#i was mostly trying so that i wouldn't regret not trying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dotster001 · 4 months

Text

Waking Him up with a Kiss

Summary: Malleus/Silver/Jamil x Gn!Reader. You wake your lover up with a kiss.

Requested by an anon. Fuck you, Tumblr.

CW: Jamil is kinda sus but I wouldn't be doing him justice if he wasn't.

Also! Always get consent from your partner before kissing them in their sleep! That's a cool kid thing to do!

He'd been hinting at this for a while now. All his life, Lilia had regaled him with fairy tales where the sleeping prince or princess was woken with true love's kiss. Malleus had always been a hopeless romantic, and, damn, did he want that!

He'd left the books out when he slept over. He made sure that if he knew you would come looking for him, he'd nap on his back. He sighs dreamily (and loudly) whenever he rereads those fairytales next to you. He waxes on and on about how romantic being awoken with a kiss is. He knows he's dense. But he thinks you're worse.

Lilia giggles and says to be patient, Silver says to just tell you what he wants, and Sebek says to just banish you for the treason of making him sad. He decides that Lilia has never steered him wrong before, so he decides to be patient.

And one day it happens. He's dreaming of you, walking through a meadow, hand in hand. You turn to him, your radiant smile glowing brighter than the sun of his dreams. You press your lips to his, gentle as a cloud, and it feels so real that he doesn't want to wake up.

But he does, and he moans a little as he regrets losing the dream world. But the feeling of your lips doesn't fade. Light as a cloud, gentle as a dove, a feeling that makes him feel so full inside he thinks he'll burst.

His eyes flutter open, and there you are, on your knees in the grass, smiling softly as you push one of his dark bangs away from his eyes. He smiles sleepily, putting together that his dream came true.

“Now that you've given me a taste, I hope you know that I am insatiable,” he said, his voice still husky with sleep. You giggled, as though you thought he was joking.

Oh, you sweet little human.

He is not joking.

He has told you this on many occasions. If you are hanging out, and he falls asleep, do whatever you need to to wake him up. He originally tried to be chill about it, but eventually he let on just how much it distressed him when he missed time with you. He didn't want to miss out on any time with you. Yes, it was partially for you. But if he was honest, it was mostly for him. It hurt his chest to think about losing time with someone he loved. Being around the fae taught him every moment mattered.

Usually, you try everything. You shake him, you steal his pillow, you bang a pot, you set three alarms to go off at the same time. But today, you tried something different.

Silver blinked his eyes open, only to be met by your uncertain ones staring back at him, your face hovering a few inches above his.

He gently lifted a hand to his lips, the ghost of your kiss lingering. He may not have been fully awake for it, but he knows it happened.

His mind was immediately transported to a moment in his youth. He was sitting by his father, sniffling sadly because he fell asleep during Lilia's birthday party.

“Ah, my sweet son,” Lilia said with a warm smile, gently nuzzling his cheek against Silver's. “I know it's not your fault. Even doctors have told you you can't help it. I am not upset at all.”

“But it's your birthday,” Silver sniffled. “I feel like I must be cursed.”

Lilia's eyes widened in understanding.

“That must be it!” He said excitedly. He ran to the nearby bookshelf and pulled off a book, before nodding sagely.

“Yes, that must be it, look,” he flipped to a page in the story, pointing to a picture of a sleeping princess being kissed awake by a knight in shining armor. “I know this curse! When you find true love, perhaps their kiss will save you!”

Silver excitedly nodded at the picture, his eyes wide.

Lilia snapped the book shut, authoritatively. “But until then, I don't want you to be sad when you fall asleep. Your hero will save you one day. And they might be sad that they took a long time to save you. So if you are less hard on yourself, it might help them feel better. Promise?”

Silver nodded happily.

Lilia is a menace, filling his son's heads with fairytales. /Affectionate

In the present, Silver smiled softly.

“Did you kiss me awake?”

“Sorry, I know I should have asked, but I figured when you said wake me up however I can-”

“That's correct. I could have said it plainly, but this is definitely what I pictured when I said that. But in case you need me to verbally say it, yes, please continue to wake me up like this. I think I will wake up every single time.”

You smiled at him, still hovering over him, making him long for your kiss again.

“You know, I wasn't awake for the last one. Would you please kiss me again?”

You giggled, then leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

“I feel like I need more ways to show my love for you,” you said thoughtfully. Jamil sat next to you on your bed in Ramshackle, reading over your report, and checking for mistakes.

“And what makes you say that?” He hummed in amusement.

“Seriously? You do everything for me! And I'm just kinda here!”

“I'm perfectly satisfied with that. In fact, I'd rather do all the hard stuff so that you have the energy to shower me in affection when I'm done,” he snickered to himself. If anything, a small selfish part of him liked the idea of you feeling like you had something to prove. It made you a very physically affectionate lover to “make up for it”. And while he was easily flustered, he very much liked the gentle caresses, warm embraces, and hungry kisses you gave him.

“Tell you what,” he hummed, handing you back the marked up report. It would take you hours to make the corrections. He loved you, but you were at a disadvantage when it came to college courses in the laws of magic. “I'm going to take a nap. When you finish, I'd really feel loved if you kissed me awake.”

He laid down, resting an arm over his eyes.

“You could just stay the night if you're that tired,” you said in that tone of voice that only came when you were pouting.

“Can't. Kalim has a test tomorrow, and I need to make sure he wakes up for it.”

You grumbled something, but he was already out cold.

He felt…warm. He softly sighed, as he felt your kiss deepen. Still not opening his eyes, he wrapped an arm around your neck, and continued sleepily kissing you. Yeah. This is the life he wanted. To be rewarded for his hard work with your affection.

He finally opened his eyes with a scowl when you pulled away.

“I didn't say to stop. This is about expressing your love, right?” He snickered.

You pouted. “I miss when every single thing would fluster you.”

He scowled and stood up, stretching away the sleepiness as he prepared for his trek back to his dorm.

“I don't.”

You smiled sweetly, then reached out for his hair.

“Luckily, I can still make you all blushy when I play with your hair.”

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll @stygianoir @pikeru565

“Good night love,” he scowled as he stormed out of the room.

....

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #silver x reader #silver #twst silver #twst silver x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper

2K notes · View notes

4ngel-inc · 1 month

Text

࿔*:･ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 ࿐

tags — fem reader, a little angsty but mostly fluff !! ᰔ

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 never wanted to let you go, he'd always believed you'd be together forever, but when he finally opened up and told you about his past—about his time in the mafia and everything that entailed—he thought he noticed a flicker of fear in your eyes, and it scared him. he simply couldn't handle the thought of being judged or abandoned later down the line for his past mistakes. it was selfish, really, the way the tears rolled down your cheeks solely from such an impulsive decision on his part. he regretted it immediately, but it was simply too late—he'd already broken your heart. for months, he contemplated how to get you back—flowers and apologies simply wouldn't be enough, he knew that. did he even deserve your love, after the heartache he'd put you through? he finally convinced you to grab coffee at your favorite cafe, and decided on a very simple approach, the one you deserved—spilling his heart out to you entirely. "i just want to be loved, i've never admitted it to anyone, and i've never loved anyone. i'm- uh, not sure what to do with my feelings." he looks sad, and it's the most serious you've ever seen him. after listening to him pour his heart out for a while, and overcoming a little hesitation, you decide to give him another chance. "we can try again, but please, let me see the real you this time, osamu," he waits for you to finish, "it wasn't fear in my eyes, it was love. i just can't bear the thought of you hurting, or of you being so lonely, but i'm here now, k?" you both smile, and share a sweet kiss.

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 isn't the type to thrive off of instability—he likes safety, security in a relationship. he never wanted the type of relationship that was on and off again, it was childish in his eyes, and not something he found appealing. and so the first time you two had decided to take a break, he told himself it was the last time—he was done with the relationship, and brushed it off as a passing fling, since you two were only together less than a year. however, he begins to understand why he trusted you in the first place as time goes on and your absence starts to sink in—you made him feel different than the rest, made him feel like a different person. there was something in the way you touched him that made him feel worthy, like love wasn't a rarity or a foreign concept, but simply a part of his everyday life. and now, that feeling is gone. chuuya is quite stubborn, so it takes him a while to realize how much he truly misses you, but when it finally sinks in one night, as he aerates an expensive red wine in his glass he's sure you'd scold him for drinking so late at night, he decides enough is enough. it doesn't take long for him to show up at your door, and he's quite frank when he arrives—as soon as you open the door, he sighs, "no relationship is perfect, i'm sorry i gave up on ours, it was a stupid fight. can we try again, doll? i miss you, a lot actually." needless to say, you give in.

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 wasn't expecting you two to break up at all, but you just couldn't handle the pain of watching him come home bruised and bloodied every night. even more than that, you couldn't understand why he wanted to continue working for the mafia anyways, especially when they were clearly just using him—you butted heads about it a lot, and eventually you decided to leave, akutagawa coming home to an empty apartment one day. you'd warned him you were leaving a few days before, but that didn't lessen the hurt he felt the first time he had to sleep alone. even now, weeks later, as he showers and climbs into bed, he doesn't feel the same as he did before he met you. is he changing? he feels softer, more vulnerable, he feels like crying—he hates to admit it. however, you are the one who decides to come back to him, realizing you'd made a mistake. you knock on his front door one night as he's getting ready for bed, and though he answers with an inquisitive look in his eyes, he lets you in. "what are you doing here?" he asks. you sigh, "don't sound so happy to see me." he isn't sure how open he should be with his feelings, you'll likely just hurt him again. "should i be happy? you won't stay, anyways." you approach him hesitantly, "i was wrong about us, about you—the mafia is the life you know, and loving someone means accepting all of them. if you'll give me another chance, ryūnosuke," you pause before continuing again, "i'd like to show you how much i love you this time, i don't want to be scared anymore." it isn't difficult for him to give in, and you stay the night, and all of the nights after.

𝐅𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀 never pictured himself in a serious relationship, so when he does find himself settling into one, it makes him a bit nervous. he isn't used to anything, or anyone, uprooting his life or shaking things up—other than work. so, he's a bit more critical of relationships than he might be otherwise. after your first petty argument, one that only happened months into your relationship, he convinces himself that maybe, the two of you just aren't quite a good fit. he lets you down easy, "dear, i'm worried maybe we've rushed into this a bit. i'd like to take a step back, for the time being." needless to say, it hurts, a lot. but you decide to respect his wishes and give him his space, and you find you're starting to enjoy being single again. moving on from fukuzawa isn't easy—he's the man of your dreams—but after convincing yourself you simply aren't the one he wants anymore, you begin to heal, and see the sun shine through the clouds a bit. however, fukuzawa only grows lonelier as the days go on. it's the silence of his home when he returns late at night, the way he craves the sweets you'd make him, the way he reads his books without you by his side, and the way he takes his walks without your hand there to hold, that make him realize life with you was always better than life alone. fukuzawa is a stern man, but not when it comes to this—he calls you and calmly asks to talk, and after humbly asking for another chance, it's easy to give him one. he's ready to love you with no inhibitions this time—you deserve the best of him, after all, and he'll gladly give it to you.

#— love notes: [bsd] ୧ ‧₊#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #fukuzawa x reader #akutagawa x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #bsd headcanons #fukuzawa fluff #akutagawa fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader

486 notes · View notes

cckaisen · 1 month

Text

୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝓑𝓡𝓞𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓡 𝓕𝓤𝓒𝓚𝓔𝓡, sukuna ryomen !

boyfriend’s older brother!sukuna. while little bro yuji spits up his liquor in the bathroom, sukuna takes care of his girl, finally fucking her like she deserves.

ಇ. summary. sukuna brother au, fem reader, infidelity, yuji throws up so emeto. warning, manipulation, pussy slapping, biting, some predator/prey elements, size kink, dumbification, squirting, reader is intoxicated but aware, rough kuna but he switches up:3, regret/moral conflict, angst towards the end cuz ‘m a certified yapper. wc, 4.6k.

ಇ. note. been a whore for sukuna lately but i fully blame gege for drawing him so majestic. if evil then why gorgeous, hm??? we’re onto u gege. we know u love a felon. confess already.

the door to the itadori household bursts open and in floods a typhoon of drunken chaos and laughter.

drowning in giggles, yuji has his arm thrown over your aching shoulders, humming along to some kind of song. without you, he wouldn't be upright—a jumbling, intoxicated mess.

you're mostly sober, fighting to get him to the bathroom since he was heaving in the taxi.

"whyyy do ya build me upp~" he slurs, a bumbling flurried version of himself, smothering your cheek in wet kisses that have you wriggling away. "butterrrcuppp baby, jus' t'let me downnn...!"

"yuji!" you shriek, the weight of him growing more unbearable as you try to keep him up. his breath is drenched with the heavy scent of liquor. "baby, y'gotta focus or we're not gonna make it to the—"

"—and mess m'rounddd!"

"yuji—'nuff!" you groan loudly as he drapes himself over. at this rate, you might just collapse into a heap on the floor, overcome by his weight as well as the lesser, still relevant amount of alcohol you consumed at the club.

suddenly, the patter of footsteps have you perking up. sukuna—yuji's big brother—rounds the corner, gaunt features sharp with agitation. he must've woken up when the two of you came barreling in.

"sukuna—hi," you can't help the relief that bursts through your chest, evident in the way you exhale.

sukuna notes the way your knees tremble, his brother blabbering embarrassingly on top of you. he puts aside the urge to laugh, figuring he'd spare you just this once.

"here. i got 'im." without any trouble, sukuna drags his little brother under his arm, putting your strength to shame. with the weight lifted, you finally have chance to relax, rolling your arm and letting out a loud sigh of relief.

"thank you. ow—pain."

you stumble, and the broader of the two brothers chuckles, crimson gaze soaking up your body in that dress while you're distracted. "you carried him all the way home?"

