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#300 followers celebration!!
yuri-is-online · 8 months
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Hi! Congratulations on getting more followers! You totally deserve it:)
Can I ask for prompt 5 with Floyd, Idia and Leona?
Thank you<3
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5. Jealousy pt.1- seeing their partner wearing someone else's jacket
(^ワ^) thank you annon, your words mean a lot. Of course you can! how did i know Floyd was gonna get this prompt
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, miscommunication and jealousy but everything ends happy. Check out the rest of the event requests here.
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Floyd
Floyd unceremoniously dumps you off his in a secluded corner of the gymnasium hallway.   “Shrimpy…" he whines, yanking on the hem of the used gym shirt you are wearing as he uses his other arm to cage you against the wall "where did you get that shirt?” “From the laundry basket in your room this morning?”  He had stolen your blazer a few days ago to as a joke so you had impulsively decided to pay him back by snatching something of his. He's always whining about wanting you to wear is clothes anyway, why is he so upset? “It’s yours isn’t it?” “Nah.” Floyd's lips purse in displeasure.  “Nah, that's Jade’s not mine.  If ya look, he has his name written in stupid little letters on the tag.”  Oh.  OH.  Well, now you just feel stupid and fix your eyes firmly on his shoes. How could you be so stupid? Of course, some of Jade's clothes would be in the room's ONE laundry basket. Hell, you aren't actually sure Floyd uses the hamper now that you think about it. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the teasing as you look up prepared to apologize, only to completely lose your train of thought at the sight of Floyd yanking his jersey over his head. “FLOYD!”
“Huh?  What’s wrong lil shrimpy?" A very sharp grin emerges from the cloth, though he doesn't bother to take his arms out of the shirt just yet. "I'm on the bench aaaaaaaany way ‘s not like I need it.” “You’ll be cold!” It's the wrong argument to make when he practically has you pinned to the wall. “No I won’t,” he giggles, good mood blown back to life by the flames of your embarrassment “and if you’re that worried just stay here and squeeze me.”
Idia
"You're seriously too unaware for your own good." Idia mutters, wrapping himself further into Jack's jacket as you try to hide yourself in his hoodie. The outline of his hair flickers a gentle pink as the two of you try your best to avoid looking at each other.
"He was just worried about me being cold because I wouldn't stop sneezing during class." Idia's sweatshirt smells surprisingly nice, and once you get the courage to look up at your boyfriend he doesn't look bad in the regular uniform jacket either. Though you have to admit, he is at his cutest when he is comfortable and he definitely is not right now.
"We aren't in the same classes so I miss out on time limited quests like that, huh." He mutters, reaching up to fidget with his headphones while you wonder if touching him would spook him too much. "It's almost like everyone forgets we're together."
"I'd never let them do that!" You decide to risk it, wrapping your arms around Idia's torso in a loose embrace he can escape if he needs to. It forces him to really look you over, taking in the full sight of you in his hoodie and a deep, deep breath.
It makes his hair explode into a beautiful hot pink display.
"On second thought take it off." He squeaks, jumping back from your hug and burying his face in his hands.
"Idia-"
"Quick, I can't handle this much agrro!"
Leona
There is an angel at rest in the furthest corner of the NRC library. Their head is firmly smashed against a text book, leaving a clear dent in their cheek that is threatening to turn into a series of paper cuts. Anyone would look at them and be drawn in...
Which was precisely the problem. Someone had forgotten they had a much more comfortable place to nap and a much more comfortable partner than a stack of old books, and hadn't gone looking for him, forcing Leona to do some work for once. And good thing he decided to go on patrol too, some small brained herbivore had decided to try and push in on his territory. As if sensing his presence, you stir in your sleep slightly and Leona suppresses a smile. Barely.
"Oy." Leona bats the offending jacket off from around your shoulders, resisting the urge to turn it to sand, reminding himself that would be petty and beneath him.
Exactly where that jacket was right now.
"Leona?" You murmur sleepily, trying to resist the temptation to rub your eyes. His heart clenches painfully in denial of how cute you are.
"What are you some sort of cub? Making me come looking for you like this." His insults make you smile for some reason as you reach to shove your books back into your bag blissfully unaware of the jealousy storming behind them.
"Let's go take a nap," you hum, well aware those are some of Leona's favorite words "I had a really nice dream about you, wanna actually wake up in your arms next time." Well now, Leona certainly isn't going to argue with that.
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thinking about peter trying to teach you something for class but you are too distracted by him (idk if it did this right)
peter tries so hard to help you succeed because he loves you so much, and how could he not help his baby out when she's struggling?? especially when he's acing organic chemistry, and you are very clearly not.
since peter's always over, or vice versa, it was easy to incorporate an hour of tutoring. he would whip out the textbooks, the notebooks, and even old tests of his to show you how he went through each question.
and while you absolutely loved his company, organic chemistry is extremely boring. how do you distract yourself? by romantically staring at your boyfriend in front of you. duh!!
god his arms...
he was wearing a plain old t-shirt, but peter had the habit of making simple attire look so good. the way the sleeve of the shirt squeezes his muscles...sighhhh.
your distracted state was visible, because peter had to stop his explanation and call out your name to catch your attention. causing you to jump.
"were you listening to anything i just said?"
"oh-uh yeah totally!"
"uh huh, okay...then what was it?"
your face starts to warm at being caught red handed. peter can't help but chuckle, "yeah that's what i thought, bug."
it only took another fifteen minutes of studying for peter to finally come to a deal with you. 'if you could actively pay attention and not eye fuck him for the next ten minutes, then you'll get a kiss'.
and suddenly, organic chemistry became the most interesting thing you've ever heard.
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winterrrnight · 2 months
Text
always? always.
PAIRING: frat!rafe cameron x gn!ex bsf!reader
SUMMARY: you and rafe were best friends, but you parted ways in high school for reasons unknown. but what happens when you get a text from him, asking you to come over?
WARNINGS: abuse, ward being a shitty dad, swearing, bruises, cuts, blood, hurt/comfort. it talks explicitly about physical and emotional abuse!
EDITH SPEAKS: so. this is actually one of my works for my 300 followers celly and it was requested by @bejeweledreverie, but I accidentally posted their request without any actual content in it 🥲 so anyways, Annie, I hope you enjoy reading! <3
I got a little carried away, and usually I don't write themes like this, I think it turned out pretty good! Let me know any thoughts you may have 💞 this is set right in the beginning of S1!
PROMPT REQUESTED: "you came." "you called."
300 followers celebration (now closed) || navigation
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This is strange. This is never supposed to happen. Rafe Cameron, out of all the people, has texted you if you can come over if you aren’t busy.
Where is this coming from?
You stare at the text for minutes, trying to figure out maybe there’s something which will show you this is all just a bluff. But it seems genuine. Really genuine.
And that’s what is concerning you.
You have known Rafe since basically forever, and you were close when you were little. But something happened in high school, something which you still haven’t figured out exactly what it is, that he basically refuses to do anything but detest you. You’ve tried to understand what it is; tried your level best to separate each strand of the situation to figure what exactly did you do that made him act this way. But you returned with no luck, and the best thing you could do was accept it, and move on from it.
As you think more and more about the text, the more it bothers you. It tugs on your heartstrings and you start to feel concerned for him. Fuck it, you whisper to yourself and get up from your bed to go to him.
As you’re driving to his place, you turn the situation over and over in your head. Maybe it is a prank, maybe it’s just some practical joke.
Or maybe, just maybe, he actually does need your help.
Even though the last one seems the one which has the least probability to happen, yet you’re on your way, as if you’re still his best friend.
You park your car right outside Tannyhill and make your way to its porch. You take a deep breath, trying your level best to calm down your nerves, and then you ring the bell.
The moment swells as you wait for someone to open the door for you, the only thing audible in your ears being your own heartbeat. Finally the door opens, and Rafe is standing right opposite you, in a condition that makes you gasp.
His nose is bloody and there’s a deep cut on his right cheek. Sweat and sticky tears shine on his face, and he’s almost trembling when he’s standing, holding the door open for you.
“Rafe?” You mumble softly, your breathing erratic and your eyes wide as you try to comprehend the situation at hand. Rafe Cameron texted you to come over, and when you do, you see he’s beat up.
Rafe isn’t one to back up from a fight and you know that. If a fight breaks out at school, you know, no matter what, the other person is going to be the one left with bruises all over them. Not Rafe.
It’s never Rafe.
But right now, he’s almost on the verge of breaking down, all covered in blood, and you know exactly who’s the cause of it.
Ward.
It’s been happening since you’ve known him. Ward has never been satisfied with him. He has always had a sense of control over Rafe that gives him a superiority complex and makes him think he can do whatever his heart desires.
And that’s what made Rafe so cold.
So cold from love, and touch.
But with you, he used to be relaxed. You were just kids, but you’d be comforting him, letting him know he’s okay.
But when your separation happened, you never knew how he’s been doing, but never also asked him, because Rafe never really responded well to you.
But now that he’s asked you to come, after not being close for years, you know this is something huge.
Rafe is avoiding all sorts of eye contact with you, his gaze drifting to his shoes. You are still standing at the porch, your eyes desperately trying to find his.
“You came,” he softly mumbles, his gaze fixated at the floor.
