thinking about !virgin shigaraki who is infatuated with you but conceals it, sneaking around in your room whenever you left to go about your business. He steals little things you wonât notice, going into your romper for the occasional pair of dirty panties and replacing them with the last ones he stole, now stiff and crusty with his dried semen. He goes into your drawers, spraying your perfumes and rolling around your bed when you take too long to come back.
!virgin shigaraki who absolutely loves when you pamper him, despite his little attitude and upturned nose. He bathes and sits on the toilet afterwards, allowing you to stand between his thighs and blow dry his hair. On special occasions you rub thick lotions over his back, from cheap drugstore lotions to the lavish, scented ones you keep to yourself. It doesnât matter, as long as you have your hands on him.
!virgin shigaraki who one day gets caught up in your room one particular night after your long disappearance. You hadnât told anyone how long youâd be gone, how was he supposed to know when to be up and out of there! Itâs not his fault, you shouldnât have left your door unlocked. Itâs not like you havenât seen him naked anyways.
!virgin shigaraki who is splayed out across your bed with his shorts down to his knees, fucking his fist and whispering to himself in that creaky little voice of his, crying. His hair is laid back against your pillows and his other hand is busy holding a photo up of your soapy bare form in the shower.
!virgin shigaraki who doesnât come out of your room until mid afternoon the next day, having spent the night with his hands fastened to the headboard up above him, getting his nuts drained over and over and over again until heâs shooting blanks and can no longer produce tears
SUMMARY: Michael realizes he has feelings for his best friend.
CONTENT: inspired by the twister and pool scenes in âMichaelâ. Friends with feelings for each other. Fluff. This will probably be a small series! lmk what you guys think.
There was one thing Michael Jackson still hated admitting.
He got lonely easily.
Especially in that weird in-between stage of his life where everything felt like it was changing too fast.
Off the Wall had exploded.
People looked at him differently now.
The pressure was bigger.
The expectations louder.
And somehow the house in Encino felt emptier because of it.
Tonight was supposed to help.
Michael had spent an embarrassingly long time setting up Twister in the living room because heâd convinced himself his brothers would actually play with him for once.
âCâmon,â he tried again, holding up the box dramatically while his brothers grabbed jackets near the front door. âJust one game.â
âWe already got plans, Mike.â
âWeâre late.â
âWeâll play another time.â
Michaelâs shoulders slumped slightly.
âBut you saidââ
âAnother night, man.â
The front door shut behind them.
Silence.
Michael stared at the bright Twister mat spread across the carpet for a second too long before quietly sitting down beside it.
From the kitchen, Katherine Jackson looked over sympathetically.
âOh babyâŠâ
âIâm fine,â Michael muttered immediately.
Which meant he absolutely wasnât.
Meanwhile, from his armchair, Joe Jackson barely glanced up from the television.
âYou too old to be sulking over games.â
Katherine shot him a sharp look immediately.
Michael just looked down at the mat.
And then the doorbell rang.
Katherine moved to answer it, and seconds later a familiar voice drifted through the hallway.
âMrs. Jackson, my mom said you forgot your baking dish againââ
Then Y/N L/N appeared in the living room doorway and stopped mid-sentence.
Because spread across the floor was Twister.
Her entire face lit up instantly.
âOh my God.â
Michael looked up slowly.
Y/N pointed aggressively at the mat.
âAre we playing Twister?â
Michael blinked once.
ââŠYou wanna play?â
âMichael.â She looked genuinely offended. âI love Twister.â
And just like that, something heavy in his chest loosened instantly.
Because Y/N always did this somehow.
She was the Jacksonsâ neighbor in Encino. Loud, funny, dramatic Y/N who showed up unexpectedly and filled rooms without even trying.
Katherine adored her.
Joe absolutely did not.
âShe distracts him,â he always grumbled whenever she came around.
Which honestly? Only became more true with time.
Because Michael looked at Y/N differently than he looked at everybody else.
Like he could breathe easier around her.
Even if neither of them fully realized why yet.
Y/N dropped onto the floor beside the mat dramatically.
âSet it up.â
Michael laughed softly for the first time all evening.
âItâs already set up.â
âOh.â Y/N crossed her legs. âSo this is serious.â
ââË.â
Twister turned out to be a horrible idea immediately.
Mostly because Y/N cheated constantly.
âYou moved your foot!â
âI adjusted it.â
âThatâs cheating.â
âItâs called strategy.â
Michael laughed so hard he nearly collapsed onto the mat.
God, He needed this.
Needed someone who didnât treat him like a celebrity or a machine or the future of music.
Just Michael.
At one point Y/N got completely tangled beneath his arm and burst into helpless laughter.
âWeâre stuck.â
âMove your hand.â
âI literally canât.â
âYouâre dramatic.â
âYeah, well, you like that about me.â
Michael opened his mouth automatically.
Paused.
Then smiled shyly instead. âI actually do.â
Y/N blinked at him for half a second too long before immediately looking away.
Because sometimes Michael smiled at her and her brain genuinely stopped functioning for a moment.
Not that sheâd ever admit that out loud.
Meanwhile Katherine watched the entire thing from the kitchen trying not to smile too obviously.
Joe, unfortunately, noticed too. And he didnât like it one bit.
Because Michael had spent all week locked in the studio obsessing over demos and rehearsals and choreography. Focused. Disciplined.
Then Y/N showed up and suddenly he was sprawled across the floor laughing over Twister like the weight of the world wasnât sitting on his shoulders anymore.
Joe frowned.
âBoyâs distracted.â
Katherine looked at him flatly.
âBoyâs happy.â
Joe didnât answer.
ââË.â
Eventually the game dissolved into complete chaos because Y/N stopped following the rules entirely.
Then somehow they ended up on the couch with multiple cartons of ice cream spread across the coffee table while an old black-and-white movie played softly in the background.
Y/N sat curled into the corner beneath a fuzzy blanket sheâd stolen from Michaelâs room earlier.
âThis,â she declared seriously around a spoonful of strawberry ice cream, âis the peak human existence.â
Michael laughed softly beside her.
âYou say that about everything.â
âOnly because I appreciate the beauty in life.â
âYou said mozzarella sticks changed your life last week.â
âBut they did, Mikey!â
Michael shook his head fondly.
She was absolutely ridiculous.
But tonight something warm settled quietly in his chest every time she made him laugh. Because earlier sheâd noticed he was upset immediately.
And instead of brushing it off or teasing him, she stayed. Like his feelings mattered.
Like he mattered.
And Michael didnât realize how badly he needed that until now.
The movie played softly.
The lights stayed low.
Y/Nâs voice slowly got quieter and quieter while she rambled about how old movies needed âbetter kissing scenes.â
Then, eventually, silence.
Michael glanced sideways and froze slightly.
Because Y/N had fallen asleep against his shoulder.
