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#but idk what to do about that. you’d think I would after like four years of being out to people
iamthemaestro · 5 months
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I realize I think a lot about my life in terms of “maybe when I’m a boy…” my brother in christ. maybe you are an EGG
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yueebby · 27 days
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Ok so this is a random and weird scenario i thought of after watching some INTERESTING videos on YouTube, I know but I just need to tell someone(it involves lovesick!Gojo- and no this isn’t a request, more like a rant😭)
imagine- it’s summer and all the second year students are sweating and want something cool to eat. Satoru randomly brings in a watermelon and challenges the others to try and open it without any cursed energy or a knife, just pure raw strength. Nobody can do it except him and he laughs a bit before reader crushes the watermelon between her thighs and opens it just like that…IDK Y I THOUGHT OF THIS AND IDK HOW HE WOULD REACT TO THAT BUT I IMAGINE HE WOULD BE RED IN THE FACE AND LIKE ‘me next🙋‍♂️’ IM SRY IM AWARE THIS IS VERY WEIRD😭😭
2:35pm — gojo satoru
synopsis. a certain challenge makes gojo go feral for you
contents. fluff, CRACK, lovesick!gojo, he is (highkey) a pervert, everyone in jujutsu tech is sick of him
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“The one and only Gojo Satoru is here to save the day~” The familiar drawl of a sing-song voice calls over the sound of the dingy fan that you and Shoko were huddling in front of. Both of you were sprawled on a tatami mat with the door wide hoping, hoping to catch a gust of wind.
The grin adorned on his face didn't falter when his only response was three annoyed groans.
“It is way too hot for your antics Gojo,” You look up from the fan to half heartedly glare at the white haired boy in front of you. He stares at you, blue eyes slightly wider than usual before he gulps. You brush it off, knowing that you probably looked like a mess, considering you had just finished training in the sweltering Tokyo heat.
Your usual uniform is long gone, replaced with the dress shirt that you wear below it. Even with the undershirt and your skirt, you’re still suffering from the particularly hot day, skin glowing in the sun as a silent testament.
Gojo is forcibly kicked out of his trance upon Suguru harshly bumping shoulders with him.
“Show them what we got,” Suguru’s smooth voice says. Your eyes follow down to whatever he was referring to.
Without any difficulty, Satoru holds up a large watermelon proudly. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight of the large green fruit. How refreshing!
“Ah you didn’t have to go through the trouble after your mission, Suguru!” You leap from your spot, a bright smile painting itself on your face.
The pleased look on Satoru’s face turns sour. “I was the one that brought the watermelon?” He lifts the large fruit, flexing the muscles that were showcased from his dress shirt being cuffed up to his forearms.
“I should be the one getting the thanks, it was my idea to get it in the first place,” Shoko wraps an arm around your shoulder.
The taller boys in front of you look sheepishly away under her stern gaze.
You wrap an affectionate arm around her, “You’d make a good wife one day Shoko.”
Gojo’s jaw drops incredulously, leaning closer into your face, “What about me? [Name]! Wouldn’t I be a good doting husband too?”
You lean away, flustered at his sudden confrontation. His intense blue orbs never leave your face, expectantly waiting for an answer.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shoko snorts, shielding you from his heavy gaze. “Anyways, how are we going to cut this thing? You brought a knife didn’t you?”
There is a long silence shared between the four of you.
You think you see an irk mark appear on Suguru’s forehead.
“I clearly told you to bring a knife from the kitchen,” Suguru snaps his head to his white haired counterpart.
“Must’ve slipped my mind, heh,” Satoru whistles. “We can just break it ourselves, no?”
TEN MINUTES LATER—
“Ready,” Satoru’s smile grows wide. “Go!”
You watch expectantly as Shoko’s hand descends onto the watermelon in a swift chop. To your shock, the watermelon stays unharmed despite the legs of the wooden table below it creaking loudly.
“Wha–?” She furrowed her eyebrows.
Satoru shrugs, “Better stop smoking and start training. You’re falling behind~”
You and Geto have to hold Shoko back from lunging at the smug white haired bastard.
“Next challenger, step up!” Satoru announces.
Fueled with hunger and the desire to get your hands on the juicy watermelon that awaits, you sit down on the cement floor of the school with the watermelon in your lap.
You gently place the fruit in between your thighs, inhaling slowly.
Squish!
The watermelon breaks in half with a crunch.
“Oh,” You blink in shock, surprised that your plan managed to work. “I did it.”
Your joy is short lived when you realize that your legs are sticky as a result of the juices of the fruit. A sheepish smile makes its way onto your lips.
“Gah–?!” Gojo chokes on air as he watches your thighs glisten with the sunlight. Though his mouth is agape, no words seem to escape. He’s nearly certain that the heat rushing throughout his body is not from the sun.
Shoko whistles, squatting down to eye level with your thigh to assess the damage done. She gives your thigh a good squeeze, “Nice legs.”
You’re too flustered to hear Gojo growl from just a couple of feet away at Shoko’s shameless attempt at flirting.
“My face next.”
extras:
- the only reason why satoru forgot to get a knife was because he was practically skipping to you once he got through the gates of jujutsu tech. suguru was nice enough to spare these details from you.
- despite all sorcerers being able to detect cursed energy, gojo satoru is pretty exceptional, being able to mask his cursed energy usage. that, and you were too tired to even notice it. (he lightly coated the watermelon right when each person went up to break it. suguru noticed immediately, but wanted to see how the prank would play out).
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m0nsterqzzz · 2 months
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Something Stupid
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pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
summary: and then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like...."I love you."
content: absolute teeth rotting fluff. pining for each other but wandas is much more intense? tiniest bit of blackhill if you squint.
a/n: had this idea for a while, and I actually kinda like it??? idk. first time for everything. reader is referred to as "sweets" like twice just because I love the nickname. it's what my boyfriend calls me. anyway. love yall!!
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Wanda Maximoff loves you.
She’s known that for years.
She’s known it since she first became an avenger and felt a strange urge to gain your forgiveness over everyone else's after what her and her late-brother Pietro did during the battle against Ultron.
She knew it when you became her best friend, teaching her how to control her magic and really just how to enjoy life.
She knew it when she had to watch as you got ready for dates with people that would never live up to your standards. Not she thought she would live up to your standards- no, she knew she couldn't- but she did know she treat you better then any of those no good pigs who are just looking for a fuck buddy ever good. The witch wouldn’t go up against your suitors though, just standing on the sidelines as her heart slowly breaks faster and faster the more you don’t see her in the same light you do them.
Little she did she know, she was the only one you truly wanted.
So finally, Wanda worked up the courage to ask you out so she no longer had to cry into her pillow while you were out sucking face with someone else.
Surprisingly, you agreed easily. The only thing you had to say was that she had to promise it wouldn’t change anything between you guys for the worse. If it didn’t work, you guys couldn’t become like Natasha and Maria. (those girls can’t be in the same room as each other for more than 2 seconds without making a backhanded comment about their four week long situationship)
The Maximoff girl agreed, eagerly setting up a dinner date.
It had quickly gone wrong.
The reservation was somehow not in the book despite the fact that Wanda called the fancy dinner place with insane prices about six times in the hour-long drive there. So you told her it was fine, that you’d be happy with some food from the delicious Thai place down the road as long as you were with her. But they were out of your favorite and Wanda ate so much that she felt ready to barf as you guys walked out of the restaurant- that was before she actually did barf in the parking lot. 
Finally, you guys headed to a bar near the Avengers tower for a quick nightcap, but that quickly turned into you both downing two drinks each before stumbling onto the dance floor.
A sweet looking old man who’s been reading a comic book in the corner sees you two and decides to put his own change in the jukebox and press play on a slow, but peaceful song. He sends you guys a smile, winking Wanda's way before he continues to read about some cool looking superheroes.
Wanda’s hands fall to your waist, gently gripping them as you both sway. Your head falls to lay on her shoulder, arms wrapped around the back of her neck as the music fills your ears. Her breath is on the back of your neck, warm, but it doesn’t even begin to compare to the feeling of her lips as she places a gentle kiss in that same spot. 
Then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like, “I love you, sweets.”
You roll your eyes, thinking back to how many times people have told you that during first dates just to get in your pants. Though you will admit that when you hear Wanda say it, it brings a small, warm, fluttering feeling to your chest, and you manage to let out a small giggle before you say, “No you don't. You don’t love me Wanda. You like me. There’s a difference.”
She fights the urge to tell you that she knows there is a difference between love and like. She knows that because she’s felt both those ways towards you. Why can’t you just understand that so she doesn’t have to find a way to put it into words?
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After a few days of her saying the same thing and you never believing her, the witch realizes she has to put it in words. Nothing else is capable of explaining how she feels about you. How she’s felt for so long.
So she recruits Natasha and Clint for help, and they spend the day working on some speeches. By 2pm, she has this;
“Are you from Tennessee? Cuz you’re the only ten-I-see.” - A line from Natasha which she used on Maria who was passing by at that moment just to prove to Wanda it works. (Natasha left and was found leaving the agents room an hour later. Apparently that’s back on)
“I love you.” - Clint Barton, the stupidest man on earth. There is a reason people call him bird brain. They were there because the three words are not enough to describe what she feels towards you. Did he even read what was on the brunch invitation? It clearly stated; “fixing Wanda's love life; no I love you’s, no magic town in which she controls so she can make Sweets fall in love with her against their will.”
“Hey, do you have wifi? Cuz I’m really feeling a connection.” - Natasha. She once again used it on Maria and was gone for another two hours. Can someone please address this?
“Start listing facts about the baby turtles you saved. Always gets the ladies.” - from Tony, who was walking by the living room and decided now was the best time to interrupt. He has never once gotten close enough to endangered animals to be able to ‘save’ them, but we can pretend if he wants too.
“Are you a beaver? Cuz dam.” - Natasha. (someone needs to restrain Maria from jumping the redheads bones. She is literally needed at this meeting.)
So, as we can see, no one is any help. 
She decides after that to just go with her gut, and her gut is telling her that you’ll know when the time is right, and hopefully will send her a sign.
Maybe the sign is sooner rather than later.
The witch spends about an hour in her bedroom in front of her mirror, trying on every outfit from sweats and a t-shirt to the 10,000 dollar dress Tony bought her for her birthday. Which clothes would draw your attention to her? She thinks about that alot, which is why she wears different outfits everyday simply in hopes of you sending her a small compliment. She always spends countless amounts of time planning the perfect outfit just to hear you say, “You look pretty Wans.”
Why is this happening to her?
It’s when she sets up a cute little picnic under the stars with all your favorite foods and snacks and a makeshift tv screen with a projector to watch your favorite film do you realize that you are deeply and utterly in love with Wanda Maximoff.
She’s sweet, and pretty. She can always make you laugh when you truly think you no longer can.
And besides all that, she’s your best friend. The one that will stick with you through thick and thin simply because she wants to be beside you.
You can’t help but feel your cheeks beginning to heat up every single time she even glances in your direction, let alone actually speak to you. You can feel your stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nerves as she just… exists.
You don’t tell her that though, afraid of getting your feelings hurt.
You just sit down on the nice thick blanket with her, grabbing some grapes to give a few to her and a few to herself as she presses play on the movie. It’s silent other than the sound of the movie, but she can hear your thoughts louder than any film. It’s not like she’s trying to read your mind. The witch vowed to herself to never use her magic on you unless it was necessary or life saving. That includes mind reading. Your thoughts are too loud though, and even with the amount of control she has over her powers, they still fill her head as she tries to focus on the movie.
“I love her.”
“She says she loves you.”
“She doesn’t mean it.”
“Yes she does.”
“No she doesn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter. I love her.”
Your internal battle on if she truly does love you or not breaks her heart into a million pieces, though she doesn’t want to call you out on it and make you feel uncomfortable. So you guys continue silently watching the movie. She doesn’t mention your loud thoughts, and you don’t mention that you can feel her eyes burning into the side of your face as she stares.
When the movie is over and the projector turns off, you guys sit in the darkness of the night. There are stars dressing the night sky, so you silently look at them as Wanda turns on her side so she can gently pull you closer to her. 
The moment is perfect; looking up at the stars in each other's warm embrace, your back pressed against her front and she moves around until she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, so close to you that your perfume fills her senses and puts her into a peaceful bliss. Your truly happy as is she, and this time, as she says the tree words, you find yourself believing her;
“I love you.”
She doesn’t regret it or cringe out of embarrassment when she says it like she did last time. The witch just lets the words hang in the air. If you choose to say them back, you do. If not, at least you'll understand how much she truly means it.
“I love you.” You whisper back with new found confidence, and her chest fills with warmth and pure happiness. You finally believe her. Her words sounded so sincere and simple, not like the drunk words she said a few days ago. It’s the only reason you feel okay telling her the truth. You love Wanda Maximoff.
“I love you.” She mumbles, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
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five-bi-five-mind · 8 months
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Too Soft
Fandom: Station 19/Grey’s Anatomy
Pairing: Carina DeLuca x female!reader
Genre: Hurt & Comfort, Angst, Smut
Words: 6.3k+
Summary: Carina is not coping well with the loss of her brother. She’s barely sleeping or eating and she refuses to let you comfort her. All she wants is some sense of control to come back into her life and all you can think is to offer her whatever she needs, no matter what that sense of control may look like.
Warnings: talk of grief; loss of family member; mention of canon character death; rough sex; semi-angry sex; fingering (r receiving); biting; marking; multiple orgasms; overstimulation
A/N: I do not know where this even came from but uh… here y’all go. Idk honestly how I feel about this one lol
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This was a new dynamic. Never had you not been soft with each other. Ever since you met, that’s how your relationship went. It’s what you both needed, you were a trauma nurse and she was an OB. Two different things in a sense, sure, but both of you often saw hard situations. Not every patient was a breeze, there was so much struggle, so much loss, even in both cases.
So when you two met you needed softness and she gave it to you. She needed softness too, after all. So your love was gentle and tender. It always had been from the start. The way you both fell in love was fast, but in so many ways you two also took your time. Carina cherished you in every single moment she spent with you and you tried to reciprocate that. With every touch, you could see just how much appreciation she had for every single part of you and with every kiss, you tried to show her just how all-encompassing your love for her was. 
In the year and a half that you two had been together, that feeling was consistent between the two of you. There were hard days, just like everyone else, but you two would talk through it and fall into bed in each other’s arms by the end of every evening. But when things suddenly changed for Carina, you were floundering. 
It was all so sudden. A whirlwind incident that ended in unexpected tragedy for your girlfriend. Carina lost her brother and as a result, you had somehow lost her. She stayed with you, it wasn’t that you physically lost her. It was just that she had suddenly become so emotionally shut off. Although, as she skulked around the apartment looking half alive, you sometimes felt like you lost her physically too. But, for the most part, it was on an emotional level that Carina was just… absent. 
You didn’t expect her to bounce back right away, of course. Grieving takes time and you understood that quite well. But then one month turned into two and then three and then four and suddenly you were rounding on five months of sharing a home with a husk of the woman you loved. In all of this, you tried your best to help too. You begged and pleaded to do anything to assist her in her grieving process. If she wanted space, you’d give it. If she wanted you, she could have it. Whatever she could possibly need you’d make sure she got. Except, she would just shrug off any of your offered comfort and help. It happened so often as the days went on that eventually the only thing you could do was back off.
And that’s where the dynamic got messier. If you backed off, she would come looking for you. Telling you she didn’t want space, so why were you giving it to her when you asked and she said no? Maybe she was picking a fight on purpose, but you’d never let it get to the point of yelling. You’d just sigh and agree to stay with her, but when that happened she couldn’t look you in the eye. She wanted you near– at least that’s what she said, but any time you simply sat next to her it was like you were doing it wrong. You didn’t know how to fix that or how to be near her in the way she wanted.
It wasn’t even this new, uncomfortable dynamic that made things the hardest. No, it was the way Carina just was. Seeing her, this incredibly strong woman, seem so broken. It broke you too. She was hurting to the extent that it felt like the woman you once knew would never come back. Carina was always your advocate for self-care when you had a hard day, but she wasn’t following any of her own advice. 
When was the last time she even really slept? You often caught her in the weirdest places, curled up on the floor, staring blankly, rather than resting or even crying. It was scaring you. For a few weeks this behavior was understandable, you told yourself it would pass and you’d let her do what she needed as she grieved. But now it’s been months and the sleep deprivation had to have been hurting her on a physical level too. Not to mention the fact that she barely ate now. She was looking quite literally dead on her feet and the absent look in her eye was making it harder and harder for you to stay silent to her grieving process.
You tried to tell the people around her, tried to ask them about what to do, but many didn’t have much to say. We all grieve differently, she just lost her brother, or it takes time were the three most common phrases you were met with. At first you agreed, but now you were getting sick of hearing it. It wasn’t that you were impatient to have your girlfriend back or that you couldn’t handle caring for her in her time of grieving, it was that your concern for her was causing you to be literally worried sick.
The final straw to break your silence happened when you woke up to the other side of the bed cold and empty at the late hour of one in the morning. You had told Carina you would really like it if she came to bed not too long after you and pleaded with her to actually join you for once. Not for anything but rest, of course, but still you just wanted to have her next to you again. She had half acknowledged you and you sighed, but took that for now as you trudged off to bed. Randomly, you had woken up to reach for Carina, only for your hand to hit the mattress. Why you had hoped that tonight she would finally try to get a proper amount of sleep in the bed you shared, you weren’t sure. Regardless, it was the breaking point for you. 
You threw the covers off of you, creeped down the hall of your apartment, and saw the bathroom door was cracked with the light on. Gently, you opened the door and stepped in to find where Carina was hiding. What you saw was a new sight: Carina curled up on the shower floor, fully clothed with the shower off and completely dry.
“Carina?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, trying to be as gentle as possible as you knelt down in front of her. “Carina, what are you doing in here?”
She didn’t answer. Her tired eyes just flicked up to you before dropping back down. You watched as she hugged her knees tighter to her chest and you sighed. “Carina, come on,” you reached out for her. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“No,” she shook her head. “No, no…”
“Carina–”
“Everything,” she mumbled. “Everything is just too– It’s too soft.”
“Okay…” Your voice was hesitant, questioning. You didn’t want to judge her. If this was still part of her grieving process you’d ride it out with her, but it was tiptoeing into unhealthy territory. She hasn’t slept, she’s barely ate, there was a growing dread in your stomach whenever she passed you in the hall, eyes devoid of any emotion, her face stuck twisted in that pained expression she’s kept on for weeks. You were worried she was going to exhaust herself to death, that her lack of sleep and energy would see her collapsing if she tried to work, or do anything really. On top of that, she was carrying so much of this blame and loss inside herself, even if what happened to her brother was by no means her fault. It was too much for her, she wasn’t able to let it out. She was grieving, sure, but was she actually processing it all? Your heart ached to help, but you felt powerless. There was no way to take on her pain if she didn’t let you.
“I- I can’t just be comfortable. If I’m comfortable, I’ll cry and I’ve been crying for weeks. I can’t cry anymore. I-” Carina’s voice broke and she cut herself off, shaking her head hard. “No. No, I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Carina…” You scooted closer to her, your hands slipping into her own. “Please,” you urged. She needed some of this off her shoulders, she needed to let herself rest. 
“I’m sorry, bambina.” Carina’s hands slowly withdrew from yours and you knew she saw the hurt look in your eyes. You couldn’t stop yourself. Maybe it was selfish, but you wanted some of her back. An ounce of contact that told you she would come back to you. She could grieve all she wanted, for as long as it took, as long as it wasn’t forever. But there was a fear in you, one that said maybe she would never forgive herself, even if it wasn’t her fault. If she didn’t forgive herself, you didn’t think you’d ever see Carina’s bright smile again. The thought shook you to your core. “It’s too soft.”
Those words cracked at your heart. There had to be something, anything you could do. If she can’t handle soft, what can she handle? All you knew was how to be gentle with her, the way she always is with you. “We need to take some of this blame off you,” you begged. “What can we– What can I do? Blame me, you can blame me. Just anything, Carina, please.” 