"mhm. practically sprawled out on my lap in the taxi. the driver and i had to team up to get him outta there," you whine as you kick off your heels. those stupid things had you wincing terribly most of the night. yuji said they were sexy. as much as you love him, you’re more than sure you will not be wearing them again anytime soon.

"you should've called me." sukuna's features scrunch in disgust as yuji keeps singing in his hold.

"i-i-i neeeeed youu~"

"fuckin' a, did he drink the whole bar?"

"pretty much," you reply, shrugging off your coat and following behind the pair of brothers. yuji looks so funny, almost small despite his lean stature, looking deceivingly short compared to sukuna. "he made a bet with todo and lost."

the sober man grunts as he knocks open the bathroom door, holding up yuji in his other arm. his muscles flex underneath his shirt, stretching the dark cotton, where your eyes briefly linger.

you avert your attention to yuji instead, amusement melting into concern for your boyfriend.

not sharing the same sentiment, sukuna drops him down by the toilet, putting up the lid with a smack and purposely shoving yuji's head into the bowl a little harder than necessary. "theree ya go, dumbass," sukuna grunts, slapping his back as he finally pukes up. "just barely made it."

and you're sure glad he did, thanking the gods your dress had been spared amidst the drama. with the way he'd been acting, you were never sure that you would be safe from the bile climbing his throat, cringing fearfully at times.

you feel much better now that sukuna has taken over. he's older, well-versed in trivial matters like this. yuji's already told you all about his university days, the drunken nights, the fighting—

you curse your thoughts for sprawling so suddenly, shooing off your rodent-like curiosity.

their relationship struggled at times. especially so back then, but things are different now. and as much as sukuna pretends not to care for his little brother, he clearly does, at least a little. after all, the pink tresses of your boyfriends hair are ruffled in his thick hand before he lets go fully.

then sukuna walks on in a rugged stride, leaving yuji to it. on the way out, he knocks your shoulder with his. you can't tell if the action was playful, but you’re sure it wasn't hostile, at least. a little smile creeps onto your lips as your gaze follows him into the kitchen.

sukuna is weird.

he's weird because he's not like yuji in most ways; it's not necessarily a bad thing, but he's much, much harder to see through. with your boyfriend, most things are crystal clear. you can tell what he wants, what he needs, how he needs it. he'll tell you all about it—unselfishly, of course.

however, sukuna, you find, never reads so easily. and it's weird. you can't tell if you prefer it that way, or if you'd rather know what he's thinking.

especially since you're certain you just caught his eyes slithering along your curves.

anyway.

wanting to give yuji some privacy, you pull the door shut, the sound of his gags growing muffled. you half-jog-half-limp to the kitchen, preparing a glass of cold water to ease his throat once it's all over.

unbothered, sukuna leans his back against the counter, scrolling on his phone like this is just another night to him. it's weird.

you start wondering, drawing up the conclusion that this might be first time you and him have ever been alone, in a way. yuji is there, but not really, if you know what i mean. not mentally, anyway.

before you can finish that thought, you deliver the glass to yuji, crouching down to his level and rubbing his back with careful affection. "got you some water, baby. right here, by your hand." you take it gently, guiding it towards the glass.

he's not throwing up so much now, just laying there, waiting for the next wave of nausea to crash over him. his fingers respond to the glass, wrapping around it. "thanks, hic—y're so good t'me..."

you smile warmly, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. you couldn't care less that he reeks of all kinds of concoctions and puke all rolled up together, wanting to be there for him regardless as you know he would for you.

you whisper a few more reassuring words to him before taking your leave, giving him some time to recover by himself. the bathroom door clicks shut. forgetting all about the third party, you let your back press against it, head jilting as a sigh slips out.

"he worn ya down that much?" sukuna snorts at the display, looking up from his phone.

despite your initial surprise, you laugh too. "he doesn't usually. it's just... been a busy night, i guess. i think he'll pass out in there."

sukuna briefly dips his head into the fridge, getting out a chartreuse-tinted bottle of something. "one would hope. you want one?"

"you're being weirdly nice." you blurt suspiciously, smirking. oh god. maybe the alcohol was starting to work you over, too, because you definitely weren't supposed to say that. sometimes it's better not to ask, someone told you once.

sukuna pulls a face that makes you wish you could crawl out of your skin on command, even though there's technically logic behind your last words.

"am i usually mean?"

"n-no, i just mean—" fuck, stop talking. with growing embarrassment, you shake your head, "nothing. sorry. that was assumptive."

the way you initially scrambled to answer appealed to some wicked humor in him as he laughed. "yeah, it was. so yes or no?"

"yes," you sigh, shoulders slumping in admission, knowing you probably needed it. especially after whatever that was. your head is pounding—god, someone should put me down.

sukuna opens up your bottle with his teeth as you hop up on the counter, watching each other. all had gone quiet behind you. sukuna handed you the drink with the lid still between his teeth, venom swirling in his eyes when he saw the way yours lingered on the gesture.

slowly, you took the bottle, pressing the rim up to your lips before taking a sip. it bubbles in your mouth, sparkling on your tongue before you swallow it down. the burn is a little unpleasant, but you manage.

"any good?" sukuna asks.

"'s okay," you shrug, reading the bottle, pretending like any of it made sense. "a little bitter."

"you like 'em sweet?" the taller man frowns, sorting through the cupboards for something that you're too immersed to ask about.

"kinda. but too much makes me sick," you explain, scrunching your nose at the thought. "i like a balance."

"oh, really?" sukuna snorts as if you've just said the funniest thing in the world.

in one confused motion, you lower your brows. and jilt your head, wondering what's with the sudden jest. "yeah, uh... is that funny?"

sukuna raises his brows, shaking his head, some glasses clinking. "no, not funny. nothin's funny."

he really knows how to make a person feel small, you'd give him that much.

you avert your gaze, heart crawling up into your cheeks. "okay, well..."

"what about you?" he interjects, sparking up another tiny bit of annoyance in you again. not that you knew what you were gonna say anyways. it most likely would've been embarrassing anyway, making you shrink even more, wanting yuji to come out already—

"what about me?" you wonder, your voice meeker than before. curious and cautious, tip-toeing around his words. is there something you're hiding?

"are you the sticking-around or screwing-around type?"

"oh, right," you laugh, making sense of his question. it's big one, though. kind of sprung on you. still, you manage to respond, just telling him what you know while glowing with intoxication, "well, we've only been going out a couple months."

you're more focused on the way he's watching you than you are on actually answering. his eyes are sharp and torrid in comparison to his little brother's, and the way he gazes down rather than looks at you has something in you stirring, writihing hotly beneath your skin.

it's exciting. why is it exciting? there's a giddiness that gyres in the pit of your gut like a ballerina, pirouettes and grands jetés, heat cooking and simmering through your veins. it's terrible. it's weird.

"well, you can't blame me for being protective." sukuna shrugs. "he seems to really like you."

while what he's saying rings true, there's a chord slightly off-key, something askew that you can't place. is he closer than before?

you ignore it, trying on a smile. "well, feeling's mutual."

you take another sip from the bottle, the cool rim settling on your lips, sparks igniting on your tongue, the same routine replaying. you don't even think before adding gleefully, "and he's like, a jazillion times more sane than my last boyfriend, so i'm happy."

"are you?" sukuna asks, serious.

it was like flipping a switch. he was laughing, now he's earnest, and you were just entirely confused, his meaning lost on you, like you're the last in line in a game of chinese whispers. he caught you off guard with that one. and he knows it, too, carmine eyes feasting on your discomfort.

your smile falters slightly before you nod. "yeah."

"okay." he just says.

now you were really starting to get pissed off with him. whatever he's doing, it's stupid. he might as well have you cornered, except you've done nothing wrong, and yet he's prancing around you with a tone of prolific doubt. as if he knows something about you that you yourself don't.

"what?" you demand, equally serious now, smile wiped clean off. the air turns thick.

sukuna shrugs his shoulders again and you swear you have to fight off a sneer. "nothing."

is he casting doubt on your love for yuji? is that what this is? is he trying to tell you you're not good enough for him? that even though you trudged half a mile in those huge stupid heels just because he said they looked hot on you—carrying his dead weight, might i add, as he was screeching a song you'd never heard in your ear—that all of that was just for laughs, and there were no real feelings behind those actions? is that seriously what he's getting at?

sukuna wants to laugh so bad. your face is all screwed up, cheeks puffed out and burning a deep red. oh, how it fuels him. your stubbornness, that endearing naivety that clings to you like all your modest perfumes, the one that lingers in yuji's room, occasionally in his clothes, infecting every dark corner of his mind—and now you know how it feels to be tortured by him.

"you want some water?" the man asks casually. your mind is on fire, your thoughts more blaring than you would probably think. it's written all over you.

his question makes your shoulders drop, feeling stupid all over again. what are you getting so worked up for? you're secure in your feelings for yuji. as his brother, sukuna has every right to feel concern for him. there really is no need for you to be acting like this.

he's playing you like a damn flute.

"yes, please." you answer a lot more softly, pulling your hair around to one side. you'd been bratty without cause, assumptive, again. you really need to stop mischaracterizing him. after all, he's no monster. "i think all the drinks are finally getting to my head a little."

he starts filling up a glass, grinning at you over his shoulder, mischief playing in his slanted-eyes. "oh, don't tell me you were expecting anything bottled. tap's the best y're gonna get from us. hope you can handle it."

a smile works onto your lips as you finally start to loosen up again, legs swinging gently off the side of the counter. playing along, you wince. "oh yeah, well, i usually only drink expensive, you know, mineral-rich—"

"yeah."

he's suddenly between your legs, his mouth devouring your own, swallowing the terrified noise that begs to escape. for a moment, you're frozen in shock, eyes widening as you palms meet his chest in a forceful attempt at creating space.

sukuna juts back, forced away from you. his eyes crack open but are still like slits, dark, crawling with lust you hadn't previously noticed—no, acknowledged, because the choice has always been there.

he relishes in the terror that brims in your eyes at his visceral kiss. it feels natural, but not in the tender, motherly sense. like predator devouring prey. the natural order of life.

his hands are hot, gripping onto your thighs, digging into the tights he could easily rip to shreds, giving him full access to your warm cunt, to ruin you.

and yet he doesn't.

he waits for your eyes to droop, for you to lunge at him, accepting this twisted spiral of events, indulging his darkness. teeth clicking, tongues meeting messily in a sloppy kiss, drool gathering between you both as you crash together all at once, a train wreck of carnality. sukuna's hands are all over you, groping, slashing at the crotch of your tights. you gasp into his mouth as cold air meets the sobbing wetness of your cunt, followed by a slap to it.

"f-fuck! hey, who said you could—hmff!" you yelp as his hand clamps over your mouth suddenly, his scarlet eyes narrowing.

"brat, watch ya fuckin' mouth." sukuna warns as you grapple with him. his tattoos look especially menacing then, chiseling his features. "he's drunk. not deaf."

you nod, trying to tell him you understand. he releases your lips in an instant only to seize them again in his so forcefully.

yuji would never—could never take you like this, and you fucking know it. you know it with every gnaw, every squash of your tits that leaves you whining like a bitch in heat, every bite against your neck where you can feel the outline of his brother's teeth and a short gush of crimson.

rationality is lost on you as you mindlessly rut against him, your hands running up and down his back until you start tugging on his pants, eager to rid him of them.

meanwhile, sukuna's making a meal out of you—you make up half of his size, giving him complete control to do as ever he pleases.

every whine is met with a grunt. his cock must have been freed at some point as you feel his greedy hands lift you against him, your chests meeting, the sharp cold of the counter leaving your ass and feeling his palms spread you apart instead.

nothing could prepare you for the suddenness of which he fills you—you scream, half openly, half having shoved your face into his shoulder—aware his brother, your lover, is passed out over the toilet in the other room.

"shh, shh—fuckin' shit!" sukuna groans, features curling in erotic bliss.

he gluts you in ways yuji never has, the ways he'll never dare—with such cruel, carnal demand, to the brim, unkind, violent, and so, so fucking good.

as he breaches your womb, you claw his back raw through his shirt. a sob rips through you. sukuna does his best to keep you quiet. "shh... fuck. yer so fuckin' tight, girl. relax."

"t-tryin'... 'm so full..." you whine, eyes misting over with tears. it feels too good, you think...

"i know—" sukuna chokes, barely lifting you up on his cock, feeling your walls spasm around him. "fuck, what ya cryin' for?"

he feels too good.

"d-don't move yet, i'll cum," you gasp, and he hasn't even tried—sukuna's expression blanches.

"already?" he bursts out laughing in his brutish way, the side that yuji lacked entirely as the nicest person you've ever known; fuck. the humiliation makes your cunt squeeze again.

he lifts you up, your knees draped over his thick arms, foreheads meeting. your breaths intertwine, hot and treacherous, caressing each other's faces.

"ya know, i've fuckin' heard you, all those times."

"wh-what?" you stammer cluelessly, only half there, clinging to sukuna as he dangles you on his cock, your eyes crossing when he starts to bounce you on him.

"said i fuckin' heard you, you 'n yuji—'n shit, ya never got this loud, huh?" he smirks wickedly, feeling your body collapse hopelessly against him. he fucks you up and down on him, swallowing up your pathetic moans and whines like they were the last noise he'd ever hear. "been wanting to take ya like this, stretch yer dumb little cunt on me, fuckk—ya got no fuckin' idea, princess."

rocking up and down, you wail, head bobbing. sukuna can just see your little maw dangling open—it takes everything in him not to jam his fucking fingers in your throat until you drool and splutter around him.

"y—you wanted—this?" you struggle, feeling too good to make sense of anything, to think straight, to do anything other than take every rough kiss to your cervix, feeling your insides bruise and swell with lucid excitements.

"lemme guess, the brat cums too soon—never quite gets ya there, hm?" sukuna guesses correctly, making you whine and nod and babble.