Still holding the spoon.
Michael smiled instantly.
Carefully, trying not to wake her, he adjusted the blanket higher around her shoulders.
And for a second he just sat there looking at her.
At the way her hair spilled against his arm.
The faint remains of eyeliner beneath her eyes.
The tiny pout she always got when she slept.
Something in Michaelâs chest ached suddenly, warm in a way he didnât fully understand yet.
A few minutes later Katherine walked into the living room and immediately stopped.
Because there they were.
Michael sitting perfectly still so Y/N could sleep comfortably against him.
The empty ice cream cartons abandoned everywhere.
The old movie flickering softly across both their faces.
Katherineâs expression melted instantly.
âOh,â she whispered softly.
Then Joe appeared behind her.
And immediately frowned.
âThere she goes again,â he muttered. âDistracting him.â
Katherine looked ready to argue until Michael glanced up briefly.
And the look on his face stopped her. Because her son looked peaceful.
Not exhausted. Not pressured. Not overwhelmed.
Just happy. Safe, even.
Like for one evening he got to simply be a young man sitting on the couch with his best friend instead of carrying the weight of becoming Michael Jackson.
Katherine smiled quietly to herself.
Meanwhile Michael looked back down at Y/N sleeping against him and smiled too.
Small.
Private.
Completely gone for her.
Even if he didnât know it yet.
ââË.â
A few days after the Twister episode, the California heat had turned the Jackson backyard into something straight out of a magazine ad.
The pool shimmered bright blue beneath the sun.
Music drifted softly from outdoor speakers.
And floating lazily in the middle of the water was Michael Jackson with a notebook balanced against his bare chest, completely lost inside his own head.
One arm dangled into the water while he scribbled lyrics messily across the page, humming little melodies beneath his breath every few seconds.
His dark curls were slightly damp from the heat already, and his aviator sunglasses rested low on his nose while he concentrated so hard he barely noticed anything else around him.
Michael always got like this while writing.
Tunnel vision.
Obsessive.
Like the song became the only thing existing in the world.
Which was exactly why his brothers chose that moment to interrupt him.
âWhat are you doing?â Jermaine asked while stepping outside with Marlon and Tito trailing behind him.
Michael barely glanced up from the notebook.
âWorking.â
Jermaine stared flatly at the inflatable raft.
âYouâre writing music in a pool.â
âIâm thinking.â
âYou look ridiculous.â
Michael ignored him completely, scribbling something down quickly before muttering the melody beneath his breath again.
Tito leaned closer.
âWhatâs got you acting possessed now?â
Michael finally sat up slightly, curls falling into his face while he pointed the pencil toward them dramatically.
âI gotta finish this.â
âYouâre at the pool, Mike.â
Michael sighed heavily.
âIf I donât finish it, Godâs gonna give it to Prince.â
His brothers exploded laughing immediately.
âThat is not how music works!â
âYes it is.â
âYou are insane.â
Michael pointed accusingly at them.
âYou laugh now but when Prince releases this six months later donât come crying to me.â
Jermaine cried-laughed.
And then the back door slid open.
Michael looked up automatically. Big mistake.
Because Y/N L/N stepped outside.
And every coherent thought immediately left his body.
She looked like actual summer personified, wearing a tiny red-and-white checkered bikini tied at her hips with little bows, her hair piled messily on top of her head while oversized aviator sunglasses sat on her nose.
Michaelâs aviator sunglasses.
The realization hit him instantly.
âOh my God,â Jermaine whispered-yelled beside him immediately. âShe stole your glasses.â
Michael barely heard anything.
Because Y/N was already walking barefoot toward the pool, sunlight glowing against her skin while the sunglasses practically swallowed half her face.
And somehow the fact she was casually wearing his things made the situation ten times worse for him.
âOh!â Y/N smiled brightly when she spotted everyone. âHi boys.â
And somehow her brain had never fully processed that possibility before.
Which now actually felt medically concerning.
The sunlight reflected against the water onto his skin while he sat stretched across the float in black swim trunks, curls messy from the heat, lean chest lightly glistening beneath the afternoon sun.
Y/N actually forgot what she was doing for a second.
âOh my God,â she blurted out before she could stop herself. âYouâre shirtless.â
One of his brothers made a strangled noise immediately, trying to suppress a laugh.
Michael blinked once.
ââŠYeah?â
âIâve literally never seen that before.â
Michael sat up straighter automatically. Which somehow only made everything worse.
Because now Y/N got an even better look at him.
And Michael got a very clear look at Y/N staring.
âOh this is bad,â Marlon whispered gleefully.
Michael tried looking back down at the notebook again pretending very hard to focus.
Unfortunately his body had already betrayed him.
Because Y/N kept walking closer to the edge of the pool adjusting his sunglasses and smiling at him in that absentmindedly sweet way she always did.
Michael shifted awkwardly against the float.
Immediately realizing the problem.
Oh.
Oh, no, He thought.
Actual panic flashed across his face for half a second. Because now Y/N was kneeling beside the pool and Michael suddenly became very aware that his swim trunks were doing absolutely nothing to hide the situation developing in real time.
Jermaine noticed instantly.
And the grin spreading across his face became genuinely evil.
âOh my GOD.â
Michael snapped his head toward him immediately.
âShut up.â
âYou are fighting for your life right now, arenât you?â
âI hate you.â
Y/N looked between them suspiciously.
âWhatâs happening?â
âNothing!â Michael answered way too fast and his brothers nearly collapsed laughing.
Meanwhile Y/N narrowed her eyes briefly before shrugging.
âAnywayâŠâ
And before anyone could react, she jumped directly into the deep end of the pool.
Then immediately regretted it.
âOh my God WAITââ
Y/N resurfaced flailing dramatically because she was way too short to comfortably touch the bottom.
âY/Nâ" Michael started, but she launched herself at him without hesitation.
Michael barely steadied the float in time before Y/N practically climbed onto him in panic, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders while she tried to keep herself above water.
The float tipped dangerously sideways beneath them.
And suddenly Y/N was pressed directly against him.
Chest to chest.
Legs tangled beneath the water.
Her thighs brushing his waist while she clung to him breathlessly.
Michael stopped breathing entirely.
Because this was already catastrophic before Y/N accidentally shifted against his lap trying to stabilize herself.
Michael sucked in a sharp breath.
His brothers turned away screaming laughing.
âMikey is done.â
Michael wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
Because now he was painfully aware of everything.
The water dripping slowly down Y/Nâs skin.
The coconut sunscreen smell surrounding her.
The fact she was wearing his sunglasses.
And most importantly: the very obvious problem he was desperately trying to hide while Y/N clung to him in the middle of the pool.
Michael grabbed her waist quickly to keep both of them from tipping over.
âYou okay?â he asked, voice noticeably strained.
