#200 celebration | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rancidpancakebatter · 1 year

Note

🎥 For Matt Murdock, said by the reader (because we all know Matt could sense these kind of things...and that he can't see lmao), "When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew."

You Knew - [M.M.]

Pairings: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader

Summary: You grew up with Matthew, but how long have you loved him?

Word Count: 2.3k words

Content: Very brief allusion to sex at the end

( Masterlist )

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long but here you go. I hope you like it :))

I am slowly making my way through my asks, so I thank you all for your patience

Thinking back, you don’t think you’ve ever been happier. You were currently sitting on the couch, reading a book. Your legs were stretched out under a soft throw across Matt’s lap, while he was going over some case files.

He brought some tea to his lips and his other hand continued to run across the page. The afternoon sun washed him in a beautiful amber hue. You wish to cradle his face the same way the sunbeams did.

“What?” You blinked a few times before you realised Matt had said something. “You’re staring.”

You chuckled, knowing he wasn’t upset, merely teasing you. “It’s nothing.”

Matt only hummed and you went back to your reading. Well, you tried, but as you stared at the words, your mind drifted.

Saint Agnes was the only home you knew. You never knew your parents, only the sisters who raised you. The story of the child hero who lost his eyesight saving someone’s life was one all the children knew. Hell’s Kitchen didn’t get much good attention, so this kid was kind of like a symbol to you all.

You remember when Matt first arrived. He was quiet and kept to himself. Many of the other kids would whisper about him when he would pass and you knew he could hear it. Some of the boys complained about his nightmares, said he was possessed. You refused to believe that.

One day on the playground, Matthew got corned by two boys. One took his cane and when Matt pushed at them the other slapped him, his glasses flying off. You ran up to one of them and turned them around.

“What is your problem? Are you brain-dead? Is that it? What? Did you find out that even blind he’s at a higher reading level than you?” One of the benefits of growing up here: you knew everyone’s buttons and how to press them effectively. Bradley was practically a neanderthal. He was insecure about his intelligence and used brute force to get his way.

He turned on you but before he could even raise his fist Matt swung, knocking him off kilter. By then, enough shouting had happened to alert one of the sisters to the commotion and you were all escorted to Sister Mary’s office.

After that, you and Matt were thick as thieves. You were always getting into trouble. Kids could be brutal and you watched each other’s backs. You were more quick-witted while Matt was a better fighter. Together you made an unstoppable team.

But you both grew up. Matt left for college and you lost touch. You always wondered what had happened to him. You stayed close to home, you continued to do volunteer work at Saint Agnes. That’s where you met him again. You were delivering some donations from a clothing drive when you noticed Maggie slinking around.

Old habits die hard. You felt like a kid again as you followed her through the halls, speculating about where she was going. She was looking over her shoulder a lot, so it must have been something big. You wondered what the sacred sister was up to.

You heard her scold some children before they ran into the hallway. You caught them in the hall and asked them what was in the room.

“Some guy. We thought he was dead but then he woke up.”

“Yeah, he looks terrible.”

They took off when they heard other footsteps in the corridor. You hid behind a corner as another sister moved down the stairs.

Your feet carried you to the door, listening from just outside.

“I need to change your gauze,” You heard Sister Maggie say, “Preferably without you flailing around like an idiot.”

You heard clinking and a zipper. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this. You were always pissed off. Of course, back then, you were just a boy who lost your eyesight.”

Your mind started spinning. A blind guy, hidden away in the orphanage? You knew it could be anyone but you couldn’t stop thinking it was him. It was obviously someone Sister Maggie knew. The description fit your old friend too well for it to be a coincidence.

You had seen in the paper that Matthew was a lawyer now, responsible for taking down Wilson Fisk. It seems over the years his wit had become more scathing. You were proud of his sharp tongue.

You enter the doorway, your curiosity getting the best of you. Your steps were quiet and both of them seemed too wrapped in their conversation to notice you. You looked over the body, though you couldn’t see the face.

“Congratulations. You finally caught me.” You knew that voice, you had heard it on the news. You stepped closer and his battered face was more than enough proof.

“Matthew?!”

You helped him recover in the church basement. You caught up on life and all that he had been up to. You listened to his self-pity monologues and his declarations against god. You were much more sympathetic to his righteous anger than Maggie was. You helped him set up his punching bag and kept him company. You even got to meet Karen, though the circumstances they were under were quite frightening and deadly.

Since Matt’s recovery and the revival of the Daredevil, you and Matt became a lot closer. You fell back into your old ways. You felt comfortable with him, like falling into a distant memory. You didn’t realise just how much you had missed him.

He introduced you to Foggy (and reintroduced you to Karen in a much safer and calm environment) and you were glad they were in his life. He seemed happy around them, less rageful than you remembered him.

Matt leaned on you a lot as he slowly brought himself back to life. You helped him clean his apartment, find a good Devil-to-Matt ratio, and process the betrayal he felt from Margaret’s actions.

Now you were dating Matt. You don’t really remember how it happened. One day you were friends and then the next you were sharing sweet kisses and holding each other as you slept. It was the most natural progression you had ever experienced.

You’ve never been happier. Matt was kind and sweet. He doted on you and made you feel special every day. Even in mundane moments like these, where he had to bring work home, he was still spending time with you.

As he was reading he was rubbing your leg over the blanket. He looked almost holy in the evening sun. Matt seemed so relaxed lately, it was a look you enjoyed on him. For most of your time knowing Matt, he was full of rage. But now, he seemed so warm. He was just so amazing.

In this moment you realised something. “I love you.”

Matt’s hand stopped on the page for just a moment, “I love you too.”

He said it so nonchalantly. As if he had told you this a million times, not like he was saying this to you for the first time. You sat up, shocked by his response. When you pulled your legs away from him he sat up straighter, a look of confusion on his face.

“What?” He asked you for a second time today.

You blinked at him dumbly as your mouth gaped like a fish. “Wh- eh- You…you love me?”

Matt's confusion melted into a blinding smile. “Yes. And you love me; have for a while now.”

He had to bite back laughter as you continued to gape at him. “But I’ve never said that before. How did you know?”

Matt grabbed your hand, “I’ve known since I met you.”

“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” Matt did laugh at that.

“No, but you did.” You smacked his arm as he continued to laugh.

You think back to the first day you met. It was after the fight. You sat outside the office on a bench with Matt waiting for your turn for questioning. He was a mystery to you. He was normally quiet, keeping to himself. You were the same in that regard.

You preferred to stay in the background and learn from your environment. It had done you well. You wondered why Matthew had chosen to live in the background. You felt yourself worrying for him, closely eyeing his cheek where you saw a welt slowly growing.

You had to admit he was pretty. His features were soft despite the permanent scowl on his face. His hair was kinda shaggy and you thought his sunglasses were cool. You mentally traced the silhouette of his face.

Mathew was older than you by two years. He was a “big kid” and you wondered if he found you annoying. Many of the children here did. You played around with the idea of him becoming your friend. You weren’t sure what that would look like but you wanted that.

You felt your stomach twist when you thought about how he had fought for you. It wasn’t a particularly unpleasant feeling, but a new one. Something about this boy was magical. You wanted to learn everything about him: his favourite colour, his favourite book, his favourite toy. Maybe he didn’t play with toys at all. He was nine after all. You wondered what he did for fun, if not playing with toys.

Matt tilted his head and you wondered what he was thinking. You knew that was his confused/thinking face. A small smirk spread across his face before he turned to you. You held your breath, hoping he couldn’t feel you staring at him. You stayed that way for a while before he turned his head back to the wall, chuckling.

It hit you then. He was right.

“You smiled…” Matt’s laughter was calming down.

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t believe this man.

“On that stupid bench…when I saw you I fell in love,” You laughed in disbelief. “And you smiled because you knew."

On his face was a similar smirk. Little Matty wasn’t as far in the past as Matt pretended he was. You couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at the man in front of you. Not when your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest. Trying to escape the confines of your ribs and land in the hands of the man you loved. The man you loved. The man you have loved since you were seven years old.

You brought your hands to his face and crumpled as you felt him melt into them. “You smug bastard.”

Matt chuckled, his unfocused gaze on you. “A smug bastard that you love.”

You chuckled as you brought your lips to his. It was soft, sweet. It was everything you needed. Matt’s hands rested on the side of your ribcage, his smile ever-present. You leaned back, breaking off the kiss but not going far.