"h-how did y—ah, fuck—!" he snapped his hips, picking up the speed as you wept on him. you'd never been fucked like this in your life, and your world was getting flipped on its head. when did your dress come down? you weren't sure—but now your tits were bouncing and sukuna wasn't gonna pass up the opportunity to tear into them.

"cuz, 's just obvious," sukuna rasps, teeth clamping down on your raised nipple, "can tell this sloppy pussy ain't gettin' treated right. not when she's—shit—creamin' all over me jus' from stickin' it in."

"'k—kuna, don't—ahh! fuck!"

"that's it girl, shit, c'mon," sukuna keeps picking you back up only to drop all your weight on his fat cock, his balls slapping against your ass, the slick you're gushing causing them to stick together.

your head is empty, devoid of anything except the chaos, the suddenness of it all, the shock, he's fucking you. your boyfriend's older brother is fucking you, and you've never felt so goddamn good.

there's this sudden wave. a wetness. an explosive feeling that crashes over you in one swift, predatory pounce. like when a deer gets suddenly ripped apart. your head straight up drops on sukuna's shoulder, and you're sobbing loudly, babbling words that can't be defined.

then all of a sudden, sukuna outright cackles; the sound bleeds into your ringing ears, head picking up off of his shoulder.

"no fuckin' way!" he roars with laughter. you wanna shush him, but you can't move—your nerve ends are all bursting to life, like fruitful grapes popping between two fingers. it's happening again, whatever that feeling is, whelming you; this time you his fingers rub back and forth harshly across your clit, but wait—

"dumb lil pussy's squirtin' already, hahh, shit—fuckin' christ, girl—" he's enamored, watching you cum in adorable little spurts, soaking his clothes, your tights, and the kitchen floor, covering everything in your stupid juices.

"you wanted this, goddamn—look at you."

your eyes are rolled back as he kisses you again, fingers tearing into your scalp, the lewd sound of your lips smacking together filling the air.

never in your fucking life. you'd never came like that, so violently, so carelessly, not without really, really trying. all sukuna had to do was pump you up and down on his cock, say a few words and you were spraying like a tap. how fucking pathetic.

and then he does it again. drags another one out of you, laughing.

you barely catch his next words.

"'m gonna fuckin' cum in ya."

"n—no—" you stumble out, barely coming to at the words, but their enough to fill you with at least some urgency. your ass is bruised at the back from being repeatedly slammed against the counter, the wind knocked out of you entirely. "d-don't, wait, you can't—"

"why the fuck not, hah?" sukuna rumbles. "don't tell me it's cuz'a—"

"—yuji," you sob.

it hits you. it hits you then, hard, at the worst time. a gut-punch, one that makes you heave. in less than half a second, a guilt strong enough to set your skin alight cultivates and wrecks each single sense. his cologne invades your nostrils, an imaginary sensation, forced to breathe its natural, tender nature as opposed to sukuna's harsh and crude and brooding one, the one you're drowning in. the one sticking to your skin.

your hand—finally letting go of sukuna's shoulder, where you were keeping yourself stable—slaps over your mouth, tears springing into your eyes.

"f—fuck, fuck, fuck!" sukuna chants, eyes scrunching as he gets lost in the pleasure. he's pounding you, knocking your eyes back still, not slowing his pace for anything. your leg flails once, but how can you fight when he's holding you up like this?

"'s—'kuna," you choke out brokenly, slapping his chest with whatever strength you can muster. your lip quivers, heart aching in your chest as you plead tearfully, "don't."

he'd never been considerate. he'd never 'made love'. not even now. he fucked. he lied, he slipped off condoms, he 'forgot' to pull out, all so many times before. it was clockwork to him. he could've easily done it again. lied. been selfish. blurred the lines. cheated consent.

put a baby in his little brother's whore girlfriend.

and yet sukuna weirdly found himself pulling out of you last second, one hand holding you up while the other jerked his cock until thick ropes of cum splattered up your dress with a strained grunt. his orgasm spoils at it hits, a rough ecstasy that's tattered along the edges and ultimately, ultimately unsatisfying. it barely scratches the surface. the heat of it hasn't even started leaving his body before he wants more, regrets not filling you up, every cell inside him clawing for it, starved and fucking addicted.

sukuna almost, almost crushes you against the island, dropping you on the counter again where your drenched cunt feels like it's been electrocuted when met with the cold so suddenly. you gasp, arching into him, searching for any kind of warmth.

but he rips away from you, turning his back. his touch is gone as soon as it came. any desire flatlines, ringing loudly, blaring in your sensitive ears. alarm bells.

what is this?

both your chests are heaving. there's no afterglow. it's messy, dirty, frantic. cheap. depraved.

and it seems like you aren't the only one.

"s-sukuna, i—"

CLICK.

lips snapping shut, you sit right up, head whipping around in the most deafeningly guilty sense ever. heart in your throat, your expression echoes one of pure horror, one you expect will reflect your boyfriend's when he realizes what's going on here.

yuji stumbles out of the bathroom, his mop of pink hair tousled and eyelids low. he hangs by the doorframe for several seconds, his head dropped, not even looking up. it takes only a few steps. they're slow, clumsy, lead him to the bedroom door. he doesn't notice. he doesn't notice.

his older brother and his girlfriend are feet away, covered in squirt and sperm and other dirty secrets. shame. guilt. some more than others.

and he just blunders into the bedroom, a loud 'thump', telling you that he made it to bed.

all you do is stare. your jaw stays slack.

you hear a zipper and, frazzled, quickly flit your head at sukuna. he's fixing his clothes, not paying you any mind.

you stare at his back, despairing.

"wh—you're just gonna...?" you stammer incredulously, trying to do the same but there's no fixing the gaping hole in your tights that reaches down to your mid thighs.

away from his gaze, him cum settles against the fabric of your torn up dress, pooling slowly in its place.

his cock, hardly soft, twitches again, urging his need. he ends up frozen for a moment, simply staring, before he numbly moves forward.

he leaves, leaving you sat on the counter as he storms out into the night, slamming the front door behind him.

you're alone there, stunned, cum up your dress that is almost but not quite your boyfriend's, the floor below you soaked, and a heartbeat in every part of your body.

trembling, you push yourself off of the counter.

vaguely aware of the layout of the house, you scramble to find some wipes and clean up the mess on the floor. after that, it takes at least 10 minutes to get the semen out of your dress, but even then, you feel filthy.

you sniffle over the sink, scrubbing soapy suds into your tainted skin. wanting to throw up.

what the fuck had you done?

you'd cheated. that's it. you cheated on the sweetest angel, your angel, yuji. the one entirely too gentle and trusting for this world. you betrayed him. a sob rips through you, shattering your core.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

as you sneak back into bed, fingers still shaking as they turn the handle to yuji's room, you don't even have the energy to change your clothes. you simply crawl into bed, too crushed to face him, not garnering the strength, knowing what you'd done. a tear slips down your cheek.

because you can't even regret it.

and before you know it, yuji's draping himself over you, his arms, pulling you against the haven of his chest, sighing against your neck.

"you made it..." he mumbles.

oh, how you want to sob when he says such a thing. "yeah," you nod, trying to suppress the break in your voice, "yeah, i'm here."

yuji grunts happily, snuggling you closer. "mmh, good."

you don't think you will ever forgive yourself.

"i love you." yuji says, blind to the truth.

but you swear it's not one-sided. "i love you," you admit, beginning to cry softly in his arms, wondering if it will be the last time you ever get the liberty of doing so again.

770 notes · View notes

suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

Text

seze

seze [ˈsɛ.zɛ] n. blue flower

Anonymous Request: Reader confesses her feelings to Ao'nung and he rejects her pretty harshly, and Neteyam comforts her and eventually confesses to her and she realizes her feelings for Neteyam. When it comes time for them to mate before Eywa, Ao’nung regrets rejecting her, but it’s too late.

1,708 words

He looked me right in the eyes as he said it, with no shame, holding back nothing.

"I could never love someone like you."

He didn't yell it, he didn't even use a particularly harsh tone... he said it as if he was commenting that it looked like it might rain. It was a simple fact, and he seemed surprised that it wasn't something I'd considered.

I knew what he meant by 'someone like me'. Someone of little consequence. Someone with no particular or special skills. Someone on the outskirts of the clan, someone no one had ever really noticed.

Someone unimportant.

Though the words knocked the wind out of me, drained the blood from my face and made me feel light headed, all I could do was nod, turn, and walk slowly away.

It had taken weeks to work up the courage to tell Ao'nung how I felt. He had been so kind to me lately... I thought maybe, he felt the way I felt. Now I realized, that was foolish.

I left the beach for the protection of the treelined, and once I was out of sight, I sank to the ground, and let out a painful, low-pitched wail that I felt through my entire body.

The disappointment was hard, but the embarrassment was almost worse. Of course Ao'nung wouldn't be interested in someone like me; he would take a high-born mate, not a fisherman's daughter.

I cried myself to sleep, slumped against a tree, trying to accept my fate.

Neteyam noticed a change in Y/N right away. Though she mostly kept to herself, she was always cheerful and happy. He knew Kiri had a particular interest in Y/N, they had become sort of friends, and so she was around his family sometimes.

Something had happened to Y/N about three days ago, but Neteyam didn't know what. Though she was still around, she didn't speak, or smile, or engage hardly at all.

Neteyam asked Kiri what it was, but Kiri just shrugged and told him Y/N hadn't said anything to her.

He thought that was obtuse of Kiri. Hadn't he noticed the change in her friend? She was quiet before - not absolutely silent.

After another day of this, Neteyam could no longer hold his tongue, and when the opportunity presented itself and he found himself alone on the beach with Y/N, who was braiding a fishing net, he decided he had to speak up.

Neteyam sat next to me, lifting the net I was working on into his hands. It was small yet, but would be quite large when I was finished.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

I glanced over at him and nodded.

"Actually, I wanted to ask... if you're okay?"

My hands, once busy, settled into my lap, gripping the netting tightly. I was not okay, but I couldn't imagine why Neteyam would care. He had never shown any particular interest in me. In fact, no one had, save his sister, but even she hadn't noticed what was going on with me.

Ao'nung was right - I was not lovable.

A tear slipped from my eye, and I brushed it away, hoping Neteyam hadn't noticed.

"I'm fine," I replied.

Neteyam shook his head. "You are crying."

I turned away from him, pulling my knees to my chest. "It doesn't matter, Neteyam. Don't trouble yourself with me."

His warm, strong hand gripped my shoulder, and without thinking, I leaned over, pressing my cheek to his hand. The contact felt so good, and I tried to remember the last time someone had touched me like this... or at all.

"Tell me."

He pulled gently, and I turned to face him. The look on his face was so genuine, so earnest, and so full of concern. For a second, I wondered if he was teasing me. Maybe Ao'nung had told him what happened already, and Neteyam wanted to make fun of me.

That didn't make sense, though. Ao'nung and Neteyam weren't even close to being friends.

So maybe the concern was genuine.

The words spilled out of me then, like vomit, and I couldn't stop them. I told Neteyam about my years-long crush on Ao'nung, how I had pined for him, imagined a life with him, took his kindness to mean something it hadn't meant, and how when I'd told Ao'nung how I'd felt, he made it clear that I was too unimportant for someone like him to ever care about or notice.

I was crying by the end, fat tears rolling down my cheeks and splashing hot onto my lap, but it felt so good to finally tell someone that I didn't care, I couldn't feel embarrassed anymore. I had suffered enough embarrassment to last a lifetime over the past few days; I wanted to be done with that.

When I finished, I furiously wiped the tears from my eyes, and waited for Neteyam's response.

His expression was... angry. His brows furrowed, his mouth pursed, his eyes focused.

"I will kill that moron," he whispered.

I sighed and shook my head. "He doesn't have to love me."

"But he could at least be kind!"

I didn't reply, because I couldn't exactly argue with him.

Neteyam reached out unexpectedly, pulling me to him, wrapping me in a tight hug. Without hesitation, I wrapped my arms around him, scooting closer, our bodies pressed together.

It felt so comforting, so intimate, so nice to be treated like this and cared about, I would've started crying again if I'd had any tears left.

"Neteyam, thank you," I whispered.

He pulled back, looking me in the eyes. "You are important, Y/N. I have watched you. You are kind and thoughtful. You watch Tuk carefully to ensure she doesn't ever get hurt, you treat Kiri with thoughtfulness and protect her when others treat her like she's different, you even tolerate Lo'ak. I have never met anyone so gentle or caring. That someone could hurt you... it makes me want to kill him, Y/N. He had no right to speak to you that way. You are like... you are like a flower, with soft petals. You should be protected, given water and sun, not stomped on."

A flower. This is was nicest thing anyone had ever said to me, and Neteyam was staring into my eyes, so intently. How could someone like him, the son of Taruk Makto, have noticed and felt these things about me?

"Neteyam, I..." I searched my mind for a perfect reply, but could only come up with: "I see you, Neteyam."

"I see you, Y/N."

My lips spread wide in a smile - my first in many days - and Neteyam smiles in return.

After that day, Neteyam and I were scarcely ever apart. He became at first, a best friend, my closest confidant, and then naturally, it turned into something more.

There wasn't a moment when I realized it had happened. He just began holding my hand nearly all of the time, guiding me by the small of my back, touching his forehead to mine when we part and finally, one night, he kissed me.

It didn't even shock me. It felt natural, that Neteyam would kiss me. It felt really almost overdue. Neteyam should have been kissing me since the moment we met.

We were completely in step, in sync, together always. Neteyam was meant to be my mate, and I was meant to be his.

He didn't really ask me, formally, to be his mate. He just mentioned once, something about, "when we're mated..." and I agreed.

And the date was set... but we told almost no one, outside of his family and mine. It felt special, secret, just for us.

"Kiri says they're very happy," Tsireya told her mother while she chopped fruit. "I think it's nice, that Y/N has found someone. She's always seemed so lonely."