Y/N nodded breathlessly.
âI hate this stupid deep pool.â
Michael laughed weakly.
Except now Y/N noticed something too.
Not the full situation.
But definitely the tension.
The way his hands tightened carefully at her waist.
The way he kept avoiding eye contact.
The fact his entire face was pink now.
And honestly? Y/N wasnât doing much better herself.
Because Michael this close felt genuinely unfair.
His chest warm beneath her hands.
His curls damp and falling into his eyes.
His arms flexing slightly every time he steadied her in the water.
And the way he looked at her completely flustered and overwhelmed and trying so hard to stay respectful despite very obviously malfunctioning.
Y/N suddenly became very aware of how close their faces were.
âHuh,â she said softly before she could stop herself.
Michael blinked.
ââŠWhat?â
âYou look really pretty like this.â
Michael nearly short-circuited on the spot.
Jermaine collapsed into one of the lounge chairs laughing while Tito slapped the table dramatically.
Michael groaned quietly, dropping his forehead briefly against Y/Nâs shoulder in complete defeat while she laughed helplessly against him.
And somehow neither of them made any effort to move apart.
ââË.â
The sun was beginning to soften by the time they left the pool.
Everything felt warm and lazy in that golden late afternoon way California summers always did.
Music still drifted faintly from somewhere inside the house while the grass stayed hot beneath bare feet and the air smelled like sunscreen and chlorine.
And somewhere across the backyard, Y/N L/N was currently losing her mind over a llama. Specifically Louie.
Michael sat on the back steps with a towel around his shoulders and watched in helpless amusement while his best friend ran dramatically across the grass trying to feed Louie strawberries.
âLouie!â she gasped. âSave the drama for you llama!â
Louie stared blankly at her.
Michael laughed softly under his breath.
She really did talk to animals like they were people.
Y/N held another strawberry out toward the llama carefully.
âYou just get me emotionally, donât you?â
Louie sneezed directly in her face. Y/N did not move an inch.
Michael laughed really hard at that.
âOh my God!â
Y/N wiped her cheek dramatically while glaring at the llama in betrayal.
âI thought we had something special going on, Louie.â
Her laughter echoed across the yard a second later anyway.
Bright. Contagious.
Real enough that Michael found himself smiling before he even realized it.
Because Y/N laughed with her whole body. Throwing her head back. Clutching her stomach. Nearly stumbling over herself every single time.
And Michael loved making her laugh more than almost anything.
Which was maybe a problem. A very big problem.
âYou got it bad, donât you?â
Michael startled slightly.
Bill stood beside the porch railing holding a soda, watching Y/N chase Louie around the yard with open amusement.
Michael immediately looked back toward the grass.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
Bill snorted.
âMichael.â
Across the lawn Y/N was now attempting to braid flowers into the llamaâs fur.
Louie looked deeply exhausted by her existence already.
Michael smiled again without meaning to.
Bill noticed immediately.
âMm-hm.â
Michael realized too late heâd done it again.
Done the stupid soft smile.
The one everybody kept noticing lately whenever Y/N was around.
Michael cleared his throat awkwardly.
âSheâs just funny.â
Bill looked at him flatly.
âBoy.â
Michael groaned quietly, dragging one hand down his face.
âPlease donât do this.â
âDo what?â
âThe talk.â
Bill burst out laughing.
âThe talk?â
âYes.â
âYou twenty something old scared of a conversation?â
Michael looked genuinely distressed. âYes.â
Meanwhile Y/N finally succeeded in placing one flower crookedly behind Louieâs ear.
âOh my God,â she whispered to the llama. âYouâre gorgeous.â
Michael chuckled at her, feeling helpless again.
Bill crossed his arms.
âYou look happier around her.â
Michaelâs smile faded slightly at that. Not entirely, just enough to become softer. Because the annoying part was that Bill was right.
Michael looked back toward the yard quietly while Y/N rammed dramatically into Louieâs side trying to hug him.
âSheâs different,â Michael admitted softly.
Bill hummed knowingly.
âHow?â
Michael took a second to answer. Because truth be told? He didnât even fully know himself.
âShe doesnâtâŠâ He paused. âShe doesnât look at me like everybody else does.â
Bill stayed quiet.
So Michael kept going.
âShe just comes over and steals my food and makes fun of my clothes and talks during movies.â He smiled to himself faintly. âAnd when Iâm around her I donât gotta think so hard.â
Billâs expression softened at that and he clicked his tongue.
Because Michael spent most of his life thinking too hard.
Overworking.
Overanalyzing.
Overperforming.
But around Y/N? He looked light. Young again.
Like the fame disappeared for a little while.
Bill glanced toward the backyard where Y/N was now laying in the grass beside Louie dramatically.
âShe likes you too, you know.â
Michael nearly choked.
âWhat?â He blurted out desperately and ridiculously fast.
Bill looked amused now.
âMichael,â
âNo no no.â Michael sat up straighter immediately. âWeâre friends.â
âMhm.â
âWe are.â
Bill took one sip of his soda.
âShe wears your sunglasses.â
Michael froze. âThat doesnât mean anything.â
âShe nearly drowned looking at you shirtless.â
Michael turned bright red instantly, feeling his cheeks warming up. âWell, that was an accident!â
Bill snorted. âAnd you almost passed out when she climbed on top of you in the pool.â
Michael buried his face into the towel he held immediately.
âOh my God.â He let out, his voice muffled.
âSon, everybody sees this except you two.â
Michael groaned dramatically into the towel.
Because unfortunately he knew Bill was right.
He did feel different around Y/N.
Too aware of her all the time.
Too happy whenever she showed up unexpectedly.
Too nervous whenever she looked pretty.
And today? It had been particularly catastrophic for him.
Especially the pool.
Especially Y/N wearing his glasses and clinging to him in the water with her legs wrapped around his waist while he fought for his actual life.
Michael groaned, face still in the towel. âBill, I think Iâm dying.â
Bill burst out laughing.
âNo, son. I think you just got feelings.â He added between laughs.
Michael looked genuinely horrified by the concept.
Before he could answer thoughâ
âMICHAEL!â
Both of them looked up.
Y/N stood halfway across the lawn waving excitedly while Louie wandered behind her aimlessly.
âYour llama likes me more than you now!â
Michael smiled automatically.
Completely helpless.
Bill watched him for exactly one second before laughing quietly to himself and walking away.
Warnings: A lot of talk about childbirth, labor, and possibly inaccurate medical terms. Mentions of storing and freezing the placenta. Segments using swear words and being involved with the delivery (except 8, he's a minor). Segment 35 (Omega), being a little possessive and self-centered as always. No smut, but mentioned and implied nsfw.
Sitting in the labor room, you held the red scarlet-eyed baby in your arms, stroking the infant's tuft of blue hair every now and then. Segment 8, or "Little Doctor" as you like to call him, leaned over the side to look at the newborn, an innocent sort of curiosity brimming in his very own pair of red eyes.