“I love you, Matty.” You felt his hands fall to your hips.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He closed the space between you and this kiss was a bit deeper. You felt like you were on cloud nine. It all felt so surreal. Suddenly a thought crossed your mind and you pulled away. You laughed when Matt whined, chasing after you.

“Wait, I’ve loved you since we were kids. How long have you loved me?” A faint blush decorated Matt’s cheeks. He pretended to think about it and you smiled at his antics.

“Let’s see…I knew I loved you when you were sending me off for college. I remember you were trying your best not to cry. And you wouldn’t let me hug you until I was getting in the taxi because you said you wouldn’t let me go otherwise.” He chuckled at the memory and you felt tears pooling in your eyes.

“When we did hug goodbye, I found it much harder to let you go than I anticipated. It took all of my resolve to do so, and I released it was because I did love you.” Matt pulled you into his lap and you moved your hands from his face to wrap them around his neck.

“I don’t remember when I fell for you. Probably when we were teenagers. I don’t know for sure, though. I do know,” He said as he moved your hair out of your face before resting his hand in its place.

“That I have loved you for a long time. I don’t think I ever stopped. I know that I never will.” He swiped his thumb under your cheek, collecting a tear that had escaped.

“Alight, alright,” You said through a sniffle. “You win.”

He laughed, his smile creating wrinkle lines across his face. “Of course I do. I get to kiss you, hold you, and love you. Every day that I wake up in your arms, I am winning.”

You roll your eyes at him and call him a sap. “It may be sappy, but it’s true nonetheless, my love.”

You are absolutely positive he could sense how your body responded to the nickname. Nothing got past him. Not the way your breath caught in your throat. Not the way your heart beats harder. And certainly not the way your body temperature rises.

You felt his other hands trace circles on the skin of your hip. You weren’t sure when he had weaselled his hand under your shirt but you couldn’t be bothered with that. “You’re too cute…my love.”

“Matty…” It was a plea. You burned for him. You thirsted for him and knew he was the only thing that could satiate you.

“Yes, my love?” He teased.

He knew what he was doing. He was making you putty in his hands. You leaned forward and kissed him with hunger, with passion. It was words you didn’t know to say. It was feelings you couldn’t express. It was an encrypted message that you hoped he could decode.

He received the message loud and clear. “I say we take this into the bedroom and I can show you just how much I love you. How does that sound my love?”

Before you could even respond he was picking you up and carrying you across the room, your giggles floating through the air.

Tag List: @heejinw0rld, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz,

314 notes · View notes

wandawiccan60 · 1 year

Text

✨🙌🏼CELEBRATING 202 FOLLOWERS!!!✨🙌🏼

Thank you every single one of you guys for being supportive, for following, and for everyone who has been reading my stories, Drabbles & One-Shots. I appreciate every single one of you guys knowing that this helps me keep going to make more unique stories for everyone to read. I can’t help but feel happy to be able to be apart of this journey of doing these stories but I can’t wait for writing more stories for everyone to read.

Again thank you guys so so much and as always good morning, afternoon, or good evening wherever you are in the world. And catch you in the next one. See Ya!!!

✨🎉🥳🎈🎊🤎🙌🏼✨

17 notes · View notes

im-a-simp-for-kuroo · 2 years

Photo

~𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍~

𝐚 𝟐𝟓𝟎 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭~~

i just wanted to say thank you so much for helping me reach 200 follower! writing brings me so much joy and i'm so glad to be able to share it with ya'll! it really means a lot to me that people enjoy my terrible and nerdy writing and everytime someone comments or reblogs it practically makes my week. thus, without further ado, let’s get into it~

HEADS UP~ anyone can submit! however, please be mindful and refrain from submitting more than one ask. you may ask anonymously if you'd like, but please label it with an emoji or symbol so i can recognize you

𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 [0/20] -choose a 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 (for ex. enemies to lover, coffee shop au, best friends older brother) -pick a 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 (attack on titan, haikyuu, mha) -tell me about 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 (personality, physical attributes, likes/dislikes, guide here) -pick a 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 listed below

❄ It was always you. ❄ Can you hold my hand? ❄ Your tie’s a bit crooked. ❄ Every time you do that, I wanna kiss you. ❄ You’re really something else. ❄ Is this a game to you? ❄ I see the way you look at her. Go to her. ❄ Marry me. ❄ You were just an experiment. ❄ I promised, didn’t I? ❄ It’s eating me up. ❄ Don’t touch me. ❄ Don’t ever say you love me. ❄ Are you drunk? ❄ I’m a monster. ❄ Please, hear me out. ❄ There is no us. There never was. ❄ I wish I was sorry. ❄ Don’t die on me. Not after everything we had. ❄ All these years and you decide to break my heart now?

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄~ a match-up and a short drabble (less than 350 words) with the prompt featured. you may request a moodboard if you would like (3 imgs max)!

please be patient and i'll happily write up all your asks!

#200 celebration #followers #celebration #OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE IT #mha x reader #haikyuu x reader #attack on titan x reader

5 notes · View notes

mrsfoyet · 2 months

Text

A while ago, i did some polls to decide how i should celebrate reaching 200 followers. The result was a Hotch x reader smut story!

If you have any ideas or prompts for me to write, please send them to me and i will do my best to write a little scene as soon as possible! 🫶🌸

#200 followers #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #200 celebration

1 note · View note

lovelettersforthedamned · 4 months

Note

Request for smut 6 & 9 I got this idea from a movie heheh where you’re texting peter at your family dinner and it’s dirty texts and he’s like 😳 then meet each other in the bathroom and fuck with you sitting on the counter but cover Peter’s mouth because he moans loud naturally

Really Quick

--genre: fluff & smut

--pairing: tasm!peter parker x afab!reader

--word count: 0.9k

--warnings: bathroom quickie, PinV, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, mirror sex(ish), this is so silly and so hot.

--gif credits: @onscreenkisses

Conversation elevated the dining room’s atmosphere, and yet all you could focus on was Peter and the phone in your lap.

petey<3: i need you, bug. so so bad.

You look up at your boyfriend who is sitting directly across from you, a stupid smirk on his face. Your hands have suddenly started to become clammy, as you look back down at your phone to make sure you’re not misreading his text.

You know Peter has been pretty worked up this week. Work has been keeping him at the office late, which meant less time seeing each other. Peter’s a moody man to say the least, especially when it comes to you. If he doesn’t see you for at least an hour every day, grumpy. If you two don’t spend dinner together, grumpy. Some people would call this clingy and annoying, and if you weren’t utterly obsessed with your boyfriend, you would say the same. But he makes it so hard to be mad at him, until now.

Looking back up at his face, your eyes cut into his, you’re shocked. He brings his water glass up to his mouth, taking a long sip as he doesn’t break eye contact. He loves this.

you: don’t give me that look.

petey<3: i have no idea what you’re talking about baby.

You’ve had enough, “I’m gonna head to the bathroom really quick, excuse me.” Standing and walking away from the table, you shoot a quick glance at Peter, an unspoken request for him to follow you.

He takes a deep breath as he takes another sip of water, clearing his throat before he speaks, “Oh shit…I’ve got to take this call, I’ll be right back.” Your family barely noticed, too involved in separate conversations to actually pay attention to the two of you.

Peter walked through the home and finally found the bathroom, light seeping through the crack at the bottom of the door. He knocks twice before you open the door and quickly pull him into the cramped space.

You waste no time as you plant your lips onto his, the kiss messy and uncoordinated. Pulling away from his kiss, you're the first to speak, “You think it’s funny to tease me like that in front of everyone?” He doesn’t respond right away, too flustered to even comprehend what you just asked him. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Peter.”

You knew you had to make this quick as you strip only the bottom half of your clothing and pull your panties to the side. Peter lets his pants and boxers fall to the floor as they pool at his feet. Grabbing under your thighs, Peter lifts you onto the bathroom counter, the cool tile giving you goosebumps.

Looking up into his eyes, you grab Peter’s cock and line him up with your entrance before he thrusts into you, your back arching off of the mirror behind you. A breathy sigh escapes your mouth. For as long as you’ve known Peter, you still have never gotten used to his length. The tip of his cock always hits that special spot inside of you leaving you craving for more.

Peter starts to pick up the pace, a sudden urgency plaguing his mind as he comes to realize the situation the two of you are in. The moment he starts to move, you clench around him, the feeling of him inside of you bringing a smile to your face. Peter stares out in front of him and takes in the sight, the mirror perfectly reflecting the way his cock disappears in you, a loud pornographic moan leaving his lips. The sound makes your eyes snap open and clasp a hand around his mouth, “You know I love how you sound, but please Pete, be quiet.”

