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#like... if she ever got into a fight it is because she's humoring you
spkyscry-a · 2 years
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Also never forget that I have two Outer Gods on my blog and Gabriola is still the scariest bitch here.
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r3starttt · 2 months
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YOUR WOMAN
☆ lawyer! Abby
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cw: dom-top! abby. sub! reader. thigh riding. spanking. good girl-princess-angel.
Abby was beyond exhausted. This whole week had been full of dumb people bothering her and her current clients - a married couple, because there were papers missing or formalities unfinished.
And no matter what she did, there was always something wrong, and having the patience she has, whenever she was awake her humor was horrible, which lead to her keeping distance with you. Whenever she tried to sleep, she couldn't, and it was torture to see your clearly hurt expression or having the most stressful nightmares whenever she could finally close her eyes.
She'd proposed to spend the whole weekend with you, but of course she couldn't get what she wanted, ever.
Starting with her being awake early in the morning by the stress and all the caffeine she consumed a day before making effect on her body, still. Then, her clients panicking over another important paper deal that apparently had to do with her. She couldn't even have a proper breakfast, not even sit next to you and at least watch you eat and hear you talk about your week. Nothing.
So when the sunlight started to fade, you felt like a blessing appeared. Forgetting about how much you've needed her the whole week, you needed her to have a rest, to distract her mind a little. And what's better than you both getting what you much need in a little time? She sure can get some minutes for this.
So, with only one of her t shirts you innocently walked outside her office, around thousands of times before she noticed you. Or so you thought since you heard that pretty laugh she has. The one that she uses for mocking you, such a pleasure.
"Come here" she looked tired, and it made you regret your plan, just for a couple seconds before you saw the veins on her hands shine just perfectly when she patted on her lap for you to come sit on her.
"What're you doing? Mhm?" You placed your legs intertwined with hers, making yourself comfortable in the small chair she had been working at all day. Hesitating a little, you responded "nothing?"
"Oh, sure we're doing nothing?" Her fingers trailed a small path along the sides of your thighs, rolling the hem of your shirt up your hips. You, on the other hand, let your weight rest fully on her, positioning the palms of your hands on top of her shoulders to keep you in place.
"I'm pretty sure we do" your fingers grabbed the sides of her glasses gently, taking them off. While placing them on top of the wooden desk, you took a glance at the screen, almost darkening at how long it had been since she paid attention to it.
As much as you desired her, you couldn't dare to keep her busy from work, which didn't seem like the occasion.
Her usual braid was messy, with some locks of her hair dancing above her cheeks. You moved them behind her ears, tracing a path down her neck which was lately followed by your lips letting open mouthed kisses along it.
The pressure growing in between your legs grew at each move you or her did. Her leg bouncing felt like hell, and you couldn't help but rub yourself on her. You could feel her grinding, her hands leading your ass as she pleased.
Your last sight was her eyes closing, previously for you. Her mouth opening very slightly as the feeling of your saliva sent shivers to her whole body.
The grip on your lower back got tighter, lowering till her hands were fully grasping at your ass, trying to prevent you from moving. You only kept on fighting her. "Don't" she hissed.
You laughed in between kisses, ending in her clavicle connected to your lips by a small trail of saliva. Your hips kept on grinding on her lap, and by how her leg also kept bouncing you thought she was just fine with it, she wasn't.
"Fuck it, stop" her voice sounded too overwhelmed for you to take it serious, until she made you take it seriously. "Stop it, stay".
You whined at it, annoyed by all her restrictions even when she was the one that needed a hard fuck this time. You hate- despised that stubborn side of her, the one that kept you under her control all the time, because what else could you want on days like this than just please her and make her cum all over you, make her take a proper break. Fuck her.
You were ready to just sit on her lap, have a quick make out session and leave her alone, but that's not what she meant, and you knew it.
"Don't act like that" her thumb slided outside your lips, down your chin. "You wanted my attention, so bad? Then fucking take it"
Your tongue slid out your lips, making space for her fingers. Her hand pulled you closer to her, pressing her lips against you in such messy kiss. Drool all over your faces.
She'd laugh in between kisses, pressing you closer by holding the back of your head and practically lead you to where she wanted, how she wanted.
She could feel- see the damp spot on her pants, growing every time she groaned in your mouth, whined at you deliciously you'd tuck at her braid. She couldn't wait any longer either.
Her hands pressed on your chest, pushing you enough for her to have space to speak. "You're gonna take my pants off" she murmured, her nose dancing closely to yours "and you're gonna ride 'em"
You stupidly nodded, standing on your feet again, taking your time to get rid of her belt and- god, such gorgeous view. The warm light of her office lightening her legs, her thighs, her stomach showing once you made a mess of her and her blouse. "Sit"
You did as you were told, sitting as you were in the very first beginning. "You think you can get yourself off?" Her hands kept you in place, not even letting you realize what was happening. You just nodded, letting her manhandle you as she wished.
"Good" you heard her husky voice, her hands making circles along the fat of your ass, leading you up her thigh, then down her knee. You let out small whimpers, already pooling her whole leg, clenching at the emptiness. "Good girl"
Every time your clit rubbed against her skin- there was such an obscene sound, wet, loud. Abby couldn't help but widen her smile, you looked so inviting, so pretty, just for her. Smile that vacuumed out of her face the moment you, cautionary, tried to increase the speed.
Her hand moved off your ass, slapping it just a few seconds later. You felt your legs shake at it, such delicious pleasure with a mix of pain starting to mix just right near your cunt. "So wet mhm? Like it when I do that?" She mocked.
"Making a mess on me" her lips pressed over your clavicle, leaving tender kisses along it. Your lips kept right next to her ear, giving her the privilege of hearing your agitated breathing, your whines and pleads over and over again.
There was a knot of pleasure appearing on your stomach, her hands, her words, her smell, her everything was making you insane. The feeling of her bare legs somehow hitting your clit and arousal just perfectly, as if your bodies were made to fit with each other. You knew you wouldn't last long.
The plush of your thighs got harshly gripped by her fingers. "I know baby, I know" You replied equally, holding yourself with the help of your hands on her neck, now being lead to a much satisfying and fast speed than before. "C'mon"
"It's okay angel, yeah, yeah" Abby mumbled as she felt your body filling on top of her. She felt the wetness on her thigh increasing more and more, you could only thank her for it. "Ride it out, just like that"
"Fuck- abby" You let out breathlessly, your voice sloghtly acute. Her hands moved to your back, holding you in place. You looked fucking gorgeous. "Such a good girl f' me princess. Did so good f' me" your ears got covered in a wave of compliments, how you've done so good, how pretty you looked, all followed by kisses on your temple, circles on your back. God she was fucking sweet.
"Come here" you shifter your gaze upwards, meeting her eyes, so shiny and full of adoration. "Kiss" your lips pressed on hers, not caring about your still pretty evident exhaustion or the mess you've done.
"Do me a favor" she mumbled, giving you a short kiss after. You replied with a quiet 'yeah?'.
"Lick my thigh clean, can you?" a sheepish smile adorned your face, rolling your eyes yet doing as she asked you to, a favor, right?
Your feet stepped the cold floor, slowly getting on your knees. Leaning your head closer to her thigh, you stick out your tongue, taking a taste of the mess you've done on her. Your eyes never left hers.
Her fingers trailed the path of your cheek bones, as if she was still guiding you through it.
Your hands travelled to the sides of her legs, stopped by her own hands once she realized what you were trying to do. "Nuh uh, go get clean and take a nap" your tongue got back to its place, leaving one last kiss on her thigh. You weren't planing on fighting with her.
"Good" You stood up, giving her a last glance, taking note of how she looked even when half of her wasn't an unusual view for you. "Promise I'll finish... all this" her hand signaled to her screen, clearly still a bit stressed by her work. "Then I'll be with you, doing whatever you want, yeah?" You simply smiled at her, trying to let abby know she could always take her time. You'd wait an eternity for her if necessary.
"How's that sound then?" You humorously rolled your eyes "perfect" her hands opened one more time, making space for you. You followed her, feeling her hands embrace you.
"Thanks" she murmured, her voice muffled but her face being so close to your stomach. You laughed, completely enamored by her, your hands caressing her hair. "I better get what I want later"
Abby pushed you away gently, laughing back and nodding at your request. "Go" You turned around, getting to feel her hands one last time, on your ass, so sweet of her, right?
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strawbeerossi · 5 months
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You Think, Genius?
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Being friends with Spencer Reid is an adventure within itself. Movie nights are no exception.
Content/Warnings: Friends type humor, tension, mention of food/food fight, best friends to lovers trope, heavy kissing, very sweet smut (wild because I hardly write that, I feel like lmao).
Word Count: 2.7k
Anon Request: spencer reid x sarcastic funny reader? not mean but like kinda like Chandler from friends humour? with earlish seasons reid (season 3/4)ish cute smut. ADDING TO THE SARCASTIC!READER SHE AND SPENCE HAVE A BESTFRIENDS TO LOVERS ARC 🫶🫶
Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request
RIP Matthew Perry, thank you for playing the king of sarcasm and being my inspiration for this. 🩷
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“Serial killers and childhood neglect have actually been linked together for years. Some of the most notorious serial killers were abused in some shape or fashion at home. Which makes sense whenever you take into account how easy it is to psychologically break a person and cause them to shut down, children being more receptive than most adults.” Spencer rambled on about some study he had been reading about.
Everyone was mostly tuned out besides you, your left hand holding the travel size cereal box up in clear view, your eyes wide. “That explains why I can’t stop eating this cereal! My mom made my life a living hell and now, all I think about is cereal. Oh god.” You said in a sarcastic tone, causing Derek to chuckle from his desk.
“She’s a cereal killer.” He joked while you both were giggling, making Spencer look between you and Derek, a confused expression on his face.
“She’s not a serial killer. I don’t think she’d be working here if she was one.”
The laughter continued on at your coworker’s obliviousness. “No, Spence,” JJ shook her head as she approached your chair, gently taking the little box before holding it up. “The joke is that she’s eating cereal. Cereal killer.” The blonde explained as you were turning back to Spencer.
“Oh, it’s no joke. I’ve got six bodies in my apartment right now. Just waiting to get home to do away with them.” You continued on, a little snort leaving your lips as you were getting your cereal back.
As you were pushing a handful in your mouth, you watched as Spencer looked at you with his head tilted to the side. “You haven’t killed anyone. I know that for a fact. You’re too nice.” He said while he was tapping his pen against his desk, JJ let out a huff and waved him off before she was walking away from your desk to get to her office.
“Isn’t there such a thing as killing people with kindness? That is my big move. I will be nice to them and boom,” You punched the palm of your hand to appear menacing. “I go in for the kill.”
Spencer was shaking his head with a soft giggle at the mere idea of it, your sarcasm slowly seeping through the cracks in an obvious way where he could see it.
“Right. How foolish of me to not understand it.” He joked softly while looking back down to the page he’d been doodling on. Your humor was new to Spencer, something he wasn’t really used to. You were a very sarcastic person, hardly ever having a conversation without injecting the encounter with your wit and sarcasm. He was still pretty clueless with it, however he felt he was getting better. Especially now that you had him saying his own sarcastic phrases at random times. It was weird for the rest of the team seeing the way you’d slowly brought Spencer out of that little bubble he was used to.
He was always the one who didn’t understand jokes or take sarcasm, appearing confused a good chunk of his career from the jokes and lighthearted banter. Being friends with you was a good way to learn how to understand though, which was why he was so lucky that you were his best friend.
“I was thinking of watching a movie. Do you wanna join me?” You asked, packing up your things as you looked over at Spencer as he raised an eyebrow.
“Tonight?” He asked, making you shake your head.
“No. Next week.” You answered with a deadpan expression while he crinkled his nose.
“You’re.. Being sarcastic..” He began while you rolled your eyes fondly with a smile.
“You think, genius? Come on, are you gonna come over or not?” You asked while putting your bag over your shoulder.
“I don’t see why not. Can we watch that new show that’s airing tonight?” He asked curiously, already following you out of the bullpen. He knew you’d give him a ride rather than sending him to go on the metro and meet you there later.
“Sure. I’ve been interested in it anyway. The new sci-fi one, right?” You asked as you made it to the parking garage with him as you were both in search of your car.
“Yes! It actually looks very interesting because from what I’ve read, they don’t make up their own rules as they go. They are using actual scientific data and evidence.” He gushed while you were clapping your hands together.
“Like learning in school! Oh how I loved school!” You were laughing as he had taken notice of the sarcasm and nudged your arm.
“Seriously. It’s going to be great! You may not think it now but you’ll enjoy it while learning about the real world when it comes to tech and space exploration.”
“We’ll have to see about that Dr. Reid.”
The ride back to your apartment was peaceful, the sounds of some radio station filling the quiet atmosphere of the car as you passed by numerous street signs. The comfortable silence was something you liked, never needing to strike up a conversation to enjoy Spencer’s company. Even if he was just reading while you were on your phone.
Back at your apartment, you’d just gotten the channel you needed pulled up, having about ten minutes until the show was supposed to air. Spencer made sure to tape it back at his own apartment, wanting to go back and watch alone to fully appreciate the show for more than its entertainment quality.
“Do you want me to run to the kitchen and get snacks?”
