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bellaxgiornata · 4 months

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The Devil at Your Window |1: Snowed In|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 8k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series summary: In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?

a/n: Just a short collection of one shots that I'll update whenever the ideas strike. It'll be told in a style like Falling for the Devil but it won't get nearly as long (unless y'all end up loving it, too). I just couldn't deny giving us all the fantasy of black suit Matt reappearing at your apartment window and all the flirting, sexual tension, feelings, and naughty things that might ensue... The installment list for this little series can be found here and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer

Picking up the steaming mug of tea you’d just finished making from off the kitchen counter, you cradled your other hand around the warmth of the ceramic and drew it towards your chest as you turned and headed back towards your living room. The small spot of heat against the front of your sweatshirt caused a shiver to run down your spine as your sock-clad feet padded along the cold hardwood floor and back towards your couch.

It was freezing inside your apartment tonight and the blustering snow storm raging outside in Hell’s Kitchen wasn't helping. Thankfully your office had already announced its closure for tomorrow before you'd finished work earlier this evening. The snow had already started to dump from the sky before you’d even left the office, falling heavy and wild as it accumulated in a cover of white that blanketed everything in the city. It would have been beautiful if you hadn’t needed to walk home afterwards in the frigid mess–especially with the way the large clumps of snowflakes pelted and battered you in the face over and over, the cold stinging at your skin.

The city was expected to get a whopping eighteen inches of snowfall minimum over the next twenty-four hours, so you were grateful that your boss wanted as little to do with making it into work tomorrow as you did, especially because you couldn’t afford to do anything but walk to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through all of that mess and slip on a patch of ice, inevitably falling in a massive pile of snow and leaving you stuck in damp dress clothes all day.

No, you'd rather stay dry and cozy at home enjoying a lazy day off of work.

You were just hoping the power in your apartment building remained intact throughout the fury of the winter storm. You didn’t want to think about losing the heat in your building in the middle of all of this. Another shiver ran through you as you pushed the thought away–hopefully not something you’d need to worry about tonight.

But since you didn’t have work first thing in the morning, you had every intention of enjoying your night. You’d immediately come home and thrown off your dress clothes before settling on something comfortable–soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt sans bra underneath. Then you’d made dinner and cleaned it up fast before claiming your ‘spot’ for the evening on your couch. Which consisted of both of your blankets and the television remote while you binged a guilty pleasure show that you hadn’t had time to catch up on for the past few weeks. Tonight you were intending to stay up a bit late, cozy up beneath your blankets, drink some hot tea, and lose yourself in the plot and romance of the show before eventually dragging your tired ass to bed in the hopes of sleeping in tomorrow to make up for staying up late.

Eyes focused on the paused television screen as you moved, you rounded the side of your couch while drawing your steaming mug up to your lips. You sipped at the warm liquid, reveling in it for a moment before you swallowed it down. You could feel it heat you from the inside out as a pleasant sensation washed over you. Your eyes closed briefly for a moment–it was the first time you’d actually felt warm today.

Opening your eyes, you continued towards the couch and began to lower yourself down onto the cushions while trying not to spill any of your tea from the mug. Just as you were about to sit back down on the couch and cocoon yourself in both of your blankets, ready to settle in for more of your show, something outside the window to your right caught your attention. Your head spun in the direction just as a flash of black dashed past the window and a loud bang reverberated through your apartment.

A frightened yelp slipped out of you at the sound and you clutched your mug tight to your chest, your heart thudding heavily in terror. Whatever had just literally dropped onto your fire escape had been large, especially with the sound of that impact. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you stared transfixed at the window, almost ridiculously terrified it would be some sort of wild animal–like a bear or a wolf–on your fire escape.

Though, more realistically considering you were in New York City, you knew it was probably a burglar. Who else would be traversing fire escapes late at night? Especially dressed in all dark clothes? Except…that also seemed a little ridiculous, too. There was a literal blizzard happening outside, meaning everyone would be home. In their apartments. Making it impossible for a burglar to break into anyone’s place unseen. Plus, it was insane outside, what criminal would risk dealing with that right now?

So what the hell had just fallen onto your fire escape?

Another thought struck you soon after and your lips parted in shock at the idea as you blew out the breath you’d been holding. With trembling hands, you very slowly reached out, carefully placing your mug of tea onto the coffee table before you without taking your eyes off of your window. Gradually, almost nervously, you rose to your feet before taking hesitant step after hesitant step forward. Another sharp, surprised gasp flew out of you when you saw the dark figure sit upright on your fire escape, bent in half as if they were in pain. Which made sense, considering the fall they’d just taken.

But your body froze up instantly at the sight of the man dressed in all black bent in half and dusted in white patches of snow. He wasn’t a burglar at all. With the black cloth tied over his head and the form fitting shirt he was wearing, there was absolutely no mistaking who he was. You'd certainly seen enough images of him plastered across the media.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just fallen onto your fire escape.

Eyes widening in shock at the infamous vigilante attempting to pull himself up to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding onto the metal railing of your fire escape, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to check on him. To make sure he wasn’t seriously injured from that fall.

Without thinking your actions through, you crossed the last few steps to the window and unlatched the locks before pushing it up. The masked figure immediately spun towards you at the sound as a bitter gust of wind burst its way into your apartment, chilling you instantly while those thick snowflakes once again assailed your face. For a moment you locked eyes with him–or at least, it seemed like you did despite the fabric covering half of his face–as your mouth hung open. You suddenly found yourself at a loss of what to say in the moment. And considering the way his lips thinned out along his face and the way he remained silent, he clearly wasn’t going to strike up a conversation with you, either.

