#which i blame ferris for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puck-luck · 3 months ago

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co-eds | mattias samuelsson & jack quinn

warnings: dom!ms, sub!jq & sub!fem!reader, threesome (mmf!), teasing, humiliation, degradation, praise, fingering (f!receiving), head (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, use of sex toys, references to voyeurism/listening in, uhhhhhhh that's all i can think of but like they do literally everything but have actual penis in vagina sex (don't worry it's still hot) pairing: mattias samuelsson x fem!reader x jack quinn summary: based on the prompt "I'd 100,000% fall in love with Mattias if he was like my friend's roommate and I was watching them play Mario on the couch" but then turned into best friend's roommate which then turned into "oh wait these bitches are soooo homoerotic... this needs to be poly like ferris bueller" wc: 10555

The first time you met Mattias, it was the third day of classes of your sophomore year and your best friend from freshman year, one Mr. Jack Quinn, had invited you to his new house for a housewarming dinner. You had gotten yourself dolled up– jeans rather than your normal sweats– and driven to the parking lot closest to their place before walking the rest of the way.

Mattias had swung the door open and looked you up and down, making you do a double take at his large frame filling the doorway.

“Hi,” he greeted, his Joker-ish smile crossing his face.

“Hi,” you replied. “Is Jack here?”

Mattias took you in again, then stepped aside so that you could enter the house. “He’s in the kitchen,” Mattias told you. He closed the door behind you, then collapsed on the couch in the living room like he’d been through a very hard day’s work.

That was four months ago– and plenty has changed.

Now, you’re a mainstay at the Quinn-Samuelsson house. You spend your evenings there, whether you’re studying, eating, or just hanging out. You often spend your nights and your mornings there, too– waking up in Mattias’ queen-sized bed, tangled up in his blankets because the boy is a restless sleeper and wrapped in his arms because, despite his restlessness, Mattias can barely stand when he’s not touching you.

It started out small– he would tease you for being smaller than him, comparing the size of your hands or sitting next to you on the couch during movie nights just close enough that your thigh was pressing against his. Then, he grew bolder– a hand on your knee when seated or at the small of your back when walking behind you. It all came to a head one night after a rowdy game of bar trivia, where you and Jack had stumbled back to the house arm-in-arm and laughing. Your laughter and ruckus had woken Mattias up and you were the bold one this time, wrapping your arms around his waist and smiling up at him.

“Hi, Tits,” you slurred kindly the first time you slept in his bed, using the nickname that you and Jack had concocted to talk about Mattias behind his back. It was all out in the open now– a side effect of your drunkenness. “You’re looking especially tall today.”

He had laughed out that breathless chuckle of his and hugged you back good-naturedly, then asked if you wanted to use his bed instead of the couch that night. You had agreed and after a copious amount of whining, Mattias had joined you instead of squeezing onto the couch in your place. Jack had long since gone to bed and you and Mattias had stayed up talking about nonsense. As the sun crested the horizon, his nose nudged against yours and you realized how close you were. There was still a little liquid courage left coursing through your veins and you blame that for the way you tipped your chin up and brushed against his lips.

It had been lazy and casual, a barely-friends with benefits situation that became more and more frequent until you were practically dependent on your dose of Mattias to get through the day.

The problem with your new relationship with Mattias is that Jack is starting to feel plenty neglected. You understand it and he doesn’t have to tell you that he’s missing you for you to notice– it’s all in his recent distance from you, how he sits across the room in the chair rather than on the couch with you and Mattias and how he keeps his hands securely in his pockets when you walk back from class or the library.

It’s really starting to bother you, but you can’t talk to Jack about it. He’ll just brush you off and say nothing is wrong, even though it so clearly is. Instead, you’re watching Mattias and Jack play a video game that doesn’t capture your interest– that, despite knowing that you came over today to hang out with Jack, is focused on Mattias’ long fingers, the ones that you’ve become well acquainted with since the first time you kissed him.

You have tried to tear your eyes away from the digits and even succeeded a few times, but your vision keeps wandering back. You blame the smooth, deep tone of Mattias’ voice, laughing at Jack each time his character gets killed or teasing him whenever he gets close to winning, but not close enough. Mattias has a habit of using the same tone to tease you, especially when his fingers are prodding at your insides or your lips are wrapped around his cock.

Tonight is about your friendship with Jack, you remind yourself again. He’s the whole reason you even know Mattias and even more than that, he’s your best friend. You adore Jack, even when he’s bitching and whining and moaning about something petulant or putting off his homework until you relent and shove yours across the table for him to copy. He’s the best person you’ve met since starting college and you never thought that you’d be one of those girls that abandons their friends as soon as they find a boy to fuck, but you’ve been acting that way lately. You feel guilty.

Even Mattias’ unimpressed eyes and quirked lips when you refuse to sit next to him can’t convince you to budge. You’re borderline ignoring the boy that has learned just how to push your buttons and make you scream, and he’s getting a kick out of it.

Jack is locked in on the game now, trying to capitalize on Mattias’ wandering eyes. He’s biting his bottom lip and evaluating the screen with unblinking eyes.

You’re so fond of him– he’s competitive, like you. He’s eager to prove himself and anxious to shine, which doesn’t manifest in your classes so much as when you’re around the house. He cooks and it’s always delicious. He doesn’t even mind doing the dishes afterward. What you know started as a class crush– and nothing more– has bloomed into a strong friendship that you wouldn’t trade for anything, not even Mattias.

Regardless of how Mattias drives you crazy, in the best way.

Despite his focus, Jack loses by a margin. Mattias’ bragging smile causes a flutter of butterflies to erupt in your stomach even if you’re shaking your head.

“It’s too easy,” Mattias says with a shrug. He tosses his controller onto the table in front of him and kicks his feet up, crossing his ankles and threading his fingers behind his head. The motion broadens his chest and accentuates his thighs, but once again, you refuse to be distracted.

“That’s okay, Jack.” You comfort him with a pat on his knee.

“He wins every time,” Jack complains, tossing his own controller onto the table and adjusting his hat on his head. He does it like a tic, you’ve noticed, when he’s frustrated. “He doesn’t even have to try.”

“Not just when it comes to games, eh?” Mattias teases the boy with a wink, knocking his shoulder against Jack’s before standing. He winks at you, too, then bids you both goodnight. He walks past you, stepping over Jack’s legs rather than taking the easy route, and ruffles your hair annoyingly when he does so.

You pout and try to fix your hair when he’s done, but you’re secretly pleased– you love how Mattias shows affection. He’s so loose with it, not generic at all, and it always makes you smile.

The tall, broad boy disappears up to his bedroom, leaving you with Jack. You turn towards him and throw your legs over his lap, the arm of the couch pressed against your middle back. Jack’s hand falls on your shin, his thumb rubbing over the skin.

“What was that about?” You ask. Mattias’ final gloat seemed pointed and specific, but you didn’t know that there was tension between the boys. Surely one of them would have told you.

“Dunno,” Jack replies. “He’s so fucking cryptic.”

“We can definitely agree on that,” you say with a laugh.

Jack smiles and you sit in silence for a minute. Jack’s touching you comfortably, but the motion makes your skin tickle a bit, sending a shiver up your body. You blame it on the residual butterflies that Mattias left behind, still fluttering in your stomach.

“Hey,” you say, breaking the silence.

Jack fixes you with a quizzical look. “Hey.” He raises an eyebrow, but he’s still smiling a bit. His thumb has stilled.

“I know you’ve told me a million times, but are you sure you’re okay with me and Mattias hooking up?” You ask with a self-deprecating tilt of your head, making sure you don’t break eye contact with the boy, even as he starts to duck his head.

“Everything’s fine, I swear,” Jack assures you. He holds out his pinky and you hook your pinky to it, kissing the tip of your thumb. He’s got a soft smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and once again, you know that he’s not quite telling the truth.

You don’t want to push. You don’t want to force him to tell you something he’s not ready to say, but something about the Mattias situation is bothering him.

“Okay,” you relent, matching his smile. “You’ll tell me if it starts bothering you, right? I’ll kick him to the curb. Girl code?”

Jack scoffs, rolling his eyes at your insinuation. “I’m not one of the girls,” he grumbles.

“You like drama more than I do,” you point out.

Jack doesn’t have a smart reply for that, so he just stays silent. You laugh, then the air between you fades to silence again. This time, Jack moves your legs and stands.

“I’m gonna go to bed, too,” he says. “I bet Titty is waiting for you.”

“Yeah, probably.” You take Jack’s outstretched hand and he pulls you up. “He needs to wait sometimes. It keeps him humble.”

You’re walking towards the stairs and Jack gestures for you to go ahead. “You know, if you don’t hurry, he might fall asleep without you.” He follows you up the steps, footsteps quiet and sneaky like every other day.

“Always looking out for me,” you praise at the top of the stairs, at the fork in the road. Jack’s bedroom is to the left, near the shared bathroom, and Mattias’ is on the right. “See you in the morning, J.”

“Not if I see you first.”

You split up and you lightly knock on Mattias’ bedroom door before slipping through the crack he left open for you. You shed your sweats and pull on one of Mattias’ t-shirts, the one he wore earlier today. You crawl under the covers next to his warm body and he slings an arm over your waist to pull you closer.

“Good talk with Twos?” Mattias murmurs, his eyes closed and voice already drowsy. You hate how he can fall asleep so easily, but you love the scratchy quality his voice adopts late at night. It’s the best when his mouth is positioned right next to your ear and he’s telling you how tight you feel.

You have to shake the thought away. “Do you think Jack’s acting weird?” You ask, drawing an invisible line up his sternum, between his fleshy pecs that you love to poke until he flexes them and takes all his softness away.

Mattias snorts, laughing. “Of course he is,” he tells you. “He’s jealous.”

You lurch back, curling your lip and frowning up at Mattias. He blinks his eyes open to look down at you, mostly because of your movement and not because of what he said. He spoke like it was a known fact, that Jack was jealous.

“Of what?” You wonder.

“Of me, dude.” Mattias’ chest rumbles with the words and you tsk at the bro-y nickname. He continues on without acknowledging your distaste. “Jealous that I get to do this and he doesn’t.” He pushes your shirt up, cupping your breast and squeezing.

“No, he’s not,” you deny. “He’s never acted like that. It can’t be jealousy.”

Mattias chuckles. “It can and it is,” he insists. “You wanna know how I know?”

You’re stunned for a second by the glint in his hooded eyes and the way his teeth are barely biting down on his lower lip. He raises his eyebrows when you don’t respond, just a quick quirk that draws your attention.

You shrug, letting your eyes drift back to his lips. Usually, by now, you’ve kissed them. It’s getting harder to resist, especially when Mattias leans forward until you’re going cross-eyed to get an actual look at him.

“The other day, I was going to get a towel from the bathroom to clean you up after–” he fully bites his lip and winks. “– and I overheard a little something from Jack’s room. It sounded… oddly like your name, so I asked him about it.”

“You did not.”

“And after some pressing, he told me that he’d had a little crush on you last semester, but you were soooo nice that he never found the right time to make a move.” Mattias’ voice is hushed and teasing, smug like he’s bragging over another win in their video games. “And then you found your way to me.”

It’s a lot to process, but Mattias is leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your lips. When he releases you and gets comfortable again, the cogs are still turning in your head. His eyes are closed when you speak.

“Possessive much?”

Mattias trembles with a laugh, pulling you closer and bringing your leg over his hip. “Don’t need to be possessive. He doesn’t stand a chance when I’m fucking you.”

“Maybe he does– maybe you need to learn how to share,” you say, your tone twisting with the implication.

Mattias’ eyes flash open and his breath is no longer slow and consistent like it’s reaching for sleep. “What?”

“Maybe,” you repeat, touching your front teeth with the tip of your tongue for the added suspense. You cuddle into Mattias’ chest, your lips barely an inch from his, and continue. “You need to learn how to share.” You pull away and reveal your own smug, braggadocious smile, daring him.

Like you said– Jack had been your class crush first, way before you met Mattias.

“Are you serious?” Mattias asks, incredulous.

“Well, this is casual, isn’t it?” You tease. “It’s not like we’re exclusive. I’d love to see Jack’s face when I make a move on him if he’s so jealous of you, hm?”

Mattias frowns, about to say something, but you cut him off.

You tilt your head coyly and bat your eyelashes at him. “Or… well, nevermind.” You turn over in his arms and press your hips back against his lap.

“Or… what?” Mattias probes, his fingertips dancing across your stomach and the waistband of your panties. “You started that sentence, now you have to finish it. Those are the rules.”

“If you can’t bear to share me with Jack, maybe you should join us,” you say, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly. You’re faking the ease– the idea of having both Jack and Mattias in the same bed lights a fire between your legs unlike anything you’ve experienced before. “Make sure he’s doing it right…?”

You hoped that your words would set him off, knowing that despite his chill demeanor, Mattias is a perfectionist, a competitor, and a possessive partner. He’s bossy and dominant, positively eager to please and he loves to make sure that you’re feeling as content as possible in his bed.

“You want… both of us?” Mattias asks. You can practically hear him narrowing his eyes as he speaks. “Really? Am I not good enough for you?” His question grows teasing at the end, which is how you know he’s considering it.

“You love to rag on him during games,” you drawl, wiggling your hips against him. Mattias releases a groan as you do so, rubbing his fingers over the skin just above your waistband. His other hand sneaks under your body and up your shirt. He tweaks your nipple as means of ‘teaching you a lesson’ for grinding against him, but it only increases your ministrations. “Imagine, Ti, how much fun you’d have, showing him how good you are at making me come.”

The praise always gets him– always. Today is no different. As you roll your behind against his length, you can feel him growing. So, you keep talking.

“At making me whimper, at making me beg…” You lick your lips. “Wouldn’t you like to see me squirm under him, even though I’m moaning your name?”