Carina was continuously shaking her head, her eyes glistening with tears she refused to shed. “No, it’s not about blame. It’s not that. I’m angry, bambina. Not at you, not at anyone, not even at myself, but at the world. I don’t understand it– I don’t know how to stop this feeling. I feel like my emotions are out of control, everything is slipping through my fingers. Everything feels out of control. Bambina, you can’t help.”
“What can then?” You weren’t going to give up on this. Right here, right now, you were going to do whatever you could to alleviate some of this from Carina. If you didn’t find a way tonight, something told you, you’d never get the Carina you once knew back. “Things feel out of control, right? What can we do to get some back? I’ll do anything you need, just name it.” 
Carina kept shaking her head, rubbing at her eyes angrily to fight off the tears she didn’t want to shed. “I don’t want to take what I’m feeling out on you, bambina.” Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment as she took a deep breath. “That’s not healthy.” 
“And this is?” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you were at your wit’s end. “Does this look healthy? You haven’t slept for days and you’re curled up on the bathroom floor for god’s sake!” 
Carina didn’t say anything to that. Her eyes fell and her face went practically emotionless. All that did was build up your frustration more. Not at her, but at everything. At your powerlessness to help her. At the fact that she lost someone who meant so much to her. At how unfair the world was to the woman who deserved the best. 
“Carina,” you continued, “you want control then we’re going to get some back. This—“ you motioned to where she was curled up on the shower floor, “—is not good for you. Take your control back, even if it’s in a small aspect. Just take it.”
Your eyes burned from frustration tears threatening to spill, but this wasn’t about you. You wouldn’t allow yourself to cry. Not when you knew you needed to give Carina that space to do so. “Give me this blame, put the anger on me. Just do it for now. All I’m asking is that for tonight you just try.” 
Carina looked back up at you now. You could see from the look on her face that she was seriously taking in everything you were saying. In her mind, she was calculating what her next move was. She so desperately wanted you in her arms, but one moment of gentleness would surely make her break apart all over again and she was struggling to put those pieces back together on her own.
She did want to feel in control. She wanted to get back to the place she was in when she first met you. Where she could be your comforting and strong girlfriend, the one who was soft only for you. Now, anything remotely soft set her off and she found herself wallowing, not just in grief, but in self loathing too. Carina’s emotions were so scattered, she didn’t know if she could ever control them enough to be what she once was for you again. That thought alone terrified her just as much as it did you. 
But she had to try, right? For you at least. If she couldn’t hold you like she wanted to, then she could do the alternative. Something inside her told her, if she did touch you in some way– in any sort of way, it would ground her. It might even mend a small piece of her. It couldn’t be soft; she couldn’t handle soft. But here you were, telling her to take it out on you, even if it’s just for one night. Her mind argued with itself. One side was trying to give in to everything you were saying and the other was wary of being anything other than gentle and loving to you. Though, after a moment, her decision was made.
“Meet me in the bedroom,” Carina’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Carina, what…” You trailed off, your eyes searching hers for some sort of answer. You said you wanted to do whatever it took to make her feel better, but you didn’t expect that response.
“Please.”
That was all you needed to hear to let any question you had on the tip of your tongue die. Without another second of hesitation you stood up. Carina didn’t immediately do the same, but she told you to meet her in the bedroom and that was what you were going to do. You walked out the bathroom without saying much more. What would you even say? The confusion was pretty clear in your eyes when you looked back at Carina after she made her request. You figured you’d learn what her intentions were in due time. Whatever it was, you weren’t going to go back on your word.
You sat yourself on the edge of the bed you shared and waited anxiously, picking at an invisible piece of fuzz as you waited for Carina to come in. She took a moment before she followed you. When she stood up from where she had curled up in the shower to look herself over in the mirror, she finally saw just how wrecked she really looked.
Before she followed you in, she decided to take a moment to clean herself up. Splashing water on her face to wash away the few dried tears that had shed helped a little, but she still looked exhausted. Her skin was more pale than she had ever seen it, and she could tell from the dark circles under her eyes that she was severely lacking a good night’s rest. Still, that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. At least maybe what she had planned to try with you might make that seem a little more attainable, but she had doubts. 
Carina didn’t even know if you’d accept what she was planning. She knew you meant it when you said you’d take on whatever pain she was willing to unburden herself with, but she still was unsure about this. She just really needed some sense of control and somewhere in her grief-warped mind she thought if she could have an ounce of control over you then maybe she’d be able to grapple with some sort of control over her emotions. At the very least, it would give her a chance to have her hands on you in a way that wasn’t too soft for her.
Slipping her clothes off and pulling on her bathrobe, she took one more look at herself in the mirror. This wasn’t exactly the alluring look she wanted, but that wasn’t what she was going for. She nodded to herself, trying to keep a grip on her resolve to try this before she chickened out and ran back to her not-so-cozy corner of the shower. Creeping up to the bedroom, she peaked in to see that you were still perched nervously on the edge. Her heart ached for the anxiety and confusion she knew she was causing in you, but she didn’t really know how to stop herself from causing that either. Maybe, just maybe, after tonight some of this pain would ease for the both of you. It was worth a shot, even if Carina highly doubted it. 
“Bambina.” Carina’s voice broke through the uncomfortable silence you were sitting in. Your head immediately snapped up to see her standing in the doorway. 
She took one step towards you, then two and you felt yourself getting more anxious by the second. At the moment you saw her standing there in her robe, you began to piece together what she had in mind; what she was going to ask of you. There were so many nights when you’d make love to Carina, each one full of tenderness and love. While there might be love in what was going to transpire tonight, you knew the tenderness would not be there. Control, that’s what she needed. Maybe you weren’t exactly able to picture how she would gain that from what she was planning, but you could imagine it wasn’t going to be gentle love making like it used to be. 
“Lay back on the bed.” Carina’s voice wasn’t demanding. It wasn’t harsh or cruel either. If anything it sounded a tad unsure. But still, when you followed her direction and she watched as you scooted yourself up onto the bed, you saw a flash of appreciation in her eyes. You weren’t going to question her actions, which took some of her tension and unease away. Whatever she was going to ask, you were going to give. Even if you were a little unsure about this shift in dynamics between the two of you, you were still willing to be true to your word. 
She took a few steps into the room, watching as you reclined on the bed. Something inside her shifted in that moment. As she saw you lay on the bed for her, waiting for her to do whatever she had in store, it was like a switch flipped. Suddenly, she felt that rush of control she so miserably searched within herself for. She hadn’t even done anything yet and the feeling was already flooding her entire body like a drug. 
When she was finally at the bed, she reached out her hands and yanked up your shirt. You helped her get it off you as best you could before you laid back down. It was awkward and you were struggling, but Carina didn’t seem to care much. That act alone was rougher than she ever was undressing you, but you still didn’t say anything.
Carina paused as she looked down at your naked chest. You were already breathing hard, just waiting for her to make a move. Finally, she reached out again and slowly dragged her nails down your body. Your head craned up to watch what she was doing and when her eyes met yours, you shivered at the look she gave you. Her pupils were blown as she stared you down. It was like she was in a trance, watching as five angry, red lines appeared in the wake of her nails on your skin. 
You swallowed hard as Carina grabbed ahold of your pajama pants and yanked them down just as hard as she had pulled off your shirt. Now, you were completely bare in front of her and your anxiety was getting the best of you. It had been a little while since you let Carina see you like this. Even if she had seen you naked so many times before, this time was different. She was different now. Not that she wasn’t still your Carina. She was, it’s just that she also felt somewhat like a stranger. 
But you shook that feeling off quickly when you felt the mattress dip by your feet. Carina slowly crawled over your bare body, her knees stopping and resting at either side of your waist. You tried to take a few deep, grounding breaths as Carina continued her earlier actions with her hands, scratching down your bare sides slowly and leaving marks along the way. It wasn’t hard enough for those marks to linger, but it was still an act you weren’t used to. 
After a moment, Carina leaned down and her lips finally met yours. It felt like home and unfamiliar territory all at once. She felt like Carina, tasted like Carina, but the way she was kissing you was very much not like Carina. The kiss was slow, but not very gentle. She was claiming your mouth with her kiss, rather than the usual feeling she brought when kissing you. When she kissed you in the past, it felt like she got lost in the kiss you shared, but this time it felt like she was dominating it. This was about control after all, you thought as you did your best to keep up with the way she kissed you.
Her tongue licked into your mouth and you groaned, your hands moving up to grab onto her sides. The feeling of her silky robe rubbing against your bare skin was a disjointed feeling, but you tried to ignore it and do your best to keep up with her kiss. If you were being honest with yourself, this side of Carina, the controlling take-what-she-wants kind of side, wasn’t all bad. To be truthful, it was turning you on. Teeth dug into your bottom lip and pulled. Despite the gasp that escaped from you, the act, even though painful, sent a rush that landed straight between your legs. 
The entire time Carina was kissing you, all she felt was a sense of peace. She wasn’t being gentle, sure, so that feeling definitely contradicted what she felt inside. But the more contact she had with you, the more she realized this really was exactly what she needed. It was like instant gratification, the way you responded to her command and her every touch. She felt that control and she was drunk on it. It was like, with this new feeling, all the others felt more muted. Not completely away, but enough that she could ignore them. Eventually, as she kept kissing you, all the tumultuous emotions she had been battling completely muted. There was only Carina and you and nothing could get in the way of Carina’s plans for you. That thought alone sent a shiver down her spine. 
When she bit a little too hard on your lip, the yelp you let out broke her partially free from her power trip. She pulled back and paused as she looked down at you, her chest heaving. The look in her eye was something you hadn’t ever seen from Carina before. It was almost calm. Almost. But it was more like the calm before the storm. Like you knew that whatever was coming was going to be hard for Carina to reign in if you asked for her to stop. Your knuckles tensed as your hands kept their grip on her sides. Whatever she had planned truly wouldn’t be what you were used to with her, there would be no softness.  You knew that when you offered, so while you waited for her to make her move, you mentally prepared yourself to truly give her full control.
“Bambina, are you sure?” She asked, her voice low. Her hand moved to your face, cupping your chin gently. It would be the last moment of softness you’d get from her for a while. 
“Yes,” you whispered, nervousness clear in your voice. You swallowed hard again when she saw your hesitation and tried your best to sound more sure. “Yes, I’m sure. Whatever you need… take.” 
Carina only nodded before sitting up and pulling at the tie to her robe. When she was free of it, she dropped the robe on the floor and practically rolled her entire body against yours. 
“Mio dio,” she groaned to herself as she dragged her bare body against yours. This was the feeling she was missing so much. She kept herself from it in fear of breaking apart yet again, but you were presenting her with an opportunity to chase the feelings she needed while also avoiding the ones she couldn’t handle right now. “I’ve missed this so much.” 
Your groan matched hers and your head fell back onto the pillow. Just the slight rock of her hips against yours was enough to get you wet. It had been so long since she touched you and the way she was touching you now was so different that it was doing unexpected things to you. “U-uh huh,” you mumbled as Carina kept rocking her whole body into yours. Her hands moved to your hips and one of her legs moved until it was slotted between your legs. You felt the pressure on your clit the minute she did that, her bare thigh grinding hard into you. 
Your teeth sunk into your own lip when she steadily rocked into you. Trying to mirror what she was doing to you, you propped your own knee up and felt your breath hitch when her own wetness met your naked thigh. The sounds of skin against skin and both of you panting echoed in the room. Carina’s nails were digging so hard into your sides that you knew this time, those red marks wouldn’t go away so easily. Your hands were on her back, grabbing onto her for dear life as she kept rocking her own thigh into your clit and building up a delicious friction that you hadn’t felt in months. 
All too soon, though, Carina pulled away. Sitting up for a moment, her fingers danced down your stomach until they reached between your legs, where she fully cupped your pussy. “When you cum tonight, it will be because I told you to,” Carina ordered. “Do you understand, bambina?” 
You nodded your head vigorously, but Carina didn’t make any move to continue. 
“I need you to say it,” she snapped. Her tone shocked you slightly, but you knew it wasn’t anger. It was all part of tonight, part of the control she needed.
“I understand,” you murmured and Carina gave you a satisfied nod. 
“I’m not going to be gentle,” she warned as she sat back on her knees between your legs. Her fingers traced light circles on your clit. “But I need you to do this for me.”
“A-anything you want, Carina.” Your eyes met hers and the look she wore now was nothing but pure hunger. 
With that Carina’s fingers moved down and circled your entrance. You tried to brace yourself, you really did, but nothing prepared you for the moment she pushed two fingers into you with such force until she was knuckle deep. A pathetic moan broke free from your lips, but Carina didn’t miss a beat. Each pump of her fingers was unforgiving. She put all the power she could into it, watching in awe as they slipped in and out of you. In this moment, as she sat between your legs and fucked her fingers into you with as much force and pent up anger she could put into it, she felt that pure control she was chasing intensify even more. 
Your body was shaking and you were panting as you laid there and took her fingers with your legs spread open. Without warning, Carina slipped a third finger in you and you cried out. In that moment, Carina moved so that her body was back on top of your own. With each thrust of her fingers, she put her whole body into it. The way she was hitting so deep inside you and stretching you out almost burned, but it was a pleasurable burn. You couldn’t stop the cries that left your lips when all three of her fingers curled inside you and she quickened her pace. 
The whole bed rocked with both of your bodies and your legs began to really shake. Carina’s teeth clamped down on your nipple and tugged hard. Not enough to break skin, but enough to have you shudder in pain that was quickly forgotten with a particularly hard pump of her three fingers inside you. 
Pretty soon, Carina could feel the signs that told her you were close. “No, no, no, bambina,” Carina cooed against the bare skin of your breast. “You’re not going to cum now. You don’t get to cum now.” 
“Carina, I don’t think—“ 
“Shhh, aspettami. Wait, bambina,” she growled. “Wait for me.” She pulled her fingers out then and you practically cried as the feeling of your impending orgasm suddenly faded. “I know, mia cara, I know.”
Carina placed kisses on either of your breasts before leaning back up to kiss your lips. Your lips immediately parted for her as your hands tried to pull her closer to your body. You needed more contact, you were so close before she pulled away. But still, Carina was in control, and she wasn’t going to give into your needy grabbing and pleading. 
She pulled away after a moment to sit up on the bed and you leaned up on your elbows to watch her. The look you gave her must’ve been pathetic because she looked back at you with a knowing smile. One that was classic Carina, a flash of the old her that you hadn’t seen in so long. 
You were so taken aback by it that you didn’t really pay attention to Carina for a moment. She moved until she was sitting at the head of the bed, leaning back against the headboard. 
“On my lap,” she said as she turned to look at you. “You’re going to ride me until you make yourself cum.” She patted her lap for emphasis and you looked down at her hands before looking back up at her. 
You hesitated, a little daunted by this new position she was asking of you. To ride her was one thing, but to get off on her yourself was a whole other. 
“Now,” Carina ordered and you immediately crawled to her. 
Straddling her waist until you were somewhat comfortably situated, you braced yourself on her shoulders. “Is this okay?” You asked nervously as you shifted on top of her. 
“Yes, good, bambina.” Carina’s hand moved down your body and between your legs again. The way her fingers brushed against your clit made you shiver from how sensitive and keyed up you still were. “You’re going to fuck yourself on my fingers, okay?”
You nodded, finding it hard to vocalize anything when you were so ready to feel her fill you again. Luckily, she accepted this and, yet again, you felt the same three fingers fill you. 
The fact that you had to get yourself off on her was one surprise; the fact that she was clearly insistent on stretching your pussy out with three fingers still was a whole other. Yet, Carina didn’t seem to mind the struggle in your face when you tried your best to grind down onto them. You grunted as you could feel the way your pussy was tightly wrapped around them, making it hard for you to take them in deep on your own.
Carina wrapped a strong arm around your back to hold you up firmly while you began to rock your hips into her. After a few minutes of you practically bouncing yourself up and down on her fingers, you began to feel that tantalizing pleasure again. It was only intensified by the way Carina had buried her face in your chest and placed bite mark after bite mark all over your tits. 
Pretty soon, the room was filled with sounds of your moans and Carina’s satisfied praises. You kept fucking yourself onto Carina’s fingers with abandon until finally you were at that edge again. Your whole body was tensing up and you were pulling Carina into you as close as possible. 
“Cum for me,” she ordered. “Cum now, bambina.” And you did with a low whine, coming all over her fingers. 
Before you could even come down, Carina was moving both her hands back down to your hips. With a hard grip, she kept you going, moving your body for you and pumping her fingers up into you now. Your nails dug into Carina’s bare skin and you cried out her name as your body quaked and another orgasm hit you the second she fucked her fingers up into you harder. 
Even then, she didn’t stop. Your whole body felt tense and overly sensitive, but still Carina threw you onto the mattress and followed behind. Landing knocked the wind out of you, even if you hadn’t caught your breath just yet from the two orgasms. Your head lulled back, but Carina kept pumping her fingers into your spent pussy. 
“Carina I— it’s too much. I can’t,” you cried. You wanted to give her all she needed, like you said you would, but everything felt too sensitive. Never had she pushed you through two orgasms back to back, only to try and push you through a third. 
“You can give me another,” Carina grunted into your ear as she kept fucking you. “You will cum for me again.”
You weren’t even trying to stop your whining and desperate moans at this point. Carina took one of your legs and pulled it over her waist, allowing her fingers to hit even deeper inside you. You felt spent and filled at the same time and it was all overwhelming you.
Your eyes rolled back and you whined Carina’s name as she pulled yet another orgasm from you. Still as your body shuddered and trembled, all Carina did was slow a little.
She was lost in her control over your body. This feeling, the feeling of making you cum, was the only positive feeling she’s had in so long. It was the only thing so far that quieted all her anger and guilt. Carina didn’t want to stop, she couldn’t stop. She needed to chase this feeling for as long as possible. 
“Carina, please.” Tears pricked at your eyes as she kept fucking into you. Again, she was rocking her whole body into yours as she fucked you. She was losing speed, but each pump of her fingers was still powerful. 
“One more,” She begged. “One more… please, just one more.” She didn’t stop as she pleaded with you, but you still nodded your head weakly. As much as your body felt like it was exceeding its limit, you wanted to give her all she asked for. 
With each time her fingers pumped into you up to the knuckle, your body shuddered. You definitely felt like you were being fucked raw by her, but still you took it. Meanwhile, Carina just had her face buried into your neck, placing kisses now where she once was biting.  
Finally, you came for a fourth time with a silent cry. Your chest was heaving and your body went totally limp under Carina and this time she actually slowed to a stop. Yet, her body remained on top of yours. 
It was after a moment of trying to collect yourself that you finally noticed the way Carina shook on top of you. You realized very quickly she was crying and you instinctively wrapped your arms around her waist. 
In all of that, as Carina was fucking you, she forgot just how good you felt. She missed you, she realized that as she had her lips on you and her arms around you. It wasn’t even that you went anywhere. No, you were by her side this whole time as she grieved. It was just that she was so lost in her grief that she might have been next to you physically, but emotionally she was just… gone. 
Now though, as she laid on top of you and shed tears she thought she was done shedding, she felt comfortable. Finally, she had felt an ounce of control. Maybe it was over you and it was given willingly, but it still helped bring back a part of her. If anything, it just helped her to stop spiraling in her inner turmoil at least for the night. 
After a moment, Carina pulled away and you immediately felt guilty. “Too soft,” you whispered. “I know, I know… I’m sorry.” 
“No,” Carina shook her head and cupped your cheek again. Tears glimmered in her eyes as her thumb rubbed gently against your skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into her touch that you missed so much. “No, bambina, it’s okay. I think I could use softness now.” 
You looked up at her with wide, hopeful eyes and in that very moment, Carina understood how much you were hurting for her too. “Will you hold me?” Carina’s question surprised you, but you didn’t miss a beat and eagerly nodded your agreement.
