights in your dorm building. however, companionship quickly turns to competition as the end of the year approaches — and with that, the glorious title of employee of the year. but when hanbin falls sick, you decide you can put your feud aside for one day.

WARNINGS : profanity, brief mentions of drinking, one slightly heated kiss, mc is competitive, hanbin is messing with her, jiwoong is just there, injeolmi toast reference, there are interspersed flashbacks in italics & one tense change!

AUTHOR'S NOTE : helloo making my zeroseblr debut!! thank you so much to anyone who reads i hope you enjoy <3 a huge huge thank you to @jayflrt and @s7toru for the support and encouragement, i don't think i'd be publishing this without them!

“HANBIN DIDN’T COME IN TODAY,” Jiwoong says in lieu of a greeting as soon as you enter the back of the store.

You flip through the café’s records book, noting down your time of arrival. Jiwoong can yap about Sung Hanbin all he wants, but you won’t let that stop you from getting paid.

“What does that have to do with me?” You shoot back, tying up your apron.

Jiwoong shrugs. “You guys are close, right? I thought you’d know what’s up.”

You scoff. You and Hanbin may have been close once, but that was before he started coming for your position.

“Keep it up, Hanbin!” Jiwoong claps Hanbin on the shoulder as he finishes taking a customer’s order. “Engaging with customers and making them feel connected to the store is one of our most important values.”

“Thanks, Jiwoong,” Hanbin beams, the sight of his dimples causing butterflies to take flight in your stomach, for whatever strange reason. That is, until Jiwoong’s next words.

“With how much improvement you’re making, you might just be up for Employee of the Year.” Jiwoong winks. Your jaw drops to the floor. Jiwoong doesn’t notice your mouth hanging open and simply returns to making drinks like he didn't just shatter your entire world.

“What the hell!” You call out indignantly. “Why would he get Employee of the Year?”

Jiwoong turns to look at you like he’s just remembering your presence for the first time.

“Well, Hanbin’s been learning very quickly since he joined. He’s made a lot of improvement and the customers love him.”

“He served a frozen sandwich the other day!” You cry out. You remember it clearly — the customer had approached you with a furious glint in her eyes, demanding to know why her sandwich wasn’t heated. Hanbin had popped up behind you to apologize for his mistake, and a blush immediately overtook her face as she shoved the sandwich into her mouth, claiming she preferred it frozen anyway.

“That was last week! I’m a changed man now,” Hanbin insists.

“The award should not go to him,” You splutter at Jiwoong. “I can talk to customers too!” You shove Hanbin away as the next customer in line approaches the register.

“Hi, could I please get an iced matcha latte, and a—”

“Hi, how was your day?” You interrupt loudly. Jiwoong slaps a hand to his mouth to stifle a poorly-contained laugh. The girl’s eyes go wide as she takes in your expression, her gaze flitting nervously between you and the door, like she’s considering bolting out of the shop.

“Sorry, don’t mind her. She means well,” a smooth voice interrupts. Hanbin slides back to his position on the register, his hand circling your waist as he gently eases you to the side.

You huff. “I can handle myself on register!”

Hanbin’s hand shifts to your lower back as he leans over to whisper to you. “You’re staring the poor girl down like she just murdered your family. I got this.”

True to his words, the girl visibly relaxes when Hanbin takes over and begins to make conversation. Your cheeks grow hot at the gesture. You should be angry, but Hanbin’s hand is warm on you and his shoulder is knocking into yours and you can’t seem to think straight.

Hanbin leans close again, and your brain short-circuits.

“I’m coming for your award,” he breathes cheekily into your ear.

The giddy feeling in your chest immediately dies on the spot.

You scowl at the memory, your knuckles turning white as you tie the strings of your apron tighter. Jiwoong raises an eyebrow, reminding you of his question.

“I’m not speaking to him anymore.” You have to hold back from crossing your arms like an angry child.

“You were fighting him over the register on Wednesday,” Jiwoong points out.

“A lot can change in three days.”

Jiwoong sighs. “Seriously, do you know what’s up? He hasn’t called or texted at all.”

That makes you pause. Ever since your current feud with Sung Hanbin, he became particularly more committed to “beating” you at work, whether it was clocking in earlier than you, going beyond the necessary opening requirements, or covering more shifts than usual. For him to not show up to work without any prior notice or explanation — maybe there is something wrong.

You relent. “I’ll go check up on him after my shift, okay?”

A Cheshire grin spreads across Jiwoong’s face. “So much extra effort,” he muses.

“We live in the same building,” you deadpan. You check your hair in the small mirror on the wall before heading to the front of the store for your shift.

“I didn’t even tell you to go check up on him!” Jiwoong calls to your back. You give him the finger in return.

“Hanbin, open up!” You yell, pounding on his door for what feels like the millionth time. You press your ear to the wood, but hear absolutely nothing.

“I can see your Snap location!”

Then, a rustle.

You hear the creak of a bed, and the sound of soft footsteps gradually approaching closer. The door swings open, revealing Sung Hanbin in his pajamas.

“You were in bed the whole time?” You shriek. “Jiwoong was worried sick! He was acting like you dropped off the face of the Earth when you didn’t contact anyone!”

Hanbin wordlessly turns around, making a beeline away from the door. You huff, following him inside his dorm without another thought.

“You’re just going to leave when I’m talking to you? Look, I get it if you don’t want to interact with me, but you shouldn’t ghost your manager. Isn’t that—”

Hanbin stumbles into the bathroom and slams the door shut on you. Realization dawns upon you when you hear retching from the other end. The puzzle pieces slot into place — his glazed eyes, paler-than-usual face, and complete lack of energy.

“Hanbin?” You ask, your voice softer than before. No response. “Do you need any help?”

“No,” Hanbin whispers faintly behind the door.

“Okay,” you respond uneasily, “but I’m staying here until you come out.”

You take his soft sigh as affirmation, and immediately pull out your phone to text his roommate.

you: wya??

taerae: staying w my aunt for the weekend taerae: why whats up?

you: hanbins sick

taerae: oh shit taerae: well. gl to him

you: 😭 you: do you have medicine

taerae: no 😂 taerae: wait actually taerae: check the bottom drawer on my desk

you: found it ty

You gather whatever medicines look helpful from Taerae’s drawer, then grab water from the fridge. Soon enough, you hear Hanbin moving behind the door, followed by the flush of the toilet and water running from the sink. He emerges from the bathroom, his face glistening with water droplets. He looks tired in a way you’ve never seen before as he trudges past you and collapses at the foot of his bed.

He groans softly at the hard surface, but makes no move to get up. You crouch down to the ground, pressing your hand against his forehead in concern.

“Hanbin,” you gasp. “You’re burning up.”

Hanbin makes a pitiful noise, shifting so he’s pressing his flushed cheek to the cold tile. You loop your arms through his and haul him to his feet.

“You missed the bed,” you try to joke, but even you can hear the terribly masked worry in your voice. Hanbin slumps onto the mattress, and you carefully pull the covers over him despite his small sounds of protest. He’s clearly not concerned enough to do anything more, so he mutters incoherent nonsense under his breath and then closes his eyes.

You can’t help the minuscule twitch of your lips at the sight, but you turn back to the medicine bottles before you can allow yourself to dwell on it.

Once you’ve arranged an assortment of pills and the water, you gently shake Hanbin, whose eyes are still shut.

“Sit up,” you urge, tapping his shoulder. Hanbin cracks open an eye, sulking. Regardless, he complies, sitting up and fully opening his eyes. “Take these.”

His frown deepens, but his gaze scans your face and he obeys without another word.

“How long have you been sick like this?”

Silence.

“When’s the last time you ate?” You try instead. Hanbin pauses, like he’s taking a moment to genuinely think about it, then shrugs blankly. “Hanbin, you have to eat!”

“Not hungry,” he mumbles.

“This isn’t up for debate,” you shoot back. “I’ll go grab you something, so stay here, okay?”

Hanbin nods, sinking back into bed. You shoulder your bag and search for his phone and keys, finding them on his desk.

“Here,” you say, tucking his phone under his pillow. “Call me if you need anything. I’m taking your keys so you don’t have to let me in. Take a nap, and I’ll be back soon.”

Hanbin only buries his face further into the pillow. You refill his water and adjust the room temperature before slipping on your shoes at the front. You helplessly turn back to look at him once more, like a compass straying north. Then, you leave.

When Sung Hanbin first walked into Say Yes! Coffee with a stunning resume and even more stunning smile, you recognized him instantly.

You had met Hanbin in the beginning of your sophomore year on a Thursday night, when the noise from the room above yours was becoming unbearable.

You had stormed up the stairs in your pajamas, too tired to care about appearances as you incessantly knocked on the door. When the door opened to a man clad in all black with an unnervingly handsome face, you faltered slightly. However, the sight of the dim lights and red solo cups behind him rekindled your anger, and you immediately began to tell him off.

He was holding a party on a Thursday night, for god’s sake, couldn’t he at least have waited until the weekend? As you continued on about the lack of consideration for those with Friday morning classes — however small the number may be — your voice got stuck in your throat when the man responded with a dazzling smile.

“Cute,” he had said, causing you to flinch in shock. He agreeably promised to keep the noise down, and with your face heating up from a mixture of embarrassment and surprise, you turned around and left without another word.

You didn’t see him again after that incident, but true to his word, the noise was considerably softer in the following parties. When you saw him again at your workplace, you weren’t even sure if he’d remember you.

However, Hanbin’s eyes had instantly lit up. “Pajama girl!” He’d exclaimed, and your smile dropped.

From then onwards, your relationship had taken a turn. Jiwoong began scheduling the two of you for almost every shift together, allowing you to witness every step of his journey — from training, to slowly taking over register, to becoming a pain in your ass. It almost made you sentimental, thinking about how much you’d gotten to see.

With the increased shifts came increased shenanigans during breaks, from ridiculous drink concoctions to espresso shot chugging competitions. Eventually, these were followed by unexpected knocks on your door and boba runs between classes.

Hanbin would let you into the dance studio, smirking at your reactions in the mirror whenever he caught you staring as he practiced. You allowed him to tag along on your trips to the library, even though he would use the soundproof study room to loudly poke fun at you while you would fret over your lab reports and problem sets.

Despite the vast differences in your majors, you still had the common denominator of a shared dorm building. This was clear every time Hanbin would knock on your door to drag you to his upstairs parties to expand your social circle, or when you would knock on his to deliver successful baking experiments.

In your second semester, he joined you in a General Education class that he absolutely did not need to take, and you started going to his open dance classes despite your severe lack of coordination.

So perhaps Jiwoong was right, maybe you were incredibly close — until the possibility of Hanbin winning Employee of the Year became real enough to scare you, until you decided it would be easier to hate him. (Was it Employee of the Year that you were afraid of, or something else?)

You reenter Hanbin’s dorm with a giant thermos of steaming hot soup, an extra blanket, and an assortment of items from the nearby drugstore. You dump the contents onto the table, wincing at the amount. You may have gone slightly crazy and swept nearly everything off the shelves at the pharmacy, but you convince yourself they’ll be necessary.

When you enter his room with the food, you’re surprised to find that he’s already awake. His brows furrow slightly at the sight of you.

“I brought you soup,” you explain, nodding at the bowl in your hands. “Eat.”

While the Hanbin 30 minutes ago was so sluggish he could barely keep his eyes open, this Hanbin is uncannily alert. His eyes dart back and forth between you, the soup, and the medicines scattered across his desk. He opens and closes his mouth, like he’s searching for the right words.

“Why’re you doing this?” A strange question to settle on, but you smile at him softly.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t understand,” he replies, his gaze wary.