“You don’t have to run, Reid. You can walk.”
“Ha ha. So funny. Snacks or not?”
You were waving him off with a little laugh, offering a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Please go get some snacks. I think I have a big bag of that buttered popcorn you’re obsessed with.”
Spencer practically skipped to the kitchen upon hearing the news, retrieving one of your mixing bowls from one of your cupboards. After filling it up generously with the snack of choice, he was stopped by the fridge to grab two water bottles. With the two cold beverages under his arm, he was hurrying to the living room.
“I think we are all set.” He beamed with pride while placing the bowl on the table.
“Perfect. You’re right on time. It should start after these commercials.” You informed him while leaning forward to get a handful of popcorn from the bowl. While pushing a piece of popcorn into your mouth, you were only raising an eyebrow when you felt a pair of eyes on you. “What?” You asked, head turning to face Spencer as he quickly put his hands up in self defense.
“Nothing! I just wanted to see if it was good, that's all.”
“Right. I hate to tell you this, it tastes like buttered garbage. I don’t think you should subject yourself to eating it.” You joked, picking up a piece before flicking it in his direction, his eyes widening as he felt the snack hit his cheek.
“That could’ve taken out my eye!”
“Too bad it didn’t. We could get you an eyepatch.”
That was when Spencer took it a step further, getting a small handful of popcorn before throwing it in your direction. He was too busy laughing at your expression that mirrored his shock from earlier, pieces of popcorn in your hair and some on the couch.
“Is it a war that you want?”
“Me? You started it! Call it returned fire.”
That kickstarted a popcorn fight that didn’t seem to let up. Spencer was reaching into the now empty bowl before letting his eyes widen. He had no more ammo yet you had two handfuls. He was done for.
“You can apologize and we can end this.” You warned, your body now propped up on your knees as you had eventually turned to face him on the couch. “Just one ‘I’m sorry’ can end this bloodshed.”
“Never.”
“Suit yourself, Reid.” You were winding back one hand whenever Spencer was moving quickly to grip your wrist. There was some screaming, some laughing, and eventually you were being wrestled down onto the couch.
“Drop it!” Spencer laughed, both of your wrists being pinned down. “You do that and this will be all over.”
“No way.” You laughed, panting as you were being pinned down, some of Spencer’s long hair tickling the skin of your cheeks. You had both been in that position for a few more minutes before things calmed down, leaving you and the man above you to stare at one another and wait to reach a stalemate.
There was a growing tension, your faces only inches apart as he had you trapped between his body and the couch. Those beautiful eyes were looking down at you, almost as if Spencer was using the close proximity to take in every feature on your face. It was enough to make your face flush, cheeks hot from his gaze fixed on you and only you. The sound of the opening credits for the show you were supposed to be watching was playing in the background yet you could only look at each other.
There wasn’t a beat missed as he leaned down, lips against yours in a soft, yet cautious kiss. He felt like he had to play it safe, although the way you were feverishly returning the kiss told him all that he needed to know.
There was a fiery passion as your lips slotted together, almost as if they were made for one another. Your hands were moving to tangle in his hair, legs now wrapped around his waist as you both gave in to your urges that were always bubbling under the surface for however long you’d known the loveable genius.
It felt right, in a way. The way your were wrapped in one another’s embrace while having a moment of passion that you never expected to happen. However you had to admit, this was better than you ever thought.
Spencer was pulling out of the kiss, face flushed as he stared down at you with a shy smile. “It felt right. I’m sorry.” He whispered, only being pleased with the way you responded by pulling him down to connect your lips again, wanting to savor another moment as if he were going to disappear in thin air if you let him get too far.
The kiss had escalated soon enough, both of your clothes in a pile on the floor as you were tangled up on the couch, nothing but underwear separating you from each other. “Are you sure that you want this?” Spencer soon asked, his forehead against yours. Your friendship was always special to him, so naturally, he was worried about preserving those positive memories and the relationship as a whole.
“Definitely sure. I’ve thought about this for years.” For once, you were genuine. There was no hint of sarcasm dripping from your tone. That’s how he knew this was serious. “I’ve always loved you. I know you know that because I tell you all the time but it’s.. It's different than loving your best friend.”
Your confession had Spencer’s cheeks bright red, head nodding slowly to show he was paying attention. “Y-yeah. I love you more than a friend too.” He said slowly while he was bringing his hands down your hips, his fingertips tracing over your hot skin as he was hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties.
Your hips lifted to assist him tugging your underwear down, your own cheeks hot from being exposed in one of your most intimate areas. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had sex before and you had confidence when you did but this seemed different.
“I need.. Hold on.” Spencer began while pushing himself up a bit, your watching with a raised eyebrow as you propped yourself up on your elbows. He went for his slacks, getting his wallet.
“Are you gonna pay me for this?”
“What?! No! I-I just..” He began, shuffling through the wallet before he was pulling a condom from one of the wallet folds.
“You have a condom? You were planning for this?”
“No! I have.. I asked Derek for one. Obviously not for tonight but I had to be prepared!” He said quickly while tossing his wallet on the table.
You didn’t tease him any farther, instead your eyes gazing over his body as he was shimmying out of his boxers while standing. Just kissing you had his cock semi-hard, his hand wrapping around his shaft to give a few pumps in order to complete the process although it wasn’t too hard with the anticipation of what was to come tonight.
After sliding on the contraception, he was heading over to get settled between your legs. His eyes were glancing over your glistening pussy, your arousal shining in the dim light of the living room. “Wow.” He whispered, hand moving between your thighs as his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit. The pressure alone was enough to make your mouth go slack.
“Fuck.” You breathed while feeling the pad of his thumb start to rub your clit, your arousal coating it with each swipe. He was taking his time with teasing you, at least.
When he was finished with massaging the bundle of nerves and he couldn’t hold back any more, he was grabbing his cock before lining his tip along with your entrance, thick tip breaching your slick cunt as he was slowly pushing into you when you were both ready enough.
There was a pleasurable burn as he was stretching out your inner walls, your hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours just to feel his skin against yours. It was oddly more intimate than you could’ve expected, even with him staying perfectly still with his cock nestled deep inside of you.
There was a soft gasp leaving your lips when he gave a slow thrust, just testing the waters for now as he didn’t wanna go too crazy before you were ready. He didn’t plan on going super hard anyway, that wasn’t who he was. “You alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Keep going.” You urged.
Once you proved comfortable enough due to your persistence, Spencer’s thrusts began to pick up a steady pace and rhythm. Your moans were enough encouragement for him to feel confident enough in the act, not shying away from you as much as anyone would’ve expected.
They rhythmic sound of his skin slapping against yours coupled with your gasps, shaky breaths and moans were filling the living room, the long forgotten show still filling the background noise. Spencer had since embraced you, one arm wrapped under your frame as the other kept himself pushed up over you. He just wanted to feel you close, to hold you as he made love to you.
It was beautiful to him, the way you were holding him and keeping him close in return. It was like you were the only people in the world, no responsibilities other than being close to one another. The warmth of your flushed skin against his was all he needed to be happy.
It was a dream, essentially. A dream so vibrant that Spencer didn’t want it to end, even if he knew that realistically he couldn’t be in a dreamland forever.
As he was torn from his thoughts at the feeling of your hands on his cheeks, he was offering you a smile as you were locking eyes with one another. “I love you.” He said softly, repeating what you’d both confessed earlier while leaning down to press his lips against yours.
It was after the fact whenever you were finally speaking again, body sitting up from the spot you were in on the couch as Spencer had retreated to the kitchen to dispose of the used condom. “Do you wanna come take a shower with me? No funny business.” You put your hands up in defense.
“No. It’s too personal for me to see you naked.” For the first time, Spencer was the one to be sarcastic with you, making you both burst into laughter.
“I’ve taught you well. Come on.”
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cordeliawhohung · 6 months
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a dad!simon scenario that @ghostslillady planted in my head awhile back that i can't stop thinking about and figured i'd share with you guys <3
dad!simon gives you twin boys and they are an utter handful. from the very moment they're born, they're getting into trouble, but it's nothing simon can't handle. it's not uncommon to see him holding both boys at once, as they fit perfectly in his arms. and god, you almost give him another child the first time you see him do this. the way he does it so effortlessly, how he quietly mumbles his thoughts to them as he goes about his day, turns you on in a way you don't think you could ever admit to him.
dad!simon insists on putting the boys into football the moment they're old enough. at first you were worried about them getting hurt, as they're toddlers after all, but when you see them running around on the field, their cleats slightly too big and their shin guards slipping with every step, you can't help but coo about how adorable they are.
dad!simon, on the other hand, doesn't coo at them. he's shouting, cheering, clapping his hands every time one of them scores a goal. you're certain he intimidates the other parents, but no one dares to tell him to quiet it down. every time they win a game, simon lifts both boys onto his shoulders and parades them around the field until their stomachs hurt from giggling so hard. no matter if they win or lose, he always treats the whole family to dinner or lunch after the games, because hard work should always be rewarded <3
dad!simon is a smart man, but the new methods of doing simple elementary level math dumbfounds this man. "why do all those fancy steps?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed. "it's how the teacher showed us," one of them responds. "goddamn waste of paper, that way," he curses. you make sure to have a talk with him about how often he uses "foul language" around the boys. you're honestly surprised their first words weren't "fuck" or "shit."
dad!simon gets you pregnant again by the time the boys turn four, and honestly you were surprised it didn't happen sooner. this pregnancy is much easier to deal with as it's not twins, and the two of you are pleased to find out its a girl. when she's born, simon holds her like she's the most precious thing in the world, and your boys are just as gentle with her. taking turns holding her with your supervision, placing kisses on top of her head just like they saw their daddy do.
dad!simon and you go to every single one of her dance recitals the moment she's old enough to be enrolled. she stumbles across the stage with the grace of a newborn fawn, and yet simon and the boys are clapping and whistling the loudest out of anyone in the crowd. he buys her flowers, which the boys end up stealing in order to give to her themselves.
dad!simon gave your boys his height, and they make sure to bring it up at any possible opportunity. always putting things too high up on the shelves, or leaning their elbows on top of your head. they've also picked up on simon's dry humor, and dinner time conversation is usually filled with a myriad of terrible puns and anti-jokes that leaves you rubbing your face and groaning. it only gets worse when your daughter joins in.
dad!simon and you worry a little bit about your kids as they get old enough to date. especially your daughter, who's too kind and sweet for her own good. so when the two of you get called to the school one day because the boys got into a fist fight with some other kid, neither of you were exactly surprised. figuring they had been fighting over some girl, you were taken aback to hear that they threw punches because of something someone said about their sister. "he called her a cunt because she wouldn't go out with him!" one of them exclaims, causing the teacher to gasp at such a vile word. "no one calls our sister that and gets away with it," the other one finishes. that was all simon needed to hear in order to excuse their behavior. he buys them the new video game they've been begging you get them as a prize. "good behavior should be rewarded," he says to you with a slight smirk.
dad!simon doesn't tone down his affection when you're around the kids. of course he's not doing anything grossly inappropriate, but he doesn't hide the quick kisses he gives you, and he's always surprising you with hugs from behind while you're chatting with the kids or making dinner. always giving you gifts, to his beautiful wife who gave him such an amazing family. and this rubs off on your children. the boys always treat their partners with the utmost respect, and your daughter knows not to take any shit from anyone who would make her feel smaller for being a girl.
dad!simon and you watch as your children grow up into amazing people, taking the world head on by themselves. he forever thanks you for giving him everything he could have ever asked for, something he thought would be forever out of his reach. and there's something a little bittersweet about the fact that they're no longer living at home with you, having become full grown adults with their own lives to live, but the cycle begins all over again by the time your first grandchild is born <3
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exhaslo · 3 months
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hellooo.
I have been reading your stories for a long time, I am totally in love with your writing, and I was wondering if you could accept my requestI've had this story in my head for a while.
basically Miguel is secretly sleeping with the mechanics of the spider society, because they have a "deal" where Miguel can use it wherever he wants, but without any feelings involved of course.
but Miguel ends up falling in love with her, and one day when they fuck, he confesses to her in desperation, because he sees how other spiders are starting to flirt with her, so he decides to confess to have her for himself, which she accepts.
that's all, you can add more things if you like, thank you very much :""
no matter how long you have to wait, take your time
Hello!! Hello! Thank you so much for reading my stories and enjoying them!!! It means a lot to me~
Sorry it took so long for me to get to your request, I was on a small hiatus, (still am actually haha)
Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, jealousy, rough sex, dirty talk, possessiveness
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The atmosphere felt stiff. Normally the basement of the Spider Society did have a thick and sweaty undertone, but this was different. Miguel was standing at the entrance of your shop, watching a few other Spider men flirt with you.
You were the local mechanic at the Spider Society. In your universe, you got bit by a radioactive spider, but instead of fighting crime like everyone else, you built equipment. You were known as The Spider, in your world, a genius mechanic who made tools and gizmos that stopped crime without you getting your hands dirty.
When Miguel recruited you, he immediately requested that you help him with his Spider Society. You agreed on one condition.
Just a simple fuck.
You were still a Spider, you had your own version of a funny bone. It was crude and a very lewd sense of humor, but it helped stick you out from the rest. You didn't expect Miguel to say yes. Hell, no one ever took you seriously when you made your jokes.