She rolled off you and you rolled your side, opening your arms for her. She turned into you and both of you wrapped around the other. Her hands held you tight and yours traced gentle circles along her bare skin. That night, she finally let you hold her as she cried. But this time she didn’t cry out of grief. No, instead she cried in relief as she felt some of the pieces inside her that had been broken since the loss of her brother finally start to come back together.
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a/n: this came to me late at night and i had to write it; shout out to @humanalien01 for helping me and supporting my simping. idk how i feel abt the ending tbh :/
summary: a night at josies bar leads to you admitting your thoughts about the devil of hell's kitchen, and a few months later your words come back to haunt you.
word count:2427
warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, reader is victim in an attempted mugging & fights back, cursing, reader is called a bitch
Standing around the pool table at Josie's bar with the Nelson and Murdock team, playful banter spewn between the four of you. Each of you taking turns shooting while also trying to make the others mess up. The laughter coming from the four of you carrying throughout the bar, the three deserved this after a hard case, and you being Matt's partner were happily invited. Foggy happily uses you as a means to try to embarrass Matt with silly stories from their college years. You and Karen, doubling over in laughter as Foggy finishes his current story, Matt's cheeks tinted pink. Upon noticing you move closer to him, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek, then resting your head against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your middle. 
It's not until Foggy scoffs begrudgingly that your attention and Matts is pulled away to look at what Foggy's upset about. On one of the Tvs hanging around the bar you notice a news story about The Devil Of Hell's Kitchen. Foggy going on a rant about how he thought the man was bad news while you stared at the grainy footage someone caught of the man decked out in all black, as he beat up a group of gang members. You slowly zoned out as you watched how the man in the mask’s body contorted as he flipped and took the bad men out.
“Y/n!” Foggy's voice pulled you out of your daydream, your head snapping to look in his direction, giving him a hum in acknowledgement. “What do you think? What's your opinion on the masked man?” he asks, you know he's hoping you'll take his side.
Your cheeks tint a slight pink at the question, aware of the two pairs of eyes locked on you and Matt's head tilting, obviously also looking forward to your answer.  “Um, i don't really have one” you lie, moving to lean over the pool table and shoot one of the balls. Karen's giggle goes in tandem with the clack of the cue ball hitting one of the stripped balls.
“You're lying!” Foggy calls out pointing an accusatory finger at you, “did you know lying is a sin? I can't believe you would do such a thing while dating our good Catholic Matt Murdock” he gasps a hand over his heart like you wounded him deeply with your tiny fib. The smile on Matt’s face tells you he did not care and he finds Foggy's dramatics hilarious.
“Oh no, however will you forgive me, my love?” you gasp dramatically leaning against Matt. “But seriously my opinion on the man in the mask isn't that important.” you say trying to move on.
Karen laughs before speaking “oh, trust me, too foggy it is very important, and honestly now I’m interested cause it's been just me vs foggy about this since Matt tries to stay out of these conversations” after she's done speaking the attention turns back to you. You sigh as Matt moves to take his turn, now seeing you have no way out of this conversation.
“I don't know, I don't think he has bad intentions or anything” you shrug before continuing “He’s also kinda hot” you say the second part quieter. The other three members of your party all have varying reactions, Karen laughing, Matt giving an awkward chuckle, and Foggy with his over the top dramatics acting as if you’ve insulted his mother. You watch Matt out of the corner of your eye worrying you may have upset him, you’d only been dating a month and a half, the relationship still new, you're still learning things about the other. What if you hurt him?
Foggy's voice pulls you out of your anxiety fueled downward spiral. “I can't believe you would do this to me” he speaks with a voice obviously trying to make you feel bad for not agreeing with him. He puts his head in his hand as he begins to fake cry. You and Karen look at each other before you both double over laughing, Matt joining in as Foggy's fake cries ramp up at your laughing.
You spend another few hours at Josies before you all decide to part ways, you going home with Matt after deciding to spend the night. Once you're in his apartment your anxiety returns from the prior conversation. You both make your way to his bedroom and change into clothes you can sleep in. It's only when you're both in bed, your head on his chest as he rubs your back, that you decide to broach the subject. “Hey Matty, can I ask you a question?” he hums in response. “Earlier at Josies, did I upset you?” you question, heart rate picking up slightly.
Matt feels your heart rate pick up so he quickly leans forward to kiss your forehead before he smiles at you with a soft chuckle, “no, not at all, I trust you, it’s no different than the people who have a crush on the avengers.” you sigh at his words. Anxiety subsiding, you know Matt well enough he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. You nestle closer to him before grabbing his other hand and kissing his knuckles, ignoring the cracks and healed over abrasions. “Besides, I know I’m your favorite” he says and you don't need to look at him to know he's wearing that cocky grin of his. 
You roll your eyes at him “i suppose” You tease him, no matter who came to you and professed their love, you knew you’d always choose Matt. You feel his chest vibrate under your cheek as he laughs. Eventually the two of you fall asleep in eachothers arms.
~~~
A month passes and you forget the aforementioned conversation ever happened. So many things happening that small moments get buried and forgotten about so easily. It's not till you're walking home one night that the conversation gets catapulted back to the forefront of your mind.
On your way home from a girl date with Karen you get yanked into an alley and thrown against one of the brick walls of a building. The bricks sharp and your head immediately begins to throb as your head smacks against it. A hand goes over your mouth and fight or flight takes over as you feel your heart rate pick up and the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. You struggle before biting down with all your might on the hand, the taste of copper coats your tongue. The man who grabbed you yanks his hand back and you spit the blood out onto his face before screaming, hoping you’d be lucky enough for someone to be close enough to hear you. You knew basic self defense but you’d rather be safe and hope someone would at least call emergency services. 
“You bitch” the man yells before slapping you across the face. You bring your knee up in an attempt to connect it with his groin. His hand shoots down, your knee still connects but not with as much force as you hoped. As you attempt to shove him off you hear a thud to the side of you and you can only hope that it’s some good samaritan here to save you. It's only a few seconds later your attacker is yanked off of you and thrown to the ground.
You watch with bated breath as the man in the mask repeatedly punches the guy in the face and head. Once he finishes he makes his way over to you, you can hear him speaking to you, asking if you're alright, but you're distracted by the shape of his jaw and the way his lips move. A sense of familiarity washes over you and you're unsure as to why.
“I’m fine, thank you, I just need to get home.” You quickly rush out before speed walking away. Wanting to be in the safety of yours and Matt's home as quickly as possible, and wanting to scrub your mouth to rid it of the copper taste. A part of you hoping Matt is home so you can just crash into his arms and sleep.
You arrive home to an empty apartment, the billboard on the building across the alley lighting up the living room. You drop your jacket and bag on the counter before moving to the bathroom and brushing your teeth for far longer than the usual two minutes. Afterwards moving to your shared bedroom and changing into the clothes you'd be sleeping in. 
As you're changing you spot a picture of you and Matt on top of your dresser. You pause, taking a moment to admire your partner, that's when it hits you. The sense of familiarity, why the bottom half of the devil of hell's kitchen face looked so familiar. You'd kissed those lips hundreds of times, it's no wonder your body recognized them. Everything begins falling into place in your head, like placing the last puzzle pieces in a puzzle and seeing the finale picture.
Matt's injuries always lined up with when you'd see the man in the mask on the new fighting bad guys. How a part of you always believed there was more to the story than him just falling or whatever excuse he’d give you. He was always so careful, far too careful to just take a tumble as often as he’d tell everyone. You never called him out cause even if a part of you believed he was lying you trusted him enough that you never questioned. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening and Matt's voice calling out for you. 
“In the bedroom!” you call back, wondering if he’ll tell you or if you'd have to call him out and question him. You hear him approach and turn to look at him, he looks relatively unharmed, ‘that's good’ you think. “Hey baby.” you can't help the small smile that graces your features, he moves closer to where your voice came from, reaching a hand out towards you. Once he reaches you he wraps his arms around you pressing a kiss against the top of your head. You hear and feel him take a deep breath, you wouldn't be surprised if he was also a little shaken up, he’d just saved his partner from being mugged, you wouldn’t blame him if he was. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes before you decide you can't take it anymore.
“Baby?” you begin, he hums in response. You take a deep breath before you continue, turning in his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. “When were you gonna tell me?”  you question, you figure it's best to just rip the bandaid off.
“Tell you what sweetheart?” he questions tilting his head, eyebrows furrowing. He looked like a puppy, confused by the trick its owner is trying to teach it. You understand why he’d try and play this off but you also wish he’d just be honest. Your face morphs into a deadpan expression.
“Matty, seriously, you know what I’m talking about.” You cross your arms over your chest. “When were you going to tell me youre daredevil?” you question. He huffs out a small laugh.
“What? Honey what are you talking about? I’m not the daredevil.” he lies through his teeth.
“I know you can’t see my face but just know it's a look of disappointment cause you should really be better at lying if you're gonna be a vigilante.” you speak before moving just out of matts reach. Deciding he could touch you again when he confessed. A defeated sigh leaves him, you assume he's come to the conclusion that there’s no way of getting out of this without being honest. 
“I don't know, honestly.” he begins “I always wanted to tell you, I hated lying to you, especially after seeing how worried you’d get.” he takes his glasses off sitting them on your dresser. “I was waiting for the right moment I guess. I was worried how you’d react, I didn’t want to lose you.” he finishes looking in your direction. He looks like a puppy that just got scolded and was trying to look cute to get out of punishment.
“First of all, low blow, you know your puppy eyes work way too well on me” you speak trying not to giggle. “Second, Matt I’m literally so in love with you, it’d take a lot more than you running around at night in a mask beating up criminals to lose me.” Now the laugh escapes you, a smile making its way to his face as well at your laugh. He moves closer to you again, hands landing on your waist, before he leans in to kiss you.
“You handled this a lot better than Foggy did,” he laughs. “Also, if you were wondering, yes, i am actually blind” 
“I wasn’t, but good to know.” you laugh “and to be fair, foggy did hate your alter ego.” you lean up to kiss his cheek, “lets go to bed baby” you whisper before crawling into your shared bed as he moves to change into pajamas. Once he joins you in the bed you snuggle into his arms, resting your head over his heart. Thinking over everything as you trace shapes against his chest, it’s then you sit up quickly realizing something. “You little shit!” you yell with a laugh as you playfully hit him in the chest. 
“What? What’d I do?” he asks shock and confusion taking his features
“A few months ago, at Josies with Foggy and Karen” you begin, you can tell by the look his face morphs to that he's beginning to understand. His cocky smile finding his face again. “I confessed that I thought the daredevil was hot and you just let me?” you ask incredulously “no wonder you were so unphased by it” you playfully shove his shoulder
“Would it help if I said I found it very flattering that you did?” he laughed “but seriously, that was when I started seriously thinking about telling you. It made me feel a little bit better about it.” he speaks, moving his hand to rub against your knee.
“Maybe, it does a little,” you confess. “You're still a little shit though.” you laugh moving to kiss him. “My little shit though” you whisper. The rest of the night is spent full of soft touches and laughter as the two of you bask in your love of the other.
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its-in-the-woods · 14 days
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Chapter 3 of down the rabbit hole
Chapter one here , two here , four here
MDNI
Pairing: Walton Goggins x You
Rating/warnings? IDK: Will just keep mature okay. Minors get out. Heavy mention of alcohol, blackouts, drunken shenanigans, hints at SA, awkwardness,
Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.
Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.
Note: they are both single, all for fun.
WARNING I do not have this all written out, I do have it plotted out, but it may be a little slower for chapters to come out. Please bear with me. If you know a Beta to edit please send them to me.
Thank you all for the support! This gets cute and flirty. Let me know what you think. ***
The bar is a hole-in-the-wall place, with the fifteen or so crew and four actors the place is packed. It’s laid out with a bar at the front, couches, and comfortable chairs in the back. You find a spot closer to the back, a gin and tonic in hand. Trevor is talking with Decon at the front, the two men are practically making out. You chuckle and sip your drink. Rebecca from Costumes sits beside you, the woman is all fluid grace. 
“Hey, how’s it going?” She smiles and sips her drink, short hair with sides buzzed, various botanical tattoos draping down her shoulder. Piercing brown eyes and a soft face that always had a small smile. She was draped in all black, which was of course fitted perfectly. 
“It’s going pretty good, nice to get out after a long week.” You reply, watching people mill around the place. You knew almost everyone here, aside from a couple of the extras. Most folks were chatting and drinks were flowing. 
“Oh man, it sure has. I am happy they stuck me in the studio for the next week.” 
“I will take the studio over driving any day. The city is atrocious to get around on a good day. Add in construction I would rather take the studio regularly.” You reply, having lived here for close to a decade and there was never not construction. You weren’t even sure what the construction was for anymore. 
The two of you chit-chat for a while, going over different projects. Discussing a little about the union politics and the fact that the industry was saturated because of the fifteen film schools. It’s nice, even welcomed. You’re now on your third drink and the world is getting a little tipsy. Rebecca has moved over, and Neal from props is talking to you. He was discussing some builds he was looking at doing for a Sci-fi show coming up at the end of the year. You listened intently, you had always loved props and had considered moving to that department at some point. 
The night carries on, you are buzzed now. The realization that you are going to need to get an Uber is at the front of your mind. You make your way to the bar in sesrch for some much needed water. When you look over to see Trevor grinning and moving towards you. 
“Hey sweety,” He says, words tripping over each other. The man was also as drunk as you are. “Me and Decon are gonna probably share an Uber to his place. Do you want to catch a ride with us?’
His eyes are bright if a little fuzzy, Decon is staring at him with hunger in his face. You can’t blame the man Trevor was fine as hell. If he wasn’t gay as a unicorn, you’d be tempted. 
“Umm, I am pretty sure that you both live at the other end of town from me,” You are surprised you can actually remember where Trevor lives, much less that Decon was in the same area.
“Oh. Well,” His face screwed up like he was trying to solve world hunger and not how to get home. 
Walton emerges from the groups of people, his face is slightly flushed, but out of all of them, he is probably the least inebriated. He takes in the three of you, you can see the wheels turning. 
“What is going on, if you’re arranging a three-way I will have to excuse myself, I hate being a fourth wheel,” The man chuckles at his own joke, Decon looks slightly confused looking between all of you. 
You let out a small snort, “No, just figuring out rides home. I live in the opposite direction of these two.” You gesture to the two men who are heavily leaning against each other. 
“Nonsense, I will make sure you get home safely,” Walton says looking at both of them. “You two lovebirds go and have a wild night. I will make sure the lady will get home.”
“You sure Mr.Goggins,” Decon asks, he is a good head shorter than Trevor but built thicker with shaggy blonde hair.
“Walton,” He smiles, “Definitely, she will be taken care of.”
“The lady also agrees,” You sigh, leaning slightly against the older man. You can feel how warm he is, it’s hard not to rest against him
“Okay,” Trevor chuckles, “Have fun, don’t do anything I would do. Or. You know do.”  
You watch Trevor and Decon stumble out of the bar. Part of you is jealous that they had someone to go home to. You relax and going to find yourself a spot on the couch. A moment later Walton slid in beside you. You’re happy your face is already flushed from the alcohol as his thighs touch yours. 
“Hey,” He says in a hushed tone, sipping of what smells faintly of scotch. He hands you a glass of water which you greatly appreciate. 
“Hey,” You reply, meeting his gaze. “How are you fairing?”
He smiles and looks around the room, “Honestly, I am kind of over it.”  
You giggle looking around at the same time. A few people had left, some people lingered in groups, and a few had divided into pairs. The mood has chilled out a little, the music dropped down a few notches. It’s comfortable and cozy, but that might be liquor. 
“It could be worse, we could have to work tomorrow.” You look back at him. The man was now staring at you as if every word you said was important. You fail to hold his gaze, damn liquor was making you melt.
“Mmm but at least I’d get to hang out with you,” He said with a crooked smile gracing his lips. You were pretty positive the man new the effect he had on you. 
“Oh stop,” You giggle, shaking your head and taking another sip of water.  “I know you enjoy the days off as much as any of us.”
“Suppose I do, it doesn't change the fact I like getting to spend time with you.” The Southern slipping in, making you almost choke on your drink. 
You roll your eyes but relax beside him, part of you just wants to lean against his chest and let the alcohol relax your inhibitions. You both talk about traveling, you had spent a few months traveling around the Philippines, Taiwan, and Korea. He talked about being in Japan, and China. Sharing info on some of the favorite foods you had a chance to eat, and how you both looked forward to traveling again in the future. You decide in haze to have a few more drinks, as the two of you continue to chat about the future. 
When the bartender calls closing you go to stand and the whole world spins around. You nearly fall over but someone grabs you before it all goes dark. 
***
Light is peering around the blinds, and you groan at the splitting headache and nausea filling your already foggy brain. Reaching around you find the side table, a bottle of Tylenol, and a glass of water. You take two tablets and bury yourself under the covers, falling into a restless sleep. 
There is more light now, and though your headache is marginally better you still feel like you’ve been run over by a truck. Blinking a few times you realize you’re not in your room. This room is fairly close to the size of the apartment you live in. The walls are basic contractor beige with generic artwork. There is a closet, two side tables, a darkened bathroom, and a chair near the end of the bed where you can see your jacket and purse sitting on it. Your phone is on the side table, plugged in, beside you along with a powerade and glass of water. Swinging yourself out of bed you are grateful to see you are still dressed, sans shoes, socks, and your jacket. Your clothes are uncomfortable but not as if they had been taken off and put back on. You straighten yourself a bit, rubbing your aching forehead. You grab the water and drink most of it. It makes your stomach lurch and for a moment you briefly wonder if the water is going to come back up. 
Settled, you quietly walk over to the attached bathroom. You don’t bother turning on the light, already knowing that you look like hell. You grab a face towel and wash what was left of last night's eyeliner and mascara off.  Making sure to clean the towel well so that it doesn’t stain. You take out your braids and rub at your sore scalp. Giving yourself a moment on the toilet before washing up and rubbing more cold water on your face. You feel a little more human than when you walk back to the room. That cold stone of anxiety rolls around and you try and push it away. Whoever had brought you here hadn’t done anything. You were currently safe and could catch an Uber home. 
Gathering up your things and the bottle of Powerade you slowly open the door. There is the faint sound of music coming from down the hallway. You tiptoe down the way hoping to see a front door to slip out of. At the end of the hallway, the place opened up into a kitchen/living room area. A man was standing in the kitchen singing the song that was playing. The door out was across from the kitchen.  
It wasn’t just any man, it was Walton. Hair fluffed up, wearing a pair of christmas pjs, and white cotton top. Singing and dancing around the kitchen. You freeze and wonder if you should go back into the bedroom and throw yourself out the window. Maybe there would be a fire escape, or maybe you’d just let yourself be swallowed up by the pavement instead of facing him. Letting out a small breath you push yourself into the light of the day, feeling completely at a loss. You weren’t going to be able to sneak out, might as well get the awkwardness over with. 
“Umm. Hey,” You squeak, placing your things onto a chair at the small dining table. 
Walton jumps and turns back to you, his glasses nearly falling off his face,a brief moment of fear is erased by a big smile. “Hey! You’re up. Sorry, did I wake you?” Pushing up his glasses with the back of his wrist. 
You shake your head taking a small sip out of your bottle. The smell of bacon and pancakes makes your stomach growl. How you could be both be hungry and hungover should be studied by scientists.
“No, I am usually up early.”  You give a weake smile. It was true, even on your days off you were usually up between seven and eight. 
“I made breakfast?” He looks so out of place and nervous, pointing to a couple of plates. His usual charisma was replaced with jittery energy. Then again you’d probably be nervous too if one of your drunk co-workers slept at your house.
“That sounds amazing.” You say grabbing both full plates and taking them over to the table. You have no idea what the hell you’re doing, all you wanted to do was leave. At the same time, you were not going to turn him down. The thought of him being disappointed was worse than the awkwardness of staying. 
He slips into the seat beside you handing you a fork and knife, placing some maple syrup on the table. Getting up, again, to grab two mugs and the pot of coffee, he whirls around the place grabbing some cream and sugar too. 