“You called,” you breathe out.
His eyes train up to yours, blue eyes – which aren’t icy how you usually see them, but soft and full of hurt. Your heart almost breaks seeing him in this condition.
He silently steps aside to make way for you. You enter inside Tannyhill, and you realize you haven't been in here in the last few years except for occasionally at a party Rafe has thrown which your friend has dragged you to. You had almost forgotten the hugeness of the mansion, and how silent it feels when there’s not many people in it.
Rafe walks ahead of you and climbs up his stairs and up to his room. You silently follow him, even though your mind remembers all the paths like the back of your hand.
Rafe reaches his room and he grips onto the door knob, and you notice his knuckles are bloody too; definitely from punching something a little too hard. You peel your gaze away from him, the blood and the bruises making you a little uncomfortable.
Rafe opens the door and you both walk inside. The room is completely disheveled; the pillows thrown around, the duvet all wrinkly and messed up, a cluttered desk, and the worst: a hole in the wall. You’re quick to connect the dots when you realize the hole and his bleeding knuckles are connected.
Rafe is now sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands and his fingers are pulling on his hair strands. You sigh at the sight and sit next to him, a small distance between you two. Rafe has never been one to like physical touch, so you’re careful to not touch him in any way, when your heart is breaking at the sight and all you want to do is softly caress his back.
He looks up from his hand towards you. “I’m sorry for calling you at such a short notice,” he mumbles. “I- I didn’t have anyone else to call,”
You shake your head at him, a sympathetic look in your eyes. “It’s okay Rafe. What happened?”
He breaks your eye contact and looks at the floor, his gaze not wavering. His forehead is creased from stress, and you can see his chest heaving as he’s taking deep breaths.
“It’s getting worse,” he whispers so faintly, the words get lost in the air around you. “So much worse,”
“Where is he right now?” you softly ask.
“Cameron Development,” he sniffs. “It’s just, I can’t fight back. When it's him, I can never fight back. I feel like a little boy, completely lost and vulnerable. He plays with my feelings. One day he’s telling me he’s proud of me, and the next? Hitting me like I’m some toy,” he whispers. “I’m, I’m done with this shit.” He looks up at you, his eyes boring into yours. “And you’re the only one who knows about it,”
You intake a sharp breath at his words, them striking a chord in you. You have never known what to exactly do in these situations, all you do is help him calm down, listen to what he has to say, clean up his wounds, and ask him to just hope for it all to end. But it's been years. It hasn’t ended yet. Why will it ever end any time soon?
You feel your own eyes pricked by tears, but you try your best to not let them fall. Rafe is so good at hiding his true feelings behind a carefully curated façade, no one ever suspects him to be going through so much shit.
“Apparently I need to get my shit together,” he chuckles dryly, when you both know there is nothing humorous about this situation. “Because if I don’t, I’ll be a shitty heir to the family business. I won’t deserve it,”
“Rafe, I know for a fact you won’t be a shitty heir. You’ll be good, heck, you’ll be great,” you say. “I have so much faith in you. That’s just how Ward is. I don’t want you listening to him, okay? He’s fucked in the head. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.” You get up from his bed and stand in front of him, letting out your hand for him. “Come on, I’ll clean you up, yeah? All that blood and stuff,”
He only nods at your words and takes your hand, and he gets up. You walk to his bathroom where he has a first aid kit kept. Rafe sits on the sink and you stand in front of him, the first aid kit in your hand.
You firstly take a wet towel to clean the dried up blood from his face. You rub it gently over his face, cleaning all the blood and sweat off him.
His breathing starts to slow, and his muscles start to visibly relax as he’s letting you carefully patch him up. You can see his eyes are fluttered close, the creases in his forehead now completely absent, and he looks relaxed.
“Listen…” You mumble softly, as you're preparing a cotton pad with some antiseptic on top of it. “You don’t have long left before you can move out, yeah? It’s all almost done. You’re almost done with it.” You smile gently, as you very carefully start to dab the cotton pad on his bruises. “You’ve been so strong all your life, and now, it’s almost done. You’ll live far away from Ward, where he can’t say anything to you, yeah?”
He winces a little as the antiseptic burns him, but he doesn’t push you away. He stays fixed in his seat, his eyes closed, as he hears your words and lets you treat him.
A silence falls around you both as you start to put the band aids where they are needed. You take a step back to look if you’ve covered him okay, and it looks like you have.
“All done,” You smile, screwing the cap of the antiseptic back and keeping it in the box. Rafe opens his eyes, a soft look taking over his features as he watches you clean everything up and set it all aside.
“I’m, I’m sorry…” he whispers quietly. You look at him with a confused expression on your face.
“What for?” You mutter, not really knowing where he’s coming from.
“For pushing you away, I didn’t want to do that. It was the shittiest thing I’ve ever done. You’re the only one who understands me, who listens to me. Everyone just thinks I’m this privileged boy with a shit ton of money,” he shakes his head. “But you, you’ve seen it all through it. And I don’t think I can ever be this way with anyone else.”
You sigh at him, his words starting to sink in me. “I just want to know why you pushed me away.” You whisper. “We were best friends, Rafe,”
“I- I hated seeing you hanging out with the Pogues,” he mutters quietly. “I didn’t like losing you to them.”
You think hard about what he’s saying, and you realize he’s right. When you started at a new high school, it was overwhelming to say the very least. Pope was one of your study buddies in your class, and through him you met the rest of his friend group. To say they were living their life to the fullest is an understatement. They were enjoying every single moment of it.
“I know they live on the edge, they like doing adventurous things, and you’ve always seeked adventure just like that,” he continues, “it just hurts so much seeing you get with them. We parted ways, and the only thing I thought I could’ve done was to hate you. And, now that I think about it, I was just being petty, I know. I just, I just wish to have you back,”
The tears start to roll down your cheeks, your eyes red and your heart loud. You instantly wrap your arms around Rafe, clutching him tightly to you.
“I’m sorry,” You whisper, my head in the crook of his neck. “I’m really sorry I did that. It’s my fault we separated. It’s all my fault and I’m really sorry about that,”
Rafe’s hands reach for your back as he gently rubs it, the motion soothing and relaxing. “It’s okay, it really is. I was being a little child,” he softly chuckles. He holds onto your shoulders and gently pulls you back, looking into your eyes. “Just, don’t leave me again, yeah? I can’t do this life thing without you,”
You nod your head at his words, a soft smile taking over you as you feel your tears coming to a stop. “I promise to be by your side.” you say, your words firm.
“Always?” He asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
You sigh at his words, your smile still tugging on the corners of your lips.
“Always.”
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae
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ssaaaronmontgomery · 9 months
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Can I get Hotch accompanying a very nervous/anxious reader to the hospital? Either they’ve fallen sick at work or had an accident in the field but basically they shyly ask hotch to come with because he’s so sweet and kind and good at holding their hand when they need it ♥️
Hospitals
Warnings: Hospitals, injured ankle, reader feels a bit anxious, Hotch being sweet 🤭
Word count: 568
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader (no pronouns used)
A/n: Hehe yes my love<33. I'm not entirely happy with how this came out but I'm not entirely disappointed in the outcome either 😂. This was not proofread so there may be some mistakes.
Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau (I think I got you all 😂🩷)
The unsub had been successfully caught. The only issue was that you'd stumbled when you tackled him and twisted your ankle in the process. And it hurts like hell. No one had really noticed it during the take down.
Hospitals sort of freaked you out a bit. You didn't really like the idea of going to the hospital in the first place, let alone going by yourself. So who better to ask than Aaron Hotchner? Someone you've always been able to rely on since starting at the BAU and has for some reason always had a soft spot for you.
You'd been limping and wincing as you made your way over to Hotch. He was talking to Rossi about something so of course you waited patiently. Even though this definitely does not call for patience on your end.
Dave notices you first and points to you, causing Aaron to turn and face you. "Hotch uh, I sort of fell and um...could you come to the hospital with me please? I think I messed up my ankle. I don't want to go by myself." You mumbled it shyly. Upon hearing this, Hotch immediately had concern written all over his features. He moved closer and put a hand on your lower back then looked to see which leg you were currently favouring over the other. Supporting most of your weight on one foot. He moved your arm around his neck and helped support you with his arm now wrapped around your shoulders.
"Of course. Can you walk to the SUV?" You give him a small nod. Neither of you thought it really called for using the ambulance when there was at least one injury that was far worse than yours.
After telling Rossi to inform the team of what was going on, Hotch helped you get in the backseat and into a good position before driving you to the nearest hospital. It was a local case so he knew exactly where he was going.
Once you'd made it to the hospital and you had been placed in a room awaiting the results of the x-ray, Aaron could see how nervous you were about being there. He didn't know why and he didn't want to pry for information. So instead he gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, offering a small smile.
"How are you doing? Apart from the ankle."
"I'm alright. I'm just nervous. Hospitals...they aren't really my thing, you know?" Hotch gives a sympathetic nod and another gentle squeeze. "I understand that. Is there anything I can do to help?" You look away for a moment as you think and then turn back to him. "Could I have a hug?" He gives you a slightly bigger smile this time and leans in close to wrap his arms around you. "You can always have a hug, y/n." You both stay like this for a few seconds and then he pulls back, taking your hand in his again.