“Jesus, fuck,” Mattias groans, untangling his arms from your figure and rolling off the bed. You turn to face him, pulling the covers up to your chest and smiling from ear to ear. You can see the bulge in his pants now that your eyes are well-adjusted to the darkness.

“Where are you going?” You ask, choking back a laugh. You’re delighted, but your stomach is rolling with the possibilities that the night holds. You know Mattias is going to get Jack, but you’re always a little bratty and sassy, so you can’t help yourself.

“Be right back,” Mattias promises before opening the bedroom door and slipping through it, disappearing down the hall and leaving you in the bed that smells like him.

In the time he’s gone, you’re at war with yourself– do you take his shirt off and speed things along, playing with your tits to give them a show when they return, or do you leave Mattias’ shirt on and allow Jack to take it off of you?

You decide on a mixture of the two– you push your shirt up just enough that your stomach is exposed. You can get a hand on yourself and you knead one of your breasts, allowing your fingers to tease circles around your nipple but never pinching or twisting it the way Mattias does.

You can hear him down the hall, rapping on Jack’s door and impatiently telling Jack to come to his bedroom. You can hear Jack, confused and frustrated that he has to get out of bed after getting comfortable. He follows Mattias’ directions– of course he does, he acts like Mattias hung the moon– and with each step closer to where you lay, you feel yourself growing damper and damper.

Your legs are spread under the covers, just wide enough that Mattias could climb between them if he chose to do so. It’s the normal position you assume when he leaves you alone. There’s very little that Mattias likes more than seeing you ready for him, inviting him in with your stretched limbs. The edge of the sheet lays just over the expanse of your hips, leaving plenty to be revealed when the boys burst in.

Mattias, ever the gentleman, opens the door for Jack and holds it open for him.

“Why am I–” Jack starts to ask, but then his eyes lock on you. “Oh.” He gawks for a second, allowing himself to enjoy the view, then catches himself. “What– what?” When he repeats himself, he turns to face Mattias, and it makes the taller boy laugh.

“Come on, Twos,” Mattias persuades, stepping through the doorway and passing Jack, who is planted in one spot like he’s rooted in a stone. Mattias clambers onto the bed, uncoordinated because of his size but somehow graceful in the way he settles next to you. He places his hand on your abdomen, pinky and ring finger brushing over the little bow on the front of your panties. He traces it absent-mindedly, staring at the boy who’s surprised and backlit from the hall light. You wish you could see his face better, especially when Mattias continues. “Time to live up to your nickname.”

His words plant a spark inside of you, one that only grows as he dips his fingers even lower. He traces over the wet spot that’s growing between your legs. Jack watches on– you can see his eyes move although you can’t make out the look on his face, and his presence draws a noise out of you. Then, you find your words– even as Mattias makes it harder with more insistent presses.

“Mattias said you never knew when the right time was to make your move,” you announce. “Now’s the time, Jack.”

He’s still rooted there. He even turns toward the door for a second, looking out into the hall like you’re talking to some other Jack that snuck into the house and wanted a threesome.

If you weren’t so desperate, you’d laugh.

“You heard her,” Mattias reinforces, calling Jack’s attention back to the sight in front of him. “Look how wet she is, Jack. She’s wet because she was thinking of you– well, and me, and what we could do with her.”

He’s too proud to attribute your wetness completely to Jack. Whereas you won’t laugh at Jack’s hesitation, you do roll your eyes at Mattias, which is an action that earns you a pinch on your clit. It’s equally as jarring as it is pleasureful and you’re reeling.

Jack’s posture changes in a way that you can’t describe– it’s incredulous, maybe? A little bit like he’s not sure if he’s in a dream, where he’s not sure if he can move or if he’s being tormented by a complete inability to do anything but watch.

He still doesn’t make a move and it’s bothering you– you want to insist and call out his name to get his attention, to make sure he’s not in another realm entirely. You open your mouth, planning to sound sharp and pointed, and as you start to speak, Mattias pets his thumb over your clit. Your glare becomes relaxed and your indignant “Jack” transforms into a wanton-sounding moan of his name.

It’s the complete opposite of what you described to Mattias earlier, but he doesn’t seem to care. Or maybe he’s letting it slide just this once, just because it serves its purpose all too well.

Jack finally takes a step forward. He lifts his foot and tugs at his sock, throwing it across the room, then doing the same with the other. He kicks the door closed behind him, putting you back into darkness and you pray for your eyes to adjust to the change faster. You want to see him. You need to know how his eyes look when he’s inches away from something he hoped for, but never quite received.

You want to see desperation on his face because you want to know that he feels the same way you do. With Mattias, you seldom see desperation. He’s all half-lidded eyes and gravelly words whispered as a means of caressing you further, overwhelming your senses in every way he can. You’re the one pulling at his clothes or scratching over his back, pleading for more.

Lucky for you, once Jack makes it to the edge of the bed, he can’t seem to keep his hands away from you. His fingers circle your ankle over the covers, his other hand pulling his shorts down until he’s just left in his underwear. At that point, he starts to shuffle his way up your body, walking on his knees. He’s straddling you, legs on either side of yours, palms sliding across your thighs, then hips, then waist.

You finally can see the look on his face. He’s memorizing you in a reverent way, like he can’t believe you’re real and he’s getting to touch you. His eyes search your skin for details that he can file away for later, his thumb brushing over a freckle that you had forgotten about as the breath leaves his lungs. He melts above you, the corners of his lips turning up in a giddy smile. He laughs for a moment to himself, barely expelling any air or sound when he does so. Then, his eyes finally meet yours.

His pupils are swollen, bigger than you’ve ever seen them. You hold eye contact for only a moment before Jack’s gaze drifts to your lips, where they stay. Once again, he hesitates. Your own eyes find his lips, plush and parted, glistening like he just licked them. You’re certainly not going to make another first move, having already moaned out Jack’s name without him even touching you– it’s his turn, you stubbornly decide.

But Jack is stubborn too, or maybe just that unsure of himself, because his hands are still the only point of contact between your bodies after what feels like an eternity.

Even Mattias tires of waiting. “For fuck’s sake,” Mattias scoffs. He rolls his eyes and takes his hand away from your panties, touching your chin and turning your head towards his. He kisses you instead of Jack, stealing your lips from the other boy because he can’t be bothered to let them remain untouched. He’s kissed you many times before, so his lips are sure against your own, his confidence making you sigh out and close your eyes.

You touch Mattias’ cheek with your fingertips, one hand still kneading your breast. As the feeling and sound of the kiss overwhelm your senses, Jack’s hands find your stomach. They run up to your ribs, then he nudges your hand aside. You don’t quite get it, lost in the way Mattias’ tongue feels against yours, so Jack covers your hand with his own. He traces the lines of your fingers with his, then settles his digits between the spaces of yours. With his other hand, he has free reign. He’s able to ghost over the smooth skin surrounding your pebbled nipple before touching the protrusion with a gentle flick of his index finger. You chase the motion, breaking away from Mattias’ mouth to look at the place where Jack’s hands lay.

He has exposed your chest now, pushed Mattias’ shirt up so far that it’s bunched up near your collarbones. He’s staring at your breasts like they’re the best thing he’s ever seen, like he’s never seen anything like them before and never will again. He takes your wrist and moves your hand so that it covers your belly button, sufficiently out of the way.

Mattias is still crowding your face with light kisses on your cheek and jaw, index finger tapping at the other side of your chin to call your lips back to his, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Jack’s hands and his mouth as it comes lower, sealing over the peak from which he just removed your fingers. His tongue flicks against the nipple the same way that his finger moves on your opposite side, creating competing sensations that work better together than they ever would apart.

Jack’s movements have you arching into him, your back leaving the bed enough for Mattias’ arm to weasel under you and tug you closer. He’s abandoned your chin, evidently giving up on getting your attention from his simple nudges.

Your usual partner is getting greedy and it shows– he’s petting over your core again with his long, delectable fingers. He shifts the crotch of your panties to the side just a bit, just enough that he can collect a bit of your slick on his middle two fingers. He returns his hand to your face, touching your lips with the wetness before you drop your jaw and he presses down on your tongue.

You suck his fingers greedily, knowing that this is just the first step to having him inside of you. You look to him for a moment, taking in the smile that barely clings to his face. He’s proud of you, praising you with just the glint in his eyes. It’s enough for you in that moment, so you look away– making the mistake of looking down at Jack.

His eyes are wide and piercing, staring up at you as he sucks on your tits. You release a soft moan, spurring him on. He pulls off of you and blows cool air against the wet patch of skin gracing your nipple, making it grow impossibly harder. You shudder as he switches to your other side. He focuses all his attention on drawing another noise out of you, hair falling over his forehead and tickling the skin of your chest where it lays. His eyes are closed, but his hair blocks your view.

Mattias seems to notice the same thing, pulling his fingers from your mouth and threading them through the strands dangling in front of Jack’s forehead to move them out of the way. He grips the hair tightly before he lets go, making Jack’s eyes open and look to him. A beat passes between the men, a look that makes you feel like, for a moment, you cease to exist underneath or beside them.

Then, Jack’s eyes flutter closed again and Mattias’ hand falls. He finds the waistband of your underwear, now soaked to the point that you’re sure they’re clinging to your folds. From this angle, with Jack on top of you, Mattias can’t get a good grip on the band to push the fabric down. You can feel his face contort with his thoughts and Jack is none the wiser, just enjoying his time attached to your nipples.

Mattias taps his shoulder, brows furrowed like he knows what he wants but he’s not sure if he’s overstepping. Jack’s eyes open and find the other man again, completely neutral. There’s an edge of expectancy in his movements with the way his tongue pauses its movements as he stares up at Mattias.

For someone so sure of himself in bed, Mattias sounds apprehensive when he speaks. He’s so used to ordering you around, bossing you because he knows that you’ll do whatever he asks, but Jack is new territory.

“If you like how her nipples taste, you should get your mouth on her cunt,” Mattias seems to suggest, even though you know that he’s not asking Jack to do so. He’s telling him to eat you out, to take your panties off and start to pleasure you.

Ripping a whine from you as he goes, Jack drops your nipple from his mouth and wipes along his bottom lip to break the line of spit connecting you. “You’d let me?” He asks, open-mouthed and breathing like he’s recovering from a run. His eyes are trained on Mattias and a thrill runs up your spine as soon as you realize that he’s asking the other boy for permission. You and Jack are more alike than you knew before.

It seems to click in the same moment for Mattias, who you’ve turned to face. His expression grows grave, even though he’s starting to smirk. “Yeah, I’d let you,” he says.

Jack’s fingers leave your torso and dig under the sides of your underwear, ready to tear them off of you with the fervor of a depraved man.

“But you have to beg,” Mattias adds, just before Jack can drag the fabric low enough to reveal your clit. The words rush out of him and Jack halts.

“Beg?” He asks.

Mattias lets out a little scoff. Your eyes bounce between them, back and forth as they bicker like you’re down in the kitchen making dinner and Jack wants chicken but Mattias wants steak. It’s perfect how easily you three fall into your roles, how simple it is to let your normal behavior leak into your bedroom.

“Yeah, beg,” Mattias affirms. He tilts his head to the side and mocks Jack, sticking his bottom lip out. “Come on, Twosey. You’re such a whiny bitch all the time, why should now be any different? You need to prove to us that you want it.”

“I want it,” Jack insists, pulling back with a knitted, offended brow. “You know I want it.”

“Oh, I know you want it,” Mattias says. “But she only just found out and I think you need to tell her how much you’re dying to be with her.”

As if he needs to remind Jack that you’re there, Mattias shifts on the bed so that you’re on display. His arm, which had been trapped under your waist once Jack’s mouth left your chest and you stopped arching into the smaller boy, pushes you up until you’re sitting. Mattias then sits behind you, his back against the headboard and your back against his bare, warm chest. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder comfortably, your temple meeting his cheek in this motion.

His cock, neglected for minutes upon minutes is achingly hard against your tailbone. You press back even further so the contact is snug– so that Mattias can have a little relief. No ulterior motive… despite the fact that you love to feel him straining against you.

Jack is still straddling your legs, your knees underneath him. He’s hovering above them and you can’t spread your legs to draw him in, a fact that leaves you frowning and humming to yourself. It makes his eyebrows quirk and causes Mattias to splay his hand over your stomach again, rubbing a soft circle on the skin and cooing in your ear.

“Don’t be impatient, baby, he’s still learning,” Mattias says, letting his eyes float back to Jack at the end of his sentence. You know the look that he’s giving Jack, even without seeing it: an impatient cut of the eyes, one raised eyebrow as if it’s a challenge, and he’s pressing his tongue against his teeth to signal that it’s time for Jack to relent or Mattias will have to do something about it himself. “It’s time, Quinn.”

Using his last name– things are getting serious.

Mattias pulls your shirt up, dragging it over your head. The loss of it means a few things– one, that Mattias’ scent is no longer covering you completely. He’s behind you, pressing against you, and you can smell him, but it’s not the same. Two, that you’re naked except for your sopping panties and Jack can see almost everything.

“I wanted him to do that,” you whine, pouting at Mattias. Your head is resting on his shoulder again, farther away this time so that you can look up at him from the side. You’ve got a great view of his nose and the curve of his lips, the curve that only tilts up more as he turns to face you.

Mattias presses a kiss to the corner of your pout and speaks like Jack isn’t there, like he’s not hovering inches from where you want him to be. “He hasn’t earned it, has he?”

The question is rhetorical and it spurs Jack into action. He pulls your panties down and slides off the bed so that he can remove them completely from your body. He holds them between his fingers like they’re a sacred object for which he should use gloves, standing at the edge of the bed. One of his knees rests on the mattress and you get an eyeful of his erection, covered by his underwear, but prominent nonetheless. Having seen it, and having been freed, you’re ready to kick your legs apart and beg him to come back.

Mattias, however, brackets your legs instead and uses his strong thighs to keep yours shut. You make an indignant groan, frowning at the man with a sharp look and he pinches your nipple, tweaking it slightly to put you in your place. You’re his, after all. Jack is just visiting. You’re only a slut for Mattias– Jack has to earn it.