Ronal nodded. "That's good. Good for Y/N. She's a nice girl."

Ao'nung sat across from them, his jaw set in anger. Y/N had done him a kindness by telling no one about his harsh rejection, and he had since realized that.

It wasn't that he didn't like Y/N. He had always thought she was beautiful, and kind, and there was something interesting about her, a quality he hadn't seen in other women in the clan... but no one really knew her, or cared about her. Her parents weren't particularly important to the clan, and neither was she, and Ao'nung thought, as future Ole'eyktan, he should have someone better.

He had come to realize that he had been stupid. Better wasn't more well-known, more talented, more superficial... better was kind, and caring, and someone his mother thought was a 'nice girl'.

"They are to be mated before Ewya," Tsireya said with a blush. "They don't plan to make a ceremony of it, just the two of them."

Ronal smiled. "Beautiful."

Ao'nung sat, simmering in anger at the chance he had lost, thinking of how Neteyam had almost beat him senseless when he found out how Ao'nung had treated Y/N.

He knew now, he deserved it, and he'd missed his chance.

When Ao'nung had told me he could never love me, it had seemed like the end of my life. It made me feel stupid, and worthless, and ugly. I hadn't thought I'd ever recover.

Then, Neteyam breathed new life into me. He didn't have to, but he did, and he kept doing it, every single day since then.

We emerged from the water, Neteyam breathless, chest heaving, my mate before Ewya.

He pulled me into his arms once more, pressing a desperate kiss to my lips, holding my face in his hands, then wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I love you," he whispered over and over between kisses, and I thought I could cry with gratefulness and joy.

"I love you, Ma Neteyam," I replied. I pulled away, just for a moment, to smile at him. "Thank you."

He pushed the wet hair from my face. "My flower," he said with a soft smile, as he so often did.

The sting of rejection was long behind me, replaced by enough joy to last a lifetime.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #neteyam fic #avatar 2 #avatar twow

3K notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 2 months

Text

Sick Days:

*MC is in the Croytus Hall kitchen, trying their damnedest to keep from coughing their lungs out while carefully monitoring a pot of simmering soup. They hear the footfalls of their housemate, Solomon, as he comes up behind them*

Solomon: Oh MC~! I have everything ready. Thankfully, the Devildom still has TV these days, even if the shows are out of d-... da-....

*a hankerchief flies out of his pocket and quickly covers his nose*

Solomon: ACHOO!!

*the hankerchief does its thing before flying off behind him to go put itself in the laundry, swapping places with a fresh one that finds its way back to his pocket once again*

MC: *keeps their back to him* Bless you.

*Solomon comes up and slings his arms over their shoulders, leaning against them like he's a sagging backpack. His head rests alongside theirs*

Solomon: Is it still cooking?

*he reaches out to lift the lid on the pot but MC, already knowing better, swiftly smacks his mit back down*

MC: Don't touch.

Solomon: Oh! Right, I'm sorry. Forgot the rules for a second. I'm sure it smells good... not that either of us would know.

*he contently sways their bodies from side-to-side while MC clears their throat, grumbling dryily*

MC: Y-ou know, you could cure us at any time, right...?

Solomon: So could you, yet here we are! You're just playing hookie from the brothers right now, aren't you?

*the MC tries to groan, but ends up regretting it as it stresses their already aching throat. They cover their mouth with their elbow to catch their raspy coughs before responding*

MC: U-ugh! Okay, fine... You're right. How about you stop breaking my balls and pick what we're watching...?

Solomon: I already have. Beel told me about this wonderful cooking show the other day! I think we can start with that, then maybe move onto a few movies Leviathan recommended...

Solomon: I have the TV set and heated blankets on the couch. Plenty of water, a few boxes of tissues (mostly for me), your favorite sweater, a plush Asmo bought me-

MC: ...

Solomon: -and anything else we need, I'll have my wand in reach! I figured for dinner, we can order out. It's lovely that you're making us soup, but let's not push-

MC: Sol?

Solomon: -Hm?

*MC wiggles him back until they can turn themselves around and wrap their arms around his chest. They rest their head up against the soft fabric of one of his old sleep shirts snugly*

MC: .... Thank you.

*Solomon looks taken aback by their sudden tenderness, but doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around them further and lightly cage them to his chest*

Solomon: Of course, MC... You take care of so many people. You deserve a break.

*a comfortable silence spreads between them for a minute or so, before MC starts to feel Solomon's cheek rubbing against the top of their head like a smothering cat*

Solomon: Oh, my adorable apprentice, you're just so cute when you're sick~

MC: *snaps their eyes back open and glares at his words, but doesn't let go yet*

MC: Sooool....

Solomon: If I didn't know better, I would almost want to keep you like this...

MC: *snorts* Good luck. The brothers would kill you for it. *they drop their arms from his chest, but he doesn't let go*

MC: Sol?

Solomon: I'm sure they would try, but you wouldn't let something bad happen to your beloved teacher, would you MC?

MC: *rolls their eyes* You wouldn't need my help, anyway. Let go.

Solomon: *squeezes a little tighter* Uh-uh! That wasn't my question.

MC: Sol, I need to stir the soup.

Solomon: And I need to hear an answer.

MC: Solomon, I'm serious.

Solomon: Oh? What's this? I think I'm gonna... ahh...!

MC: Wait, what are you-?

Solomon: Ahhh...!

MC: Solomon, let go!

Solomon: AHHHH....!!

MC: OKAY OKAY, I WOULDN'T LET THEM HURT YOU! Don't you DARE sneeze in my hair!!

Solomon: AHHHH- Just kidding~

*he finally lets them go and they lightly slap his shoulder before turning back around in a huff*

MC: Get out of my kitchen!

Solomon: Then I'll meet you on the couch again?

MC: Only after the soup is done.

Solomon: Then we can cuddle?

MC: Not if you misbehave!

Solomon: What if I steal the blankets~?

MC: *rubs their pounding temples at their teacher's childish antics*

MC: Solomon, I'm serious. Get. Out.

#clingy old man #and his flying snotrags #also im sick right now #and this helped me feel better #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me solomon #obey me scenarios #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me oneshot #my mc x solomon #see they do love each other #kind of

413 notes · View notes

crimsntwlip · 29 days

Text

scars | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: based on this request!

a/n: so sorry i took awhile to post this req <33 remus art creds to: @/likeafunerall on ig!!

| posted: 4/2/24 | masterlist |

you and remus had been friends for quite some time now, bonding over your shared love for books and late night conversations. however, there was one thing you noticed about him - he never liked talking about his scars.

you, on the other hand, had a few scars yourself, but they were nothing compared to the ones that marred remus's skin. yours were mostly from childhood scrapes and silly accidents, each with its own funny story or memory attached to it. you would often laugh and joke about them, but whenever the topic of scars came up, remus would quickly change the subject.

one night, as the two of you sat in the gryffindor common room, you found yourself recounting the story behind a scar on your knee from falling out of a tree when you were younger. remus listened in awe as you animatedly described the events leading up to the fall and the hilarious aftermath.

“ i can't believe you were that brave as a child,” remus said, his eyes shining with admiration. “i would have been too scared to even climb a tree.”

you chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “well, you never know what you're capable of until you try, right?”

you noticed a shift in remus' demeanor. his eyes seemed to darken slightly, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “is everything alright, remus?” you asked, concerned.

he hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, his voice low and hesitant. “i... i don't really like talking about my scars.”

you nodded understandingly, not wanting to push him further. but to your surprise, remus spoke up again, his voice barely above a whisper. “but... hearing you talk about your scars and the memories behind them, it's... it's nice. It's like... they're not just scars, they're... stories.”

you smiled softly, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. “yeah, they're like reminders of the adventures and mishaps we've had along the way.”

for a brief moment, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you, before remus spoke up once more, his voice stronger this time. “i... suppose I could share a story or two about my scars, if you're interested.”

you beamed at him, eager to hear the tales behind the mysterious marks that marred his skin. as the conversation shifted to remus, you couldn't help but notice the way his expression softened when he spoke about his scars. he reluctantly shared a few stories behind them, but you could tell it was difficult for him. you made sure to listen attentively, showing him the same patience and understanding he always showed you.

as remus finished telling his story, to which he now regretted telling, he nervously fidgeted with his hands.

noticing his demeanor, you smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand in solidarity. “i think your scars are beautiful, remus,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his with warmth and understanding. “and i wouldn't change a single one of them because they're a part of what makes you who you are.”

remus met your gaze, his eyes shimmering with emotion as he processed your words. a soft smile played on his lips, and he squeezed your hand back gently. in that moment, you both shared a silent understanding, a newfound closeness that transcended words.

“thank you,” remus whispered, his voice filled with gratitude. “you always see the best in people, don't you?”

you shrugged modestly, a hint of blush coloring your cheeks. “i just know a good soul when I see one.”

the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire in the common room providing a soothing background noise as you two continued talking through the night.

#harry potter fanfiction #—crimsntwlipᡣ𐭩 #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders x y/n #marauders x reader #the marauders imagine #the marauders fic #marauders x you #the marauders x reader #emsnotion

323 notes · View notes

partycatty · 3 months

Note

Hello :) please could I request love at first sight headcanons for Kenshi, Syzoth, Johnny and Liu Kang 💙💙

ofcccc love

kenshi, syzoth, johnny, liu kang > love at first sight

uh oh, the boys are smitten ;))

notes: you're a monk/trainer/idfk at the wu shi academy, so that's where they meet you for the first time! also pretend syzoth didnt have a wife and kids up until like 30 minutes before u guys meet LMFAOMFOMAF

masterlist <3

♡

kenshi >

kenshi kept mostly to himself, given his motivations for fighting in the tournament in the first place. of course, he'd get into the occasional spitting match with the actor that held his sword hostage as well. but something about you made his work feel unimportant.

he wouldn't make himself known to you for quite some time, but he caught your eye during the introductions when he arrived at the academy. you stood beside liu kang as his second in command, posture perfect and eyes forward. you were a trained individual, and kenshi couldn't help but be fully enamored.

you embodied everything kenshi aspired to be, and he was torn between wishing you two would spend more time together, to wishing you'd kick the shit out of him. maybe both?

"i come requesting for a sparring partner," kenshi explains, eyes transfixed on your perfect form. he had to avert his gaze to the ground as he bowed, lest he fall victim to your beauty. "i was hoping for some advice and feedback."

you agree, considering it's your job. and so, you begin setting up the environment for a spar. the floor is cleared and you roll up your sleeves, taking your personal fighting stance. kenshi almost forgot to ready himself when you charged at him.

you were objectively a better fighter than him, sword or otherwise. his blows were easily parried and his punches were matched with kicks. and sure, he had a crush now, but when you stood over him with your hands on your hips, something stronger blossomed. he felt his face become hot as he laid flat on his back between your legs.

then, he smirked with a newfound confidence. now or never, tattoo.

"perhaps we should spar more often, if this is the outcome," he'd slyly remark.

his comment earned him a week of scrubbing floors, but he doesn't regret it, no matter how hard johnny and lao pointed and laughed. and neither do you.

♡

syzoth >

he fought like hell to get out of outworld, freed from the shackles of shang tsung's imprisonment. when the portal behind everyone closed, syzoth stood awkwardly alongside ashrah behind the earthrealmers.

"meet the newest players of earthrealm," johnny introduces them to liu kang, though he is already familiar with their existence. he created them, after all.

"syzoth, ashrah, please," liu kang gestures for them to follow him. he needed intel on the situation, and fast. something sinister was brewing.

he leads them into a large room decorated with hourglasses and dragon statues. tables with scattered scrolls, maps, and figurines litter the room. this must be liu kang's workspace.

as syzoth enters the spacious room, he is marveled at the intricacy of the designs. what captures his attention quicker, though, was you. you were sitting in a distant chair, standing upon the group's arrival and taking your spot beside liu kang.

"this is my trusted assistant," liu kang introduces you, and you bow to them respectfully. "please inform them of any useful information regarding shang tsung."

syzoth feels as if life slows down, and his cold blood send a shiver down his spine. his face flushes with a greenish tint, and he already finds himself impossibly infatuated with your appearance. you remind him of an ancient statue, how your beauty deserves to be preserved for all to appreciate. but at the same time, he feels a strong desire to keep you to himself.

you sit across from the zaterran, briefly introducing yourself before diving into the questioning. syzoth, however, can't seem to focus on your words, only your plush lips.

"syzoth," you say, trying to regain his attention that is obviously diverted. "tell me how you fell into shang tsung's imprisonment."

syzoth tries so hard to spill the entire timeline, but his words stumble over each other every time he looks up at you. your eyes are so warm, so inviting, so perfect. he's flustered incredibly quickly. it's so obvious that even ashrah playfully rolls her eyes from a distance.

you make him nervous, and that's really cute.

♡

johnny >

johnny walks through the portal with new his fellow chosen ones, taking in the view of the academy. he tunnel visions hard, only focusing on getting adequate information using his phone. that is, until he pans over to the group of monks awaiting his arrival. he stops on you, shamelessly zooming in to get a good view of your face.

"didn't know monks could be so sexy," he'd call out with a smirk, not even putting his phone down for a single second to admire you in person. it's only when kenshi shoves his arm downward that he actually gets a good look at you.

his playboy jokes would die down when he neared you as it was replaced with a warm obsession. you were drop-dead gorgeous. he could score you some roles in movies, you could be the face of perfumes across the globe!

what he felt wasn't like hollywood infatuation. he wanted to know more than what you hid under your robes, which was relatively new to him. he felt the need to grow and change to earn your praise.

he felt little to no shame about this realization. every chance he could, it was an offer to dinner, an offer to visit his sleeping quarters, or him casually dropping he'll be in the secluded hot springs after training, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you heard him.

johnny would make a clear effort to somehow always be in your way, forcing you to interact with him. he'd insist on cleaning your dishes, always be first up for demonstrations, and just so happened to memorize your schedule and "accidentally" bump into you on the gravel paths. it was so abundantly obvious that this man was head over heels, it was kind of embarrassing.

you didn't entertain the actor, honestly. it's not that you didn't like him, it was that he'd A) flirt with a vase if it had nice curves, and B) your duties were more important than a celebrity. or at least, you forced yourself to believe it.