“Thank you, umm for breakfast,” You say, not really sure how to feel about the whole situation. You had very hazy memory about the rest of your evening at the bar. Most of it was just blank. “How did I end up here?”
Walton’s face falls as he looks at you, “Oh, shit. I should have told you. Probably don’t remember coming here.”
You nod your head, suppressing a smile at how flustered he is.
“I tried to bring you home, but you won’t give me your address or wallet. Kept saying you weren’t bringing home ‘no random man’. Kept trying to convince me to just put you in a cab .” 
You laugh at that. “Of course I did.”
“Trevor wasn’t answering so we brought you here. Ahh- I promise nothing happened. I just took off your shoes cause they looked uncomfortable. Plus socks in bed always feel weird.” The jumble of words spilled out as he looked at you for reassurance. 
Your hand finds itself resting on top of his wrist. “Thank you, I appreciate you not leaving me at the bar.” It was kind of him, most people would have just dropped you into a cab and be done with it. But of course, Walton would make sure everyone got home safe, the man was gentleman. 
Walton looks shocked at the last statement. His hand slips up and takes yours. It feels weirdly natural, his larger hand engulfing yours as he rubs his thumb of your fingers absentmindly.
“Oh no. I would never leave you- at a random spot.” He says quickly adding the last bit as his cheeks go slightly pink. You briefly wonder why he would be so flustered, you wouldn’t have blamed him for just letting you take a cab. 
“You're a good man and the food smells amazing.” You smile back, squeezing his hand slightly. It felt so easy just to sit here at the table holding hands. 
Both of you dig into the food, and despite still feeling hungover the food hits the spot. Walton explained as best he could the rest of the night.  You had apparently also hit Leonard, his driver when the man had held your waist trying to help you into the vehicle.
“I will make sure to apologize to him on Monday.” You make a face. “Probably a good reason for me not to go out so much.”
Walton looks taken aback by this, “Leo will be more than fine. I can guarantee he has dealt with the worst. Plus besides that, you were very much welcome company.” 
“Still though.” You shake your head. You grab his plate and stack it before bringing it to the sink. 
The habit of putting things into the dishwasher is in full effect. You help him clean up, and it all feels much too easy. You take a sip of water, the headache still lingers and all you really want is a shower and some sleep. Silently you scold yourself for letting the night get away from you. You had never been a bigger drinker to begin with, and letting yourself get black-out drunk was not exactly something you wanted on your resume. 
“Thank you for- umm- looking after me. I should really get going.” You say feeling flustered, thinking about the fact that you’d love to just crawl into bed with him. Let him tell you stories of his travels as you drift off to sleep. Maybe you could both have a shower and then-
“Can I drive you home?” Walton wakes you from your daydream. “If you are comfortable with me knowing where you live-”
You blink a few times, trying to get your brains to string a few words together. “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve already done so much for me.”
He shrugs, “It’s really not a big deal. I promise” 
Your resolve crumbles, what were you supposed to do to disappoint him and say no? No there was not disappointing this sweet man. You’d do near anything just to see him smile. 
***
Walton drives you home, you’re surprised he drives something as utilitarian as a Toyota  4runner. At the same time, who are you to judge, you have been driving the same Honda Accord for almost a decade. You both chat about the city, Walton seems enamored with the mountains, so close to the sea, and tons of places to explore. You talk about your favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants, and Walton recommends a few decent bars. The chatter is easy, it’s always been easy you realize. The pace and flow were as if you had been talking to him for years ike you were old friends. 
“That’s me,” You say with a weak smile, the idea of having to go home wasn’t as appealing. Your tiny little studio apartment, with its leaky windows and smoke-smelling hallways. At the same time, you know you can’t stay in the vehicle all weekend. 
“So it is,” Walton says, he looks almost as disappointed as you do. “What time should I pick up Monday?”
Taken aback by the question you look at him with your mouth open.
“Your car is still at the studio.” He replies that little mischievous glint in his eye. You wonder if this was his plan all along. 
“Oh. Dang-it. It’s alright I will catch a bus.” You say, trying not to be dismissive but also not wanting to bother him. Realistically he probably had better things to do then pick you up. 
“No. I insist. I was the one that invited you to the bar.”  Walton states a small smile growing as he watches you. You realize that you aren’t going to be able to say no to him, and at the same time, you don’t want to either. 
“I will be outside around 6 am if that works?”
His smile widens, making your heart do little backflips, “Sounds good, I will see you then.”
Chapter four
*This was so much fun to write. I am excited to see where things go next! As always likes comments reblogs are greatly appreciated .*
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kingdaddydaichi · 5 months
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☆ title: redefining (ch. 11) | ( ch. 10 ) ☆ ( ch. 12 - wip )
☆ pairing: cop!daichi sawamura x single mom!reader
☆ wc: 2.5k
☆ synopsis: four years after leaving your toxic ex, you find yourself a single mom to a 11-year-old boy named musubi, who harbors a lot of misdirected anger. you hear from his fifth grade teacher, mr. suga, more often than your own mother and a resulting friendship is born. meeting suga’s best friend wages a war between your head and your heart - one that challenges everything you think you know about love and police officers. neither are to be trusted. both have left you lost and scared when you needed them the most. so, when a cop comes knocking at love’s door, just how strong is your resolve to keep your heart under lock and key?
☆ warnings/notes: sfw. cop!daichi. mutual pining. angst. domestic disturbance. fear. idk like, the way daichi talks to subi might come across as patriarchal? but it's the way i feel like daichi would speak to him under the specific circumstances, how he knew he would get through to him. i am deeply sorry for the massive real-life time gap between chapters //sob. but i'm committed to finishing this series. my love for daichi and this story is settled deep inside my bones. I'M BACK BITCHES /aff 🫶🏼
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she's falling in love now losing control now fighting the truth trying to hide but i think it's alright, girl yeah i think it's alright, girl
losin control - russ
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Life can be a rip-roaring bitch sometimes, y'know?
The first week or so after your fallout with Daichi had been relatively easy. The fact that you were still angry at him helped a lot more than you'd have liked to admit. The battle to get him off your mind was constant, but all you had to do was remember the way his eyebrows angled inward when he yelled at you. You’d never seen him like that before and it had scared you, triggering your fight or flight response on top of the heart-wrenching pain of seeing him being a little too friendly with his ex.
But what you kept pushing down with all of your might was the fact that daichi was right. He had called you on everything you’d worked so hard to hide from him. The fact that he’d seen you so clearly scared you more than the look in his eyes when he raised his voice at you. He had been angry, yes. But a lot of hurt had weaved its way into his words as well.
Halfway through the second week, however, things started to go downhill. You found yourself reaching for your phone a couple of times to tell Daichi about something ridiculous or funny that had happened only for your fingers to stop short as your heart sank.
Oh. right. I'm not supposed to do that anymore.
You’d even tried venting to Suga about Daichi in hopes that he would validate you, but he wasn’t as sympathetic towards your plight as you would’ve liked: “But isn’t this what you wanted?” he'd said. “You’ve been saying that whatever the hell was going on between you two had an expiration date…” “You’re right. It’s probably better this way so you and Daichi can each find the people you wanna be with...” That last one had really dug deep - the thought of Daichi with anyone else made your heart splinter and your stomach wretch. But you had swallowed your heartache down with the lump in your throat and nodded with a meek “Yeah, exactly,” knowing deep in your bones that you didn’t mean a word of it. Suga knew it too.
The week after that was the week from hell. Crying in bed every night because you missed Daichi so much was made that much worse by your shitty week. Life could’ve just given you a normal week but NOPE. Every single day, multiple times a day, you’d pick up your phone to send him an angry text about your boss or the rude ass lady at the grocery store. Or the fact that some really, really important notarized legal documents got lost in the mail. Three trips to UPS, two trips to the post office, and $91.00 later the paperwork finally reached its intended destination via next day air. You wanted to ask him to arrest the incompetent twat who put your mailer on the wrong truck in the first place and then smile at his reaction. To top it all off, your son’s behavior had hit an all-time low. You’d been hoping that it would’ve improved after the disciplinary hearing, which Subi had attended as well but, if anything, his behavior at home had gotten worse too.
You wanted to call Daichi. You wanted him to come over and hold you as you curled into a ball against his chest. To feel his hands in your hair and his lips on your forehead telling you that ‘everything’s gonna be okay’. Because you’d believe it If Daichi was the one saying it. He’d make sure of it. But you couldn’t do any of those things and it made you cry. Like getting kicked when you’re already down.
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Daichi didn’t have it much better. 
He’d called and apologized to Yui, who had called him a “fucking asshole”. There was the drunk driver who had puked on him while doing his field sobriety test (he probably deserved that, he’d guessed). Then there was the day he got stuck directing traffic in a torrential downpour. The police-issued waterproof ponchos had done nothing for his wet socks and the sloshing in his shoes. 
There were also all the little annoying things that kept happening to him - his washing machine quit working (mid-cycle, no less), he got a flat tire (in a different torrential downpour), he stubbed his toe one morning while getting out of bed (talk about a rude awakening) - nothing too serious but just enough to piss him off. 
The worst of it was finding out his mom had to be hospitalized for Covid. She had to be on oxygen, but the prognosis was good. She was expected to be okay and eventually make a full recovery, but of course it made him worry about her nonetheless.
And through every bit of it, you were on his mind. He missed you something fierce. But some of the things you’d said still weighed on his heart:
“...how cruel can you be?” “You’re not even my type.” “Just go back in there and fuck your ex-girlfriend!”
That last one had hurt the most. Did you really think that lowly of him to think he’d do that to you? 
To be fair, he also remembered some of the things he’d said to you:
“Would you have liked it better if i’d introduced you as my fuck buddy…?” “What? Not toxic enough for ya?” “...you don’t have to be a jealous girlfriend about it…!”
They made him cringe every time he remembered. Sometimes the words you had thrown at each other kept him up at night.
Tonight was one of those nights…
Daichi was reading in bed, trying to take his mind off of you when his phone buzzed on his nightstand. Thinking it must be work-related at this time of night, he picked it up to see who was calling. When he saw your name on the screen, his heart wanted to claw its way out of his chest. What could you possibly want? Best case scenario was you wanted to apologize, but that could wait until tomorrow. If you didn’t want him to make you a priority anymore, he was going to honor that. Worst case scenario was you were reaching out to him for another booty call, and he was done with that. 
Either way, he let your call go to voicemail, but just as he was about to put his phone back down, your text came through as three little numbers:
911
Daichi sat bolt upright and immediately tapped the call button. Halfway through the first ring, you answered. “Daichi?” You were crying and he could hear a young man’s voice yelling in the background.
He sat forward in his seat, wide brown eyes darting this way and that. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Subi,” you cried. There was a loud bang accompanied by a muffled sob from you. “He threatened to hurt me and now he’s throwing things…”
Before you could say anything else, daichi was on his feet, throwing on a pair of sweats and a hoodie before heading for his front door. “You at home?”
“Y-yes.” you were crying so hard you were wheezing. “Daichi, please…please help?”
“I’m on my way.” His voice was remarkably low and stern and comforting as he told you to go inside your bedroom, lock the door, and stay there. He made sure you didn’t have any injuries and stayed on the phone with you for the 10 mins it took for him to get there. It normally took twice that long to drive from his place to yours, but he had his blue lights on, going well over the speed limit. 
“Daichi, I’m so scared,” you sobbed. 
“I’m almost there, (y/n). Just five more minutes. Come on, deep breaths.” He talked you down enough that you weren’t crying as hard. “Alright, I’m here. Do you know if he’s still in the house?” 
“Yeah, I can hear him. But the front door is locked.” 
“Do you feel safe enough to come out of your room and open it?” 
You’d heard Subi’s voice getting further away and the slamming of his bedroom door. “Yeah, I think so.” 
You slowly came out of your room and hurried to the front door, nearly collapsing in Daichi’s arms when you swung it open. He hugged you and told you everything was okay. He walked inside slowly, noticing some broken glass and other, obviously thrown, objects on the floor, and called your son’s name. Your pre-teen came out of his bedroom to find a man he didn’t recognize standing in the living room. 
“Who’re you?” he asked. 
“I’m Daichi, a friend of your mom’s. You must be Musubi.” 
Musubi narrowed his eyes at him and shrugged in response. 
“What’s been going on, man?” 
Your son crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe it’s none of your business.” 
Daichi’s dark brown eyes remained steady on him. “Well, seeing as how your mom is my friend and she’s scared and crying, I’d say it is my business.” 
The boy rolled his eyes. “Whatever. It’s not that big of a deal-“ 
“Wrong again. Your mom doesn’t feel safe in her own home. That’s a problem. It’s just the two of you living here, right?” 
Subi shrugged. “Yeah, so?”
“Then that makes you man of the house, doesn’t it?” 
Your son’s eyes met Daichi’s for the first time since he first spoke to him. “Yeah, I guess.” 
“And as the man of the house, don’t you think it’s your job to protect everyone in it, including your mom?” 
The boy didn’t respond, but his facial muscles relaxed as he maintained eye contact with Daichi. He had his undivided attention now. He was speaking to him man to man and your son was listening intently. 
“It’s a big responsibility to be in your position,” Daichi went on, nodding towards you. “Your mother and her safety are under your watch. She doesn’t feel safe with you when you’re the one who’s supposed to be protecting her.” The off-duty police officer's voice remained calm and even as he tilted his head. “So tell me, Musubi: do you really think you’re qualified to be man of the house?” 
You watched and listened with awe as Daichi took command over the situation, showing Subi what it means to be in full control. He leveled with your son while making him feel validated and understood. Rather than telling Subi how he should talk to you, Daichi did far more by showing him what it means to be a good man; he was teaching Subi how to treat others with respect in the way he spoke to him - by demonstrating to him that you get respect from others by being respectable.
Your son’s gaze fell under the weight of Daichi’s words. His beliefs about what it means to be a “man” had just been challenged and shaken to the core. He thought it meant being loud and aggressive, lording over others, calling the shots and expecting others to submit to him - no doubt all the tactics he’d learned from watching his father. 
“You think you’re in control here? Because, from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it.” The boy’s gaze followed Daichi’s as he looked around at the broken items in the room before looking over at you, still trembling and sniffling. “If you lose control, it means you don’t have it, Musubi. It’s that simple. Do we have an understanding?” 
The boy’s eyes locked with Daichi’s again and he nodded. 
“Good man. Now,” Daichi said with quiet authority, “Clean up the mess you made.” It wasn’t a request.
“Yes, sir,” Subi murmured as he started picking up the pieces. 
You couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your son’s mouth. Yes, sir? You looked up at Daichi - The Musubi Whisperer - wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Never even raised his voice and had him under his complete command. 
“(Y/n), can I talk to you for a minute in the kitchen?” Daichi said it just loudly enough that your son could hear how his mother should be talked to - by asking, not demanding. 
“Of course.” You followed Daichi until your son was out of earshot, then whispered, “How the fuck did you just do that?” 
Daichi shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of experience. Oldest of 5 kids. Team captain. Cop.” You smiled and nodded, wiping the last of your tears away. He put a tentative hand on your shoulder. “You okay, (y/n)?” 
“I think so,” you sniffed, wiping your freshest tear away with your shirt sleeve. “I’m so sorry to have troubled you, but you were the first person i thought of-” 
Daichi shook his head and pulled you into his arms. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you called me.”
Whether it was the catharsis from the highly charged situation or your need to feel Daichi close was irrelevant when you fastened yourself to him. Before you could think, your arms were around his waist and your head tucked against his chest. 
“Thank you,” you said, your shaky voice muffled by the warmth and weight of Daichi’s arms wrapping tightly around you.
“If it happens again, call me again. If you need anything at all, call me,” he said, rubbing your back. This was the Daichi you’d known all along and fucking hell, you missed him.
You tightened your hold around his waist. You were so immensely relieved to hear him say that. Maybe he still wanted to be the one you called. Just maybe he wanted to be the one you needed. 
“I will,” you said, nodding against his chest.
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Before he left that night, he shook Subi's hand. “Take care of your mom.” 
“Yes, sir.” Holy hell, there it was again. Daichi hadn’t even told him to call him sir. Leastways, not with words. How did he do that?
“Do I have your word?” Daichi asked, squeezing Subi’s hand. “Yes, sir.”
“Alright, I’ll stop by in a couple days to see how things are going," he looked at you, "...if that's okay." 
Your son’s lips pursed as he fought back a smile as he watched you nod. “Okay.” 
After Daichi left, Subi said, “You should find a guy like him, Mom.”
Your mouth dropped open, your heart skipping a million beats. Your son had no idea who Daichi was, what he did for a living, or the highly complicated nature of your relationship with him. Finally, you smiled and said, “Yeah? He’s a good guy, huh?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “He’s alright.”
Your son turned to you with his shoulders slumped and tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom.” 
Your body shook with tears as you nodded against his shoulder. “I know, baby. I love you so much.” 
Subi squeezed you tighter as he told you he loved you too.
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ch. 10 ☆ ch. 12 (wip)
series mlist | daichi mlist
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hood-ex · 8 months
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You’re like the Dick Grayson encyclopedia of tumblr to me, so here is a question (no need to answer if you don’t want to lol). I’ve been thinking a lot of Dick’s many TBIs due to one of my classes… anyways, do you know when Dick’s significant TBI’s happened? Like what comics specifically? (Also, this is just for anyone, but you can answer if you’d like: does DC every say what part of Dick’s brain got injured during his TBIs?)
Idk one of my classes has talked a lot about specific brain functions and what could happen if certain areas are injured, and I obviously thought of my head trauma king. Got me thinking about the consequences Dick could have or should have faced with his TBIs 🤔
Dick's been clobbered in the head with a variety of things an ungodly amount of times. I even once made a post about different times Dick got clobbered in the head with like a baseball bat, golf club, etc. And then other people piled on more examples so lol yeah, I suppose some of those would be considered... less significant TBI's.
His most recent significant TBI did show which area of his brain got injured:
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Nightwing (Vol. 4) #50
According to Dick, he lost bone, blood, brain tissue, and cerebrospinal fluid, and he also suffered from severe vascular swelling. He talked about how one of the effects of this was having a jump in consciousness. Like he wouldn’t understand how he ended up somewhere. - Nightwing (Vol. 4) #50
Right after the incident, he also couldn’t talk or feed himself (which isn't the case in Nightwing Annual #2 but whatever). - Nightwing (Vol. 4) #54
Dick's been shot in the head another time in Batman and Robin (Vol. 1) #15. Dr. Hurt fractured the back of Dick's skull to cause a hematoma. The intended effect was to have blood absorbed in the cerebrospinal fluid which would give Dick permanent neurological damage. So, basically, he wanted to turn Dick into a vegetable. Here's the placement of the bullet in case you were curious:
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Batman and Robin (Vol. 1) #15
From here on out, it depends on what you'd classify as a major TBI. I mean, he once got clobbered on the top of his head with an extremely heavy looking mallet. He ended up blacking out from it for an extended period of time, so I'd personally count this as something on the more extreme side.
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Nightwing (Vol. 3) #16
And speaking of blacking out, Dick blacked out four times in the current Nightwing run because he kept getting hit in the head (this takes place after Dick gets shot in the head by KGBeast—except the flashback one—sooo... his brain is probably feeling extra soupy now 😌):
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Nightwing (Vol. 4) #92
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Nightwing (Vol. 4) #81
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Nightwing (Vol. 4) #81
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Nightwing (Vol. 4) #101
In Robin: Year One #2-3, Dick had bandages around his head and might have taken a shot to the head from Two-Face's bat (though, luckily, Two-Face didn't get to deliver the final blow to Dick's head that would have killed him instantly). It seems like other internal injuries were more prominent as well as the fact that Dick's throat started to swell so badly that Alfred had to intubate him. Nevertheless, Dick nearly died from the severe beating, and the head injury might have increased his chance of dying.
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Robin: Year One #3
In Superman/Batman #55, Bruce got Superman’s powers and he ended up losing control of himself. He broke Dick’s jaw, knocked some of his teeth out, and caused other fractures to Dick’s body (it doesn't specify where the fractures are but Dick's head possibly might be fractured considering the bandages). Bruce warned Dick that one more hit would kill him (very RYO-esque, no 😌?).