“Go put those and her shirt in the laundry bin in my closet,” Mattias instructs. “Then, Jack, I believe you have some begging to do.”

The boy stands, lost and torn between wanting to preserve his dignity by fighting back against Mattias and wanting to succumb to his dominant commands so that he can get his mouth on you more quickly.

Mattias allows him to think it over for only a moment. “Go on,” he prods, encouraging the boy with a nod.

Jack takes a tentative step toward the closet, then another. He's just far enough away when Mattias returns to you.

He loosens his grip on your legs just slightly, enough that he can dip his hand into the space between your legs and offer you some much needed reprieve. “Look how well he listens with a little nudge,” Mattias murmurs before kissing your temple. “Now you have to be good for me, yeah? When he comes back, don't let him take your pussy so easily. Make him work for it. He’ll like that.”

“How do you know?” You question, looking up at him.

Mattias shrugs, jostling your head with the movement. He skims your entrance with the pad of one of his thick fingers, teasing you. “I just know,” he replies. He pushes his fingertip inside of you, starting to work it in and out but not opening you up– that privilege is something he’s awarding to Jack. “Just like how I know you.”

“Took you a while to get to know me,” you shoot back.

Across the room, Jack is looking in Mattias’ closet and trying to find his hamper. It’s in the back corner, hidden by some of his longer pants, so you’re not surprised that Jack is having trouble. It allows time for Mattias to focus on you, like a normal night, and you like that you get to have a moment alone with him. At the same time, it feels almost unfair that Jack is so far away.

Mattias chuckles at your attitude, his finger curling deep inside of you. You can feel the digit deftly rubbing against your insides, making you squirm. Mattias stills you by bringing his other hand up your body and lightly circling the base of your throat, squeezing it just slightly. “Know how much you like this,” Mattias tells you, whispering in your ear in a way that has goosebumps rising along your neck. “Didn’t take me too long to figure that out.”

Your eyes are forward, so you catch the moment that Jack finally turns around, having completed his task, and catches sight of Mattias’ hand around your throat and fingers between your legs. His mouth opens and his eyes widen, cheeks blushing into a flaming red.

“Good, Jack, c’mere,” Mattias says after a moment, finally lifting his eyes once he notices your distant stare. “Come lay down.”

Jack comes much easier this time, approaching the bed looking befuddled but eager. Mattias continues to pump his finger inside of you, although his hand drops from your throat. It finds your inner thigh and he spreads your legs for you, creating a space for Jack to lay. With one final parting thrust of his finger, Mattias pulls away and spreads your other leg even wider.

You’re fully on display now, folds parted from when Mattias spread them for his own greedy finger. You’re pristinely wet, barely needing Jack’s spit to mix with your own slick. Either of them could slide into you, fill you, without trouble. You almost want Jack to bypass Mattias’ plan and fuck you now, but there’s something about the way that Jack follows Mattias’ orders that makes you want to see how far things can go.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” Mattias goads, as if Jack’s eyes aren’t locked on your vagina already. “You’re so close to tasting it, Jack. All you have to do is convince her that you deserve it.”

Jack’s eyes snap to your face and you can tell that his desire has won out. He has no problem opening his mouth and starting to beg.

“Please,” he pleads. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

He’s dead-set on you now, crawling between your legs and tentatively touching your thigh. His hair is still messy, but it’s charming and out of his face and you kind of like that he’s a mess over how badly he wants to be with you.

“Tell me,” you reply, which earns you a hum of approval from Mattias and a soft pat to your hip. It’s not anything like his pointed spanks and swats, but you treasure it nonetheless. “Tell me what you’ve thought about.”

“It was like torture, having to listen to you down the hall. You sounded so pretty and I wanted to know what Sammy was doing to you to make you so loud. I wanted– I wanted to see,” Jack admits, losing his footing at the end of his sentence. His eyes flicker to Mattias’, then back to your face. “I never thought–”

“Now that you’re here, what are you going to do?” Mattias asks, interrupting the boy. “Tell her what you want to do to her. Tell her the things that you fucked your fist to, Twos.”

“This,” Jack groans, his eyes dropping to your core before coming back to your face. “Every time you moaned for him, I wondered if he was eating you out.”

Truth be told, eating you out wasn’t Mattias’ favorite thing to do. It came with the territory of his dominance– he much preferred to receive than to give, but it was never out of the realm of possibility. It was just a special treat, like when you looked especially beautiful one day or you had done something worth rewarding.

But hearing that it was the first thing on Jack’s mind whenever he overheard you– that has you running through endless scenarios and positions in your mind. With both of them, you’d be able to have everything, sometimes all at once.

Jack talks on. “Know you’d taste so good– wanted to taste you for myself. Practically came in my pants the first time I imagined you sitting on my face, Y/N. Being surrounded by you like that, having your thighs pressed over my ears because it was so good that you couldn’t help it… fuck, I need it. Please, I need it.”

“Not today,” Mattias says before you can nod. “Today, you have to do the work, buddy.”

Jack nods at that anyway, eyes gleaming and wild. “Anything– I just want a taste.”

Mattias nudges you, tapping your cheek with his nose. “Well?” He asks. “Can Jack have a taste?”

“Yeah,” you agree, eager and willing but unable to form any other words.

Like a stopwatch just began and Jack is finally on the clock, he jumps in. He’s laying flat on the bed between your legs, fingers already prodding at your hole while Mattias holds your legs apart for him.

Mattias is kissing over your neck, sucking over the pulse point on your left side when Jack’s lips close around your clit and mirror the sensation.

You’re not sure who to press into, who to arch against– you’re at war with your own mind and the sensations overtaking you, the ones overtaking you and controlling your movements like a puppeteer tied strings to your body.

Jack has his first two fingers inside of you, thrusting forward quickly like he can’t help himself. Mattias prefers to savor the moment when he’s fingering you, teasing you until you’re grinding against his digits and disobeying his orders to stay still because it’s just that good. While Mattias delays your orgasms in order to make the ultimate one more intense, Jack seems like he wants to bully your erogenous zones until you’re coming, and coming, and coming again. He wants you to come fast and he wants it often.

It’s a mindfuck, leaving you shaking underneath him as he flicks his tongue against your clit like a doorstopper pulled all the way to one side then released, vibrating back and forth like a metronome set to a rapid pace. You feel like you’re in a scene in a movie where you’re falling down a black hole and all you can hear is the pounding of your heart, growing more and more rapid.

Breaking the spiral is Mattias’ voice.

“No, Jack,” he says with a frown. One of his hands leaves your tits, the cool air hitting your sensitive nipples like a flinch. He grabs Jack’s hair, grips it so tightly that his knuckles seem to turn white– or maybe you’re just imagining things in your lustful haze– and he drags the boy’s mouth to a stop. “Slower. Don’t waste your only chance.”

You blink, clearing your clouded eyes to protest the “only chance” thing, but you lose your breath when you catch sight of the way Jack’s mouth hangs open with each tug of Mattias’ hand. Mattias practically shoves Jack’s face against your cunt, his tongue sliding over your folds and entrance like he’s lost control of the muscle. You wonder for a second if he’s hurting, but then Jack moans as Mattias positions his mouth over your clit and he latches on like the bud is the tip of a straw and he’s dying of thirst.

His eyes flutter, as do yours, and you know Mattias is grinning. Jack is like putty in his hands, moving wherever Mattias wants him to go. You’re suddenly aware that your hands are at your sides lamely, doing nothing at all, and you reach for Jack’s hair too like a natural instinct.

“Ah,” Mattias reprimands, dropping his grasp on your other tit and catching your wrists. “No touching, baby. Just sit back and relax and take what we’re giving you.” He holds both your wrists securely in his hands, keeping them still against your ribcage. He’s still pulling Jack’s hair, grinding his face against your slit, and it’s really Jack’s willingness to move wherever Mattias wants him that has you moaning.

It’s impossible not to grind against Jack’s face, though Mattias makes it hard for you to take charge of your own pleasure.

Nonetheless, you persist. The sounds that emit from Jack spur you on. They’re messy and pornographic, all kinds of sucking and groaning and slurping that would normally turn you off, but his desperation drives you crazy.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach that point, jaw dropping at the penultimate moment. Your head tips back on Mattias’ shoulder, eyes seeking his and finding them already fixed on your face, monitoring you.

“Gonna come,” you choke out, staring at the boy. “Ti–”

“You can,” he says. “He’s been waiting for you to come all over his tongue for months. Go ahead and give him his reward for being so patient, yeah?”

You feel shaky and spent as your first orgasm washes over you, noting in a passing moment that there’s so much more in store for you. There’s at least two or three more coming because Mattias seems to have endless faith in you and infinite ideas, able to do much more now that he has a partner to assist him in his ministrations.

Rather, he has someone else to boss around.

You collapse against Mattias’ strong chest, heaving out heavy breaths as Jack laps up your cum like it’s the best delicacy in the world. He’s languid, conscious of your recovery, and Mattias loosens his grip on the boy’s hair to soothe you as you come down. He pulls your hair out of your face, twisting the strands between his fingers. He speaks softly into your ear, murmuring things that you can’t really decipher because of the force of your climax, but his soothing tone calms you nonetheless.

Once your breath is steady, Mattias beckons Jack up from his place on the bed.

“Think you’ve earned a kiss,” Mattias says to Jack with a small shrug. He taps your shoulder with his thumb. “What do you say? Wanna give Twos a little kiss for all his hard work?”

You’re nodding, eyes lidded. Jack’s face is flushed and his lips are covered in clear, liquidy mess that drips down onto his chin. He’s absolutely gorgeous and you just want to pull him in and snuggle him forever, putting him in your pocket and carrying him around so that you don’t have to part with him.

He’s got that stupid look on his face still, but it’s different this time, like he’s growing cloudy in the head because he’s drunk off of the taste of your pussy and Mattias’ direction. He doesn’t hesitate anymore, but he moves slowly, as if time is passing differently for him.

Your first kiss with Jack is sweet, a joining of lips where you place a hand on Jack’s cheek and feel him underneath your palm. He’s hot and a little sweaty from the heat of the moment. The room is stifling with the smell of your arousal, but it could just be like that because you can taste yourself on Jack’s skin. You’re drinking him in all the same, keeping him close even as your lips part for a breath and come back together.

Mattias grinds his clothed cock against your backside while Jack kisses you, making you part from the smaller boy with a small gasp. Mattias turns your head to his, capturing your tingling lips in a more heated exchange, making all of your neurons fire in the best way. He slides his tongue into your mouth, then pulls back, leaving you boneless against him.

You watch as Mattias and Jack look at each other for a moment too long. Mattias lets his signature smile overtake his face, then he winks at the smaller boy. Jack turns red and looks away.

The hard length against your tailbone catches your attention. You grind back against him, capturing Mattias’ attention.

“Aww, baby,” Mattias mutters softly. “Did you think I was feeling left out?”

“Can feel how hard you are,” you reply. “Wanna make you come.”

“You wanna make me come,” Mattias repeats, lips quirked. “How about I give you something to occupy your mouth with, huh?”

You’re nodding, already shifting on his lap to turn your back to Jack and bend down to mouth over Mattias’ boxers. His big paw covers your hair, bundling your locks on the back of your head in a messy knot.

“So needy,” he berates, sounding like he’s scolding you although you know he’s pleased. “Can’t even give me time to take my pants off?”

Your knees are bent underneath you, spread wide enough that you can rock forwards and backwards easily. You’re conscious of Jack behind you, especially when you look up at Mattias and find that he’s staring past you.

“You can touch her,” Mattias says to the other boy. “Look how she’s presented right in front of you. Touch her, Jack. Give her another one.”

You’re still mouthing over Mattias’ clothed cock, sucking at the tip through the fabric and soaking it with your spit. He’s guiding you with his hand, pushing you lower until you’re licking over the curve of his balls, your nose tucked into the space where his thigh meets his groin. It should feel humiliating, to be forced to stay here and bring him pleasure, but you’re still reeling from the high of your orgasm and you’re unabashed knowing that your only audience is Mattias– who is a nonissue given how many times he’s fucked your face– and Jack, who is currently tracing his tongue over your slit from behind.

“Okay,” Mattias relents, patting the top of your head until you pull away. He draws his boxers down his legs and you moan, sagging back down when Jack’s finger finds your hole and starts to press into you again.

He’s bare beneath you now, the only scrap of clothing shared between the three of you being Jack’s boxers. It’s another reason why he’s the third wheel, the odd one out, even though you’d rather die than have him feel that way. You hope that he’s not thinking that, that he’s too preoccupied with your pussy and how the wetness drips down his wrist to wonder about the dynamic of this relationship.

“Twos,” Mattias calls, earning a hum from the other boy. Mattias occupies you with his cock, bringing your mouth to his tip and fitting your lips over it. You’re lax beneath him, allowing him to move your head up and down for his own pleasure. You let him use you as a toy, almost, unwilling to draw attention to yourself when Mattias is speaking with Jack.

“What?” Jack asks, his tone not as respectful as you’re accustomed to speaking with when it comes to Mattias. You make a noise of discontent around Mattias’ cock at Jack’s question, but Mattias pets over your cheek to quiet you.

“If you make her come before I do, I’ll let you fuck her,” Mattias says. “But you ought to know– she’s good with her mouth.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, he sets off, fisting your hair and using it like reins to guide your bobbing. He tilts his hips forward even as he lifts and lowers your head, battering and abusing the back of your throat once he thrusts deep enough.

Jack has pushed a second finger into your heat, pushing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. He’s desperate to make you come a second time, to drag another climax from your writhing body, just so that he can get some release on his cock. You know that it’s aching, that he’s pulsing in his shorts and dripping everywhere, so turned on that he can only just stave off his own orgasm.