You frown. “You’ve done the same for me. Remember when I got super drunk at Matthew’s and you brought me home?”

Hanbin goes silent.

Things like this between you and Hanbin are never questioned — they always go without saying. He threatens you at work, but he still picks you up when you drink too much. You fight him over the register, but you still sit next to him in class and watch him from the back of the dance studio. You’re still here, because you know Hanbin would be no different.

“You don’t owe me for that,” Hanbin blurts out, red creeping up his cheeks.

“I don’t think of it like that. I’m here because I want you to get better,” you say, holding out the bowl of soup to him. A peace offering.

Hanbin hesitates, then accepts it, blowing on it to cool it down and taking a sip. He hums in satisfaction, then shovels the rest down his throat within a minute. You gape.

“Slow down,” you scold, remembering the vomiting from earlier. You feel a pang of guilt realizing how hungry he must’ve been, motionless in his bed without the energy to eat.

Hanbin grows more lethargic on his second bowl, his eyelids beginning to sink. He catches himself just before he can allow himself to doze, and you frown. You can’t help but wonder why he’s fighting sleep when it’s what he needs the most — his half-lidded eyes stay focused on you, and then it hits you. Maybe he wants to be alone.

You take the bowl back and pull the covers over him, noting with a twinge of satisfaction that some color has returned to his face.

“I’ll clean things up and then head out so you can get some sleep,” you tell him. Although something deep inside you longs to stay, to stick with him until you’re sure that his fever is gone, you stand up from the chair.

However, Hanbin grabs your elbow before you can fully turn away. When you look at him, there’s a plea behind his eyes that he doesn’t seem keen on voicing. Even when he’s sick, he’s strong, tugging you back towards him until you’re sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Do you want more soup?” You ask, unsure of what he needs from you.

Hanbin shakes his head. “Stay,” he mumbles, so faint that you barely hear it.

Oh.

“Sleep,” you coax him gently, your heart squeezing at his request. “I won’t go anywhere.”

Hanbin searches your face with a hint of desperation, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sparkle in his eyes. (Did Sung Hanbin always look at you like you had hung the moon and stars?)

You don’t have to think about it for too long because Hanbin seems to find whatever he’s looking for in your expression and finally closes his eyes. Sleep pulls him under within minutes, evident in his deeper breathing and the loosened tension in his body.

You brush some of his hair away from his forehead, softening at the lines of his face, more youthful and relaxed with the rest.

In a few minutes, you know you’ll have to clean up, restock the fridge, and find a damp washcloth to reduce his temperature. But you allow yourself a moment to stare, brushing his thumb with your cheek.

Even while asleep, Hanbin leans into the touch, like a flower searching for sunlight, and you flinch. You return to your chair next to his bed and watch him until the sun rises, your heart a jumbled mess.

“Jiwoong.” Hanbin calls out one morning towards the end of his training, when the three of you are opening the store.

“Hmm?” Jiwoong shoots Hanbin a brief glance before going back to busying himself with the espresso machine.

“Why do you always schedule me and Y/N together?”

You turn at the mention of your name, perking up with curiosity. Jiwoong’s brows furrow, almost as though the answer is obvious.

“Y/N is efficient, in pretty much all ways possible. She can make the most drinks in the least time possible, without compromising quality. She’s also great at responding to unexpected situations,” Jiwoong explains. You grin at the compliment but stay silent, sensing he has more to say.

“Hanbin, you’re slower and sometimes you freeze up during mishaps. But you’re good with customers. You know enough about coffee to make recommendations. You’re perceptive, so you’re first to know when we need to restock. All of which Y/N tends to fall short on. Which is fine, of course, because neither of you is perfect.

“But what one of you lacks, the other one makes up. You’re imperfect separately, but a perfect match together.” Jiwoong puts a pause to his grandiose speech to fish for the keys in his pocket. “Anyways, I’m going to unlock the door now.”

You shoot Hanbin an incredulous look, despite the warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. Hanbin looks equally confused, but his gaze softens when you make eye contact. The smile he returns is so tender that you have to look away, your face burning like a star. You go back to wiping down the counters, and avoid thinking about Sung Hanbin and how incredibly red his ears were.

When Hanbin wakes up, you’re reminded of his training days from all those months ago, of his shy but earnest demeanor, unafraid to reveal his struggles and ask for help.

This Hanbin is similarly vulnerable, allowing himself to be open and show you weakness. Allowing you to help him.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Hanbin’s voice interrupts your thoughts, and you flush, shaking yourself out of your nostalgia. You press the back of your hand against his forehead, sighing in relief.

“Drink this, it’ll help," you say, avoiding his eyes as you hand him a glass of orange juice. “Your fever finally broke.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’m sweating balls,” he rasps, kicking off the blankets you’d piled on top of him. He chugs down the juice and rubs at his eyes. “What day is it?”

“It’s Sunday evening. You pretty much slept through the whole day,” you grin.

“Did you stay since yesterday?” A hint of guilt flashes across Hanbin’s face.

“It’s fine, I got some work done,” you wave it off, gesturing to your computer propped open on his desk. “Taerae’s gonna be back soon, so I’ll head out, okay? I texted Jiwoong for you, so you’re not working tomorrow. There’s some extra soup in the fridge, so heat that whenever you want.”

You start to gather your things, but Hanbin catches your wrist. His expression is abnormally serious, his eyes piercing holes into yours.

“What’s wrong? Do you need something?” You use your other hand to check his forehead again, but he stops you.

"I need you."

Your mouth falls open. “What?”

Hanbin quickly catches himself. "I need you — to drop this Employee of the Year thing. Jiwoong already told me he's giving it to you."

You're still stuck on the first three words of his sentence, but when the gears in your head finally turn you gasp. It's a lot to process and you shake your head, wondering if you even heard him right. How long were you fighting for an award that was already yours?

"I thought you wanted to win," is all you can think of saying.

Hanbin smiles, warm and soft in a way so familiar that your heart aches. “Y/N, I don’t care about Employee of the Year. Go out with me.”

You find yourself at a loss for words, but Hanbin doesn’t seem to mind as he continues.

“I know I still have a lot to learn, and I didn't even care about the award that much. I was mostly just teasing you, so can we please stop fighting over it? Or else I’ll seriously think you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you choke out.

Hanbin chuckles. “I figured that now. No one spends this much time and effort on someone they hate.”

“Shut up,” you say halfheartedly, your heart hammering in your chest. “Are you serious?” Hanbin tugs you by the hands, enough that you’re sitting on the edge of his bed. All traces of humor vanish from his face as he stares at you intently.

“Y/N, I like you. I thought you were cute ever since you showed up at my doorstep in your pajamas. And I’ve been hopelessly obsessed with you ever since we started working together. Does that answer your question?”

Fireworks explode in your chest as you think back to Jiwoong’s old words.

What one of you lacks, the other one makes up.

When Hanbin is sick, you take care of him. When Hanbin forgets to eat at the dance studio, you bring him food. And despite all your incessant fighting, Hanbin covers for you at the register. Hanbin invites you to parties when you’re cooped up in the library for too long. Hanbin sends you his notes when you doze off in class.

Your heart thumps in your chest as you begin to put together the little moments of your relationship. You were a perfect match the whole time, just as Jiwoong said, only you hadn’t truly realized the weight of his words. You itch with the need to do something, but your hands are still tightly grasped in Hanbin’s and you can’t think of much else to do than to lean down and press your lips to his cheek.

Hanbin makes a small noise of surprise at the contact, his hands slackening around yours. You flush at the warmth of his skin against your mouth, feeling as though you’re floating somewhere above the stars. When you pull away, Hanbin’s eyes are closed, lashes fanned against his cheekbones and face tilted upwards like he’s hoping for more, or savoring it. His eyes are glassy when they finally open, eliciting a giggle from your throat.

“I like you too,” you grin, “if that didn’t make it clear.”

Hanbin smiles then, so wide that you can see his whisker dimples. He pulls you down and on top of him, burying his face in your neck.

“Let me kiss you properly,” he whispers into your skin. You separate from him enough to read his expression, eyes widening at the sudden sharpness in his gaze. His eyes flicker between yours, before darting down to your lips and fixating on them.

“Won’t your mouth taste horrible?” You tease, but you’re already leaning in.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he murmurs against your lips before closing the distance.

A thousand firecrackers flare up in your body when his mouth meets yours. You gasp when his tongue slips into your mouth, leaving behind the pleasantly surprising taste of orange juice.

Sparks fly where his skin touches yours, multiplied by a thousand when he cradles your cheek and deepens the kiss. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, tugging lightly on his hair. The soft groan that emits from Hanbin causes a jolt of pleasure to shudder down your spine, and you instinctively tug harder.

You pull away far too soon to catch your breath, breath hitching at the string of saliva between both your lips.

“Gross,” you lie, but Hanbin’s eyes only darken.

“I wanna do that again.” He leans in again, but you veer away before you can allow your judgment to blur.

“You have to focus on getting better first!” You swat at his hands.

Hanbin pouts. “I’m way better. Stellar, actually.”

“You can kiss me in two days.”

Hanbin’s answering smile is blindingly bright, even though you didn’t say anything particularly funny.

“What is it?” Your pulse races at how he looks at you — like you’re made of every precious thing in the world, like you’re a dream made alive.

“I think this might be the happiest day of my life,” he answers. As he grins at you with the warmth of the entire sun, you realize the fluttering behind your ribcage was never a new feeling — you were just as enamored with him when you first met.

You smile back, bigger than you’ve ever smiled at Hanbin, watching his gaze turn awestruck as a red-hot blush creeps up his cheeks and neck.

“I think it might be mine too.”

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 8 months ago

Text

wildest dreams - m. murdock

a/n: i have literally not been inspired for two weeks then i was STRUCK with the urge to write this. guys. i am so proud of this one i am not even going to lie. this one is dedicated to @bunmurdock because i am literally always thinking about professor murdock.... i really hope you guys enjoy this one, because i enjoyed writing it :) warnings: SMUT! inappropriate dynamic, P in V smut, so much cursing, lots of inappropriate thoughts and pining, power dynamics, dirty talk, reader does an edible and is high for a small part of this fic, reader isn't stupid in this one! she is just horny! she is also deaf, and there is yapping of readers daddy issues word count: 6.3k likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 summary: you have a huge crush on your professor and spend many days desperate for him. pairing: professor!matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: wildest dreams - taylor swift (taylor's version) "i said, "no one has to know what we do"/his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room"

You could treat him better than any of these other horny grad students.

Seriously, that is your only conscious thought watching this man move around the front of this lecture center. You’re not dumb, you know everyone sitting here wants him—Those who are attracted to men want to fuck him and those who aren’t seek his approval. But you are built different, you’re also lacking a major sense, besides, your brain runs ramped with disgusting thoughts about the man.

Today’s focus is on the man’s outfit. It’s his last class of the day, and it shows. His clothes are a bit more wrinkled, and his hair is messier than it had been when he started the day. But most importantly, his jacket is thrown on the back of his chair, meaning you have a phenomenal view of his torso.

He wears a white button down, with the cuffs of the arms rolled up to just below his elbows, the bottom of the shirt tucked into the waistline of his pants. The shirt is tight, maybe a little too tight, especially around the arms. Maybe it’s because he works out. Or at least, you assume he works out.

That brings us to his tie. Oh, his tie. It’s nothing special—a pure black tie, just hanging from his neck. Your mind wanders. It starts at the dissection of a key court case in the subject of minimum wage, but from there, it starts drifting to his tie.

You think about the tie moving back and forth above you as he thrusts into you, brushing against your face, pulling on it to bring him closer. You think about that soft half chuckle he does, before he says something dirty like—

“Did you have something to add?” His voice right in front of you snaps you out of your trance. Fuck. You were not paying attention.