Your baby was born healthy, looking just like a mix of both you and Zandik. He'd helped deliver it himself, muttering about how he trusted no one but him to take the task upon himself.
Well, technically, it was just Segment 25 who helped with the main task; the others volunteered themselves with other stuff, such as weighing the baby, stitching your tears up, cleaning the blood, storing your placenta and umbilical cord for research purposes, etc.
All the segments insisted on helping out, even Little Doctor, who unfortunately had to sit outside for most of the labor but was eventually allowed in to see the baby and check on you. Everyone's main goal was to ensure the mother and newborn were both safe and healthy.
Now that everything was successfully executed, you and the newborn were both taking a small, well-earned nap. All the adult segments turned to look at one another with suspicion.
Who the fuck was the baby's real father?
They all had slept with you, came inside of you, so the possibility that one of them was the father was 20%.
Except they were all Zandiks.
They all had the same DNA, the same blood. They might as well all be identical twins, if identical twins were all the segment of a man who died a century ago.
"Well? What were we all even expecting? That the baby would be born, and we could take a DNA test to verify the paternity? We all share the same blood dipshits. Ever thought of that?" Segment 18 spat out, looking at the other older segments after they'd all stepped out.
Segment 25 merely took off his mask and gloves, opting to let the other Segments deal with the guy instead.
"We were hoping to keep the peace until the baby was born to keep our Lady's pregnancy smooth. You know she gets troubled when we all get into unnecessary fights." Segment 65 explained, stepping closer to your door to make sure it was locked in case their argument woke you up. "A miscarriage would've been tragic. Besides, we all had our own goals to accomplish during this period. I doubt Omega is going to let you have a share of the placenta."
Omega, or Segment 35, who snuck off to the side to keep your placenta in a freezer, shot them all a dirty look. "How rude! Preserving the placenta has it's benefits-"
"We never said it didn't. But must you be so greedy as to keep it for yourself?" Segment 45 cuts off.
"-because I am the most research-oriented out of all of us, one who shall produce the most fulfilling results. In case of a genetic disease or a tumor, it will prove to be very useful." He preened
"You talk as if you're the real father." scoffs Segment 18.
"Well, of course I am. Who else but I could produce such brilliant progeny."
The comment riled up Segment 18, who walked up to Omega's face, his sharp teeth bare, "So sure of yourself, aren't you, old man? You sure your sperm can even swim that far? Your cock get that hard? Well, getting erect would be no problem for such a beauty; however, I bet her fallopian tubes shriveled the moment you got in you son of a-"
"Alright, alright. There's no need to stir up a ruckus right here," said Segment 25, wiping his hands dry on a towel, clearly the most tired of them all.
Unlike the other Segments, he had to be on-call and close to you that day, and hence had stayed by you till the moment you had pushed the baby out. "She's still inside, sleeping, taking a well-earned nap before one of us has to wake her from her blissful slumber in two hours to take her vitals again. Not to mention, we will need to attend to my newborn as well. For now, we could all take a moment, Segment 8 will alert us should anything happen-"
"What do you mean, 'my newborn'?" Segment 45 butts in, "You didn't even try to debate whether the child is yours or not."
"Well, of course, because it is mine. Only fools fight over what's not theirs-"
"Get a load of this asshole-"
"Can we all take this somewhere else, the baby might wake up-"
"Dottore!" a voice booms from down the hall, along with the sound of multiple footsteps.
All Segments turned around to see The Regrator, Pantalone, along with a few Fatui agents carrying many boxes and bags with them.
"I believe congratulations are in order? How is the missus and the baby?" asked Pantalone.
"Who let this guy know about her labor? I thought we were to keep this information from the other Harbingers," sneered Segment 25.
"And you certainly did, I assure you. No one other than me knows about this little joy of yours. I only happened to find out about this because the 8-year-old segment seemed quite anxious about not being let into the operating room. Seeing as you did not hesitate to let him watch the dissection of the original Zandik, my only conclusion about not allowing him in the operating room was that your wife was giving birth. That, and the fact I hadn't seen her for quite some time. Seemed easy to deduce." The Regrator stated, shrugging and rustling his fur coat.
"And what if it was a surgery like, say, an appendectomy? What use are the gifts then?" Segment 18 pointed out.
"Then I believe that you must get started on producing a progeny, no? Anyway, I've brought a few tokens of goodwill. I hope you'll accept them from a friend."
"Leave them out here. She's sleeping, and we'd rather not disturb her or the baby." Segment 65 said, pointing towards a table for the gifts to be kept. "We'll let her know of them as soon as she's able to concern herself with things other than herself and the baby. I hope you understand she's not in the condition to receive guests at the moment."
"That's alright." The Regrator signed his agents to keep the presents on the table and take their leave.
"Speaking of not disturbing the baby, though, what were all of you arguing about? Well, it's not rare to see each of you in disagreement with the other. Rather, it happens pretty often to be rare. But an opportunity that brings all of you together to have such a conflict......."
"We were discussing who the real father of the baby is," said Segment 18.
Pantalone nodded in understanding.
"I'd hardly call that a discussion. But does it truly matter? All of you are the same person, and hence, similar at your core. I'm sure the child would benefit from having multiple parental figures. I wouldn't call it a major issue."
"It is." Said all the Zandiks there in unison.
"Dear Feofan, it seems you still don't understand us all, even when you are a dear friend of ours. We all may be derived of the same Zandik, but as Dottore, we're all different," Omega explained, "Our values, our approach to research, our research, and our view of this world, they all differ due to the number of memories we carry. Determining the true father is determining whose legacy will be carried on. It isn't as simple as 'raising a child'."
".......so it has to do with your ego," Pantalone cheeked.
"How rude, I have genuine affection towards my wife and my child," said Omega.
"There he goes again," Segment 45 groaned, rolling his eyes.
"Oh my god, it's MY baby you twat," argued Segment 18.
"Well, you're certainly not raising my child with that mouth of yours," said Segment 65 calmly.
"Gents, gents," Pantalone raised his hands, trying to mitigate and calm down all the Dottores before it would escalate, lest they end up dissecting another one of them again.
"I have a solution. How about you solve this the way you know best? You're all intelligent and highly educated individuals; surely you can come to a conclusion amongst yourselves."
All the Zandiks looked at each other, as if they had never considered that idea.
"Determining the father of the baby through research. We can't do a DNA test, but....." mused Segment 45.
"Surely, only DNA can't be the only factor to determine the paternity," suggested Segment 18.
"If we can't find a way to find a match with blood, tissue, or DNA, we could always narrow down the possibility of one of us being the father by calculating the fertility factor of our sperm, the time between conception and delivery, and the general condition of the mother and the baby during pregnancy," Segment 35 muttered.