"come on baby, surely you're wondering what kind of punch a hollywood actor packs."

"in your dreams, cage," you'd reply with a smile, knowing damn well you want to take him up on his offer later.

♡

liu kang >

he swore to never get entangled with mortals, not after what happened - or rather, didn't happen - with kitana.

liu kang grows out of this infatuation after eons of busywork and dedicates himself to the stability of the timeline. nothing could distract him from his duties.

that is, until he met the New Era you. you were a relatively insignificant part in his life prior to the timeline reset, so he never paid much attention to you or knew you existed. but, this time around, liu kang took some creative liberties and decided to give you a more significant purpose. what he didn't do was see you before this moment.

he was discussing important matters with geras at the wu shi academy, mind only focused on the importance of the hourglass and the absurdity of recent events revolving a somehow resurrected titan. as he circles the sandy display, he glances through the vision and realizes you, one of the monks, is standing in the doorway with seemingly important knowledge to deliver.

liu kang feels his heart flutter, and he places his hand on his chest in mild surprise. his face remains stoic and expressionless, but it's clear that something winded him. geras glances over at the fire god with a knowing look.

"lord liu kang," you say with a quick bow, and liu kang makes a mental note to himself that he may or may not be into titles. "i come bearing news regarding the chosen ones."

liu kang stands there, his bright eyes totally unreadable. his lips open and close, and his tattoos flicker. he doesn't realize just how long he'd been staring and lost in thought. your beauty reminded him of the universe he painted, so elegant and full of life. he doesn't know how he didn't notice you sooner. to him, you were everything he wanted to be right in the world with your gentle features and kind voice.

geras waves a hand in front of him, making him blink and snap back into reality. he clears his throat.

"yes, yes, please," liu kang suddenly adopts a warm, loving tone, one that's more caring than his usual godly silky voice. his old personality shines through, the charming pretty boy attitude he swore to abandon eons ago. "you may enter, my dear. some tea?"

geras makes the observation that he's sweeter to you than most others, but he's going to keep that to himself. for now, he just watches with mild amusement as liu kang prepares a small cup of matcha for you with a smile that travels into his glowing eyes. he witnessed that look before, when he'd see his kitana. but this was new, this was something that could be beautiful if he let himself try.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #syzoth x reader #syzoth #liu kang x reader #liu kang #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi #marley writes ☆

527 notes · View notes

jae-bummer · 11 months

Text

Right Here With Me

Request: hi! :) i feel like #19 on your recent prompt list would really fit to seventeen’s hhu, specifically to mingyu or seungcheol.. i adore your writing, thank you for putting in so much effort 💌

Prompt:

19) Taking care of your tipsy bias.

Pairing: Seventeen S.Coups x Reader

Genre: Fluff

You jumped as Seungcheol slammed his hand on the table. "Sing with me."

You blinked up at him in surprise. He was shimmying from side to side with the karaoke mic in hand.

"Coups," you sighed, crossing your arms. "We really need to get you guys back home."

"Noooo," he pouted, now his turn to cross his arms. "It's so lonely at home. Here is the opposite of whatever lonely is."

You looked across the table to Vernon who seemed to be thinking over the antonym of "lonely." Turning your eyes to Wonwoo for help instead, he gave a small shrug before taking a long sip of his water. To his benefit, he had been about as many drinks in as the rest of the guys but had chosen to hydrate about an hour ago.

"Come oooon, Y/N," Mingyu cooed, swaying behind Coups with the other microphone. "One more song!"

"One more song!" Coups chanted. "One more song!"

It wasn't long before Vernon and Mingyu had joined the chorus. With their shouting still in the background, Seungcheol stepped toward you and reached out to play with a lock of your hair. His eyes were half lidded and his plush lips pulled up at one side. "Come on, baby."

Closing your eyes, you sighed. "Coups."

Plopping on the bench beside you, he coaxed you into his side, and placed a wet kiss on your temple. "Pretty please? I love you soooo much. Why won't you love me?"

"Why is it that he always feels it pertinent to confess to you when he's drunk?" Wonwoo muttered as he watched with lifted brows.

"I don't know," you hissed, fighting your way out of Seungcheol's arms. "And what does me loving you have to do with you singing another song?"

"Everything," he said with a stubborn nod.

Wonwoo wasn't wrong. This was often Seungcheol's MO. You were best friends, even closer than that even. He was like a limb at this point. If you lost him, you wouldn't know how to function. That being said, the two of you had never explored a romantic relationship. You were mostly afraid of ruining your friendship, and he seemed to only think about it when he was intoxicated.

"He's so going to regret this in the morning," Vernon cackled, falling back into his seat.

"If you loved me, you'd let me sing one more song," Coups whined. "I'll even sing OUR song."

"We have a song?" you muttered. "Since when do we have a song?"

"Since," Coups hiccuped. "I heard it and thought of you."

"That's hardly "our" song then." You couldn't help but chuckle, plus, you were very curious to hear what Coups thought of as "your song."

"Pleaaaase," he begged. Sticking out his bottom lip, he gave you puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," you gasped. "One more song and then I walk you home!"

An award-winning smile took over Seungcheol's face as he sprung up and toward the karaoke machine. Flipping feverishly through his options, he finally seemed to find what he was looking for. Spinning around, he pointed a finger at you.

"This is for you, Y/N," he said in a low voice. You weren't sure if he was trying to be sexy or funny.

"Oh, this is going to be good," Wonwoo chuckled, pivoting himself to get a better look at the front of the room. Vernon already had his phone out and set to record.

You took a deep breath as you heard the intro to the song. Surely this wasn't what you thought this was.

"I've been drinking, I've been drinking," he crooned. "I get filthy when that liquor get into me - I've been thinking, I've been thinking..."

"Holy shit," Vernon hissed in between laughs. "This is the best day of my entire life."

You wished you were a turtle. If you had a shell, you would have something to crawl into and die. What was he doing?

"WE BE ALL NIGHT! LOOOOOOVE! LOOOOOOVE!" Seungcheol and Mingyu screeched at the top of their lungs as they began to grind their hips into the air.

"Well," Wonwoo said with a wince as he stood from the table. "That's enough of that."

Taking the few steps to cross the room, he tapped gingerly on the karaoke tablet. Within seconds, the music turned off, and the boys were left screaming in the open air.

"Yah!" Coups gasped, after he realized. "What did you do that for?"

"Everyone, I did that for everyone," Wonwoo muttered, gathering his things. "We have an early schedule tomorrow. Let's get moving."

You never had feelings for Wonwoo, but you could honestly kiss him right now.

"You heard him!" you yelled, pulling yourself to your feet as well. "Let's get moving!"

"Why didn't you like my song?" Seungcheol hiccupped. You were easing him up the steps to his apartment, holding nearly all of his body weight in the process.

"I liked your song just fine," you cringed, another flight of stairs behind you.

"You looked miserable," he pouted. "Why don't you ever take my confessions seriously, Y/N?"

"Because you don't take your confessions seriously," you muttered. Furrowing your brow, you counted the numbers on the apartment doors until you found his. "What's your code this week?"

"I can't tell you," he slurred. "It's a se-se-secret."

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you fluttered your hand toward the door. "Type it in then."

Seungcheol hiccupped again before slumping in the direction of the doorframe. Cupping his hand around the keypad, he eyed you suspiciously. "This is for my safety."

"I know, Cheolie," you laughed. "I'm not arguing with you."

Glancing back to the keypad, he stumbled back a bit. Catching him by the shoulders, you waited for the door to unlock.

"Why are there so many numbers?" Coups sighed, leaning against the door again and poking at the lock. "Three two's? Which two is the right two?"

"Let me try," you hummed. "Can you tell me what your code is?"

"My manager said not to tell anyone. Not even my mom."

"And you can change it as soon as I leave," you sighed. "If we can't get in, you're sleeping on the door mat tonight. And that's not very safe, is it?"

"Why can't I stay with you?" he asked, his eyes brightening with the sudden idea.

"Because I am not hauling you downstairs again and then another three blocks," you grumbled. "The code, please Coups."

"I like it when you call me Cheolie," he pouted.

"Cheolie, my sweet bean," you said, trying to contain your exhaustion. "Will you please tell me the code?"

"Mmm," he hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck. "Is my birthday."

"Shocker," you breathed, rapidly typing in the lock code. The door made a small buzzing sound before chiming that you could enter.

Stumbling into his apartment, you flipped on the lights and popped off your shoes before heading to the kitchen. Seungcheol, on the other hand, toppled to the floor and began yanking at his shoes.

Scanning the cabinets, you found his most spill-proof tumbler and filled it with ice water. Judging by the muffled sounds of frustration in the entryway, he was still taking off his sneakers.

Turning the corner, you could only sigh. He looked like a toddler sorely in need of a nap. "They won't come off," he said quietly before looking up at you.

"Here," you said, handing him the water bottle. "Drink."

Doing as he was told, he gripped the bottle with both hands, and leaned back against the wall. You crouched down, making quick work of his shoelaces before you managed to finally free him.

"Let's get you to bed," you murmured, motioning for him to take your hand. He slid his palm into yours before easing himself up.

"How could I go from feeling so good to feeling so awful?" he muttered.

"Funny how alcohol will do that," you chuckled, walking with him to his bedroom. "Arms up."

Setting his drink on his desk, he lifted his arms into the air and allowed you to pull his hoodie from his torso. Losing balance after the motion, he toppled onto the mattress, pulling you with him.

"Hey!" you groaned, immediately trying to separate yourself.

"Stay with me," he said softly, tangling his arms and legs around you. "Please?"

He was always affectionate when he was drunk, and you knew that. You needed to shut it down now before your heart could coax you into staying a little longer.

"I have to go home," you whispered, still not willing your body to move. You tried not to be amused as Seungcheol began pulling blankets around you and tucking them in.

"You are home," he whispered. "Right here with me."

You felt an unwelcomed warmth spread through your chest. If he wasn't so cute this would be a lot easier.

"Seungcheol..."

"Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol," he continued quietly, settling himself in beside you. "Why do you always give me reasons why you can't stay instead of just trying?"

A little voice inside the back of your head repeated the old adage, drunk minds speak sober hearts. Coups was only clingy when he had too much to drink, but he had always been tender with you. Whether sober or inebriated, he was your person. You had never allowed yourself to think past platonic soulmates...but maybe...

"You're drunk," you countered. You felt so small in bed next to him. He was comfort and safety, even with soju on his breath.

"And you're scared."

He couldn't see the code to get into the apartment, but he could sure see right through you.

"It doesn't matter what I am," you whispered. "You'll regret this in the morning."

"No, I won't," he insisted. "Because I'll wake up with you next to me and I'll remember that drunk me did hangover me a solid.

I want you here, Y/N."

"Because you're drunk."

"Because you're mine," he said softly. "You always have been."

"Have I?" you whimpered. At this point, you were scared to break the spell. Scared that he would sober up and kick you out of his bed.

"Mhm," he cooed, pulling you closer. After placing a light kiss on your forehead, he chose to set his cheek there. "And I won't let go. Not even if there's a fire."

Anything that looked blurry now could be settled in the morning. How could you leave after that?

The Morning After

#s.coups #seungcheol #seventeen #svt #s.coups fluff #s.coups x reader #seungcheol fluff #choi seuncheol #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #s.coups seventeen #seungcheol seventeen #s.coups scenarios #s.coups oneshot #seungcheol scenario #seungcheol oneshot #seungcheol x reader

2K notes · View notes

atimeofyourlife · 5 months

Text

A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington has bad parents #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #atimeofyourwrites

709 notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 5 months

Text

leveling the playing field II

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. also someone dies (but its not too graphic), mentions of blood and violence you guys get the vibes.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: embarrassed to say this is grabbing me by the cuff of my shirt and yanking me out of writer's block sorry to everyone who followed for drew's characters lmao. anyway idek if any of this is any good but as long as i'm writing something i'm pleased.

next part

Coriolanus clenched his jaw as he watched you eat from the plate of fruit your maid brought up after you called for tea, hoping that somehow you would just miss the sound of his stomach growling. He had said no, but you insisted because you were hungry. You don't even know what hungry feels like- he's already regretting letting you help him.

"So," You start, covering your mouth as you finish chewing so you could get down to strategy. If you were going to help, you had to go at this wisely. "What is your plan? Lay it out for me. I'll give you my thoughts."

"I talked to Tigris, she agreed that I need to get Lucy Gray to trust me." He tells you. "She said she would want someone here to care about her. That will have to be me."

"Okay." You nod, reaching for another slice of apple on the plate, trying to ignore the way his eyes track the fruit all the way from your plate to your lips. "So, I'm doing a more behind-the-scenes thing. I think that's better, for us and her. I don't want her to be overwhelmed."

"Yeah." Coryo agrees, staring at you. At this point, it's driving you crazy.

"Coryo." You state, pushing the dish across the coffee table in his direction. "Eat. Please."

"No, I couldn't." He tries to politely decline and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"I insist. It was made for two, I can't possibly stomach it all. It would be a shame for it to go to waste." You had laid your cards out just minutes earlier, making it clear you both knew more about each other's home lives than you cared to discuss, but that didn't mean you would torture him with it.

He hesitates before grabbing a slice and taking a few bites, looking past you and out the window. He wouldn't want it to go to waste like you said, after all.

"I won't tell anyone, you know." You say, your tone walking a line between joking and being serious. He'll interpret that in whatever way he chooses, and you're okay with that.