His fingers flex inside of you, curling and plunging inside of you with emphatic zeal. Mattias fills you from the front, your spit pooling around the base of his cock. He shoves you down, making you gag around him, your throat constricting in a satisfactory way around his thick shaft. He shakes your head, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his pubic bone as you deepthroat him.

“You close?” Mattias asks, pointedly looking down at you. He waits until you meet his eyes to draw out and thrust into your mouth again, harsh and delectable. A batch of tears start to appear on your waterline from the effort and they spill over as you stare up at Mattias, his glowering eyes locked on the way you’re dripping around him. If it’s not your spit leaking from your mouth, it’s the drops leaking from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks– and Mattias finds it impossible not to fuck into you harder seeing both of your reactions to his dick.

You hum around him, trying to nod to answer him, but the hand on the back of your head will not allow it. The added vibrations on his dick have him chasing the pleasure.

“Keep doing that,” Mattias groans. “Let me feel you moan, baby.”

The floodgates open, Mattias’ permission and Jack’s talented fingers pulling noise after noise from your body. You grip Jack’s fingers, rolling your hips as best you can while struggling to fit Mattias’ length in your mouth. You’re gagging as you breathe, which leaves your noises choked and beautiful when they fall on Mattias’ ears.

You’re just about to come, just about to wash Jack’s fingers with your slick, when Mattias’ seed spills down the back of your throat and all your focus shifts to lapping it up and swallowing it. Irrationally, you can feel his hot cum sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach, filling you up in your second-favorite way.

“Pull out,” Mattias commands, grinding his teeth as you continue to worship his cock. You ignore him because you know his words aren’t directed at you. “Jack. Pull out. You lost.”

“I want to make her come,” Jack insists, talking back to Mattias in a tone that has you writhing with discomfort.

“Pull out,” Mattias repeats, voice dark. “Or you’re never touching her again.”

Jack stills inside you.

“I mean it,” Mattias continues. “Pull out or I will make sure that you never touch her again.”

Jack draws his fingers out, speechless as Mattias monitors his movements. You watch as Mattias nods, the only sign of his approval, expression stony. He draws you up, kissing your forehead with his eyes still fixed on Jack’s. It’s a fuck you, once again flaunting his dominance over Jack. Mattias makes his way out from behind you, standing from the bed and grabbing you by your ankles to tug you to the edge of the bed.

He bends you over, glowering at the smaller boy who is watching his every move. He pushes your face into the mattress roughly, then releases you. You clench at the bedsheets. Mattias kicks your legs apart, dropping a loud slap onto the globes of your ass as he glares at Jack.

Then, he points to the headboard, far away from where you lay. You can just barely see his finger when you look up, eyes straining to catch him in your peripheral vision. “You, there,” Mattias orders. To you, he says, “You. Stay.”

You wouldn’t even dare disobey him as his warmth leaves the area behind you. Your skin still stings from his spank, your legs a little shaky from being so close to orgasm and having it ripped away. You feel like you could set off at any moment, only seconds from bursting.

You can hear Mattias moving, opening his closet and rifling through something. A thrill shoots up your spine, praying that he’s searching for what you think he’s searching for– a shoebox filled with condoms, ones that you stopped using ages ago, and your spare vibrator that Mattias took as his own.

It won’t be the first time he’s used it on you, but the fact that Jack will be watching– oh, this will be quick.

Mattias returns, silently, and you feel a bit like prey drinking from a watering hole with a lion stalking you. His hand finds you, smoothing over your skin. The other holds the silicon toy against your skin, tapping you. He slides his fingers down to dip into your cunt, testing how open you are. He hums and you can’t see him, but you can see Jack.

You can see how Jack pales, how his dick twitches in his underwear when Mattias draws his fingers out and hums as he slurps at the slick gathered on his digits.

“Mm,” Mattias says. “So sweet.”

Jack rolls his head to the side with a slight frown on his face, pleading with his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Mattias chastises. “Take your punishment like a good boy.”

That makes you moan, hearing Mattias speak to Jack the same way that he speaks to you. It makes him chuckle and tap your hip. You lift up, baring yourself, and Mattias fills you with the toy before he turns it on. It buzzes to life and prompts a quiet yelp before you bury your face into the mattress.

Mattias places his hand on the edge of the toy and starts to move it inside of you. The vibrating tip buzzes in increments inside of you, out of time with Mattias’ manual thrusts in another sensation that has you unsure if you should lean into it or try to escape it. The small ridge that slides over your clit buzzes constantly– inclining you to lean into the toy.

Your hips rise and fall in wonky little circles, trying to meet Mattias’ movements as they go, but you’re always half a second behind.

“Ti,” You plead, begging for more contact.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes flicker between your hole and Jack’s frozen expression. He licks his lips as the bright toy disappears into you as you writhe. He tilts his head when he catches Jack’s hand palming his own cock.

Mattias considers it, then speaks. “Wanna hear me talk Twosey off, baby?” He asks you. “Will that get you far enough?”

“Ti,” you repeat, shaking underneath him. Your voice breaks a little as your body jerks.

“One more, Y/N,” Mattias encourages, his hand pumping between your legs consistently. “One more, he repeats, drawing the word out like the words can draw the orgasm out of you on their own. “Need you to give me something pretty for Jack to look at while he milks himself dry.”

Mattias smiles at the boy, devilish. Jack gulps, swallowing hard.

“Let me see it,” Mattias urges. “Show me how hard my girl makes you. Show me how bad you wanted this, even though it’s mine.”

You cry out under Mattias, stomping against the ground. You need him to stop talking like this because you swear you could die right in this moment.

Jack feels similarly, whimpering and inching his underpants down his thighs. He’s got a hand on his cock, squeezing the base to hold off. He can’t seem to decide where to look– at you or at Mattias– at the way Mattias’ hands flex when he pushes the toy into you or at the way your eyes gaze at Jack with pure admiration.

“Maybe give my girl something pretty to look at, Jack,” Mattias suggests. “Maybe that’s what’ll send her over the edge.”

“Fuck–” Jack curses, his head falling back when he slides his thumb over his tip.

The dynamic seems to fit into place immediately. Whereas Jack assumed it would be like a love triangle, with him and Mattias vying for your attention, he realizes now that you’re all vying for each others’ attention.

He looks at Mattias, Mattias looks at you, and you look at Jack. It reverses and turns on its head and pulses like a 3D movie without glasses. He’s so overwhelmed that he feels like he’s seeing shapes as he comes all over his hand, unable to handle the stimulation.

Mattias chuckles, proud of himself, and refocuses on your body and the toy inside you. He switches to the next setting, a quick and never ending buzz inside of you. You fuck back on the toy desperately, finally catching his rhythm. You can’t take any more denial and you stammer out a high-pitched warning to Mattias.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder.

You come, hard. Your vision goes white and starry with the orgasm.

Mattias walks you through it, murmuring softly as he grounds you with his sweet kisses on your skin. “Go get a towel, Jack,” Mattias mutters, reaching up to pat the boy’s ankle in a sign of invitation. “Come help me clean her up. Then we can go to bed, and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“We– we don’t have to talk about it,” Jack stammers, afraid of what that means. He can’t risk not being invited back into this bed now that he’s had a taste.

“Don’t worry.” Mattias reaches over and squeezes Jack’s cheeks between his fingers, giving his head a little shake. “We’re going to do this again, Twos. You did really good.”

Jack lets out a sigh of relief and goes to grab a towel from down the hall, leaving you and Mattias alone.

He kisses your eyelids, which are drifting closed as you come back completely. “So good, Ti,” you echo. “Perfect.”

Mattias chuckles, kissing your lips sweetly. “Anything for my girl.”

notes: first threesome in the books! also it's my sister's bday. hi sister. i hope she never reads this. also also: stg chapter 6 will be my next release (hopefully!) so i'll see y'all then <3

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mariaxman · 3 months ago

Text

PIETRO MAXIMOFF X READER

Resume: you made a bet with Jean, when you’d ask Peter out he’d turn you down. Easy made 50 bucks, right! Exept he beats you to the punch..

A/N: I really love this, I love the cliché of kissing in a Ferris wheel sm AHHH:33!!

Charles Xavier’s school for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester,1974.

The summer breeze hit your skin like a bird’s feather, soft and gentle, as you stood outside of the institute. A year ago, a man from the future named Logan came and knocked on the door, claiming he needed the professor to save the world from ‘sentinels’, some anti-mutant, killer robots. You were 15 at the time, already having mastered your mutation, came along with them to give a hand. That, is when you met Peter. As requested you had to break out Magneto from the pentagon, and Logan ‘knew a guy’. He was JUST your type. Sure, he was a kleptomaniac and all, but god was he handsome, and a charming in his own very-weird-way. Though, it didn’t last long, as he went home the moment you stepped out the pentagon, Magneto in hand . You never forgot the handsome speedster, even ten whole years later. Sure, it was kind pathetic. But hey! Can you blame a gal? He was flirting with you the whole time AND WINKED AT YOU WHEN YOU EMBARKED THE JET BACK, of course you fell for him!

Charles Xavier’s school for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester, 1983

You never thought you’d ever see him again. Like, ever. But hey, fate works in a strange way. One second you were standing next to Beast as Havok wrecked shit, the next you landed surprisingly gently on the grass outside as the Institute blew up. You were dizzy and felt like you were about to blow chunks. Nevertheless, you stood back up on shaky legs and just stared at the mansion with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, not even noticing the speedster standing riiiighht next to you, staring intensely. Until he said a simple ‘hey’ and you yelped embarrassingly loud for a qualified X-woman. Atleast he laughed! Then you were kidnapped by.. what was their name? Oh well, then you escaped, fought apocalypse, Charles lost his hair, which is VERY pertinent, I know. And, well, you were back at the mansion soon enough, students were sat outside on lawn, huddled up as, mind you, it was totally broken down and needed SERIOUS repair. Which leads us to here, you and your friends(who are literally all teens which is.. yeah) went to the mall to pass time and buy new clothes after losing all of the old ones in the explosion, an activity you loved doing with Jean and Jubilee.. until now. You were browsing a store with said girls, grabbing a top, you held it infront of you.

‘’Is this cute?’’

You ask Jubilee, the top was simple in itself, a baby blue tank top with an embroidered yellow lightning bolt. It kinda reminded you of Peter..

‘’Yeah, that is really cute, BUT-‘’

Jubs says and snatches the top, putting it in your basket

‘’WHEN are you gonna make your move on Peter?!’’

The girls asks eagerly. Your cheeks immediately burn up in embarrassment

‘’make a move on him? W-what are you talking about?!’’

you chuckle nervously, looking away at the clothing racks. Jean chuckles from behind you, which startles you, just a little bit

‘’Come on now, Y/N. You definitely love him, you did since… 1973! C’mon!’’

The redhead exclaims, in the middle of the store, catching a lot more attention than your liking. Goddam telepath. You didn’t know what to say, really. You definitely wanted to date him, more than anything! But you just felt like Peter didn’t feel the same

‘’Okay, okay! Y’know what? I’ll tell him tonight, at the fair! But I bet you 50 bucks he doesn’t even like me a little bit!’’

You say as you walk to the cashier. Jean shoots Jubilee a look. ‘HE IS LITERALLY HEAD OVER HEELS FOR HER, GUESS IM WINNING 50 BUCKS’ she tells the other girl telepathically, which makes her vibrate with a giggle.

Now, at the fair, you were scared shitless. You made a promise, you gotta keep it now, huh? You’re sure Peter‘ll be sweet if he rejects you, yeah! You sigh, snapped out your thoughts when Jean and Jubilee dragged you to an attraction, giggling the whole way, which left Scott and Peter alone. The former elbows Pietro in the ribs, hard

‘’So, when are you finally gonna ask her out?’’

Scott teases, that irritated smirk on his face

‘’What? Pssfghhsss- what are you talkin’ bout?’’

the silver-haired man plays dumb, shoving his hands in the pocket of his silver jacket

‘’C’mon, dude. I know you like her— you’re literally staring her as we speak!’’

Oh, yeah, he was… it wasn’t his fault you were so gorgeous, for Christ sake! You were literally his dream girl come true, can you blame him?

‘’Okay, yeah, maybe I do like her a little. But she has great taste in music and a bitchin’ haircut! And.. pretty eyes’’

He mumbles the last part as he watched you settle in right between Jean and Jubs in the attraction, laughing your head off at something Jubilee said. God were you pretty

‘’Dude, I see the world trough a red visor and even I can see it’s definitely more than ‘liking’’’

Scott huffs, crossing his arms and looking ahead

‘’You should win her a prize, y’know, a plushie’’

The brunette shrugs. Yeah, he was right, he should

‘’Mh.. maybe I will’’

Peter grins. A few minutes later, the ride end and you stumble out with the other two, using Jubilee as support as you giggle, totally dizzy and giddy

‘’You’re not gonna throw up, are you?’’

Jubs quizzes and you shake your head no. Phew, that’d be embarrassing. You all continue walking as a group until Jean drags Scott over to the game booths. Scott grin in Peter’s direction in a ‘you go dude!’ Fashion. Jubilee catches on and lean closer to you

‘’I’m gonna go grab us a coke, okay’’

She pats your back and speed walks away before you can even turn around, leaving you with Peter. An awkward silence fall between you two until he speaks up

‘’hey, princess, want me to win you a prize? I’m pretty damn good at that game over there’’

He grins in his usual boyish manne— PRINCESS?? That was new, wow, why did that make butterfly flutter in your stomach..

You nod quickly with flushed cheeks and follow him when he grabs your hand and drags you to the booth. The game was easy, pop 10 balloons in one go and win a plushie. Easy enough. Peter walks up and pays the bored worker, who just hands him the 10 darts with a poker face. Shit job, huh. Surprisingly, he didn’t use his mutation. Which is pretty good considering the setting. He picks up a dart and shoot. POP, one balloon down. POP, two. POP. POP. POP. POP. POP. POP. POP. POP. Yay! Free plushie, considering-all-the-ones-you-had-got-Fucking-cremated! You giggle and jump on the ball of you feet as Pietro gets handed the big stuffed snow leopard plush. He turns to you and hands it over

‘’There you go, N/N’’

He grins when you hug him tightly

‘’Thank you Pietro!’’