"Any better?"
"Very much. Thank you, Hotch. For coming here and sitting with me. And putting me at ease. You didn't have to but thank you for doing it anyway."
"I didn't have to, but I wanted to. I'm glad to."
Exchanging smiles once again, you're feeling much better now. Aaron has a way of calming you down and you're always grateful that he's willing to do so without hesitation.
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underoospeterparker · 3 months
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🫶 - HEART for which marauder you think would fit it! But like reader is embarrassed to take her medicine in front of whomever you pick. How would that go 🤔💕
welcome to my 300 celebration! (i chose james!)
James made his way into the kitchen, reaching up to see if you had any snacks in some of your drawers or cupboards. He took to the drawers first, and found absolutely nothing. "Sweetheart," he called out to the bedroom, "do we have anything to eat in here?"
It was a half-joke, but you responded, "maybe in one of the higher cupboards?"
He reached up eagerly, looking through your cupboards until he found one that made him stop. It was filled with, mostly empty, pill bottles, and he grew curious. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed one of the bottles closest to him and looked at the label. Sure enough, it had been addressed directly to you, to have twice a day. It looked like anxiety medication, which he knew because Remus took similar ones.
He made his way into your shared bedroom, leaning against the doorframe until you finally met his eyes. "Did you find-"
You got up from your chair and snatched the bottle from his extended hand. Your gaze left his to focus on a spot on the floor that wasn't half as interesting as him.
"Honey," he murmured, voice soft and quiet. "You wanna tell me why you've been hiding these?"
You were still fixated on the floor, now more on your matching fluffy socks. His large hands cupped your face, tilting it up to meet his eyes. "Hey," he cooed, when your eyes started to water. "Sweetheart, it's okay," he murmured, hands leaving your face to wrap his arms around you.
He pressed several kisses in your hair as you started to murmur something into his sweatshirt. You pulled away, knowing he couldn't possibly hear you when you were talking like that. "I don't know," you answered his earlier question, "why I've been hiding them from you." You paused. "Maybe I thought you wouldn't be okay with it."
You didn't elaborate, and his hold on you tightened slightly, just enough for you to notice. "You can't help it," he said. "Don't let anyone ever tell you that it's not okay. Promise me that," he added.
His gaze was serious. "I promise," you responded, leaning back into his warm hug.
"Good girl," he murmured into your hair. "Now, I'll get you a cup of water to have your medicine and we can watch a movie?"
You gave him a huge smile and a kiss on his cheek as he guided you out of the bedroom. "Sounds perfect."
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steph-speaks · 1 year
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🍟 - For Billy please!!
“You’re fucking perfect.”
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🍟 Diner: Send me a sentence + a character from my request list and I'll write you a little blurb!
When Life Gives You Lemons
Pairing: Billy Hargrove/Afab!Reader
Word Count: 1,820 Yeah, yeah, I know.
Warnings: Some light angst, but it smooths out towards the end.
Author's Note: Thanks for sending this in, sweetheart! I didn't know what themes you wanted to incorporate so I kept it pretty mellow. This is also in the same AU as my other Billy stuff. This particular blurby (omg I just found a new favorite word) is a follow-up to this one.
Summary: Billy runs into you at the grocery store, and despite the whirlwind of navigating life post-Mind Flayer, he finds himself craving more of your time.
Being Billy Hargrove wasn’t easy. 
After the events of Starcourt, word spread that Billy had been taken to Hawkins General, and subsequently, there were rumors that he had been involved in creating the fire, despite the press conference from Hawkins FD that stated otherwise. 
Live electrical conduits, my ass. He thought to himself.
Honestly, he wasn’t all that surprised at the lingering rumors. He had a reputation, and with certain reputations came consequences. 
He could bear those, and the suspicious looks that came with them. But the expressions of awe he would discover on little boys’ faces because they thought he was some badass that burned down a mall and got away with it? 
Not cool. 
Today was one such day, one where he found himself perusing the aisles of the grocery store and spacing out as he looked at the perfect little pyramids of fruit, trying to decide on what to get. His appetite had suffered since the Mind Flayer, like everything he ate had no flavor, no life to it. It fucking sucked.
He hears whispering off to his right and he glances over to see a group of three young middle-schoolers, trying to hide behind a display of cereal, and failing miserably. They look to be having a very heated discussion, as only middle-school-age boys are apt to have.
“Hey.” He says sternly, getting their attention. He doesn’t yell, hasn’t since the ‘accident’. He doesn’t have much to say, anyway. 
“The hell you standing around for?” He asks, and the kids straighten their hunched over backs and walk over to him, where he’s standing with a little plastic baggie in his fist. They look sheepish, but curious. 
“Um, are you Billy Hargrove?” One of them asks. He’s got braces, and Billy’s instantly reminded of Dustin Henderson and his annoyingly-endearing grin.
He looks away long enough to grab some lemons, his ring flashing in the obnoxious overhead lights. 
“Yeah, so?” He sees one of the boys eyeing his leather jacket, and he knows instantly how out of place he must look, in this squeaky-clean store with its waxed checkerboard floors and suburban couples browsing around for their bargains and their dish soap. He doesn’t recall a time after moving here to Hawkins that he ever cared about what people thought of him, but he knows that look. It’s the same idolizing, fanboy look all the guys in highschool used to have, because they wanted to be like him. Because they wanted to be him. 
Don’t do it kid. He wants to say. It’s not worth it.
“Did you really set fire to Starcourt?” The blonde one asks, and Billy feels like someone’s punched him. Because instead of being afraid of those words, those repercussions, this kid looks like he wants to do something equally dangerous. Like it's something cool and fun. 
“Don’t believe everything you hear, kid.” Billy narrows his eyebrows. 
“And for the record,” He takes a slow step forward, dropping his voice low as he points a finger at the kid's face. Poor thing looks terrified but he’s glued in place, his friends backing up and their eyes going wide. 
“If I ever hear about you trying to do some stupid shit like that, I’ll kick your skinny ass, you hear me?” The kid nods so fast that he messes up his perfect little bowl cut, and Billy bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “That shit ain’t cool, and neither is trying to be like someone else.” 
He hooks each kid with a death stare. “Got it?” 
When they all nod and crowd around each other, he tilts his head in dismissal. “Alright, scram.”
They run off, and Billy hears a small giggle on the other side of him. He’s expecting to see some girl from highschool, or someone else he probably won’t remember the name of, or even Mrs. Wheeler. 
God, he hopes it isn’t Mrs. Wheeler…
He’s not expecting to see you, a plastic basket filled with various items hanging from one arm and Max following. Neither of you are looking at him, and he briefly wonders if he’s ever seen his step-sister so happy before. 
He surmises it must be because of you, and not specifically because of the little box of pasta you’re trying to reach for on the top shelf. Wearing a tee that was tucked into your jeans to show off your belt, you look just as casual as you had when you brought over the cheesecake from El’s party last week. Billy feels a twinge of guilt at the memory, but he’s easily distracted.
“Little further,” Max grins. “You almost got it.” 
“Stop making me laugh.” You laugh anyway, standing on your tiptoes as you try to graze your fingers on that last little blue box. You just barely touch the corner, but it scoots back, further out of your reach. “Shoot!” You groan. “I really don’t want to go all the way back up front, just to ask for some help.”
“Want me to go ask?” Max offers, and you open your mouth to suggest giving her a boost, when you see her eyes widen and feel a crowding warmth against your back. You turn around and suddenly have the box in question being pressed gently into your hands, with Billy Hargrove towering over you. 
“Oh…hi.” You say softly. You think you see the corner of his lips turn up, before it vanishes and he looks exactly like how you’ve been seeing him. Blank, and maybe a little sad. But you also think you might be seeing a little spark of something in his eyes, like quiet acknowledgement. 
“Hi. Looked like you needed some help.” He explains. You nod and smile appreciatively. This is the most you’ve interacted with Billy since you left him a piece of El’s birthday cheesecake, and you’re surprised he’s making an effort to interact. 
“You’re a lifesaver.” You assure him, and he does smile this time, ducking his head, before he looks back up at Max. 
“Hey, kid.” 
“Hey.” She says, unsure. He looks just as hesitant so you decide to throw them a line, if not for their sakes, then for yours. 
“Um, I was going to make pasta for Max at my place, and we were going to watch some movies afterwards. Want to join us, as a thank you?” 
Max’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, her wide eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. Billy looks a little taken aback by your suggestion but he shakes his head, smoothing some of his rampant curls away from his temple. 
“Nah, I uh—” He looks down at his boots again and you can’t help but marvel at the change in his demeanor since Starcourt. It made you want to scoop him up and assure him that there were people that cared about him, no matter what he seems to think. 
“I have plans later.” He lies. It’s easier that way, but when he looks at your expectant face, you notice he’s clenching his jaw. You don’t press for fear of making him uncomfortable. He sees how observant you are, and he’s appreciative of the grace you have to leave it alone. Most people would have insisted. 
“Hey, I just remembered I have to grab something. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” Max asks you, and she doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s turning to run past an elderly couple with a shopping cart. 
“Always running somewhere.” Billy murmurs, and you adjust the basket on your arm, rattling some of the glass jars of tomato sauce, making you wince.