"I should be going, actually." He says, dropping the other half of the apple slice back onto the dish and standing up, smoothing the creases in his slacks.

You stand up as well, making your way to the door and ringing the bell that summons your maid. "I'll walk you out, just give me a second." You explain to him, and by the time you're done your sentence, she is there looking at you expectantly. "Take these leftovers and pack them up for my friend." You tell her, pointing to the mostly full plate. "And pack some of those pastries you made for his family as well, if you don't mind. Oh! And that bread, it will go bad soon if someone doesn't eat it." She just nods silently as you speak, walking past you to take the plate before leaving.

"Thank you." Coriolanus mutters through gritted teeth once your maid is out of earshot.

"Like I said," You smile. "I don't want it to go to waste."

The morning the tributes arrived, Coriolanus was late to class. He had never been late to class, not once, and you would know- because you hadn't either. Not that you were worried, but it was almost the only thing you could think about. It was odd, but he must have gone to greet Lucy Gray. That would be the only thing that made sense.

"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules, Mister Snow." Dean Highbottom says as the blonde boy walks in, uniform disheveled as he finds his seat across the room from you.

You make eye contact only briefly with him as the Dean goes on about how endangering the life of a student is against the rules, and your friend would be accumulating a demerit over the whole thing.

From what you can gather, he did go see Lucy Gray, which went farther than he intended when he ended up escorting her all the way into the monkey cage at the zoo. To you, that was comically appropriate. To Sejanus, it was a crime. Of course it was, his heart never left District Two. As much as you had your differences, Sejanus was a kind boy. You did like him, only after you got it through your mind that if you were to leave the Capitol, you would always be Capitol at heart. You're pulling on a loose string on the hem of your uniform sleeve, more, more, until you've almost undone the whole length of your wrist. When the thread breaks you want to hit something, for little to no reason, and you bite into your bottom lip.

You don't even know why you're so mad. You have a short fuse and you know that, maybe it's about Coryo. Maybe it's about your sleeve that's now slightly longer on one side.

You're drawn from your thoughts as Clemensia stands up from her seat next to Coryo, addressing Dr. Gaul who, as far as you know, had only been in the room for a minute or so. "Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together, I think it would be fitting for us to write up the proposal together too. I have some good ideas for things to be incorporated into the games along with betting." Your eyes roll so hard at this that it makes your head ache.

"I brought her a rose from Grandma'am's garden and she ate it. She needs food." Coryo tells you, walking alongside you down the hall.

"I'll get something together for her. Would you like to come with me to pick it up and then we can go to the zoo?" You ask, adjusting your shoulder bag as he holds the front door open for you.

"Okay. Are you sure you should come?"

"If you would like me to." You shrug, leading him in the direction of your parent's town car.

He thinks on it for a moment. Does he want you to meet Lucy Gray? You were technically also her mentor, even if you were taking a backseat. It struck him again, harder somehow, when he met her in person how similar she was to you. Besides the distinct accent, every word that came out of her mouth sounded as though it could have been written in a script by you. If you were district, that is. It was hard to wrap his mind around.

"I would." He finally answers, more so on impulse than resulting from his thought process.

You smile, linking your arm around his as you approach the vehicle.

"Then we can drop you at Clem's. if you'd like." You offer bitterly and he just gives a curt nod in response.

After getting your maid to pack some food for Lucy Gray with some extra for the two of you, assuming you would be gone for the evening, you got a ride to the zoo. The atmosphere was exciting, with people and children crowding the bars- this time including a few of your classmates. Sejanus, which you had expected, and Arachne- no doubt there to get attention.

"Lucy Gray!" Coryo called out, summoning the girl toward the two of you as you approached the bars marking the edge of the enclosure.

"Well hello, Coriolanus. You brought a friend, care to introduce us?" She smiles, looking between the two of you. Admittedly, you admire her poise, given the situation. Politeness in front of the cameras was a must- she's doing an exemplary job in humanizing herself.

"Lucy Gray, this is my friend Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, meet Lucy Gray." He nods between the two of you and you reach through the bars to shake her hand.

"Hello. Pleasure to meet you." You smile at her, which she returns.

"You as well." She nods, clearly impressed as she looks between you and Coryo. You had decided back at your home to not introduce yourself as another mentor, just as a friend, after gushing the reaction to the other tributes thinking Lucy Gray was getting special treatment this morning when her mentor was the only one to show up. "Coriolanus, is Miss Y/L/N here your sweetheart?"

His face flushes red as he shakes his head, refusing to look at you. You laugh, not noticing his change in undertone as you answer for him. "No, no. Just a friend." You explain, digging in your bag for her food, wanting to quickly change the subject. "We brought you this." You hold out the napkin for her, containing a sandwich, a couple of desserts, and some plums.

"Oh wow, thank you!" Lucy Gray smiles, accepting it gratefully. "Hey, Jessup! Come eat." She calls out to the other tribute from her district, who you remember was assigned to Lysistrata Vickers.

He comes over, but doesn't acknowledge either of you as Lucy Gray holds out one of the dessert bars to him. "I'm not hungry."

"It won't do you any good to starve now. You need your energy." Lucy Gray insists, practically shoving it into his hand.

"I hope you like blueberry." You cut in. "It's a blueberry biscuit with pistachio filling. Made fresh this morning- I promise it's good."

He doesn't say anything, taking it and retreating to the rock he was previously sitting on to eat.

"Will you be sharing everything with him?" Coryo asks her quietly as he walks away.

"Why? So I can keep my energy up enough to strangle him? I don't think that will matter much in a few days."

"You can't trust anyone once the games start, so why trust them now?" You reply quietly, scanning over the other tributes, eyes landing on Arachne taunting her tribute. Of course she would- her arrogance never fails to impress you.

"Your friend over there seems just lovely." Lucy Gray says sarcastically, eyes following yours as you watch your classmate.

"Not our friend." You and Coryo respond at the same time.

"She's poison with perfect teeth." He continues and you nod.

"One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon." Lucy Gray says. You're not sure what she means, but you nod anyway.

"Here, let's sit." You suggest, changing the subject as you crouch down to lay out a cloth on the ground to place the food on.

As you're laying it out carefully between the bars for Lucy Gray, you can feel Coryo's eyes burning into the backs of your hands. Lucy Gray notices this too, handing him a cookie from the pile.

"No, I couldn't." His default response. "You need it more than me."

"You were staring. Here, we'll share." She insists and he takes it gratefully, breaking off a piece and placing it in his mouth.

"Here..." You mumble, digging through your bag again and pulling out the glass container designated for his dinner. You place it in his lap, not giving him the chance to turn it down. "Packed it just for you."

He takes it off his lap, tensely getting up. "I'll be back in a moment." He tells you both, red uniform disappearing behind the small crowd.

"You can see it too?" Lucy Gray asks you, nibbling on half of a sandwich.

You nod slightly, eyes still trying to track him to see where he went, then landing on him talking to Sejanus who's desperately trying to get his tribute, Marcus, to eat some of the food he brought.

"He's quite sensitive about it." You explain. "I appreciate you being kind to him. No one else knows... I think. Regardless, you are very important to him."

She nods a little bit, watching you watch your friend. "Are you just buttering me up?" She jokes and you shake your head, returning your attention to the girl across from you.

"No, I mean it. It's more than the prize for us." You state. "Him." You quickly correct yourself. "I just want to help however I can, if you need anything else just ask, but I'll bring food every day. Or I'll send it with Coryo."

"Coryo, huh?"

"Well, yes. We've been friends for years."

"I see." Lucy Gray nods, both of you watching him make his way back over. You lift up his container of food and hand it to him before he even has the chance to sit down.

"What about you, Lucy Gray? Any friends back home? Family?" You ask, looking away from him as he sits. You want him to eat, but you know he would loathe you for watching, so you direct all your attention to her.

"I'm an orphan, just like Coryo here." She nods to him and his brows furrow at the nickname coming from someone new. "It's just me and the Covey."

"Covey?" You ask.

"Yeah, they're my family and we perform together. It's how we make our change."

"Well, you are a very talented singer. Jaws were on the floor in the Capitol during your performance." You smile.

"I'm not one to go quietly, that's all."

"I'm not either." You agree. "I think we'll be fine friends."

Just at that moment, the three of you hear a scream that has you turning your heads as fast as lightning over to the source, catching the end of Arachne getting her throat slit by her tribute. You and Coriolanus are on your feet in seconds, running over to try and help her just as gunfire rings out, taking down her tribute for the crime of her murder.

You pull off your blazer, both you and Coryo using it to try and stop the bleeding, but you could tell it was no use. By the time you look up, the crowd of spectators was completely gone having rushed for the exits during the attack.

Just as you both realize it's no use, and that she's already dead, you're being pulled away by peacekeepers.

"Hey! Let me go right this second!" You shout, trying to pull away.

"You kids have to get out of here." One of them answers blankly.

"I have to get my stuff!" You complain, trying to wiggle out of their strong grip. "You want me to leave my knife over within reach too? Are you stupid?"

They stop, sighing as they let you go. "Thank you." You huff, readjusting your shirt before walking back over to where you were just sitting with Lucy Gray, quickly gathering your things but leaving food for her.

"Lucy Gray, are you alright?" You ask, seeing her lying on the ground a few feet away from the bars now, just getting up.

She just nods, the fear in her eyes starting to cease.

"You're not shot?" You follow up with, looking over her at the same time she does.

"No, I'm fine. You go." She replies, standing up again and dusting off her dress.

"Thank god. Those idiots are awful shots!" You bite, looking back at the peacekeepers over your shoulder, Coriolanus now nowhere to be seen.

You stand up and pull your bag across your body, walking past them toward the exit as they attempt to guide you in the right direction. "Don't touch me!" You hiss, smacking their hands away.

"Coryo!" You call out, running to catch up with him in the academy hall the next morning. He slows down, glancing over his shoulder and stopping to wait for you.

"Y/N." He states, looking at you expectantly.

"Shall we go see Lucy Gray today?" You ask, reaching up to tighten your ponytail that had come loose in your jog.

"No." He shakes his head, continuing to walk and you follow after him.

"What? Why not? She needs us to bring her food, and we have to-"

"I'll discuss the games with her at the planned meeting this afternoon. You won't be going back to the zoo."

"Excuse me?" You ask, grabbing his arm to stop him in his tracks. "I know I'm like, your assistant, or whatever, but you will not tell me what I can and cannot do."

"It's too dangerous. They are dangerous." Coriolanus argues. "I won't have you ending up like Arachne."

He had been up all night writing his proposal for Dr. Gaul. It was the only thing that could get his mind off the death of his classmate, and off of you. What if it had been you? He should have known it was dangerous, it was his fault. It was his idea that the mentors get closer to the tributes and someone was killed. Arachne's blood was on his hands, and he was just relieved that it wasn't yours staining his uniform instead.

"No. No, she died because she was stupid." You whisper, looking around. "She taunted her tribute and handed her a knife, at that point it's natural selection. I am not her. I am smarter."

He stares down at you, scanning over your features as you beg him to let you continue to help. "You need me, Coriolanus. Admit that much to yourself."

"I don't need you," He spits back. "But I like you much better alive. You are the one person in this school I can stand, I won't lose you over something so reckless." He pulls his arm from your grasp and walks off.

You look around, seeing your classmates staring and you roll your eyes. "Take a picture or something." You say to no one in particular, prompting people to avert their eyes.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @babyspice3, @babyspice6, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore

if your name has a strike-through, that means i was unable to tag you so please double check your user is correct!

fill out my form linked here to join my taglist!

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #lucy gray #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #hunger games #thg

604 notes · View notes

ellephlox · 9 months

Text

Muted Dawn

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Summary: You get mugged in the middle of the night, but Matt isn't there to save you.

Warnings: mugging, canon-typical violence, swearing, injuries, physical/verbal assault

In mid-summer, the midnight air of New York had a surreal balminess to it. You wore a tank top and a thin red jacket on top, your suitcase rolling loudly behind you as you hurried down the sidewalk. Every crack, every pebble, every sewer grate — they were all thunderclaps compared to the otherwise quiet evening. The luggage was too heavy to carry, though, so it would have to roll behind you.

It was a long day. You'd flown out to visit family, and your return flight was supposed to be midday. It had been cancelled, though, leaving you to scramble for a layover that could get you to New York by morning. It was a complete shit show, and you'd had to sprint to your gates at the airport with this stupid shitty suitcase that you were half-tempted to just dump in the garbage.

Matt still thought you'd arrived in the evening. He texted you earlier that he had a case to work on with Foggy, and that he'd be up in the office plowing through work, probably until early morning.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you'd actually touched down in New York at eleven p.m. because that would be a surefire way to pull Matt out of work to meet you at the airport. Dragging him from his responsibilities — which were already too numerous — was the last thing you wanted.

So, solo travel in the middle of the night was your only option. You took the airport train to the nearest station, and from there took a train, and from there took another train that deposited you at 50th Street. Matt's apartment was only a ten minute walk, tops, from the station. Just a short walk. Too short to justify calling an Uber, mostly because you didn't exactly have a lot of money left in your wallet and your next paycheck wasn't for another few days.

Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump—

"Shit," you said aloud, staring between your luggage wheels and the sidewalk, which had switched from mildly smooth to practically cobbled. That didn't bode well for your plan to walk quietly back to the apartment. You snapped the handle down and tried to carry the suitcase again, but managed only to go a few steps before your arm felt as though it were going to break off. "Come on."

"Need some help?" The voice that came from the shadows was most definitely not Matt's, and goosebumps ran down your arms immediately. You didn't bother answering; it was always best to ignore anyone who tried talking to you on the streets of Hell's Kitchen. To regain some speed you pulled your handle back out — no sense in trying to be quiet now — and continued on your way, the thumps more rapid this time as you picked up the pace.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump—

"I asked you a question, darling." To your horror, mingled with the sound of your suitcase wheels smashing along the sidewalk were now footsteps, and a figure appeared in the corner of your eye.