You pull back and turn around when you hear your name, running over to Jubilee with two bottles of coke in hand. She raises an eyebrow at you then look over at Peter, giving him a proud thumbs up and a wink of approval. Which— to him — was a little perculiar, but honestly… you wouldn’t expect less from a girl name jubilation. Jean and Scott arrived back themselves a few minutes later, empty handed. Scott shrugged, his excuse being that his visor was at fault. Though Jean whispered that he just sucked ass at the games. You continued walking around the park, going on rides, when 23:00 hit. Many people left but you decided to do one more ride, the Ferris wheel. You still had an hour before it closed, so why not? You all went in the line, and when it was your turn, the teen boy there let Jubilee, Scott and Jean in a carrier, but told you to wait for the next one because the people limit was 3. So now, you were stuck, alone with Peter. Your crush for the past TEN FUCKING YEARS! Great. You took a quiet, deep breath and slipped in the carrier next to Peter, setting your plushie on the seat across from you both.

‘’Hey’’

The speedster jokes, grinning ear to ear. You smile back, resting your chin on your knees

‘’Hi’’

You look to your right when the Ferris wheel starts moving. You had the view on the lake beside the fair, where fireworks’ll be lit in a few minutes

‘’So, enjoyed your night, N/N?’’

He asks, cocking his head to the side

‘’Yeah, I loved it. Thanks for winning me a plushie too’’

You grin at him, full teeth, eyes scrunched and lit by the moonlight

‘’Hey, nothing less for my favorite friend’’

You laugh and continue talking, the wheel slowly moving your carrier up and up until it stops, right at the top. As if planned, fireworks goes off and you shoot around, smile as wide as your eyes as you stare out the glass at the colorful beam of light, reflecting on your face. But Peter’s stuck, stuck staring at you in awe. You looked absolutely gorgeous. He couldn’t look away, not that he wanted to

‘’It’s so.. Beautiful!’’

You chirp in amazement

‘’ Yeah.. gorgeous, even’’

Peter mumbled, still very much looking at you. You turn to look at him with a crooked grin and a raised eyebrow

‘’You good, dud—!’’ Peter cut you off by grabbing your cheeks and leaping foward, pressing his lips to your so gently. You froze, arms to your side until you brain fully apprehended what happened. Peter kissed you… PETER KISSED YOU!! You melt against him, arms coming up to rest your hands on his gently, smiling into the kiss. You were content, stretch that, you were ecstatic! Even when he pulled away, and.. whooped, huh. Strange way to react to your first kiss with a girl.. why did you find that cute? You laughed aloud, along with him. He swept you in a one armed hug

‘’That was the best decision I’ve made ALL NIGHT, woo’’

He chuckled and squeezed you against his lovingly, silence falling between the two of you until the end of the ride.

When you stepped out you were greeted by your three friends waiting for you, Jean grinned and looked over at Jubilee, who’s jaw dropped. You glance at Peter to find a lipstick mark over his lip. You snort and quickly join the girls while Pietro joins Scott, who’s deliberately holding back laughter, much to Peter’s confusion. As you’re walking out the fair, Jean leans in and whispers;

‘’You owe me 50 bucks’’

#pietro maximoff #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #cheesy fic #fluff #marvel #x men #jean grey #jubilee #jubilation lee #scott summers #cyclops #x men days of future past #x men apocalypse

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blue-grama · 10 months ago

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Aof Noppharnach, carelessness & living with yourself after the worst has happened

I'm doing a late-to-the-party catchup on Aof Noppharnach's work after falling in love with Moonlight Chicken, and this isn't a unique observation or anything, but I'm really in love with his preoccupation with how people pick up the pieces and move forward after the worst thing happens.

The conversation between Day and his dad about Night's guilt over putting Day in the position to get into his accident is in the same territory of what Tian is going through in A Tale of 1000 Stars. Neither Tian nor Night were directly responsible for what happened -- Aof doesn't seem to go in for cut-and-dried villians -- but they both feel culpable. And, most interestingly, both were simply careless. Neither meant for harm to come to anyone. If they'd been a little luckier, none would have. But they weren't and now they have to grapple with how to come back from that moment. For Jim, it's a little different. Jim wasn't careless, but he let Beam get on that ferry in the midst of a fight. Later, he regrets that choice, because if he'd insisted Beam stay and fight it out, Beam wouldn't have died -- another unfixable choice that, with better luck and more time, might have been fixed. (And another choice that lives in a gray area, because it wasn't fully Jim's choice. But in Beam's absence, who else can he blame?) Even Bad Buddy is about this in some ways - what Ming did to Pran's mom is the original wound that echoes down the generations. In that case, Ming doesn't make any attempt at amends, Dissaya can't let go, and the two families get stuck in a permanent feud. It takes a new generation to untwist that particular snarl.

And then there's the other theme that's pretty prominant in what I've seen of Aof's work so far, which is "I thought I had more time." Last Twilight's been deep into that theme, between Rung's suicide and Day's progressive loss of vision. It shows up in ATOTS with Tian granted new life after he stopped planning for the future, and it shows up in Moonlight Chicken's multiple stories of loss. In many ways, they're the same theme in different flavors. How do you move forward when something's unfixable? When the worst has happened and you can't erase it? When time is up? Ming and Dissaya dig in. Tian tries to live someone else's life. Jim walls himself off, becoming the person everyone leans on, but never becoming vulnerable to someone else. Day locks himself in his room. Night tries to be the big brother he should have been.

But life and Aof Nopparnach have a way of challenging those coping mechanisms. Tian has to make his own choices and find his own way forward. Jim has to open himself up to the possibility of happiness again because he can't actually be there for everyone without intimacy (see how Wen helps him understand Li Ming). Day has to come to terms with his new reality. As for Night, we'll see. Day is interpreting his efforts in the worst possible light, but that conversation with their Dad may have put a crack in the armor. Would getting Day's forgiveness help Night forgive himself? Can he forgive himself if Day never does?

It's never clear-cut and the struggle is always in both repairing connections to the community and reparing your own self-perception. In Aof's works, you've got to do the work to change, yes, but self-sacrifice isn't ever enough, nor is it effective: You've got to see yourself as forgivable, too.

#last twilight the series #moonlight chicken the series #a tale of 1000 stars #bad buddy #aof noppharnach #posts that happen when you accidentally do a deep dive on something #it may not be good for the psyche to watch this many aof series in close proximity

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carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich · 10 months ago

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Diaboy Yandere Quiz Results

So if you haven't taken my "which one of the diabolik lovers boys would go yandere for you?" quiz, you might want to do that before reading the rest of this post. If you have taken the quiz and are curious as to what the other results are like but don't want to retake said quiz 14 times, then this post is for you! Below the cut are the yandere!diaboy x reader drabbles for every diaboy + Karl that I wrote for the quiz.

Quick warning: These drabbles feature dark content including themes of imprisonment, torture, blackmail and stalking.

Combined these results have a total word count of 3.4k :') If you enjoy them, let me know which one is your favourite!

Shuu

You’re crying again. You’re not being loud about it but from where you’re currently splayed half on top of him—the heat of you warming his bones in lieu of the fireplace he refuses to light—it would be impossible for him not to notice the faint trembling of your body and the growing wet patch on his shoulder. There isn’t any point in saying much when you’re like this, which is somewhat ironic when you’re the only person he’d even consider putting the effort in for. Instead he shifts slightly, moving his arm over you so you’re more securely held against him while the other slips out one of his earbuds and places it into your ear instead. He’s not stupid, he knew what dragging you to the other side of the world—far away from everything you’d ever known—would do to you, but if he’s honest with himself he’d do it again in a heartbeat. It was your own fault, in a way, for making him care, for making the fear when he saw the way Reiji looked at you sharp enough to cut through the numbness he’d lived with for so long. Yes, it was you who’d sought him out in the first place, so no matter how miserable you might be now, you only had yourself to blame.

Reiji

The tea in your cup is poisoned. You’re sure of it, even without the faint bitterness tainting the delicate aroma, you can tell from the look in Reiji’s eyes alone—you’ve seen it often enough. The question is what concoction he’s prepared for you this time; whether he’s decided he’d rather you be numb and pliant or feverish with want. Still, you do not break your composure, remaining the image of grace as you lift the cup to your mouth. The tight corset your captor has forced upon is not nearly as constricting as the way he watches you, his own cup left ignored on the table. Months ago you’d have scoffed at the idea of someone willing drinking poisoned tea, but now you are aware the consequences if you do not will be far worse than whatever toxins he’s prepared for you. He won’t kill you, you don’t think, not when the way he looks at you can only be described as obsessive. You used to think it came from his desire to mold you into his ideal of a perfect partner, but now you’re not so sure. Sometimes, when you catch him watching you while you’re supposed to be asleep, you wonder if just maybe he simply wants you. A pity for him then, that no matter how many restraints he binds you with or drugs he pours down your throat, you will ensure your heart remains forever out of his reach.

Ayato

Blood always tastes at its best when the person being drunk from enjoys it. It’s something Ayato figured out after the old bastard let them loose in the human world, the occasional sacrificial bride being ferried in to keep them from causing enough trouble to attract unwanted attention. But no blood has ever tasted as sweet as yours when you’re pinned down beneath him, whimpering in the ecstasy of having your lifeblood drained away and mixing with his. He draws away only briefly to take note of your expression, eyes screwed up with tears of pleasure brewing at the corners. You look amazing like this, even better than you had in the cute little cheerleading outfit you’d worn to school sports games, back before he’d had his first taste of you. You’d screamed the first time, your usual bright enthusiasm falling off your features as you’d realized what he was. And yet you’d still come to your practice the very next day, a brightly coloured band-aid on your neck to hide the marks. When he’d come back for a second bite, you’d only struggled a little—enough to keep things interesting, but not so much that you could fool him into thinking you were actually trying to get away. No, you want to be here, he’s certain of it, and he’s generous enough to keep you.

Kanato

You’re alone again today. Sitting perfectly still, empty bento box in your lap, eyes shut as you listen to a soft melodic tune through your headphones. You look lovely like this, the moonlight filtering through the window painting the planes of your face a silvery hue. It's only the fact you look so peaceful—almost like one of his wax dolls—that keeps Kanato from tearing your headphones away. He will, once he's had enough of watching you like this, and he knows from your previous encounters that the wide-eyed expression you’ll make is almost as good as the one you wear now. The still healing marks from his fangs peek out from the collar of your white school shirt and the corner of his lips twist. You’ve not told any of your schoolmates of any of your encounters, he’s certain of it from how closely he’s been watching you. If anything, you’ve isolated yourself even further than you already were, only briefly exchanging pleasantries in that barely there voice of yours he’s grown so fond of. The air stirs faintly, a gentle breeze through a cracked open window, and you open your eyes. The fear is immediate as you take in his face, close enough to yours that you should have been able to feel his breath—if he had any need to breathe. He does now, to take in the scent of your terror, and it is oh so very sweet.

Laito

Laito has broken so many mortal things, he’s long since lost count. He can’t even remember what all of them looked like, but he does remember the expressions on their faces in their final moments—fervent devotion, desperation and sometimes just pure madness. You, however, he’s had for months, and yet the light has yet to fade from your eyes despite his very best efforts. Sometimes you even look at him with pity—likely due to what you’ve put together of his history from the scraps of it scattered over the manor—though those days have grown less frequently since he made your move to his room a permanent affair. Now when you look at him, it’s mostly filled with a hatred that burns brighter than any emotion he’s ever had from his other lovers. It’s intoxicating, more so than even your blood. Laito’s not sure when exactly he stopped wanting anyone else to see it—or when he stopped wanting anything else for that matter. He thinks you feel the same way, that you’d like nothing more than to see him dead, enough that it keeps the spark inside of you burning bright. You’d confessed to believing in love once in the early days and he’d laughed at you for it. Even now the memory makes him scoff, for the love you spoke of that day could never possibly compare to this.

Subaru

You get the impression you’re being watched. It’s subtle at first, a small movement at the corner of your eye that vanishes as soon as you turn towards it. A faint prickle on the back of your neck every so often when you walk through the hallway. It doesn’t take long for things to escalate, until you can no longer shake the feeling of eyes on you almost everywhere you go. You think there’s something else going on too, the underclassman who you could have sworn had a crush on you now refuses to so much as look at you and he’d gone running like the devil himself was on his tail when you’d tried to approach him. Other people around you have started behaving weirdly too, a strange hush following you wherever you go, your fellow students going out of their way to avoid jostling you when you have move classrooms between lessons. There is one constant in all of this, and you’re starting to wonder if he might somehow be responsible for it. Subaru Sakamaki, despite the prestige of his father’s name, has the air of someone who’s had a difficult life. You’d decided to make an effort to be kind to him when you’d first noticed it, not necessarily going out of your way to hunt him down, but to grant him a little more patience and understanding than you might normally. He’s currently the only person who hasn’t started acting like you’ve contracted some horrible contagious disease, but you do catch him looking at you strangely sometimes. The moment he notices and immediately turns away are the few occasions you no longer feel watched. His expression in those moments is a bit like someone caught between wanting something but feeling conflicted over whether or not they should have it. And for some reason, the thought that he may eventually make up his mind fills you with nothing but dread.