Eyes darting down, you saw he had one gloved hand clutching at his right side as if it hurt him. His shoulders were hunched in on himself as his back faced the violent winds blowing snow relentlessly. Seeing him in person for the first time ever–something you’d never expected in your life considering how elusive the media made him out to be–you realized just how thin and unprotective his clothes really were. Especially tonight considering the cold weather. He had to be freezing.

An icy wind whistled loudly, another flurry of heavy snowflakes pelting you right in the face and breaking you from your thoughts. Blinking the snow from your lashes, you finally found your voice.

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure how one should approach the masked man. “I just–just saw you fall. It looked like it hurt.”

He gave a curt shake of his head, wincing before he turned more towards the railing. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied.

Something warm flooded your veins at the gravelly tone of his voice. It suited him somehow, even if it sounded fake. Like he was pitching his voice lower to sound like someone else in order to hide his identity. Not that you'd probably have recognized him anyway.

With his back partially to you now, especially this close when there was barely a few feet of space between the pair of you, you could see just how incredibly muscular this man was. His black shirt clung to him like a second skin, the toned abdominal muscles on his upper body clearly visible even from just his profile. Even the pectoral muscles of his chest were well defined and visible beneath the sheen of black. His arms were thick–far too big for just one of your hands to wrap around. And as your gaze lingered lower, you fought back the thoughts that entered your mind at the sight of how large his thighs were in those tight pants–and how pleasant a profile his ass also had. You wondered briefly if he'd gained all that from working out or if it had more to do with his nightly activities.

Though when you saw him grab onto the metal railing of your fire escape with both of his gloved hands, the movement drawing your attention away from observing him as he attempted to swing himself over it, you nearly screamed as you lurched forward. You lived on the fifth floor, was this man really about to fling himself off of the fire escape from all the way up here?

But the scream died in your throat the moment he cried out in pain, his feet slipping from off of the railing as he fell back onto your fire escape. He let out a hiss of pain as he clutched at his clearly injured side.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, shoving the window open wider despite the cold and snow and leaning further forward. “You’re clearly not okay. Do you need something? An ambulance or something? Is there someone I can call? Or–or something I can do to help?”

The man rolled off his injured side and onto his back, gradually turning towards you as he lay on the fire escape. You hadn’t expected the amused and pained chuckle he emitted while the snow accumulated on the entire front of him, lightly covering the thin layer of his black shirt. Which you’d noticed had ridden up, revealing a small sliver of skin just above the dark, form fitting pants he was wearing. You tried hard to not keep glancing back at that patch of skin as it slowly rose higher and higher, unsure why you were so distracted by it.

The sound of his amusement soon drew you back to the moment and you cringed. Why the hell was he laughing?

“Are you alright? Did you…hit your head?” you asked him cautiously. “Maybe you have a concussion…”

Another amused sound slipped out of him, but that was quickly followed by a pained groan as he tried to once again rise up onto his feet. “I don’t have a concussion,” he assured you.

“You sure?” you asked, an eyebrow arching onto your forehead as you crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm when you began to shiver from the cold. “Because this doesn’t seem like a funny situation to me.”

“Well,” he grunted out, wincing as he drew back up to his full height, “normally I’m the one offering assistance, not the other way around. So yeah,” he continued with a faint shrug, your eyes once again catching the way he was holding his side, “it’s kind of amusing. In an…irritating sort of way.”

Your heart sank to your stomach at his words. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered, heat rushing up to your face instantly. “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I was just concerned–”

He took a half step forward, cutting you off as he waved a hand between the pair of you. He shook his head, letting out a slight huff of laughter. “No, I didn’t mean you were irritating. Just…this situation. The–the snow and the falling part.” In a quieter voice he added, “And having an audience for it.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you stood there studying him for a moment. He was injured and wearing barely anything at all in the middle of a blizzard. He looked like he needed help even if he seemed like the type not to ask for it.

“Do you want to come inside?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. “I mean, to get warm and maybe sit down for a moment? I could call an ambulance or–or a taxi or something to bring you to a hospital.”

Another amused huff of laughter slipped out of him as he shook his head. “No hospitals, please. I’ll be alright. But…if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a moment to warm up.” His gloved hand lowered, pinching a bit of fabric from his shirt as he glanced down at it. “Admittedly this doesn’t offer much protection from the elements.”

You eyed the thin material between his gloves doubtfully. “Doesn’t look like it offers much protection from anything,” you told him.

A surprised bark of laughter peeled out of him, the sound drawing a smile onto your face. You’d made the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laugh. Now that was something you weren’t going to forget anytime soon. He didn’t seem like the type to break character easily.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” he agreed, his laughter subsiding.

Taking a step back from the window, you waved a hand towards him, gesturing for him to come inside. “How about you come in so I can close this window and we both can stop freezing?” you suggested, surprised at how bold you sounded considering who it was you were speaking with. “I’m shivering already so I can only imagine how cold you must be.”

You watched as his lips curled up into a charming grin at the corners, just beneath the black fabric of his mask. It was impossible to deny that he had a handsome face–at least, from what you could see of it. You imagined the rest of it to be just as attractive beneath that cloth and a sudden intense curiosity to know what the rest of it looked like overtook you as you watched him carefully climb through your opened window. He moved slowly, wincing in pain as he made his way inside. Despite his tough act, that fall must’ve really hurt his side and you frowned, wishing he’d accept your offer to help. There was no way he was as fine as he claimed to be, surely he needed medical attention.

“Takes a special kind of person to just invite me into their home so readily,” the Devil’s rough tone came out as he turned his back to you, shutting the window after himself. “Normally people prefer to avoid me.”

“You’re not dangerous,” you replied almost instantly.