“Heavy?” He asks and you smile appreciatively, shifting on your hip. 
“A little. I want to make sure I have plenty of leftovers in case the kids come over.”
“Ah.” He nods, resting a hand on the shelf next to you. At the angle you were standing, if anyone else looked over at the two of you from the end of the aisle, it would seem like he was leaning over you.
“Those kids do love you, don’t they?” It seems like more of a statement when he says it like that. 
“They better, all the shit I put up with.” It’s out of your mouth before you can think it through, and he surprises you by belting out a genuine laugh, and you glimpse the piece of gum he’s been chewing the whole time. 
You chuckle, finding his laughter contagious. “Anybody ever tell you that you have a nice smile?”
He feels like he’s stopped breathing, and maybe he has, he can’t tell. Because he hasn’t ever been told that.
He instantly feels embarrassed, and maybe a little pissed at himself, because he doesn’t know why he feels that way.
“Well, look at you.” He gestures, scoffing as he feels his face burn. If you notice, you don’t mention it. “You’re fucking perfect.”
You laugh and shake your head, trying not to focus on the implications of what he’s just said, especially if he didn’t mean it like that. “I’m not perfect, Billy. Far from it.”
He likes the sound of your laugh, and he’s reminded again about the party he missed. The thought of you, supervising the havoc everyone probably wreaked, directing the kids to settle down for the night…his twinge of guilt swirls into something else, but he can’t decide what it is. 
He just knows it doesn’t feel as heavy when he’s around you. 
Max interrupts his trail of thought by rushing back with a box of something or other in her hands, but instead of throwing it in the basket, she opts to tuck it underneath her arms. 
“Okay, got it.” She grins at you, and you raise a brow at her in amusement but don’t ask. 
“Well,” You adjust our basket again. “It was good to see you, Billy. Maybe next time you can come hang out?” 
He finds himself nodding immediately, tucking a hand in his pocket. “Yeah, next time.”
Max gives him a small smile, her eyes lit up with something else Billy can’t name as you both say your goodbyes and turn to leave. He knows he should have offered to help you carry the basket, but he can’t bring himself to open his mouth again. Just like the other night, he simply watches you go. 
He’s about to turn around and look for some other items he needs at the trailer, but he notices you looking back, and giving him a little wave. He tilts his chin up and feels his lips tug at the corners, flashing you a grin. He hasn’t smiled genuinely since before Starcourt, and the fact that he can do it so easily with you makes his head spin. 
He’s already got it bad and he doesn’t even know. He also doesn’t notice a pair of watchful eyes lingering on his back, either.
Taglist:
@billlydear @bookshelf-dust @writethrough @18lkpeters @iloveyoubillyhargrove
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junipers-archive · 11 months
Note
Omg!!! Congrats for the 300 followers and the more to come 🥳🍾 Could I ask for "I know what the world can do to a girl who only see's the beauty in it." w/ Spencer having mirror kink (is that the right term? lol) especially when reader is riding him.. 🫠🫠 or anything else that comes out of the beautiful brain of yours. Everything is just chef's kiss coming from you. Thank you😘
gahhh yes love it. I'm thinking maybe season 7 spence voyering a bit into more a dominant roleee (also thank you, love thisss please send more 😩)
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"Fuck", Spencer couldn't help but hold back his groans as you bounced up and down on his cock, and you trying to hide your face in his neck couldn't either.
You had gone thrifting and found a large antique mirror to hang in your bedroom, which of course led to some of the best sex you've had in your life. Spencer had hung the mirror angled perfectly to see everything as he fucked you.
He was now sitting on the bed, guiding your hips roughly as you mewled, kissing his neck softly.
"M-more, please."you couldn't help but plead, he had slowed down to take in your beautiful body as it took him in but you'd already been so close.
"So greedy, thought you were my good girl?" he flips you over giving you what you asked for and taking you with your ass up, hitting your sweet spot at the perfect pace.
You moan loudly as you try to answer, "M'good girl", squirming under his tight grip that was sure to leave a mark.
"Yea? Well good girls use the things they buy, why don't you look at yourself in the mirror baby?" he pulls you upright then, supporting you by gripping your neck and squeezing slightly, causing you to whimper when you find the best view you've ever seen looking into a mirror.
Spencer was pounding in and out of you from behind, his hand was wrapped wonderfully around your throat and he was smirking as you clenched around him. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he sped up the pace making sure your gaze were on the two of you as you veered towards the edge of your orgasm with pleas of his name.
Ultimately it was his words that did you in, "Go ahead baby come for me, and look at yourself while you do it."
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(Join the celebration!!)
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nostalxgic · 1 month
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new pedro pascal character listings are up and running! you have your choice of pedro boys, from joel miller hole killer to the american whore javi peña to the minced meat special (im so sorry): agent whiskey himself!
just put who you would like after selecting for your size in personalization! full size versions of some of your options are below the cut! <3
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thank u for the immense amount of support u guys like....i cried multiple times in the past 2 weeks from the amount of love and support you've given me. these past 6 months have been fucking, rancid. rough. brutal. and much more.
but y'all given me so many reasons to keep going and honestly keep living.
okay bye i know it's my (pisces) season now but enough mushy shit MWAH!
mooty wooty 🏷️: @ilovepedro @honeyedmiller @party-hearses @littlegrungegirlaf @cool-iguana @sweetercalypso @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @pamasaur @joelsgreenflannel @joelsgreys @joelsversion @daydreamingmiller @undrthelights @tinygarbage @strang3lov3 @bastardmandennis @thot-of-khonshu @clickergossip @demonjoel @5oh5 @isitmeulookin4 @gracieheartspedro @amanitacowboy @hearteyesforjoel @pascalpvnk @for-a-longlongtime @beskarandblasters @saradika @cavillscurls @tieronecrush @persephone-girl @alwaysmicado @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
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pedrito-friskito · 2 years
Note
🦦🍑 I can’t get this idea out of my head. Imagine going on a road trip with Matt and he’s just going crazy being in a small space so all he can smell is you.
HI OK OK so I also couldn’t get this idea out my head (I apologize for taking so long but the struggle has been real but here we go!) and then it refused to leave and then it got really feral so this is definitely more 🍑 than 🦦 but THAT’S OKAY
thank you darling! ❣️
take me to church - matt murdock x fem!reader
warnings: a tinge of fluff, mostly porn w/ a smidge of plot, oral (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v (wrap ur shit this is a fantasy), matt’s a feral little fuck and I make no apologies
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(I don’t remember where I got the gif and I’m sorry but FUCK)
✨kay’s 300 follower celebration✨
My lover’s got humour,
She’s a giggle at a funeral.
Knows everybody’s disapproval,
I should’ve worshipped her sooner.
Matt’s been distracted for hours. And the music? This music, the seductive tone of the singer, the echo of the piano reaching his ears and touching an itch in the back of his brain he didn’t realize needed scratching. It’s not helping. In fact, he’d wager it was making things exponentially worse.
Matt’s been preoccupied with how hard he’s been since he got in your car, basically, cooped up in the small space, unable to escape from the cloying, intoxicating scent of you. He can’t get away from it, can’t escape it, and the lure of you, how drawn he is to you on a regular day, only makes him want you more.
He doesn’t know what it is. Did you change your perfume, your laundry detergent? Has it just been too long since he’s been this close to you? He doubts the latter; he’d made you cum with his head between your thighs not twenty-four hours ago, slipping through your window on a break from his patrol, black mask discarded on your bedroom floor while he pulled you out of sleep in the most delicious of ways. If he thinks hard enough, he can still taste your slick on his tongue, feel and hear the rush of blood through your thighs hooked around his ears.
It’s not that, no. Not that he’s ever had his fill of you, really and truly, but there is something different today. Maybe it’s the space. This is your first road-trip together, after all, and he’s never been in such tight quarters with you for so long before. He’s got one hand braced on his thigh, nails digging into his sweats so hard he’s surprised he hasn’t broken skin, and the other is slung across the console, fingers intertwined with yours.
You have your eyes on the road, apparently oblivious to the tent in his sweats and the flush up the back of his neck. You hum along to the song at first, one hand on the wheel while the one holding Matt’s rubs circles across his pulse, the pad of your thumb pressing down lightly. It makes his eyes flutter.
And then you start singing.
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife.
Offer me that deathless death.
Oh, good God, let me give you my life.
If it’s possible, he strains harder. Your voice fills the space, bouncing off the padded walls of the car, a symphony in perfect time with the blood rushing through Matt’s head. His hand curls into a fist on his thigh and he lets his head thud back against the headrest.
The good God, that’s what got him. Your fingers wrap around his forearm and Matt can’t stop himself from groaning, hips lifting off the seat.
“Matty, you like this song?” you call, your words almost an echo. “What’s gotten into you?”
What little restraint he has left snaps, and he yanks at the seatbelt, keeping it in place but giving himself enough room to get close to you, reaching across the console to fit himself against your shoulder, head lolling into your neck. He grips the back of your seat with one hand, the other reaching down and fitting itself between your legs.
When he realizes you’re wearing shorts, the fabric flowy and dangerously soft against his hands, he moans into your ear, the sound unabashed and filled with lust. “What are you doing to me, sweetheart?”