Ruki

You’re being difficult again. It’s not that Ruki had believed you were past this stage—far from it in fact—but he had thought the punishment you’d received in your last session with him might have at least served as a temporary reminder to not push his limits again so soon. He knows the wounds have yet to properly heal from the faint trace of your blood that blossoms in the air whenever you move in a way that strains the skin of your back—and yet still you insist on running your mouth. Ruki regards you coldly for a moment. Back when he’d first met you, he might have mistaken the look on your face for defiance, but now he takes note of how brightly your eyes shine, the faint tremble of your lower lip. You’re lashing out because you’re afraid, like a cornered animal that hasn’t yet learnt not to bite the hand that feeds. He closes his book and places it to the side, not missing the way you try to hide your flinch as he stands up. There need to be consequences for this type of behaviour, there’s no point in putting this much effort into your training if not, but rather feeling annoyed, Ruki finds himself almost pleased at the prospect. For as much as your insolence grinds, there’s something about the way your tough façade breaks almost as soon as he gets started—and in the way you fall apart under his hands with the sting of antiseptic that follows. You cling to him sometimes, half delirious with pain, and it’s those moments he finds he savours the most.

Kou

Kou chuckles as you cling onto his arm, still unused to the heels he’d forced you into before you left the mansion. It’s honestly pretty cute, although not as cute as the way you keep glancing around anxiously, convinced that at any moment now his fans will appear around the corner and start baying for your blood. That same fear, however, is the only reason you’re here in the first place—his demand in return for not posting staged pictures of the two of you tangled together online. You’re actually doing pretty well all things considered, you even manage to flash him a wobbling smile when he tells you about the café he’s taking you to. Kou can’t quite decide what he likes most about about your little arrangement—that you’ve gotten good enough at acting that he can almost pretend you’re on a date with him because you want to be, or that the scent of your fear in the air tells him is doesn’t really matter because he has you right in the palm of his hand.

Yuma

Yuma’s used to people being intimidated by him. If not for his stature, and it usually is, then the way he speaks is often enough to set those around him slightly on edge. Not you though. No, the first time you meet, you look him dead in the eye without a hint of any sort of fear in your face. It’s not a judging look either, more of an assessment, that you realize he is used to being one of the biggest people in the room but that will carry no weight with you. It feels more like a challenge than anything else, and he feels the tips of one of fangs peek out from where the corner of his lip curls into a smirk. You never show fear when you look at him in any of your subsequent meetings either, even when you really should—like now, when he’s keeping your hands secured above your head with only the sheer weight of him. You're not stupid enough to put up a real fight, not when you can already feel the strain on your bones from his grip, but you are stubborn. And the defiance in your face even when you’re pinned helplessly just makes your blood taste all the sweeter for it.

Azusa

It had been an accident, the first time you’d pushed him down the stairs. You’d been in a rush, running late to one of your classes, when you’d tripped over your own feet, the hand you threw out to steady yourself slamming into the back of someone you hadn’t realized was there. All you could do was watch with a look of horror as the figure lost their balance and fell right down the otherwise abandoned stairwell. Perhaps you should have registered there was something wrong then, when instead of crying or getting angry at you or having any sort of normal response to being shoved down a set of stairs, Azusa—as you’d later come to find out his name was—had simply sat up and stared up at you like you were some kind of god. The second time you’d pushed Azusa down the stairs was less of an accident. He hadn’t left you alone after the first unfortunate incident and no amount of apologizing or promises it wouldn’t happen again were enough to get rid of him. One day, he’d managed to corner you after the ring of the final bell, standing so close you could feel an eerie coldness emanating from his body, and you felt the final threads of your patience snap. In truth, you hadn’t registered how close you were to those wretched stairs—too focused on the primitive part of your brain that screamed to get away from the strange boy—and thus, the quick short shove you gave him was enough to send him tumbling a second time. You’d stood there, frozen, as he slowly sat up, a rivulet of blood trailing down his face from where he must have knocked his head on the way down. And yet the injury was not the most appalling part of the scene. No, that right was reserved for the look of pure adoration in his eyes, directed straight at you.

Carla

You’re too kind for your own good. It’s something Carla’s become painfully aware of over the months he’s known you. At first he’d believed you were simply frightened by him, acting on his wishes to avoid his wrath as so many others had done in the past. But he’s familiar with the scent of your fear now and it is not fear you feel when you check on him after hearing the Endzeit-induced coughs from his room or when you make dishes with cured ham for him after he let slip that he was fond of it. It is a weakness, he thinks, but one he could perhaps tolerate if simply reserved for him. It is not however, anyone who crosses your path is greeted with your good nature and it eats at Carla’s insides far more than the disease rotting his blood. He is the Founder King, he should be able to have what he wants. And he will have you, all of you, so that no one else ever will.

Shin

Shin knows you like him, at least, he’s nearly certain of it. Because despite the hell he’d put you through after you first met, you’d still ended up hanging around him. The once fear-filled look on face whenever you saw him slowly becoming resigned until, at some point, your gaze had started to turn heated. For Shin’s part, you’d only been a bit of idle amusement at first, someone to terrorize whenever the frustration of his and Carla’s situation got to be too much. Eventually, however, your interactions had gone from being a way to pass the time to something he looked forward to; a wolf anticipating a meal. It was the first time he’d noticed the look of want in your eyes that he’d started to feel the same. So then why? If you want him, why does he never quite feel like he has you? His initial conclusion had been that it was something to do with Carla, that you were trying to pull one over on him to cosy up to the Founder King. But no amount of stalking from you from the shadows or checking on your scent every time he saw you had revealed that anything was going on between the two of you. If anything, you actively avoid his brother—Shin’s only ever seen you in the same room together when he himself is present. Perhaps you’re still hung up on how your relationship started, some part of you yet to forgive him for all the things he did to you. Or maybe, you’re doing it on purpose. After all, you’ve seen enough of his wolf form to know that when something runs away, there’s always an instinctive drive to chase.

Kino

Kino makes it seem like a coincidence when he runs into you outside of the local games arcade. You have no need to know he’d seen your social media post featuring a photo of a popular new café, the one opposite the shop he’d lingered in, waiting to stage this particular encounter. He’s done it a couple of times now—pulling at the strings attached to you to arrange these chance meetings. A couple of months ago he could never have imagined putting this much effort into a single human, especially one who wasn’t the Vampire Lord’s chosen Eve, but now it's turned into a game of sorts—to what degree can he entangle you in this web before you start to notice. It’s going well so far, you think him a simple classmate who’s a regular in the area—you’ve even given him your ID for a couple of the games you have on your phone. Tonight’s looking to be a lot of fun too. In just a couple of minutes, the friend you’d been hanging out with will get a call from their mother who should have just received a selection of pictures showing her precious darling skipping the cram school she paid oh so much money for. The friend will likely get called home—a shame, Kino will say, with a smile on his lips, but there’s no reason he and you can’t still have some fun before the night is over.

Karlheinz

Under any other circumstances, the scene before you would have had you swooning. A meal not out of place in a Michelin star restaurant laid out beautifully before you on top of an intricately carved antique table with possibly the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on seated at the opposite end to you, swirling a glass full of a rich, red liquid. The view out of the floor to ceiling windows is spectacular, a sky full of stars and a view of the forest and various small towns far below. Except these are not other circumstances, and the man who sits, watching you carefully as you cut into your food is none other than the Vampire King himself—and you are quite certain that it’s not wine that sits in his cup. The view is no comfort either, not when you know you are looking out over the demon world, a place that you’re sure would be quite hostile to you if not for the protection of the man keeping you here. Not that you’d gotten any real chance to see it save for the view from the castle you hadn’t left once in the months since you’d arrived here. You tell if the complete lack of any sort of guard makes you feel better or worse, on one hand at least you’re not followed everywhere, but on the other hand, the fact Karlheinz is powerful enough to keep you here without them makes the odds of escape seem slim.

#my writing #diabolik lovers #Shuu Sakamaki #Reiji Sakamaki #Ayato Sakamaki #Kanato Sakamaki #Laito Sakamaki #Subaru Sakamaki #Ruki Mukami #Kou Mukami #Yuma Mukami #Azusa Mukami #Carla Tsukinami #Shin Tsukinami #Kino #Karlheinz #I think results are also slight spoilers for what personality types are likely to get what result #so do take the quiz before reading this!

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bryhoney · 5 months ago

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Recognisance Pt.6

Hello!! I hope you enjoy! Just wanted to say thank you for all the support this fanfic has received so far :) I'm also sorry in advance :((((

<-Previous Next->

AO3

I've got an interview coming up for potentially a dream job offer so I'm prepping for that all the time at the moment - hence the slight delay in posting updates! But fingers crossed that all works out and it should be regular again!!

You’re seated opposite Gabriel and you note that he’s irritated at the commotion around you. No doubt he wanted to seat you in some private room to interrogate you but with the aftermath of the Ghost’s infiltration of the base - there isn’t anywhere to go.

You’re in an office that hasn’t been soundproofed, people are frantically ferrying their wounded colleagues or scrambling to gather information from each other.

Gabriel will be called away soon, he will have to answer to someone or orchestrate the next steps the Federation will take. He’d likely take the brunt of the blame for this mishap.

“Now, I’m only going to ask you nicely, once. You let them out, didn’t you?” He’s smoking, which you find unnerving. He’s doing everything he can to appear calm, but you’re sure he’s shaken by the breach and furious with your actions.

You don’t answer immediately, you’re not sure what the best approach here is. Despite everything, he’s still the only constant you have in your life.

“You didn’t tell me,” you’re oddly proud at how stable your voice is, you feel numb to everything other than the man opposite you, and you’re not even sure he’s an ally anymore.

He sighs, moving to stand. You can tell he’s wrestling with himself to maintain his composure. He looks out the window at the flurry of soldiers outside the office.

“I thought it’d be better this way, I’ll explain it all when this is over,” he sounds sincere, gesturing to the hallway to indicate that ‘this’ is the catastrophic impact of the ghosts.

“You killed my father,” you whisper, hating everything about this situation. You hate that your heart aches for a man you don’t know. You wished, more than anything, to remember the man whose voice you’d heard consoling you, who sounded like he loved you.

He turns back to you, “He wasn’t your father in the end, he was a liar - a traitor,” his voice is cold and hard and the look he gives you is lethal.

You’d also betrayed Rorke.

A soldier bursts into the room, “Sir,” his attempt to portray a calm indifference is admirable despite the heavy breathing that gives him away.

“I’ll be back soon, I expect you to be in your room until we can secure the site again,” Rorke says calmly before turning his back to you. He strides out of the room, following the younger man towards the main control centre.

It takes you a second to stand, hesitant to walk through the soldiers. Did they know who you were? Would they kill a relative of a Ghost? A Walker?

You hold your head up high and turn towards the living quarters, trying not to look at the extent of the damage that just a handful of men wrought onto a base full of highly trained operatives.

—

Time moves very slowly as you sit and wait in your room for Gabriel.

You’re sure that outside your room, the base is still in chaos but it’s completely silent in here. You’ve shut out every thought and memory that tries to resurface as you quietly try to piece together what you know.

Firstly, You’re a Walker. Your brothers are Hesh and Logan Walker.

From what you can recall, your childhood had been a happy one with the Walkers. This fact is less concrete, just moments of a normal, if somewhat eccentric family.

Secondly, you were tortured by them. The memories of your time in the room are hazy and interwoven with snippets of pain. But it was them - you’re not sure what drove them to do that to you. What had you done to turn them so far against you?

Rorke had told you that you’d been tortured to get to him. Who were you to Rorke? You had more ties to the Ghosts in Blood alone. You can’t recall being field-trained or dangerous enough to pose a substantial threat to them.

But Rorke insisted that they wanted to recapture you.

But you were out in the field, and you had tried to kill someone.

You had been raised by the leader of the Ghosts. Was it so unlikely to think you hadn’t also been taught some basic self-defence?

Your brothers were ghosts.

You-

“Keegan,” that was your voice, it was breathy and-

Oh God.

What the ever-loving fuck was happening. You knew next to nothing and Rorke had kept you in the dark. You had no idea who to trust.

Why didn’t he tell you?

Your memories would come back. They had to, you couldn’t stand this awful limbo of not knowing who you were and what had happened.

The door clicked open, and Rorke stepped into the room before locking it behind him. You felt small, entirely defenceless with him in this space.

“How you holding up, sweetheart?” his tone calm, reassuring as though nothing had happened. You furrowed your eyebrows. You’d allowed his enemies to escape and now he was calling you pet names?

“I’m alright,” your voice is small and your knees are now tucked up towards you.

He sits at the foot of your bed, looking towards you in the darkness, “Today was- it wasn’t what we expected,” he’s being honest, so you hope to keep him calm and keep him talking.

“No kidding,” you try smiling through the darkness at him. You’re, entirely preoccupied with self-preservation - it’s as though you’ve cornered a wild animal.

He smiles back towards you, “I suppose it’s high time you knew the truth.” You're taken aback, this was not the route you thought this military strategist would take. You had convinced yourself he would try something more calculated than the truth. But, that is assuming this was the truth.

You bring your arms up to hold yourself, “maybe," you’re being soft, giving him no reason to see any threat in you.

“You’re not a Walker,” he says it as though it’s obvious and it earns a physical, knee-jerk response from you,

“I am! I am a-” You’re furious, he’s going to lie to you again.

“Let me finish,” his tone is violent, final. He softens as you flinch from him, never once has he yelled at you like this. He’s volatile, you’ve always known that and yet-

“You were a Walker,” he adds, he sighs and meets your gaze again, and you don’t expect it. You’re silent so he’ll continue.

“You were a Walker, God knows what you were before the Walkers took you in.” He tries a smile at you, clears his throat and reaches towards his pockets, “You’ve been a Rorke for just under three years now,” his hand extends towards you, he’s holding a ring.

You’re blinking rapidly, you feel yourself pale as your stomach drops through the floor.

No.

“What?” you whisper, heart in your throat.

“It’s yours,” he says, and you take the ring gingerly, inspecting it as though it might trigger some long-buried memory of your time with Rorke, your husband.

No.

This isn’t right.

“I don’t- I don’t remember any of this?” your voice is level and calm, but internally you’re trying to stitch together even more fragments of your life.

He laughs, “It was rushed, and they hate me all the more for it.” He places a hand atop your knee and you don’t shrug him off.