“Uh, No, Professor..” Your face is a deep red, embarrassed. You wish you could take off your hearing aids to stop listening to all the giggling from around you, from peers who are thrilled that Professor Murdock’s little (not-so) secret admirer got called out for her staring.

“Hm,” he taps the table in front of you, “Then I want you paying attention.” He says, before going back to his lecture. You could die right there. Everyone is laughing at you. He embarrassed you.

Okay, so you have no proof that he’s ever wanted you in the way that you’ve been so god damn desperate for him, but it’s still crushing that he’d single you out in that way. That maybe while you were increasingly needy for him, he found you fucking annoying, in such a way that he felt the need to embarrass you in front of your peers.

You want to melt—Melt into a puddle with just your boots and your hearing aids left behind so you never have to face him ever again. That’s why you’re so relieved when he dismisses class right on time (Well, right on time for him. He always ends class five minutes early to leave room for questions) and you quickly gather your things.

Because of the sheer level of embarrassment he has caused you, the other students in the class who want him try to flock to him, sensing that you no longer have the confidence to engage with him—But your desire is still there, as you messily shove your things into your backpack. You turn when you’re finished, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Your face is still flushed, part because you’re embarrassed, part because you are out of breath from rushing. But you are faced with the view of your professor, all alone. Your breath hitches when his hand moves up to the top of his tie, as he smooths it out, running his fingers down the fabric.

“I read your essay on the expectations of the courts and law versus the realities of it. I loved it. The argument using Gideon versus Wainwright to justify the existence of the right to counsel as a civil right and not a liberty was fascinating, especially considering your other arguments about how race, class and gender play into those realities. Well done. I thought it was some of your best work.”

Your face is flushed for a new reason now. Wasn’t this the same man who was mad at you for not paying attention?

“I thought so too.” You confess, and he just smiles. He loves that you’re confident in your work. You’ll make a great lawyer one day.

“Oh, and,” He digs through his leather satchel to pull out some notes, running his finger over the folder tab to make sure he has the right folder, “Here are the printed copy of our notes from the last few lectures.” It’s part of your accommodations that professors give you a copy.

“Thanks, Professor.” You smile gently, reaching out to take the papers. Your hands meet and as you grip the notes, the tips of your fingers just barely brush against his. Neither of you say anything. Neither of you let go.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today.” He starts, “But you’re bright—Smarter than most of your professors, I bet. And I don’t want you to fall behind.” He says softly, and without saying it, you know he’s worried because of your hearing. He was disabled in law school once upon a time, and he recognizes your potential.

“It’s okay.” You say softly, softer than your voice usually is. “I get it, really. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” He says gently, letting go of the papers now. As you clutch them close to your chest, his hand goes back up to mess with his tie again. Does he know what he’s doing? Does he know how wild it drives you? He must. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“See you on Thursday.” You agree, and that’s when you leave the classroom.

As the door closes behind you, he listens intently. He hears your nervous heartbeat, could practically feel the heat radiating off you. But he knows your routine by now. You’re about to start playing music, and he likes knowing what sort of mood you’re in as you leave his class.

A smile spreads across his face when he hears the opening notes of that new Hozier song, ‘Too Sweet’.

• • •

You are a straight A student. You study days in advance for exams, you write elaborate study guides and most of all, you do not miss class, unless you are dying (no, seriously, the last time you missed class you were rushed to the hospital, sick with pneumonia after a big exam, which you aced). So, when you’re not in Matt’s class on Thursday, he tries not to panic.

You’re a grown woman, he tells himself, and he doesn’t have an attendance policy, having told the class on syllabus day that he trusted them to know when to come to class and when they should go lay in the sun or stay home with a bad cold.

But you once came to class doped up on cold medicine with a mask on, just because you didn’t want to miss any important information. He heard it before you got to class, so he faked a family emergency to cancel class early that day. He could hear your rattled sigh of relief as the other students flooded out.

And he knows for a fact you didn’t show up today because of how fucking loud you are; You don’t mean to be, but he can hear the light buzzing of your hearing aids, and you wear these big work boots that stomp even when you’re trying to step lightly. And he heard neither buzzing nor stomps today.

Oh, your boots. He’s spent years with everything being too loud, but he just can’t help but think about the boots—What color were they? What were their texture? He has this fantasy that lives at the very back of his mind of putting you in heels, heels too big for anyone let alone a girl who only wears clunky work boots, that way he would have to help you, take care of you, and it is a fantasy that will probably live at the back of his mind until he dies.

Sure, he’d probably get married, settle down with someone his age and never worry if she might be dissatisfied with an older man, and she’ll be quiet. No hearing aids, no big boots. They’ll have kids, they’ll be happy together. He’ll still go to you when he can’t sleep, and no one will ever know.

Wait, what was he doing? Oh, right. You weren’t in class today.

His fingers move over the keyboard to look you up in the system. He clicks on the audio assistant to read him your information. It reads out your first and last name, middle initial, then your grade in his class (A+), your accommodations (Notes, time and a half, things like that), your birthday, and—

Wait, he takes a moment, and his fingers go over to his braille calendar, realizing that you’re taking a day off because it’s your birthday. A laugh escapes his lips, because how silly was he being?

His fingers move again to find your email address. He debates for a moment before adding the subject line, “Absence Today.” Then, he erases it and changes it to, “Class Today”, hoping you wouldn’t freak out before reading the email.

And just for a moment, he lets himself dream. He writes the following email to you,

“Hey, sweetheart—

Happy Birthday. I’m so happy you’re taking a break, you deserve it, more than anyone else I know. Are you doing something fun for it? Going out and getting wasted? Hooking up with some college guy who couldn’t fuck you properly?

If I could, my birthday gift to you would be a day spent with my face buried between your pretty thighs, although that might be a birthday gift to me and not to you. I’ve always been a selfish man, and you seem to be something I am entirely selfish about. I want your hands tangled in my hair, tugging on it as I taste you. I want you all to myself. I didn’t hear the buzzing of your hearing aids or the clunking of your boots, and I felt this striking yearning.

I can’t stand being around you without having you. It’s torture.

Happy Birthday,

Matthew.’

He thinks about it for a minute, before completely erasing the email, and sending you this one instead:

‘Missed you in class today! We went over the reading for Chapter Seven. Happy Birthday! Professor M’

He sends it, and then rubs his face, a long sigh leaving his lips. He is completely enamored by you, and it is so unfair. You’d be in class on Monday, he told himself. He’d see you then, and it would be like getting his fix of you.

Then, he turns to the distraction of trying to grade papers. It won’t work. He’ll still have you on his mind all day, and there will be no relief in sleeping. Hopefully he’ll dream of that long day between your thighs.

• • •

Truth be told, you were not drinking and fucking some random guy when Matt emails you. You were cuddled up in bed, giggling and eating snacks, so many snacks, because, well, you took an edible with a bunch of your friends and now are high out of your mind.

Some animated shows are on in the background, and when your phone buzzes, you pick it up and almost melt when you see the email from your favorite professor. You start giggling like a kid, your fingers clutching your phone as you read the email over and over again.

One friend looks up to you from her place on your floor and asks, “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer at first, but then you nod, and pull your blanket close, imagining Matt’s arms around you. Your brain paints you a picture of him holding you against his chest and gently playing with your hair.

It’s a nice fantasy.

• • •

For being a law student, you really fucking hate it sometimes. Okay, that’s not true. You love being a law student and are so excited to go out into the world and make that difference. But you’d be lying if you don’t sort of contemplate dropping out and getting a sugar daddy over certain assignments.

Maybe Matt is in the market. Then you shake your head to get the thought out of there, before opening your laptop to check your professor’s office hours. The one that assigned this assignment is an old bat who does not have office hours except for during your other classes on Fridays.

Then, you look at Matt’s office hours. He has office hours right now. You click the pen in your hand a few times, thinking. Contemplating. Would he want to see you at this point? Would you be able to control yourself?

You give the question you’re working on one more time before you lean down and grab your boots, starting to lace them up. Then, you pack up your bag, heart beating nervously over what—Asking him for help with an assignment?

You make it all the way across campus, the whole time worried about if you’ll walk in on your professor with some other girl. You almost laugh at that thought, because you think you’re silly for how dramatic you are about the man.

You stand down the hallway from his office for a few minutes, just contemplating. You could just turn around and not at all open the possibility of being around him, and everything stays the same. Nothing changes, and your relationship with your professor maintains it’s strictly professional relationship.

You walk towards the door, knocking on it before holding your breath.

“Come on in,” He calls from behind the door. Now or never. You open the door, and smile in his direction.

“Hey, professor,” You greet, a soft smile on your face. His tie is loose around his neck. You blink away whatever daydream your brain wants to dive headfirst into.

“Hey,” He greets, “I don’t think you have any assignments due, so what’s up?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. As you think about it, you realize that you do not need help with an assignment.

“This is going to sound like a lie. But I had trouble with this assignment earlier, and suddenly I walked in here and realized I knew exactly what I was doing. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You explain, but you make no attempt to turn around and leave.

“Let me guess,” He starts, gauging by what year and academic proficiency you’re at, “Professor Reid’s estate planning class? That assignment about the will and testament of an old lady with a marriage less than 90 days and estranged kids?”

You groan and take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. He laughs in response, shaking his head.

“That old bat.” You roll your eyes. He just smiles and shakes his head.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to cheat on your final.” He tells you, and you give him a perplexed look.

“What?”

“Well, for the final, there’ll be a question about a super niche argument on inheritance. Just cheat on it.”

“You’re a professor, telling me to cheat?”

“I cheated on it,” He shrugs. You suddenly remember that he used to go to school here and has taken all the classes you’re struggling with right now.

“You’re being unprofessional.” You tell him, and he smiles again. Your heart skips a beat, and somehow, his smile grows. As if he knows exactly what sort of effect he has on you. As if this is all a game he likes to play with you, his eager and willing participant.

“Okay, forget that I told you to cheat on Reid’s exam. We have to talk about something, it would be awkward to just sit here in silence. Uh, what did you major in in undergrad?”

“English. I minored in Disability studies.”

“So why Law?” He asks curiously, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, before resting them on his desk. Jesus Christ.

“I’m tired of being poor.” The answer slips out before you can really stop yourself. He laughs again, and something in you stirs. As if making him laugh is the newest way you feel good about yourself. How twisted is that? “I’m being serious!” You laugh too, unable to contain it.

“I’m sure,” he promises, “I grew up poor too, I was sick of it too. But if you’re going to be a lawyer—”

“You need to have respect for the law and the people taken advantage by it,” You finish, “I get that, really, I do. And I want to help people. I want to go into divorce law and help all the poor and battered women like—” You’re forgetting yourself. You’re forgetting that this isn’t a date and that this man is your professor.

“Like..?” He prods you to finish, curious. He is on the edge of his seat about you. This is more than he has gotten of you in the past few weeks you’ve been taking his class.

“Like my mom.” You finish suddenly looking for something to do with your hands. Anything, really. “But the check that comes with it isn’t exactly deterring me, you know?”

“I get that,” he says earnestly, “I was an orphan, one of those dirty scrappy ones you feel bad for,” he does that half chuckle that makes you want to go over there and kiss him. “Never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was young. So, I get it. Being poor and wanting to do better for yourself. For your parent who sacrificed for you.”

But it clicks for him, the hidden meaning behind your ambitions. You have daddy issues, and he can tell that’s part of your crush on him. Though, he’ll never say it to you. He’ll let it be something unspoken between the two of you.