Your breath hitches, and he hears it, along with the jump in your heartbeat as he drags his lips along your pulse. “Y-you should have said something,” you stutter out, moving your hands so they both grip the steering wheel tightly. “I could have pulled over a long time ago.”
“What’s stopping you now?”
“We’re almost there, Matthew,” you murmur, mouth dropping into a gasp when he moves his fingers up your hot thighs, dives right under the seam of your shorts. “Wouldn’t you rather have your way with me in a bed than in the backseat of my car?”
“Dunno if I can wait that long,” he whispers against your throat. “Need you so badly.”
The song is still playing.
That looks tasty.
That looks plenty.
This is hungry work.
You’re not wearing any underwear. 
“Are you joking?”
“T-ten — ah! — ten minutes, I swear.” The words cut off in place of a moan when he dips two fingers into your slit, finding you wet and hot and everything he’s been thinking about since the day he met you. Your thighs go tight around his hand, enough so that he can feel your muscle against his forearm. The pads of his fingers glance around your entrance, teasing enough to have you lifting your ass off the seat, chasing his hand. “Matthew Murdock, if you try and make me cum in this car, there is a very good chance we will crash, and that is not the way I wanna go.”
Matt pulls his hand back, lifting his fingers to his mouth and licking the taste from them before his hand settles on your thigh again, hot skin on hot skin.
“Ten minutes.”
He feels the shift in your leg, and the car accelerates a little faster. Matt grins against your throat.
Take me to church.
You kill the engine ten minutes later, as promised, and every one of Matt’s remaining senses kicks into overdrive. He’s out of the car in a moment, all but sprinting around to your side, pulling you out as soon as your door is open. You squeak as he hoists you into his arms, and Matt’s eyes roll back as the scent of you engulfs him like a tidal wave, the almost overwhelming smell of your arousal filling his nose.
The small cottage you’ve arrived at once belonged to your grandparents, has been in your family for years, and your parents were kind enough to lend it out so the two of you could have a weekend away out of the city. Later, there’ll be time for stories, for you to tell him about the summers you spent here when you were young, the games you played on the docks and the evenings spent out on the water.
There’ll be time for that later. Right now, he needs you. Desperately.
“Bedroom?” he asks as soon as he steps through the door, you still held easily in his arms, hands locked around his shoulders.
“Straight ahead,” you say, your head dropping into the curve of his neck, lips seeking out his pulse point. He groans when you sink your teeth in just enough, scraping along his jugular and letting your tongue soothe the ache it leaves behind. It’s a good ache, one that zips straight to his cock, making it twitch in his sweats as he carries you easily down the hallway, one hand trailed along the wall, the other holding you against him.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry or something?” you ask as he steps through the doorway, fingers folding over the door jamb. It’s a few feet to the bed, and Matt turns as he steps, sinking onto the edge of the mattress and adjusting his grip on you, both hands sliding down to your ass. “We were driving for a long time, I could—”
“No, no, you don’t understand, sweetheart,” he growls into your throat. His hands have gone from cupping your ass to squeezing, and he can feel the goosebumps rising on your skin, the chill that twists down your spine. “You are in my veins. I need to taste you. I need to feel you. Now.”
He dives his hands beneath the hem of your shorts, the fabric giving way against his knuckles, giving him access to the bare curve of your ass, long fingers deftly seeking out your warmth and heat as they had in the car. He groans to find you just as wet and wanting, and you reach up, pulling his glasses from his face and putting them somewhere safe. Your palms settle on his cheek, thumbs swiping the planes of his face, and Matt shudders when you start to trail kisses across his brow, eyes dropping closed as your lips caress his lids, making his lashes flutter.
“I woulda taken you on a road trip ages ago if I’d known it’d get you this hot and bothered,” you whisper between kisses, giggling as you speak. Matt grins, cocking his head back so he can kiss your cheek, your lips.
“You just smell so good,” he murmurs into you, savouring the gasp in your throat when one of his fingers finds your centre, dipping in just to the first knuckle. “And so wet, sweetheart, always so wet for me.”
“Uh-huh,” you whimper, your back arching as your hips try to chase his finger, desperate for more than what he’s giving you, but he moves with you, refusing to give you anything further just yet. “Matty, stop teasing.”
“And what were your intentions,” he retorts, mouth glancing along your jaw, a second finger joining the first, still just to his first knuckle, “wearing these little shorts and no panties, huh?”
Your words are gone now, turned to moans that echo behind his teeth as he sinks them into your bottom lip. He can hear the blood rushing through your body, your skin warming against his with every little touch he gives you. Your scent swirls through the room with every shift of your bodies, the richness of it sitting heavily in the back of his throat, making his tongue loll out of his mouth so he can taste it on the air.
Matt’s tired of waiting.
With no warning save for a sharp squeeze of your ass, he pushes both fingers in, straight to the hilt, pulling a keening noise from your throat that makes his chest swell with pride. No one else gets to hear you make those noises, just him. Just your Matty. It takes two thrusts for the pads of his fingers to drag along that spongy spot inside you, your slick easing his movements, your whole body stuttering as he caresses the spot.
Your hands dive into his hair as Matt stands, still holding you in his lap, fingers still deep inside you, and turns, tilting you back onto the bed a moment later. He bends at the waist, lowering his head between your thighs. He refuses to pull his fingers from you now, so he pulls the crotch of your shorts to the side, baring you to him, your scent hitting him like a truck with no barrier to stifle it.
You shout his name at the first touch of his tongue, and Matt’s eyes roll back in his head as his tastebuds explode with the tang and sweetness he’s only ever found between your legs. He moves his fingers in time with his tongue, laving and lapping at you like you’re the only thing on earth that could quench his thirst, could quell the lust and longing surging through his veins.
You are.
The orgasm hits you quick and hard, your knees locking around his head as you flood Matt’s fingers, the smell of you growing impossibly more intense. He groans into you, licking up whatever he can get, tongue coated with the very essence of you.
He pulls his fingers from you only to push them between his lips. He can feel you watching him, your elbows sliding against the blanket so you can prop yourself up and get a better angle. You use the break to shove your shorts off; Matt feels the mattress shift further, hears the whip of fabric past his head after a moment. Then you’re sliding closer to him, legs bracketing his knees, hands reaching for the band of his sweats. He hisses as you pull the band down over his ass, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. Your fingers trail along the length of it a second later, and he growls, the sound echoing through the room.
“Well, you’ve tasted me,” you say softly, your voice dripping with seduction and lust and everything that’s been swirling through Matt’s brain for…how long? He’s lost track of time at this point. “Don’t you want to feel me?”
Something in Matt snaps then, and now he’s genuinely tired of waiting, of teasing. He needs you right now, needs to feel you wrapped around him this instant. He might go mad if he doesn’t.
He curls a hand around your calf, yanking it across until you’re flipped onto your stomach. You catch on quick, sliding onto your knees and lifting your ass. Matt inhales sharply, leaning forward to plant his hands on either side of you, leaving a trail of kisses up your spine, breath stuttering as his cock drags along your slit.
“C’mon, Matty,” you say lowly, turning your head just as Matt sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder blade. “Enough with the teas—”
You never finish the sentence. Matt adjusts his hips against your ass, curling his tailbone, and sinks into your heat in one fell swoop. Your words turn to an almost-scream of his name, your head dropping between your shoulders ass he rolls his hips into you, his cock dragging along every drenched nerve within you. He slings one arm around your middle, keeping your back against his chest as he starts to thrust, the room filled with the sounds of skin-on-skin, the wet glide of his cock, and the hitches in your breath every time he slides inside.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his grip tight at your ribs, and after a moment, he straightens, pulling you up with him, both arms around you now, hips still canting against you, cock disappearing into you with every thrust. “Like you were made for me.”
“I was,” you breathe, your head tilting back on his shoulder. “You just took your sweet time finding me.” Your hands lift to cover his, and Matt gives you a sloppy kiss, following the warmth of your breath until he can taste it.
He holds you impossibly closer, kissing the breath from your lungs and tasting every moan you have to offer. Your hips roll back against his, sucking him deeper inside and Matt adjusts his grip, one arm banded around your waist, the other hand reaching up to curl around your throat, just tight enough to make you gasp.
“Well, I did find you,” he murmurs to you, mouth at your ear as he rocks into you, “and I’m gonna stay buried in you until the end of time, you hear me?”
It’s cheesy, and Matt can feel the grin on your face as you tilt your head to the ceiling. “That’s quite the confession, Matthew.”
He gives you a particularly harsh thrust, hips snapping into your ass, and his grip drops, hand moving to the wetness between your legs, deft fingers finding your clit like it’s a homing beacon. It’s overwhelming, the feeling. The scent and the taste and the push and the pull, it’s almost unbearable. Almost. Your bodies feed off each other like some sort of cosmic equation; he fits too perfectly, you hold him too exactly.
But you love him just right.
And it’s those three whispered words from your lips, drenched in adoration and a touch of desperation, that send him over the edge. Your fingers fold around his wrist as he rubs you just enough, pulling sounds from you that are a symphony to his ears. Muscles tensing, you nearly bow forward, but his grip on your throat keeps you in place. Matt buries his nose in your neck, inhaling deeply as the pheromones and sweat pour off your skin, landing on his tongue and filling his nose.