Pantalone sighed, seemingly relieved that he had managed to prevent another Zandik from being dissected today.
"I must, however, object to executing this plan right now," said Segment 25, "her postpartum period is to last for at the very least 2 months, and we have a newborn to care for as well."
"Naturally," all Segments agreed and nodded.
"Then," smirked Omega, "we shall have a time limit of 2 months to conduct our research. Whosoever manages to bring concrete proof along with the timeline and convinces everyone that the baby is theirs shall get to claim the progeny and raise them. Do we all agree?"
"Yes," said all the Segments.
"Then shall I volunteer as a referee? You know, as a neutral party, to keep things nice and fair?" asked Pantalone.
"Of course, friend. You're more than welcome to invite yourself to my research discussions. You are, after all, the one funding all of our experiments," said Omega gleefully.
Pantalone watched with interest as all of the Segments dismissed themselves, some going to rest after what he assumed was a long day of being in the delivery room, others sprinting to their assigned labs to get a head start on their research, while the rest stayed to be available for you.
'Ah,' Pantalone thought to himself, stepping outside and pulling out a cigarette, 'this whole ordeal shall be quite entertaining.'
@luminarylorecat Do not repost, translate, adapt, feed into AI, or claim this work. Reblogs and links are appreciated; copying and reuploading are not.
He asks you something and you struggle to answer? He's leaning all up in your face and waiting, even if its only making you struggle more. working on something? He's leaning over your shoulder and talking in your ear and yes hes definitely doing that on purpose and honestly if he presses up against you and digs his chin into your shoulder any harder you'd think he's trying to be your own shoulder bird mantle cape thing whatever
He keeps a very respectful workplace distance of an inch between you two when you're talking to someone else. he starts fiddling with your clothes if the conversation isn't very engaging. pinch him at your own discretion.
He asks you something and you struggle to answer? He's leaning all up in your face and waiting, even if its only making you struggle more. working on something? He's leaning over your shoulder and talking in your ear and yes hes definitely doing that on purpose and honestly if he presses up against you and digs his chin into your shoulder any harder you'd think he's trying to be your own shoulder bird mantle cape thing whatever
He keeps a very respectful workplace distance of an inch between you two when you're talking to someone else. he starts fiddling with your clothes if the conversation isn't very engaging. pinch him at your own discretion.
SUMMARY: Michael realizes he has feelings for his best friend.
CONTENT: inspired by the twister and pool scenes in âMichaelâ. Friends with feelings for each other. Fluff. This will probably be a small series! lmk what you guys think.
There was one thing Michael Jackson still hated admitting.
He got lonely easily.
Especially in that weird in-between stage of his life where everything felt like it was changing too fast.
Off the Wall had exploded.
People looked at him differently now.
The pressure was bigger.
The expectations louder.
And somehow the house in Encino felt emptier because of it.
Tonight was supposed to help.
Michael had spent an embarrassingly long time setting up Twister in the living room because heâd convinced himself his brothers would actually play with him for once.
âCâmon,â he tried again, holding up the box dramatically while his brothers grabbed jackets near the front door. âJust one game.â
âWe already got plans, Mike.â
âWeâre late.â
âWeâll play another time.â
Michaelâs shoulders slumped slightly.
âBut you saidââ
âAnother night, man.â
The front door shut behind them.
Silence.
Michael stared at the bright Twister mat spread across the carpet for a second too long before quietly sitting down beside it.
From the kitchen, Katherine Jackson looked over sympathetically.
âOh babyâŠâ
âIâm fine,â Michael muttered immediately.
Which meant he absolutely wasnât.
Meanwhile, from his armchair, Joe Jackson barely glanced up from the television.
âYou too old to be sulking over games.â
Katherine shot him a sharp look immediately.
Michael just looked down at the mat.
And then the doorbell rang.
Katherine moved to answer it, and seconds later a familiar voice drifted through the hallway.
âMrs. Jackson, my mom said you forgot your baking dish againââ
Then Y/N L/N appeared in the living room doorway and stopped mid-sentence.
Because spread across the floor was Twister.
Her entire face lit up instantly.
âOh my God.â
Michael looked up slowly.
Y/N pointed aggressively at the mat.
âAre we playing Twister?â
Michael blinked once.
ââŠYou wanna play?â
âMichael.â She looked genuinely offended. âI love Twister.â
And just like that, something heavy in his chest loosened instantly.
Because Y/N always did this somehow.
She was the Jacksonsâ neighbor in Encino. Loud, funny, dramatic Y/N who showed up unexpectedly and filled rooms without even trying.
Katherine adored her.
Joe absolutely did not.
âShe distracts him,â he always grumbled whenever she came around.
Which honestly? Only became more true with time.
Because Michael looked at Y/N differently than he looked at everybody else.
Like he could breathe easier around her.
Even if neither of them fully realized why yet.
Y/N dropped onto the floor beside the mat dramatically.
âSet it up.â
Michael laughed softly for the first time all evening.
âItâs already set up.â
âOh.â Y/N crossed her legs. âSo this is serious.â
ââË.â
Twister turned out to be a horrible idea immediately.
Mostly because Y/N cheated constantly.
âYou moved your foot!â
âI adjusted it.â
âThatâs cheating.â
âItâs called strategy.â
Michael laughed so hard he nearly collapsed onto the mat.
God, He needed this.
Needed someone who didnât treat him like a celebrity or a machine or the future of music.
Just Michael.
At one point Y/N got completely tangled beneath his arm and burst into helpless laughter.
âWeâre stuck.â
âMove your hand.â
âI literally canât.â
âYouâre dramatic.â
âYeah, well, you like that about me.â
Michael opened his mouth automatically.
Paused.
Then smiled shyly instead. âI actually do.â
Y/N blinked at him for half a second too long before immediately looking away.
Because sometimes Michael smiled at her and her brain genuinely stopped functioning for a moment.
Not that sheâd ever admit that out loud.
Meanwhile Katherine watched the entire thing from the kitchen trying not to smile too obviously.
Joe, unfortunately, noticed too. And he didnât like it one bit.
Because Michael had spent all week locked in the studio obsessing over demos and rehearsals and choreography. Focused. Disciplined.
Then Y/N showed up and suddenly he was sprawled across the floor laughing over Twister like the weight of the world wasnât sitting on his shoulders anymore.
Joe frowned.
âBoyâs distracted.â
Katherine looked at him flatly.
âBoyâs happy.â
Joe didnât answer.
ââË.â
Eventually the game dissolved into complete chaos because Y/N stopped following the rules entirely.
Then somehow they ended up on the couch with multiple cartons of ice cream spread across the coffee table while an old black-and-white movie played softly in the background.
Y/N sat curled into the corner beneath a fuzzy blanket sheâd stolen from Michaelâs room earlier.