It was the best sex of your life, you couldn't just stop there. So, the two of you made an agreement. You would have free range in the Spider Society to do as you please and Miguel would fuck you when he needed to destress.
No emotions involved.
That seemed to be easy for the both of you. Seemed. So, the fact that you felt a wave of guilt wash over you as you made eye contact with Miguel hurt. You were just harmlessly joking with some of the other Spider people who were flirting with you. It was all harmless, but why...
Why did Miguel have to give you such a look?
You didn't have time to call out to him since he left. You could feel your heart ache. You weren't supposed to have feelings for Miguel, but how could you? The endless meet ups for sex turned into deep conversations between the two of you. You fell for Miguel and now you were worried that he believed your 'no emotions' agreement.
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Miguel scoffed as he stormed into his office. His hand rushed to fix his hair as he tried to make sense of the scene he just saw. How dare others try to get near you? You were Miguel's and his alone. Just watching you smile towards another man irked Miguel.
This 'no emotions' agreement had to come to an end. You belonged to Miguel and no one else. Inhaling deeply, Miguel waited to calm down before sending you a message. He needed alone time with you to fuck the sense back into your mind.
Once you responded back to him, Miguel couldn't help but smile. It pleased him when you listened. Now, you just had to listen to his demand for you to stay away from others.
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A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you finished tightening up one of the reactors. The amount of strain that they got due to all of the Spiders working out in the Society was insane. You could handle the work, but Miguel was far too busy to make more.
"(Y/N)? Is now a bad time?" Miguel asked as he casually walked into the basement.
You walked down the wall you were on, "Ah, welcome to my humble lair. For what can I offer you this time, my lord." You teased, enjoying a little cult joke here and there. Miguel, once again, was unamused,
"You always make me seem like the bad guy," He hummed, glancing in your direction, "I suppose I am to you, huh?"
"If I recall correctly, I made the advance." You hummed, approaching Miguel and pressing your body against his, "Are you here for business or pleasure?"
"Both,"
You felt your heart begin to race as Miguel gripped your waist, pressing you against the wall. His lips roughly sucking against your neck as you felt his harden erection grind against your clothed cunt. Oh, how you loved his rough sex.
Miguel was like a feral beast whenever he fucked you. The man was clearly touch starved and he released all of his stress with you. It was a blissful moment for you. Never had you been so rough handled before, but shit, it felt good.
You gasped sharply as Miguel's hands already worked their way into your suit. Unlike the other Spiders, you had the basic mechanic pants as your bottom half of your spandex suit. It just felt more comfortable for you when saving the day.
"Already so wet. We're you getting off on the idea of others flirting with you?" Miguel hissed into your ear as his fingers feverishly rubbed your clit.
"Hah~ Ah~ N-No!" You gasped and moaned, gripping onto Miguel as he abused your sensitive bud.
"Could have fooled me." Miguel whispered harshly as he nibbled against your ear, "Your pussy is so wet and I haven't even touched your slutty hole yet."
"M-Miguel, n-not so-Ah~" You cried, twitching as you felt your climax approaching fast.
His fingers were rubbing and pinching your clit, making your body shiver in estasy. You moaned in his ear as you felt yourself cum against his fingers alone. Your vision was blurred for a second as you tried to regain composure.
"We're not done yet." Miguel huffed.
With a yelp, you felt your self being lifted. Miguel made quick work of your pants and smirked at the sight of you. Your pussy dripping for him, just waiting to be ravished. You were clenching to air, waiting for Miguel to give you what you wanted.
"Who does this pussy belong too?" Miguel asked as he took out his dick.
"You," You whimpered, biting your lip as you eagerly awaited for him to fill you.
"Who?"
"You, Miguel! Please, just...just fuck me already." You begged.
Miguel scoffed as he slowly poked his tip against your hole. His grip was tight against your waist, watching you tremble against him. Your poor hole just begging for him to shove his dick fully inside you. Miguel could barely contain himself. With a grunt, he started to thrust into you,
"Fuck, (Y/N), why can't you listen to me?" Miguel cussed as he slapped his hips into yours, "You are mine alone. This agreement was just for the two of us."
"I-It is!" You cried, holding onto Miguel as you felt his dick hit all the right spots.
You flung your head back, gasping and moaning as Miguel's tip kept kissing your cervix. His thick dick stretching your pussy into his shape. Each rough thrust making you see stars. You could already feel another heat building in your core.
"You aren't allowed to flirt with anyone else. You are mine. I don't want to see my girl with another man. Do I make myself clear?"
"Y-Yes! Ah~ Y-Yes!" You cried as his thumb pressed against your clit, "I-I'm only yours~"
Miguel hummed as he watched your face contort with pleasure as you cam against his dick. His lips curled into a smile as he continued his rough thrusts into your needy hole. Miguel inhaled the sounds of your moans,
"I love you, (Y/N). You're all I ever need and want. So, I'm changing the agreement."
Grunting, Miguel pressed his head against your neck, rutting deeper into you. His thrusts starting to grow sloppy as he reached for his own high.
"You can still do whatever...nh...you want, with extra bonuses," Miguel panted as you clenched around his dick, "And in exchange, you will belong to me and no one else. I will fill you with every drop I have, just to make you mine."
"H-Hah, M-Miguel~"
"Unless your slutty pussy wants to be put on display for everyone to watch me fuck. It's your choice (Y/N)." Miguel scoffed.
You were too fucked out to even register what Miguel was saying. All you were understanding was that he was going to fuck you more if you agreed. Your cock drunk mind already knew the answer.
"Y-Yours. I-I'm all yours~" You cried out.
"Good girl," Miguel whispered and he filled your with his cum, "I knew you would agree. This pussy wouldn't let me go." He said with a chuckle.
You were a panting mess, relaxing from the sex session Miguel gave you. Feeling your back against one of your tables, you whimpered as you tried to squirm. Miguel kept you in place, his dick still firmly inside your abused hole.
"Miguel," You whimpered, finally coming back to your senses, "You know...my sense of humor is fucked...I've only ever had eyes for you," You admitted.
Miguel just smiled. He hummed lowly as his hips started to thrust inside you again slowly.
"A-Ah~ W-Wait, t-too much..." You pleaded, feeling him push back his cum into your womb. Miguel held your legs over his shoulders,
"Have you already forgotten what you agreed too? You belong to me now and this pussy doesn't want to let go of me just yet. Don't you want me to fill you to the brim?"
You felt a shiver run down your spine towards his words. Miguel was always a bit cruel when it came to sex, but goddamn. Such a threat turned you on so much. With a whimper, you just nodded and accepted the abuse your cunt was about to recieve.
"Good girl. I'll treat you nicely for behaving for me."
This was nice? Miguel was pounding you like a flesh of meat. His dick twitching inside you and filling you up with each thrust. You felt your mind go hazy from cumming again. This felt more like Miguel making sure that you knew that you were his.
You weren't sure how long Miguel fucked you for since you blacked out. When you came too, you were sitting on Miguel's lap as he worked on a new reactor. Your mind was still a little fuzzy and your lower half was sore.
"Damn....Miguel...could have been a little gentle?" You whispered, winching as you tried to move.
"You didn't ask," Was all Miguel said before returning to work.
"Fair enough," You replied before sighing softly, "I love you too, Miguel."
Miguel stopped working once more before facing you. His eyes were soft as he leaned down to kiss you. This was one of the agreements during your 'no emotions' contract. No kissing. So this was really, really nice.
"Mhm, you couldn't have gotten jealous sooner?" You chuckled lowly, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I like this evil side of yours~"
"It's not evil. Stop joking like that," Miguel grumbled before leaning towards your ear, "Or else I'll have to punish you."
A punishment well worth.
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I hope you enjoyed!!!!
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charlotteharlatan · 11 months
Text
Do you ever think about what would have happened if Mary Hodges (formerly Mary Loquacious) hadn’t interrupted Crowley and Aziraphale’s “intimate moment”?
Because I do. I think about it a lot.
First off, the way that this shot is set up is perfect. Mary - Mary who had a key role in the whole “Antichrist shuffle” fiasco, and who is a walking reminder of the approaching apocalypse that will separate Aziraphale and Crowley - is literally coming between them. The show is full of these beautifully simple, yet easy-to-miss moments that only last a few frames.
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Now, on its surface, this part of the scene mostly plays as humorous because Crowley and Aziraphale are sexless-by-default, non-human entities who just happen to come across to most humans as a very aesthetic queer couple. So naturally, Mary makes the same assumption as every other human that so much as glances in their direction, and isn’t that a laugh?
Except that…she’s not actually wrong about it being an intimate moment. Not just in the physical sense, although I think this is the closest we see them physically get in the whole first season (not counting being literally inside each other’s corporations, I suppose).
But it’s intimate in the emotional sense too, because Crowley is worried and stressed about having lost the Antichrist, and now on top of everything else he’s got Aziraphale calling him “nice” and poking at some very old wounds (if he’s so “nice” then why did he Fall?). And Crowley is also probably *frightened* - they’re inside a former Satanic convent that kept regular contact with not just Crowley himself, but also Hastur, and probably other demons too. For all Crowley knows, someone from his side could still be lurking about; they could overhear and get them both in big trouble.
And as if all that weren’t enough, I don’t think I’m imagining a healthy dose of frustration with Aziraphale in the mix either. Just a few minutes prior, the angel essentially tempted Crowley into miracling the paint stain out of his coat, and then broke their rules by saying “thank you” for it. Aziraphale has spent at least the last few centuries sending him some very mixed signals and we can see that Crowley is done with them dancing around each other. That game was more or less fine before, they had time, all the time in the world. But now, in just a few days, all the time in the world will be ENDING. And yet here’s Aziraphale, playing the same game as always, acting like nothing between them has changed, even though they both know better.
So yeah, it all comes to a head in that moment, and Crowley (sort of understandably) loses it a bit. He won’t actually hurt Aziraphale and they both know that, but he has to get across to the angel SOMEHOW that he’s experiencing some Big Feelings. And he doesn’t have a whole lot of options as to how to do that. He’s too worked up to communicate effectively. So he goes with the wall slam. This causes an emotionally charged situation which we’re primed to think will have an emotional payoff - the camera pulls in close, a dramatic transition, drawing us in to the tension of the moment right along with Crowley and Aziraphale.
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And then there’s Aziraphale, who…doesn’t defend himself at all. Aziraphale, who is kind but far from defenseless, who used to guard the gate of Eden with a flaming sword, who was supposed to fight in a platoon of angels in the final battle. He’s no pushover, and yet he lets himself get literally pushed over. It doesn’t even seem to occur to him to stop Crowley, not even as he’s wrinkling his precious coat.
And maybe this is just my read of this scene, but Aziraphale’s reaction to Crowley coming into his personal space is interesting in and of itself. He doesn’t act as if this is the first instance of Crowley being that close to him - and it is CLOSE. Their lips are centimeters apart. Their noses are touching.
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And one might well say that all of it happens so fast that Aziraphale is caught off guard and freezes up, but as so many have already pointed out about this scene, just after Mary interrupts he looks…blatantly longing, and then more than a bit put out.
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And after Crowley lets him go, he casually fixes his clothes and goes straight back to bickering. Which may be partially a defense mechanism, because they don’t have time to talk about what just happened, there clearly won’t be any emotional resolution right now. But really, wouldn’t “you go too fast for me” Aziraphale be more rattled if that were truly the first time they had crossed that physical boundary and shared space like this? He looks affected, certainly, but quickly shakes it off.
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And, to take it one step further: Aziraphale knows Crowley. He knows what words are likely to set him off. He has an established pattern of having Crowley do things for him, based on Aziraphale’s own prompting (see also: wordlessly asking Crowley to help Hamlet become a hit). Aziraphale does as much tempting to get Crowley to do “nice” things as Crowley does to get him to do “naughty” things. All of which is to say, Aziraphale may have actually been baiting Crowley here, but the bait is just a little too effective, and Aziraphale isn’t fully prepared for the intensity of the response he gets. But there’s a strong case to be made that by calling the demon “nice,” he’s looking to get a specific reaction out of Crowley. Again, not the healthiest form of communication, but it’s what they have in this context, because honesty would be too dangerous.
Which brings me back to my point: it IS an intimate moment, in more ways than Mary could have possibly realized, and what if she hadn’t walked in on them? How would Crowley have finished his sentence that got cut off, and how would Aziraphale have responded to it, to Crowley’s outburst of emotion, or to their proximity?
Maybe he would have gently and politely pushed Crowley away - but to me, something about his expression and body language says he wouldn’t have. Because Aziraphale is tired of dancing around this too, actually, and in the heat of the moment, he may just have closed the distance. Especially if they’ve had “intimate moments” before this one.
And between you and me, I think they did, and I think it was after Crowley saved Aziraphale and his books during the Blitz. It’s a solid explanation for the increased tension between them in the holy water scene.
Anyway. This meta has been sitting in my drafts since before the first trailer came out, S2 is only nine days away, and I’m clearly very normal about all of this.
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kissitbttr · 5 months
Note
What happens if reader and Miguel get into another fight (it could be their first or second or anything really, whatever you prefer!) and it was like…bad. REALLYYY bad, like it effected reader mentally and physically. So they just leave and don’t come back.