“This doesn’t make sense, I wouldn’t have joined the Federation if I were a Walker, we’d have been enemies? How did we even-?” your train of thought is derailed by the constant theorisations forming and collapsing in your head.

“It’s a long story, kid, but, I was a Ghost once, before-” he pauses, clearing his throat, “I was close with Elias,” he replies, and God- it sounds honest. You don’t have any timeline to place this all on to verify anything he’s saying.

He looks at you, sighing as he continues, “I don’t expect you to wear it, they tried to destroy every part of me from your memory when they took you. I was foolish, I didn’t think they’d hurt you because they were.” He stands, and you track his movements. You feel stupid, even less certain. But he was so much older, how did you even meet - and yet-

You believe him.

“Gabriel, I-” You’re not even sure what you were going to say but you felt the need to continue. It makes sense, why the Ghosts would want you alive, why’d they want to hurt you.

But they’re home. They were home once.

“I’m sorry," he says, “I should have told you from the start, I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He moves towards you and kisses the top of your head.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Is all he says before he leaves.

And you almost hate him for it, he has ripped away the idea that you had a family that loved you. Of course, you didn’t have a family, you only had Gabriel.

But he was so much older, how did you even meet - how?

The man who has been nothing but respectful and kind. Your husband.

It explains why the Ghosts want you. It explains why a highly capable, violent man remained calm with you despite freeing his sworn enemies. You hate how much it makes sense.

“He’s dangerous, and he knows exactly how to kill us,” It’s your father, a briefing before a mission.

Likely against Rorke. Your husband.

You don’t remember any of this.

The Ghosts had taken so much from you.

You had so many questions. Despite the answers Rorke had given you, you felt more in the dark than ever.

“You’re infuriating, you shouldn’t even be in that room, anything could-” You cut the man with the deep voice off by kissing him. He doesn’t hesitate - his hands reach for you. One hand on your waist pulls you towards him, the other holding the back of your head fingers in your hair as he devours you. He kisses you with such intensity your knees feel like they’re about to give out from beneath you. You whisper, “Shut up, Keegan,” against him as you lose yourselves in each other, he’s pushing you backwards until your back hits the wall. You gasp at the impact, and he raises one of your legs to his waist before he pushes his hips against yours, you moan into his mouth-

No. No.

How could a Ghost, Keegan, do those things to you in your memory and then so easily carve a knife into your skin?

You’re sobbing. Utterly frustrated at your inability to remember anything that could help you put your life back together.

You weren’t a Walker after all.

#askbryhoney #call of duty ghosts #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #I just want to apologise #This is not a rorke fanfic i do not like that man #protect the walkers at all costs #please don't hate me #i am sorry in advance #rorke is not a good guyyyy

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glyhpsrfvckincol · 2 years ago

Note

Random owlhouse hc idea fo you

Reader barely gets called their actual name and is called a nickname to the point no one really know their name til someone asks if their name is actually the nickname and reader is like “ ha no”

My main thing is their nickname is a animal Mabye because their palismen is it

Nicknames || The Owl House

Synopsis - Various TOH characters asking if your nickname, which corresponds to your Palismen, is your real name.

Warnings - Many references.

Okay, side note.

My Palismen, he’s a frog with axolotl gills. 100% contemplating if I should add a shark fin. I don’t know what to colour him yet:(

Anyway-

A/n - If you want a part with the adults, let me know :D

Requests are opened; headcanons only

A list of nicknames corresponding to certain animals:

↳ Ferrets = Ferry (pronounced - fairy), kit

↳ Frogs = Froggy, Froppy, Mcfly, Kermit, Amphibia, Sprigs

↳ Birds = Chickie, Chica, Beaks, Fumikage, Ellie (I dunno know, your palismen might be an eagle), karasu (crow in japanese, according to google), Hedwig

↳ Duck = Ducky, Duckus, Qaucker, Waddles, Snickers

↳ Pig = Mabel, Waddles

↳ Cat = Garfield, Sphynx, Ghoul (corresponds to amity’s Palismen), kitkat, whiskers

↳ Deer = Antler, Specks (some deer have white dots on there fur, and it’s super pretty!), velvet (for when their antlers regrow), Bambi

↳ Spider = Webbs, Charlotte, Fang, Silky

Amity Blight

↳ You got your palismen when you were relatively young. Like 5 or sum-

↳ And your parents had given you a nickname based of your palismen. Cause the both of you are absolutely adorable.

↳ So, basically the only time they used your real name is used when you were in trouble. (Good luck, lol)

↳ Anyway, Amity has known you as N/n for years at this point. You introduced yourself to her as N/n, everyone has always called you N/n, and you even write N/n as your name on tests.

↳ So she had no reason to suspect your name was infact different from what she and everyone else knew it as.

↳ Until you had been called in as a suspect of being involved with the human girl by Belos, where he had written your birth name on the letter you’d been sent.

↳ Amity was shocked. And very confused.

↳ Amity when she read your name on the letter:

↳ So she questioned you.

↳ “N/n, has one of Belos coven scouts messed up who the letter was for?”

↳ You: ”???🤨 no?”

↳ ???

↳ “But, N/n, I’m almost certain your name isn’t Y/n, or did they just mix your name up?”

↳ And now we’ve found the problem.

↳ Amity doesn’t know your real name!!

↳ “Amity, I’ve just realised I’ve never told you my legal name is Y/n.”

↳ “But, you write N/n on where you sign your name, even school work.”

↳ “Oh, right, when my parents put me in Hexside, they were given an option on the paperwork that I would be able to have a preferred name, and they put N/n as the optional option.”

↳ “Oh.”

↳ Amity questions everything now. Mainly things to do with you and Luz.

Edric Blight

↳ He dumb, but it’s okay cause so am I. ✊😔

↳ He thought your Palismen was based off of your name so…

↳ Emira slapped him upside the head.

↳ He felt bad, cause he thought he was the only one who called you that.

↳ “I’m really sorry if you felt offended by me calling you P/n, I just thought they were based off of you.”

↳ :(

↳ Our poor boy 😭😭

↳ “Edric, it’s okay! I kind of told you it was my nickname, so I can’t blame you.”

↳ It’s best to tell him you prefer being called N/n, seeing as he will continue to feel like shit if you don’t.

↳ Now, he will either call you Y/n or N/n, just depends what comes to mind when he is either addressing you or talking to you.

↳ It confuses a lot of people, human and witches alike.

Emira Blight

↳ Asked you after a few days of being your friend.

↳ “So your Palismen, you have a nickname that matches it?”

↳ “Yeah.”

↳ “Cool.”

↳ Will tease you about it though, telling you it’s the cutest thing she’s EVER seen.<3

↳ Fastest to figure it out, everyone else took at least a few weeks.

Gus Porter

↳ Depending on the timeline, and wether you’re a witch, human or some other specie, also impacts how you got your nickname.

↳ Gus learns your name when you and him get put in detention.

↳ Principal Bump has caught you, Luz and Gus sneaking around Hexside, and throws you 3 + Matt into detention.

↳ Detention shrieks your names, before attempting to catch you and lock you in its pods.

↳ Gus is to terrified to question it about right then and there, but he does after Luz is accepted into Hexside.

↳ “Detention called you Y/N. How come?”

↳ “It’s my name??”

↳ *insert little dorky smirk*

↳ Gus just nods, also smiling.

↳ “Both your name and nickname are cool.”

↳ He gives you a fist bump, partly cause your names are awesome, mostly cause surviving detention is not only difficult but equally terrifying and it’s respectable you got out with him and Luz.

↳ Rip Matt.

Hooty

↳ He gives you a nickname within a nickname.

↳ And then forgets your nickname.

↳ But it’s okay cause we love him all the same!

↳ Hooty is always shocked when Luz or Eda call you by your nickname, cause that’s not your name!

↳ Was even more shocked when he learned your name was actually Y/n.

↳ “But I call you H/n (Hooty’s Nickname), and everyone else calls you N/n! How are neither your real name!?”

↳ Ensues him beating the coven scouts harder the next time they try to arrest Eda.

↳ Hooty forgets your name again btw.

↳ Just let him think H/n is your name to avoid maximum chaos.

Hunter Noceda

↳ He meets you during the hunting Palismen episode. You and Luz had been sitting in the little house the bat queen had for the babies so she could have a Palismen.

↳ You had gotten your Palismen the day before along with the rest of your class and Luz gave you several nicknames, trying to figure out which ones would suit you and your baby best.

↳ It took her 20 minutes I shall add.

↳ Anyway- when Hunter came to take the Palismen back to Belos, he heard Luz use your nickname, and just assumed it was your real name.

↳ This dork however, didn’t bother using your ‘name’ and instead called you ‘wild witch’. Any witch associated with the human is known as a wild witch.

↳ Basically up until you’re all in the human realm, Hunter only knows you as N/n, and doesn’t really question you about whatsoever.

↳ Then Luz introduces all of you to Vee and Camila, where she uses your real name.

↳ “And this is Y/n, but we all call them N/n cause it matches their Palismen.”

↳ Hunter just stands there, processing the information.

↳This boy is so clueless, that he asks you about, wanting you to confirm it.

↳ “N/n isn’t your real name like Luz said, right?”

↳ “Yeah, it’s actually Y/n, Luz is the one who gave me the nickname.”

↳ “Oh.”

↳ And then he continues on with his day.

↳ Will use either your nickname or real name, it’s just whatever comes to mind when he talks to you.

King

↳ Met you through Luz, as one of her first friends:D

↳ He just called you a puny mortal. At first at least.

↳ He slowly shifted into calling you N/n, as he got closer to you.

↳ King knew that your name was odd, but he didn’t question it. Mainly cause last time he questioned something, Tinella Nosa appeared.

↳ And with Eda giving you nicknames, as well as Luz, it just confuses him a tad bit more.

↳ King wants to ask you, just to stop being confused.

↳ But he’s shy, and ask Luz for help.

↳ “Conejito, what was the inspiration behind N/n?”

↳ king is just sitting on her shoulder.

↳ “P/n. When I first got them, my dad just started calling me N/n. I guess everyone caught on cause no one calls me Y/n anymore.”

↳ King: 😲

↳ King just stares into your soul. He didn’t actually think N/n wasn’t you’re real name, just thought it was an odd name.

↳ For a little after this, he’ll switch between your names, sounding very unsure whenever he says it, u til it just becomes natural again.

Luz Noceda

↳ Eda definitely gave you the nickname.

↳ Eda’s probs given you near to a few 100 by now.

↳ So Luz knew you as N/n.

↳ Because that’s how Eda introduced you to Luz.

↳ Luz found out what your real name was when Gus used it to greet you back in “I Was a Teenage Abomination.”

↳ “Wait, is N/n just another one of Eda’s nicknames?!? 😱

↳ You: 😊

↳ You just smile innocently at her, like Dustin Henderson when he was 12-

↳ Luz just questions life. Forever. Will give you her own nickname.

Matt Tholomule

↳ He got so annoyed when he found out. Like how dare you >:(

↳ Only he was supposed to lie about his name.

↳ “Neither of us lied though? You have everyone call you by your full name and I just had a nickname related to my Palismen.”

↳ But he don’t listen to reason. He a petty bitch-

↳ Matt found out via Steve.

↳ Let’s set the scene.

↳ You and Matt, hanging out, and it just so happens to be Steve’s off day.

↳ He walks past Matt’s room as the two of you are arguing over what a humans favourite food is.

↳ He thinks it’s normal for humans to eat actual eggs. As in the shells.

↳ You’re probably friends with Luz, which means it’s more than likely come up in conversation when you’ve offered her food.

↳ “Ohhhh, you’re Shiba’s nibling, Y/n, right?”

↳ “Huh? That’s not her name Dumbass! Now get out!”

↳ “I’m not in your room though, I’m standing outside it.” 😌😌

↳ Which lead to a conversation about you lying to him.

↳ As if HE didn’t lie either.

↳ “Matt, shut up, and stop telling people your first name is Mattholomule, you sound dumb.”

↳ “Hypocrite.”

The Collector

↳ He never asked your name. Just called you play date, or best friend.

↳ Doesn’t even fathom the idea of you having your own name besides the one he gave you.

↳ Until King accidentally used your birth name.

↳ King knew you from adventures he had with Luz, seeing as you were his friend too.

↳ You just got unlucky, and got very stuck in the demon realm.

↳ Yes, you’re forced to call her ‘mom Odalia’-

↳ And when Collector found out, he was so confused.

↳ Like ??? What do you mean the name I gave you isn’t your real name?? You’re so mean! :(

↳ How dare you! >:(

Vee Noceda

↳ She figured it out on her own. (Cause she smart🤓)

↳ When she first met you, she also met your Palismen.

↳ “You and your Palismen match really well!”

↳ Yes, that is how she starts the conversation, give out baby a break >:(

↳ Vee is smiling at you, rubbing her hands and is swinging back and forth on her feet.

↳ “Uh, yeah! P/n really cool! They can do this thing! It’s-“

↳ And your dorkly explain every cool thing your Palismen can do!

↳ “That’s epic! It’s also really cool you’re nickname matches them!”

↳ God bless you a-dork-able nerds!

Willow Park

↳ Willow suspected NOTHIN’.

↳ Just thought it was a coincidence or that your Palismen was passed down to you! This depends on the timeline.

↳ For a very long time, she knew you as N/n.

↳ But when you, her, Gus and Luz get called to principal Bumps office, that changed quickly.

↳ “Y/N, I taught your parents, I know they wouldn’t approve of this behaviour.”

↳ You may or may not have set fire to one of the school rooms…

↳ Y/n?? Huh?

↳ Since the 4 of you were being lectured, Willow made sure to ask you later.

↳ “Uh N/n, do you have another name? Cause I’m principal Bumps office he called you… something else.”

↳ She forget what Principal Bump addressed you as, but that was fine!

↳ “Oh! Yeah, my legal name is Y/n. Boscha started calling me N/n in a teasing way but others thought it was meant to be affectionately and also started calling me that. It’s a cute nickname so I don’t mind.”