He nods against your hand as his pace speeds up. You’re getting close. Squeezing his arm next to you, you squeeze your eyes tight as you cum around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…baby, oh my god,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

You two are making a mess, especially when Peter cums inside of you. Your pussy filled with him, some of it spilling out of you and falling onto the counter. Even though he came, Peter is still pumping into you, the pace slowing but still strong.

Letting go of his mouth and arm, you reach around to his back, clawing at the skin. He’s making you feel too good right now, “P–Peter, fuck, wait I’m gonna cum again.”

“C’mon bug, cum on my cock again. Let me feel you around me,” he’s panting in your ear, his breath fanning over the side of your neck.

The second time you came, it was Peter who had to cover your mouth, the pleasure becoming too much. You’re coming down from your high, and the world around you is a blinding white, but all you hear is Peter talking you through it, “That’s it, baby, you did so well. Take a breath, my love.”

Opening your eyes, you see him looking down at you as he pushes some hair that has fallen into your face away and behind your ear. You can’t even speak, your mind is still a little foggy. Peter starts to plant kisses across your cheeks, forehead, and nose before he breaks the silence, “I’ll head out first, don’t follow too close behind.”

You laugh, “You don’t want to announce to my family that you just fucked me in the bathroom?”

“I’m on their good side, I can’t ruin that,” he winks.

--author's note: 200 follower celebration BEGINS!!! WOOOO!!!!!! this is so hot, and i love a good mirror sex quickie. thank you nonnie for this request!!!! ILY!!! please continue to support me and your fav writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging! ok, ily bye<3333

#andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #marvel #peter parker smut #peter parker #fluff #spiderman #LLFTD 200 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

612 notes · View notes

riaki · 5 months

Text

after party | satoru gojo x reader

gojo wanted to help you prepare a friendsgiving dinner, but he's a little tired n a lot tipsy.

cw: non curse au, everyones alive, shoko typical smoking, drinking, you’re married to gojo wc: 3.3k

this was supposed to be short but it just spiraled n i kind of hate it b i technically posted on the 23rd so it counts !! not proofread!

business dinners with satoru are exhausting, to say the least—you start the day early to the scent of coffee through a filter and a fresh breeze through your open window, sending your husband off to work with a hug and a kiss—maybe a promise of more if he pulls the 'five more minutes!' on you.

this one is special, though; old friends from freely youthful highschool days gathered around your dinner table on the mats of your living room floor catching up over cans of beer cold with condensation, the sound of can tabs popping and the fizzling of bubbly spirits over tables of warm food in tin containers.

geto, the tall man with dark hair and gauges, talks about how his two daughters are adjusting to city life, occasionally interrupted by cheerful brightness never dampened by adult years from haibara, an apprenticing entrepeneur under nanami who's got a thing for girls with big appetites. shoko and utahime are having a drinking contest, and mei mei's too occupied with her phone; checking stocks as her tacky nails click against the glass screen.

satoru can't cook. there's a reason why he always buys takeout when you're too busy to provide or you've already gone to sleep— he should be the picture perfect husband, because you deserve that and everything more. his only (self-perceived) flaws are his lack of alcohol tolerance and his inability to master the frying pan.

you always tell him he doesn't have to be a michelin chef— but with the way he's constantly sneaking a chocolate graham cracker from your muji snack bag or snagging the sour gummy between your teeth from your lips, he feels like he should compensate. so on this special november evening, when the hum of the city life outside your balcony gets drowned out by the cheerful mirth of a warm dinner table, he had decided to help you.

the warm kitchen had become a foodstained disaster— but with tearful round eyes and a hand tugging on your shirt, you'd resigned to helping him conquer the task of simple packaged noodles and soft-boiled eggs. he'd cut his finger— even the most capable teacher found his shortcomings against a blunt kitchen knife. needless to say you'd peppered it with kisses before wrapping a rainbow hello kitty bandaid around it.

and that brings you to the present: the result of your extensively hard work; a few soggy noodles collected at the bottom of porcelain bowls painted red on the insides in a lukewarm puddle of soup, full stomachs and a loose and welcoming atmosphere. you wouldn't trade it for the world.

you're fishing a pickled radish slice out of your bowl when satoru leans over, removing the arm that was snaked around your shoulder to drape himself on your lap, lying down on the floor with his knees propped up and his soft cloud-white hair sprawled over your thighs. geto makes a distasteful face when satoru's black socks brush against his leg. across the table, shoko knocks shoulders with utahime as she lights a cigarette; the latter's face flushes as smoke drifts past her lightly flushed face into the open window city night air overhead.

"hey, you. what's up?" you asked softly, chuckling to yourself as you set your chopsticks atop the rim of your bowl, leaning back on your arms to look down at him. he adjusts himself a little, wiggling on your lap as you caught a whiff of his beer breath and scrunch your nose.

"hiii, baby," he drawls, giggling a little to himself. his smooth, usually playful voice took on that deep tone he used whenever he was being serious, and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, so you hugged him closer and ran a hand through his soft white hair, brushing your fingers against the black cloth of his blindfold. "what'cha doing?"

"i was eating. you put too much pepper in the broth, 'toru." you smiled softly, tracing the line of his jaw slowly with one finger in the way you knew he liked so much; it was obvious from the way he sighed contentedly and tilted his head into your palm. whether it be from that unfathomably sweet smile or the tender way you held his face in your delicate hands, that was up to him to ponder. next to you, haibara makes a joke— something about mei mei's stocks, and she quips a snarky retort that has him laughing raucously while nanami makes a face.

"i tried!" he protests, almost a whine as he sighs; a hand sneaks up to lift the edge of his blindfold up so his eyes meet yours, and you're left breathless. it catches you off guard every time— those endless pools of swirling blue that stare straight through you, sifting through your thoughts like a scholar annotating an open book, all heart-shaped sticky notes and bright highlighters when it came to thinking about him.

"not hard enough, clearly. but it's okay; we'll do better next time."

he just frowns again at that, sticking out his lower lip in a little pout that makes your heart squeeze. your stomach is full with noodles and broth; you don't think you could stomach another bite if you tried, and you're not one to drink especially if everyone else is. so, you let yourself indulge a little— snake a hand on the back of satoru's neck and tilt him up until he's sitting halfway up and you can easily meet his lips in a kiss.

he reciprocates immediately, hungry like he was waiting for you; you notice that he hasn't eaten much of his food yet, so maybe he was. or maybe he knows how bad it is. either way, his tongue darts out from his parted lips to flick against your own for a moment, before he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and draws out a teasing whine that you have to stifle because "we have company, 'toru," you have to breath as a reminder. he just laughs breathily against your lips, tasting like bitter beer and buttery vanilla as he shifts to practically sit on top of you, hands on your shoulders as his thumbs brush over your collarbone where the edge of your shirt fails to cover tantalizing skin; he's taller and eventually ends up bringing the both of you toppling down onto the mats.

your back hits the floor and a little gasp leaves your winded lungs— but satoru eagerly catches it with his lips and swallows it, like he's intent on getting drunken off his ass from you (as if he wasn't already tipsy) when he smashes his swollen lips to yours again. your hair is splayed out against the tatami mats like you're trapped in some marine watercolor painting, and for a split second satoru thinks if mermaids were real you'd be the most angelic he'd ever seen as his calloused fingers curl into the strands.

you're about to hook a leg around his waist when a shout catches your ear and you part lips with a gasp, sucking in greedy breaths as satoru promptly sits on your stomach. you let out a stuffed oomph from his weight, and watch as he slides his blindfold back on to look over at the rest of the table who're staring at the two of you like they're watching some forbidden steamy movie scene that's meant to be shielded from children's eyes.

“don’t kiss him while he’s drunk. it’s like rewarding a brat for bad behavior,” shoko says. you sit up with much effort, straining under satoru’s weight as you reach up to grab his shoulders. you miss, but he takes your hands and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling back down as you rest your head on his shoulder. utahime has her arms lazily draped over shoko; you assume she’s drunk from that, but if you were to inspect her for long enough you’d notice her can of beer was almost completely full.

“oh, i guess you’re right.” you remarked, frowning a little and biting the inside of your cheek as you pull away from satoru and glance at him. all of the sudden he looks like he’s ready to keel over; the shadows beneath his eyes are reinforced by the alcohol in his system and it looks like he’ll need to tape his eyes open lest he passes out right on top of you. you want to avoid that, so you gently push him off, sighing to yourself.