The window closed with a sharp clack before his masked face turned over his snow-dusted shoulder, his attention fixed on you. “Oh?” he asked curiously, a smirk growing over his lips. “I’m not?”

Your eyes were drawn to his mouth, though it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to look when you spoke to him with that mask covering most of his face. The smirk appeared teasing, and for some reason that had the hair on the back of your neck bristling. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra beneath your loose sweatshirt and it was now cold in your apartment. Quickly your arms wrapped over your chest, hugging yourself tight. His lips almost seemed to curl ever higher in response.

“I mean, you are ,” you amended, “but to, you know, criminals.”

You swallowed hard when he remained still, gazing at you over his shoulder wordlessly.There was something almost predatory in the way he was studying you. It was easy to see how this lone man terrified the criminals on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, striking fear into them. He certainly had a presence. Goosebumps rippled beneath the sleeves of your sweatshirt at his continued silent stare.

“Right?” you asked tentatively, voice softer.

His smirk vanished as the other corner of his mouth curled upwards into what felt like a warm smile despite you being unable to see if it reached his eyes. He nodded gently, turning slowly back towards you as he did.

“That's correct,” he agreed, brushing the snow from his broad shoulders. “I’m only dangerous to criminals. So unless you’re hiding any dead bodies or have some outstanding charges…?”

You laughed, though abruptly you snatched your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to quiet the noise instantly. He was witty and funny. You weren’t anticipating that. Or the way your reaction to his quips seemed to please him, like he was trying to charm you. Which seemed even more curious, considering who he was and what he spent his nights doing.

“Can't say that I do,” you said. “I'm probably the most boring person in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Well now,” he replied teasingly, “don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you're not taking that title all by yourself.”

That charming smile was back on his face and it had your stomach fluttering. Tearing your eyes away from him, you noticed the television was still paused on your show. Paused on a scene where the two actors on screen were clearly about to kiss. Cheeks burning, you hurried over and grabbed the remote from the couch and turned it off.

“You can make yourself comfortable if you want,” you told him, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your tone. “I've got a couple of blankets you can use to help warm you up.”

His heavy boots thudded with each of his steps as he crossed the room and made his way to the couch. You bent over, grabbing both blankets from your place on the couch where you'd previously been curled up as he passed behind you. The moment one of his cold gloves brushed against your back, you froze.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“No it's–it's fine,” you replied.

He passed behind you before settling onto the opposite end of the couch from where you had clearly taken residence. You forced a smile onto your face as you turned and leaned over, holding out the blankets towards him.

Pull yourself together , you internally chastised yourself. Just because it's been a while since you've had a man here doesn't mean you need to react to every little thing. That's not what this is, obviously.

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the blankets from your outstretched hand.

You nodded before sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping space between you and him. Curling your legs up under yourself, you watched as the Devil wasted no time throwing both blankets around himself, beginning to visibly shiver beneath them as he tried to warm up.

“Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone?” you asked him.

“No one to call,” he answered. “And a hospital would defeat the purpose of trying to remain anonymous.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you muttered, glancing away and spotting the forgotten tea on your coffee table. “Would you like something to drink at least? Some water or some hot tea, maybe?”

His masked head tilted curiously to the side at your question, a grin returning to his plush lips. “Playing hostess?” he asked.

“Well I'm sure you've got to be thirsty running around Hell’s Kitchen and fighting criminals all the time,” you explained. “I always sort of wondered if you stashed water bottles around the city or stopped for water breaks somewhere–not where you live, I imagine. Since you're trying to keep your identity hidden.” Your eyes narrowed as you added, “Or do you just let yourself get dehydrated every time you're out? Because that's not good for you, you know.”

The Devil's grin grew wider as he shifted on the couch, facing you even more from his place on the cushions. “Oh?” he asked, curiosity in his tone. “You've thought about me before, have you?”

Eyes dropping down to your lap, you smiled sheepishly as you shrugged. “I mean, I've had some theories circulating about you ever since you kept reappearing in the news,” you admitted awkwardly. “Sort of hard not to.”

“Well now you have to indulge me,” he teased. “Enlighten me on some of these theories of yours.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you continued to avoid his covered stare. “I mean, they're not that interesting…”

“Oh come on,” he tried again. “It's not like we don't have the time. And maybe I can confirm or deny some of them for you. Besides, I admit I’m curious to know what you think of me. Especially being so willing to offer help like you did.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes. He looked far less intimidating beneath your blush pink blanket now. What would it hurt if you told him a few of your ideas about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Maybe he might laugh at them, but would hearing that sound again be all that bad? And it truly would be interesting to learn more about the mysterious vigilante, something you'd probably never have the opportunity to do again.

“Okay,” you agreed with a nod. Straightening up on the couch, you turned to face him more fully. “So I've always thought with the way that you fight that you were trained by some sort of secret ninja assassin organization.”

A hearty chuckle filled your living room at your first theory. The pleasant and resonant noise left you grinning as your stomach fluttered in response. You briefly wondered how often the Devil actually laughed when he was out.

“I cannot confirm nor deny that,” he responded.

The playful smile that kept appearing on his face was beginning to further disarm you. You found yourself enjoying his company, soon becoming used to the way half his face was hidden from sight with that ridiculous fabric. And for some reason your unexplainable attraction to him was only growing.

“Next theory,” he prodded, the smile on his face apparent even in his voice.

“You're not wealthy,” you stated, leaning forward and grabbing your tea from the coffee table.

“Oh, ow,” he joked, playfully recoiling back from you on the couch. “What makes you say that?”