I’m not sure if your comfortable with angst with no comfort but if you are can you do that?? And don’t forget to take your time!!
baby, i hope this is angsty enough.
Miguel and his architect!wife having their first argument
She knows not to ever pushes Miguel’s buttons. Especially when he has been working himself under pressure. But that’s the thing, she never wanted him to feel stressed or see the look of exhaustion across his face because it breaks her heart.
Her love language is taking care of him. Always. They both made a vow to always be there for one another and she’s never been the one to break a promise. So does Miguel.
Yet it seems that the past two weeks have somehow… changed.
He becomes distant. Colder. She notices how he keeps dodging her touch. Brushing her off with his hand while grunting a ‘i’m busy. later’ when she wants him to join her in bed. And it truly makes her heart torn because he had never been like this. He’s always so affectionate, if not clingier even. So what happened?
“Miguel? Baby, you need to rest. You’ve been dwelling in those paperworks for hours. Come on, my love” She smiles softly as she steps into his working office, tugging her silky robe closer against her body,
No response. His eyes only focuses on the scattered papers below him. Fingers furiously typing away on his computer.
She pretends not to be hurt when he chooses to ignore her. Bare feet finding themselves walking closer to his desk, she crouches down slightly to meet up with his eye level,
“Mig—“
“Not now, cariño . Go to bed”
His voice harsh. Whether he means it or not, it still makes her sad.
“I can’t” She frowns. “I want us to go to bed together. We haven’t done that in a long time and tomorrow is Saturday. Our day. Please?”
Miguel exhales heavily, removing his glasses before chucking it on the table. He straightens his posture, arms crossed over his chest as he shoots her a look.
A look that she had never seen before being directed towards his wife. One that she almost jumped out of fear.
“You do realize that i’m working right now? That me” He points at himself, voice growing harsher by the second. “Miguel O’Hara. Doesn’t need a break. He needs to work! And he would appreciate it if his wife stop being a fucking nag!”
That one cuts too deep. But she’s raised to always stand on her ground. To stand up to any man who ever tries to done her wrong. And that includes her own husband.
Despite how much that hurt.
“A nag?!” She asks in disbelief. “I’m being a nag because i care about my husband’s wellbeing?”
He chuckles. But she finds no humor in it. Empty. Just like his eyes.
“And i cooked for you” her voice lowers, gulping as she wraps her arms around herself. “Made you that carribean dish that you love so much, yet you didn’t even touch it. I even walked to the bakery and bought a blueberry pie. Sofia misses her daddy too, you know that?”
She hopes the mention of their daughter would eventually help his emotions decrease but somehow, his expression remains the same. And it only hurts her more, what he chooses to say next.
“I didn’t ask you to do that. And stop bringing Sofia into this as if it would help me change my mind. It won’t” He crosses his arms. He sure doesn’t mean it. Of course, he doesn’t. But he’s got a lot of things on his mind and he needs to take care of them now.
“What is going on with you?” She asks, both concerned and upset. “You have been acting like a complete different person lately! Avoiding me like a damn plague!”
“I do not need this right now, Y/N. Go!” He yells
But she won’t back down. Hard headed as always. “No! Because i need you to close that fucking computer down, tell Lyla that you’ll work on it later and come back to bed! It’s almost eleven!”
“Fuck!” He roars, slamming his fists against the table making you jump. “It always has to be an argument with you isn’t it?! ‘Miguel this, Miguel that. Miguel come back to bed, i’m fucking clingy and i need you right now!’” He mocks her, earning a very frightened look on her face but he pays no mind to it,
“Dana was never like this with me” He grumbles, mentioning his ex girlfriend’s name. “She knew her boundaries and let me do my fucking job. Definitely didn’t fucking nag me like what you are doing now. You’re making me regret my choices now”
And it hurts. Real bad. Because all of the time they had spent together before this argument, he always reassured her that she is the one for him. That no woman had ever came close to steal his heart and make him feel the way she does. Not Xina, Tempest or even Dana. Miguel may had the longest history with Dana but none of it matters because he has her.
Now? She doesn’t know what to believe right now.
She’s heartbroken. Face falling and her shoulders slump in defeat. The tears begin to form in her eyes but she has to stay in her ground to not let him see. It’s not like he cared anyway, he’s too busy buried in anger than to actually see she’s hurting.
“I can’t believe you just said that” Her voice is weak and shaky. Hands frozen on the either side, hands clenching and she feels her nails digging into the skin of her palms.
At the sound of his wife’s broken voice is what finally puts Miguel into a realization. The words he had just said to her, spewing those bullshit in front of her face. The look of hurt flashes across her beautiful face. It feels illegal to see her not smiling because of him.
Oh my God, what has he done?
“Cariño, I—“
She shakes her head, a broken sob falling from her lips, clamping her mouth shut. Miguel carefully walks around his desk to reach out to her, eyes filled with its own sadness but it only makes her step back making his heart break.
He had never felt more disappointed in himself than right now,
“Baby, please.. I-i didn’t—“
The sound of Sofia’s cries suddenly stops him. Probably awaken because of her dad’s sudden loud voice from when he yelled at her mother,
His wife breathes out a shaky sigh, running her hands through her soft dark hair with eyes shutting in frustration. She feels like she’s ready to explode at any moment. And Miguel contemplates whether or not he should try to comfort her. But by the looks of it, she doesn’t want anything to do with him.
Her eyes snap open. And for the first time, she looks at him with disappointment and anger. He searches for the love in those beautiful irises but find none. That’s when he knows, he had completely fucked everything.
“I’m fucking done with you, Miguel. Fuck you.” Her last words go straight to take a jab at his heart, before she turns on her heels to comfort their loving daughter in her room.
Miguel once couldn’t believe that he had everything. A home. A beautiful wife. A daughter. Second chances were given to him and he sworn to himself that he will do his very best to protect them all.
But now?
He might just lose everything he had built
if i were to write a part two, there’s going to be a slight change from ur request nonny if u don’t mind xx
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tender-rosiey · 1 year
Text
panic — gojo satoru x gn!reader
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a bright and sunny day it is, one of a kind and so is gojo’s state which is hilarious to geto.
gojo, all-time limitless sorcerer, one of the strongest to exist, and the most confident person on earth, is currently panicking and it has been going on for quite the while.
“suguru, I am serious! I think I have a problem or something!”
geto chuckles while eating his soba, “do tell me more.”
“so when y/n passes by I feel like my stomach is just twirling around itself or like there is stuff moving inside! I feel my breath hitch and I can’t help staring—”
geto, humored, nods for his best friend to continue, “—and I feel my heart beating so fast, it’s worrying. I talked about it to shoko, but she just gave me the stank eye and left!”
geto smiles. that does sound like something she would do, unlike him, she has no patience for satoru’s oblivious ass, “is there anything else?”
satoru frowns at his best friend, deeply troubled, “you’re not taking this seriously, are you?”
“I mean semi-seriously, honestly. It’s dumb that you can’t tell what you’re feeling,” geto notes and satoru huffs, annoyed.
geto flutters his eyelashes and talks in a higher voice, “is little mister gojo that foreign to love?”
satoru’s cheeks are a soft pink as he protests, “I know love very much, thanks! In fact, I have received it a lot!”
“satoru.”
“what now?”
“if I told you that I get butterflies in my stomach whenever I am around someone and that they make my heart beat so fast and that I can’t help but get lost in their beauty, what would you say?”
“you’re in love, obviously.”
geto merely smirks.
it takes a few moments before satoru’s eyes widen slightly in realization, but he doesn’t get to react further to the revelation as he hears your voice, “satoru, hey!”
he sees you waving from afar and waves back at you with a (not so) relaxed smile. he hurriedly turns to suguru and whisper-yells, “does my breath stink?”
geto smiles and nods eagerly.
satoru’s face turns pale as he looks around for anything to solve his terrible dilemma.
he finds none.
you tap his shoulder.
oh no.
“how are you today?” you ask.
satoru covers his mouth with both hands and replies with a muffled, “more than perfect!”
you giggle at his silly antics, already used to them, “why are you covering your mouth then?”
geto pops up from behind him, “the thing is—“ he smirks at satoru, “he got hit with a curse and now his mouth looks absolutely disgusting. you wouldn’t want to see it.”
satoru glares at geto and before he curses him out, you speak up.
“I don’t think it would be that bad. plus I don’t think satoru ever looks bad,” you smile at satoru and he feels like the sun has blessed him with pure rays of sunshine.
you feel someone wrap their arm around your shoulder; it’s shoko, “let me tell you more about the curse satoru was hit with.”
the devil is here, satoru laments; he is done for.
she whispers in your ears all the symptoms of little mister gojo then pulls back with a smirk, “all of that because our cute little kouhai named y/n.”
you take a moment to organize your thoughts and you, seemingly heartbroken, look at satoru—who’s fighting with suguru—, “you think I am a curse?”
he throws the laughing suguru away and looks at you, “what?! no! you are the most beautiful i have ever seen! are you dumb?!”
geto whistles encouragingly and shoko claps.
satoru pouts then he looks at you, taking a deep breath. “well, the cat’s out of the bag!” he beams and walks just a little closer.
he is back to being confident, no longer flustered and unable to form proper words, but there is no denying the way his cheeks are rosier than usual.
“I like you, y/n.”
you laugh and he splutters, shocked, “I just confessed to you and you’re laughing?!”
“I already knew that, though.”
all three of them turn to you, “HUH?!”
shoko speaks up, “and you let me suffer THROUGH HIS CLUELESS RANTS?!”
“why didn’t you say anything?” geto asks, ignoring the shoko who’s pitying herself for all the times she had to listen to gojo indirectly ranting about how beautiful you look, every. SINGLE. DAY.
satoru is sat on the ground, surprisingly silent, and trying to figure out just what to do with himself.
you sit on the ground in front of him, “first of all, you were pretty obvious like ‘omg she is here; I gotta act cool’ type of obvious.”
satoru rolls his eyes at you, but you continue while pinching his cheek, “and you mumbled it in your sleep more than once.”
“wow, when your unconscious mind knows about your feelings more than your conscious one,” geto muses, “shoko, you should write about this experiment, you will earn a ton.”
“already ahead of you, “ shoko mumbles as she scribbles in her notebook.
a frown finds its place on satoru’s lips as he half-heartedly glares at you, gently swatting your hand away, “I don’t like you anymore.”
you press a soft kiss to his cheek and it catches him by surprise, “too bad I guess and I had so much affection to give too!”
satoru looks at you for a moment before clutching his chest dramatically, “AH! I’ve been defeated by your love!” he says as he comically falls on your lap.
he awaits a reaction and he does get plenty, just not what he wants.
geto smirks, “oh finally, he’s dead.”
“oh my god, let’s take a photo!”, shoko smiles.
“y/n, they’re bullying me!”
you frown, “aw man, you’re alive again.”
“babe?!” satoru screams betrayed.
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or i will hit you with my heel
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luv4freddie · 5 months
Text
The Mark - D.M
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Reader comforts Draco after he gets the dark mark
Exactly what you think it’s gonna be like. Tragic backstory, mentions of voldy and war, so sad, angst/comfort, 776 words
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Draco Malfoy was tired.
He was exhausted, yes. But he was tired of being the man of the family. He was tired of being a Malfoy heir, of being forced into boxes in order to make his family proud.
And now it was too late.
He laid in his four poster bed, fighting against the tears blooming behind his eyes and the stinging sensation on his forearm.
He shivered— he felt dirty. Disgusting in a way that wouldn’t wash out no matter how many times he scrubbed the spot where bony white fingers had grasped his arm.
He wanted to kick and scream like a toddler, but even now he couldn’t express the emotions building up in his chest— adrenaline, shame, fear, all joining in on his downfall.
He laid unresponsive, too tired to move but unable to fall asleep.
He can still hear his mother crying downstairs. She hadn’t stopped since the Dark Lord had left the manor, and taken her sons innocence and choice along with him.
Draco faintly registers the smell of smoke and a tumbling sound, but he makes no attempt to investigate, chalking it up to a clumsy house elf.
At least until he hears your voice.
“Dray?” It’s gentle in a way that makes all of his emotions perk up, fighting their way to his face as he finally moves; sitting up to face where you stand, freshly out of his fireplace.
He wants to talk— ask what you’re doing here, how you got there, if you still love him— but instead the most embarrassing thing happens.
Draco Malfoy starts crying.
Draco has not cried since third year, but a single look at you has him sobbing out into the stillness of the house.
Within seconds you’re next to him, pulling him into your chest and stroking his hair while you mumble reassurances into his ear.
He cries for a long time, giving his mother a run for her money with the his sobs echo off the walls, the silencing charm you’d put up to shield him from Narcissa’s ears only making them reverberate louder.
By the time he’s finally calmed down his voice is raspy and his eyes are bloodshot.
“They’re monitoring floo.”
“I know,” you hush him, “but that’s for the order members. They won’t care about us. They probably think I’m just sneaking out to smog you.”
He lets out a chuckle, but it’s airy and there’s no real humor in it.
He wants to tell you. But at the same time, he’s terrified that you’re going to be disgusted— that you’d get up and leave him just like everyone else when he inevitably disappoints.