“don’t listen to her, sweetheart. you can kiss me all you want,” he smirks, a flash of pearly white teeth that would’ve been on your neck a moment ago if not for the interruption. you just shake your head with a breathless laugh, giving him a quick flick to the forehead. before you can pull away, though— he catches your hand, bringing your wrist to his glossy pink lips and giving your pulse a quick peck. “no, she has a point.” you hummed. overhead, the light flickers a little; a moth that had flown in through the window danced about the bulb. the faint sound of car horns filters through the window along with the breeze, recycled laughter and lively chatter from bars a few stories down carried in the cool wind.

you mill about for another twenty minutes or so, content to just listen in as old friends shared anecdotes and funny stories from separate paths of life; you soon learned that nanami was planning on moving to malaysia, and shoko was due to renew her medical license this year. the beer cans built up, mixed in with crumpled napkins that had penned doodles on the rough surface and paper chopstick wrappers. somewhere along the line, satoru had fallen asleep— you had to push his unfinished ramen bowl out of the way before he knocked his head against the wooden table and spilt his meal. you frowned a little at the sight of it— you knew he'd complain about his soaked noodles and limp seaweed sheets later on. you found yourself slinging one of your jackets over his shoulders, fingers lingering over his neck, where the scratchy hair of his undercut met soft warm skin.

soon enough, dishes are piling up in the sink and calling your name; the kids see themselves home via train station, spouting something about a late night pit stop in sendai for the mochi that 'our teacher likes so much'. you consider asking them to bring some back for satoru, but you decide you'll enjoy a laugh when he tells you about how he went to school the next morning to find out for himself, and the stab of hurt that will pierce his full heart in two when he hears the news. even then, you have to shush them as they show themselves out; you can tell from the way satoru's eyebrows knit together beneath his blindfold and the pinch of his jaw that he doesn't appreciate the noise, no matter how blacked out.

the conversation dies down a little, and soon enough, everyone takes their leave one by one. it's only when you settle back down after cleaning up the bowls and putting away the cups that satoru stirs, waking up with a mumble and a huff. his hair is a disheveled mess, and there are sleep lines on his face, but he's still handsome as ever.

"baby?" his voice is hoarse with sleep and dehydration. there's a dull ache between his eyes, feeling like he'd just ran a circle around the world. you answer from the kitchen, calling his name. it's late; past midnight now. the window's still open and satoru's can of beer is still on the table, almost completely empty.

"how long did i sleep? shit, did everyone go home? 'm sorry," he groans, standing up and stretching his arms out. his shirt rides up on his shoulders, exposing the arch of his hip just above the edge of his pants. "don't worry, 'toru." you hummed, washing your hands in the sink as you look over at him. he just nods, grabbing the can and crumpling it in his hands before tossing it in the trash.

"you okay? got a headache?" you asked as he walked over to you, careful not to hit his head on the arch that connected the living room to the kitchen. when you'd first moved in with him, you had to pin a strip of bright yellow caution tape to remind him to duck his head. you smiled as you reminisced over late nights, tucked in his arms as he mused about demolishing the wall there just so he could be rid of the bruise on his temple. then again, as long as you were waiting for him to kiss it better at the end of his nine to five, he didn't mind.

he nods, and watches as an easy smile stretches across your lips; they look infuriatingly kissable under the warm glow of the hazy kitchen light, shining off the porcelain cups in the sink. he leans against the kitchen counter, cold marble feeling through the thin fabric of his shirt as you take his leftovers from the fridge and heat them up in the microwave, standing before the black glass as you watch the little plate spin inside.

there's something about moments like these; so sweet and easy with you after everyone's taken the last train home and all that's left are empty beer cans and extra bowls in the dishwasher for two people with matching rings on their fingers to take care of.

he walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chin. he smiles when he feels your hand cup his cheek, and he turns his head instinctively to meet your lips in a slow, sweet kiss; a muscle memory tango between familiar lovers. when he pulls away to catch his breath, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, you're already there with your fingers, pulling his blindfold down to rest around his neck and gently rubbing the spot beside his eyes, alleviating the tension behind them. it's unspoken moments like these that he loves the most in your relationship. making a mess in your kitchen is a close second.

it's a slow, easy night after a special get-together when the microwave beeps and you take his noodles out, bringing them to the table as you sit down next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, letting him tuck you into his side as he gets a bit of breaded tonkotsu crumbs on his cheek and insists you wipe them off for him like he's some oversized baby. you wash some cherries in a green plastic bowl, competing to see who can spit the pits into the trashcan without missing. in the end, he lost the game of rock paper scissor and was resigned to pick up the missed pits on the floor.

he's still wearing your jacket like a cape and even though it's far too small for him, he insists on keeping it with him when you go out onto your balcony to finish the last of a bottle of sake together, listening to the melody of the wind in the trees that line the sidewalk and the permeating hustle and bustle of the city, even when it's so late at night it could be considered early morning.

he swipes the cold bottle from your hands, finishing the last drops from the matte glass before letting it dangle between your fingers. and you're expecting it when he catches your arm to pull you into another kiss; he tastes like peaches and wine and a little bit of soup broth. it's slow, and easy, because being with him has always felt as natural as breathing, and being with you has made it easier for him to breathe, like the iron weight on his lungs melts away in the face of your unconditional warmth and care. the cool wind blows your hair in front of your face, and he laughs that charming boyish giggle as he tucks it behind your ears and scoops you up in his arms.

"i don't like sharing you with a sake bottle," you said, pointedly looking at the glass in his hand. he just grins, looking down at you for a moment. he can almost see it again; you, in that gorgeous white wedding cloth. he was carrying you bridal style in the same way now, when you'd decided to grow old together and host special business dinners as a couple in your shared apartment.

"don't worry, love. you're sweeter than any spritz," he laughs, stepping inside again and closing the door behind him.

it's routine, and it's easy, getting ready for bed with him, laughing when he pushes his hair back with a headband, looking like a pretty little princess. you suggest him getting a mullet, and he shushes you by shoving your toothbrush on your tongue, getting a mouthful of mint. the warm water rushes over your fingers before you dry yourself off, wiping your face and putting the towel away only to be met with the equal warmth of his lips on your forehead, peppering you with kisses.

you slip into the covers, still pleasantly cold as you watch satoru sit up and take his shirt off. he lets you peel the rainbow bandaid on his finger off, tossing it in the trash before pulling you into his arms, right where you belong the closest to his heart. "don't cut yourself like that again, okay?"

"it was an accident, baby." he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes. he reaches over to ruffle your hair affectionately and makes a joke about having you suck his blood like a vampire, tooting about how sweet it would be. "besides, i don't need to be careful if you're there to patch me up, pretty. shoko has nothing on you!"

he plays with your hair as you catch him up to the conversations he'd slept away; mei mei had left early when you'd given him your jacket to envelope him in your scent, muttering something about cheap perfume and worthless soggy noodles. he likes to play with your jewelry, you notice— fiddles with the ring on your finger, cupping your hands in his palm as he tucks his face into the back of your neck.

at one point, he asks you to do his hair, so you oblige, rolling him over onto his stomach and clambering on top of his waist. you braid his white strands into cute little pigtails best as you could manage as he tells you about his dream; something about harassing nanami in malaysia and a sunset kiss under crystal clear beach water. it sounds nice, and when you're done with his hair you find it easier to just massage his shoulders and listen to the smooth droning of his voice.

soon enough, you're both warmer than the lukewarm buzz of beer in your veins, and he doesn't remember if he fell asleep first or not, but the gentle melody of your voice haunts him in his dazed sleep as he curls around you.

business dinners really are exhausting— he's left wondering how you pull it off the morning after when he's hungover and the cut on his finger is infected— clearly, the hello kitty bandaid wasn't enough to cut it. the only reasoning that he explains to you as you take your morning shower together, fingers running through your hair, is that you didn't kiss it enough. maybe that's why his soup had too much pepper and he didn't know how to cut the cucumbers.

he's still an amateur, so he'll leave the cooking to you. maybe next time he'll pretend the takeout he grabbed on his way home from school was handmade, though he doubts his friends will ever believe him, or his students after he demands they buy him kikufuku as compensation for leaving him out the night before.

ignore the ep that came out today! everyone’s alive and well. trust my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

505 notes · View notes

circesoasis · 1 year

Note

jade and john hanging out?

Movie nights on the ship can get a little crazy sometimes.