“Yeah, I guess you do get it.” You smile softly. But this is dangerous. So so dangerous. The two of you are dancing this dangerous line—Well, more like you’re damn well dancing clear over the line and ignoring it. But you don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you don’t want to stop it.

“Well, uh, maybe you could finish that assignment while we’re here.” He clears his throat, straightening his tie and you try to connect the wires in your brain to focus on the assignment. You pull it out of your bag and place it on his desk, smoothing it out a bit. Matt gets up and starts to wander around the office, and you look at him curiously. “I think better when I can move around.”

You should’ve known that much, you have stared at him doing lectures, wandering from end to end of the rows and rows in the classroom.

“Yeah, totally,” You nod, focusing on the assignment. It’s on paper, the old bat refuses to use online assignments. You’re practically flying through the assignment, and it’s at the point where you are forgetting your company. In fact, you really don’t notice him.. Until you lean back and stretch, jumping when you realize that Matt has taken a spot right behind you, his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward. You’re practically leant up against him.

“See? Was that so hard?” Your face flushes, his voice right next to your ear. He has to know; he has to know how you’re affecting him. You tilt your head a bit, and your eyes are level with his chin. His stubble moves as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t smell much like anything… except the faintest hint of clean sheets and this slight scent of mahogany. It would go perfect with a whiff of whiskey.

“No,” you say quietly, and he almost shudders at the feeling of your warm breath against his cheek. “Not at all, Prof—”

“Call me Matt.” It’s almost begging. You’re kind of into it, but that’s not surprising given how incredibly attractive you find him.

“Okay.” You say quietly. He has reduced you to one-word answers. The two of you stay quiet for a while. You’re unsure what to say. Matt is contemplating his options. Anyone could walk in on the two of you like this. The door isn’t locked, and you want to bring this up, but the words die out in your throat. His head tilts a bit towards you, and you get a glimpse at those perfect lips of his.

“You know—” He starts, but before he can get any farther, you lean in and kiss him. You kiss him intensely, your hand on his cheek, and for once, you are not filled with regret at a bad decision. He doesn’t react at first, and for just a second, you’re nervous.

Then, He kisses you back, letting out this deep hum as he deepens the kiss. He tilts his head to get deeper into your mouth, and his hands make their way down to your hips. He focuses for a second, before wrapping his arms around you to pick you up and sitting you on his desk.

His hands trail down as the pair of you kiss, landing on your thighs. His fingers rub back and forth, and you gasp when he squeezes your thighs. He grins and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your clunky boots hit against his desk and he practically growls at the sound. He pulls away, his teeth biting your bottom lip as he does.

You’re completely out of breath, and so is he. He stumbles back a bit, his lips swollen and bright pink from kissing you. He wipes his mouth as he pants, and inhales deeply. You run your fingers through your hair, brushing the hair that has fallen onto your face.

“We..” he mumbled gently, running his hand over his chin. “Holy shit, kid—”

“Don’t call me kid—”

“Listen,” he goes over to you and brushes the hair from your face, “That was.. it was phenomenal, but someone could’ve walked in on that, and.. Fuck, if we do that again, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” he confesses, his hands on your cheeks.

“When I was staring off into space last week, I was thinking about your tie.” You tell him, your hands are finding the base of it now. He tilts his head, curiously.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Was daydreaming about it brushing against my face as you fuck me.” You could swear his face is red. You grin.

“Yeah?” He laughs, taking the tie from you and bringing the tie up to brush against your cheeks, “Like that?” he teases, and you laugh back. Dick.

“Mhm,” You giggle, and your hands find his, wrangling the tie out of his hands, and tugging on it, before bringing him in for another kiss. He inhales deeply as he kisses you, taking the taste of you in for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m serious, sweetheart, this is dangerous.”

“Sweetheart?” You grin. He takes your chin and grips it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hey. Pay attention.” He says, and you want to argue that saying things in that low gravely tone will not help you pay attention, but you can tell he’s serious. That he wants your attention focused on him, this is important. “Listen. I like you. I like you a lot, but we have to be careful if we want any of this to go further. We have to be subtle and watch our steps.” He says softly.

“Okay.” You promise, “Okay, we should be careful.” He smiles gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Good pup.” He hums, and your face flushes.

“I like ‘pup’.” You like sweetheart too, but your stomach flips when he calls you pup.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He grins. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you said we have to be careful.”

“Okay, then I’ll give you my address and you can come over.” He shrugs. “I know how badly I need you, I can only imagine how you feel.” He hums, and you grin.

“Okay, Here, give me your phone.” Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. You put your number in with your name, sending yourself a quick text before handing the phone back to him. “There. Send it to me.” He steps back so you can hop off the desk, before putting your homework back in your bag.

As you sling your bag over your shoulder, he grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you close, just to kiss you again.

• • •

Your hands are shaking as you drive over to Matt’s apartment. You’re so full of desire for him, and you take a second after parking the car to adjust your hair and makeup. Luckily you had no plans with your friends so it’s not like you’re hiding anything from anyone.

Are you about to sleep with the professor you’ve had a crush on since the beginning of the semester? Hopefully. You take a quick glance down to the apartment number he sent you before climbing out of the car, locking it behind you.

Then, you manage your way through the building, finding yourself in front of his door for the second time tonight. You hesitate. Though, you’re not sure why. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you’re terrified that this is going to be bad. Or maybe that you’re scared you’ll be bad, and he’ll hate you.

Maybe you just need to get over yourself. Although, you can’t really do much more convincing because Matt swings open the door and grins at you. You almost die at the sight of him. His tie is gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned by three buttons.

“You’re so hot,” You blurt out as you hand him a cheap bottle of wine you picked up on the way here.

“You’re cute,” he hums, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the apartment, leaving you giggling as he closes the door behind you. You look around his apartment, your eyes catching on the giant billboard. You’re standing in front of the window when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips gently kiss your neck, up and down, biting your shoulder gently. “Enamored by the billboard, sweetheart?”

“Your windows are so big, probably a lot of light in here during the day.” You say softly, and he smiles against your neck.

“Mhm, one day, I’ll fuck you against those windows—”

“Matt,” You groan, but he just shushes you and kisses your neck again.

“I know, pup,” He hums, “But don’t worry, I’ll show you a very nice time, hear all those pretty noises you can make for me.” You blush, turning to say something to him but he wraps his arms around your waist again, before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to his room. You’re laughing all the way there, before throwing you onto the bed.

“Mean.” You accuse, but he shrugs.

“You’ll get over it, sweetheart, I promise.” He hums, and you sit up on his bed. He stands between your legs, leaning down to kiss you gently, his hands finding your cheeks again. He kisses you like this for a few minutes, before slowly kneeling in front of you, never breaking the increasingly sloppy kiss. You pull away from the kiss to study him. He tilts his head, his hands finding your thighs to rub them again as he did in the office. “What?” he asks gently.

“I spent all those lectures only being able to study you from a far.. Just let me really look at you for a while..” You request. He grins gently as your fingers run over his stubble again. Your hands move up to his glasses. “Can I take these off?” You request, tilting your head.

Matt hesitates, just for a second. He’s not really used to it, to someone truly wanting to see him, every part of him. But he trusts you, wants you to see him. So he nods, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ as you pull off those circular red glasses, gently folding them and setting them down somewhere safe.

Then, you take a good, long look at his eyes. They’re this deep brown, almost black, irises that are drop dead gorgeous. The skin around his eyes is scarred, but the scars are old, yet, you rub your thumb gently against that scarred skin. You lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his eyes, first the left one, then the right one.

He leans up and kisses you after that, his hands slowly making their way down your legs. Your hands find his buttons of his shirt starting to undo them. He pulls away from the kiss, before slipping off his button up, throwing it away somewhere in the room. Your eyes drift down to these scars on his collarbones, and your fingers run over them. Then, you notice other scars on his skin, and your hands find those too.

“Your boots are so loud,” he hums, and you’re taken back by it.

“What?”

“Your boots.” He hums, “I hear you stomping around with these things on, they’re.. Like a bell, you know? I like knowing you’re around.” His fingers go down to the laces of your left boot, slowly untying them. Then, he does the same with the right boot.

He pulls off your boots, before running his fingers over your socks.

“They’re multicolored. Bright and patterned.” You confess, and he grins, before pulling them off. Then, he stops, realizing you have another pair of socks on. He blinks, before starting to laugh.

“You have two pairs of socks on?” he chuckles, your face flushing.

“My boots are just a little too big!” You tell him, and he laughs, resting his head against your thigh. He finishes taking your socks off, before working on the buttons of your jeans. When he finally gets those undone, he pulls off your pants, throwing them somewhere close to his now abandoned shirt. His hand comes up to rub you through your panties, and he lets out a scoff as he does.

“So wet for me, pup..” He mumbles, coming up to gently kiss your cheeks and then your jaw, as you whine. “I know, baby, I know,” he says softly, rubbing your clit gently. You whine gently at the feeling, gripping his wrist. He chuckles softly, kissing you to shut you up a bit.

He pulls his hand away from your throbbing cunt to pull off your tee shirt, throwing it wherever. He starts to kiss you as you fiddle with the buttons of his pants and pull them off, letting him step out of the before he casts them away.

You grin into the kiss, before he pulls away.

“What? What’s got you so giddy, pup?” he asks, a grin on his face too.

“Briefs,” You hum, fiddling with the waistband of his briefs, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Thinking about your professor’s underwear?” He teases, leaning in to bite your neck. “Dirty, dirty girl.” He grins, and you swat at his shoulder, which causes him to laugh. He likes having fun with you, even if it’s not inherently sexual.

His hands come up to run gently over your skin, trailing from your hands up to your shoulders, and then all the way to your ears, where his fingers gently run over your hearing aids. It’s a nice gesture, really, but as soon as his fingers brush over your hearing aids, you immediately retract, the feedback shooting through your skull, uncomfortably.

“Ow—” You cringe, leaning your head back to try and get away from his fingers. He cringes, hearing the feedback, not as badly as you do but knowing it’s there and that you’re in pain pains him.

“I’m sorry,” he coos softly, his fingers moving down to cup your jaw. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I hadn’t realized—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” You hum, tilting your head to kiss his palm gently. “It happens, It’s why you should never touch them while I have them on.” You shrug. He leans down and kisses your stomach a bit, before going back to kiss you again, deepening the kiss a bit before roughly shoving you back on the bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his legs, as he slips his tongue into your mouth again. He kisses you with passion and need, and it drives you entirely too wild. As he pulls away, one hand comes up to grip your chin, before he leans down with his head against yours.

“Want me to fuck you, pretty thing?” He asks gently, his voice sweet as honey as he talks so obscenely to you. You whine, finally getting what you want after weeks and months of waiting. He just smiles and shakes his head, “No, no, puppy, you gotta say it to me.” He requests.

“Yes, I want you..” You groan, bucking your hips a bit at the thought of him finally fucking you.

“Want me to do what?” he asks, innocently.

“Want you to fuck me, please..” You request, and this finally seems to satisfy him. His hand comes down to unhook your bra, throwing it behind him with the rest of your clothes, before his lips begin to travel downwards, kissing down your jaw and neck, before he’s kissing the valley of your breasts, his hand going down to rub your clit again.

He groans against your skin at the feeling of your wetness soaking through your underwear and listening to your moans. His hands begin to work to take off your panties, and as soon as those are gone, your hands come up to his briefs, wanting them gone.

“Off, off, off—” You huff, and he laughs as he slips them off. Then, he reaches over and grabs a condom from the bedside table, but you grab his hand, shaking your head, “No, no—I’m on the pill, promise.”