You waved a hand at him across from you as you settled back into the cushions, mug in hand. “Because you wear clothing that is obviously not meant to protect you very well in a fight,” you answered. “I imagine if you had money you'd have something…nicer. Meant for what you do. And,” you continued, pausing long enough to drink down some of your now barely warm tea, aware of him focused on you, “you protect Hell’s Kitchen. Only Hell’s Kitchen. This part of the city isn't exactly filled with the wealthiest people. And with how dedicated you are to everyone here, I assume it's because you probably grew up here yourself. Most likely still reside here, too.”

The Devil hummed appreciatively when you'd quieted, his masked gaze still on you. You swore you could feel it as you drank down more of your tea.

“You're observant,” he mused. “Maybe I need to watch myself around you.”

A surge of pride swelled in your chest; you hadn't expected his praise. Or the way it would make you feel. And apparently, you'd guessed something right about him.

“You're also not married or in a serious relationship,” you blurted before you could help yourself, wondering what more you could learn about him.

“Poor and unlovable?” the Devil asked with a surprised laugh. “That's what you think of me?”

“No,” you disagreed, laughing a little with him as you shook your head. “No, but I mean, I imagine you don't have time for someone else. And I figure most people wouldn’t like their partner going out and doing what you do. Putting yourself in danger.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, shifting on the couch and making himself more comfortable. “A partner would certainly be…a distraction. A liability. One I couldn't really afford to have. So no, you're not wrong, I don't have one.”

You glanced down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with the mug in your hands. Half of you was hoping to hear that he wasn't with anyone–though you refused to admit to yourself why that mattered–but the other half of you had heard the way he'd said that a partner would be a distracting liability and you’d felt a sad pang hit you in the chest. Considering how much he seemed to be enjoying your company when he didn't even know you had you guessing that the Devil was a lonely man deep down.

But that wasn't a theory you felt comfortable sharing.

“Any others?” he asked, breaking through your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you focused back on him across the couch from you. His smile had disappeared, his lips now downturned at the corners just a bit. His posture had changed in your silence, the same as his mood, as if he'd picked up on the subtle change in yours somehow.

Strange.

“I imagine you're the kind of guy who's fridge is always empty,” you answered.

A ghost of a smile reappeared on his face as he huffed out an amused breath. You couldn't fight the smile returning to your own lips at the sight of his again.

“Well hey now,” he countered lightly, “there's usually beer. Sometimes orange juice and eggs.”

You giggled, unable to stop yourself. “Who'd have guessed the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is just your average bachelor?”

“Average?” he repeated in mock offense, his head tilting to the side. “I'm just average now?”

Quirking a brow at him in a challenging manner, your own head cocked to the side. “Maybe tell me more about yourself and I could say otherwise,” you boldly teased back.

“Well obviously,” he began, grinning at you in a way that had your body heating, “I can't exactly do that now can I? Defeats the purpose–

“Of remaining anonymous,” you finished for him. “I've picked up on the importance of that.”

A silence soon settled between the pair of you, one that slowly began to cause your nerves to grow with the way he kept smiling at you. Once again you desperately found yourself wanting to see the rest of his face, curious to know just how handsome he really was under that black mask. Though you settled for studying what you could see, your eyes tracing the soft curves of his pink lips, noticing the way they very minutely twitched under your scrutiny. Eventually your gaze dropped down, following the hard lines of his stubbled jaw. As your eyes trailed further down, they lingered on the part of his neck that wasn't covered by the blankets he’d wrapped around himself for warmth. A heat burned in you as the urge to reach out and just touch him, just to see if he was real, suddenly grew within you. It didn't help that it almost felt like you could feel the weight of his own eyes fixed on you beneath the mask, once again making you very aware of your lack of bra beneath your sweatshirt.

Catching your lip between your teeth, you noticed the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow. Had he been having similar thoughts? Observing you, too?

Inhaling a sharp breath through your nose at the idea, you knew you needed to stop this line of thinking and stop it fast. There was absolutely no way the Devil would be interested in you. Certainly not like that. That was absurd.

“Would you like something to eat?” you asked, trying to calm your pulse. “If your fridge is empty all the time I'm guessing you could use something to eat.”

“I mean, I suppose if you’re–”

He stopped short the exact moment that the lights died, throwing the pair of you into almost complete darkness. You sucked in a breath, turning to look out the window just to your right. It was eerily dark outside, a sight that was rare in the city. Even the buildings across the street had been thrown into darkness. There was nothing but the howling wind and snow outside.

“Guess it was too much to hope the power wouldn’t go out in this mess,” you breathed out.

“I suppose so,” he replied, his tone just as soft.

Reaching blindly forward, you set your almost empty mug onto the coffee table before you. For a moment you reached around on the surface until your fingers brushed against your phone. You picked it up and unlocked the screen, grateful for the bit of light it shed in the dark as you turned on the flashlight function.

“So I can’t offer you a nice cooked meal without power,” you told him, rising to your feet, “but I can get you an apple and a couple of protein bars? If you’d…like?”

“You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it,” he said.

“It’s the least I can do for the man who does so much for the rest of us,” you told him, maneuvering around the couch and navigating your way to the kitchen by the light of your phone. “I’d feel awful leaving you hungry and dehydrated.”

Wrapping one arm around your chest to try to fight the chill that had been steadily creeping into you, you headed towards a cabinet near the sink. Reaching up, you grabbed a glass from out of it before taking a moment to fill it beneath the faucet before setting it along the countertop. Then you plucked an apple out of a fruit bowl on your counter, taking a moment to rinse it off first. The moment you’d turned off the faucet you heard his voice from across the apartment.

“You’re cold.”

For a moment you found it odd how his words hadn’t come out as a question but more of an observation, though you quickly shrugged the strangeness of that aside. You set the apple down on the counter beside the glass of water before sliding a step to your right and opening up another cabinet.