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Superman/Batman #55
And, again, we could probably go on and on with him getting hit in the head and blacking out over this and that, so I'll end it here.
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no1frogfan · 1 year
Text
Impending, part 2
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Matsukawa Issei x afab reader
Word count: ~2.6k
Tags & warnings: SMUT-MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT, drugs (smokin a joint), semi-public sex (barely), fingering, p in v
Note: Vegeta fuckers rise up. (But for real everyone knows Android 18 is where it’s at.) I think this piece makes clear how big the Mattsun-shaped hole in my heart is. Thank you @prettyiwa for your keen editing eye :* And idk if you wanted to keep getting tagged in this series mica but in case you do @princesskazuya
part 1 | part 3
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The first time he met you, Makki had invited him over to play games after school. It was only the second week of 4th grade, but they’d hit it off immediately. He was aware Makki had two siblings, and even though he was younger than Makki, Issei was still the oldest in his own family and the oldest among his cousins, so he was pretty sure his mature energy would garner your respect.
What he hadn’t anticipated was that…it didn’t.
Actually, you were the one who impressed him. You seemed to know all the things that middle schoolers knew and elementary schoolers didn’t, and right away he found himself on the back foot, wanting you to recognize him as an equal.
The second time he went to Makki’s house, he went prepared. This time, he was going to get more than a quick glance from you, so he picked out the coolest shirt he owned — dark gray, oversized, with Vegeta going Super Saiyan plastered across the front. When you opened the door and feigned a cough to hide your laugh, he realized he’d misfired again.
When he thinks back on his childhood memories of you, they were invariably like this — you out of reach and him just behind, you ahead and him in pursuit.
You were always polite to him, never mean, but never overly friendly either. And why would you be? He was the annoying friend of your annoying little brother. The two of them were constantly following you around trying to get you to take them to high school parties where they were sure they’d get their first sip of beer and their first kiss.
It’s just that somewhere along the way, he started hoping you would be his first kiss.
But the four-year age gap meant he didn’t get much of a chance. By the time he got to high school, you were away at college, and by the time he graduated college, well, you’d already started making headway with your career in Sendai, or so Makki said.
In that time, he’d graduated high school, college too, and now he’s pretty established in the family business. He still hangs out with Makki all the time, and he’s a fixture in the Hanamaki household, always making sure to visit your parents along with his own. It’s just that whenever he came over, you’d either just left, or were yet to arrive. The timing was never right.
The desire to impress you faded to near-nonexistence over the years. Near non-existence, because a tiny little part of him still keeps track of how long it’s been since he last saw you (until today: 11 years). So when Makki invited him over for a family barbecue and mentioned offhandedly that you were home visiting, well, that tiny little part of him may have decided to trade the usual basketball shorts and faded t-shirt for the shorts that hug his thighs and the shirt that shows off the physique he’s kept up even after volleyball.
He knew he’d have to endure some teasing, but he’s used to it at this point.
(Makki took one look at him in the doorway and doubled over laughing, “It’s never gonna happen, bro.”
Mattsun just shrugged. “Can’t blame me for wanting to shoot my shot.”
Makki did not like that turn of phrase.)
Anyway, he’s probably over you at this point. He’d almost convinced himself of that until the moment you appeared at the top of the basement steps.
Maybe there’s something about the basement. Back then, he was always playing games down here with Makki. The tv screen was much smaller at the time, and the basement wasn’t fully finished. The walls hadn’t been painted, the floor was just concrete, and the only furniture was a paint-stained coffee table, a lumpy old sofa, and a dirty bean bag chair. Your parents gave them their privacy though, and kept the old fridge downstairs stocked with soda, so to him, it was basically heaven.
You usually left him and Makki alone, but sometimes if you were really bored, or if it was too hot upstairs, or you were supposed to watch them while your parents were out, you’d hang out down here and play a round or two. Sometimes you’d complain about your friends or whoever you were dating at the time, and Makki would always take their side and he would always take yours, and afterward you’d jokingly berate your brother, Why can’t you be nice to me like Issei?
The way you called his name today with that pleased little lilt made his insides twist into familiar knots. When he chanced a peek…you looked stunning, even better than he remembered. Especially with a radiant glow from the afternoon sun, beads of sweat disappearing into your cleavage, and thighs spilling out of tiny denim shorts.
He felt nervous, hyperaware of you sitting behind them on the couch. So when Makki reached over to bat at his controller, he channeled that anxious energy into shoving back.
In retrospect, it was more than a little childish to think he could impress you by wrestling your brother. Wrestling? Really? What are they, ten years old? He regretted it as soon as Makki left and the adrenaline wore off. He’s a grown man now, with plenty of experience under his belt, so how come you’re still able to make him feel like this?
Mattsun tried to play it off while he figured out another tactic, but then… When you leaned in to take the controller out of his hands, he thought you hesitated, just for a second, like you were caught off guard.
And when he sat back against the couch, he thought you seemed fidgety, like maybe the couch was uncomfortable.
And then when he — let’s be honest — completely fucking panicked and just laid himself across your lap because he couldn’t keep his hands off you, and your voice got all throaty, like…he’s even not sure what.
When you shoved him off and retreated into the couch, when he saw the agitated rise and fall of your chest and the way your nipples poked through the thin fabric of your crop top, when you looked everywhere but at him—
That’s when it clicked. Maybe, just maybe, he finally had a chance.
He barely remembers the race, so dizzying was this revelation.
He ignored Makki’s curious look when he didn’t lie back down on the floor. He hoped you didn’t mind how sweaty his palm was when he pushed himself up next to you instead. You’d stiffened, keeping your gaze resolutely focused on your phone, even though you’d stopped scrolling.
Now that you’re within reach, he doesn’t want to let go of this chance. To ghost his lips on the skin of your neck. To make his desire plain to you. To know if you want him too.
When you look up, a reply on your lips…
Makki yawns. Your face drops.
Of course.
He’s an idiot.
He was so high on the barest glimmer of a chance with you that he forgot all about Makki. Of course you’d be worried about how your brother might feel. You have no idea that Makki is well aware of his crush on you.
So when you run off, leaving him behind yet again, he fights the urge to chase. That little inkling of interest had made him impatient. Can you blame him, though? He’s been chasing after you for as long as he can remember. He’s sure of what he wants. But, he reminds himself, this is all new for you.
So for the first time, he doesn’t pursue you.
Don’t rush.
Slow down.
He plays a few more rounds with Makki and waits.
He goes upstairs and helps with the cooking and waits.
He grabs another beer and talks to your parents and waits.
But his patience has limits. Eventually, he can’t quell the antsiness crawling up his body and sneaks off while Makki is waylaid by one of your uncles.
When he doesn’t see you inside, he slips out to the backyard. It’s cool outside now that the sun is just a sliver on the horizon, and quiet since everyone has retreated indoors. He walks around to the side of the house.
A lighter clicks in his periphery, and for a blink, it illuminates you, hidden in a corner between the plum tree and the stone fence.
Your head snaps up at the crunch of gravel under his shoes.
“Oh, it’s just you.”
He ducks under the branches, stopping a few feet away.
“Yup, just me.”
You bring a skinny joint up to your lips and take a deep drag, turning to blow the smoke away from him.
“Needed some air?” He keeps his tone light.
“Something like that.”
He’s slept around, he’s dated, might have even fallen in love once, but there’s something unshakeable about a first crush. Maybe it’s just you that’s unshakeable. He’d dismissed it as a teenage obsession, but the ember he believed had turned to ash has roared to life.
The uncertainty is clear in your posture, yet your gaze flits over him when you think he’s not looking — eyes, lips, shoulders, chest, eyes again — or maybe you just think the haze of dusk gives you some cover.
You hold the joint out with one hand. “Want some?”
He steps into the narrow gap between you and the fence and, bending down, lifts your (surprisingly pliant) hand to his mouth. He tries not to tower over you, but in this confined space it’s hard not to.
He purses his lips gingerly around the tips of your fingers and inhales.
Breathing out slowly, his eyes stay locked on yours.
Your face remains neutral, but he feels the quickening of your pulse under his fingers when he lets go.
You step back to lean against the trunk. Before you can take another puff, he plucks the joint from you.
“Hey, give it back!”
He holds it up out of your reach. “Didn’t think you of all people would smoke.”
You roll your eyes. “I could say the same for you.”
“I guess some things change. And some things don’t.”
“Suppose so,” you admit.
You stare at the joint slowly burning down in his hand.
“Makki knows, you know,” he assures, gauging your reaction.
You frown in confusion. “That I smoke?”
He laughs. “No. He knows that I’m interested.”
Your frown deepens, and he adds, “I didn’t ask for his blessing or anything, but he’s never had a problem, so I’m pretty sure he’s ok with it.”
At that, you meet his eyes — yeah, he might finally have a chance.
He takes a deep drag, and before you can react, he presses his lips to yours, blowing the smoke softly into your mouth. He follows it with his tongue, delicate and testing. You open for him, soft like velvet and just a bit bitter from the beer.
When you don’t reciprocate, he reluctantly pulls away.
You evaluate him thoughtfully before snatching the nub from him. Taking one last puff, you snuff it against the fence, pull him down by the front of his shirt, and smash your lips against his. He eagerly welcomes your tongue, groaning when your sharp incisors pinch his bottom lip.
Your hands run up the back of his neck, roam over his broad shoulders, slide down his toned arms. You lift his hands and settle them on your hips, and before he realizes, he’s picking you up off the ground, wrapping your legs around him, and pinning you against the fence.
You pant as he nestles his face in the curve of your neck, licking and nipping restlessly, careful not to leave any marks for Makki or the rest of your family to find.
His fingers glide up your stomach, sneak under your top, to trace the curve of your breast.
“Do you know how hard you made me earlier when I saw you weren’t wearing a bra?” He growls into your shoulder.
You shiver at his admission, nipples hardening in his palms.
“And then Makki came back and I had to sit there and pretend like I wasn’t just fantasizing about fucking you into the couch?”
He grinds his hips, making you squirm, chuckling when he pulls back and you chase after the friction. “Mmm— yeah? You want me to?”
“Yeah, I want you to,” you gasp, “want you to fuck me, Issei.”
As soon as he sets you down, you start tugging at your shorts and underwear, but before you can even get them to your knees, he’s twisted you around and bent you over against the stone.
He curses as he slips one finger into your soaking cunt, followed quickly by a second. You writhe against his hand, biting back moans as he works them against your slick walls.
“Fuck you’re so wet already. Want this cock that bad, huh?”
“Fuck off Issei,” you whine, “you’re the one who popped a boner w— fuuuck…”
He plunges a third finger inside.
“What was that?”
“Just fucking…shut up and fuck me.”
He tsks, “Was gonna prep you more, but…” But honestly, he’s this close to cumming in his pants. He frees his cock and lines himself up, swooning when it prods against your entrance.
He sinks in. Not in one thrust, because he doesn’t want to hurt you, and because he wants to savor this. But not slowly either, because his patience is worn down to nothing.
“Oh sh— Issei…you’re huge,” you grit out, all the while shoving your ass back to take him in faster.
As soon as you’ve sucked all of him in and his hips rest flush against your pussy, the last thread of his self-control snaps and he’s mindlessly rutting into you. He can’t bear to pull out more than a inch or two before slamming back in, hips snapping with loud claps that almost muffle the sloppy squelch of your cunt.
He pulls you up, needing to feel as much of you against him as possible. One arm circles your waist and the other hand wraps around to clutch at your chest.
Your lewd moans and the way your pussy clenches around his cock makes him lightheaded. He’s lost in your slick walls, soft heat, unable to slow down.
It’s too late to wonder if his fingers are digging into you a little too hard because he’s already about to—
He shoves a hand between your legs to fumble at your clit, it’s clumsy, but you’re just so— he’s praying you cum before he loses it.
The last thing he sees is you clapping a hand over your mouth.
He feels you start to spasm right as he pulls out, blindly reaching down to pump himself once, twice before his vision goes dark.
His chest is still heaving when he regains his senses. You’re panting beside him, clinging to the cold stone, gobs of cum splattering your back and the curve of your ass.
He reaches over to brush away the hair stuck to your forehead.
“I’ll go get some tissues,” he murmurs, tucking himself back into his shorts.
He jogs toward the house, straightening his clothes before slipping inside. Luckily, everyone seems to have migrated into the living room because he doesn’t pass a soul as he grabs some toilet paper from the nearest bathroom before returning.
He’s tender when he tidies you up, gently wiping off your back, swallowing your whimpers with a kiss as he cleans up your oversensitive cunt.
Dimly, something primal wells up in him. Is that weird? To feel elated to be wiping his cum off you?
To feel like, after all this time, he’s finally caught up.
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stitched-mouth · 2 years
Text
Teenagers: Young, Naive & Horny
Fandom: Harry Potter.
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff! Fem! Reader.
Format: Short Fic.
Type: Fluff with hint of nsfw.
Word Count: Idk.
Writing Time: 2 hours.
Warning(s): Hint of nsfw (but not that deep).
Summary: Draco gets a little too excited when dancing with you at the Yule Ball.
A/N:
I wrote this just to get back into writing. I’m sorry for being away for so long. Also I’m suddenly really into Draco Malfoy again.
I do have ideas for a part two but I only plan on writing something if you guys want it. Part two would likely be a smut, but I’m not sure yet.
THIS IS SET DURING THE YULE BALL (which is the Goblet of Fire I think)
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Draco huffed as he stared at you. Even after quick looks every 5 minutes you still hadn’t noticed the boy staring at you from across the room.
Honestly how dare you not notice, Draco thought, you really couldn’t possibly not notice him staring whilst wearing that gown.
The gown you had picked out for the Yule ball was given to you by your grandmother who claimed it had good luck written on it as it was the same dress that caught your grandfather’s attention and made him ask her for a dance all those years ago.
Now it was your turn to be asked for a dance.
But you didn’t even know. Not when you was stuffing your face with chocolate and other sweets from the dessert table. Draco was starting to feel envious of the desserts as you seemed way more interested in them.
He finally decided to stop waiting for you to notice him (because you never was going to) and go up to you himself.
On the way towards you he was stopped by Pansy, but he walked passed her not even given her a lot. Draco knew that would cost him later (Pansy wouldn’t shut up about it tomorrow) but he didn’t really care right now.
As the platinum haired boy walked towards you he thought about what he was actually doing. He was going to ask a Hufflepuff to dance. Was he out of his mind? His father would certainly think so. The Hufflepuff girl was a known supporter and helper of the Golden trio.
You didn’t really hang out with them but they knew well and they knew you, and the four of you was on good terms. Say if they needed someone to keep watch for them while they were up to something, or a spell idea or really any help you were always to first to offer them a hand. A bit like Neville or Luna.
And boy, did Malfoy hate it. But he couldn’t help his attraction to you. He always found you fascinating and now he had to do something about it.
When he finally reached you, you looked up at him confused with your mouth full.
“Can I help you?” You asked, your sentence hard to understand due to the food in your mouth.
“Um…” Draco’s mind suddenly went blank and he became nervous. It was like he hadn’t planned this far ahead.
The silence wasn’t necessary awkward but it had definitely lasted too long for both of your liking.
“Nothing to say Malfoy? Ok..” You turned back to the sweets table.
“No! Um..would you like to dance?” Draco finally asked.
“You, the Slytherin Prince, want a dance with me?” You looked at him with a suspicious look.
“Yes.” Draco nodded and stuck out his hand.
You should be flattered Hufflepuff, Draco thought.
You stared at him for a few more seconds with your untrusting look. On the inside, you were feeling shocked and very flattered but you couldn’t let Malfoy know that. But you were still unsure.
Eventually you accepted his hand, “Ok…”
Draco pulled your up and lead you to the dance floor. On the way you made eye contact with the Golden trio and a few fellow Hufflepuffs, who all looked shocked and slightly betrayed as you passed them. You felt guilty for a second but quickly decided not you. You’d explain it to them later. They’d understand.
Draco found a spot on the dance floor and turned to face you. He awkwardly placed his hands on your waist, a bit too high up for your liking (it wasn’t really your waist, more like your middle) but you figured he was trying to be sensible or polite. You placed your hands on his shoulder and the two of you slowly began to sway.
You stared at each other intimately while both your bodies moved stiffly and nervously. You wished your body would moved the way you wanted it to. Draco did too, about his own body.
But alas you were both awkward teenagers who didn’t speak often or really like each other.
It made you wonder why you agreed to this dance. Maybe you were just like the other girls and couldn’t say no to Draco Malfoy? You really hoped you.
“Hey Draco?” You spoke up.
Draco was shocked to hear you fill the silence, “Yes?”
“You can…” You moved his hands lower down onto your hips, “See? That’s better.”
Draco felt his face heat up, “Oh ok.”
You continued swaying together. Draco prayed you couldn’t see his flushed face but unfortunately for him, you were right in front of him and the dim lighting wasn’t that fun at all. You could see the blush on his naturally pale face. It made you smile.
Towards the end of the song you noticed Hagrid and his new lover. Hagrid’s head was on her chest as they moved together and the two were clearly very happy together. So you stepped forward and laid your head on Draco’s chest and wrapped your arms around his middle. You didn’t realise how much taller he was until you did this.
Draco was shocked you had made such a move. So shocked it took a good 30 seconds for him to hold onto you back. If his face got get redder, it would. You hummed quietly as you continue moving together.
The boy looked down at you and suddenly felt emended fear. His pants got tight and he suddenly couldn’t moved. He prayed you wouldn’t look down or feel anything poking into you.
You looked up at Malfoy when he stopped moving, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing..I.. I just have to go.”
He suddenly let go of you and ran out of the Ballroom. You blinked shocked and felt a strong sadness.
What was that? He just left you on the dance floor, after asking YOU to dance.
You were heartbroken. You had no clue why he had just left you or that you had excited the poor boy too much.
Onlookers who knew EXACTLY why Draco had disappeared, felt sorry for the both of you. They all thought the same:
Teenager. Young, naive and horny.
It was a pity really, you thought as you felt your crotch burn, you was really enjoying that dance.
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skazoo · 9 months
Text
fire to the rain.
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↳ min yoongi x f!reader x jung hoseok
a crime lord, a mental hospital escapee, and a sociopath detective enter a bar.
length. 2.3k
genre. angst, thriller!au?? i REALLY don't know how to label this, agust d and jack do their own thing ig
warnings/tags. language, mention of mental illnesses, murder, arson, implied organized crime, dark themes overall. in this fic's seoul mental hospitals still exist, like arkham asylum/ahs: asylum stile idk it doesn't really serve anything but i imagined it this way.
networks. @kflixnet k-labels
notes. i finally get to publish this fic after soso long can i get an hallelujah?!?! also jack and agust d need to be in a movie together i really need it.
last but not least infinite thanks to the best beta reader i could ask for <3 @l00pyluluo7 MY angel 🫶🏼
hope you like it!
i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!
(cross-posted on ao3 only)
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a crime lord, a mental hospital escapee, and a sociopath detective enter a bar.
you think back to yesterday and you have a hard time recognizing which part of the so-called joke is funny but it was one of the rare times yoongi laughed when hoseok said it so you guess it’s just a you problem.
rain falls relentlessly on seoul’s concrete streets, the raindrops biting into your skin like needles. you walk slowly, hands in your pockets and the hood of your jacket pulled over your head, almost covering your vision. you let your eyes scan the dark alley you’re about to enter, but you see nothing other than a few plastic bags from the restaurant in the front of the building and a stray cat looking for something to eat.
according to the message you received in the dead of night from a —ironically— familiar unknown number, the meet-up is supposed to happen early in the morning but as of right now the sky is dark, the rising sun completely hidden behind a thick layer of ominous clouds. a milky mist bathes the city that has yet to wake up in a gray hue and morning seems nowhere to be seen. 
you grimace. 
if anyone were to ask you, seoul doesn’t deserve anything. 
the freezing cold in winter, the scorching hot summer, the rancid smell, its unforgiving nature, the city you were born in has never done anything for you. not when you grew up in foster care, not when you were denied the same opportunities as your peers because of your ‘slightly disturbing’ nature, not when you joined the police. if anyone were to ask you, in all the years you’ve been alive, seoul has never shown kindness and you’ve come to the point you’d rather see it burn than be a silent victim of its cruel ways. 
no one ever asked you, though. not until you met him first and the other second.
they knew what you were talking about when you told them what went on inside of you and be it in loneliness or personal gain, they enabled you in the only way they knew how. with gasoline. setting fire to the rain.
the phone in your hand says it’s 5:26am. you still have time.
you fish for the unopened pack of cigarettes in your pockets. 
it’s weird how the first thing you think about is sergeant kim and his passionate hate for your addiction. sergeant kim and the conversation you had almost four hours ago.
his voice was a quiet thing when he found you outside of the police station when it still wasn’t raining.  