You notice he subconsciously fiddles with the edge of his sleeve, and you grab his hand, bringing it up to place a kiss on his fingers.
“I know already.”
You want to cry with the amount of fear in his eyes when they meet yours.
“You- how?”
“Your mom was talking to mine about it.”
He lets out a scoff, “it’s a miracle she can get anything out with the way she’s been crying.”
You sigh, “can you blame her?”
“I’m the one that got branded, why’s she crying?”
You smooth a gentle finger over his sleeve, hating the way he flinches.
“Because you’re now a part of this war, a bigger part than anyone your age should ever be.”
He buries further into you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and appreciating the way you wrap your arms around him, squeezing just enough to press your bodies into each other.
“Do you still love me?”
His voice is so small and hidden from where he’s laying, but you hear it nonetheless, and your heart shatters into a billion tiny pieces at the vulnerability and disappointment in it.
He’s expecting you to say no.
Instead, you grab his arm, bringing it up to where you can see it. At first he refuses to let you move his sleeve, but he quickly tires, watching your every move with droopy eyes and resigned interest.
He inhales sharply when you do it— roll his sleeve up and press a soft kiss directly onto the middle of the mark, right where the snake winds around the mouth.
“The Dark Lord himself couldn’t make me stop loving you, Draco Malfoy. This doesn’t change who you are.”
He breathes a small sigh of relief.
He was still a death eater, still an heir, and still guilty—but you loved him, and you weren’t going to leave him because of it.
So maybe— just maybe— he could survive this war. As long as you were here
409 notes · View notes
m1ssunderstanding · 30 days
Text
Let it Be Close-watch
Paul, sweety, it's beautiful, but it's killing the vibe.
Ringo looks like a very old, very tired lab rat whose been put through the maze a few too many times
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Somehow the air-brown mostly eaten apple is very appropriate.
She looks far too sweet here to ever let John down. Yoko has very kind eyes.
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I love how it makes it seem like Paul and John are calling Maxwell “the corny one” but really we know from Get Back that they're talking about a particular arrangement they were trying out for Don't Let me Down.
I swear he's saying “John” there, not “Joan” and also he said “came down upon His head” so… Oh! And Max died in the end in this version? “Sure that Max was dead” Okay. So Paul kills John and then himself. Murder suicide story. Yeah, Paul, you're doing great mentally, we can all tell.
I love how George getting electrocuted was important enough to make the cut for both films. Poor baby. “If this boy dies you're gonna cop it” from the guy who was just singing about a serial killer.
They're so silly
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Yoko does not agree with me
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Paul: stealing your man, sweetheart. John: oh no I'm being stolen teehee!
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They're so silly
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Oh wait, were those bitchy looks at George??? Because there he is. Idk could easily be him or Yoko.
this poor autistic baby trying to use words (not his language) to explain music (his language)
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“Good MoOornin! Wooah!” I think I just … You know how Mike said people were booing Paul in the theater watching this? Yeah it's because they were pissed he didn't step out of the screen and onto their necks.
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Oh Michael put himself in his own movie too? Huh, cool.
They are always in my heart
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The way Paul says “get on the mic” to John??? I would've thrown something, that was so fucking bossy! Just his tone and his face and his angry pointing fingers. So mean. And John just goes “okaaay”. Oof.
Ringo covering his eyes like a little kid watching a scary movie during the orange sweater fight. Same, babe.
Sounds like the original lyric John's going for is something long “All I want is you. Nothing else is gonna do.” But that obviously didn't fit with the tune. I wonder if there was a particular conversation with Paul being controlling that made the “everything has got to be the way you want it to” line click in.
Oh my gosh! So George is showing I Me Mine to Ringo and Paul and he says the “I don't give a fuck it can go in musical” line before he even plays it. Not after John's making fun of him like he does in Get Back. Nagra reels experts: which one is correct??
George: it's a heavy waltz. Ringo:*claps hands angrily and punches the air to a ¾ beat. I love him, he's like the core of “Beatle humor” to me.
Woah there! Okay this is the John/Yoko pda Peter Jackson cut, I see. I wonder if there's a lot more footage of them swapping spit that might make the “oh John was just so in love” theory more reasonable.
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It's extremely impressive that George just wrote this whole thing last night. You know? John and Paul have brought in all fragments from what I can tell. He's the only one to come in with a basically finished product.
LMAO and we're just going to Apple now. No reason. Nothing happened. Nothing to see. Moving on.
Ringo is so so cute pretending to hide from the cameras. Really he should've been the cute one.
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Is it just me or does Paul drop the sillies and get sad when he sings “always be mine” at John? It's his regular voice, too, for a minute, if I'm not mistaken.
Silly cuties. But John's grin and little sexy tongue action happens the second time Paul sings always be mine, so…
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What friendly artistic collaboration looks like when it's not psychosexual
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Paul: have you played the dubs? George: yeah. Terrible. Paul: Great! Ringo: terrible. John: laughs Paul: (sarcastic) oh, so dreadful. …. John: where's my guitar? Paul: (still sarcastic) well we're just the greatest band ever. Idk I just like this dialogue. It's very them, you know?
This is adorable.
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But I also love how they're already communicating with eyebrows, you know? They just bonded so fast and I find that beautiful.
And then Heather ups their game from taking turns going “chchchchch” into the mic to meowing into the mic. She looks at Paul like “okay your turn” and he sets her down lol he's thinking ‘if I meow into the mic right now after John already had a sex dream last night about me, he might actually cream his pants and we can't have that on camera’
Lol Billy just magically appeared!
Paul you're literally so annoying. You started the goofing off and now you're like “alright lads, that's enough.” Mkay.
He is unbelievably sexy and talented though so you know he does have those little things going for him. Someone write me a Paul/Billy fic please!!
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Kinda crazy how they all four just slide straight from “Kansas City” to “Miss Ann” to “Lawdy Miss Claudy”. Makes me think of something they might've done in Hamburg.
I'm sorry but Paul finishes “please don't excite me baby. I'm down in misery.” And John's immediate answer is, “well you can get it if you want it, and if you want it you can get it!” And Paul ends up singing “I want it I want it I want it I want it”. Nice. Very subtle, boys. And that's before John gets kinky.
I love how Heather just forces a hug from George and then immediately runs away. What a cutie.
But really. How did anyone watching this get the idea that John hated Paul? Just confirmation bias I guess?
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All the cut off conversations kill me but especially the one where John's working though Paul's anxieties. They're just in the middle of it and then cut. “two of us Sunday driving…”
Someone should do a study of whistling in their songs. I feel like it's another one of their tip offs that “hey this one is about us” Anyway I love John's whistling here. He's so good at it. I can just imagine him as some farm boy picking apples, you know?
Imagine booing this poor stay puppy though, like. What? I mean, what if Johann Weiner was wrong and John wasn't crying at the sight of him and Paul playing triumphant together on the rooftop, but at Paul playing his little heart out about their doomed love. Idk it's probably both. Let's be real, John was bawling through the whole thing.
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What is George laughing at? Picture quality is garbage because evil corporations don't let you take screenshots of their content, but he looks like that one kid in your elementary school class that just dumped Cheetos all over his crushes desk and thinks he's a criminal mastermind.
Also I do appreciate all the attention given in the chosen shots to the musicianship. I bet they liked that at least if they had the heart to like anything about the movie at the time.
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I'm sorry but I love how in sync Mo and Paul are. With this ducking and later the shimmying. I know it's wrong to ship Ringo’s wife with one of the Beatles she didn't sleep with, but… idk I really want her to have bedded all four at one point, you know? She deserves it, being an og.
Okay but yeah I'd be having a public meltdown if I fumbled that too holy fucking shit
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Ringo feeling himself as he should
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George just looks like he smells nice. Unlike the others. You know?
John has such a beautiful smile. If somebody looked at me like that I'd put him up on a giant screen behind me on my world tour after he'd been dead for forty years too.
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That pleeeaaaheeeaaase though. Looking at Paul. How did he survive I'll never know.
The cut from screaming Paul to grouchy nap lady is extremely painful.
John was so cool in this concert. Like the epitome of cool.
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Kevin, my love, thank you for your service
I love Yoko leaning so far and craning her neck. She's like a mom at a school talent show. Like “I only came to see my baby.” Type vibe. Which is exactly what she's doing, unlike Mo, and honestly I find both of them extremely valid
You know in movies where the romantic leads are never looking at each other at the same time?
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I think I watched George and John switching back on their amps like fifty times because I just love it so much. And from this angle, you can see John's saying something to Paul about it. He looks serious and he's shaking his head. I wonder what he's saying.
Mal Evans I love you forever for this. Look at his hand on the rail, just blocking them off completely, so protective.
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Them turning to each other at the end always gets me. It's automatic, like second nature, and it's the last time ever. They deserved better.
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Oh Darling duet in the credits are you fucking kidding me??? Was that in the original? “Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh I do.” That's the second time that they gave away in this footage that they know they're talking to each other in their music.
Alright, that's it, I guess. And then MLH is haunted by this experience for forty years until he makes Two of Us to purge the demons.
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skipper1331 · 9 months
Text
Which sister? // Alexia Putellas
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a/n: based off this request. Hope you like it:)
"Are you even listening?" Mapi asked her best friend who was watching you with googly eyes.
Alexias heart fluttered at the sight in front of her, you. Her eyes roamed over your figure, mesmerizing every detail, you were stunning. For her, it didn‘t matter If you were all dressed up, in joggers or in the training gear - you were the most beautiful girl in the world. Yet she had to admit, seeing you in the Barça kit made her heart skip a beat, skin tingle.
"Huh?"
"stop drooling and listen to me" the defender told her stern, Alexias hand flying to her mouth to wip it - no drool. "Gosh Ale," Mapi laughed, "that was meant metaphorically" the girl glared at her friend, sighing in defeat. La reinas crush on you was more than obvious to everyone but you. She held the door open for you, braided your hair every time, drove you almost everywhere around, she would even carry you if you were too exhausted to walk on your own.
She got it really bad, you just smiled at her across the pitch on your first day in Barcelona and then she knew it straight away. She didn't know you yet, but she knew it, she knew that she would fall headfirst in love with you.
And she did.
Over time, Alexia and you became great friends, hung out all the time and she even introduced you to her family. Her mother and sister were two of the friendliest people you had ever met, Alba maybe more flirty but still kind though.
Her mother spoke highly of you, about your good manners, your helpful and humorous nature - she liked you. At some point your status changed: you were no longer a friend and teammate of her oldest daughter but her third daughter.
-
Thursday evening - family dinner.
After weeks of Mapi trying to convince Ale to ask you out, they agreed to the deal that the midfielder would at least tell her family. So again weeks later, Alexia finally built the courage, for the first time ever, to say out loud that she was in love with you.
The conversation was floating by while Alexia held back. She was quiet most of the time, occasionally adding a humm or some phrase. She was so lost in her thoughts, thinking about the best way to admit that she like-liked you that it just bubbled out of her.
"I‘m in love with Y/n"
Alba choked on her food, dropping the fork as she stared with an open mouth at her sister, "what?!"
Eli with a big smile on her face, looked at Alexia, she always had a feeling that you were not just a friend to her - not with the way she looked at you, the hearts that arose in her eyes at every mention of your name.
"You can‘t like her!" her sister spat angrily. There was a wrinkle between la reinas brows as they furrowed, "¿por que?"
"Because I like her!"
Alexia was taken back - when did that happen? The Putellas sisters glared at each other, Eli‘s words falling to death ears. "Well then the fight is on. Let‘s see which sister she wants" the younger girl stated as she stood up, leaning on her arms to intimidate her sister. "Fight? She’s not a trophy to fight for!" The midfielder herself now stood up, also leaning on the table. The tension was thick, holes burning in to the head of each other, "as If you haven‘t gone after every trophy" Alba replied, refering to the numerous trophies Alexia had fought for. "Alba, say one more time she‘s a trophy and I‘ll smack you!"
That was the moment Eli disputed, her fist hitting the table, shutting up both of her daughters. "You," Eli looked at Alba before she pointed to the living room "this way". The younger girl grumbled under her breath as she stomped out, the mother turning to her other child "Kitchen"
"No mamá"
Alexia was mad, she didn‘t know If she was mad because her sister liked you too or because she refered to you as a trophy or If she was scared that Alba would win this fight.
In defeat, the midfielder slumped back on her chair, head resting in her hands. She needed a minute.
Calmed down, Ale looked at her mother with the most heart broken eyes yet not saying anything. The girl walked towards the living room, her mum close behind. Alba was sitting on the couch, arms crossed as she glared at the black screen of the tv. "Alba," her sister said in a firm voice, stubbornly she didn't turn around, her gaze fixed on switched off television, Alexia continued anyway, "I won‘t fight you. If you want her, ask her" confused, Alba turned to face the Barça player, why would she give up a fight? She‘d always fight for everything. "Just- just promise me to treat her right, okay?" The only thing Alexia did fight was against her tears in that moment.
She left straight after, not giving one of them the chance to say something.
She wouldn't fight against her sister, not when it involved something so important - you. She would rather have her own heart broken than to see you sad or miss out the chance of happiness with her sister. She loved you and Alba too much for that.
The happiness of her family and you will always be her first priority - no matter what.