“It’s alright, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to shine the light from your phone into the cabinet to read the labels on the boxes. “I wasn’t the one out in that snowstorm wearing barely anything at all.”

“You say that like I was out there naked.”

His voice had unexpectedly come from just behind you this time and it jolted your heart in your chest instantly. His sudden proximity mixed with his word choice had you startling on the spot. Your hand that had been about to pull the box of protein bars out of the cabinet accidentally bumped it instead, causing the entire box to slip off of the shelf. But before it could tumble to the floor and spill its contents, a black gloved hand darted out beside your face, catching it before it had barely fallen six inches.

You stood there rooted to the spot, his hand just brushing your arm as his held the box of protein bars. The hair on the back of your neck had risen, aware that he was standing barely a foot behind you now. Slowly, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. Your pulse quickened further at how close his face was to yours. He was looking at you, too. Or at least, he was facing you. Eyes dropping down, you couldn’t help but notice that mouth of his again.

“I apologize,” he said, your eyes watching as his lips moved. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sometimes I forget how quiet I can be. I just wanted to give you one of the blankets. No sense in me using both when you’re cold.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to form any other response.

With his attention still on you, he reached up and slid the box back onto the shelf. Then he seemed to take a purposeful step back from you, his lips set in a straight line. You wondered what was going on in his mind right now, because you were sure there had to be something. Had he felt the tension you’d just felt? Or were you just ridiculous and overly hopeful?

And why did it even matter? You were never going to see this man again after tonight anyway.

Blinking a few times, you returned your attention to the shelf. Reaching up, you slid your hand into the box that had nearly taken a nosedive to your kitchen floor and pulled out two protein bars. Keeping your eyes actively focused away from the Devil nearby, you closed the cabinet and slid a step back to your left, grabbing the glass of water in your hand with your phone and the apple in the same hand as the bars. Though before you could turn around, you felt something gently drape over your shoulders. Looking down, you noticed it was the pink blanket he’d been wearing.

“Like I said,” he repeated, “there’s no sense in me using both.”

“Right,” you whispered, pulse pounding in your throat.

Turning on your heel, you stepped past him and made your way back to the living room by the light of your phone. This time you heard the heavy steps of him following after you. You assumed that was intentional.

“So why were you out in this blizzard tonight anyway?” you asked him, making your way around the couch. You hoped having something to talk about would distract you from whatever it was he kept stirring inside of you. “Surely there aren’t a lot of crimes being committed in this weather?”

The Devil let out a light laugh as he accepted the offered glass of water and food from you. One of your brows quirked curiously onto your forehead at his reaction as you sat back down in your original spot on the couch. Though you noticed as he took a large drink from the cup while lowering himself onto the cushions that he’d sat closer to you than before. You watched as he ripped open a protein bar and tore off a large bite next, but he didn't answer until a moment later when he’d swallowed the bite down. Internally you noted he must’ve been hungrier than he let on with the way he was devouring that bar and you’d wished you’d had more food to offer him with the power out.

“You’d be correct,” he told you. “And yet I still stupidly made my way out into this storm tonight in the hopes of catching a lead on something. Instead all I got was my ass frozen and my side bruised.”

You watched as he took another large bite of the protein bar, chewing it almost contemplatively as his head canted to the side. You could still see him in the beam of light from your phone which you were still clutching in your hand. Somehow this lighting made him even more appealing as it cast sharp shadows along his jaw.

“Though I suppose unexpectedly meeting you was a highlight,” he added, causing your cheeks to flush. “But you know, you never did give me your name.”

“Well you never exactly gave me yours,” you immediately quipped back.

Those beautiful lips of his curved upwards yet again as he chewed the last bite of the first protein bar. What you wouldn’t give to see if that smile had reached his eyes.

“Alright, point taken,” he replied.

Tearing your gaze away from him, you focused on your phone. If you kept the flashlight running the battery would die in no time. And who knew how long the power might be out for, you might need it later. You supposed you didn't need it on just for a conversation.

“I’m going to turn the flashlight off on my phone for now, if that's alright?” you told him, fingers darting across the screen to do just that. “Might need the battery on this later.”

“That’s alright,” he replied, sounding as if he was chewing another bite of food. “I don’t need it.”

He’d made the comment just as you’d leaned forward to set your phone back onto the coffee table, but you’d paused as the words processed in your mind. Your eyes narrowed again as your mind raced. Something about the way he’d said that sounded as if it had another meaning to it. But before you could put too much thought into it, he’d changed the topic.

“You’re still cold,” he pointed out. “That blanket alone isn't helping.”

Brows furrowing together as you slowly sat back, you wondered how he could possibly know that. The pair of you were in almost pitch black again with your phone flashlight off. It wasn't like he could see you and you hadn't been shivering, though there were definitely goosebumps dotting your skin. How could he possibly know?

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket you had on tighter around yourself. “It’s bound to get colder here with the power out now.”

“And with how long you had your window open earlier,” he added. “The temperature is going to drop in here faster than it would have if you hadn’t helped me.”

You sighed, frowning in his general direction. “So much for being able to help you warm up,” you muttered. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he assured you.

It felt as if he was shifting on the couch nearby. Your brows knitted further together as you tried to make out what he was doing through the dark. All you could see was a faint mass of black that seemed darker than the rest of the blackness. Then moments later you felt a blanket being draped over your lap.

“No, uh uh,” you said, shaking your head and immediately grabbing the blanket. “There’s two blankets, we can clearly share.”

“You’re freezing,” he countered.

“And you’re not cold?” you shot back.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve already been far kinder than I deserved this evening,” he replied.