"You gonna answer? Not very nice of you." He jogged in front of you, blocking your way effectively, and now you could properly see him. He was pale — practically pasty in the moonlight — and wore a sweatshirt so stained it might as well have been a used napkin at a greasy fast food joint. He had a beard, untamed and straggly, and despite the wild look to him that suggested he was hungry, he was big. Most definitely someone you didn't want to try taking on in a fight.

"Get the hell out of my way," you snapped at him.

"I want to see what's in that suitcase. It's making a hell of a racket."

"Sorry to disappoint." You tried to weave your way around him, but he stepped in front of you again.

Damn it. You suddenly regretted not texting Matt about your late arrival. If you had, you wouldn't be alone on the street right now — Matt would have been beside you — and this wouldn't be happening. Fear, potent and throbbing, swirled in your stomach like a dense fog. You felt like a wild animal, ensnared in a trap with nowhere to go. You glanced behind you; the street was just as empty and silent, with the few streetlights flickering menacingly as though about to burn out.

"Look, bitch, you want to do this the easy or the hard way?"

"I said, let me get by. I don't want any trouble."

"Trouble?" he said, then laughed, scanning you from head to toe. "You look like little Red Riding Hood. What're you going to do?"

"I can scream. People will come and you'll be in deep shit."

"You're a fucking idiot if you think that. These back streets of Hell's Kitchen are the furthest you can get from help, darling."

"Unless the devil hears me," you breathed out, depending on the hope that this man had heard of Matt's other persona. "Then I have a good feeling your legs will get broken. You heard of him?"

Except the devil wasn't out tonight. He was instead filing paperwork, far away on the other end of the Kitchen, and probably wearing a suit. Unless the man in front of you fell for the bluff... you were thoroughly screwed.

But the man pulled out a gun, which you had not been expecting. "Devil ain't out here. No one's seen him in a few days. Hard way it is, then. You scream, darling, and I'll shoot you between the eyes."

You froze. Never had you felt so helpless in your life. Your heart was banging against your chest like a frantic bird, trying to escape, and yet your limbs wouldn't move, for fear of that black weapon pointing directly at your head. "Please," you said finally, the word coming out in a rasp. "I just want to go home."

"And you can, once you gimme what I want." The man pointed the gun at the suitcase. "Open it up."

You trembled slightly. Should you try fighting him? Sure, Matt had taught you some basic self-defense, but this man had a gun. What could you do against that? Maybe you could try grabbing the gun, or kicking it from his hands, but... that was ridiculous. You had hardly any training. Most likely you'd end up falling on your ass, and then the guy would put a bullet in you.

No, your best chance was to comply. Slowly you bent down and fumbled with the clasp of the suitcase, your hands shaking so hard that it wouldn't open up.

"I said open it!" the man demanded, jabbing the gun against your temple. It was cold and hard, and against your volition you yelped, squeezing your eyes shut. When the bullet didn't come, you slowly opened your eyes, and resumed your struggle with the clasp, finally popping it open. Shame grazed your face as you opened the luggage to unfolded laundry and toiletries haphazardly thrown in; not that this man cared, but somehow you felt as though your last shred of dignity was chewed up and spat on.

Maybe Matt would finish his paperwork early and put on the suit. Maybe he could hear you, right now, and he was on his way, leaping across rooftops. But no one was coming, and you stepped back, allowing the man to root through your belongings. He stooped over the suitcase, his gun now dangling at your side. You eyed him. Though you weren't exactly fast, especially compared to Matt, maybe you could make a break for it, and at least get away. Your suitcase was a lost cause at this point, but frankly, you didn't care.

Do it. Now. While he's distracted. Before you could lose your nerve, you took off, terror burning in your veins and making you pump your arms as hard as you could. You were only a few blocks from home, not far at all —

But footsteps rang behind you, heavy and faster than you. You chanced a look over your shoulder, and hardly had time to react before the man behind you overtook you entirely, tackling you to the sidewalk. Pavement slashed and gnawed against your skin, burning white hot — your cheek, your knees, the palms of your hands.

"Never run away from me like that before I'm done," the man said, in an almost childish way, as though a toy had been taken from him. He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you roughly to your feet. "I'm not finished with you yet."

By this point, tears were flowing down your cheeks, and all sense of shame was gone. Nothing mattered now except surviving, leaving this man and getting into the safety of home. Desperately you thought of the couch, and the shower, and bed, places that had seemed so close just ten minutes ago and now felt impossibly far away. "Please," you begged him. "Please. Take whatever you want, I just want to leave. Please."

He wrenched your arm in response, twisting it back much farther than it wanted to go. You shrieked, thinking that your arm must be broken, but then he let go and slapped your face, right across the cheek that still burned from the fall.

"Quiet!" he said roughly. "Let me finish." He kept his grip on your arm as he bent down to return to the suitcase, and you were yanked off your feet, falling to the ground like some absurd doll in the hands of an aggressive six-year-old. You didn't watch closely what the man took, because your vision was too blurred, but a dazed glance downwards told you that your laptop, earbuds, and jewelry were gone.

"Where's your wallet?" he asked, turning back to you. You didn't question him at all and reached into your pocket, your fingertips searching obediently for the wallet. Where are you, Matt? The man wasn't patient, though, and plunged his hand into your pocket to take over. You stayed stock still, the feeling of his hand against your thigh more disturbing than you could have predicted, as he extracted the wallet, then your phone, and pushed you away.

"Now here's what's going to happen," he said, pulling the gun out again. "I'm gonna let you live, because bodies are hard to take care of. But if you try squealing, if you go running off to a cop — if you tell anyone at all, I swear I'm going to find you and kill you." He took out your license and read it aloud — your name, your height, your weight, your address. "See, darling, I know everything about you. And if I get a whiff that you've tried telling someone about this little exchange we had tonight, I'll come to your address, and I'll slit your throat. Got it, darling?"

You nodded violently.

"Now get out of here," he said, and shoved you one last time. You didn't hesitate, and ran.

He could have taken more. Your clothing, your bracelet from Matt that you wore, your body, your life. All those you still had. The things he'd taken were meaningless, just trinkets. Things you could buy again.

But this reasoning didn't comfort you at all, and the moment you were in the safety of the apartment, with the door locked, you broke down altogether. You could hardly breathe, and every two seconds you ran to the window to check the street, certain that you'd see that stained sweatshirt ambling along the sidewalk, or hear a sudden knock at the door. Your phone was gone, so there was no way to call 911 if you needed to. And Matt wouldn't be able to reach you, either. You wished, like never before, that you could have his hearing. The ability to know when Matt was on his way back, and to hear him coming down the sidewalk, would be infinitely comforting; even more so would be the assurance that you'd hear that man who mugged you if he decided to come to the apartment.

But all you could hear was the whir of the refrigerator and your own shallow breaths.

It was therefore a heart-wrenching shock when you heard the deadbolt unlock, maybe an hour later. Maybe two hours later, or three. You weren't sure; time was a vortex, or even a black hole, with an event horizon so monstrous that everything was sucked into it.

Matt's home. As if you were dropped into an icy bath, you suddenly leapt to your feet. You hadn't showered. Your clothing was torn at the knees, and that man's scent was probably all over you, not to mention blood was smeared across your face and hands from the scrapes. Not good. Not good at all.

You ran into the bathroom just as the front door sprung open, and you only caught the smallest glimpse of the storm cloud of emotion already on Matt's face before you slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it.

Why, exactly, you were hiding from him, when there was no doubt he could smell the man and blood either way, wasn't clear to you. Maybe it was the shame of him seeing you like this. He was so capable, so responsible, and to sense you on the floor like a puddle... it made you feel even worse than you already felt. Yes, you'd wanted Matt to save you, but it was too late now, wasn't it? Now you were just going to be another thing he had to take care of.

So, a shower it was.

Matt's fist pounded on the door. "Y/N? What happened?"

"I'm showering."

"It's two in the morning. I can smell your blood and your heart is flying. What happened?"

This time, it wasn't Matt asking, but the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. You could hear it in the low growl of his voice, the restlessness that simultaneously wanted to defend you as well as throw a punch at something.

"I'm okay, Matt. I'm okay. I just need a minute to clean up," you told him, starting the water. "Please."

"Y/N, if you don't unlock this door, I'm going to knock it off its hinges."

The thought made new tears spring to your eyes all over again. Your money — all gone. You'd have to cancel your credit cards now. And while you'd spent most of your money while visiting family, you'd had at least two twenties in your wallet — forty dollars, now gone, and forty dollars less to fix a broken door with.

Matt must have sensed the tears, because his next words were much gentler. "Whatever happened, you can tell me. I can—"

He fell silent. You peeled off your jacket, examining the scrapes on your hands briefly. Those would sting in the water, undoubtedly. Taking care of them was an imperative. Matt had a case to work on, and a city to save. The thought of him being preoccupied with your damn hands was enough to make you want to throw your fist into the wall with anger. Anger with yourself. How could you have let yourself get mugged? If you'd just called a fucking Uber from the station, then this would never have happened.

Matt said something on the other side of the door, too softly for you to hear.

"Didn't catch that," you said, as casually as possible. Priority number one was making sure Matt didn't know the extent to which you were freaked out.

"I said, who did this?"

"I don't know," you said evenly. It was harder than you thought it would be to keep your voice steady, when every instinct in you wanted to say it with a sob, and to curl back up on the floor. Standing was too hard, listening to Matt was too hard, simply breathing was too hard — every time you closed your eyes, the feeling of the gun against your temple returned to you.

There was a sudden click, and the door swung open. Matt had unlocked it, somehow, and you didn't have the energy to question how he'd done it.

His presence was like a live electric wire as he stepped into the room. You could feel the tension rising within him, threatening to spill over if you didn't give a name or a hint of what happened. You crossed your arms, wishing you'd left your jacket on, even though it didn't make a difference for what Matt could sense about you. The scrape on your face seared angrily and the fleeting thought passed through you that Matt could probably feel the heat of it just as clearly as you.

"I said I was fine," you said finally, keeping your voice controlled. "I told you I needed a minute."

"That doesn't matter when you're hurt. I need to know how hurt. Let me just feel—"

"Matt, please." You were shaking now, and torn between collapsing into his arms and never letting him know the extent to which you were absolutely petrified. Matt froze.

"Do you need me to leave?" he asked softly.

"I... no. I don't know what I need. I need..." A thrill of horror raced through you at the realization that you hadn't checked the window in awhile. What if the man was coming up the street now, on his way to break in and finish the deed with a bullet in your head? A bullet in Matt's head? You brushed by him and hurried to the window, squinting out at the dark.

Matt followed, and this time he didn't wait before coming up right behind you and cupping your cheek with his hand. It was gentle, but not a romantic act — you could feel the way his fingertips grazed over the scrape, accounting for the grit and sweat and blood that adorned it. Unable to bring yourself to move, you stood like a deer in the headlights as his hands then moved to your temples.

"No concussion," he said, but his jaw remained just as tight as he lowered his fingers to your own hands, breezing over them gingerly.

"These scrapes need to be cleaned." His face tensed as his hand hovered near your thigh. "Did he—?"

"No. No, I was just..." Mugged. It was too embarrassing to admit, and the word lodged in your throat. "Just some things were taken. Phone. Wallet. Suitcase."

"Jesus, at seven in the evening? Did anyone see? I want a name. A description. Anything. I'll find him and—"

"It wasn't seven in the evening." You dipped your head, tears welling again. "My plane was delayed."

You feared that he was going to be pissed, but instead he simply looked bemused. "Why didn't you say anything? I would've met you at the airport."

"Because you had work," you said, more stiffly. "And I know that me getting robbed looks bad, but I don't want to be your burden. Foggy needed your help tonight, not me."

"Not you? That's bullshit, Y/N," Matt said, and the electricity that had been buzzing in his movements finally exploded. "The reason I put on the damn suit anyway is because I care about people, including you. And you — you're above the rest, because I love you. Don't you see that? I need this, I need to find whoever did this, because if I don't, then I've failed you. I've failed myself, I've failed the city, I've failed my faith."

"Matt, it's not that serious. I overreacted, that's all."

"Like hell you overreacted. How do you think I felt when I left work and heard your heartbeat from two blocks away, racing like you were staring death in the face? When I got into the apartment and could smell your blood? When I came in here and could taste your fear?"

"I didn't ask you to sense those things," you snapped, and the moment the words were out of your mouth, you regretted them. It wasn't as though you could have simply elected to not see Matt that time he'd arrived at the apartment, torn up and bloody, or simply turned your head when you'd heard him yelling in the hospital as Claire stitched up his guts. In fact, it was impossible to not pay attention even more at times like that. Your mouth was dry as you shook your head. "I'm sorry, Matt. I don't mean that."

Still, he didn't get mad at you. "I know."

And it was that, his patience despite the energy palpitating in his fists that made you sink onto the couch, placing your face in your hands. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I... I can tell you what happened. It's just that admitting it makes it so much more real. It's humiliating."

Matt sat next to you, just shy of touching you. Waiting for your permission, likely. "Who was it?"

"Bearded man. Stained sweatshirt, really large — probably six foot four."

"Where?"

"Three blocks directly west of us."

"How did you get the scrapes?"

You closed your eyes. "I tried to get away. He tackled me. There was a gun, too. He kept it pointed at my head, and — Oh, God. He said if I told anyone, that he'd come here. He's got our address because of my license. He said he'd come here with the gun and—"

"Pointed at your head?" Matt's voice dropped to a dangerous low again, reminiscent of the devil. "You could've been killed." He got to his feet, stalking to the cabinet and unbuttoning his shirt.

"Matt," you said weakly, unsure of how to make the request for him to stay. He wanted to leave. He needed to let out the energy and protect, as was his standard, but you needed him to protect from here. The thought of being alone in the apartment was unbearable; you wanted him by your side, keeping you safe with his presence, not the mask.