âThis,â she declared seriously around a spoonful of strawberry ice cream, âis the peak human existence.â
Michael laughed softly beside her.
âYou say that about everything.â
âOnly because I appreciate the beauty in life.â
âYou said mozzarella sticks changed your life last week.â
âBut they did, Mikey!â
Michael shook his head fondly.
She was absolutely ridiculous.
But tonight something warm settled quietly in his chest every time she made him laugh. Because earlier sheâd noticed he was upset immediately.
And instead of brushing it off or teasing him, she stayed. Like his feelings mattered.
Like he mattered.
And Michael didnât realize how badly he needed that until now.
The movie played softly.
The lights stayed low.
Y/Nâs voice slowly got quieter and quieter while she rambled about how old movies needed âbetter kissing scenes.â
Then, eventually, silence.
Michael glanced sideways and froze slightly.
Because Y/N had fallen asleep against his shoulder.
Still holding the spoon.
Michael smiled instantly.
Carefully, trying not to wake her, he adjusted the blanket higher around her shoulders.
And for a second he just sat there looking at her.
At the way her hair spilled against his arm.
The faint remains of eyeliner beneath her eyes.
The tiny pout she always got when she slept.
Something in Michaelâs chest ached suddenly, warm in a way he didnât fully understand yet.
A few minutes later Katherine walked into the living room and immediately stopped.
Because there they were.
Michael sitting perfectly still so Y/N could sleep comfortably against him.
The empty ice cream cartons abandoned everywhere.
The old movie flickering softly across both their faces.
Katherineâs expression melted instantly.
âOh,â she whispered softly.
Then Joe appeared behind her.
And immediately frowned.
âThere she goes again,â he muttered. âDistracting him.â
Katherine looked ready to argue until Michael glanced up briefly.
And the look on his face stopped her. Because her son looked peaceful.
Not exhausted. Not pressured. Not overwhelmed.
Just happy. Safe, even.
Like for one evening he got to simply be a young man sitting on the couch with his best friend instead of carrying the weight of becoming Michael Jackson.
Katherine smiled quietly to herself.
Meanwhile Michael looked back down at Y/N sleeping against him and smiled too.
Small.
Private.
Completely gone for her.
Even if he didnât know it yet.
ââË.â
A few days after the Twister episode, the California heat had turned the Jackson backyard into something straight out of a magazine ad.
The pool shimmered bright blue beneath the sun.
Music drifted softly from outdoor speakers.
And floating lazily in the middle of the water was Michael Jackson with a notebook balanced against his bare chest, completely lost inside his own head.
One arm dangled into the water while he scribbled lyrics messily across the page, humming little melodies beneath his breath every few seconds.
His dark curls were slightly damp from the heat already, and his aviator sunglasses rested low on his nose while he concentrated so hard he barely noticed anything else around him.
Michael always got like this while writing.
Tunnel vision.
Obsessive.
Like the song became the only thing existing in the world.
Which was exactly why his brothers chose that moment to interrupt him.
âWhat are you doing?â Jermaine asked while stepping outside with Marlon and Tito trailing behind him.
Michael barely glanced up from the notebook.
âWorking.â
Jermaine stared flatly at the inflatable raft.
âYouâre writing music in a pool.â
âIâm thinking.â
âYou look ridiculous.â
Michael ignored him completely, scribbling something down quickly before muttering the melody beneath his breath again.
Tito leaned closer.
âWhatâs got you acting possessed now?â
Michael finally sat up slightly, curls falling into his face while he pointed the pencil toward them dramatically.
âI gotta finish this.â
âYouâre at the pool, Mike.â
Michael sighed heavily.
âIf I donât finish it, Godâs gonna give it to Prince.â
His brothers exploded laughing immediately.
âThat is not how music works!â
âYes it is.â
âYou are insane.â
Michael pointed accusingly at them.
âYou laugh now but when Prince releases this six months later donât come crying to me.â
Jermaine cried-laughed.
And then the back door slid open.
Michael looked up automatically. Big mistake.
Because Y/N L/N stepped outside.
And every coherent thought immediately left his body.
She looked like actual summer personified, wearing a tiny red-and-white checkered bikini tied at her hips with little bows, her hair piled messily on top of her head while oversized aviator sunglasses sat on her nose.
Michaelâs aviator sunglasses.
The realization hit him instantly.
âOh my God,â Jermaine whispered-yelled beside him immediately. âShe stole your glasses.â
Michael barely heard anything.
Because Y/N was already walking barefoot toward the pool, sunlight glowing against her skin while the sunglasses practically swallowed half her face.
And somehow the fact she was casually wearing his things made the situation ten times worse for him.
âOh!â Y/N smiled brightly when she spotted everyone. âHi boys.â
And somehow her brain had never fully processed that possibility before.
Which now actually felt medically concerning.
The sunlight reflected against the water onto his skin while he sat stretched across the float in black swim trunks, curls messy from the heat, lean chest lightly glistening beneath the afternoon sun.
Y/N actually forgot what she was doing for a second.
âOh my God,â she blurted out before she could stop herself. âYouâre shirtless.â
One of his brothers made a strangled noise immediately, trying to suppress a laugh.
Michael blinked once.
ââŠYeah?â
âIâve literally never seen that before.â
Michael sat up straighter automatically. Which somehow only made everything worse.
Because now Y/N got an even better look at him.
And Michael got a very clear look at Y/N staring.
âOh this is bad,â Marlon whispered gleefully.
Michael tried looking back down at the notebook again pretending very hard to focus.
Unfortunately his body had already betrayed him.
Because Y/N kept walking closer to the edge of the pool adjusting his sunglasses and smiling at him in that absentmindedly sweet way she always did.
Michael shifted awkwardly against the float.
Immediately realizing the problem.
Oh.
Oh, no, He thought.
Actual panic flashed across his face for half a second. Because now Y/N was kneeling beside the pool and Michael suddenly became very aware that his swim trunks were doing absolutely nothing to hide the situation developing in real time.
Jermaine noticed instantly.
And the grin spreading across his face became genuinely evil.
âOh my GOD.â
Michael snapped his head toward him immediately.
âShut up.â
âYou are fighting for your life right now, arenât you?â
âI hate you.â
Y/N looked between them suspiciously.
âWhatâs happening?â
âNothing!â Michael answered way too fast and his brothers nearly collapsed laughing.
Meanwhile Y/N narrowed her eyes briefly before shrugging.
âAnywayâŠâ
And before anyone could react, she jumped directly into the deep end of the pool.
Then immediately regretted it.
âOh my God WAITââ
Y/N resurfaced flailing dramatically because she was way too short to comfortably touch the bottom.
âY/Nâ" Michael started, but she launched herself at him without hesitation.
Michael barely steadied the float in time before Y/N practically climbed onto him in panic, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders while she tried to keep herself above water.