You grabbed the blanket in your hands and stubbornly tossed it back in his general direction. An audible sigh sounded through the darkness to your left.

“You know I can just leave, right?” he told you. “Which would leave you with no reason to not use both blankets.”

Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the sound of his voice. “But then you’d be allowing more cold air into my apartment, which would only make the temperature drop faster in here,” you argued back. “Then I'd really be cold.”

He breathed out a laugh and you imagined the smile on his lips at the sound. You smiled triumphantly back at the dark shape of him because you knew you had a good point. Even though really, you could just layer on more clothes.

“Okay,” he relented. “That’s true. So how about…we share?”

The smile on your face quickly disappeared at his suggestion. Mouth dropping open, you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest. It took you a few seconds to regain the ability to respond.

“Share?” you asked.

“Body heat would certainly keep us both warmer,” he answered. “So would sharing two blankets instead of using only one.”

“Oh, uh, well,” you stammered, your mind racing at the thought of your body pressed up against his. “I–I–”

His deep laugh rumbled towards you through the darkness, the sound causing your lips to clamp shut.

“I’m not suggesting anything immoral,” he assured you. “Simply a possible solution to the very real problem of us freezing in here. Unless, of course, you’d prefer me to leave?”

“No!” you exclaimed.

Immediately your eyes widened in horror at how quickly you’d responded to that. And judging by his chuckle, he’d also noticed, too. Your face scrunched up as you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so eager to keep him here in your apartment.

“Well in that case, we could share the blankets and our body heat,” he suggested again. “Because the temperature has definitely dropped a few degrees already and it's only going to continue if the power stays out.”

Nervously your tongue slid out, licking your lips. You were trying hard to control the racing of your heart, positive he could hear it with how hard it was beating now. Of course you weren’t going to pass up a chance to basically cuddle the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for warmth during a snowstorm. You just needed to find a way to not sound so eager to accept his offer first.

“I suppose you…have a point there,” you said slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “That’s–that’s usually what people do in survival situations. Use their body heat to keep warm.”

An amused huff came from him and you realized he’d scooted even closer to you on the couch. Your breath caught in your throat the moment you felt his thigh bump against yours.

“So are we in agreement with sharing both blankets, then?” he asked.

“That–that appears to be the most logical solution to the problem,” you answered. “So yeah, I guess we…share the blankets.”

Despite the lack of light, the Devil seemed to move with ease and fluidity through the darkness, something you were paying close attention to as he gently sidled his way up against the side of you, managing to wrap both blankets around the pair of you. All the while you’d sat pin straight on the couch, aware that he was flush to your side from your shoulder all the way down to your knee. You clasped your hands in your lap, unsure of where else to place them. Truthfully, you had to admit you were already much warmer like this, with his body heat enveloping you beneath both blankets.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone far gentler than it had been all evening. “Because that's not my intention.”

“No,” you answered with a light shake of your head. “You're not.”

He chuckled softly, his body shaking yours slightly with the movement. Your head turned towards him and you wished you could see at least the part of his face that was visible right now.

“Then why are you so tense?” he questioned.

“I'm not tense!” you lied.

He laughed again, this time louder. The movement jostled you somehow further into his side, though your hand flew out and landed flat on his very solid chest as you tried to stop yourself from falling further into him. Your eyes widened in horror yet again, but before you could push yourself away you felt his arm wrapping around your shoulders and allowing you to sink even more into him. Heat was very much creeping up your neck and reaching your cheeks now in embarrassment.

“You're very tense actually,” he teased. “If you're uncomfortable I can move, but we aren't going to be sharing much body heat if you don't actually sit next to me.”

Slowly you removed your hand from his chest, lowering it to your lap. Though with the way you were sitting facing partially towards him now, your knuckles were brushing against his thigh.

“I am not tense,” you grumbled. “And you aren't making me uncomfortable. This is just…awkward. I barely know you and you don't know me.”

“Okay,” he conceded. “How about since you've guessed a few things about me, I think it's only fair you tell me a few things about yourself now.”

“I told you I'm not very interesting,” you reminded him.

“Ah, well,” he replied with a shrug, “I think I'd like to decide that for myself.”

Biting your lip, you turned your burning face and buried it into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see how nervous he'd suddenly made you. It was hard to tell if he was flirting with you or if that was just his vigilante persona–when he wasn't beating people, of course.

With your nose pressed against the fabric of his shirt, you noticed he smelled surprisingly good. There was the hint of his sweat, but there was also a faint clean detergent scent. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, inhaling a deep breath in. Even though he was still a stranger and a vigilante, he seemed kind and safe so far. And he also hadn't thrown you off of himself for getting even closer to him, either. Maybe you should just do what he seemed to be doing: relax and enjoy the unexpected cuddles tonight with an unexpected acquaintance.

“Alright, what do you want to know?” you whispered, eyes still closed as you focused on his scent.

Eyes fluttering open, you felt yourself waking from a deep, comfortable sleep. Though your eyes instantly snapped closed against the bright light that immediately assaulted them. Slowly you blinked them back open, trying to adjust to the surprising sunshine pouring through your living room window. Gradually you began to push yourself upright, realizing you were laying with your head on a couch pillow, both of your blankets snuggly wrapped around you. For a moment your face twisted into a look of confusion as you hesitated, staring down at the two blankets. Why had you been asleep on your couch?

But then flashes of last night came back to you. The masked man falling onto your fire escape. The joking and constant banter between the pair of you. Darkness when the power went out and the feel of his warm, muscular body wrapped around yours as he tried to keep you warm. The scent of clean detergent and his sweat. The feel of his spandex shirt against your fingertips and your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder.

Had that all really happened? Or had you just fallen asleep on your couch and dreamt it?