Matt cums harder than he ever has.
He’s pretty sure he blacks out, his body roiling with pleasure so intense he can’t tell up from down or left from right. He’s vaguely conscious of his forehead being pressed against your spine, hands gripping your hips like a lifeline while your fingers cover his.
“I’ve got you, Matty,” he hears you say. “I’ve always got you.”
He comes down from the high a few minutes later, dimly aware that you’ve manoeuvred him down onto the bed and into your arms, that your calf is slotted between his thighs, and you’re running your fingers through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands away from his forehead before dropping a kiss to his skin. He blinks slowly, leaning into your touch as much as possible, and you hum happily.
“We should go get cleaned up,” you say softly, but you make no move to get up, and Matt shakes his head.
“Not yet.”
“Okay,” you agree, dropping another kiss to his forehead. He sinks into your touch, revelling in it, wishing he could bottle the feeling and save it for a rainy day, for a time when you’re not within reach, when he can’t find this kind of euphoria.
You don’t stop your movements, and Matt swears he could fall asleep right then and there, but, teetering on the edge, he calls your name.
“Yeah?”
“I love you, too,” he says softly, and hears the happy pickup in your heart, the little squeak that echoes through your throat. “In case it wasn’t obvious.”
Good God, let me give you my life.
—————
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matt murdock tags: @saintmurd0ck @lazyxsquirrel @moonlarking @mindidjarin @freshabogados @steadyasthe-flowers @whosfrankie @ancientbeing10 @plutoneu @grounderprincesslookspissed @hoewkeyesblue @simple_lovebot @glowstick-lesbian @itwasthereaminuteago @williamjzanders @e-dubbc11 @lunarpenumbra @minxsblog @bluestuesday @eatommo @a-zterisk @randomwords3000 @i-simp-much @kirsteng42 @loonymagizoologist @pariahsparadise @greeneyedblondie44 @sparklysandstorm @dead-pool-simp @ruhro7 @alyona-romanova @dropsofprecipitation @peterman-spideyparker @hellskitchenswhore @inthehouse0fflies @shadowzena43 @arson-tm @apageinthecastle @december16-1991 @urmomdotcom5678
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writingwhimsey · 2 months
Note
Hello!
Congrats for the milestone, and cheers to many more!! :D
If the requests are still open... Could I ask for Clavis + Blind Date + Crack Fic?
Thank you in advance and congrats once more! 🙈
Sorry it has taken me so long to answer this and thank you so much for the ask and the support. Without further ado, here we are with some more Clavis crack! I hope you enjoy!
A Blind Date...Literally
“I can’t believe I agreed to this.” Emma murmured to herself as she stood at the entrance to the local tavern. “But those gifts and letters seemed genuine and heartfelt…I guess I should at least see who my secret admirer is.”
Emma did have to admit that it was a bit exciting and very flattering. She had come with the intentions of letting whoever it was down easy. She didn’t really have time for such things right now, being Belle and all. She barely managed to squeeze in time for this meeting, the way Sariel had been working her and the way she’d been meeting with all of the princes… Clavis especially keeping her on her toes.
Emma opened the door and walked inside, heading to the bar as the letter had instructed. The barkeep smiled at her. “You must be Emma?”
“Yes. I’m supposed to be meeting someone…”
The barkeep nodded and gave her a sheepish smile. “He’s waiting in the private room for you.” He explained. “And uh…well he asked me to give you this. Said you should put it on before going inside.”
Emma took the object the barkeep held out and looked at it. It was just a black scrap of cloth. “What in the world am I supposed to do with this?”
“It’s a blindfold.” The barkeep said. “Your mystery man said something about…uh…a blind date.”
Emma blinked. “What…” It was then that she recalled a conversation she’d had in the palace just a few days ago when she had asked for leave to attend a friend from town’s wedding. The friend had met her groom on a blind date. Emma had told this to Sariel, Rio, and Clavis. “He wouldn’t…” She murmured.
“You want me to tell him you changed your mind?” The barkeep asked.
Emma sighed. “No. I’ll go.” She said, heading to the back room of the tavern. She stood outside the door a moment, looking down at the blindfold in her hands. She debated internally for quite some time before finally sighing. “Ugh…I can’t believe he’s getting me to go along with his stupid plans once again…” She muttered putting on the blindfold before feeling for the doorknob and letting herself in.
“Ah, there you are.” The familiar voice said. “I knew you’d come,..or at least I hope it’s you, Emma.”
“Wait, how do you not know?” Emma asked.
Clavis chuckled. “I’m blindfolded, too.” He answered.
“How do you know I’m wearing mine?” Emma asked.
“I heard you fumbling for the doorknob.” Clavis answered. “Also, I know you. You wanted to have some fun and this sounded like fun.”
Emma sighed. “You know, blind date isn’t usually so…literal.”
“I know, but it wouldn’t really be a blind date in the traditional sense because we already know each other.” Clavis explained.
Emma could hear the sound of a chair scraping the floor. She then heard movement and soon a couple of footsteps before Clavis let out an, “Oof…” as something smacked loudly against something else.
“Clavis…?”
“I’m…alright.” Clavis replied. Footsteps, this time slower and what sounded like hands moving over everything. It was moments later Emma felt a hand on her arm. 
“That had better be you, Clavis.” She said, her tone slightly irritated.
“I promise it is me.” Clavis replied, his hand sliding down her arm and taking her hand. “Now allow me to help you to your seat.”
“I can’t believe I’m still going along with this.” Emma muttered with a sigh.
Emma could hear and feel Clavis moving next to her and soon his hand was bringing hers up and she soon felt it resting in the crook of his elbow. She reached out with her free hand, trying to find anything she could use to help feel her way through the darkness. With the way Clavis had stumbled to her, she couldn’t depend on him to safely lead her to her chair…and she was right.
The pair stumbled their way to the table. They knew when they had reached the table when they both collided with it. “Ow…Clavis, we should just take these off…”
“Now, now where would the fun be in that?” Clavis replied. “Come, have a seat.” Emma could hear the sound of Clavis fumbling before a chair was scraping across the floor. 
Emma sighed once again and reached her hand out, feeling for the chair. Once she was certain of the chair’s position, Emma cautiously began to lower herself onto the cushion.
Clavis reached a hand out, intending to place it on her back as a helpful guide…but landing a bit too low. 
“Clavis, that is NOT my back.” Emma scolded.
“My apologies.” Clavis replied, not at all sounding apologetic.
“I swear if you’re not actually wearing a blindfold…”
Emma was interrupted by the feel of Clavis’s hand on hers and the sensation of her hand being picked up until her fingertips were resting on his face. He guided her fingers over his face, allowing her to get a feel of his chin, cheek, nose, and then the gentle silk that rested over his eyes.
“Well…okay…But if you do something like that again, I am taking mine off and treating you to the famous Belle slap.”
“That’s tempting.” Clavis replied and Emma could hear the grin in his voice, seeing it clearly in her mind’s eye.
Once Emma had been seated, Clavis felt his way around the table before going to his seat. Moments later a waiter was bringing in food and drink.
“It’s Cyran, isn’t it?” Emma asked.
“Yes, it is me, my lady.” Cyran spoke. “None of the actual waiters wanted to go along with Clavis’s plan.”
“Some people are just afraid of trying something new.” Clavis replied.
Cyran was leaning down to whisper in Emma’s ear. “If you want out of this at any point, just say the word and I’ll come in here and get you out.”
“Thank you, Cyran.” Emma replied, a genuine smile coming to her face.
Clavis frowned. “Alright, alright. Now come let us have some fun.” He declared. “And I promise this will be a good time.”
“I just know I’m going to end up with something on me…or injured.” Emma replied.
“I would never allow harm to come to my lady. I am a gentleman afterall.” Clavis retorted.
Emma could hear Cyran leaving, but she was aware of his presence outside the door. “So, what is this all about, Clavis?” Emma asked.
“You’ve been working so hard, I thought you deserved a reward.” Clavis replied. “All work and no play…”
Emma sighed. “Alright…so is this food from the tavern or…”
“My creations, of course.” Clavis replied, very proud and confident.
Emma sighed. “Well…at least I won’t be able to see how terrible it looks.” She muttered. She was then feeling at the table in front of her, looking for her cutlery and plate. She could hear the sounds of Clavis doing the same.
It took Emma a moment to get her bearings…and there were a few dropped bites of food, but she managed.
“Oh dear…another one…” Clavis muttered.
“Are you dropping your food?” Emma asked.
“It is a bit harder to adjust than I thought.” Clavis admitted. 
Emma laughed and shook her head. “We could just…”
“No, we will get through this. There are plenty of people who are blind from birth and they manage just fine.” Clavis replied. 
“You do have a point.” Emma replied. “But they’ve had more time to adjust.”
“We’ll be fine.” CLavis replied. “New experiences are fun. Besides are you not the one who was talking about how romantic blind dates are?”
Emma sighed. “I can’t win with you can I?”
“Oh, of course you are winning with me.” Clavis replied. 
The pair continued their meal, keeping a light conversation going. After a bit Emma heard more movement and what sounded like people entering the room. The next thing she knew, music was being played.
“Ah, right on time.” Clavis said, clapping his gloved hands together.
“Right on time for what?” Emma asked.