“You sure?” He asks gently, and you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Sure.” You nod, and then you’re kissing him again, your hand going down to stroke his cock, and he gasps into the kiss, before chuckling. He pulls away to mutter out to you--

“Needy girl,” he purrs, before moving to kiss you again. As you’re kissing, he slips his cock into you, and you moan into the kiss, tensing at the feeling, “Relax for me, pup.. So fucking tight for me.” He groans, his hand coming down to swat your thigh. “Relax.” He tells you, his voice sterner this time.

You nod, trying to form a more conscious thought than the pure bliss you feel, your hands wrapping around his neck, scratching down his back a bit. He groans softly, as he starts to slowly thrust into you. He is using every ounce of self-control he has, resisting the urge to absolutely violate you.

But he’s trying to be gentle, be nice.

“Faster,” You gasp out, your fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He does that half chuckle, and it makes you whine as he begins to speed up.

“Beautiful little pup..” he says lowly, “Been staring at me.. Wanting your professor so badly these past few weeks, dirty little thing,” he hums, “Fuck, so.. fuck..” Your legs are beginning to shake the longer and harder he thrusts into you. “So fucking good for me..” You whine into his lips as they crash into yours, one hand going down to rub your clit gently, the stimulation too much for someone who hasn’t had sex this good, ever, but especially because you haven’t had sex at all in the past.. well, six or more months.

“Matty, ‘m..” You can barely get the words out as he fucks you harder,

“I know baby, come on, cum for me, pup,” he coos, his thrusts nor rubbing slowing down, maintaining his pace. Within a minute, you’re coming with loud moans into his ears, and he’s following suit shortly after, coming deep inside you.

But for the few minutes after the two of you finish, he continues his thrusting, relishing in the pretty moans and the sound of his deep thrusts into you. Eventually, he slows down, remaining deep inside of you. He pulls you close, kissing you deeply before flipping the pair of you over, and holding your legs close to stay buried deep inside of you.

For a few minutes, there are no words spoken, just deep, frantic pants and sweaty skin against each other.

“You know, that was as good as I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.” You pant, “Better, even..” He laughs and nods.

“Me too..” he kisses you softly. “Let me take you out somewhere.”

“I thought we had to be careful..”

“We’ll go away somewhere then. Just the two of us for the weekend. I need to be with you, I can’t get enough of you now that I’ve had a taste.. Besides, I haven’t even eaten you out. Now that, that is going to be fun.” He grins, and you swat his arm.

“Evil, mean man!” You gasp, and he just laughs, kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry, pup, let me make it up to you,” he hums.

“How?”

“Calling you pup a few times, ordering Thai food and teaching you how to suck me off?”

“I know how to suck you off,” You scoff.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, leaning in to kiss him. Then, lips still against yours, he whispers, “Prove it, pretty puppy.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x hoh!reader #professor!matt murdock #daredevil smut #matthew murdock #smut

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mysteryshoptls · 7 months ago

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SR Azul Ashengrotto - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Master Chef"

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Azul Version ～Let's Make Rice Croquette 1～

Ghost Chef: Alright, today we'll have you make "rice croquettes."

Azul: Rice croquettes, hm. The ristorante my mother manages serves them, so I have tasted them before.

Azul: If I recall, the crisp shell on the outside and the soft risotto on the inside, as well as the different possible combinations of ingredients within it, make for a fantastic dish.

Ghost Chef: Your family runs a ristorante? Then you must be very knowledgeable in the kitchen. This course may be too easy for you.

Azul: Oh no, not at all. I appreciate all the guidance and encouragement you can give me.

Ghost Chef: Come now～ Don't be so modest! Alright, time to start cooking.

Ghost Chef: First, you'll make the risotto. Mince the onion and fry it in the pan.

Azul: Mince the onion, right. …Just in case, I will go over the proper procedure once. Could I ask you to confirm if what I say is correct?

Ghost Chef: Absolutely. It's good that you don't try to breeze past the basics.

Azul: After cutting the onion in half lengthwise, place the cross-section face down on the board. While leaving the root intact, make cuts at even intervals from the edge to the center.

Azul: Then, turn that onion 90 degrees and cut perpendicular to the previously made cuts… Does that sound correct?

Ghost Chef: Yep, that's perfect. Make sure to cut them in 3 to 4mm intervals so they're big enough to taste and use for forming the balls.

Azul: Understood. Now then, I hold the knife in my dominant hand, hold the onion with my other hand, and slice with the knife vertically…

[slip! roll…]

Azul: …Pardon me. It seems I didn't have a tight grip on it.

Azul: …Now then, I'll try that once more―

[slip! roll…]

Ghost Chef/Azul: …

Ghost Chef: Uhhh… Azul-kun, by any chance… Do you not have much experience in cooking?

Azul: That's correct. I am hoping to improve myself in this regard slightly through this Master Chef curriculum.

Ghost Chef: So, when you said you'd appreciate my guidance and encouragement, you really meant it!?

Azul: Indeed. Is something the matter?

Ghost Chef: You were carrying yourself with the confidence of a seasoned chef… So I completely assumed you were already skilled in the art of cooking.

Azul: I am able to discern the difference between something tasting good or bad, but cooking is outside of my wheelhouse.

Azul: And thus, I enrolled in Master Chef, as I believed that since this course is geared towards those unfamiliar with cooking, it would be a perfect way to start gaining experience.

Ghost Chef: I see… I find your approach commendable, Azul-kun. You're completely different from the owner of the restaurant I worked at back when I was alive!

Azul: The owner of the restaurant from when you were alive? …Could you perhaps elaborate a little more on them?

Ghost Chef: That owner couldn't cook anything at all, but would always find something to complain about my dishes.

Ghost Chef: Every time they tried to lecture me, I'd fume and think, "They're all talk, they don't know a thing about the amount of effort I had to put into this!"

Azul: …I think I understand. Just the other day, one of the staff members of the Mostro Lounge said something similar to me.

Azul: Something along the lines of… "MAAAN, AZUL, ALL YOU DO IS YAP YAP YAP EVEN THOUGH YOU DON'T KNOW SQUAT 'BOUT COOKING～"

Ghost Chef: Is that so? Then… Is that the reason why you decided to try to gain cooking experience?

Azul: Indeed. Although, I wouldn't say I'm quite so immature as to take such an emotional outburst that seriously…

Azul: But I find it vexing to even be told such a thing, so if someone believes I lack experience, then I should work at it to mitigate that. Thus, I've come here.

Ghost Chef: Good for you, Azul-kun, listening to what your staff has to say and putting yourself in their shoes.

Ghost Chef: Hearing that situation, I'll make sure to do my best and explain everything to you from a chef's point of view.

Azul: I can't possibly imagine that there would be any similarities in the point of view between the temperamental guy from my dorm and a chef that worked at a five-star restaurant…

Azul: But this should surely be a good experience. I am fully open to your instruction.

Ghost Chef: Sure! If you ever have any questions, you're always free to ask me anything.

Azul: Thank you.

[sizzle, sizzle…]

Ghost Chef: Looks like the onions are cooked. Time to add the rice into the frying pan.

Azul: Understood.

[rice pours into the pan]

Ghost Chef: If you stir too much, you can damage the rice. The key here is to gently cook it over low heat.

Azul: Chef, what constitutes low heat?

Ghost Chef: You'll want to set it to about where the tips of the flames aren't touching the bottom of the pan.

Azul: I see. I'll lower the heat slightly, then.

[click…]

Azul: Perfect. Now I just need to stir the wooden spatula slowly so the rice doesn’t get dama… HUH!?

[cracking sounds]

Azul: In the short amount of time that I took to adjust the heat, the rice started sticking to the pan…!

Azul: If I were to try to forcibly peel it off, the rice could be damaged and there is a risk that the quality of the dish would be lowered.

Azul: However, if I were to factor in the cost of the ingredients and the time until judging, I won't be able to remake this from scratch…

Azul: Chef, is there a way to recover my progress when the rice has stuck to the frying pan?

Ghost Chef: Yep. Just add a bit of the bouillon we were going to add later, and slowly peel it with your spatula.

[sizzle!]

Azul: It came off so cleanly…! Even in the face of a mistake, you can quickly turn things around… As expected of a pro chef.

Ghost Chef: Ahaha, you must be exaggerating! Although I can't say I dislike your compliment.

Azul: Not at all, this was very eye-opening for me. Please, let us continue.

[Kitchen]

Master Chef―Azul Version ～Let's Make Rice Croquette 2～

Ghost Chef: ―While the risotto cools, why don't you select what you want to put inside the croquettes?

Ghost Chef: Just like you said earlier, part of this dish's fun is the different combinations of texture and flavor that can be made from the chosen ingredients.

Azul: I can absolutely do that. Fufu… I should be more capable of this process.

Azul: For this dish, there will be 3 croquettes on 1 plate. …With that in mind, I would want to create some kind of theme to bring them together.

Azul: My chosen theme will be… "A Subtle Surprise."

Azul: The risotto has a simple tomato-based flavor… Therefore, with these standard ingredients, the results could go either way.

Azul: I'll have to weave everything together and consider good texture, how fulfilling it is, and that hint of surprise― All while not deviating from the recipe…

Azul: …Alright, I'LL GO WITH THESE!

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Silver: …Something smells good.

Silver: I do hope I can live up to what's expected of a Master Chef judge…

Azul: Pardon me. I have brought your dish... Oh, I see, so the person who ordered this was Silver-san.

Silver: So, you're the chef, Azul? I'm looking forward to tasting it.

Azul: I, too, look forward to your tasting it. Here are the rice croquettes that you've ordered.

Azul: These have just finished cooking, so the insides will be hot. Please take caution when eating them.

Silver: Got it. Then… I'll try them now.

Silver: [blows on croquette]

[bite, chew, chew…]

Silver: Oh… There's cheese inside of this one. Delicious.

Silver: This one… There's shrimp. This is also delicious.

Silver: Finally, the third one… I see it has quail egg inside. Right, all three were delicious.

Azul: …Huh, are those your only thoughts?

Silver: Yes. It's was very good.

Azul: Please think a little harder. Isn't there anything else, like comments on specific ingredients you liked, or certain surprising flavors?

Silver: Specific ingredients I liked…? That would be the quail egg.

Silver: It was nice to see the meal I chose was not only filling, but filled with highly nutritional eggs.

Azul: YOUR MAIN TAKEAWAY WAS HOW FILLING IT WAS!? …Ahem, pardon.

Azul: Perhaps I should ask this differently. How did it taste?

Azul: The first one you tried was filled with cheese. I mixed basil into it to help its compatibility with the tomato-based risotto.

Azul: For the shrimp one, I added fried garlic chips to it to give it a little flavorful kick.

Azul: Finally, the boiled quail eggs. I flavored it with a tad bit of ketchup to add a bit of extra favor.

Azul: With that added moisture, it should have softened the flakiness egg yolk slightly, and make for a more enjoyable flavor…

Silver: I see, you put a lot of thought into it.

Silver: Even after your explanation, I still don't really get it at all, but everything truly was delicious.

Azul: YOU DIDN'T GET IT AT ALL!? That's absurd…

Azul: If the judge himself doesn't understand, then all of the extra efforts and ingredients that I put forth into it will have all been for naught!

Ghost Chef: Come now, Silver-kun is saying it's delicious, so I don't think it was all for naught at all.

Azul: However, if my efforts truly couldn't be conveyed… Did I not use enough basil, garlic, or ketchup?

Ghost Chef: I feel like you wouldn't want to put too much in it, either… It can be difficult because everyone's tastes are different.

Silver: My apologies. Perhaps if your judge had been anyone else, they would have been able to fully taste the efforts you put into it the flavor.

Ghost Chef: But you thought it was delicious, right, Silver-kun? That means that Azul-kun's flavoring was still spot on.