Your attention shifted towards your coffee table and your sluggish brain processed the sight of your almost empty mug of tea, left abandoned all night, and an empty glass of water. Pushing yourself the rest of the way upright on the couch, your head turned over your shoulder. The lock on your living room window was undone.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really had been in your apartment last night. Which meant the pair of you really had cuddled together for warmth when your power had gone out. And you really did meet him. At least, somewhat.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out in awe. “He was really here.”

But just as the rush of excitement at meeting someone you’d always secretly admired filled you, it quickly vanished. Because you must have fallen asleep on him sometime last night when the pair of you were talking, and then he must’ve slipped out of your apartment before the sun came up, probably when the power had come back on. Which made sense, considering he wouldn’t want to be seen sneaking back to his own apartment in such a conspicuous outfit.

But what was upsetting you was the growing realization that it wasn’t just the first time you’d met him, but it would most likely be the last. And you’d gone and fallen asleep through part of that meeting.

Stupid stupid stupid.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock series #matt murdock #daredevil

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coolprettyleo · 2 months

Text

maybe i will finally learn my lesson? - begin again au ☆

wc: 1.2k

tw: sad, angst, rejection, talks about sex. no actual smut tho. borderline alcoholic tbh

ryan leonard x hughes sister au!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

frankie fell back onto her bed with a soft thud as she tried to catch her breath. she looked at the boy beside her with a hopeful look hoping to gosh he would stay the night and cuddle her. she just needed some form of reassurance.

he never ever wanted to stay over though.

“i gotta go, the guys are going out tonight” he says as he gets out the bed acting like he was talking to some stranger. what frankie didn't realize was that they basically were.

“do you have to leave?” she says in a sad voice kneeling on the bed. she hated how he never wanted to stay and talk. was that so much for a girl to ask for these days?

“frankie, im all spent for right now, but i mean if im feeling it later on, i'll stop by”

is he fucking serious.

it had honestly been a while since frankie had felt that much rage. he really did only think of her as a fuck buddy.

she knew what she was getting herself into, when she agreed on their little agreement, but in the movies it always ends with the guys falling in love with you. right?

“oh my gosh. just leave. like actually” she said getting back in bed and turning her back to him. which left him dumbfounded. why would she be mad he had to leave?

“did i do something?” he asked confused as he finished putting his cloths on.

no answer.

that pissed drew off. she had no reason to be all pissy with him.

“are you mad because im going out with the boys? why would that bother you? were not anything, frankie. im allowed to go out” he said. still starring at her back.

“oh don’t worry. you’ve made that very clear to me drew” she says, her voice wavering due to the fact she just felt so foolish.

“whatever, you’re annoying me. talk to me when ur done being crazy” he said walking out and slamming her door in a fit of rage.

to say frankie took it totally fine would be dishonest. she sobbed in a fetal position all night. while blasting foolish one by taylor swift.

that woman really does have a song for every situation.

she had honestly never felt so alone.

of course she’s not actually alone; she just refuses to go to anyone and burden them with her problems. it’s not like she can call her parents and her brothers due to the fact she can’t lie to them. she knew they were going to ask something like 'how'd practice go?' and whatnot so she's been forwarding their calls since Wednesday when she quit the team.

she could also call her friends. or her ex teammates. did she even have friends?

she was alone.

___

she sits in her room finishing up and assignment when she felt like doing something. usually she would get drunk and go from there, but no. if the last week has taught her anything; it's that she's becoming a new person. and the new person wouldn't black out after every minor convenience.

so in the spur of the moment, she decided she was going to rearrange her room! which is what lead her to where she was right now; outside the freshman hockey house.

while moving her bed from one side to another, she found drews hoodie. so being the mature, new, amazing person she claimed to be... she decided to give him back his hoodie, as a form of ceasing the deal. this is a supposed to be a step forward is it three steps back?

frankie walked up the front steps and as she lifted her fist to knock she halts, when she hears multiple voices coming from inside. not wanting to end her and drews situationship in front of his teammates; to save them both the embarrassment. she quickly trashes her plan and decided to just head home.

but when she heard her name is when she decided against that.

"frankie?" she hears drew ask.

"yes dude. its actually so obvious she wants you after what your saying she did yesterday"

he told them about the argument?

well she couldn't really get mad, if frankie had best friends she would of probably told them too.

"well i dont want her like that and she knows that"

frankie felt her heart crack.

i mean she told herself he didn't like her back, but hearing him say it, is a whole different level of pain for someone who just oh so hoped to joke about their situationship one day over coffee as he watched the morning news while their kids got ready for school.

foolish one, frankie hughes.

"no way your gonna reject her, she's so hot. what the hell is there not to like" one of his stupid teammates said.

"I mean she's the nicest and one of the hottest girls I've ever got with dont get me wrong, but some of the shit she says makes me question if she's being for real or not" drew said not knowing the match he was lighting.

"I think I know what your talking about, is it when she said she thought denver was in texas?" one of his other teammates chimed in.

"bro yes. that actually left me speechless" he says. frankie felt like burning the house down at this point.

"she's lucky she's got hockey" another voice said.

"had'

the hoodie she had in her hands slipped through her fingers. just like the heart drew held. the heart he never wanted to hold.

she backed away from the door, never wanting to slash anyones tires more. she wanted to commit arson. the way they were talking about her, made her want to throw up.

she can take the fact he didn't like her back. thats okay. if he didn't feel the butterflies she felt it wasn't no one fault. but mine.

but the fact he stood their and called her stupid? who the fuck even knows geography like that? she felt so many emotions run through her veins and the one overcoming the rest was the one that held the power over her tears.