#homestuck #jade harley #j egbert #john egbert #200 follower celebration #I based this entire thing on that stupid picture of the elephant with miley cyrus’ scary ass eyes pasted onto it #Circe’s Posts

2K notes · View notes

poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months

Text

Fishing Interlude

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #ONE HUNDERED (+6 bonus) COMICS BABY!!!! WE MADE IT!#There's still at least 200 more to go at the rate I'm going but still! Triple digits for a comic project feels worth celebrating.#I'm no stranger to setting myself on projects but this is certainly the most adventurous and long-term one I've undertaken.#The aim was to be done by the end of September (whoops (I also took a few breaks to post other stuff)) But I'm still having fun!#Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey! I have a celebration announcement tomorrow!#Sorry this one doesn't really feel like a 'comic 100'. It's sandwiched between two comics that were supposed to be 'comic 100'...#I love how excited Jingyi is to be in the garden. And I will never miss an opportunity to have them fish.#Slowly...I am setting up my punchline with all this. I promise it's leading somewhere.#Lan Sizhui didn't fit into the frame for panel 3 so I like to think he dove in after a fish #Afterall that's were lan zhan is in this comic. Under the water. Hunting. LSZ is just following what his mentor taught him.#Sorry I broke Jingyi's characterization for this punchline. He's one of the biggest wangxian shippers in canon. But fishing comes first.

913 notes · View notes

midnightcelebrities · 6 months

Text

Katy Perry

#Katy Perry #celebrities #singers #celebs #photoshoot #glamourous #100 club #200 club #300 club #400 club

493 notes · View notes

atomicradiogirl · 3 months

Text

house & wilson, season 6 - tonight

#house md #my edit #amv #amvedit #200 followers celebration!#yes it’s another edit to another song called tonight #this song is just so domestic it works so well #hilson #season 6 hilson is so peak #sibylle baier

250 notes · View notes

emile-tb · 8 months

Text

(Volume Warning)

200!!!

Thank you guys sm for all the support!! <33

#tsp #tspud #the stanley parable #tsp narrator #tsp stanley #WOOHOO 200!!#I didn’t even get to celebrate 100 and this blog is already at 200😭😭#uploads may be a bit less frequent BUT that’s because I’m cooking up some ideas for these guys >:))#ALSO I’m thinking of giving my Narrator a nickname #and I’m starting to lean towards Baxter (or Bax for short)#idk you guys lmk what y’all think :)#my art #my animation

448 notes · View notes

rancidpancakebatter · 1 year

Note

Aaaaah congrats for 200 followers! 🎉🎉🎉 You're incredible writing and deserve even more!

My idea is: 🎵 - IDFC, by Blackbear & TASM Peter Parker. I know it’ll be amazing ❤️

Happiness: and Other Frightening Concepts-[P.P.]

Pairings: College!FWB!Peter Parker x College!Female!Reader

Prompt: IDFC By Blackbear, a song full of angst

Summary: You and Parker have fallen into a situationship of sorts, but that's fine, it's okay. He won't give you anything more and you don't fucking care.

Word Count: 5k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+ Swearing, Smut, P in V sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, dick riding, allusions to Gwen's death,

A/N: Sorry, this took so long. I was gonna write something short but I guess that's just impossible because I can never stfu about this man

You met Peter in your Intro to Sociology class. He was funny and cute and had a lot to say. He sat at the desk next to you. You never talked much, he would come in late sometimes and be quick to leave. But one day he asked if he could borrow your lecture notes and you slipped your number with them.

At first, it was great. You would switch off bringing coffee to class, study in the library, and text all through the day. To say you were easily smitten would be an understatement. He was smooth with flirting, commenting on both your brain and your body. You quickly noticed that you got more compliments when you wore skirts, and now they were a staple in your wardrobe. You really liked Peter, and you thought he liked you too.

Study dates moved to your apartment. The both of you would crowd around your coffee table filled with papers adorned with red ink and smudged highlighter. Slowly they turned less studious, opting to watch a movie on the couch together instead. You would lay under a fluffy throw curled up into him while his hand would rest on your thigh. You had never felt so special.

Ferris Bueller's Day Off was playing, but you couldn’t focus on anything other than the circles Peter was tracing up your leg, getting closer and closer to where you wanted him most. His fingers were toying with the side of your panties and your lungs hitched as you felt his warm breath against your ear.

“(Y/N)...”

It sounded decadent, indulgingly alluring. When you turned to look at Peter his eyes consumed you like a black hole. You could feel yourself being slowly pulled apart and you surrendered to the void.

His lips on yours were everything you had dreamed of and more. Pillowy soft and a lingering taste of something sweet you couldn’t place. His tongue made you dizzy and his fingers made you weak. He plucked you like a violin, knowing just how to play you. He showed you beautiful melodies and you committed them all to heart, entirely at the mercy of your maestro.

That was almost eight months ago. You thought, after that night, everything would change. How silly and naive you were. The “study dates” continued and ended the same: mind-shattering orgasms and poor excuses for why he couldn’t stay, why he wouldn’t be more.

You had convinced yourself that this was fine. That you were fine. That you didn’t care. You didn’t care that you were just a hookup. You didn’t care that he would pop up late at night covered in bruises and no explanation of why. You didn’t care about the empty promises he made. Promises to see you for more than sex. Promises to text you back. Promises that he cared for you.

You sat in your room, reading a book. The summer sun had fallen below the city skyline and now you sat with your friend, the moon. She had held your shaky hands as you remade your empty bed and you as you cried through sleepless nights. She listened to your woes, a silent spectator to your breaking heart.

You were emersed in your reading when your phone went off. A quiet ping, one you recognised all too well. Despite everything in your body telling you not to: you picked it up.

Peter P. :

Can I see you tonight?

You could have said no. You could have chewed him out for not responding to your text from three days ago. You could have put down the phone and not responded at all. But Peter Parker had made you a fool. A fool for him.

(Y/N) (L/I). :

Yeah thats fine

You thanked the moon for her lack of judgment towards you. You had enough for yourself to spare.

Peter P. :

Be over in 30

You freshened up your makeup and put on cuter clothes all while berating yourself for doing so. Peter didn’t care what you were wearing or how you looked. He would pounce you as soon as he got in the door. He would tell you half-truths about how good you felt and how perfect you were. You continued getting ready; you continued to pretend you didn’t care.

Thirty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. It’s frustrating to know that there are some promises he can keep. You opened the door and Peter grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in for a deep kiss. It was sloppy, teeth knocking together as his tongue felt its way through its second home. He guided you through the doorway, closing the door with his foot before pining you against it.

Your morals and attempts at self-respect blurred when you felt his leg slip between your thighs. You remembered all the reasons you wanted him, needed him. His grip loosened around your waist so his deft fingers could roam your body. His kisses move down the collum of your neck as you run your fingers through his hair. His breath tickled your throat.

“Well, hello to you too.” You giggled.

Peter paused, lifting his head to look deeply into your eyes. A sweet smile stretched across his face.

“Hi,” he whispered softly as he pecked your nose. “How was your day?”

“Boring, you?” His eyes darted across your face fondly.

“Entirely too eventful.”

You took notice of a scratch on his cheek, a small bruise on his jaw. You brought your hands up to trace them. You wanted to ask how and why. You wanted to know what had made his day so “eventful”, but you knew he wouldn’t tell you.

His lips descended back onto yours as you pushed away those thoughts. His hands cupped the back of your thighs and you jumped, knowing this routine well. Once you were in his arms he would grind against you, driving you mad as he kissed you dumb. You would feel how hard he was against you and feel pride.

Then he would take you to your bedroom. He would place you on your bed keeping you pinned against him. He would rip off his shirt and start pulling at yours. Every time you would stop yourself from staring at him, the lean cut muscle. He would lavish your stomach and breast with kisses as he worked on taking off your skirt.

He would render you witless as he lapped at your folds, by now, knowing precisely what to do you make you this way. And if you thought about it, that’s why you continued to do this. That’s why you let him in, night after night. Because you spent every waking hour wondering why you weren’t enough, and in these moments he made you forget. He made it so you didn’t care. A temporary nepenthe; you had become addicted.

You gripped the sheets as he took you for all you were worth. You wanted to grab his hand, to weave your fingers together, but that amount of intimacy wasn’t what he wanted. You compromised, gripping his hair instead and giving it a gentle tug. Peter allowed you to lead him away from you and pull him closer.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, could feel your slick on his lips. You made quick work of unbuttoning his pants. He only pulled away for only a moment to take them off and put on the condom from his back pocket.

He swallowed your moans as he entered you. Your walls stretched around him, clinging to all he would give you. He moved slowly but with force, each time bottoming out and making your toes curl.