Azul: Right… That's right. Putting aside any improvements needed for the cost in time and ingredients, I was able to actually put together a dish that someone considered delicious.

Azul: If I can keep improving my cooking skills little by little, then I won't ever have to hear someone say I'm just "yapping" ever again!

Ghost Chef: Ahaha… Even though you said you wouldn't take something like that seriously… Looks like those words really did have a hold on you.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #silver #twst azul #twst silver #twst translation #twst masterchef

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strawberryshortcake0413 · 5 months ago

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Angry man

Re2 leon x f!reader

You were raised by an angry man. Now you are the angry man. How would it change the relationship of you and Leon?

Full of yapping

Word count:1375

Working in the police station as a people pleaser was never your plan. Being the eldest daughter of your parents, a sister, and someone for your younger siblings to look up to you pressured you to become a cop.

After all, taking care of your siblings alongside your religious mother and strict father who was rapidly aging was your responsibility. A responsibility that you meant to carry, even if you didn't want to.

A decade ago, your 14-year-old self wanted to be a baker. Unfortunately for you, the man in the house you lived in threatened to kick you out if you became an useless part of society that served people.

With your fear of the man you call your father, the judgment from your mother, and the clueless endless demands of your siblings, you surprisingly did well in high school and managed to get into the academy.

Having a few close friends, and no partner in the academy was maybe the key to your success in the profession you didn't want. An achievement that mattered almost nothing to you. Except for the fancy uniform and nice coworkers (except Jack), your life is boring.

Who wants to spend their 20s sitting behind a desk, writing reports for your bosses all day, every day? Well, at least not you.

Today seemed to be pretty "normal" like every other day, till Jack walked up to your desk with a smug smirk on his face. The man was in his late 20's, with red hair and grey eyes with not so bad face. But all those traits are wasted on his asshole personality. Ever since you started working here a few years ago, being peaceful without his sexist, snarky comments was impossible. The two of you always managed to argue in a way most parents would cover their kids' ears if they passed by.

"Well well well... Y/n, look at you. Sitting behind your desk like a good girl you are. Even getting the rare chance to have a puppy following you around the station.." he signed heavily, failing to hide his smirk.

"What do you want Terrance??" You snapped at him.

"Woah woah. Calm down, grandma. Chief is calling you. You have a newbie to train" Jack said grabbing your name tag. As you stood up to the left, you managed to hit his hand.

Jack Terrance was another reason why you should quit. The ashhole of the station targeted you like he could target his gun properly.

Standing in front of the chief, you found a blonde guy standing behind you. Observing his body language, it was clear he was nervous. Maybe a little clumsy.

"Sir, I heard you called me in," you said in an emotionless tone, the one you always used at work. It's not like you have any other tone anyway.

"Y/L/N, as a young inspiring lady who knows what you are doing, I'm hoping you could introduce the station and help the new officer we have," the chief said smiling, pointing his arm to the guy in the corner, who swallowed and took a few steps to grab your hand.

"I'm Leon. Leon S Kennedy" the guy said shaking your hand as you nodded slowly.

Great. You have tons of work and now you even have double work? Just your luck. At least he was cute.

You gave him a cold glare, eyeing him up and down as you left the chief's office with him following behind you.

"So how-" he starts before you shut him up. "Organize these files in order by the date" You handed him towers of paper that sat on your desk for 2 days. The guy immediately sat down and started his work while you typed an email to a witness.

This went on for about 3 weeks. You come to work, and Leon greets you energetically (how does he do that??) every day before you give him something to waste his time on. But for the last few days, he grew more distant, almost snapping when you snap at him. Twining. Luckily Leon didn't like Jack that much too. During the lunch break, he managed to spill his opinion on how annoying Jack was to you.

"What the hell Kennedy?? I trusted you one time to properly do something and you messed it up?? How old are you?? Eight?? How can you not write a report?? You were there with me. I even explained to you"

The poor guy stared at the floor and nodded softly before standing up to rewrite the report. After work, you saw something you were not supposed to see. The poor guy was crying in the bathroom (he forgot to lock it).

Driving home you thought about your childhood when your father yelled at you for making simple mistakes as any child does. Accidentally breaking a cheap cup, and spilling water on the dining table. "When you had an angry man in your house, you always have one" seemed to be your situation.

When did you start yelling and insulting people? Instead of helping them like you did in middle school math class?

Maybe you were too harsh on him. Maybe it was the way your dad treated you. Maybe it was the way to be a perfect girl like your mom insisted. Maybe it's just you. Maybe you're just a horrible person.

Thinking about the way Leon looked at you before switching to the floor and seeing him crying in the bathroom because of you.

Maybe you are the worst person on earth. He was just a guy who didn't know better because you didn't explain him properly.

Maybe tomorrow you should try to apologize if you have the nerve. What were you going to say?? "I'm sorry Leon. I didn't mean to yell at you for being dumb. I felt bad now. So.. sorry"

You couldn't help but be embarrassed about pleading with someone. No one in your family apologized for the things they did. You didn't know how to say sorry.

Throwing your phone after realizing what you did was quite impressive. You managed to get his address. You are going to say sorry. Not tomorrow. Not tomorrow's tomorrow. Right now, In his apartment, alone.

Pressing the bell gave your ears tingle. Wow. You are so stupid. What made you think this was okay? Anyway, there's no going back since you pressed the damn bell already.

Suddenly the door swung open to reveal the blondish dude. Damn. He was only wearing sweatpants.

"Um.. hello... Kennedy" you choked out awkwardly. Leon on the other side raised his eyebrow and let you in hesitantly. He was still angry or sad? You didn't know. You were never good with emotion. The last time you cried was in middle school after your "friend" spilled your secrets to everyone.

"Listen.. about today... I want to... apologize to you. It.. it was never your fault. I should have worded things better."

Wow. You did it. Leon started at you for a few seconds before nodding a bit. "..okay.. I'll try harder to do well too" he muttered.

His eyes flickered back and forth as if he was thinking about something. After a good few seconds, he rasped a line out. "I like you, you know?"

It was almost a whisper but you heard it.

"What?" You asked, shocked. 24 years old. Still had no boyfriend, girlfriend, or anyone before. It was the first time someone said it to you.

"I liked you the moment I saw you my first day. And... I forgive you for yelling.. please.. try not to do that again... I- I felt like I was a failure" he muttered.

Who knew talking would have been this awkward? What were you going to say? Unfortunately, before you thought about anything, your body closed the distance between you by kissing his lips.

Woah. Just as you realized what had happened and were about to pull away, he grabbed your waist and brought you closer.

Well, at least today you didn't have such a bad day. Like the one where Jack spilled coffee on your white shirt (it was 100 dollars) and everyone can see your bra. (Another story)

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x you #re2 remake #re2 leon #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy re2 #re2make #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy imagine

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fall0utmind · 1 month ago

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WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME IF I TOLD YOU MY DARKEST SECRETS? Chapter 4 - Crash

Hi guysss,

Thank you sooooo much for all the love you have shown me and this fic, i could not have asked for anything better for my first fic!!! SO MUCH LOVE FOR YOU ALL!!!

Let me know what you think, come yap in my asks :)

Chapter 4 (CRASH) below

HERE on AO3

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

TW/ SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/ IDEATIONS - be safe xx

When Marc eventually reaches the garage, he’s a mess. He finds a deserted room, pulls the door closed and screams into his fist. His brain is flurried, thoughts travelling at 100 miles per hour. He feels wound up, taught with anger and pain, ready to snap at the next tiny mistake. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to quiet his brain, but Valentino’s cold words echo in the empty spaces. He buries his face into the front of the hoodie he stole, breathing in Dovi’s comforting scent, hoping to cling onto some semblance of kindness, of warmth. He refuses to let the tears fall, unwilling to give Rossi any more of himself. He will not continue to split his heart into pieces over a man who flip-flops between not looking at him or spouting cruelty.

Marc must race, he has to, no matter how crap he feels. He has ridden through worse before, he just needs to quiet his mind, get on his bike and do what he was made to do. He blinks his eyes open, his harsh breathing filling the otherwise silent room. There are teeth marks on his knuckles from where he has bitten his fist too hard, he revels in the way it burns. Pain is a good focus – a distraction from his racing thoughts. Marc steps out of the room and makes a beeline to the nearest bathroom. He peers into the mirror above the basin and feels his heart sink at the sight of red eyes which sting with unshed tears. He rubs his eyes furiously, splashing cold water over his face to remove the redness, attempting to make himself look less fragile. The water is freezing, shocking him back into his body, it makes him feel a little more in control. Looking a little less like he's about to fall apart is the best that he can hope for as he mentally steels himself to face down the world.

The cameras are trained on him when he enters the garage, pulling at the edges of his awareness as he begins to prepare for the race. The team decide to let Marc and Alex go out onto the grid at the last minute in an attempt to prevent any unwanted attention. That doesn’t stop the media from trying. He feels wrong-footed, like something is a millimetre out of place but he can’t quite put his finger on what it is. His arm aches. He shrugs it off. Instead, he focuses on his pre-race routine, ignoring the buzz around him until they need to go.

When they finally make their way onto the grid, they are surrounded by more mechanics and engineers than usual, wrapped in a protective cocoon of familiar pale blue. He keeps his head down and his game face on, ignoring any attention as he makes his way to the front of the grid, thankful that he’s there and not in the middle of the pack. He nods at Alex as the group splits, watching his brother approach his bike. He tries to keep his features neutral, unbothered, but can’t help feeling like he’s failing, the strain of the weekend weakening his usual façade. Passing Pecco in the p2 spot makes him grimace, another reminder of the earlier disaster. He can see the Italian trying to catch his attention out of the corner of his eye but refuses to engage. Reasonably, Marc knows that Pecco is not Vale, he is too calm, too rounded, missing the ragged edges that Marc personally knows so well. Despite this, he will not run the risk of looking. He does not have the capability for mind games right now, not after Valentino’s little stunt earlier. Instead, he walks away, his eyes trained on the ground, unaware of Pecco’s concerned frown behind him.

Usually, Marc has no problem focusing before a race, narrowing his universe down to just him and his bike. But today a million thoughts are racing through his head. He tries to shove it to the furthest corner of his mind, boxing up the nerves and the sorrow. But the little voice telling him that he is not enough refuses to be silenced. Instead, he pushes his visor down, blocking out the world and its pain, and gets ready to do what he does best. He can forget about it for 13 laps, he can ignore the pain – it is, after all, what he does best.

The grid begins to clear. Marc’s heart is pounding. The green flag is waved. He can feel a thousand eyes on him.

The lights go out.

The bikes roar off the line. He gets a good start, slingshotting around the first corner, retaining his first place. He feels alive as he guns the throttle, throwing his body from side to side to hit angles that should be impossible. Marc always clings to this feeling, the bike humming underneath him, adrenaline pumping through his veins, this is what he lives for.

Halfway through and Marc is doing well, he lost a place to Bagnaia on lap 2 and Martin is riding up his ass, but he is still in contention for the podium, potentially even a win. As he enters the 4th lap, Marc unintentionally tunes into the crowd, the roar as Pecco passes followed by the unintelligible mix of boos and cheers for him. He knows he’s not popular in Italy, God he’s been dealing with it for years. He can’t help but imagine that the booing has got more vicious this weekend, pouncing on his weakness. In the moment of distraction his mind capitalises, automatically leaping to the vicious words whispered behind his back and to the hatred that he’s seen, heard, and read. It comes in flashes: Valentino telling Pecco that it’s not worth it, Valentino implying that he’s an attention seeker, that he made this up. The people who think he’s better off dead, that he has ruined the sport, or that he’s selfish for no longer wanting to live the hell that was 2015. It echoes like a mantra, carved into the walls of his brain, ensuring that he never forgets the burning hatred of those around him.