“detective L/N.”
“sergeant kim.”
“the fires are getting more frequent.”
you let the smoke wash soothingly over your lungs. kept it there before lazily pushing it out. “they are.”
he stood in silence, leaning on the other side of the door, looking at you with a grave frown.
“it’s dangerous, detective.”
you buried yourself further into your jacket and turned your head in his direction, a minimal movement that spurred him to go on.
“and it’s arson,” voice low as he looked around the outside of the station. it was late. uncharacteristically so for him but your case must have been keeping him up at night more than you thought it would. maybe you underestimated his love for the job or his fear for his failures, you don’t know. you don’t particularly care either.
“i thought we’d already agreed on it when we took the case, sergeant. it is malicious. it is arson.”
he frowned and shook his head.
you’ve noticed he often gets these fits of frustration in which he struggles to make you understand exactly how certain things make him feel, as if he needs to explain the reason he’s not comfortable. you think he does it unconsciously but you wonder if sometimes he catches a glimpse of what goes on in your head and his desperation it’s just him trying with all his might to pull you away from something you both know is not pretty. something he knows would put a premature end to whatever relationship he created between the two of you. 
“it’s murder,” just above a whisper. “Y/N, we’re looking for a single man, a madman, a psychopath that uses the same brand of matches every time he burns something down but i’m starting to think it might be a group? do you think it could be possible? i just can’t think about the actions of a single person causing so much pain i–”
“what? so it would take this case from having a chilling lack of ethics to just being ethically questionable? would it make you sleep better at night?”
he stared at you as you let out another puff of smoke that curled around itself and vanished in the night air. it smelled like rain. you thought you saw a gust of lighting from behind a building.
“Y/N, i’m worried about this. i’m worried about you.”
that was a weird thing to hear, naive too, you thought.
sergeant kim namjoon. you’ve known him for years. polite, respectful, driven, maybe too driven. your partner in this last case. he took a particular liking to you after you helped him catch an abuser his first year of being sergeant and as much as it was inexplicable to you it was very easy for him to consider you in no time something more than a mere coworker, a friend, even. you realized with time that he craved human connections no one around the station or the city was eager to give him and he found in your uninterested passivity a sign of acceptance of a new friendship. but you don’t think he’s the clueless, clumsy man he portrays himself to be most of the time. you think he’s just a person who’s so desperate that he’d turn a blind eye, a deaf ear to the wolf in sheep’s clothing working alongside him if it meant he could keep someone close to his pathetically lonely heart. you think he’d be considered wretched and rotten and insane just like the rest of you.
when you didn’t answer he shook his head again. a slow hand passed over his tired face as if to wash away the stuff of nightmares you both have to work with.
“whatever organization or– or crazy person– i don’t know but whoever is doing this knows we’re looking for them. you and i, Y/N. and i’m used to your indifference but i’m worried you’re not taking this seriously. they’re getting closer, i can feel their eyes everywhere i go and i–  this group is–” 
“sergeant…”
he squeezed his eyes shut. to avoid tears from falling from his watery eyes? to ground himself in the shitty reality he’s cursed to live in?
“will you ever call me by my name?”
fuck, he really was naive. still is. always will be.
“sergeant,” you smiled more to yourself than anything but you saw him clinging to it as if it was his lifeline. “don’t compromise yourself over things you wish were true because they’re easier to come to terms with.” he hung from your words. he alway does. “don’t compromise yourself. you’re all you have, sergeant.”
on that occasion you don’t know why you said those words if to really speak to him and reassure him or to drive him away from your business. you just know you did and it seemed to free him of something and burden you of something else. you just know that sergeant kim namjoon passes through your mind numerous times in the weeks that follow the conversation.
you’re walking further in the alley when you’re forced back to the rainy present by the sound your ears capture in the drowsy silence of the early morning. you take off your hood to listen.
someone is following you. you can hear their footsteps, speeding when you are speeding, slowing down when you do the same. you stop in place. you can feel their presence, hear their breathing, their arms stretching out towards you, a hand coming from behind and reaching out. 
a single lit match floats in front of you held by a bodiless fingers.
“surprise.” barely audible, whispered into your neck.
your mouth pulls into a small smile as you stretch your neck to light the cigarette you’re keeping between your lips.
“it’s 5:37.”
a silent kiss is placed on the exposed skin between your jacket and your hair.
“i know.”
“you’re late.” you muse. a drag of the cigarette and you gently blow the smoke in the dark in front of you.
the voice talking to you finally gets a face when the man behind you slowly circles you. he lets his hands travel from your shoulder to your waist as he comes standing in front of you. his eyes are crinkled with glee, his usually mischievous grin softens when he sees how you’re looking at him: amusement hidden by a thin veil of annoyance.
he takes your face in his hands, a rough thumb swipes over your cheekbone. the smell of sulfur hides his usually earthly perfume. 
“seven minutes, love.”
“seven minutes late.”
he huffs out a laugh and lets his hands pass through the wet strands of his hair.
he looks good even with ash in them and eye bags under his eyes. 
it makes you feel weird when you think about these things. when you find yourself admiring him as if you’ve finally found something worthy in the pool of mediocrity you’ve been swimming in since you can remember. it never occurred to you that people —insipid, dull, hypocritical— could make you feel like you didn’t want the world to end anymore. 
they both made you change that about yourself and at first it was alarming how quickly you fell into them. you don’t know what it was but for the first time, you felt seen. not understood or full, no they couldn’t do that with you just as much you couldn’t understand or fill them, but you were visible. you were there, and they were too.
hoseok lazily looks around the dark alley one last time before taking your hand in his and gently pulling you along inside the building, to the flights of stairs that take you to the roof. 
you know that with his silence he’s giving you the time to come back to yourself, to hide again what you know he’s already seen time and time again. it’s still hard for you to freely show what you feel but they’ve never pushed you and often you find yourself wanting to tell them how glad you are about it.
“he’s late too, you know. i hope he gets the same treatment when he arrives, mh?” he quips once you reach the roof and the other man’s dark mop of hair is not standing there, tapping an impatient foot on the cement floor. 
“he has responsibilities. he’s gonna be late sometimes.”
hoseok gasps, “and i don’t?!”
“your only responsibilities are lighting a match and hiding from whatever mental hospital you ran away from, jack. stop whining, you know i don’t particularly like it when you do it.”
he pouts as you blow smoke in his face. you know he wants to argue against words that are nothing more than simple truth but he settles on whining more. “and i don’t like it when you call me jack.”
“i know.”
“then why do you do it?”
“you’re cute when you’re upset, hobi.”
he sputters out something about indulging crazy people just as the rusty door of the rooftop creaks open.
he stands there. the healed scar on his eyes casts a dark shadow on his porcelain skin. he looks the part, you think. born and raised in the same city that doomed you from the start. you also think that’s why you found him and he found you. you’re not that different.
you take the last drag of the cigarette and throw the butt on the floor, putting it out with the heel of your boots.
“did you finish the job?”
you look up at him as hoseok stands behind you. his hand sneaks to your waist. you know he’s sending a proud smile to yoongi.
“you know we always do,” you answer calmly, truthfully. it’s just facts. you always do. you always follow through with his requests. this time it was seoul police getting too comfortable snooping around his business, the next time could be one of his allies threatening his authority a little too much. he trusts you. you trust him. it’s a mutual act of something akin to what people call love. it’s not even that absurd if one thinks about all the things people say they do for love. you’re just humans like the rest of them. fragments of decay.
“and they said i had ‘behavioral issues’” hoseok scoffs from behind you.
yoongi smiles at the picture in front of him. he takes your hand in his, kisses your knuckles. does the same with hoseok. sweeps a thumb over a dark smudge of coal on his cheek. 
the sun must have risen behind the thick layer of clouds —the bubbling of the tempest can be heard in the distance. the three of you stand there, huddled close, subtly holding hands. dark smoke, the blaring siren of an alarm, and faint screams rise from the police station in front of the office building you're in while the rain still cascades unforgiving from the heavens.
a crime lord, a mental hospital escapee, and a sociopath detective enter a bar.
you still don’t get it but you let out a silent chuckle anyway. if it made your partners laugh that much in bed last night then it truly must be funny.
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end note. i didn't want to put this at the beginning bc i didn't want to spoil anything but i started writing joon's texts/ voicemails to Y/N after the 'incident' and if you're curious pls tell me i can finish them and maybe do a little drabble spin off on that! lmk <33
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danvillecheese · 11 months
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the general audience versus the rest of us
this analysis is not to degrade anyone outside of or in the fandom, it’s simply to showcase how differently people remember phineas and ferb. there are a number of topics I will delve into, all of which are lovingly put into sections under the cut. so, with no further ado… enjoy!
how normal people watch it
so if you’re like me and watched pnf occasionally on tv growing up you’ll remember bits of the show. you’ll remember it’s repetitive and episodic nature, the way everything goes back to how it was at the start of the day. phineas and ferb think of something to do, candace attempts to bust them, perry fights doofenshmirtz, and doofs machine makes phineas and ferb’s invention disappear, sticking to the status quo of what linda typically sees. it’s predictable, but not in the sense that you necessarily know what’s going to happen. maybe you do, or something happens that subverts your expectations. the “typical phineas and ferb episode structure” (or TPNFES, I’m calling it that now) is how a lot of people who haven’t seen the show in a while will remember it. or maybe not. maybe they remember doof making an inator that does x. or they remember the aglet song (never forget ze aglet!). it’s typically something you’d have seen at least a couple of times during its original run.
and no, of course there’s no problem with only remembering one or two things about a show from your youth. I personally watched a lot of shows as a kid that I don’t remember a thing about. yeah I watched LazyTown when I was like four but if you asked me the plot of any episode I would NOT be able to tell you. and it’s because it wasn’t something I was really interested in. and of course, kids can be interested in shows and know a lot about them and then hit their teen years and not remember much about them later. but if they go back and absorb that content again? they see stuff they missed the first time, or stuff they definitly remember. hell, they might even sing along to A.G.L.E.T. because as everyone knows, pnf lyrics stay with you forever. (even if you haven’t heard the theme song in a decade you won’t forget the lyrics. that shit is hardwired into you from the moment you first see it.)
my point is, a casual viewer doesn’t do anything more than just… watch the show. hell, sometimes they don’t even watch it, they’ll have it on in the background while they’re on their phone or doing something else (couldn’t be me!!). watching the canon content just once gives them the satisfaction of starting and ending the show. they don’t go into detail about it. they probably won’t open an ao3 tab the moment the last episode finishes. they won’t make a tumblr sideblog dedicated to understanding the intricacies of character arcs, their goals and ideals and how they interact with others. they don’t care enough to do that bc it doesn’t make their brain go insane for more knowledge about the show. and as strange as it sounds, they don’t have it on their minds for that long. yeah, maybe theyll think about how nice the songs were in that s4 finale but after that, that’s it. they’ll move onto something else.
how I watched it
I watched phineas and ferb as a kid. I’m pretty sure I watched it when it first aired, too. perhaps not in 2007, it might have been the year after when it actually started premiering (nz airing is so far behind it’s not even funny). I watched it as it aired, and then grew out of it around the middle of s3. I got a little older, started watching different shows, and I was just generally doing other stuff. I have a vivid memory from 2012 when a kid from my class told me that pnf wasn’t worth watching bc the same thing happens every episode and my socially inept ass went “omg ur so right” and I stopped watching it. fast forward a couple of years and I hear that the show is like, actually finally ending. idk why but I remember it being in 2014, not 2015 when it actually did air (the pnf wiki doesn’t have the date for the nz airing of last day of summer so I guess we'll never know if it aired early or not) but I watched it and kinda just carried on with my other interests at the time.
around 2017, I start talking to an internet friend from the same country as me. we talked about our upbringings and stuff we used to watch on tv, and she brings up phineas and ferb. aha! I know that one! it encourages me to rewatch the show and before I know it, I’m shoulder deep. i mention facts about it to real life friends and family (“there’s a pnf episode where…”) and I go hunting for interviews and comic-con panels with the whole cast on youtube. you know how it is. I start going through the posts on tumblr and I find a sibling show of sorts – one that also has a crossover planned for 2018. I watch that show. I lurk in the shadows of the tumblr tag for a while. I start writing fic. I draw the characters on any piece of paper I can get my hands on.
it all comes to a head in october 2018, when I wrote a phinjeet fic called cappuccino, and one of my favourite artists EVER made fanart of it. and obviously, I had to put it somewhere. I’d thought about making a dwampy sideblog for ages and had no idea what to call it or anything, but this was all the encouragement I needed. I made the sideblog. I reblog the art. then I went through my likes and got some of the pnf/mml posts out. fast forward almost five years, and here we are. still just as insane, just with a new username.
in short — no, my experience watching pnf is not one of those typical of a general audience member. I mean, it would have been, if not for that fateful conversation with my internet friend that basically rebooted me and quite literally rewired my brain to be insane about this cartoon universe. I’m not by any means a casual viewer of this show. I know more than an average person would about it, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I adore this little community of ours. and being able to crack out of context jokes that come from the shows to older people who I know have never seen it, well, it’s a cherry on top.
both the GA and the fandom contribute to the culture staying alive
there’s certainly a way that the general audience keeps pnf alive, even if they have no idea they’re doing it. they’ll make very generic memes about it (you know the ones I’m talking about) and they’ll circulate the internet for a bit, reminding everyone about the show they watched casually as a kid. us, on the other hand, make very very niche memes about it. like hieroglyphics. and combovers. (see what I did there?) ours tend to stay in our little circulation, minus the ones that break containment. you get it in any fandom though, it’s certainly not limited to us.
as many times as you’ll see the posts that attempt to explain the ‘doof is phineas dad theory’, you’ll see just as many responses debunking it. or seeing dan and swampy debunk it, as they should. (honestly I think we need like crystal fucking clear evidence in the reboot to explain it otherwise it’s just gonna keep happening.)
the circulation of phineas and ferb itself through any means, be it memes or actual conversation that prompts a rewatch or even just a memory of the show, keeps the show relevant. I think one of the more notable ways this has happened is dan povenmire getting tiktok famous and basically reminding every older gen z kid about the show. to quote jeff swampy marsh – “plus there’s always reruns so the show will never die” – sure, disney channel itself barely exists anymore but reruns can also kinda be translated into disney+ rewatches or even just the passage of a meme on the internet.
phineas and ferb has stayed, somewhat, consistently relevant. I mean, think about it. since pnf started airing, there hasn’t been a year (except for 2021) where nothing has happened. pnf aired from 2007-2015, milo murphy’s law aired from 2016-2019 (which includes phineas and ferb characters so I count it as pnf content) and catu came out in 2020. dan’s own show hamster and gretel started airing in 2022, and based on the poster, I don’t think we’ll be missing any phineas and ferb characters at all. dan basically confirmed it. and truly, it’s what keeps the show alive, even when it’s not really there.
things in the show that the ga have very different opinions on, re:
candace and jeremy’s relationship
something the general audience haven’t caught up with yet is the way that candace and jeremy interact within the show. sure, if you haven’t watched it since you were 10 then you probably remember candace being like insane and loud about the boy she’s obsessed with. if you watch it again, you’ll see that jeremy is almost just as bad. it’s just downplayed because he’s not a main character. we don’t see his perspective NEARLY as much as we see candace’s, which might make it seem a bit more one sided or unrequited than it actually is.
in the episode “backyard aquarium” from early s2, we’re shown a montage of both candace and jeremy trying to ring each other for a whole day, until candace goes to bust her brothers and forgets about her phone for a little moment. this gives jeremy time to leave eleven messages for her. obsessed much? (it’s actually kinda sweet) and yeah, they’re teenagers. every feeling seems way more amplified than it actually is so both of them getting upset that they cant contact each other is pretty realistic, even if it is just played for laughs.
there’s a lot of really thorough characterisation when it comes to both of them. mostly with candace, obviously, she is THEE main character of the show so clearly she’s deep and very fleshed out. we don’t see it as much with jeremy but we get pretty good glimpses of it when it’s shown. he’s got the picture of her from “the bully code” in his guitar case. he likes her so much! he put her picture in the place he keeps one of his favourite things!! he’s down so bad for her! but of course, if you don’t actually pay attention or care especially about any of that stuff, you’re going to miss it and generalise about it. and it unfortunately applies to quite a few things in the show. sigh.
doof’s relationship with his parents
for real, fuck those guys. I think the ga are pretty aware of this part, and if you asked anyone to say what one of doofs backstories are they’d probably say “his parents didn’t show up for his birth!” or “he was a lawn gnome!”. both of which are specifically tied to his abhorrent relationship with his parents. but what they potentially don’t remember is how he still tries to gain their affections anyways. it’s the classic trope of not being able to cut off your abusers simply because you just can’t, morally. you still want to prove yourself to them and make them see you’re worth having around even if they never liked you in the first place. heinz tries very hard both in his youth and in the show itself to gain affection from both his mother and father. these include:
the teddy bear and trying to be good at kickball (thaddeus and thor)
the original gnome (fathers day)
even the fucking clip show episode from the end of season 3 (this is your backstory) where his mother comes back and he goes in for a hug and is instead greeted with a smack. hmm.
even just those examples are enough evidence that yes, heinz did actually really try with his parents even if they didn’t care. and again, it’s unfortunately played for laughs that heinz is constantly beaten down by almost everything around him but as we know, he gets a real family at the end of the show and things seem to work out well for him. does he get closure with both of his parents by the end of s4? maybe not his mother, but sort of with his dad. and yeah, maybe they’ll get into that in the reboot. but it’s definitely something the ga never noticed. it’s always about laughing at his tragic backstories, even if that is the point of them, not necessarily feeling bad for him and wanting to see him come full circle with everything that’s happened to him. and it does!
isabella and her one (1) personality trait
according to the ga, isabella garcia-shapiro is a one dimensional character who’s only personality trait is having tunnel vision heart eyes for the boy across the street. is your blood boiling yet? mine is! isabella is one of the most fleshed out characters in the show, with a large family and interests outside of phineas. hell, she’s the leader of her fireside girls troop which is a huge part of her personality. she’s brave and strong and gives ominous patch related threats to a man almost five times her age. but no, the general audience will only ever see isabella as the girl obsessed with phineas. I’m not discrediting this at all because yes, she’s obsessed with him. she’s a simp. definitely nothing wrong with that at all! but the ga claiming that it’s her only personality trait? get fucking REAL this girl is deep and gets upset and anxious and emotional about things that have nothing to do with the boy she’s in love with. even if it does have something to do with that, she carries on anyway because she’s strong as hell. it’s not the first time a character has been like that on disney channel — I mean, kim possible was pretty boy crazy but her crime fighting always came first, right? (really showing my age with that reference. wow) and I hate to reference act your age bc it’s vile but she doesn’t only ever spend her time moping over phineas as a teenager, she keeps herself busy and helps her mom at the restaurant and is an RA at her college and does a whole heap of other things! she’s multifaceted and it’s what makes her a really compelling character to watch. and watering her down into just the girl who likes phineas is a huge discredit to her character.
so, where am I going with this?