Sometimes Peter was sweet and soft, other times quick and rough. It changed depending on what he needed from you. Sometimes he just wanted to feel cared for; other times to forget. Today you weren’t sure what he was using you for, maybe a bit of both.

He worried your nipples with his tongue, his hand coming to hold the one not in his mouth. Dazed, you lay your hand on his back, raking your nail up the expanse of muscle to draw him in. He seemed to understand what you were asking for and picked up the pace.

Your moans filled the room as you clung to him, wanting him closer and closer still. His hands pulled at the back of your thighs once again, resting them on his shoulder. Folded in half, all you could do was take it. You let out a scream as you felt him go deeper. He adjusted his position hitting right where you needed. He had made you a babbling mess, words slipping from your lips you didn’t recognise.

“Ah, fuck. Peter please!” He chuckled at your plea. Peter loves seeing you like this, absolutely desperate for him.

“Yeah, baby? What d’ya need, hmm? You wanna cum again?” He pressed his thumb against your clit, teasing you with a small taste of what he could do.

“Please, please, please” You were whining, begging.

“Always so polite for me.” He started moving his thumb and you almost couldn’t breathe.

Peter opted to kiss your neck, not wanting to miss a single sound you made. God, you were close, so so close. You didn’t have to tell Peter this. He could feel the way you were squeezing him; he could hear your breathy moans raising in pitch. He bit down on the spot he knew was most sensitive and revelled in your broken cry. He could feel you gush around his cock.

“There you go, good girl.” You moaned at his praise, not all there as you tried to catch your breath. Peter moved his thumb away but continued to fuck you slowly.

“Do you think you can keep going?” He punctuated his question with a particularly hard thrust that had you arching your back.

His kisses were soft and patient as he waited for your response. He knew what you were going to say. It’s what you said every time; he just liked hearing you say it.

“Yes, yes, please, don’t stop.” You felt him smile against your neck.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap. His hand tangled in your hair as he brought you into an earth-shattering kiss.

“Then work for it.”

As you ground down against him, he placed his hands on your hips. His grip was firm; you were sure if he pulled his hands away you would be able to trace marks left by his finger pads.

You did a teasing bounce and the loud moan from both parties made you momentarily concerned about getting a noise complaint. You felt so full with Peter so deep inside you.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good. Do it again.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders and used them as leverage as his cock speared into you. Over and over and over again. Peter threw his head back, soft grunts leaving his puffy, pink lips. He looked so pretty like this: curls stuck to his forehead, eyes closed, mouth open, neck flexed, and altogether lost in you.

Your legs were getting tired and you started slowing down. Peter felt this and wrapped his arm around your lower back, raising your body and slamming it back down. If your mind was even a little clearer, you would have questioned how he was able to do this. But for now, your mind was swimming in the mix of post-orgasm fog and the desperate pre-orgasm haze.

It wasn’t long until the coil in your stomach snapped, relief washing over you. You brought Peter’s lips to yours, devouring him as you came down.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m close.” Peter’s brows were furrowed tightly as he continued bucking into you.

You wove your fingers through his chestnut curls, gripping them tightly so his gaze was focused on you.

“Please, Peter-I need you to cum.” Your words washed through him and he revelled in your silent permission.

He surged forward, once again pinning you on your back. Peter had unexplained stamina and once you had gotten your fill you let him use you to get off. You got off on it too. The way he man-handled you, throwing you around. The way he seemed to move with ungodly speed and force.

Your legs were thrown lazily over his shoulders as he grabbed your hips, keeping them slightly elevated as he pistoned into you. He kept you still as he gave you all he had. Your back arched and your body squirmed, overstimulated as you were drowned in pleasure. Galaxies burned through your veins as Peter continued to thrust into you.

He could feel you pulsing around him, squeezing him. He brought his thumb down to your poor, battered clit once again, knowing you were close. Your brain was effectively shut off, a string of “please” leaving your mouth, though you had no idea what you were asking for. More? Less? Peter? Who's to say?

It wasn’t long until you felt him “lock up.” He stilled inside you, muscles taught, as a deep grunt left his throat. You came then too, feeling him pulse inside you.

“Fuck,” was all he said as he crashed into you, completely wiped from all the work he did.

The sweat from your bodies stuck together as he draped himself across you, his head buried in the crook of your neck. You lay there in the quiet, soaking him up, running your fingers through his hair. You pretended the heavy throbbing of your heart was due to sex, nothing more, nothing less. That didn’t work for long. He felt so right in your arms and you wanted him to stay, to be more.

“Do you wanna order some food? We can have it delivered, maybe watch a movie or something.” You offered the same olive branch you had many times before. The bark was stripped and dead by now.

You felt the silent sigh he let out against your skin and the quiet groan as he began to sit up. You hated that you did this to yourself. Every time it ended the same. You would offer yourself to him and he would graciously decline. This was no different.

“I would but I’ve got some work I need to catch up on. Jameson wants those new photos and I’ve still gotta edit them and…you know how it is.”

Unfortunately, you did.

You move to grab your shirt from the floor, precipitously throwing it back on. Your back faced Peter as you tried to fight off the tears that threatened to fall. Peter didn’t want to stay. He never wanted to stay. Why would you think this would be any different? He doesn’t want you. But that’s fine. You don’t care.

“What?”

Peter’s tone caught you off guard. Well, all of it caught you off guard, but he sounded so…small. Like you had hurt him in some way. You turn to look at him, not sure you had heard him at all. His eyebrows were knitted and a frown overtook his once peaceful demeanour. His eyes darted over your features, probably just as confused, but for why you had no clue.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t care?’” You flinched as he mimiced the venom you unintentionally spit at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Peter looked genuinely hurt and you hated yourself for feeling so bad.

“Oh, so what did you mean? That you don’t care that I’m busy? Or that you don’t care about what’s going on in my life? Because if you don’t care you don’t have to ask.” You turned away from his piercing gaze, wiping at your face.

How dare he? How dare he accuse you of not caring? As if you didn’t constantly ask him for this information, as if you didn’t constantly pry for more. Was it not he who always cut you off, he who refused to share?

“Don’t- don’t say that. Of course, I care…I care so much. I just- how could you even say that?” Peter scoffed and you heard the familiar sound of him jumping in his jeans.

“Uh, I don’t know, maybe because you literally said you don’t care.” You felt your anger rise with his.

“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t! I have been trying for so long to get you to care and you just…don’t! I don’t know why I keep expecting you to change!” He turned to face you, exasperation is the word you would use to describe his face now.

“Wha- change? What do I need to change? What is it that I don’t care about?”

You had never fought with Peter. You weren’t in a relationship so it was never warranted. You couldn’t see a way out of this without shattering every illusion you had built. Your castle was crumbling and you didn’t see any point in trying to save it. Hell, you were this far now.

“Me…You don’t care about me. I’m just some quick fuck to you, gone as fast as you come. Every time I want to hang out, be anything more than this, you make an excuse- push me away. The only texts you respond to are about when you can come over. The only time you wanna know how I’m doing is when I’m under you. You don’t care and you know what? I’m done. I’m done. I’m done caring about where you’re off to. I’m done caring about who or what gives you all those scars and bruises. I’m done pining after someone who obviously only wants me for my body. You. Don’t. Care. and I’m done. I don’t fucking care.”

You wiped angrily at the tears that had fallen. All your cards were on the table and if you knew anything about Peter, you knew he would leave them there. He would walk out the door and text you in a few days asking to drop by and you would say yes, and then you would be right back here. Or maybe he could change. Maybe he wouldn’t text you at all. Maybe he would decide this wasn’t worth it and leave.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, his gentle hand shocking you from your spiralling thoughts.

“(Y/N)...that’s not- that’s not true. I do care. You’re not just some ‘quick fuck’, okay? I just…don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be more than this. I’m sorry.”

You wanted to believe him so badly, but a small part of your brain was screaming at you that this was a cop-out. Because if he tells you that he cares but he can’t, then he gets to keep coming back- to keep stringing you along.

“Peter, I can’t do this anymore.” You wish you hadn’t said that. You wish you had said anything else because this felt final. You weren’t ready to say goodbye.

You felt his hand retract and could sense him stiffen. You expected him to leave, to say something along the lines of “fuck this, I’m out”, but instead he sat down on the edge of your bed with his head in his hands. You stood silently, unsure if there was anything else you should say- anything you could. After a moment he raised his head, a look of pure determination on his face.