The float tipped dangerously sideways beneath them.
And suddenly Y/N was pressed directly against him.
Chest to chest.
Legs tangled beneath the water.
Her thighs brushing his waist while she clung to him breathlessly.
Michael stopped breathing entirely.
Because this was already catastrophic before Y/N accidentally shifted against his lap trying to stabilize herself.
Michael sucked in a sharp breath.
His brothers turned away screaming laughing.
âMikey is done.â
Michael wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
Because now he was painfully aware of everything.
The water dripping slowly down Y/Nâs skin.
The coconut sunscreen smell surrounding her.
The fact she was wearing his sunglasses.
And most importantly: the very obvious problem he was desperately trying to hide while Y/N clung to him in the middle of the pool.
Michael grabbed her waist quickly to keep both of them from tipping over.
âYou okay?â he asked, voice noticeably strained.
Y/N nodded breathlessly.
âI hate this stupid deep pool.â
Michael laughed weakly.
Except now Y/N noticed something too.
Not the full situation.
But definitely the tension.
The way his hands tightened carefully at her waist.
The way he kept avoiding eye contact.
The fact his entire face was pink now.
And honestly? Y/N wasnât doing much better herself.
Because Michael this close felt genuinely unfair.
His chest warm beneath her hands.
His curls damp and falling into his eyes.
His arms flexing slightly every time he steadied her in the water.
And the way he looked at her completely flustered and overwhelmed and trying so hard to stay respectful despite very obviously malfunctioning.
Y/N suddenly became very aware of how close their faces were.
âHuh,â she said softly before she could stop herself.
Michael blinked.
ââŠWhat?â
âYou look really pretty like this.â
Michael nearly short-circuited on the spot.
Jermaine collapsed into one of the lounge chairs laughing while Tito slapped the table dramatically.
Michael groaned quietly, dropping his forehead briefly against Y/Nâs shoulder in complete defeat while she laughed helplessly against him.
And somehow neither of them made any effort to move apart.
ââË.â
The sun was beginning to soften by the time they left the pool.
Everything felt warm and lazy in that golden late afternoon way California summers always did.
Music still drifted faintly from somewhere inside the house while the grass stayed hot beneath bare feet and the air smelled like sunscreen and chlorine.
And somewhere across the backyard, Y/N L/N was currently losing her mind over a llama. Specifically Louie.
Michael sat on the back steps with a towel around his shoulders and watched in helpless amusement while his best friend ran dramatically across the grass trying to feed Louie strawberries.
âLouie!â she gasped. âSave the drama for you llama!â
Louie stared blankly at her.
Michael laughed softly under his breath.
She really did talk to animals like they were people.
Y/N held another strawberry out toward the llama carefully.
âYou just get me emotionally, donât you?â
Louie sneezed directly in her face. Y/N did not move an inch.
Michael laughed really hard at that.
âOh my God!â
Y/N wiped her cheek dramatically while glaring at the llama in betrayal.
âI thought we had something special going on, Louie.â
Her laughter echoed across the yard a second later anyway.
Bright. Contagious.
Real enough that Michael found himself smiling before he even realized it.
Because Y/N laughed with her whole body. Throwing her head back. Clutching her stomach. Nearly stumbling over herself every single time.
And Michael loved making her laugh more than almost anything.
Which was maybe a problem. A very big problem.
âYou got it bad, donât you?â
Michael startled slightly.
Bill stood beside the porch railing holding a soda, watching Y/N chase Louie around the yard with open amusement.
Michael immediately looked back toward the grass.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
Bill snorted.
âMichael.â
Across the lawn Y/N was now attempting to braid flowers into the llamaâs fur.
Louie looked deeply exhausted by her existence already.
Michael smiled again without meaning to.
Bill noticed immediately.
âMm-hm.â
Michael realized too late heâd done it again.
Done the stupid soft smile.
The one everybody kept noticing lately whenever Y/N was around.
Michael cleared his throat awkwardly.
âSheâs just funny.â
Bill looked at him flatly.
âBoy.â
Michael groaned quietly, dragging one hand down his face.
âPlease donât do this.â
âDo what?â
âThe talk.â
Bill burst out laughing.
âThe talk?â
âYes.â
âYou twenty something old scared of a conversation?â
Michael looked genuinely distressed. âYes.â
Meanwhile Y/N finally succeeded in placing one flower crookedly behind Louieâs ear.
âOh my God,â she whispered to the llama. âYouâre gorgeous.â
Michael chuckled at her, feeling helpless again.
Bill crossed his arms.
âYou look happier around her.â
Michaelâs smile faded slightly at that. Not entirely, just enough to become softer. Because the annoying part was that Bill was right.
Michael looked back toward the yard quietly while Y/N rammed dramatically into Louieâs side trying to hug him.
âSheâs different,â Michael admitted softly.
Bill hummed knowingly.
âHow?â
Michael took a second to answer. Because truth be told? He didnât even fully know himself.
âShe doesnâtâŠâ He paused. âShe doesnât look at me like everybody else does.â
Bill stayed quiet.
So Michael kept going.
âShe just comes over and steals my food and makes fun of my clothes and talks during movies.â He smiled to himself faintly. âAnd when Iâm around her I donât gotta think so hard.â
Billâs expression softened at that and he clicked his tongue.
Because Michael spent most of his life thinking too hard.
Overworking.
Overanalyzing.
Overperforming.
But around Y/N? He looked light. Young again.
Like the fame disappeared for a little while.
Bill glanced toward the backyard where Y/N was now laying in the grass beside Louie dramatically.
âShe likes you too, you know.â
Michael nearly choked.
âWhat?â He blurted out desperately and ridiculously fast.
Bill looked amused now.
âMichael,â
âNo no no.â Michael sat up straighter immediately. âWeâre friends.â
âMhm.â
âWe are.â
Bill took one sip of his soda.
âShe wears your sunglasses.â
Michael froze. âThat doesnât mean anything.â
âShe nearly drowned looking at you shirtless.â
Michael turned bright red instantly, feeling his cheeks warming up. âWell, that was an accident!â
Bill snorted. âAnd you almost passed out when she climbed on top of you in the pool.â
Michael buried his face into the towel he held immediately.
âOh my God.â He let out, his voice muffled.
âSon, everybody sees this except you two.â
Michael groaned dramatically into the towel.
Because unfortunately he knew Bill was right.
He did feel different around Y/N.
Too aware of her all the time.
Too happy whenever she showed up unexpectedly.
Too nervous whenever she looked pretty.
And today? It had been particularly catastrophic for him.
Especially the pool.
Especially Y/N wearing his glasses and clinging to him in the water with her legs wrapped around his waist while he fought for his actual life.
Michael groaned, face still in the towel. âBill, I think Iâm dying.â
Bill burst out laughing.