I’m not saying ever general audience member has to rewatch phineas and ferb a million times to understand every single character arc. hell, I’m not even saying that they have to rewatch it at all. there’s such a huge divide when it comes to it, and obviously not everyone is going to experience everything the same way. a lot of people simply don’t care enough to crack open the psyche of every phineas and ferb character to understand their motivations. that’s just the freaks (affectionate) who roam on tumblr, eager for media analysis of a childrens cartoon that ended almost a decade ago.
for a lot of us, it’s very satisfying to be able to analyse specific media. there’s writers and storyboard artists that put all that stuff in the show for a reason, right? it makes us want to see parallels and understand where a characters moral alignment sits and why exactly buford speaks latin. and for others, they’ll simply watch a show and move on. there’s no need for them for it to be on their brain 24/7.
overall, there’s a stark difference in the way people watch a show as iconic and culturally significant as phineas and ferb. the general audience watches it very differently to us, and that’s okay! it happens with any piece of media. there’s casual fans that watch something once and then the very not casual fans who have it on the brain constantly. and then there’s fans that have been very absorbed in the fandom and move on, which again, you’ll get anywhere. nothing about the dwampyverse fandom is limited to us, in terms of the way things go (not the source media itself. name one other show that has anything REMOTELY similar to pnf happen in it.) most people know the show, and most people don’t know about the insane and obscure facts about it, and I think it’s fantastic.
goodnight tri-state area. thank you.
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Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)
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Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)
Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 
Story Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facial; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Wing-Stroking; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: Got another smutty ass story for y'all! And it's with my baby daddy Hawks!! I had this idea in storage for a while. Idk how long it'll be, but I'll try to finish it before the holidays start coming since shit is gonna get BUSY. Thank you always for the love & views! -Jazz
Chapters: Soundtrack. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.
Read on AO3 here!
***********
Chapter One: The Dry Spell. 
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“God, yes, Y/N!” Rei shouts from above you, his hips grinding against yours as he pistons in and out of you. 
The bedsprings to your bed creak in time with his movements which are relentless as he approaches his orgasm. “You feel so good!” he moans, eyes closed and a smile on his face. “Are you feelin’ it too?” 
You stare at him from underneath his body, barely making a peep. “Yeah,” you mumble. “I’m definitely feelin’ something.” Instead of looking at how much ecstasy your boyfriend is in above you from the completely dry and unsatisfying sex, you look off to the window where the warm summer night air blows in. 
You wonder briefly what other people are doing on a nice night such as this one. Hopefully something better than this: lying underneath a man and pretending to like how his fingers are rubbing your clit too hard.
Not that he notices. He doesn’t notice much when he’s close to nutting. You instantly feel horrible for thinking this way about your man, but shit, after a year of dating, you’d think the guy would know how to please his woman. You guess not since the sex hasn’t gotten any better since you two did had it the first time. 
All you can do is grasp his shoulders and let him do his thing. When he proceeds to rut into you like he’s trying to hit a home run, you know he’s close. He usually only uses about 10% of his quirk at this point into sex. At first, you were uncomfortable with the amount of speed he was using so he cut back, but now you’re used to it. 
“Fuck!” he shouts, his dark coils of hair bouncing around his head as his hips snap into yours again and again. He grips your hips roughly, meaning you’ll definitely have bruises on your hips tomorrow. He goes so fast that you hit your head against the headboard repeatedly, but you don’t say anything. You don’t want to ruin his fun. It’s bad enough you’re not enjoying yourself even the least bit. You don’t even have the urge to reach down and rub your clit to cum with him. 
But you do care about the guy and you don’t want to hurt his feelings, so this is usually the point where you fake your orgasm. Getting into character, you grip his shoulders and wrap your legs around him, pulling him in deeper. “Yeah, baby,” you gasp into his ear. “Cum with me, please! Make me cum! Yes, yes, just like that!” 
A string of fake moans and whines you remember hearing in your favorite porn videos leaves your lips as Rei fucks you until the point of no return. The moans that leave his lips are shrill and loud. You sigh, knowing you’ll have issues with your neighbors again over noise complaints. When he finally cums, it is just as uneventful and anti-climatic as a bad action movie. His muscles clench and his body seizes, his mouth open in a silent O of pure ecstasy. When Rei cums, he always sounds like he’s having the biggest yawn of his life. 
You just continue to play your part, acting like you’re cumming with him. However, your mind is somewhere else entirely. Though his handsome face and sweat-soaked body are nice to look at, you feel nothing even remotely close to arousal that urges you to cum. You feel nothing. And you hate that. 
Finally, after giving you some more sloppy thrusts of his hips, Rei looks down at you and smiles, bliss on his face. “That was amazing,” he sighs. “You’re amazing.” You manage to smile as he lovingly strokes your face. “You’re so pretty when you cum,” he coos before leaning down to kiss your lips. 
Now, Rei is a great kisser–he has these full, pink lips that he knows how to work against yours. You wish you could cum just by his makeout sessions. But this is about the only thing he’s really good at when it comes to physical intimacy, especially in the bedroom. It isn’t that he doesn’t care about your pleasure too, but he isn’t attentive. He doesn’t quite know or understand your body. 
Or maybe you just don’t know yours. That may be another reason why you’re not feeling sexy time with your boyfriend. 
You look away towards the window as your boyfriend rolls off of you, satisfied with the unfulfilling sex you two just had. You don’t tell him you didn’t cum. You just let him feel proud of himself, not wanting to argue or hurt him. But the simmering frustration inside of you doesn’t let up. 
Rei reaches for you for a snuggle like you usually do after sex, but you’re not in the mood to pretend tonight. “Um!” you squeak, suddenly sitting up straight. Rei stares at you, confused. “I-I’m gonna go pee,” you tell him, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back.” 
Rei, in all of his beauty, with his tan skin, toned body, and that cute little mole on his chin, smiles at you. “Hurry back,” he coos, sitting up against the headboard of your bed. You smile and slip out of bed, quickly grabbing your robe from the floor that Rei ripped off of you beforehand. 
You slip into your private bedroom and close the door, locking it for good measure. Then you sit on the edge of your bathtub and put your head in your hands. Your body yearns for release and your pussy aches in desperation. You’d run the sink water and masturbate if you didn’t know you’d feel guilty for it later.
You groan, running your hands through your hair. “Why are you like this?” you ask yourself. 
You wish you had the answer. The unfulfilling sex is nothing new–it’s been happening for months now. You don’t know when you realized how much you despised having sex with Rei, but it never let up or resolved itself. 
For one, the sex is boring. While Rei loves his missionary and doggy style but he doesn’t mind switching things up when you ask. You want to 69? He does it. You want to be on top? He lets you with no problem. 
But kink has never been Rei’s thing in the bedroom. There was one time you and Rei tried handcuffs one night, but he had lost the key, so you never ventured down the road to kinkiness ever again. But with every new, adventurous thing you tried in the bedroom, nothing worked. While it’s totally fine for kinky sex to not be someone’s thing, there are times when you want more from Rei. You want some excitement! Some razzle dazzle! Something to have you coming back for more!
Secondly, Rei isn’t as attentive or in tune with your body as you want him to be. Though you’ve tried to teach him, he’s always pinching your nipples just a little too hard or wiggling his tongue a little too fast when he goes down. You often just let him do what he wants now without speaking up because of how hard he’s been going with work. 
And then there’s a third reason: you simply don’t feel that connection with Rei during sex, which is odd because he’s such an attractive and amazing guy! He’s a gentleman; kind and intelligent; sweet and funny. Not to mention he’s an amazing pro hero, ranked at no. 9. He goes by the name “Tempo” to match his speed quirk. He can control and utilize his quirk extremely well during missions. You’ve seen him in action many, many times since you’ve worked together over the years. 
You found yourself working alongside him at your first agency (which you’re still at now) shortly after graduating UA when you were just eighteen. Word around the office was that he was crushing on you, but you never had a chance to investigate because he was transferred to a new agency that paid him a lot more four years later.
Time passed and at the age of twenty-six, you found yourself crossing his path again a year ago during a mission that involved a bank robbery and a villain with a gas quirk. You knew Rei the moment you saw him once you got a look at his hero’s fit and those coils of black hair that reached his shoulders. After an arrest and a job well done, Rei had asked you out for coffee and that was all she wrote. 
Now here you are, about to rip your hair out over a possible future of doomed sex and no orgasms. This is truly a tragic tale for you both. After a few more minutes of moping and regretting your life choices, you splash some cold water on your face from the sink and walk back into your bedroom to find Rei getting dressed. “What’s up?” you ask as he pulls on his briefs and then his jeans. 
“Villain attack,” he sighs, his tall, broad frame silhouetted in the moonlight as he buttons his pants. “Fucker decided to terrorize downtown by setting fire to some buildings. Apparently, he has a Pyro quirk. It’s not nothin’ too bad, but my boss wants me posted with a couple of other heroes I’ve worked with before.” He turns to you, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, honey. I wanted to stay tonight, especially since Rumi isn’t here, so we could spend more time together.” 
You feel a twinge of guilt in your gut. Here you are, neglecting him and acting distant, and he’s so concerned about spending more time with you because of your work. You feel like the worst girlfriend and person in the world.
You go to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “It’s fine. The work of a pro is never done, ya know.” You peck him on the lips, nuzzling your nose with his. “Go, and be careful. I don’t need to see you on the news tomorrow all bruised up.” 
Rei scoffs, rolling his pine-tree green eyes at you. “Please. Like that’d be possible with my speed.” You stand back and watch him put his shirt and shoes on before he presses another kiss to your lips, holding onto your waist. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips. 
“I love you too,” you reply, which is definitely something you say to someone who loves you. At least that’s what you tell yourself. But even as the words leave your lips, you don’t feel like you truly mean them–yet another reason you’re a horrible girlfriend and person. You’re lying right through your teeth. 
Rei smiles adoringly at you before he leaves your bedroom and minutes later, exits your apartment. As soon as he’s gone and you hear his car pull out of your driveway, you sit down on the edge of your bed and run your hands over your face, trying to fight back the tears threatening to push through and make your night even worse. 
“Fuck, I thought he’d never leave.” 
A very familiar (and sexy, according to some people) voice coming from your window makes you jump right out of your skin and nearly use your quirk to fend off the “threat” you believe they are. However, when a familiar mess of unruly blonde locks and goggles peers around the corner to look into your bedroom, you sigh in relief and irritation. “Keigo!” you scold him as he sneaks through your bedroom window, decked out in his hero’s gear too. 
He gives you his signature dazzling, white-toothed grin as he climbs through your window that even the burn scare that stretched from his jawline down to his neck can distract you from. “What’s poppin’, b?” he asks, using that greeting only he and Dabi use to make you and Rumi cringe. 
“You can’t just sneak up on me like that or come to my bedroom window, especially when Rei is here,” you criticize. “How many times do I have to tell you this shit?” 
Keigo huffs, now standing in your bedroom in the late hours of the night, which is a normal occurrence for the pro hero no. 2 aka Hawks. He’s been crawling through your bedroom window for late-night adventures since middle school when it was just you and him. Rumi aka Mirko, the Rabbit Hero, came later while you attended UA.
Not much has changed since then, except now, instead of your childhood home, Keigo crawls through the window of the condo across the city that you share with Rumi. 
“Oh, relaaax, baby bird,” he chides you. “After the last time I showed up and got a flash of your man’s dick, I learned my lesson. Plus, you act like I’ve never seen you naked before.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Remember that time in middle school I snuck into the girls’ locker room?” 
You laugh at the memory, remembering the big ass knot he walked around with for days after that you gave him. “Yeah, and I believe that’s when we first met. Shit, that was a long time ago. Weren’t we in fifth grade?” 
“Sixth,” he corrects you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “But we can reminisce more over our decades-long friendship over some wings, shots, and karaoke at Hoshi’s now that I’m off the clock.” 
You sigh, already exhausted from the idea of going out tonight. Especially with Keigo. The man is like a damn kid with candy once he’s got some alcohol in him. “As much as I’d love to hear your drunk ass attempt at singing,” you sarcastically say, “I’m not really in the mood for all that, Kei.” 
By the look Keigo gives you, with his head tilted to the side like a puppy, he can tell this has to do with Rei. He doesn’t even have to ask, which you also hate. The guy can read you like an open book, but you’d expect nothing less from someone you’ve been friends with for years now. 
Instead of saying anything, he just takes his wallet out of his back pocket and flashes it to you, an eyebrow raised: ‘I’m paying.’ You groan, not being able to turn down free wings, booze, and endless karaoke. “Alright, fine,” you sigh, defeated. “Get out so I can change and don’t wake Rumi.” 
Keigo flashes you a prideful grin at his success. “I never wake cottontail,” he scoffs before turning to the window and climbing back out, laughing into the night as he does. 
You sigh and walk to your bedroom closet, readying yourself for a night of total chaos. 
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mjlovescm · 1 year
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Hey, idk if you take requests, but I started following you because of your Rodrick fics and I wanted to see if you could do one where Rod is a like, 'popular outcast', and reader just doesn't fit in anywhere. Rod is more loud and kinda extroverted, while reader is more to thenself and reserved, but they get along well and find comfort in being outcast together and stuff. I love all of your work btw, and I loved that Steve fic you posted recently:)
She keeps to herself, Rodrick Heffley 
A/N: Truthfully I haven't written in a while in general and for Rodrick specifically, I wonder how many of you followed me just for him lol. Don't worry, I still write for him. Thank you for this request and I hope you like it <3.  
When it came to school, you found yourself somehow more isolated than ever. Over the years, you’d gotten used to it. The loud kids, wandering eyes and little comments. Really it wasn’t that bad, you came, did your work and left. But every once in a while, one of your teachers would say those five words that would completely ruin your routine. 
“No, you can’t work alone.” 
And suddenly you were thrown into a group of basically strangers and forced to work together. It was the worst in situations like this. You were working with three boys. All of which knew one another and were even friends. Leaving you to again be the outsider. Great. 
The school bell rings and like every other student, you were out the door. Swarming the hallway with the goal of leaving as fast and as soon as possible. Pushing yourself through the crowd, you combatted the noise with music. Once you were at your locker you throw your bag onto the floor but before opening it there's a nudge on your shoulder. People bumped into you often. As long as it wasn't too bad, you didn’t acknowledge it. But people clearly trying to get your attention was something you couldn't ignore. 
Hesitant, you peeled back your headphones and turned to see who was trying to speak to you. 
“Hey.” A tall dark haired body spoke. 
“Hi?” 
“y/n right?” 
He asks with a more enthusiastic expression than others who you’d been in this position with. It was a boy from your class, one of the ones you were grouped with. Rodrick, that was his name. 
“Yeah.” You were honestly confused as to why he wanted to talk to you. 
With group projects, you normally only worked in class or just divided the work and left it at that, but Rodrick and his friends were different. He and the two other boys were in a band together called “Löded Diper”. It was spray-painted on the side of Rodrick’s van. They were planning to meet up after school today and practice, so he invited you over so the four of you could work on the project. At first, you were unsure of whether you should accept the invite, but ultimately meeting in person meant getting more done, so you thought why not.
The car ride is quick, it's made easier with music blocking out the boy's conversation. You keep to yourself, sitting in the passenger seat next to Rodrick while he drives. At his house you found a comfortable spot on the couch, but before any work could be done the boys needed to get some practice in. 
“Do you maybe wanna watch us practice ?”
“Oh, uh no, I’m fine.” You try to let him down gently. 
“Oh come on.” Rodrick tilted his head to the side. “You’ll be the first to hear our new song.” 
It was an honestly intriguing offer. You’d never heard of  “Löded Diper” before, so you really had no idea what to expect. 
“Sure.” 
“Yes!” He pumped his fist. “She said yes, guys.” Rodrick yelled to Ben and Chris.
For the next hour, you were the boy's one-person audience. Truthfully their music was interesting, it was loud with decent lyrics, not out right bad but just interesting. 
“What do you think ?” Rodrick asked you, actually curious about your opinion. “Do you like it?”
“It's good.” You told them with a slight smile and nod. “I really liked the… uh drumming.” 
With practice out of the way, the four of you made your way to Rodrick's bedroom and started working. It was the first day, so you didn't expect much to get done, and truthfully not much was done. But in an odd way the day still felt good, fun even. The boys easily found themselves distracted with the random things that filled Rodrick's room, and naturally you followed suit. Intrigued by how personal, the room was. Covered in posters, various lights and scattered stakes of CDs and comics.
“Cool right.” Rodrick stated, referring to the poster you’d had your eye on for a good minute. 
“Hmm?”
“The band, they're so cool. What's your favorite song?”
You didn't have one. You'd never even heard of most of the people in his posters. 
“I’ve never listened to them before.” 
“You've never listened ?” Rodrick's eyes went wide in disbelief. 
Without a second word, he clears all the tabs on his laptop relating to school and pulls up a song playlist. He throws on an old pair of wired headphones over your ears and plays a few songs. You listen anxiously, almost worried at the thought of not liking what Rodrick clearly loved. 
“Do you like it ?” He was eager for a response. 
“I don't know.” 
You were honest and although you were sure it wasn't what Rodrick wanted to hear, he didn't make a big deal out of it. So neither did you. 
“What's your number? I'll send it to you.” He reaches for his phone before handing it to you. 
You typed your number in before returning Rodrick’s phone to him. Barely a second passes and Rodrick is already texting you. He sends you a few songs from the band in the poster and a few of his personal favorites, asking Chris and Ben for more to suggest to you. Some of them you listened to on the spot, playing them while you went over the requirements for the project. 
The day manages to slip by you without much notice, and suddenly you were back in Rodrick's car, this time on your way home. And without your music and headphones. Instead, you listen to the sounds of the atmosphere. The rattle of Rodrick’s van, the hum of his voice against his low playing music. The tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. It was almost calming. Once he was outside your home, you got out of the car, telling him goodbye and going inside.  
At first, you thought hanging out with Rodrick and his friends would be a one time thing, but soon you would realize that that was far from true. Really, you weren't sure how many times you repeated that first day. Meeting with Rodrick by your locker, watching him practice with Chris and Ben, slowly working on the project and ending the day being driven home by Rodrick. After a while, they all started to mesh together into this comforting routine. Once you carelessly got used to it without the overbearing thought of it coming to an end, it did exactly that.
And come to an end it did. The four of you turned in the project and were thankfully not chosen to present. Leaving class after watching your classmates present their projects you found yourself hung low by the fact that it was really over, ignoring it you continued your school day as normal. At lunch, you found an empty table, slipped your headphones on and started to eat. You got about one or two bites in before three familiar faces joined your table.   
“I bet we got an A.” Chris gloated. 
“Definitely.” Ben agreed.
Your lips couldn't help but curl into a smile. 
“I hope, so I’m basically failing that class. If I don't pull up my grade, I’m gonna have to repeat the class.” Rodrick complained, taking a seat next to you.
I guess your new routine was here to stay. Same with your new friends.
Masterlist Stage five clinger, Rodrick Heffley Drum Lesson, 🍋, Rodrick Heffley
166 notes · View notes
tierneysodegaard · 2 years
Text
Baby Pink - Charles Leclerc x Reader
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Baby Pink - Charles version
Charles Leclerc x female!reader
Requested? Yes/No
Anon: What if you wrote like idk...
Baby pink but reader starts dating charles??
And it pisses Max off but there isnt anything he can do about it because he left reader
So like when reader takes leia to the race and while trying to avoid Max she bumps into charles and hes like "oh mon amie! Where have you been i have missed you"
And she looks up at him and just kinda freezes? "have you always been this hot??"
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: Angst, fluff, slight Max Verstappen x reader
AN: If you aren’t familiar with Baby Pink here's a summary: Max and you slept together whilst drunk leading to a little surprise. You fell pregnant with his child but Max left you and your little girl, wanting to focus on his career. When Daniel asks you to come and watch his races Max sees you after four years. He realises how much he fucked up but it’s too late, you’re done with him after all his childhood rival seems to be interested in you. 