“Okay…so we don’t do this anymore. We can do something else instead.” You looked at him confused.

“Peter, what are you saying?” He grabbed your shoulders, leaning down to meet you at your level.

“I’m saying we stop doing this whole…situationship…friends with benefits…thing. Yeah- we drop the benefits and just become friends. Actual friends.” You considered his proposition for a moment but you knew in your heart it was too late for that.

“I can’t be just friends with you, Peter. It’s too much. It would hurt too much.” Peter took his hands off you again and threw them behind his head.

“Fuck!” He cursed loudly, you had never known Peter to raise his voice.

“I can’t date you (Y/N). I can’t.” There was a fire in his eyes that almost frightened you.

“Why not?” You had hoped that your voice wouldn’t come out so shaky. You didn’t want to seem any more pathetic in front of him. You almost regret asking, not knowing how devastating his answer will be, but you coax yourself into thinking this will give you the closure you need to move on and forget him.

“I- you…look, I just…I’m not…safe. If I date you, if I care for you, If I love you…that could be really bad. I can’t lose you, I can’t, okay? I refuse to go through that again. You are a light to this world and I will not be the reason it goes out. Absolutely not.” You couldn’t help but feel like you were being scolded.

“I don’t understand. How is loving me a bad thing? Are you going to hurt me?-”

“No, I would never!”

“Then who? Who is going to hurt me, Peter? And why do they get to rule so much of your life? How is it fair that they make you fear a chance at happiness? My chance at happiness? Why do they get a say?” Peter looked frenzied, his eyes wild and full of unfallen tears, while his hair was mused and sticking up in all directions from pulling at it.

“You’re not listening to me-”

“I am Peter, but all I’m hearing is more excuses. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I’m fine with this. I want more, I need more, and if you can’t give me that then…I think you should leave.”

Your heart broke as he did just that. You were convinced he took it with him, bloodying his back pocket. Or maybe he crushed it into the carpet with his heel on his way out. Either way, he left and you didn’t hear from him again.

Classes had started back up, and you were so close to graduation that you could almost taste it. Your degree only a few more credits away. You were on your way to class but due to your early start, you had half an hour to kill. You decided that was as good as any reason to stop into your favourite coffee place before Ancient Grecian Philosophy.

You ordered your favourite pick-me-up and a pain au chocolat to go. The weather wasn’t too bad so you chose to sit outside, enjoying your breakfast and your book. Your headphones drowned out the hustle and bustle of New York, and, evidently, its favourite spandex-clad crime fighter.

You only noticed him when you saw his glove wave in front of the pages before you. You looked up only to meet the eyes of Spider-Man. You were amazed, to say the least. You hastily pulled out your headphones and set down your book.

“Oh my god, Spider-Man. You’re- you’re Spider-Man.” He chuckled at your response.

“Yes, I am. What gave it away?” Your shock was lessening, probably due to the comfort he seemed to radiate.

“The spider on your chest is kinda obvious.” He made a show of looking down and acting almost surprised to see it there.

“Yeah, I guess you’re kinda right. Without it though, I could be any old schmuck.” You chuckled again as he rested his hands on his hips.

“Even with it, there’s no telling which old schmuck you are.” He brought a hand to his chest, a gasp ripping from there.

“I am not old! I’ll have you know I’m only a few months older than you!” You brought a hand up to cover your laugh. He was funny, you’ll give him that. But then you felt a twist in your gut, apprehension nestling in your sternum.

“How would you know that?” Spider-Man tilted his head at you.

“How would I know what?” You started to rise from the table, looking at him more head on.

“How would you know if I’m younger than you?” He remained silent and you cursed his mask for hiding his facial expressions.

“Why are you here? Do I know you?” His gaze fell to the floor and you felt your fight or flight start to kick in. Your eyes darted around for the best escape route.

“Look, I just wanted to talk to you. I can explain everything just-” He paused to look around, you noticed then all the people crowing the window of the coffee shop. “Just not here.”

He extended his hand to you, “I know it’s crazy but I’m asking you to trust me.”

Despite your better judgement, you took his hand. I mean if your going to die, being murdered by spider-man isn’t the worst way to go. He swung you to an alley nearby before throwing you on his back and scaling up the side of a tall building.

Once you reached the top he let you down and began to pace. You could hear him muttering to himself, but you couldn’t pick up on what he was saying. The entire situation was making you increasingly nervous.

“I don’t know when you plan on explaining but I have to get to class soon, so the quicker the better.” You watched as he scratched at the back of his neck before turning to you.

“Okay, so, you do know me, but you don’t like me much, and for good reason. But I miss you and I think I’m ready now, like, I think I can be what you need me to be and I want- I want to try.” You always thought the expression “Staring at someone like they had three heads” was a bit dramatic, but in this moment you were sure you were doing just that.

Before you could question the man he ripped off his mask revealing a face you had tried to forget. His smile seemed nervous and you felt like you might pass out.

“Peter? Wha- How? What is happening?” You took a step back and Peter dropped down almost comically. His hands were spread out in front of him to show he was no threat, but your heart thought otherwise.

“I needed to talk to you but I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me so I sent in the uh- the other guy.” You scoffed.

“I can’t help but feel a little manipulated here,” You laughed coldly. Peter’s eyes widened at your words, panic seeping through him.

“I- well, I-uh…I’m not trying to manipulate you. If you wanna leave I’ll drop you off right where I found you and can go back to pretending I don’t exist, but I meant what I said before. I do miss you, I do think I’m ready. I’m ready to show you I care.”

Peter watched as you sat on the concrete below you in wonder. You tilted your head up to the sky, saying nothing in response. He worried for a moment that he may have sent you into shock, definitely damaging his chances at getting you back. You sighed and patted the ground next to you and Peter took a seat.

“I cannot believe you thought this was a good idea. Was your best plan really ‘grab her off the street and info dump until her brain breaks?’” Peter felt his cheeks start to burn with embarrassment but then you nudged him with your shoulder, “And here I was thinking you were smart.”

You were teasing him, that’s good. That’s a start.

“I don’t know what gave you that impression. I was pretty stupid last time you saw me.” You gave a soft hum in agreement but offered no other reply.

“Speaking of…I’ve spent the last few months thinking about you, about what you said. I wanted to be with you but Spider-Man is kinda a package deal. And it’s not a good deal, it’s kinda a rip-off. I couldn’t be with you and not tell you about him. It wouldn’t be fair. But telling about him puts you in danger. There are a lot of people who want Spider-Man dead, a lot of people who want to hurt me, and that means people who would hurt you to get to me.” He paused as if having to convince himself to keep going, to not back out again.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be cutting off any chance of happiness just because someone might not want me to have that. I do so much for everyone in this city and May says I get to be a little selfish. I think she’s right too. (Y/N)...I care about you a lot, and if you’re willing to give me the chance, I wanna make you happy. Like really happy. Like the kind of happy that makes everyone so annoyed but really they’re just jealous. And I think, I could let myself be happy too.”

You let his words wash over you. If he did walk away with your heart that night it seems now he was trying to give it back, and he offered his too. It was vandalised and tender, but you didn’t mind the mess. You reached between you and took his hand in yours, a ghost of a smile dancing across your lips.

“I think I would be willing to let you do that.” Your soul felt brighter when Peter smiled at you.

“Really?” You nodded your head and Peter placed his hand on the back of your neck. For a moment you thought he might kiss you, but instead, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Thank you.” You weren’t sure what he was thanking you for exactly, but his words felt rich with significance.

You stayed there for a while, neither of you moving before Peter spoke up again.

“You mentioned something about class earlier, I could drop you off?” You agreed as he pulled away and helped you stand. “And then maybe after I could take you out for brunch, I feel bad for interrupting your breakfast.”

You chuckled, “That would make me very happy.”

Tag List: @heejinw0rld, @jedisstark, @Possiblydeads-blog, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz, @greek-mythsnthings,

230 notes · View notes

lesbianpepsi · 10 months

Note

Hi can you write about taking care of Sam when she sick and just fluff

hello honey, of course i can write a lil sick fic, especially if it's for Sam

I adore you, can't you see you're meant for me?

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Fem!reader

Request: Taking care of Sam whiles she's sick

Words: 1.863k

Warnings: sam having the cold? bad writing

—————————————————————

"I can't come over, I'm sick." Sam grumbled through the phone along with a few coughs.

You giggled at her words. "Boo, you whore." You replied thinking Sam was only trying to quote the iconic line from the iconic film, Mean Girls.

More harsh coughs were heard through the phone which slightly alarmed you since- no offence to your girlfriend- she wasn't the best at acting.