He distractedly shifts his weight into turn 10, realising a fraction too late what will happen. The back tyre wobbles, desperately seeking friction against the scorching tarmac, before the whole bike bucks from underneath him, launching him into the air and sending them both into the gravel trap. Marc feels weightless for half a second, tumbling through the air and unable to do anything about it. He comes crashing back down to earth with a thump, tossed head over heels across the track, before coming to a halt near his bike.

Fuck.

Marc lies on the floor for a moment, willing himself to not lose it then and there. He knows he should move; people will begin to think the worst – but a small, messed-up part of him barely cares. He lets out a primal scream, thankful nobody can hear him, before finally clambering to his feet, wincing in pain. He jogs over to his bike to assess the damage. His bad arm hurts like a bitch, but a quick body scan tells him that he is mostly okay, just bruised. The main collateral is his ego. His bike is a little worse for wear, but fixable, that’s what matters.

Idiota, he can't believe he got so stuck in his head that he crashed. He needs to be better. He does not want people doubting him now, not when they can already identify spots of weakness through his heavily constructed armour.

He drags his bike upright, refusing the help of the marshals, before being escorted back to the garage.

They force him to go to medical after his crash, much to Marc’s annoyance. He gets plenty of sympathetic winces at the array of bruises now decorating his body, but there is not much else they can do. He is checked for a concussion, which he has thankfully avoided, and the medics give him an ice pack for the worst of the bruising (most of it is bad). After, he slowly makes his way back to the garage, a slight limp in his step. He apologises to the crew, grimacing at the replays of the crash flashing up on the screens. He knows that people will use this against him, rumours that he can’t stand the pressures of this sport. That he’s a danger to other drivers and himself. The irony isn’t lost on him, he doesn’t have to be on track to be a danger to himself.

If he’s being honest, Marc is scared. A deep-rooted fear that his career will be derailed by this weekend, that he will no longer be known as an 8-times world champion, the baby champ, instead he’ll be the dangerous, mentally unstable rider who couldn’t cope with fame and heartbreak. He is scared that Valentino’s narrative of his character will have a lasting impression on his name in this sport.

It's Dani who eventually breaks him from his self-deprecating thoughts, pulling him into a tight hug. He whispers to Marc that the voices aren’t true, that he isn’t what they say he is, that he is a good person. Dani has always known him a little bit too well. When Marc draws away there are tears in his eyes. He knows he will have to face the press again, especially after such a disaster in the sprint. But for now, he is content to be looked after by his team and his friends.

Alex ends up taking p6, a good outcome for at least one of the Gresini riders. Marc has been avoiding the media pen since his crash and is rapidly running out of excuses not to go. He pulls Alex into a congratulatory hug, wrinkling his nose as a press officer shoos them both off to give their interviews. In a last-ditch effort, Marc sends his very best puppy eyes in the direction of Dani, Dovi, and Jorge, who, true to their word, have been in the garage since the race started. All he receives in return is two sympathetic looks and a shit-eating grin from Jorge, who has always been a pain in the ass. Marc laughs at the thought, grinning and tugging Alex with him as he leaves, racing disasters momentarily forgotten.

Marc is going to kill someone. The jury is still out on whether it will be himself or whoever fucked up so bad that a summary of his entire medical history ended up on the internet. (He’s kidding, it won’t be himself, he has too much to prove for that). His media appearances go about as well as expected, which is to say it’s a clusterfuck.

The kinder interviewers ask him about the crash and how he is feeling, touching on his prospects for tomorrow’s race. The meaner of them question whether the news was the cause of the crash, and how Valentino played a role, pressing on already delicate bruises. One even goes as far as asking if 2015 “ruined him as a rider”, whatever that means, he has 4 championship wins under his belt since then for God’s sake.

It becomes apparent fairly quickly that more information has been leaked. Whoever is behind this surely wants to destroy Marc for all he’s worth, he cannot believe he’d be so unlucky to have another piece of his life flayed open every time he’s on the track. The moment they ask about his arm, his pain, and his “questionable history with pain medication”, Marc simply walks out. It is surely not his finest moment of PR, but he has had enough of this weekend, of people digging up every hurt and pain he has been through and splaying him open for all to see.

The journalists clearly can’t tell or don’t care that Marc is done, pushing and shoving to get a word from him about the most recent gossip. Marc doesn’t know where to turn, every exit is seemingly blocked by people who want to profit from his pain. The world is spinning around him as tears blur his vision. He has no point of contact with the world, he is floating away, woozy with the feeling. For a fleeting moment, Marc wishes he had succeeded all those years ago, he wishes he would have put an end to all the pain and suffering in his life. The realisation rips an ugly sob from deep within his chest, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. He doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t. But he certainly doesn’t want to live life like this.

He doesn’t know how long he’s standing there, shaking apart at the seams, before three sets of hands lead him away. Somewhere through the haze, he recognises Aleix’s gentle Spanish, clearly alternating between soothing him and conversing worriedly with someone else. Marc stumbles over his own feet, held upright by a strong pair of tattooed arms, identifying the second person as Fabio. For what feels like the hundredth time this weekend, his eyes well up; he is unimaginably grateful for the few members of the paddock he can lean upon. They manoeuvre him away from the press, earning some baffled stares from other pilots and team members. Marc guesses that it's not every day you see Marc Marquez half-carried out of the press pen. He can hear his rescuers rapidly debating where to take him before a consensus is reached to deliver him back to the Gresini garage, where hopefully Alex will be waiting.

Marc is surprised to identify the third person as Pedro Acosta. He has not interacted much with the rookie but is pleasantly surprised by his careful hands, aiding the others to get Marc somewhere safe. He suppresses a groan at the sudden realisation of the articles that will no doubt surface tomorrow. Marc Marquez, damsel in distress? At this point, he might as well give an interview saying he’s been in love with Valentino for as long as he can remember.

Marc knows that a decade ago he would have ripped his own heart out and given it to Valentino to destroy. The older rider has unscrewed all his parts, - his hero devotion and childhood wonder, before piecing him back together into the splintered man he is today. He guards himself more these days, walls built strong and high to withstand the storms that always seem to batter him. He can no longer see himself falling into a lover’s arms like he did all those years ago, instead choosing to keep them at arm’s length, decidedly distrusting. He knows if Valentino came back, it would be the end of him.

Pedro disappears at some point between the media pen and the garage, leaving Fabio and Aleix to usher him through the back corridors of the paddock. Marc is aware of the near-continuous apologies listlessly falling from his lips, despaired by the idea of being so weak. He is gently shushed by Aleix, who holds open the door for Fabio and him to enter the back of Gresini’s building

It’s Jorge who notices the three men spilling into the room first. He’s out of his seat in a flash, urging Marc to sit down whilst Dani fetches some water, working in perfect tandem.

“Cazzo, what happened?”

Dovi directs his question towards Fabio and Aleix, the former of whom answers, with a worried frown.

“He just shut down in the media pen, he fully froze. It was like he’d just gone somewhere else; we got him out of there as soon as possible. I’ve never seen him do anything like that.”

“It happens sometimes when he’s been bottling everything up for a long time, especially when he feels weak. He just loses his sense of reality. It’s always scary, it doesn’t get any easier.”

Alex takes in his brother's state from where he has entered the room. He knows he needs to take Marc somewhere where he can fall apart in private, their motorhome being the sensible option. Marc needs this, needs to let it all out so that he can race tomorrow.

“Alex, is what they’re saying true?”

It’s a quiet question from Dani, but it catches the attention of all of them.

Alex scoffs, “Which bit?”

“Given the extent of media coverage, we can assume the A&E trips happened. I remember being worried about him during those years, it was like he was always pretending.”

Alex nods at Dani, confirming his assumptions. It’s Jorge who pipes up then, voice full of unconcealed fury,

“I’m going to fucking kill Rossi, I swear to god”

He lets out a string of expletives, calling Valentino every rude name under the sun. Alex can second that, and Marc, now gaining some lucidity, let’s out a brittle chuckle.

Fabio asks the question they’re all thinking, a pained look on his face.

“And his injury? It was that bad, even after the surgeries, I know he was out of it during races, I didn’t know how much pain he was in...”

Marc replies to this one.

“Agony, like red hot knives tearing into my flesh every corner. Not helped by the Hondas tendency to play buckaroo with me.”

He gives a self-deprecating laugh

“But I am nothing without a bike so still I raced”

Dovi begins to refute the statement, but Alex simply shakes his head, this is a long fought and lost argument.

Alex sighs, resigned to an evening of his brother once again falling apart due to Valentino Rossi and the scars that remain.

“Probably best we go to the motorhome then, are you all coming?”

They must make quite a strange image, seven riders, both current and retired, sneaking through the quiet and unknown parts of the track to reach the safety of the motorhomes. Marc is in the middle of them, bracketed in and protected from each side. He still feels pretty spaced out, his thoughts are a mess, and he keeps getting stuck in a loop of forbidden memories that have resurfaced. Marc registers the others leaving once they arrive at the familiar blue motorhome. He clutches Dani’s jacket before he can walk away and makes the three retired riders promise to return, feeling too fragile not to have the comfort of safety in numbers. He turns towards Aleix and Fabio and quietly thanks them for their help before turning back towards his brother.

Alex helps Marc inside the motorhome, pushing him toward the shower, and telling him to clean up whilst he talks to the team. Marc turns the water temperature up as high as possible, hoping it will soothe his aching muscles since it can’t do much for his current mental state. After he’s done, he wraps a fluffy towel around his waist, heading to the bedroom to change whilst Alex showers. He feels more physically grounded now but inside he’s in emotional turmoil. He feels like he’s been cut loose, unmoored on choppy water, unsure where he can sink his anchor to weather the storm. For now, he decides his motorhome and his younger brother are the safest place.

Alex is already there, washed and dressed, when he re-enters the living space. He has a little pinch between his eyebrows as he stares at Marc in concern; clearly, Marc’s attempts to cover up his misery are unsuccessful. He winces as he approaches the sofas, his brother instantly picking up on that too, damn having a codependent relationship with a sibling, they know too much. Thankfully, Alex says nothing, he just helps lower Marc onto the cushions, before turning to grab the bruise relief cream, looking at Marc pointedly until he takes his shirt back off. Alex cringes at the array of watercolour blues and purples painted across Marc’s skin, still uncomfortable seeing Marc in pain, even after all these years.

“How’s your arm?”

Marc hums, considering,

“It’s pretty bad, I don’t need medication through”

Alex gives him another look, understanding but slightly exasperated.

“Marc, you still sometimes need the medication. You are not who you were then. You are in pain; you do not need to just live in it.”

Marc contemplates his brother’s argument, smiling slightly at his unwavering support.

“Not yet, I will take them later, maybe”

Their conversation is interrupted by the motorhome door opening, Dovi slipping inside and shutting it behind him. His eyes instantly shoot to Marc, who is still shirtless on the sofas, his eyes widening as he takes in the tanned skin of the Spaniard. Marc still looks gorgeous, even when battered and bruised. The thought makes him feel guilty for a second, he never wants Marc to be in pain. But still, it doesn’t take away from his attraction. Alex rolls his eyes at the pair, coughing obnoxiously as Marc’s cheeks flush pink. Dovi grins at Marc, still unabashedly staring as he shrugs a t-shirt and hoodie back on, glaring lightly back at the Italian. Look, Dovi’s not blind, he knows an attractive man when he sees one (he always has), but he is also well aware that Marc is still a bit in love with Valentino, plus he would be stupid to risk such a friendship. But he can still look and the younger still preens under his gaze.