“For us to share a dance, of course.” Clavis replied and Emma could picture the gleeful grin on his face.
“Oh…Clavis…no…”
Clavis was already getting up and following the sound of Emma’s voice to stand in front of her. He held out his hand. “Come now, we can’t have a date without a dance.”
Emma sighed. “Alright…” She was then reaching out, trying to find Clavis’s hand…what neither of them realized is that his back was to her and her hand ended up grasping his butt.
“Oh my, this Belle is very forward.” Clavis said with a laugh.
Emma felt her cheeks heating up. She bet money that Clavis could be able to see the glow even through his blindfold. “Clavis, you idiot…you’re the one with your back to me.”
Clavis was laughing as he turned, his hand finding Emma’s. “Now, now no need to be shy.” He said as he pulled her to her feet.
“Just for that I am not apologizing for stepping on your toes.” Emma replied.
Clavis pulled Emma close, his hand going to rest on her waist…well attempting to and brushing against her bust instead.
“Clavis…”
“Dearie me, we keep having these problems.” Clavis replied, once again not sounding at all apologetic. “I will do better, I swear. I am a gentleman.”
“Gentleman my ass.” Emma muttered, grabbing Clavis’s hand and guiding it to her waist. “And no that was not an invitation.”
Clavis chuckled as he slowly began to move them along in the dance. “Now you’ve nothing to worry about. I really am a gentleman.” He told her.”I swear my hands will not go anywhere they shouldn’t…on purpose.”
Emma laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re terrible.”
The pair seemed to move relatively well together. There was a bit of stumbling…and Emma did step on Clavis’s toes a few times…only one time was on purpose.
“Aren’t you having fun?” Clavis asked.
“Okay, maybe this is a little fun.” Emma replied. “Though I would step on your toes less if we took these ridiculous blindfolds off.”
“You keep bringing up taking them off, do you really miss seeing my handsome face that much?”
“As if.” Emma scoffed. “I just…”
Before Emma could finish her sentence, the pair were colliding with the table and began to fall. Emma felt Clavis move his arms around her waist and shift them so that he would land on the bottom and break her fall…of course the table tumbled as well and the food and drinks all landed on Emma as she was on top.
Emma pushed herself up, her hand going to remove the blindfold as she looked down at Clavis who had let out an “Oof…” at their landing
“I was trying to avoid this,” Emma said, glaring at Clavis as he reached up to take off his blindfold. 
Clavis gave her a playful pout. “Not even asking if I’m alright and after I took the brunt of the fall.”
“A fall we wouldn’t have had if you had not done this ridiculous idea in the first place.” Emma pointed out. “And look at my dress…you deserve a bruised backside and…” Emma stopped mid rant as she became aware of the devilish grin on Clavis’s face. “What?”
“You still haven’t gotten up, which means you must enjoy being close to me like this.” Clavis replied, gesturing to her body still lying on top of his.
Emma smacked his chest. “Oh you…” She said, her cheeks red as she pushed herself up. She then sighed as she reached her hand out to Clavis. “Here, let me help you up.”
Clavis smiled. “I knew you couldn’t resist my charms.”
Emma rolled her eyes, but the look was betrayed by her smiling lips. Somehow she always managed to have fun with Clavis…but she would never admit it.
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yuri-is-online · 8 months
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Congrats on 300! You more than deserve it. If it’s alright, could you write Jealousy pt. 2 for Idia and Vil? Thanks <3
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9. Jealousy pt. 2- someone from a rival school asks for your number
Thank you very much friend (╥﹏╥) Of course I can, I hope you like it!
notes: notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, mild RSA slander, reference to the events of chapter 5 (Vil). If you saw this post for the .3 seconds I posted it before it was done baking I am so sorry. Check out the rest of the event requests on my masterlist here.
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Idia
"Thank you so much for showing me around." The RSA boy has been strangely polite to you and Idia ever since you intervened in their... "conversation." Not that he has been exactly paying attention to the very tall very blue boy who has been hovering around you looking for a good moment to cut in. "The NRC layout is just so different to what I'm used to." he laughs awkwardly and you involuntarily look at Idia.
"Hope it stays that way." He mutters and you try to avoid making any noise of agreement in hopes it doesn't provoke any more arguing between them. The RSA kid pretends not to notice, but the smile that spreads across his face suggests he thinks Idia's grumbling makes him look better somehow. You know his attempt at moving closer to you when you take out your phone certainty doesn't.
"Um, I'd like a chance to thank you properly, but I don't think we'll get a chance to see each other again during the fair..."
"Yeah I'm going to be pretty busy." You state, really hoping he gets the point.
[yuu] run
[idia] ???
[idia] and just leave u with sir scam a lot? nah
"Could I have your number then?" He asks, completely unaware that there are two introverts begging for the release of death in front of him.
"Nah sorry I don't have a phone." You can't find the meme you want to send Idia so you settle on a string of hearts while he tries to avoid laughing in the other guys extremely confused face.
[idia] cute
Vil
Vil has never once wished to be anyone other than exactly who he was. Why would he? The amount of work he had put in to commanding the attention he did would be pointless if he wanted to throw it all away and be somebody else. He should be secure in his position... he is secure in his position... that's why he finds this entire situation so... annoying.
"Yuu! I'm surprised you decided to participate in the VDC, you said you weren't going to." Neige had turned his attention to you as soon as he was done speaking to Rook, who looks just as flabbergasted as you do that the idol was speaking to you.
"I'm sorry but I don't think we've met?" You are clearly confused, and Vil wants to think entirely too concerned with his condition to spare the other boy a single thought. But still, like a worm working it's way to the core of an apple, Neige moves happily over to you trying to rot what little Vil can still claim as entirely his.
"I wasn't dressed as nicely last time sorry," he is clearly genuinely disappointed "we met when you came with the NRC Headmage to talk about the VDC, remember?" You blink, looking between Neige and Grim in increasing confusion. "I forgot to tell you my name, I've been thinking about it a lot... I really wanted to ask for your number so I could talk to you again."
"I don't really remember sorry, did you change your hair or something?" This is getting increasingly awkward for everyone but Neige who weathers it all with a smile as Vil tries to push down the implications of how pleased this development makes him feel.
Serves you right brat, Vil knows that Yuu will never forget meeting him.
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300 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🤞+ "im just a girl" with peterrrr -🎀
--word count: 0.2k
--warnings: nothing, but fluff. one cheek kiss, but that's all:)
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“I’m just a girl.” You’re lying on his chest while a random movie plays as background noise. 
Peter cocks his head back in confusion, slightly chuckling before he responds, “Uhh, what?” 
“I’m literally just a girl,” your expression is dead serious too, making Peter even more confused than he already was. 
“So,” his eyes darted back and forth, “you bite my arm, I yell out in shock, and then you respond with, ‘I’m just a girl’?”
Thinking about it for a second, just to make sure he got it all right, you respond, “Yep! Pretty much, baby!” You snuggle further into his chest as he decides to let it go, the movie distracting him from the rest of the conversation. 
Fifteen minutes pass before Peter speaks up again, “Wait, isn’t that kind of misogynistic and not cool?” 
You giggle, he’s obviously thinking too hard into the entire phrase, but mentally applaud him for looking out for you and all the women in his life. “If that’s what you’re really worrying about, it’s not I swear. If it was, I wouldn’t be saying it,” you look up at him, placing a kiss on his cheek, “but thanks for being a good guy and thinking about it in more ways than one.”
--author's note: something silly because i say this all the time LOL. another sickly sweet ask from 🎀 anon!! liking, commenting, and reblogging really helps me as a writer btw!! don't forget, i have my 300 follower celebration going on, and if you would like...send something in!!! ok, ily bye<333.
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winterrrnight · 5 months
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BESTIE, CONGRATS ON 300 !! i’m so freaking happy for you. you deserve this so so much 🤍. i’m so in love with all of the fics you’ve written so far.
i’m here to request: meet me in the hallway. choose out of drew, rafe, & zach + a prompt.
ofc i’m gonna choose my bby zach with #29
i luv uuu 🤍
thank you so so much anna!! I love you so much, thank you for all your love and support <3 this request has me on my knees with how cute it turned out to be, I hope you love reading it!
a beautiful, drunken mess
PAIRING: zach maclaren x gn!reader
SUMMARY: your best friend needs to call your knight in shining armor when you get a little too drunk
WARNINGS: alcohol consumption
EDITH SPEAKS: OH MY GOD yes we're kickstarting my 300 celly fic requests!! I've gotten so so many requests and I swear I'm so excited to write each one of them. I got late to starting on these because my hectic schedule and my writer's block got the best of me, but I'm back :))
Please reblog if you liked this!! feedback is always appreciated 🫂
PROMPT REQUESTED: "you sleep with the stuffed animal I got you?" "of course."
300 followers celebration || navigation
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You've never been one to party hard and get so drunk you can't see clearly in front of yourself. But when you finally pass some of the toughest exams you've ever had to give, you knew you wanted to party till you can't breathe.
And that's what you did. The biggest frat party happening in a rich kid's home from your university has adrenaline coursing through your veins as you don't think twice before taking a shot.
In fact, you got carried away so much, that your best friend Tessa who is literally known to be the biggest party animal in your whole university, is concerned for you.