"I wasn't there for you." Matt's fists were clenching and unclenching rhythmically as he stood in front of the suit, shirtless. Contemplating, or strategizing? You weren't sure. "I — if he had shot you — I can't—"

"Matt," you said again, louder this time. "I need—"

You were about to say "you" but the energy broiling in Matt's stance made you fall short. He needed to do this. You could be alone for a bit longer, you told yourself. "I need the bandages," you finished. "They're... not in the bathroom."

"They're under the kitchen sink," Matt said, and suddenly he turned around, his expression softer. "Let me help."

Inwardly sighing, you sat on the armchair, hugging your knees, while Matt cleaned your scrapes with a steady hand. He didn't say a word as he worked, his eyes darting about uncharacteristically. You still couldn't get a read on exactly what he was thinking. There was no chance he'd be angry at you, but that didn't preclude him from being disappointed.

How many other people would have been able to hold their own against that man? Everyone else in Matt's circle would have been capable. Frank, Jessica, Danny, Luke — they wouldn't have been even fazed at all. Elektra would have had a field day with him. Even Karen and Foggy had proved themselves quick to react in dangerous situations, and you couldn't help but think anyone in that situation other than you would have walked away unscathed. Your cheeks burned at the thought, as much as you willed them not to.

"What is it?" Matt said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.

Of course he'd notice the shift in your temperature.

"Maybe I deserved it," you said, a bit bitterly. "I shouldn't have been walking out there. Like you said, I could've called you. And I didn't. I could've learned more self-defense over the past few years, and I haven't. It's my own stupidity that's got me where I am."

Matt stilled. "You're blaming yourself?"

"I'm blaming my lack of foresight."

He resumed dabbing at your hands, and was silent for so long that you thought he wasn't going to answer. Finally, he said, "With that line of reasoning, then it's my fault Elena Cardenas was killed. I should have done more."

"That's not the same, and you know it."

He ignored you. "It's also my fault that Foggy got shot, that time we were in Reyes's office. If I had been listening more closely to what was going on down the street, then I would have heard the threat coming sooner."

"Matt, come on. You know what I meant."

"And it's my fault that Fisk got out of prison. If I had the wherewithal to kill him the first day I met him, he would never have—"

"Stop it!"

"Do you get it?" he whispered. "It's not your fault. We could preoccupy ourselves all day with the ifs that might have changed what happened. But you can't beat yourself up over the ifs that you couldn't have predicted. The bad people in this world don't get to benefit from your own self-degradation. Never take the fall for something they've done."

You let out a short laugh through the tears that caught in your eyes. "You give great advice, Matt, but you're terrible at following it yourself."

"Touché. Take off your pants for me?"

You smiled. "You really know how to sweet-talk a girl."

Matt brushed his thumbs over the corners of your eyes, exactly where they were still damp. "Well, maybe once your knees are cleaned up, I'll show you how it's really done."

You pulled off your pants and tossed them onto the couch. "You're not... heading out onto the street?"

"I'd rather be here."

You hardly dared to believe it. "You sure?"

"Positive." He didn't hesitate as he bent down onto the floor, methodically poring over the scrapes with the washcloth. "You're my priority."

A warm glow flushed through your cheeks, this time out of relief, and the smile that tugged at Matt's lips told you that he sensed it. You let him finish bandaging up your knees before you grabbed his arm and pulled him next to you on the armchair. There wasn't much space, but you lifted your knees so that he was partially underneath you, squeezed next to one another so tightly that you could feel his heartbeat.

"Hey," you said, after a moment. "How'd you unlock the bathroom door without a key so quickly?"

"It's an easy trick. Stick showed me years ago."

"Can you show me?"

"A good magician keeps his secrets," Matt said. At your frown, he laughed. "I'll show you tomorrow."

"I love you," you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I love you more than you'll ever know," he answered. You fell asleep to his hand running through your hair, the billboard outside rotating between hues of violet and cobalt, and the faint thrum of the muted air conditioner in the apartment above.

When you woke, you were in bed. It was still early; the dawn outside was muted. Matt must have carried you into the bedroom, because you had no memory of moving in there yourself. For a moment you feared he had taken to the streets, but feeling the warmth on your left, he was still there, and had been for some time. You shifted, trying to get nearer to his warmth. He said nothing but tugged you in even closer, his arms and legs thrown over you protectively.

What if you had been shot and killed? The thought was eerie. This bed would be empty. Matt would surely be out for the man's blood. And all this... you wouldn't ever get to experience it again. It was far too easy to take each day for granted. Far, far too easy.

One day at a time, then, you decided, and closed your eyes again as Matt's hand crept over your own.

#matt murdock #reader insert #matt murdock x reader #marvel #daredevil #daredevil x reader #reader #mcu #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #hurt/comfort

770 notes · View notes

allllium · 3 months

Text

Pinky Promise

~ This definitely ended up longer than I meant it to be but no regrets, Matt is so adorable in this.

~ Fluff, Angst but not really? More like play fighting. Reader is referred to as Matt's girlfriend but other than that gender neutral. WC: 1,939

~ Matt tells you he's Daredevil

You have been filled with anxiety all day after a text from Matt. This morning he asked you to come to his apartment as soon as you could after work. He wouldn't say anything else about it, just that it was very important.

Matt has a habit of not believing he deserves good things. Throughout your relationship, you have done everything in your power to prove him wrong. But still, when he says he needs to talk to you, about something really important, your mind falls to the worst-case scenario.

“Matty, I'm here.” You announce as you walk into your boyfriend's apartment.

“Oh hey, sweetheart.” He greets you at the door, as he always does. He is the perfect gentleman.

“Hi.” You let out, trying not to let your anxiety be too obvious. “What did you want to talk about?”

He opens his mouth to say something before immediately shutting it again. “I ordered some food. It should be here anytime.”

“Is there a reason you're trying to change the subject?” He grabs your hands and leads you over to the couch. Sitting down, he pulls you down onto his lap.

“No, I'm just letting you know. I know how you get about your food.”

“Mhm. And is that the only reason?”

“I have to tell you something.” Oh no. You know what this is about. This day had to come eventually.

“Okay, what is it?” You let out a soft sigh. It wasn't hard to figure out once you got together.

“I don't want you to be mad at me.”

“Matt I won't get mad, I promise.”

“How do you know?” His eyes show you how worried he is.

“Because I love you.” You grab his hand and lean into him more. “And unless you're about to tell me that you cheated, I won't be mad.”

“What! I would never!”

“I know, baby. It was just an example.” You almost laugh at the surprised expression that covers his face.

“Well, you know how I became blind.” He begins.

You were right, he's about to tell you he's Daredevil. Yes, you already know. For two reasons. One, a blind man can't do everything he does, the way he caught you when you fell on one of your dates, or the way he knows where things are without being told. Two, Foggy. He didn't mean to tell you but you had your suspicions and you may have tricked Foggy into secretly confirming for you.

Foggy has no idea what he said allowed you to know the truth and you never told him so he wouldn't feel bad about accidentally exposing his best friend's secret. You're not proud of it but your curiosity got the best of you.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Uhh, it did more than make me lose my sight.” You weren't able to confirm anything about the accident but if Matt is Daredevil then something had to have happened for it to be possible.

“What else did it do?”

“It heightened all of my other senses.” You squeeze his hand to encourage him to continue. “I can hear things from very far away and smell things better than normal.” No shit.

“How much better?” As much as you already know, there are a lot of specifics you still don't understand.

“I can smell what you have eaten all day, I can hear your heart beating and I can tell when you're making a face.” That's a lot more than you thought. “I can hear everyone in this building and mostly tell what they're doing.”

You immediately scramble off his lap.

“Did I weird you out?” The lace of sadness in his voice breaks your heart.

“No it's not you, I'm just weirdly aware of myself now.” You assure him. You don't know how to describe it like you're going over everything you did in the day to try and figure out what Matt can tell.

“You don't have to be, sweetheart. You're not the weird one here.”

“Matt, you're not weird. You're perfect. You can't control what happened to you or what it caused these senses. I don't know. You can smell me and hear me? It's just a lot.”

“That's not even the part I'm trying to tell you.”

“Matt, I have to be honest with you. I know.” You whisper.

“You know?” He asks in shock. “Know what?”

“That you're Daredevil.” Your voice grows even quieter.

“What? How?” He exclaims, standing up to meet you.

“I don't know. One day I was just thinking and kinda put it together!”

“When?” His voice booms around the small apartment.

“A few months ago. There was this clip of Daredevil on the news and he looked so familiar so I started thinking about the injuries you get, how you disappear at night, how you can catch me when I fall. It became really obvious and then..” You stop your rant, not wanting to expose Foggy. Even though he had no idea what the conversation was about, you still feel terrible.

“And then?”

“I may have tricked Foggy into confirming it for me.” Matt’s face quickly shows anger and disbelief. “I swear he has no idea I know anything, he didn't mean to confirm anything.”

“Why didn't you just ask me?” Is he serious right now?

“Because you never would've told me! We've been together for almost a year now and you're just now trusting me with this! I'm the one that gets to be pissed right now, not you!”

“Okay you're right I should have told you but I was just scared that..”

“No.” You hold your hand out and interrupt him. “I swear Matt, if the next thing you say is that you were protecting me, I will beat your ass.”

“That was one of the reasons, yes.” You step forward, fully intent on keeping your word. “Let me explain.” He smiles and pushes you away.

“Fine but it better be good.” You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows to show how serious you are.

“I wasn't just worried about your safety, I was worried that you would feel different about me. Maybe even leave me.”

“Matt, I love you. And I know you doubt yourself but I would never leave you for that. You could kill a million people and I wouldn't leave you.”

He gives you a very concerned look. “That's not good, we need to talk about that.”

“Eh.” You wave him off. “We need to talk about all this shit,” You move your hands over his body. “All this self-deprecating shit you do.”

“Oh well, I'm so sorry for believing you deserve the world.” He says as sarcastically as possible.

“Exactly. Think more like that.” You nod.

“I'm not gonna do that.”

“We are getting off topic.”

“Is there more to talk about?” You can tell he's worried about you knowing the details.

“We are one month away from our first anniversary and you're just telling me this now, that's not okay Matthew!”

“I know! I didn't want to wait this long but the more I thought about telling you the more I thought about losing you and I can't handle that.”

“Wait so why did you want to tell me today? Are you okay with losing me today?” You half-joke.

“No, because Karen told me if I didn't she would, and I know you should hear this from me.”

“Yeah you're right but this needed to happen forever ago!”

“I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, sweetheart, I know I should've. But out of curiosity, when would've been the best time to tell you?” He asks sincerely, sitting back on the couch.

“Why? Want advice for your next girlfriend?” You can't help but tease. Sitting back down on his lap.

“I'm never gonna have another girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah? And you're sure about that?”

“What does that mean?” He asks in fake concern, used to your teasing antics.

“I don't know. What do you think it means?”

“This isn't funny.” He says while he laughs. “I can't tell if you're mad at me or me.”

“Oh, I'm very mad.”

“About me being Daredevil?”

“No, Matty about you keeping it from me. What you do for people in danger is amazing. I love that you use your senses selflessly. I mean I hate the fact that you get hurt in the process but clearly, you can handle yourself.”

“You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that.”

“I'm glad I could help. But seriously the next time you keep a secret like this for that long, we're over.” You make eye contact with him as you say this, needing him to know you're not joking.

“I promise I won't.”

“Good! Now onto that not having a next girlfriend thing?”

“Ugh, do we have to?” He leans back, making you yelp as you fall into him.

“Yes, we have to. I want to hear you say it.”

“It means I want to marry you.” You giggle at his words.

“I knew it, you're obsessed with me.”

“Does that mean you want to marry me too?” He asks hopefully. You almost feel bad for your next words.

“Hmm. I'll tell you next year.”

He runs his hands over his face. “You are not funny.” He says that but you can see the smile he's hiding.

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings. Perfect timing. “You keep a secret, I keep a secret.” You shrug and head to answer the door.

When you go back to the couch and set the food on the coffee table, Matt pulls you into him once again.

“Someone's touchy today.”

“Just happy you're not trying to beat my ass.”

“I would win.”

“Oh definitely.” You feel him smile on your neck. “Are you gonna make me wait another year to propose?”

“Sorry baby but you know I don't marry someone before the second year.”

“You're killing me y'know.” He groans loudly in your ear, making you lean away from his ticklish breath.

“Maybe your next girlfriend will marry you before the first anniversary.” You yelp again as he pulls you even further into him, using his strength to make sure you're as close as possible.

“Sweetheart you are the last girlfriend I'll ever have.”

“Oh, I know I am.”

“Oh god, what does that mean?”

“It means if you ever have another girlfriend I'll haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Haunt me? Are you dead in this scenario?” He asks in obvious confusion.

“Yes because I'm never gonna let you leave me.”

“I'm beginning to think you're a little crazy.”

“Crazy about you.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“That was terrible.”

“That was amazing, I'm a great flirt.”

“Yes, you are.” He chuckles, in that amazing deep voice. “I'm sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“I'm sorry for not asking you directly and using Foggy.”

He holds his hand out to you, sticking out his pinky.

“What's this?”

“A pinky promise.”

“Oh, a pinky promise with the devil.”

“Stop that, I promise not to lie to you again and you promise to ask me things instead of tricking poor Foggy.”

“Okay fine. Pinky promise.” You link your finger with him.

“I love you.”

“Aww thank you.” You laugh at his surprised expression.

“Say it back.” He whines.

“I don't wanna.” You can't hide the smile on your face.

Matt takes a second to stop himself from smiling before making the biggest, most dramatic frown.

“Fine, I love you too.” You break out in giggles as he tackles you.

#matt murdock my beloved #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock reader insert #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfic #matt murderdock x female reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fics

218 notes · View notes