Marc tries to will the blush away from his cheeks, well aware of Dovi’s smug look, and frankly, it’s slightly unfair that the man still has that effect on him, he thought that he was over that part of his life. But he can’t deny that he enjoys the older man's attention.

Dani and Jorge return about ten minutes later, and they settle together on the couch, joining the others. Marc feels his brain quiet, the volume of his thoughts turned down a few notches. His whole body aches after the crash, each movement burning his muscles. He eventually gives in to the pain, flashing Alex a pleading look, spurring the younger to fish out the appropriate number of painkillers and hand them to his brother with a glass of water. They’re the strong ones that make Marc a little hazy, a little more fluid and uncaring as they kick in. He ends up settled between Dovi and Jorge, leaning heavily on the older Spaniard, his legs across Dovi. Dani is on Jorge’s other side and Alex sits opposite.

The conversation is soft. The TV is talking to itself quietly in the background. Marc has lost track of all threads of the topics once more, tangled like balls of yarn in his brain. He allows the pain medication to soften him and lets himself drift amongst his thoughts, ebbing and flowing like the sea. He feels Jorge’s (Danis?) hand gently petting his hair and Dovi's warmth pressed against him. It’s peaceful. Somewhere in the back of his mind, alarm bells are sounding at how vulnerable and weak he’s being in front of the others, but for now, he ignores them, allowing himself to float.

The weekend has been a mess, he will be the first to admit it. The fact that his medical records have been leaked would be bad enough, even if they didn’t contain all his biggest secrets – his mental health, the extent of his injuries, his weakness. The world has seen what 2015 took from him, about his overdoses, and subsequent admissions to A&E. They know that the doctors had looked to Alex to make sure his older brother stayed alive another day. Back then, he lived life as if he didn’t care to see another day, throwing himself into reckless situations with abandon. He was indeed a danger on the track to himself, but he never, ever, meant to drag anyone else into it. The only thing he could clutch onto was his success on the bike, it was all that mattered to him. In 2015 and the years that followed Marc would leave everything on track, he would go out not caring if he returned to the garage, and we he came back time and time again, he was empty and hollow.

Valentino had taken everything from him, everything but his riding. His hope, childhood dreams, and will to live had been snatched by jealous hands. The media had torn him and his family to shreds. His loved ones were scared to leave him alone. Marc just felt hollow. Nothing mattered to him but winning. He thought that maybe people would consider him worthwhile if he was winning. Valentino would look at him again. Would tell him he was wrong, and that he was sorry. The day never came. Instead, Marc was left with the demons, locked in his mind and told to make his own way out.

Then one day, finally, the light was shining at the other end of the tunnel. After the depression, after the suicide attempts, and the self-destruction. After he had glued together the shattered pieces of himself into something that only partially resembled the old him, before Valentino Rossi. Then Jerez had happened. He came off his bike so fast he didn’t truly remember it happening, just the searing pain and a useless arm hanging limply by his side as he tried to mask the pain from the world.

The next few years were a haze of surgeries, pain, riding, not being able to ride, pain medication, and more encompassing sadness. He knows somewhere on the internet there is now a long list of medications he was on for that pain. No doubt there would also be records of the countless doctors who were concerned about him ignoring the pain, or not taking his pain meds. It was some twisted form of self-flagellation that he told himself he should live with the burning agony to prove that he was strong. He was too weak to do it in the races and instead would take medication before, just so he could make the corners, followed by copious numbers of painkillers after, knocking him out clean. He would be so doped up that his brother would have to look after him, feeding him and putting him to bed. Marc still remembers the phantom pain that followed him everywhere, despite the medication. At some point, he took too many and became unresponsive. Alex had to rush him to the hospital. From that day on Marc had vowed to be more sensible, if only for his brother's sake.

The memories make him feel hollow, the empty space in him aching for his loss. He does better these days, but it has taken a long time to reach this point, with countless hours spent talking to professionals about his pain and his feelings. He hates that there are records of so much of this online, that anyone can read about the worst moments in his life. It makes him feel weak. Unworthy. He stays there for some time, revisiting the pain and trying to stay tethered to real life, rather than consider the endless possibilities in a different universe. He doesn’t know when he starts travelling down dark paths, but it makes him shake with sorrow. He feels part of himself shatter, right there in his motorhome in Misano.

#rosquez #marc marquez #motogp #motogp rpf #my fics #medical leak au #please yap in my asks guys #marcs medical records getting leaked #yayyyy #aoife finally did it #pedrenzo #in this one #dani pedrosa #andrea dovizioso #marc is so baby girl #going through it #marc whump ftw

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gotham-daydreams · 4 months ago

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Hi hi! Anon that can easily stay stuck in their imagination here-

I'm so glad you answered my ask!! And yeah in a situation like not [] where they will try very hard to not physically hurt the reader a case where they will is more difficult. Honestly it depends on the person's will.

Most people can't take torture nor can that take having their independence taken away.

And while the reader in not [] is very much more angry than numb to them at the end of part 3, I feel it takes a lot to be broken.

Personally spite would keep me from giving in. I don't have a lot to ask for but basic decency and admittance of guilt but the batfam is too prideful and selfish to ever do such a thing.

And I live with pain all the time so being in more pain isn't ideal but it's not something I couldn't handle. In the case were my limbs are taken they only thing they can't take from me is my mind

I mean they could always try other methods, drugs and surgeries (lobotomy is such a horrifying concept fr) and such but honestly doing that would be completely destroying what once was.

The batfam is mostly selfish to the point where they are obsessed with the IDEA of reader not who they actually are. A part of me would hope that in destroying who reader was they would feel remorse and do what's right but the other part of me doubts that.

It would take a lot for them to actually feel to do what's right and at that point what's right is taking reader out back for a final send off.

But in such a case where the mind is gone then you really have nothing but a shattered vase. You can try putting it back together but you'll never succeed. A broken vase is much easier to fix than a shattered one after all.

Overall I have enough spite and mostly enough pain tolerance to stick through my decision of staying with my head in the clouds

In all honestly the human body can only last so long when the person in the body has no will to exist. You can feed it and bathe it, take care of that bag of flesh made to carry your bones and organs with all the right ingredients, but the brain knows when the metaphorical heart isn't in it and will only last so long, no amount of reviving can fix that sadly

It's why I wouldn't mind being kidnapped if they would actually take the steps to put their pride and selfish nature away. Yeah staying trapped in the manor sucks but continuing on with the forgive and forget attitude is a surefire way to get one to despise your guts.

I'm so glad you have returned for a bit!! I apologize for rambling in your ask box I am a certified yapper and hopefully all my yapping doesn't sound as scatterbrained as it does in my head-

Stay safe!! Don't forget to hydrate! I hope you have a lovely day or night

YES!!! YOU GET IT!! HAHA!

Also don't even worry about it, I love all of these long submissions and such and they are such a joy to read!!! I hope you have an amazing day/afternoon/night as well, and again, don't even worry! I'm a certified yapper too LMAO

But seriously you so get it and I love you for that anon! The family is so fixated on the idea of the reader moreso than them as an actual person. They, ultimately, care more about feeding their own delusions and ideas of what could be - and they do that through the reader. Misery loves company, after all, and what I was also basically trying to get at with the previous post which is, well-

They'll grasp at straws. They'll tear away at everything, and destroy whatever they 'have to', and anything that gets in the way if it means getting what they want. No matter how broken it is, they'll keep replacing parts- and even if it'll never be the same, even if you will never be the same, as long as you look the same, and physically are the same person... well, they'll keep that. They'll take what they can get, and they'll make sure of that above all else - even if it means essentially losing you in the process.

If anything, I also feel like my other previous posts I've made today support that- LMAO

That they'll absolutely destroy you, only to physically keep you around, and whereas they'll all have their own methods of treating you and keeping you around - as I do doubt that all of them will be so selfish and self centered to not even try to apologize or work things out in a semi civil manner - its still ultimately harmful regardless. Though, that's mainly because of their borderline obsession with progress.

Specifically, for the Not [ ] Series (and I hope this'll show in Chapter 4 as it is sort of why things go down the way they do), why things have ultimately turned this way and why they get so messy so quickly is because of that obsession of progress. Obviously, they want to be with the reader and be the totally happy family that they never were - but they're biggest problem is that they're impatient. They're impatient and the reader... well, they basically aren't giving the family any avenues to make progress-

WHICH IS OKAY!! It's perfectly fine to want space and time just... away from others, especially if they are the ones that hurt you so deeply and greatly affected their life. Especially when, like the reader, the family made them suffer alone and by themself for years. They were essentially isolated and kept away from everyone except for Alfred, and no one encouraged them. No one was there for them at all, and as they express and say in Chapter 3 - they feel like their efforts were in vain. Everything was all for not, and it's okay to want to be away from that, even if the family technically didn't do anything, because it was ultimately their inaction that caused this in the first place.

The reader just needs space because, until a few months ago, they were around and stuck in a place where they felt unneeded, unwanted, and just... alone. They want more of that space so that they can clear their head and finally focus on what they want to do in their life, because now they're actually getting a chance to actually live their life and they love it! So the prospect of going back.. of being in the mansion again? Of going back to that horrible, isolating life? They can't do it. Especially when they can't bring themself to believe that the family's intentions are genuine. Especially when they just don't want to 'risk' things going back to how they were, because god damn it- they just started living their life!! And it's like the family is trying to take that away again.

Nevertheless, the family will still try to do what they can to get what they want, and if Chapter 4 will show anything, is that when given no room... they'll make it. They'll rip and tear, and most importantly, they'll take.

I feel like the end of Chapter 4, and subsequently- the beginning of Chapter 5 (if i write it how i think I will when i get to that point) will definitely spawn all the spite and dread someone will need for a lifetime, believe me! And honestly I have all hopes for people like you being able to withstand the torment that will come from most of the family. Though, I will also say that, or course, that is most of them.

Push comes to shove, hell, at least Alfred will have you with how reasonable he'll seem - with him definitely beinf the most guilty when it comes to making others out to be worse than they are, and acting as your savior. Both literally and figuratively as he will comfort you and, as usual, act as a voice of reason with some much added sass thrown in there.

I also feel like Bruce, despite his own pride, would also sit down and talk it out - and I won't go into much detail here as it will be shown in Chapter 4, but let's just say he'll try. He may not be very successful as he is a man of few words at his core, but I'll say that he won't be one of the people impulsively tearing off any limbs, that's for sure!

Barbara is in a similar boat as she'll try to reason and talk things out, but she isn't one of the family members 'living' with you, so...

Aaand I won't go too indepth with the others as I feel this post in long enough- though just note as well that Selina would try to be another voice of reason (and also manipulation), and so would Duke - who would try to also hold people back from doing anything 'rash' (since, if anyone is going to not only seem reasonable, but also feel genuine, it would be him. hands down. and sure, maybe it'd be Dick... if the whole argument didn't happen LMAO) if they were in the series, which... I'll definitely try to include them going forward as they are apart of the Batfam- I just didn't have a means to include them into the series, and now that it's lowley wrapping up... well, I think it's just best to include them elsewhere!

Nevertheless, thanks for sending this in! I really enjoyed reading it, along with the first one you sent in as well! I love long submissions so much (though any submission/ask makes me happy as hell), and, again, this was really fun!! I always love a good excuse to yap too, as you can tell...

Regardless, again, have an amazing day/afternoon/night, anon!!! You get it fr 💛💛💛

And if I misread or misunderstood anything... feel free to correct me! I read pretty fast and tend to skip over words and such by accident, which is... hilarious considering things, but yeah! I'm sorry if I misunderstood anything, but regardless, again, this has been fun and I love you 💛

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #gn reader #platonic yandere #not series

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