"What? Why are you calling me a whore?" Your eyes widened as you noticed Sam was in fact not quoting Mean Girls. "Wait, you're actually sick?"

"Why else would I say I'm sick?" The nasally sounding Carpenter sister questioned sounding confused.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry, Sam. I thought you were- you know what never mind. I'm coming over now." You said briskly as you put the call on speaker mode, rushing to put your converses on.

"You don't have to come over, it's fine." Sam said to which you shook your head at, as if she could see you. "I'll be over in ten." You told her as you finished tying your shoes, running over to grab your phone, wallet and keys before walking out of the door.

"You live thirty minutes away."

"I'll be there in ten."

—————————————————————

You somehow managed to arrive at Sam's and Tara's apartment in ten minutes and with a bag full of items.

Knocking on the door three times to announce your arrival you opened the door and walked in.

Tara was sat on the couch with the Babadook playing on the Tv, she turned her head to look at you, giving you a smile. You gave Tara a little wave with your free hand as you swiftly closed the door.

"Hey Y/n, Sam's in her room." She told you to which you smiled appreciatively at. "Hey Tara. How've you been?" You asked as you walked over to stand behind the couch, looking down at Tara.

She shrugged her shoulders weakly. "Alright, thanks for asking. I'm feeling much better than I was a few days ago."

"You were sick too?" You asked her. She nodded her head. "Unfortunately. Mindy had a bad cold and she gave it to me, and every time I get sick Sam also gets sick. So now she's rotting away in her bed."

You chucked at the thought of Mindy passing her cold to everyone in the group, thankfully you hadn't gotten it yet.

"Sibling connection." You teased before you glanced towards Sam's door. Tara giggled nodding her head, it was truly an annoying connection.

You began to walk over to Sam's room before you abruptly stopped and shoved your hand into the bag, pulling out a bottle of Cherry Coke and a small box of Nerds as you turned back to look at Tara.

"I almost forgot." You said making Tara turn to look back at you. Her eyes glanced at your hands and her eyes widened with excitement. You tossed over the drink and sweets that Tara horribly failed to catch.

"Thank you!" She yelled out in a sing song voice already opening the Nerds to get a handful. You laughed as you continued your original plan to walk towards Sam's door.

You gave it a gentle knock before walking inside. The room was utterly void of any light other than some of the light peeking through her curtains.

"Sammy, you alive?" You joked lightly as you walked over to the curtained window, pulling them apart only a bit to allow more light inside so you could actually see your girlfriend.

Sam grumbled as she shuffled around in her bed. "Barley." She said in a raspy nasally voice that made you sigh, she sounded really sick.

Kicking off your shoes you moved to sit by Sam on the bed. The sick girl turned away from you hiding her face in the pillows.

"I don't want you also getting sick." She mumbled as she let out a heavy breath. You pushed yourself closer to Sam as you placed the bag on your lap, searching through it for specific items.

"Well I'm here now and I'm not leaving until you're back to your non-sick self." Sam grudgingly rolled over with her face landing softly against your elbow.

You shuffled further down until Sam could lay her head on your shoulder. Turning your head to look at her you noticed she looked really ill.

Darker bags than usual were laying under her eyes, the end of her nose and the skin around her nose red from having to use a tissue so often, she was also boiling. Even through your hoodie you could feel the heat radiating off of Sam.

"Oh baby." You whispered with sympathy, Sam groaned next to you. "Don't pity me."

You rolled your eyes at her stubbornness. From the bag you pulled out a myriad of items: a packet of Ibuprofen, a box including sachets of cinnamon tea (Sam's favourite), a packet of tissues, a bottle of cold water and of course some soup.

"Have you taken any pills today?" You asked her to which Sam shook her head 'no'. You passed over the pack of Ibuprofen along with the bottle of water. "Take two now and then in a few hours if you've still got sore thighs you can have another two."

"How'd you even know my thighs hurt?" Sam asked pulling away from you to sit up on the bed, her back now against the headboard.

You copied her movement as you watched her take out two pills from the packet.

"Every time you're sick your thighs always hurt, I remember you telling me." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sam's eyes gazed at you as she popped the pills in her mouth before taking a large sip of the water. She swallowed it after a few seconds and kept the bottle on the bedside table.

She coughed once as she nodded her head, giving you a smile. "Thank you." You smiled sweetly at her as you grabbed her hand, interlocking your fingers with a gentle squeeze.

"How about I go make you some soup and some cinnamon tea then we can watch anything you want." You suggested as you picked up the tomato soup can with your free hand, a bit basic but it was Sam's favourite.

She nodded her head slowly at your words, smiling weakly. "Yes please." She croaked out in a nasally voice.

You gave a curt nod before getting out of the bed, Sam let out a low groan as you dropped your interlocked hands.

"I'll be quick, you pick a show or movie while I make you your soup okay?" You said as you manoeuvred your hoodie off your body, dropping it in the floor.

"Fine." Sam exaggerated. You smiled at her once more before grabbing the box full of sachets and tin once again before leaving the room.

It didn't take long until you were back by Sam's side with a bowl of tomato soup, a small plate of toast and one cinnamon tea for Sam.

(While you were gone Sam had put on your hoodie which made your heart soar at the sight)

"You're the best." Sam thanked as she took the bowl from your hands, taking a small spoonful to which me moaned in satisfaction at the taste.

You beamed with pride as you moved closer to Sam's side until your shoulders and thighs were touching.

"Did you choose what you want to watch?" You asked her as you stole a toast off the plate on her lap. "Don't you dare get crumbs in my bed." Sam threatened as she turned to give you a serious look.

You sighed leaving the bed to stand up as you ate your toast. "What movie or show?" You repeated with a mouthful of toast.

"What's that tv show you keep watching when I'm at yours?" Sam questioned back as she took another spoonful of the soup.

"Brooklyn Nine Nine?"

"No I don't think so."

"Schitts Creek?" You guessed again.

Sam shook her head 'no.' "Derry Girls?" You asked in a more hopeful tone as you took one final bite of your toast.

"No, it's not a sitcom."

Dusting off the crumbs on your shirt you went to sit next to Sam again. "The End Of The Fucking World? Hannibal?" You tried again.

"Is the main character a Russian blonde woman?"

Your eyes widened as you finally figured out what show Sam was talking about. "Killing Eve?"

"Killing Eve, that's the name. Yeah Killing Eve." Sam confirmed as she took her own slice of toast dipping it into the soup. You grinned with satisfaction as you grabbed the TV remote, logging into Netflix to find Killing Eve.

"You know if you just said that in the beginning I would've guessed it a lot faster." Sam rolled her eyes as she took a bite of the toast.

As the opening scene to the first episode played Sam had enough of her food for now and placed them on top of the bed side table. Replacing the bowl and plate with her cup of tea.

You felt Sam move closer to you as she leaned her head on your shoulder, one hand holding the hot cup of tea and the other laying on your leg.

Wrapping an around her waist Sam relaxed even further into the touch. Sam was usually the one wrapping an arm around you, or usually being the big spoon, but when she's sick she settles for allowing you to be the bigger spoon.

"You're the best girlfriend ever." Sam said as she took another slow sip of her cinnamon tea, the smell wavered into your nose.

You chuckled at the compliment. "I know right." Sam rolled her eyes playfully as she took another careful sip of her tea.

"I take back my statement." She threatens with seriousness, you gasped dramatically as you placed a hand on your chest. "Oh how you wound me, my love." You say playing into the dramatics.

Sam laughed in a dry tone which still managed to make your heart skip a beat at the sound.

"Fine I'll take it back, just because I love you."

"I knew our love would conquer all."

The two of you stayed in comfortable silence till the end of the first episode of Killing Eve.

Sam had finished her tea and was fully cuddling into you at that point, making you pass her the bottle of water every now and again.

As you pressed play for the next episode Sam spoke up. "Thank you for coming over and taking care of me."

You smiled warmly as you kissed Sam's forehead, the skin cooled down a bit compared to how hot it was earlier.

"It's my duty as your girlfriend, Sam. You don't need to thank me." You reassured her as she let out a hum.

"Still, thank you." She said as you felt her press a featherlight kiss to your neck. You beamed with love at the contact, your smile somehow widening.

"I love you so much, Sammy."

Sam rolled her eyes at the nickname as a smile of her own played on her lips. "I love you so much more, Y/n."

#lesbianpepsi 200 followers celebration #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter #scream six #my fic writing #sick fic

636 notes · View notes