-
Alexia avoided you. The sparkle in her eyes was missing - you were missing. When she talked to you, she held her answers short, partner drills she did with someone else and she would even avoid to look at you - her favorite sight.
In your eyes, she was a changed woman. A few days ago, everything was perfectly fine; the two of you joked around, she gave you a lift home but now? it was as If you were strangers.
It wasn't like you to confront her straight away, maybe she just had a bad day or week and needed some distance, some space. You weren't a confrontational person anyways, situations like that just stressed you out and triggered your anxiety.
You gave her the space you thought she wanted while she secretly hoped you would talk to her - the change in her mood and behaviour noticeable for everyone in the team.
In the meantime her sister shot her shot.
Alba
hola
wanna hang out later?
Weird. The younger Putellas had never asked you to hang out before, at least not without Ale.
Not thinking too much about it you agreed, the girl suggesting to met up at the little café, the three of you visited often.
Later that afternoon, you walked to the café which wasn‘t far from your home, wearing casual clothers. Subconsciously, you hoped that Ale would be there too and when you just saw Alba sitting at your regular table, your heart hurt a little. "hi" you greeted with a smile though, the younger girl giving you a longer hug than usually. "How have you been?" she asked, "you look really pretty by the way" she added, what was going on here?
The whole time you felt uncomfortable with the way she flirted with you or would touch your arm and hand. Something seemed to be different compared to the last times.
Each time something flirtatious came you would change the subject - Ale always being the new topic. It annoyed Alba while it made you smile, happy and calm. Alexia was your safe space and happy place.
Alba slowly began to realize that she never stood a chance. It had always been Alexia and you. The way your eyes lit up when you mentioned Alexias name, the way your smile would reach the corner of your eyes - why didn't she realize that much sooner? The connection the two of you had was deeper and more meaningful than anything she had ever seen before. So while Alba only had a crush on you, Ale loved you.
And clearly, you loved her.
Guilt crept though her body as she understood what pain she caused, Alexia not returning their mothers calls, your calls and her own calls.
She understood the pain in the midfielders eyes the day she made her promise to treat you right.
"I think i have some explaining to do, y/n"
-
"Ale! Open the door!" you banged against her front door rapidly and firmly, your hand hurting from the force behind each knock. She was already in her sleeping outfit as she opened the door like she always did when you knocked. You looked out of breath, sweaty and face all red. "Did you just run here?" the Barcelona captain asked as she supported you to the way to the living room, placing you on the couch as she brought you a glass of water. "So?" she asked again, looking at you with the eyes she had when she was speaking to the team as their captain. You could only nod as you drowned the water, about to pass out. From the café to Ales home was a long way but you had to see her. As soon as Alba explained everything, you ran out of the café, leaving the younger Putellas by herself. Thinking back, it was a bad idea and you should‘ve listened to Alba as she offered to drive you.
"Tell me, what do you need?" Alexia said in a soft voice as she took a seat next to you, wiping the hair out of your face, "probably a shower" you replied yawning.
"Let‘s go" the girl lifted you up, carrying you like a child to the bathroom as your legs were wrapped around her waist, your head on her shoulder and her arms under your legs to support you. She placed you on the counter next to the sink, slowly starting to take your hair out of the plait and comb it, "i‘m going to get you some clothes" quickly, she took some random shorts and an oversized out her wardrobe before returning to you. "Here" she laid the clothes down, "take your time, i‘ll be waiting"
Stepping in to the shower, you let the hot water run over your shoulders down to your feet as your body started to relax. Taking your time but still showering rather quickly, you washed your hair and body. The smell of Alexia - her shampoo - filled the room, it smelled like home.
Ale was laying in her bed while she waited for you, many questions running through her mind. Why did you run to her home? Why did you knock on to her door like something happened? What happened?
As she heard the door of her bedroom open she sat up, leaning on her elbows, you looked cute in her clothes.
You had stayed over before many times, always wearing her clothes yet every time it made her heart flutter and cheeks blush. Alexia scooted aside as she patted on the free side of the bed. Join her. Making your way over, you flopped on the mattress, an exhausted sigh leaving your throat as you got more comfortable in Alexias bed. Both of you stared at the ceiling, neither of you saying a word. "Why did you run here? Where did you run from? What happened?" The questions bubbled out of her as she turned to you, your chest rising and falling in a normal pace. "Ran here from the café. I had to see you"
"From the café?!"
You hummed in agreement, "Alba asked me"
Ale‘s whole body tensed as she inhaled sharply. Did Alba ask-asked you? What did you mean? What did she ask you exactly? "You didn‘t tell me you had a fight with her"
it was your turn to face her, your arm supporting your head. She froze with fear. What was happening? "what are you talking about?" she wanted to play clueless but you knew better. You knew her and you knew now what happened at the family dinner, you knew everything. "Keyword: trophy"
"Don‘t" she whispered, laying on her back again, staring at the ceiling. Trophy, you were everything but a trophy to her, she didn‘t want to win you, she wanted you, to be with you. With a quick adjustment of your posture, you were at her side, leaning over her, to look at her. Her eyes were so beautiful. "You know, If I was a trophy-"
"You‘re not!" her voice was loud and clear, your heart melting while you ignored her statement to continue, "you would win me" her eyes grew wide, a shy smile covering her face as her cheeks burnt red, "Ale," your thumb traced along her jawline before your hand rested on her neck, "there was never the question: which sister. It's always been you, Ale, always" relief washed over the spaniards body, it was the confirmation she had to hear so dearly. Her hands cupped your cheeks, thumb caressing your them. "God, you‘re so beautiful" her eyes were full of hearts, her heart racing as her body was on fire, "I‘m so in love with you"
An upside down smile was written over your face as you got all shy under her compliment, confession and intense (yet loving) stare. You closed your eyes, slowly leaning down, her hands not pulling you in any way, it was all you. The midfielder watched every movement, only closing her eyes when she finally felt your lips against her own.
Sweet.
Your lips tasted sweet. She had often imagined the taste of your lips but wow they felt like heaven.
Even when the question arose: which sister? For you there had only ever been one answer, one sister, Alexia. The girl you fell in love with the moment you saw her tripping over her own feet on your first day in Barcelona.
—————————
1K notes · View notes
swordsandholly · 28 days
Text
Mother’s Day Blues
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Reader
Word Count: ~900 unedited
Johnny loves Mother’s Day. You hate it.
MDNI | cw: vent fic, big mommy issues, mentioned childhood spanking, ED mention
Johnny loves Mother’s Day.
You hate it.
He watches you stand in the card aisle, shifting side to side, reading every single card. Snatching them up and shutting them hard just to shove them back into their little displays - huffing and growing ever more agitated as you go.
“It doesnnae matter what ye pick, bonnie.” He tries to be encouraging. “They’re all nice.”
“That’s the problem.” You mutter in a voice far too weak and bitter for his liking. “Why can’t they make one that just says, like, ‘You sure are my mom!’”
“Sweetheart…” Johnny knows you’re trying to cover it with humor, but the way your brow furrows breaks his heart. He sets a hand on your waist, pointing to a very generic, sparkly joke card. You nod and take it, grimacing still.
He hates it - hates watching you chew your lip and your hands shake while you pace back and forth before the 10 am alarm you set to call your mom goes off. Hates holding you while you sob in his lap after because of course she had to ask in a pathetic, whiny voice ‘is everything okay with us’ when she knows damn well it isn’t. When she won’t ever try to fix it or admit that she fucked up.
You carry the effects of the way she raised you everywhere you go. Johnny sees them all - knows them all by heart. Every time he notices you cutting portions and weighing yourself more than normal. When you use cruel words to describe your body. Every time you don’t tell him that you’re upset with him because you’re frightened of his reaction - body shaking so hard that you look like an earthquake personified. The lack of confidence in your interactions with others, how easily you fold and are ready to people please. Every time you get that glazed over, far away look in your eye after you remember something a little too clearly.
You only took him to meet her once. He’s never wanted to punch a woman like that before.
Johnny is, and always has been, of the opinion that you should cut contact. Cold turkey. Block her on everything and leave it be. You’ve argued about it more times than he can count, going back and forth about what would happen if you did. What the worst outcome could be.
“It’s not like she hit me…” You mutter.
“Spankin’ is hittin’, love.” Johnny takes your hands. “And it doesnnae matter if she did or not. She was rotten tae ye in every other way.”
You just get quiet. Tears well up in your eyes and what is he supposed to do when you get like that? Keep fighting? No, never. It’s your decision anyway. He just hates what she does to you and, by extension, how it effects your relationship with his mother.
Every time you visit is perfectly cordial. His mum loves you - sees you as her own. You’re Johnny’s after all. Her only son. You want to love her. You really, really do but when she says ‘I love you’ it feels like you’re going to die. Every time she hugs you he can see the way your shoulders tense up by your ears and your lips purse.
They’ve talked about it. Johnny and his mum. The horrified look she gave him when he told her only the little he knew at the time was more than enough. Bless her. She made it her goal to be the perfect mother-in-law. Never overbearing, never too needy. To love you quietly and meet you where you’re at.
He’s cried over it a few times - though he’d never admit it - watching her treat you with the gentle hands and words you deserve. It breaks his heart as you try to figure out what to do with it.
Johnny has known he wants to marry you for a long time. You’ve both talked about it, both made it known that you’re fully committed to one another forever. It’s just hard to plan a proposal when he isn’t sure how long he’ll be in town. He got the ring months ago and has just been holding onto it for the right time. So, in the end, he decides to be a bit spontaneous with it. His whole family is going on a beach day, and you look so pretty in your little cover up dresses.
His little nieces and nephews gladly help him set up a little path leading to a circle of flowers. His sister brings her big, fancy camera to take pictures while his other sister hints at you to wear something cute and invited you to get your nails done a week before.
Thank god you’re one of the most oblivious people on the planet.
Of course you say yes, tackling him down into the sand while you both cry. He knew you’d say yea but it still fills his heart to bursting. He buries his face in your neck to hide it, but he can’t stop it. You’re his, always and forever.
As the family congratulates and talks, his mother finally comes up and tenderly takes both your hands in hers.“Welcome to the family, love. It’s so nice to have another daughter.”
Johnny freezes, watching for your reaction.
Your eyes turn to saucers, a quiet hiccup shaking your chest before a full on sob follows. You bury your face in your hands and she wraps her arms around your shoulders. Johnny grabs onto you both.
She might not be your mum by blood, and you may never truly open up to her, but either way you deserve a good mother. He’s more than happy to share his own. Maybe someday you’ll heal. Little by little, by the same gentle hands that raised him.
A/N: Sorry for the angst but Mother’s Day has me fucked up.
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kamii-2 · 24 days
Note
now hear me out. Kk arnold turning reader gay but reader thinks she’s straight
-👾
hi 👾 anon!! i actually love you so much for requesting this and making me decide that i should make this a series, but anyway this is just a little backstory to everything so sorry if it’s confusing in any type of way.
warning(s): cussing, kk and reader don’t actually physically interact this chapter, suggestive thoughts
genre: fluff
pairing(s): kk arnold x reader
“you thought wrong” masterlist
==================================
chapter 1
==================================
kk arnold has to be the finest person you’ve ever seen in your life, everything about her is just perfect. her personality, humor, smile, face, body, everything. the only problem is that you think she’s straight and kk is quite the opposite of that. she think you’re the prettiest girl to ever walk this earth, she has the same problem as you, she thinks your straight.
the only reason youre gay is because of kk, she turned you lesbian. but the way she talked on her lives to fans made you think she was straight but she did not look straight and you were to dense to see that. your friends have told you multiple time that she’s gay but you never believed them.
you figured out you were gay on a random sunday night, you were laying in your bed scrolling through tiktok when you got a notification from instagram that kk was live. you and kk were friends were sort of close, you knew a lot about her, or so you thought, and decided to join. when you joined it was her and paige just messing around, they were play fighting and ignoring the phone as they messed around but when they came back she checked the viewers, “hi y/n!” she said while waving at the phone, paige waving with her. you admired kk’s features and voice and it just kind of happened. you were thinking about how fine she was and then it clicked, kk just turned you gay and made you like her in less than a minute. you left the live quick as fuck and went back on tiktok, them edits of kk started popping up. “fuck.” you muttered to yourself as you favorited all of them.
- current day -
the time was 6:04am you were in the bathroom doing your hair. as you were doing it, your friend symphony facetimed you. “hey y/nnnn.” she greeted, “heyyyy” you replied back with the same energy. “guess what.” she smiled, “what?” you smiled back, “i bought tickets to the Uconn women’s basketball game tonight. the game is at 5:00 so i’ll come get you at 4:45.” your jaw dropped, “oh my god i love you so much, ALSO i have so much to tell you!” you yelled while clapping.