âNo, son. I think you just got feelings.â He added between laughs.
Michael looked genuinely horrified by the concept.
Before he could answer thoughâ
âMICHAEL!â
Both of them looked up.
Y/N stood halfway across the lawn waving excitedly while Louie wandered behind her aimlessly.
âYour llama likes me more than you now!â
Michael smiled automatically.
Completely helpless.
Bill watched him for exactly one second before laughing quietly to himself and walking away.
pairings : mature!michael jackson x younger!reader
summary : michael finally realizes he might be too old for you
-masterlist
You were currently sitting on the couch in Michael Jacksonâs mansion, your pink cheeks stained with tears. Your once perfect makeup, had been cried off, mascara running down your cheeks mixed with tears. Michael was sitting on a chair in front of you, his eyes hollow, eyebrows twisted.
âSweetheart Iâm too old for you, youâre 25 and have a full life ahead. Iâve got a good 30 years left in me.â
You stared up at him, his empty eyes staring into yours. You shook your head, licking your lips, breaking eye contact.
âThatâs crazy,â
You huffed, your hand reaching up to swipe away the tears he caused. His eyes never left your trembling body. He hated, I mean hated making you cry. Especially knowing he was the cause of your tears. Your eyes werenât filled with sadness anymore, they were sharp, and fiery now.
âWhy canât you atleast try!â
The couch was now empty, you were on your feet, arms swaying in the air. The tears never stopped flooding your eyes. It was killing Michael.
âYou see someone, yearning for you, wishing they were yours- and you just- run! Run away like you always do!â
At this point, you were practically screaming. The neighbors from down the street could hear the commotion. Michael stood up abruptly, storming towards you, his finger pointed in the air.
âDonât you dare belittle me for doing whatâs best! You donât actually want me! Enough with the games!â
You froze, he never raised his voice at you ever. You stared at him for a good second, his finger still pointed at you. He was breathing heavy, the glasses he once had on were thrown to the ground. As was his once clam demeanor. You werenât gonna stand there and get yelled at by a man who didnât even want you back.
Your lips pressed into a thin line. You walked towards the door your heels clicking loud on the marble floors, grabbing your bag. Then you flipped him off, screaming whatever curse word came at the top of your head, and slammed the front door shut. Michael sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.
The problem was, he did want you. He yearned for you the same way you yearned for him. He just couldnât ruin your life with the problems that came with his fame.
The LOV hated when you appeared in Dabi's vicinity during a frat partyâsome would say it's because you took his attention away from them, but It's just because they hated third-wheeling.
Or, headcannons about dating Dabi and their opinion on it.
"frat!Dabi"(?) x FEM!Reader
CW/TW: fluff , parties , smoking , cringe (?), might be ooc , lost the plot mid-way / None .
The music boomed through the speakers, neon lights illuminating people with bright red and blues huesâ the beer and wine poured on the dirty floor exposed by the light.
Though it didn't seem to disturb the young teenagers dancing on the dance floor.
Nor did it disturb the group of friends squatting the couch in the living room.
"Shigsss, can't you stop playing these complicated games and come dance?" Toga whined, hands shaking Tenko's shoulders.
"Can't," he answered quickly, eyes not even bothering to look away from his controler as he resumed his game. "Ask twice or somethin'."
"I don't even know where he is," she grumbled, turning to look at the charcoal haired man playing next to Tenko. "Dabi~"
"Nah." He said with no hesitation, side eyeing the girl before continuing the game. "Lock the fuck in, scores goin' down." He shouted to the guy beside him, eyes twitching as they both started grumbling under their breath.
Toga sighed, not even bothering to stay with the two as she wondered around. Eventually stumbling upon a familiar face.
"[Name]!!" She shouted. "You don't know how glad I am to see youuuuuu!" She ran to you, envelopping your body in her arms. "The boys are such loosers, they can't even dance!"
You chuckled, hugging her back. "You know how they are," you looked around, eyeing the door leading to the living room. "They in here?"
"Uh-uhm no not really! How about we go to the bar real quick?!"
"I just saw you leave there though?" You walked toward the door confused, each time you were a step closer to the room she didn't want you to go in.
"[Name]! How about we just...ugh." After the groan she let out, she stopped leading you away as she just watched the opportunity of having fun disappear infront her eyes.
"Wassup?" You greeted the guys, stepping closer to the TV. "Hey babe."
There was a reason Toga didn't want you to go in there. You were the only fun one in this place, and you seeing Dabi just for one second would mean losing a baddie because you and Touya are glued to the hips.
Shigaraki wasn't out of this either, the second Dabi heard your voiceâthe controler was put aside when he stood up to hug you, which resulted to them losing the game. Every-fucking-time you came.
Spinner didn't have any problem with you and Dabi as he was too busy with the music, but each time he saw you two leave a room, he snickered because he knows Toga and Tenko are annoyed at this moment.
Tenko more than Toga because atleastâToga gets to see you outside of clubs and out of the frat, He literally has to wait until YOU come here so he can play with the loverboy. The only reason being that Touya hates going there without you.
It doesn't get better because Twice tells Dabi that it's annoying for their gaming sessions, and the only thing he says is "y'all can wait, no?" And "You'll understand when you get bitches.". And while he try to reason him, Sako resorts to his dramatics which distracts twice and gives Dabi a way to leave the conversationâthat for him, is completely useless.
All that, just to say he doesn't care. And don't even try and tell him "bros before hoes." Not even them have the card to call his girl a hoe, and she's more important than them anyway.
While the others were all grumbling under their breath, You and Dabi walked upstairâgetting away from the loud music and shouts to get time for ourselves. The balcony was quiet, cars rumbling in the distance and lights dim under the obscurity of the night.
You leaned on the rail, watching the city be alive as Dabi faced the door with his back against the rail. "How long until they crash out?" You said, talking about the group that is downstair.
"They already did," Dabi groaned, head rolling back as he remembers the conversation from last time. "Had me Cornered and sum shit."
You laughed, eyes watching him. "That's too bad." You added, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew their Dabi would be too busy playing the loverboy to spend time with them?"
He flicked your forehead, a wince erupting from you. "Doin' all this for you just to be made fun off?" He smiled, sighing as he pushed his cigarette infront of your mouth. "Not very Nice, little mouse."
Taking the cigarette in your mouth, you blowed the smoke as you smirked. "Just kidding babe," you said. "Though we'll have to calm down because I don't want them to hate me, y'know."
"The fuck, no?" He barked. "As if they would hate you anyway."
"Whatchu mean?" You raised an eyebrow at that, watching him sigh and throw his head back.
"They act annoyed, but these mf's actually like you," he started. "Even if they did hate youâthey don't have a choice but to stay with your clingy ass."
"Says the guy that ditch his day ones for a random girl." You teased, watching as he grinned.