"Give me that," she grunts, taking the millionth cup you were about to down. You pout, trying to get it back, but the alcohol has made your mind all fuzzy and you aren't very sure what exactly you're trying to do.
"Who knew you had this hidden side?" Tessa says, shaking her head as she takes your hand and leads you out to the garden of the big house. You try your best to stop her from dragging you, but your drunken power is no match for her quite sober one.
"Tess come on! I'm not done yet," you huff, your arms crossed across your chest as you see Tessa is basically blocking the door.
"Nuh uh, not today," she says, pulling out her phone. "You need to get home, like right now,"
You groan out loud, and you attempt to simply walk on the lush grass you're both standing at, but you greatly miscalculate your steps and fall on the grass, head first.
Tessa rushes up to you, asking you over and over if you're okay. You just look up at her and start giggling constantly.
"I'm okay," you say in between your giggles, your own mistake having you amused. Tessa sighs at you and quickly finds the contact in her phone she was trying to find, before you decided to take a fall.
She impatiently taps her foot, waiting for the person who's supposedly on the end of the phone to pick up.
"Hello?"
Finally.
"Zach hi!"
"Tessa, you okay?"
"Yeah, I just need you to come and get your... thing," she says, looking at you lying on the ground and looking up the stars as you hum to a melody.
Zach laughs on the other end. "What happened?"
"Too drunk, can't even see straight," Tessa groans. "You need to come over right now."
"I'm on my way."
Tessa lets out a sigh of relief on hearing those words. She turns towards you, and lets her hand out for you to grab onto.
"Come on, Zach is coming to pick you up," she says, helping you stand up, in a not so graceful fashion.
Hearing the word 'Zach' lightens a light bulb in your head. "Zach? Where's Zach? I need my Zach," you slur, trying to run around the garden, as if he's standing right there and you just can't see him. Tessa has a hard time but she finally catches up to you, firmly grips your hand to make sure you don't run off and do something stupid again.
"He's coming, okay?" She huffs out, holding onto you tightly. She's expecting you to throw some sorts of tantrum, to complain how your boyfriend actually is here and she's just hiding him on purpose, but instead, you only nod obediently.
Tessa hears footsteps approaching you both, and just as she turns around, she swears she could've have cried out of happiness.
Zach is standing there, looking at the two of them with a smile on his face.
"Zach!" You yell excitedly, as you run (or, try to run) to him. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"Hey baby," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you on your lips. You sigh at the feeling of his soft lips on yours, your eyes fluttered close and a million butterflies prancing around in your stomach.
"Thank you Tessa, we'll be going home now," Zach acknowledges the girl standing at the back, letting you both enjoy your moment. She nods with a smile on her face and goes back inside to the rest of the party, and Zach leads you back out to his car.
He definitely has a struggle settling you in the car seat and buckling your seat belt, as you've never been this drunk before and it's also his first time taking care of super-drunk you.
But, he doesn't hate it or finds it to be a difficult task. You're sitting in the seat next to him, saying little cute things that have his heart racing.
"You're so cute Zach, you always take such good care of me," you pout, poking his bicep. He laughs at you, and you continue to praise him.
"You're just," you sigh, "perfect. I couldn't have someone as perfect as you."
You definitely weren't aware of what you were saying, but Zach knows you being drunk isn't the only time you'll say these words to him. You love to constantly drop little phrases to let him know you do appreciate him and every single thing he does for you.
Both of you being relatively a new couple, it does take a big toll on you both because you aren't used to saying or listening to such kind words so often, but you both also know you wouldn't want to share this with anyone else.
"We're home," he looks at you with a smile on his face, as he gets out of his car, runs up to your side and helps you out. With an arm looped around your shoulders to help you maintain your balance, he leads you in to your home.
He takes you in to your room, and gently lets you lay down on your bed. It's a bit of a struggle, but he finally gets you to remove your outfit and replace it with a more comfortable one.
"Thank you Zach," you say, as he tucks you in your warm duvet. He leans in to press a kiss to your nose, and makes a mental note to leave a glass of water and an advil on your bedside table before he leaves.
As he is about to walk out, you call him out and stop him from leaving.
"What happened?" He asks, his hand on the light switch.
"I, I need Arlo, can you find him please he isn't here," Zach is confused on hearing these words, but when he sees tears starting to brim in your eyes, he knows this Arlo is important.
"Arlo? Babe I'm afraid I don't understand," he asks you, walking closer to you.
"Can you check under the bed please?"
Zach isn't sure what he's looking for, but he'll do anything for you. He leans down on his knees and looks below the bed, and of course, he makes out a silhouette of some stuffed toy under the bed. He reaches his hand out to grab onto it, and when he sees it, he realises he knows exactly what it is.
For one of your first dates, Zach took you to your local city carnival. He was determined to get you a good toy from any game, just like any good boyfriend would (his words, not yours), and after loads of struggle, a lot of pennies and many comforting hugs and words from you, he finally wins you one.
It's a little brown colored dinosaur stuffed toy, and Zach had no idea how attached you would get to it.
"You sleep with the stuffed animal I got you?" He asks, handing it to you as you take it and brush off the dust off it.
"Of course, I love it," you smile, tucking in the dinosaur with you. Zach can't help but give you another kiss, gently caressing your cheek as his lips trace yours.
He leaves the room to get the water and the pill, and when he comes back, he sees you already passed out. Arlo is tucked safely under your arm, and Zach knows he can watch this for hours on end.
Because you're his beautiful, drunken mess, and he wouldn't want you in any other way. (Well, maybe not this drunk, but you know what he means.)
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles
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janaispunk · 4 months
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masterlist
300 followers celebration! ✨
This is absolutely wild to me. When I posted my first fic two months ago, I didn’t think that anyone would be interested to read it, but the love that I’ve received on here has been overwhelming in the very best way!! I’m so grateful for each and every one of you.
I’m doing a little celebration, that’s basically just asking you to flood my inbox with everything you want hehe <3
• 🪐 send me everything fun; this or that, fmk, would you rather, have you ever, anything you can think of really!
• ☁️ send me a prompt for a little moodboard. could be for a fic of yours, just a vibe you like, or -if we’re mutuals- the vibe i’m getting from you. again, anything you can think of!
• ✨ send me your favorite taylor swift song/lyric/favorite iconic moment/favorite anything about taylor. blondie has inspired all my fic titles and i’m deep in my friendship bracelet era, so i’ll make a bracelet based on whatever you send in to trade it with you 🫶🏻 (probably unnecessary disclaimer, but still: i’m gonna send you a photo, i won’t start shipping out bracelets irl. i’m going to a taylor party in december and to her show in july, i promise that they will be traded with other lovely swifties <3)
Send as many things as you want, but in separate asks please. Thank you and I love you 🫶🏻
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zarpasuave · 3 months
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🏜️🦊The Forest Watchers organise a fundraiser to preserve Avidya’s rainbow fireflies and the General Mahamatra lends a hand… For security (not to see his bf in his element)
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underoospeterparker · 3 months
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hii hru?? ik u have a lot of requests but i was wondering if i could request a 🫶 with tasm!peter parker where gn!reader gets rly stressed and eventually it gets to the point where their hands are shaky all the time, and peter expresses concern & reminds them to take their anxiety meds🙃 sorry if ur not comfortable w writing the last part,, but yeah js peter hurt/comfort!! i love ur writing & hope ur having a great week!
hi sweetheart! i wrote something similar to this but I'm gonna write another one, kind of like a part 2 if you'd like that :)
part one, two
"Honey?" Peter's voice snapped you out of whatever it was you had just been thinking about, and you turned to him with a dazed expression on your face. You blinked, and your vision finally turned clear. The space between his eyebrows was creased, a concerned frown already on his face. "Are you okay?"
You tried your best to attempt a smile, but it was small and fake, and it didn't placate your boyfriend's worries. "Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
His frown lines became deeper, if that was even possible. "Your hands are shaking, sweetheart."
You looked down, and sure enough, Peter was right. He took your hands in his, squeezing them in his large, warm palms. "Did you take your meds today?"
The blank look on your face answered his question, and he got up from the sofa. You let go of his hands and they resumed their shaking, Peter's gaze not moving from them as he walked over to the kitchen to get you a glass of water.
He took his place next to you again, placing the cup on the coffee table before reaching out for the tablets wrapped in foil. "I know it's hard to remember, honey, but you have to take them," he said, voice demanding but still soft, because he could never find it in himself to yell at you.
He handed you the tablet, and lifted the glass to your mouth as you swallowed it, knowing water would have spilled if you'd done it yourself. "There we go, good job," he murmured, once you'd downed the entire glass, clearly thirsty since you hadn't drank anything since the morning.
"I'm sorry," you apologised, leaning into him as he opened his arms for you to cuddle.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping himself around your slightly smaller frame. He reached for your hands, still shaking but only in the slightest, something only he would have noticed. "There's nothing to be sorry about." His voice soothed you, even more than the medicine. "It must be tiring," he added, "to have to be worrying all the time."
You felt understood, more so than you'd ever felt. "So tiring," you agreed, head tucked in his chest. His heart broke and then healed, just a little, as you shuffled in closer to him.
"I know," he cooed, "you're okay now. Promise."
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