-
after all of your classes you went back to your dorm and waited for symphony to get there. while you waiting you scrolled on tiktok, favoriting kk edits as you scrolled. at around 4:00 you decided to redo your hair and touch up your makeup, at 4:44 symphony texted you that she was outside and you grabbed everything you needed then headed out the door to her car. “heyyy.” you said happily as you got in, “hiii.” she smiled. “okay so a few days ago i joined kk arnold’s live the boom i found out im gay and that i like her in less than a minute.” you dumped on her the moment she went silent, “AS IN THE BASKETBALL PLAYER?” she yelled, “isn’t there only one kk arnold?” you asked, “OH MY GOD.” she yelled again. “okay, okay, we have to go if we wanna make it on time.” you were trying to make her stop yelling, “sorry, i can’t believe what you just told me man.” she was now laughing.
when you guys got to your seats the game was about to start in 2 minutes. you guys talked about college, the basketball teams, and drama. once the team came out symphony was checking everyone out, “ooh, number 10 lowkey fine, not even lowkey, highkey!” she muttered to you, you just laughed at her antics and kept watching them play. “i know you said that you liked kk but i can’t help but admit the fact that she’s fine as hell.” symphony muttered to you again, “i know. bro she literally turned me gay.”
as the game went on you and symphony kept talking about the basketball team and you guys got back on the topic of your sexuality. “kk is gay for sure.” symphony added on to your last sentence, “no she’s not she doesn’t look- she definitely looks gay but the things she says aren’t. she talks about her man all the time on lives.” you defended her, “are you dense?” symphony looked at you like you had 7 eyes. “she’s saying that stuff because she’s famous and has fans and people who look up to her.” symphony argued. “true.” you mumbled and the conversation ended there.
-
after the game, you and symphony went out to eat then she dropped you off at your dorm. you thought about what symphony had said until you fell asleep, is kk really gay or straight and looks gay? you weren’t sure and honestly you really wanted to find out.
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okay so before i finish everything off, let me introduce the characters
y/n l/n: 18, from chicago illinois (illinois barely gets any recognition and that’s where i’m from just not chicago and this is my story so i can do whatever i want)
symphony roy: 18, from chicago illinois, black, y/n’s childhood friend
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i hope you guys enjoyed the first part of “you thought wrong” !! i will post more parts later this week anyway i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋
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rosazoldyckk · 1 year
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𐬾𐬽Life with the Zoldyck family HC’s𐬾𐬽
Pairing: Yandere!Illumi X Kidnapped!Reader. Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Genre: fluff?? Idk tbh. TW’s: mentioning of kidnapping, manipulation, violence and possessive nature. And Illumi.
Disclaimer: I posted this on my last tumblr account but it got deleted and I can’t get it back. So it will be posted here😅 this post got a lot of attention on my last account so if this post is recognised from anyone then I want to say this hasn’t been stolen and is my original work <3
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Living with the Zoldyck family is scary..... and strange.
There was fear and the constant paranoia that you were going to die—either in the hands of Illumi himself or a member of his family, you didn't know which.
However, you have nothing to fear, Illumi, in his weird and creepy way, always finds a way to reassure you that as long as you love him (and only him) you have nothing to worry about!
Of course, it takes sometime to get used to the sinister and grim place—along with the unerving, and dark, humor some of the family members have. *cough* Milluki *cough*
Illumi, as well as the rest of the Zoldyck family, are well prepared to deal with your timid and skittish personality. 
Anything assassin related is kept to a low (demanded by Illumi) and you won't be exposed to any Nen until he feels as though you won't faint at the sight.
Surprisly, Illumi isn't as mean or harsh to you...but don't let that fool you. He is, without a doubt, a manipulator. The dark male could go two ways on how he treats you as you adjust to your new life.
Be submissive and accepting your fate will earn you more freedom (ie allowing you to accompany him and his family to social gatherings and being shown to the public. Heck, you might even be allowed to come along and watch him do is job, fun right?).
 Be difficult and distant...he will have his fun breaking you. You will be chained to him (literally) with no free will whatsoever.
  If you need to pee, he has to permit it. Oh? You're hungry? That's too bad! He's stuffed from dinner (in which you had to watch). Exhausted, my dear? Maybe you shouldn't have been a brat and you could sleep.
It depends on how you take it, but, eventually, you will start to love the male and he will bask in it.
Silvia and Zeno absolutely adore you. Zeno finding your "love story" with Illumi to be romantic as their parents and Silvia being glad that his eldest son has found a 'submissive' keeper. (Not like Illumi will ever let you go)
Kikyo however is pretty hard to get along with but she'll never seem to understand that. If she considers you an outsider still, then she is very cold and standoffish.
She'll even go as far as to try to chase you away with physical and verbal attacks. (Until Silvia intervenes at least)
It will become worse if she decides to treat you like family, she is very possessive of her children. So once she considers you good luck, contrats you have one protective and doting fan.
She will be a bit borderline creepy but hey that just means she likes you
Other than that, You get along with almost everyone in the house
almost everyone.
Milluki has a problem with you. 
Whether it's because he doesn't find you worthy of the Zoldycks' name or because he can't stand how caring and soft looking you are.
Maybe, it's because he has his own crush on you? 
Or perhaps he's upset because he can't play with the new toy? Either way, he finds you a useless nuisance and will make things difficult for you to adjust.
Mulling over the idea of Milluki having a crush on you, I can see him being a bit of a voyeur.
 Watching you and Illumi when you both indulge in sexual activities and sneaking peeks at you as you bath or sleep. 
He's jealous of his older brother and will eventually challenge him to a fight over you (of course that only happens when he manages to get close to you, which once again will be impossible). 
(And lets be honest would he really win against Illumi? I doubt it. But I bet it would be funny to see him fight haha)
All in all, living with the Zoldyck family is without a doubt overbearing and scary. But, be a good girl/boy and play along with Illumi and all will go smoothly. You will gain the families upmost respect and be treated like a member, and Illumi will treat you with the highest respect.
But be difficult and refuse to comply will only lead you with heartache and misery. Illumi won't hesitate to stick a couple needles into your head until you behave.
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farfromstrange · 4 months
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Weed Cookies | Matt Murdock x F!Reader
PART 3 of The Vault
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See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: Karen receives a box of cookies from one of their clients. Foggy and Matt take a bite. Even with his heightened senses though, Matt doesn't realize what's wrong with the cookies before he's absolutely wasted, and you have to babysit him. Yes, they were edibles.
Warnings: Fluff, faint hints at S3 depressed!Matt and suicidal ideations, attempt at humor, crack fic, accidental drug use, for the sake of this fic we are going to pretend that the edibles were made well enough for Mister I-Know-Everything to miss it
Word Count: 3.4k
A/n: I wrote this after watching the episode of Grey's Anatomy with the Weed Cookies. I took some behaviorisms from my own experiences and exaggerated them a little to fit the vibe of this fic. I scraped parts of this and once again adjusted them because this was even more poorly written before than it is now, and I added the Nelson, Murdock & Page Season 3 narrative again because that's now the running theme of this event. Anyway, if you choose to consume edibles, stay safe! (Also, I'm just copying and pasting my usual tag lists. if anyone wants to be added for this event, do let me know)
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“We just got cookies from Ms. Lebowsky next door,” Karen announces happily when she enters the office, balancing the transparent Tupperware in one hand and her handbag in the other. 
“She told me to thank you for helping her get out of that hellhole,” she says. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as a mischievous grin takes over her face. “There’s plenty for all four of us. Although she did mention Matt a few more times.”
“Ms. Lebowsky?” Foggy asks. He stands in the doorway of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee. “Isn’t she the elderly lady we helped last week?”
“Yeah, that’s her. I think she has a crush on Matt.” 
He rolls his eyes. “Of course, she does. Who doesn’t? Not that I do, but—well, you get the gist.” The blood rushes to his cheeks, and Karen giggles in response.
From the office on the left, Matt’s voice rings out, “We just did our jobs,” he says. “She made us cookies, dude!” Foggy inspects the box on Karen’s desk. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. Our favorite. See what good looks can buy you?”
Matt chuckles, his fingers tracing the Braille indentations in the documents that are starting to form a mountain before him. “I think we got them because we’re good lawyers, Foggy.”
“Yeah, right. No way! That woman was smitten the second she came in. I really gotta get that blind thing going. I mean, she’s way too old for you, but come on! You’re in a serious committed relationship, and women still come piling at your door. It’s not fair.”
The way he whines like a little kid who has just been denied his favorite candy makes Karen laugh at his antics, and even Matt can’t help but join in. No matter how stressed he is, and how badly he wants to focus, Foggy never fails to lighten the mood.
Ever since moving offices, things have been going well for the trio. 
When Matt met you, he was at his lowest. You helped him climb out of a dark hole that was threatening to swallow him whole after losing Elektra and almost losing everything he worked so hard for to Wilson Fisk. Thanks to you, he found the will to fight again. You brought him back to life.
He wanted to die. He hated himself for the longest time after the building collapsed and forever took the first woman he ever loved down with its ruins, but then you came into his life, and you didn’t care about his baggage. You were far too good for him, but that didn’t matter to you. 
He fell for you hard and fast, and maybe the timing was a little off because what he needed was therapy and not someone new to get attached to. Still, if you hadn’t pulled him back to his feet and encouraged him to fight back against Fisk, saving his friendship with the people he cares most about in the process, he would have never made it far enough to get therapy.
Matt trusts you with his life because he feels like he owes it to you, but he also loves you more than anything. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. You’re his soulmate, and he couldn’t be happier.
Nelson & Murdock added Karen to their permanent repertoire. With her, things are flowing much more smoothly, and they’re actually making money now. They’re expensive, as Foggy likes to say it. Matt’s friends are just as happy as he is, giving him hope for the future.
“Hey,” Foggy snaps him out of his trance, “Earth to Murdock.”
Matt blinks behind his glasses, his fingers halting their frantic movements along the paper. “While I don’t disagree with what you’re saying,” he says, “please don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that women are piling at my door.”
Karen snorts. “Trust me, Matt. She knows,” she says.
“Yeah, but you shouldn’t remind her of that.”
“My lips are sealed. Foggy?”
He sighs, once again dramatically. “As long as you don’t sleep with them, you have nothing to fear, my friend.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Matt. “The one I’m sleeping with is incomparable.”
Foggy grimaces. “Oh, dude. Gross! You know, God made conscious thought as a mechanism for humans to know when to shut up.”
“To be fair, ninety percent of the population don’t know how to use that mechanism,” Karen jumps to Matt’s defense.
As he laughs, he takes a whiff of the air surrounding their new baked goods. Matt can smell the sweet chocolate of the cookies, and somewhat of a herbal essence, but he can’t quite pinpoint why the scent seems so familiar. 
Karen walks around her desk to drop her bag and her coat. “So, do guys want a cookie?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.
“I’ll take one,” Foggy is quick to answer.
Matt nods from his desk. “I’ll try one, too.”
The innocent decision to indulge in a sweet treat soon comes back to bite them in the ass though. Heavily.
When Matt first bit into the cookie, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. It tasted like chocolate mixed with basil, sugar, honey, and the kind of flour Ms. Lebowsky used, but he didn’t find much else wrong with it. Perhaps if he hadn’t allowed himself to get distracted by his phone calling out your name and the sweetest text he could have possibly received this early in the morning from the love of his life, he would have noticed that something tasted off about these cookies. And that what he believed to have been basil as a secret ingredient was something else entirely.
When lunchtime finally rolls around, you drop everything you were doing before and make your way to Matt’s office. You always spend lunch together. It’s your favorite time of the day. For an hour, you can forget the stress of your workplace and focus on him. He’s your safe haven. Your home. You crave to memorize his features anew every day so that you will have something to carry around with you when he has to work a bit longer, or when he goes out at night and his Daredevil duties drag on beyond what he planned. 
You need to be with him as much as possible because you’re scared that your happiness will shatter on a white cloth, and you will be forced to move on—you can’t imagine losing him. You dedicated your life to loving him, and the thought of ever losing that privilege kills you. 
On your way out, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You smile, thinking that it’s Matt, but when Karen’s number pops up on your screen, you frown. 
‘We have a problem,’ she texted you. Without context. 
All the alarms in your head start blaring, and you start to walk a little faster. You start imagining all possible scenarios. When you ask Karen what’s going on, she doesn’t even reply. What if someone got hurt? What if something happened to Matt? You almost lost him once; you can’t go through that again. 
You burst into the new office space that your friends share a few minutes later, your chest heaving and sweat dripping down your pulsating temples. You’re ready to fight whoever dared to hurt the man you love, or possibly threaten your friends, or both, but when you look up and see your darling boyfriend with his cheek pressed against one of the leaves on their gigantic office plant as if the overgrown Calathea were the coziest pillow he has ever touched, you understand why Karen texted you that you—both you and her—have a problem. A big one, too, judging by the looks of it.
“What is going on here?” you ask the dreaded question, shutting the door behind you.
Only then do you notice Karen to your right in Foggy’s office, trying to get him off of his office chair. He’s belting the chorus of Defying Gravity at the top of his lungs, and he’s got a broom clutched tightly in his right hand.
Oh boy. Your wide eyes drift to Karen’s desk in the middle of the room. As soon as you see the chocolate cookies inside the Tupperware, it slowly begins to dawn on you.
You’re not sure which is worse: Matt cradling a houseplant with his glasses discarded and the first three buttons of his dress shirt undone as he’s coated in sweat, or Foggy singing one of Broadway’s greatest ballads so off-key that the Calathea is starting to wither.
It takes Matt much longer than usual to sense your presence in the room. He calls your name, and his lips curl into a bright grin. Even completely out of it, he looks like an angel on earth. 