↳ “Oh… are you comfortable with me calling you N/n?”

↳ My sweet baby!

↳

#yes the frog nicknames are references to Mha and back to the future #lol #there’s more references lol #the owl house #toh #amity blight x reader #edric blight x reader #emira blight x reader #gus porter x reader #hooty clawthorne x reader #hunter noceda x reader #king clawthrone x reader #luz noceda x reader #matt tholomule x reader #the collector x reader #vee noceda x reader #willow park x reader #toh hunter x reader

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hannahbarberra162 · 2 months ago

Text

hOrnithology for Beginners, Epilogue

on Ao3

All the other chapters

Marco come pick me up I have science to do.

I hope you enjoyed the ending! I almost included some smut but it didn't feel right with the pacing of the story.

~~~

Nine More Months Later

Marco POV

Marco watched you survey the deck of the Moby Dick, trying to determine if you were suitably impressed. You were hard to read but the tiny lift in your eyebrows signaled to him your approval. His Phoenix had been driving him absolutely crazy over the past week, wanting to prepare his room and get the ship to pristine condition to ensure you liked it. He’d felt compelled to primp and preen in front of the mirror, the Phoenix wanted to look its best for the returning Ornithologist. Despite trying to keep himself even keel, Marco had snapped at his siblings all week. They taunted him relentlessly, which he deserved. But the Phoenix was riding him hard, wanting everything to be perfect for it’s mate…er, date.

You were coming on board with Etta and they were bringing you across the Grand Line to an uninhabited island. Since their time on your island, Etta had become interested in etymology, specifically related to beetles. She’d maintained a correspondence with Ace, and had let him know the two of you wouldn’t be at your island for a while. Ace told Marco, and the two of them asked Pops if they could ferry the two of you where you needed to go. Pops had agreed easily with a twinkle in his eye. You had a great reputation with the crew already and Marco knew there was a betting pool on whether you’d shoot him again, with most betting that you did.

Marco was hoping for the best, but realistically he didn’t know if anything physical would happen between the two of you. After he’d taken you flying, you’d looked up at him with a wistful gaze and angled your face towards his own. But at the last moment you’d frowned and thrust your hand between the two of you for a handshake. He’d taken it with grace but the Phoenix was sad. He’d tried to calm the bird within him, but it had its heart set on you. The conference had further endeared you to the Phoenix, it felt that you’d found an audience to adore it.

After the conference, Marco had given you a snail in case the World Government or Marines gave you trouble due to your paper about him. That way you’d be able to call him for help if you were targeted as an ally to the Whitebeard Pirates. They hadn’t, but you’d called him a few times to ask follow up questions about specific facets of the Phoenix you were curious about. That had turned into periodic calls and frequent letters between the two of you. You wrote mostly about birds you’d seen and sent some drawings as well. You started including little bits of personal information as well as the months went on. His brothers always knew when he got a new letter - he was snappish and almost hostile until he read the newest piece of news you’d sent him. He saved all your letters in his office, hidden at the bottom of his desk drawer. Marco knew it was silly, but he didn’t want anyone else to see the letters or drawings you’d sent. He could probably recite them all by heart from how many times he’d read them.

So when he finally saw you aboard the ship, he’d had to stop himself from bursting into a deluge of flames. The man knew he had to keep his cool, things weren’t as easy as the Phoenix thought they were. You took stock of the ship, putting your things down for a few moments. Marco noted your blow gun was still strapped to your thigh, he didn’t blame you. Etta had run ahead to Ace, the Logia user swinging her in a circle with loud kisses. He set her down and was whispering into her ear, making her giggle. They scurried off, presumably to Ace’s cabin, as soon as politely possible. You rolled your eyes at the pair, crossing your arms over your chest. Alright, show time.

Your POV

Being on the Moby Dick was more fun than you’d like to admit. The ship was huge, you’d never been on anything remotely as big before. You walked up to Whitebeard, introduced yourself and thanked him for taking you to your research outpost.

“My pleasure, child,” said the World’s Strongest Man. “Was it you who poisoned my son?”

“Depends which one,” you replied, shrugging. “I only poisoned Marco, Ace poisoned himself.” You weren’t cowed by his presence or ashamed of your actions, and you saw no reason to pretend to be.

“GURAHAHAHAHA, a woman with spirit, I can see why my son likes you. Enjoy your time aboard the ship child.”

“Thank you, sir.” You blushed and moseyed off, knowing you’d been dismissed. You took out your binoculars, sea birds were something you had interest in but rarely got to see. You were hoping to see a New World Albatross to check it off your list. You’d become somewhat of a celebrity in the birding world, if such a thing existed. Your paper on the Phoenix, which had included 10 pages of diagrams and figures, was an overnight success in the scientific community. The information had made its way to the World Government, but they weren’t very interested in your calculations of the density of Marco’s bones. You knew there were some grumblings that you had slept with Marco to get the information, but you didn’t care. Let people think what they wanted, even if it wasn’t true. You were on your way with Etta to an island that had beetles only found on the small, sandy location. Since there were unique beetles, there were also unique birds, and you were hoping for an extended study on new colonies that had developed there.

It wasn’t an easy choice to be friends with Etta again. After the pirates had left you didn’t talk to her for almost a month. You were so upset by her betrayal, you promised yourself you wouldn’t ever speak to her again. She tried to come by a few times but you didn’t open the door to her. Eventually, you did decide to reach out, just because you wanted some closure. It was an emotional conversation between the two of you, with both of you crying by the end of it. You listened to her and understood why she did what she did, but the reasons didn’t make it hurt less. The conversation ended on okay terms, but you weren’t sure the friendship would be rekindled.

Etta had ended up becoming very interested in beetles after meeting Ace. She spent months learning and researching and had pursued higher studies. She sought you out every so often for clarification and it had slowly brought you back together. It took a lot of work between the two of you to get to where you could spend time together. Things weren’t the same as they were before, but they were mending and you had enough respect for her scientific enthusiasm to spend time on an island together. With the time you’d be spending as scientists together, you were feeling hopeful that the two of you might be friends again.

Your research was how the two of you ended up on the Moby Dick. You’d wanted to pay for passage on a merchant vessel to your scientific venture, but Etta had asked Ace in one of her letters. Ace said they were heading the same way, it wouldn’t be out of their way to pick you up and drop you off. If you were going to be traveling with pirates, you might as well travel with the strongest of them all. You’d have no trouble with shifty merchants or other pirates along the way, that was for sure. So you’d accepted and found yourself on Whitebeard’s ship, once again with Marco The Phoenix.

“So, how has business been going yoi?” Marco asked. Even after your article had been published, you continued to write letters back and forth with Marco. At first it was purely business, sending him the article and thanking him for coming to your lecture. But it had turned into a friendship of sorts, like pen pals. Ok, it was more than friendship. As the months went on and you exchanged more letters, you became more attached to the bird. Your day brightened immensely when you got one of his letters and you read them over and over again. You’d shared personal details and drawings with Marco in your correspondence as he shared more of himself. You’d told him how you hadn’t gone back to the restaurant, instead starting your own business of drawing caricatures of tourists. You made quite a bit of money, more than you’d ever made waitressing. Your pictures were often insulting but people loved them and bought them as souvenirs. You were known for making portraits of people looking like birds - either ones they selected or ones you thought they looked like.

“Really well, actually. I was finally able to buy a better dehydrator, which I’ve been wanting for a long time.” You still loved pineapple and had dehydrated crates worth for your trip into the wilderness. You hoped Marco didn’t dig into it before you got to your destination.

“Good, good.” Marco seemed to be having some hesitation, like he was holding himself back. You didn’t remember Marco being awkward, he had always been smooth before. Well, whatever. There were literally a thousand other people on board to entertain yourself with, even if they were pirates. Maybe you’d find that really good looking guy from the first time you’d met.

“Where can I drop my stuff?” you said, tapping your pack with your toe.

“Oh, you can put it in my room for now,” Marco replied, picking it up for you.

“A little presumptuous, don’t you think?” You weren’t exactly sure what you and Marco would be up to tonight, but you didn’t want to assume anything. A tiny part of you hoped something did, but you also liked giving Marco shit. You’d be on the ship for a few weeks, the island wasn’t close to where you were located. There would be plenty of time for things to develop between you and Marco, if they did at all.

“How rude! Dart him again!” cheered a man you recognized from the restaurant. He still had that pompadour, that was his normal look? You rolled your eyes.

“Eh, not right now. But if you want to see someone poisoned, you can try it out,” you replied. He paled and you laughed. Marco led you to the stairs, taking you down to put your things in his room. You peeked in while he set them down on an overstuffed chair. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was neat and orderly, with a few mementos from his travels. His desk was a little less organized, with papers scattered all over the surface. And in the back corner, a framed picture you remembered vividly. Busting in, you grabbed it off his desk.

“I can’t believe you kept this!” you said, looking over the drawing. It was the sketch you’d made of him as a bird - before you’d known he was the Phoenix. The figure you’d drawn was much smaller and cuter than his actual bird form, but you stood by it still. Marco plucked it from you, almost like he was embarrassed.

“I like it yoi,” was all he said, putting it back on his desk. He adjusted it so it sat just so on his desk, like things had to be in a certain order. “Let’s go back on deck, I’m sure the party will be getting started soon.”

“Party?”

And indeed, there was a party in your honor. Well, you couldn’t be sure it was in your honor, it seemed like these pirates needed little reason to party. Still, it was the largest party you’d ever been invited to. You hung around Marco, and later Etta and Ace once they resurfaced from whatever they were doing. You were chit chatting with the crew members, surprising yourself for being so casual with pirates. They had been asking you about your business venture outside of your scientific curiosities.

“But why insulting drawings?” asked the World’s Prettiest Man Izou, still dressed in Wano inspired clothing. Now why couldn’t he have been the Phoenix? You would have forgiven him much sooner.

“People pay more for insulting caricatures,” you said, shrugging. “People seem to like it when I rip on them, I don’t know why.” You’d brought sketching supplies naturally, but didn’t want to waste them on stupid drawings of pirates. “I can draw some for you guys if you have pencils.”

“GURAHAHAHAHA, an excellent likeness!” You’d given the Captain a drawing of himself with a crescent beard that echoed the way his mustache looked. He was White beard, but you didn’t want to draw anything too insulting. It would be no fun if you were stomped to death before you’d even made it to your destination. You’d been drawing the pirates all evening, to their intense amusement. You’d drawn Haruta as a Tontatta, Namur as a mermaid, Kingdew as a bumblebee, and Fossa smiling, among others. They loved seeing the finished product and multiple beers had been ejected through noses after you’d shown the final results.

“Draw more! Just one more!” cheered Thatch. He’d been especially taken with the drawings after you’d drawn one of him as a loaf of bread.

“No, no. I’m done for now with you lot,” you said, handing the clipboard back to Thatch. The crowd booed you.

“Enough yoi. She said she’s done,” Marco said, in a tone that held no room for arguing. He was radiating little wisps of fire, like he was ready to defend your honor. The crowd was still booing but was dispersing. Marco had been hanging out near you all night, almost like he was nervous to leave you alone. He was good company though, and you enjoyed talking with him in person rather than over the mail. “Would you like me to show you to the guest room?” Marco asked. You were tired of being at the party, but not that tired. You didn’t like playing games, you just did what you thought felt right. Besides, you weren’t stupid, you knew the Moby Dick hadn’t been going in the direction of a random unnamed scientific outpost.

You hummed in response. “I’m not tired just yet, I’d rather complete some research. There’s one component I’m still missing,” you said cryptically.

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What component yoi?”

“The effects of endorphin release upon the Phoenix,” you deadpanned. You thought you heard the start of a bird song but Marco cleared his throat instead. He leaned against the railing of the deck on one forearm, bringing his face closer to yours.

Marco laughed lightly. “Oh? And will your findings be published?” Marco asked, leaning over and caging you against the railing with his body.

“No, this is more for personal education,” you replied with a smirk, tilting your head towards his.

“Well, we must satisfy your curiosity yoi. What kind of endorphin release did you have in mind? Meditation? Exercise? Eating spicy food?”

“Something like that,” you replied. You grabbed the front of his open shirt and pulled his face to yours, kissing him deeply. Marco kissed you back, leaning you back against the railing of the deck. You distantly heard cheers from the crew, but couldn’t be bothered to care. Besides, you didn’t have enough darts to shoot them all.

Marco POV

If the skinny dipping didn’t do it, and the poison didn’t do it, this would certainly be Marco’s end. Marco the man was fine with kissing on the deck in front of the crew, they all did it from time to time. The Phoenix, however, was ready for heads to roll. It didn’t want any potential rivals seeing your romance, it wanted your mate DATE safely within Marco’s room before anything happened. Marco had already been riding a thin line all night. He knew he had no business telling you what to do and who to interact with, but there was no calming the Phoenix. It wanted you all to itself, away from all his siblings. The whole night his hand was itching to throw you over his shoulder and take you below deck. He’d nearly done it when Thatch had made you laugh at some stupid joke, but had held himself back at the last moment. Now he wasn’t sure he could. The whoops coming from the deck had his eye twitching.

“Would you like to continue this experiment elsewhere?” Marco whispered into your ear. You shivered at the feeling of his stubble on your cheek.

“In your nest?” you whispered back mischievously. Marco nipped your ear as a reply. This time, he did throw you over his shoulder, causing you to laugh. He stalked off towards the stairs, causing even more whooping from his brothers. Marco knew they’d tease him at a later time, but he wasn’t thinking about that. At that moment, all he cared about was hearing your laughter, feeling you in his arms, and knowing that he’d have a few weeks to spend with you on the Moby. And he could always come visit you at your outpost, one of the benefits of having wings. Phoenix and man were united, excited for the future with their favorite birdwatcher.

#bird watching with a bird #op x y/n #marco the phoenix #marco op #epilogue #whitebeard crew

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