Also might do a part 2 with Charles being the Dad Leia deserves ;)
— 
Your heart dropped at the results of the pregnancy test you’d just taken. 
Positive.
And there was only one man who was the dad and that man was Max Verstappen. 
You and Max had been friends since he’d started karting, the pair of you grew up with one another and so did your feelings towards him. Max always had a cocky demeanour about him and that was something you admired. He wouldn’t let anyone boss him around well, other than you of course. You never missed a race, why would you? You’d befriended Charles, Daniel and a few other lads who Max raced alongside in Formula 1. 
The pregnancy test was staring daggers into your heart, scared of what was ahead of you and Max. It was a stupid mistake really, the pair of you went out to celebrate one of his wins with a few other drivers and you both got rather drunk. You went to bed together and well, drunk people evidently forget protection. That morning you didn’t think much of it, you couldn’t remember most of the night which also meant you couldn’t remember if you used protection. You’d risk it before, stupidly but that was a long time ago and luckily for you, nothing came of it but the one time you slept with Max Verstappen, a baby was on the way. 
You’d quickly sent Max a text asking if he could come round quickly as you needed to speak to him. Max replied fast and told you he’d be on his way as soon as, evidently sensing that something was wrong. Now everything started to hit you. Leaning on your kitchen counter your eyes never left the test. 
It was only a drunk hook up and now look at it. 
You and Max were so young, both of you being twenty and Max had just properly settled down in Formula 1. You had finally gotten yourself a decent job which paid well, with the pair of you working together, this could work, right?
“Sorry, the traffic was shit!” Max had let himself into your apartment as he called out to you only to find you standing in the kitchen. “You okay?” He offered a light smile but that faded when he saw your face. 
You didn’t utter a word, only holding out the test so he could take it into his hands. Max studied it like it was some rare object, almost like he’d never even seen one before. The silence between the two of you grew, both of you waiting for the other one to say something. 
“It’s yours…” Your weak voice followed through with your words. “If you couldn’t guess…”
“Is this a joke?” He slowly raised his head to meet your eyes. 
“Max why would I joke about something like this?” 
“Because I don’t want a kid -”
“Well neither do I but I can’t just make one on my own!” Your eyes fell from his as you spoke. “These things happen and I want to keep it -”
“I can’t raise a child!” Max threw the test back onto the counter. “I just can’t, my career won’t allow me -”
“Oh come on Max there are plenty of drivers that have children!”
“Yeah and they have wives! Not to mention they’re so much older than you and I.”
“And? That doesn’t mean we can’t raise one.”
“No.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not raising a child with you!”
“So you’re just going to ignore our child?”
“I have a career y/n!” 
“And you think I don’t?” You stepped forward, rage flooding your eyes. “What you think just because I don’t drive some fancy car around a track that means my career is any less valuable than yours?”
“That’s not why I meant and you know it!” Max raised his voice. “I have worked so hard for this, I have given up so much and I am not going to let it all go to shit to raise a baby with a woman that I don’t even love!”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks. You loved him at least you think you did.
Your eyes pricked with tears. “You know what Max? I loved you, I really did. I gave up a lot for you too and I wouldn’t change it for the world but you know what? You don’t deserve the love of your own child. I’ll raise them and then when they’re old enough I’ll tell them the truth about their selfish father. They can make the decision if they want to contact you or not, for now, get the fuck out of my apartment.”
Max wasn’t sure why your words hurt him, especially after he just admitted he didn’t want you or yours and his baby around. But that one line stuck with him not only in that moment but for the next four years. He nodded at your words, leaving you alone to break down over what had just happened. 
Your baby girl was born in May, you’d named her Leia as she happened to be born on the fourth. She was your entire world although she had the eyes and attitude of her father. No one on the grid knew she was Max’s well… all except Daniel. 
You’d gotten close to Daniel when you used to visit Max and when Daniel pressured Max to tell him why you no longer turned up to races Daniel was furious. He went to visit you straight away, making sure both you and the baby were okay. He even held her when she was a few weeks old, Daniel soon was known as Uncle Daniel to your little girl although he might as well have been her dad considering he’d done more for her than Max had ever done. 
When the time was right you’d tell her everything, tell her about what had happened and when she was old enough you’d let her contact him, see if he wanted to actually talk to you and his daughter after running off and continuing his career as if nothing had happened. 
You and Leia were currently watching a film together, cuddled on the sofa when a knock sounded at the door. You knew who was there. Leaving Leia to watch the film you unlocked the door to see a smiling Australian standing opposite you. “Hello Daniel.” You smiled, the pair of you sharing a hug before he stepped inside. 
“How are you y/n?” He asked, his eyes looking around the room, trying to spot Leia. 
“I’m good, and you?” 
“Could be better.” He gave you a little smile. “It’s part of the reason why I came here.”
“What’s wrong?” 
“You know my family struggle to watch me race because of the strict covid laws in Australia and things haven’t been easy for me recently.” He tried to keep his voice low to not disturb Leia so he could speak to you. “I just was wondering if you and Leia would come and watch me race in Monaco… I know it won’t be easy because of Max being there but if you can I want you to be there.” His eyes scanned yours, full of hope and silently begging you to say yes. 
Although you’d more than likely see Max again Daniel deserved it. He’d always taken care of you and Leia when Max left. He would always bring Leia merchandise from the track, whether it be his helmet or other McLaren merchandise but Leia always had a favourite and that was a signed helmet from her favourite driver, Charles Leclerc. Daniel had always asked other drivers, other than Max, for any spare merchandise for his nephews but little did the drivers know they were all being given to Leia
You pondered on his question for a second, flicking your eyes over to Leia who was still blissfully unaware that Uncle Daniel was a few mere steps from her. “Yes we’ll go with you to Monaco-”
“Thank you!” Daniel pulled you into his arms once again, picking you up slightly as he spun you around, his happiness grabbing the attention of Leia. 
“Uncle Daniel!” She ran over to him, holding out her arms. 
“Hello baby!” Daniel removed his grip on you and scooped Leia up in his arms, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“You’re coming to see Uncle Daniel race!”
“Really?” Leia giggled into Daniel’s neck. 
“Yeah, and you can sit in Uncle Daniel’s car!” Leia fell deeper into Daniel’s arms, smiling and laughing as he told her stories from the track. He took his phone out and started to show her photos from his last race, only adding to her excitement. You watched as the two interacted, a smile on your face, you had no feelings for Max anymore so you had nothing to worry about, right?
You and Daniel were currently in the McLaren garage watching as Leia spoke with Lando. The brit was showing her his helmet and let her trace every pattern she could see. Anyone would have thought he was her older brother at the way he acted so careful around her. 
“You feeling okay?” Daniel asked, his eyes glued on your daughter. 
“I’m fine Dan, I don’t care for him.”
“Good.” He turned to smile at you. “You never needed him.” 
“Thank you, Daniel.” You returned the smile before looking back at Lando and Leia. 
“Leia do you want to get in my car?” Daniel knelt down, grabbing her attention. 
“Yes!” Lando smiled at her excitement, picking her up so he could hand her to Daniel when he was comfortably in the car. Taking your phone out you stepped back to get a photo of the two of them when your body collided with someone. 
Suddenly two large hands gripped your waist, holding you upright as you fell into their chest. Looking up you were met with one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen in your life. 
Charles Leclerc. 
Charles looked down at you, his eyes staring straight into yours as a smile appeared on his lips. “Mon amour… where have you been? I’ve missed you so much… y/n where did you go?” His eyes scanned every inch of your face before moving to your body, his eyes taking in every single inch of you. 
You hesitated to speak, taken back by his appearance. “Have you always been this hot?” 
Charles laughed at your words, the sound was beautiful. “You haven’t changed a bit.” He helped you stand on your feet without needing his support. The feeling of his hands no longer on your waist made your heart sink, even Charles wanted to let his hands linger on you just a little longer. “Where did you go?”
“Well…” You looked over to Leia. “It’s hard to stay around a track when you’re raising a child.”
“She’s yours?” 
“She is.”
“Not sure why I asked that, she’s got the beauty of her mother.” 
A grin appeared on your face as you looked up at him. “You’ve been working on your charm since I last saw you.” 
“Did I not charm you back then?” He smirked. 
“With your old hair cut? Absolutely not.” 
Charles shook his head, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he looked at you, his eyes softening at you. “You have a point that haircut was horrific.” 
“Worse than that.”
“Oi!” Now it was your turn to laugh at the brunette.
“Could be worse, could be as bad as your luck in Monaco.” You teased him. 
“Oh two can play that game darling…” His eyes scanned you once again, he couldn’t get enough of the sight. “Maybe I just need a cheerleader on the side-lines.”
“Yeah? We’ll see how nice you are to me.”
“I’ll treat you better than any man you have ever met.”
“Not much competition there.” You smirked slightly, still looking at him as he spoke again. 
“So are you and Daniel?” He asked the question that was on his mind. 
“No.” You looked back at Leia. “Daniel is her uncle, she always calls him Uncle Daniel… Max is the father. He found out and ran off, telling me his career was more important than his own child and not to mention me who was left to raise her on my own. It was a drunken mistake but part of me doesn't regret it because I have her, maybe with a different guy but she’s perfect the way she is. Even if her Dad is a dickhead.” 
“y/n…” Charles moved his hand against yours slightly. “I’m so sorry I had no idea, if I had known I would of -”
You cut him off as you turned your head to face him. “It’s not your fault Charles. She knows her Dad isn’t in the picture, she’s been raised to know that some children have one mum, some have two, some have none and the same goes for dads. When she’s old enough I’ll tell her who her father really is. Then it’s her choice if she wants to reach out to him or not.” 
“You went through everything alone? The pregnancy, the birth, all of her firsts -”
“I had Daniel when he wasn’t working.”
“That’s still not enough. Oh, love I’m so sorry.” Charles snaked his hands around your waist, pulling you into his chest so he could wrap his arms around you. You were engulfed by his scent, it flooded every sense you had as you relaxed in his arms, feeling safe with him. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
“He isn’t worth that.” You pulled back, still in his arms as you looked up at him. “I feel nothing for him -”
“Good…” He whispered, his eyes flickering down to your lips and then back to your eyes. 
“Mummy look!” Leia made you jump apart from Charles as you saw her tufts of hair from the car due to her being so small. Daniel was showing her how the car worked, showing her how the steering worked too, letting her have a turn. 
“She’s so sweet.”
“Takes after her Mum.” You winked at Charles before looking back at Daniel. “He never lets me test out his car.” 
“You can come sit in mine.” Charles posed the idea. “I bet you’re just as obsessed with F1 as you used to be.”
“It’s hard not to love it when your daughter is obsessed with it too.” 
“Smart girl.” 
“She gets it from me.”
“Oh that I know.” Charles laced his hand with yours. “Daniel!” He called grabbing the Aussies' attention. “We’ll be back!” With that Charles tightened his grip on your hand and pulled you away from the McLaren garage. The pair of you smiling and giggling like teenagers as you ran into the Ferrari garage. 
“God the cars have changed.” You ran your hand across the shiny red paint, your hands tracing over the prancing horse logo. 
“For the best.” Charles climbed in. “C’mere.” He held his arms out to help guide you in. 
“Are you sure we’re both going to fit?”
“Nope but that’s why you’re going to sit on my lap.” The heat rose to your cheeks as you sheepishly climbed in, lowering yourself onto his hand as his hands snaked around your hips and onto your thighs. Charles moved his head closer towards you, his cheeks touching yours. A smirk fell onto his lips as he felt the heat in your skin rise. “I see that charm is paying off. 
You turned your head, not executing Charles to be that close to you, your lips nearly touching. The pair of you could feel one another breaths hit the other. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t fancy Charles, he was gorgeous for a start and not to mention how he’d apologised to you more for not knowing you had Leia than Max had despite being her father. 
As the pair of you got closer you were unaware of the person watching you from afar, Max had his eyes glued to the mother of his child and his childhood rival. He was pissed, seeing another man come into your life and knowing they would be his child’s father figure riled him up in a way he’d never felt before but what right did he have? He’d left you and now you were falling for his rival. 
All he could do is watch as Charles connected his lips to yours. 
You were no longer his, you were Charles’ and Leia was going to love him like a Dad, right before Max’s very eyes. 
---
Read Part Two here
1K notes · View notes
fastandtheformula1 · 11 months
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GIRLLL we need the part 2 of choises where ollie continues his life without y/n by his side but he still keeps in touch with her like after every race he sends a voice mail and also still sends messages even though he knows that y/n won't reply. It was hard for both of them, when you know how desperately you need each other and there's nothing you can do about it. Y/n always listened and replayed the voicemails that Ollie sent, at least it cured her longing. She still watched ollie's races, he was progressing well from race to race and felt a little relieved that her decision to break up with ollie could make him focus more on his racing, seeing him on the podium and smiling, it was the thing she wanted most in her life. But y/n was unaware of the fact that all of his smile was fake. Yeah, he was happy that his performance had improved but it was all nothing without y/n. He became quieter than usual, not more cheerful and even more moody, blue vibe, and once arthur caught him crying alone. Maybe during y/n's graduation, he came and brought a bouquet of her favourite chocolates and asked her to come back to his side? Idk brooo just get them a happy ending istg😔👊🏻❤
Ollie Bearman- Ultimatum
a/n: here is the long awaited part 2 of choices. the end is kinda sucky but we all know i can't end fics like this lol. enjoy!
summary: part 2 to this post.
pairing: ollie bearman x childhoodfriend!reader
warnings: cursing, angst, sad ollie
word count: 1503
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not my gif!
~
Hey. It’s me. Uh, I hope this is still your number. I’m about to get ready for quali in Barcelona. Wish you were here to see it. Know you’ve always wanted to come here. Anyway. Bye. 
Hi. Sorry if these are getting redundant but I’m about to qualify in Vegas. I know you’re only four hours away. Ollie takes on America, I guess…  Miss you, Y/N. 
Hi. Abu Dhabi race! Last one of the season! ‘Bout to qualify. Look, I know it’s been almost a year and I’m not trying to convince you to get back together with me but I want to see if we can- What? But I- ugh. Shit, sorry, I gotta go, but… Come back to the paddock, love. 
That one caught your attention. 
Come back to the paddock, 
Love. 
It had been almost a year since you left Ollie. Though you mostly felt bad about how you left things, there was a part of you that had made peace with it. You both had your own lives to live and your goals that weren’t lining up with each other’s. So why try at something that’s wasting your time?
You missed him though. You missed the pre-race rituals where Ollie held you tight in his arms hearing the joyful shouts and clamor of the outside world, thinking of nothing but each other until Arthur practically ripped down Ollie’s door to get him into his car. When he raced, you knew he thought of you. He made it very clear that you were a priority to him all the time. Although radio chats clearly proved otherwise, you knew in the back of your mind that he was thinking of you. 
~
“Ollie, you need to box mate. Box.”
“But she said to not because-”
“What? Box, Ollie, box.”
“No! Please, I can’t-”
“Sorry Ollie, team orders. Box. Box.”
~
You checked in on him every once in a while, of course wishing him all the best in his career. You watched some of his interviews and still followed Ferrari. You were never going to completely abandon him; you still considered him a good friend. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you never thought about him a lot. He looked and seemed happy through the screen that you viewed him through, his bubbly personality shining through his dazzling smile that you missed oh-so-much. Sometimes your mind had wondered what happened if you came back that night. Would you have figured it out? Would the outcome be the same? Was Ollie really going to desert F2 and possibly F1 just for you? 
You always forced those thoughts out of your head; they weren’t something that was a part of your life anymore. 
Similarly, Ollie felt the same. He could and would never cease thinking about you, even in the most serious of situations. He’d notice small mannerisms in other people that you had, like scratching your nose when you were anxious, and would be reminded of you through certain inflictions in peoples’ words. His pre-race ritual was never the same, knowing that the cuddles and silent comfortable moments you once had would never return. Arthur, being the good friend that he is, even offered Ollie cuddles and extra support when you’d left, but it never was the same for him. 
Now though, you were currently about to attend your graduation party for university. After you and Ollie’s incident, you moved as far as you could from him to focus on yourself and your career. You moved to the States after a month-long debate with yourself as well as your parents. You worked so hard to get yourself into and through school, buying yourself an apartment, and spent many of your days in your new environment with strangers who eventually turned into friends. You had turned over a new leaf, and you felt like a new person.
You could almost say that you had forgotten about Ollie. 
Almost. 
Your parents had thrown you a huge party to celebrate your accomplishments throughout the past few years. They had invited extended family as well as your old friends from elementary school. You flew in a couple of days before your party, getting used to the time difference, reverting back to your old ways of life before you left. 
It was nice to be home, the comfort of your childhood house and environment made you at ease, along with your family and friends you hadn’t seen in a while. Your parents did a good job of decorating the house, placing framed pictures of you in the front room, balloons covering every normally empty corner. You saw family members who you hadn’t seen in years, chatting with them until somebody else stole you away. A couple of hours went by, and a few speeches were made courtesy of your parents and a few close relatives. You felt normal for the first time in a while. 
That’s when you turned and made eye contact with him. Ollie. 
You felt your stomach drop. Why was he here? How could your parents invite him? How do you address what happened? Of course you knew the answers, you were smart enough to figure out your next move, but your mind spiraled as soon as you saw his warm, brown eyes. You excused yourself from the conversation you were having, speed walking to the bathroom. You locked the door and took a moment for yourself.
Okay, you thought. Just act normal and pretend like you didn’t walk out on him. Easy. 
You fixed yourself up and walked back out into the organized chaos. 
About an hour later people started to leave, wishing you luck in the next stage of your life, telling you how proud they are and all that. But all you could think about was him. 
After everyone cleared out, you walked back to your kitchen seeing Ollie having a conversation with your dad.
His eyes flicked over to yours, hesitantly looking back to your dad’s. “Oh, um. Sorry sir, do you mind if I…”
“Go ahead.” Your dad smiled and walked out of the kitchen as Ollie headed towards you. 
He anxiously took in a breath in as you studied his figure. He was standing slightly hunched over, wearing a white button down shirt with navy blue pants. You’d always told him that the blue pants looked better on him, a nice contrast to the black and red he wears. 
His voice was low. “Please don’t be mad.”
“Why would I be mad?” You slightly smiled. When Ollie would come to your house unannounced when you were little, it would bring you so much joy. 
“Dunno,” He said, sighing. “Was your big day, and I had to be all dramatic and show up I guess.” A chuckle rumbled from his chest; a sound you haven’t heard in a long time. 
“Oh, um, those are for you,” He said, gesturing towards a box of candy surrounded by envelopes and stuffed animals on a table. “I know you probably haven’t had those in a while. You know, moving to the States and all.” 
It shocked you that he still remembered the smallest things, showing that he still really cared about you. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you, you were surprised it wasn’t an awkward one. 
“I just want us to be normal again. I can’t stand not having you in my life, Y/N. There’s this hole that you left and I’ve been trying to fix it with racing, my family. Fuck, I’ve even starting up knitting. And I get that you’ve moved on and have healed and everything, so I get it if you don’t want to do this, but I need you back in my life. This time it’ll be different, Y/N. I promise.”
You gauged the situation. Did you really believe that things could be the same after what happened? He was the sweetest most genuine person you’ve ever encountered, but would he still want more after you established you were just friends? You fought yourself back and forth,  surprising yourself of what came out of your mouth:
“Okay.” 
“I promise I won’t- wait what?” He expression changed, 
“Okay. We can try to be friends again. That’s it though. No reminiscing of our romantic relationship, no calling me late at night because you can’t sleep. None of that. I can’t do that again, Ol.”
“Okay. Deal.” 
All of what you felt that night started coming back, the guilt returning to your chest. This boy was  utterly in love with you, and you completely fucked him over. 
“Ollie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just up and left. You deserved better than that.” You looked down at the floor, internally cringing at your past mistake. You were embarrassed. 
“It’s okay. I forgive you, Y/N.”
“Thanks.”
“So, friends again?”
“Yeah.”
It made your heart happy knowing that you and Ollie were okay, but something inside you knew that it would never be the same.
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