“Matthew,” you say. You approach him like you would approach a little kid. He’s on his knees, so the analogy isn’t far off. 
“Hi, honey. What’s going on?”
“Sweetheart,” he greets you, and you have never heard this man sound so relaxed. His hazel eyes are red-rimmed and glazed over, but the most obvious change lies in his behavior. 
“Feel that.” He reaches for your hand when you’re close enough for him to smell you, but he misses. “Where are you?” Matt pouts. “I can’t see.”
You want to laugh, but this is not the time. “You are blind, baby,” you remind him. 
“Since when?”
“Over twenty years.”
“Oh.” He finally gets a hold of your hand. The conversation seems to go right over his head. “Feel the power of nature,” he tells you. “It’s so soft.”
You want to drag him away from the potentially dangerous plant if he decides to eat it, but the sight of him is one to behold. He looks downright adorable. 
You have to focus though. You gently pat his hand. “Maybe later,” you say, and then you make your way to Karen’s desk to inspect the cookies.
Behind you, she calls your name. You twirl around. From the looks of it, she managed to get Foggy down from his chair, but he remains singing at the top of his lungs. All the signs point to one thing, and one thing only.
“Did you give my boyfriend weed cookies?” you sound a lot more condescending than you planned to. 
Karen shakes her head. Her face is pale, and she looks just as panicked as you do. “Those are not mine,” she says. 
“But you knew they were edibles?!”
“Of course, I didn’t! I started questioning it when Matt started cuddling the plant because his Braille felt like boobs and he didn't want to cheat on you, so he decided that he needed to touch some grass.” She points to him, exasperated. As if on cue, Matt lets out a happy little sigh.
Your brain struggles to process all of the information at once. “I’m sorry, what?”
“He said that his Braille feels like boobs. I don’t know! I thought he was messing with me until Foggy turned into Elphaba, and that’s when I took a bite and realized there was weed in them,” she says.
You groan, your worried eyes momentarily flicking back to your high boyfriend. High. That’s not a word you thought you would ever associate with him. “How did this happen?” you ask.
“Ms. Lebowsky, the lady next door, we helped her out the other day, and this morning, she gave me these cookies. I called her when these two started acting like idiots—more than usual, anyway. Turns out, she confused them with the ones her niece made for her birthday party tomorrow.”
“Her niece made edibles for her birthday party?”
“Please, don’t ask. I don’t have all the details. I just–”
“It’s fine,” you cut her off. “Just tell me that you’ve got Foggy under control.”
Karen peeks in through the window to his office. “More or less, yeah. You’ve got Matt?”
“Yeah, I’ve got him.”
You have to take care of him. He’s your responsibility. But as calm as he is right now, his heightened senses make the situation a lot more complex than the mere accidental consumption of edibles.
Walking over to him, you try to haul him up. He protests, at first, but then he feels the fabric of your shirt, and he slacks.
Matt wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “You’re so soft,” he coos. “You smell like honey.”
With his entire weight on you, you have to widen your stance so you won’t fall over. His usually quick reflexes are nonexistent right now; he won’t be able to catch you if you trip, and then you’re both going to get hurt.
“You know what’s even softer?” you ask.
“The plant,” he answers confidently. He sounds like a more careless version of himself. You can’t deny that it does something to you.
“No, silly,” you chuckle softly, “I meant your bed.”
“Oh. But I’m not tired.”
“You’re high.”
He pouts. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.” You stroke his back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”
He stiffens and relaxes at the same time. You swear you can feel the electricity in his veins as his nerves respond to the feeling of your skin on his. It’s like he’s on fire. Like your touch feels a million times more intense, and he’s being crushed under the weight of it in a way that makes him crave more. 
He squeezes you tighter, trying to get swallowed by you, consumed to the point that you are the same person. The drugs are doing a number on him, and his already heightened sense of feeling has increased tenfold to the point you’re not sure if it’s pleasurable or painful or both. It must be agonizing, yet at the same time there is a high chance that the weed is calming his nerves and dampening his perception to the point he’s taking everything in without the added weight—he’s enjoying the newfound sensations in limbo, and he’s unaffected by it. You wonder how long that is going to last. 
After bidding farewell to Karen, wishing her good luck with Foggy who has now reached a point of his high where he’s lying on the floor, demanding to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody and cry over Freddie Mercury. She assures you that she has got it under control, apologizes again, and then sends you on your way.
“Bye, Karen,” Matt says. “You have very nice hair.” His hand tangles in yours, and his face lights up like a Christmas Tree. You managed to convince him to put his glasses on, at least, or he might get irritated. “Never mind,” his voice turns into a pur. 
Usually, you would shiver at his fingers in your hair, tracing the strands and sensually massaging your scalp only he knows how to, but today is not one of those days. You’re still concerned about the effects that the weed might have on him, so you want to be careful, although you’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from laughing. 
As you maneuver Matt through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his cane hovers above the ground and his arm is hooked around yours. Without you, he would have run off into traffic by now. He has absolutely no spatial awareness anymore. 
Every sound, scent, and texture seems to capture his attention, but there's one sensation in particular that he can't seem to shake: thirst. You’re not even home yet, and you had to stop by a convenience store to get him a bottle of water. He shed his coat, which you are now carrying for him while also guiding him while simultaneously trying not to attract any unwanted attention. 
You can’t help but look at him as though he is your whole world. He is. He is everything to you, even high on edibles he never meant to consume, and acting like a feral toddler. If anything, you are even prouder now that he is yours. 
“Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to you, “do you think fire hydrants taste like licorice?”
You shake your head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Matt, don’t lick the fire hydrant.” 
He pouts. For a moment, you think that you have steered off any possible disaster, but that was only wishful thinking.
Matt’s curiosity knows no bounds, and he’s soon reaching out to touch anything that catches his eye. He runs his fingers along the rough brick foundation of a building, marveling at the texture, and he stops to sniff a flower, declaring, “This is the most beautiful flower I have ever smelled.”
You pluck it for him, and he carries it in the pocket of his coat with a happy smile. 
You’re both exhausted when you finally make it to his apartment. Getting his large frame through the door is one thing, stopping him from tearing the tap off the sink as he desperately searches for liquid with the words, “Water!” is another.
“Okay, okay,” you try to calm him. You grab a bottle from the fridge, open it for him, and force him to take it. “Drink.”
One touch is enough for him to drop it. “It’s cold,” he recoils in agony.
You sigh. “Tap water it is, then.”
You have never seen him down so many glasses of water. He is severely dehydrated and sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s either too hot or too cold, and you’re so glad that Karen texted you when she did.
You manage to get him to the couch with some snacks that he devours within seconds. If he moves one more inch today, you may not be able to catch him again.
His lip twitches. “Chickens don’t have any arms.”
You pause in the process of wrapping him in a blanket, staring blankly ahead at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.
“Chickens don’t have any arms,” Matt states. “Every American citizen has the right to bear arms under the second amendment in the constitution. If an egg was fertilized on US soil, and the chicken hatched there as well, technically, that makes them a citizen of the United States of America, therefore allowing tiny creatures without arms the right to bear arms, but who gives the bears their arms?” 
You’re so flabbergasted that the absurdity of the situation eludes you. The words process only slowly in your mind, and when they do, they cause a wave of confusion to wash over you before it turns into genuine amusement, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from laughing at him.
You can pinpoint the exact second the thought escapes his mind and something else replaces it. His hand brushes over the leather couch. “Smooth,” he observes. You haven’t even fully processed his very philosophical question about the animal kingdom before he drops his cheek down on the couch.
The man who has been carrying the weight of the world in bricks on his back for years is finally relaxed; it shouldn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.
You kneel in front of him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Do you need anything?” you ask.
Matt’s gaze is filled with an odd sort of clarity. “Nah. Just you,” he mumbles.
A soft smile tugs at your lips as you brush a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here," you reassure him. 
He nods, his eyelids drooping as the effects of the edibles start to take their toll. “Good.” He searches for your hand, and you help him intertwine your fingers. A giddy smile finds its way onto his face. “You’re warm.”
You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you’re high,” you tease.
Matt huffs out a breathy laugh. “Mmh, yeah,” he says. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause you’re here.”
Despite the chaos and the unexpected turn of events, there’s a sense of contentment settling over you as you watch him drift off into a state of bliss. He deserves it more than anyone. 
You stay by his side, watching over him as he succumbs to the pull of sleep that you’re all too familiar with after a sudden high. 
“Note to self,” you say to yourself, “never eat a stranger’s cookies without drug testing them first.”
And love has funny ways of making even the most absurd moments feel strangely beautiful.
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Matt Murdock Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan
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storywriter007 · 5 months
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(Part 1) Part 2 - You Used to Avoid Me Too (Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader, Leo Valdez x Fem!Reader)
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summary: in which y/n finds clarity in her time away from percy.
warnings: cursing, inappropriate humor, mention of the dead, toxic relationship, etc
genre: sadness turned into happiness ig???
word count: 912
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y/n walked out of percy's cabin, not exactly sure what she was feeling. she was sad, but she was angry, but was she finally in a state of clarity? who knew? she looked around a couple of times, hoping no one heard the ruckus that had just occurred. tears fell from her eyes. she saw a shadowy figure stare at her for a brief minute before it disappeared.
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"y/n! it's time for breakfast!" one of her cabinmates yelled.
"coming!" y/n yelled back, hoping that the cold water had washed away the redness in her eyes.
she began walking to the pavilion, but felt a strong urge to turn around when she saw him.
him with the dark hair and bright eyes walking happily to breakfast as if he hadn't destroyed whatever hope she had in him the night before.
y/n grabbed her breakfast and began walking down to her table, unfortunately having to pass percy on her way there.
"i heard so much noise from percy's cabin yesterday." one kid said.
"my boy got it on last night!" the other kid exclaimed, the table bursting out in laughter.
perfect timing y/n thought as she walked by, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. she took the apple and walked out of the pavilion and to the lake.
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you're not annabeth. you're not her.
those six words replayed in y/n's mind as tears began to fall from her eyes. why would someone even say such a thing?
she felt someone come sit beside her. not wanting to show her tear stained face, she quickly wiped her cheeks and put on a smile.
"i like your smile." the person said.
y/n turned to see leo. a wave of shock passed through her body, but she didn't show it.
"thank you." she smiled.
"but it doesn't hide your tomato eyes." he laughed.
y/n chuckled too.
"what're you doing out here?" he asked.
"just sitting. looking at the view." she responded.
"with a side of crying?"
"maybe."
"i heard you guys last night."
oh great y/n thought.
"we did not 'get it on-'" she started.
"i know. you guys were fighting. pretty badly, i'll add. i heard the glass and the yelling. i saw-"
y/n thought back to yesterday night and remembered there was some shadow walking around.
"you saw me." she sighed. "fuck."
"ing? i thought that's what didn't happen." he laughed.
"haha, very funny." she rolled her eyes.
"i heard the things he said." he started. "i don't think he's right."
"but isn't he? i wasn't what he was looking for and i was stupid enough to think i was."
"you can't change yourself to be what he misses. your job isn't to be the past, it's to be the present and the future."
"i don't even know. i'm so upset. he didn't even love me in the first place and for some reason, i feel like that's so much worse than falling out of love with me. i would've known he cared at one point. but now, i know he never ever did." she chuckled. it made more sense aloud. "and, i hope this doesn't sound mean, but why do you care? you used to avoid me too."
"yeah i did, but that didn't mean i wanted to." he answered.
"explain?"
"percy's my bro, so first, i just stayed away because he wanted me to. i never knew the real reason until he started saying a bunch of weird shit."
"like what?"
"stupid shit. like, 'y/n's hair is different' or 'y/n got a question wrong in math.' it was like he was subtly comparing you to annabeth, while trying to not completely give himself away. i lost respect for him first when he said you were only good during the nighttime, if you know what i mean. i think i lost a more respect for him when he said, and i quote, 'do you guys ever pretend someone is someone else? but then they're not like that person and it gets you pissed off?'"
y/n knew her tears were falling down her face again.
"then i was like, fuck this, i need to ask if y/n's alright. if he's saying all this, you must've been like a victim."
"mhm." she nodded. "i don't even know what i did wrong."
y/n buried her face into her hands as breathing became difficult.
"wait, hey-don't cry!" he panicked. "i mean, percy's stupid anyways. well i know i'm stupid, but he's like really stupid-" he started, trying to wipe away y/n's tears with his hands. "you didn't hear this from me, but he's obsessed with someone who's six feet under, maybe seven, she was kinda tall. it's like necrophilic at this point-"
y/n chuckled at that.
"if anything, he can take the gravestone and shove it up his ass." he smiled.
y/n gave him a weak smile as her tears slowly reduced.
"i'll see you around camp." leo said, getting up and reaching a hand out for her.
she took it, getting up.
"see you around leo." she smiled.
as they both went their seperate ways, y/n just couldn't stop smiling. she looked around as she walked back to the main area of the camp. she saw percy, sword fighting with jason. as she walked by, she locked eyes with percy.
"y/n!" he yelled "can we talk? please?"
"i would love to but i think you've got a gravestone shoved up your ass!" she yelled back.
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pt 2 because you guys requested ittt. it just hurts to make leo the bad guy so we cleared his name up <3
hope you guys like it lowkey gonna write more angst now
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