"frankie?" oh my god. no. why the hell did I not run home?

she turned her head to see ryan leonard standing there. one of drews friends. someone she had considered to be her friend. but if the rest talk about her like that, him, will, and gabe probably do too.

"you didn't see me here, ryan" she said as she covered her face trying to push past him.

"wha- hey! what's wrong? who did this?" he said grabbing her wrist and seeing her crying eyes. he knew who did it. he just needed to hear a confirmation before he went inside and beat his ass.

"nothing. let me go" she said wiping her tears.

"im not letting you leave here alone hughes, i know how you get when your this sad. I dont want to wake up tomorrow and hear that you got hit by a damn bus for gosh sake"

one thing ryan hated was when she would drink her feelings away because that meant she was going to be reckless. she honestly is reckless.

"well then do you want to come?"

I got tired so im done writing but I wanted to post this! also ! I have no hate towards drew, its all going to add up in the future when I start the other aus I have planned but for now drew is like anyone else and he's learning and growing. so bear with me!

#nhl imagine #frankie x ryan #ryan leonard #gabe perreault #nhl imagines #bc hockey #will smith hockey #hockey imagine #hockey fic #gabe perreault x reader #ryan leonard x reader #ryan leonard imagine #jack hughes #hughes sister #luke hughes #quinn hughes #drew fortescue

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ginnsbaker · 2 months

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit.

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it.

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her.

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too.

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night.

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous.

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day.

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt.

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real.

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force.

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up.

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground.

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope.

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm.

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.”

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought.

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply.

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change.

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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on-leatheredwings · 2 months

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Baby-trapping you say? 👀

baby trapping i say!!!

maybe i should say its specifically stealthing [picks nose]? he doesnt really care to 'trap' you because he literally just believes you're endgame

sneak peek bc god im tired of writing:

tw: weird ideals about fertile (cis) women, intent to stealth, implied/tangential somnophilia (???) and other yandere-typical behavior

18+ only, Damian Wayne is 21

He does want to be with you above anything, and if children were out of the question due to natural causes… sure, he would learn to get over it. His brothers are all adopted and are as legitimate heirs to his father as he. But as it stands, Damian needs an heir someday and he knows your body can provide that.

A part of him, a part that’s been planted in him since his childhood, quietly admits that he simply wants his children to be blood. He was taught that he was the result of two genetically perfect individuals – Bruce Wayne the Batman and Talia al Ghul, Daughter of the Demon’s Head.

So why shouldn’t his child be the genetic amalgamation of you and him? The thought of impregnating you sounds… good. Ideal. Natural, even. Call him a romantic.

Back from class, you decided to read on his living room recliner while he drew in his study. He indeed sketched, as he did everyday, but he also wanted to check if today was the day he thought it was. Damian opens the drawer of his wooden desk, papers neatly filed. He picks up a sleek black folder.

When opened, inside is a calendar for the year, with no notes or writing. The days are simply blank or highlighted in either red or green.

His eyes skirt down to the current day of the calendar, and Damian's pleased to see it is indeed among a week that's painted in green. You've ovulated, and the six days afterward are an ideal window.

You've said in passing that your cycle is pleasantly regular and Damian's past investigations have proved this to be true. He doesn’t ask anymore. He snorts, remembering how last time you looked at him incredulously and asked if he was a Republican, since he was “all up in your womb.”

However, you do keep menstrual products in your bag when he’s predicted it. You also spend quite some time at his place, so he does note when there’s pad wrappers in his bathroom trash bin.

Last year, the day he knew you were the one, his One, he brewed you a tea before bed. Its sedative contents ensured you wouldn't wake. So, Damian pulled off your pants, and collected a sample from you as you slept. Of course, he did so with sterile, sexless precision – Damian wasn’t a pervert or deviant. He sniffs. He’s better than that. Even if his hands did linger.

Test results proved you were healthy and fertile. He remembers being proud. As expected, you were perfect in all things.

#yandere damian wayne #yandere batfam #i dont think ill be tagging shit ngl pls just read the tw's #stay safe </3 #also damian took the sample before yall even started dating #hes a crazy person

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call-sign-jinx · 5 months

Text

Robert "Bob" Floyd X Reader - What's a wallflower?

summary: Coyote sets Y/N and Bob up with some alone time. Bob thinks Y/N hates him but it's the complete opposite and he has no idea.

Warnings: swearing, kissing, fanboy being a matchmaker

a/n: hey girliessss! its been a looooooong time since the last time i posted anything. hope u enjoyyyyyy xx

robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader

Robert Floyd was a very shy man on the outside. I always admired him. The way he just sees and hears everything without being seen himself. Like a wallflower.

All of us are at the Hard Deck, Bradley is trying to pick up a girl at the bar. So was Hangman. Fanboy, Coyote, Payback and Phoenix were all chatting with each other while playing pool, as was I. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bob, eating from a cup of peanuts with his drink at the side of him.

He hadn't yet seen me staring as he was watching Bradley try and pull the girl beside him. Did he think the girl was attractive? If he did, I think he's lost his shot at being with her because Bradley is now locking lips with her. Gross.

"Y/N! You listening? It's your turn to shoot." Fanboy shouted to me waving his hand in front of my face. I blinked, shook my head a little then looked to Fanboy.

"Uh sorry. Lost focus for a second." Fanboy gave me a knowing look. He was the only one, other than Bradley (my cousin), that knows I may or may not have a thing for Bob. Bradley only knows because he guessed and I couldn't stop smiling when he mentioned Bob's name.

I grabbed the pool cue off of Fanboy and looked around the table to see where I could pot a ball. I moved around the table and found my shot. I lined my cue up with the white ball, then looked up to see Bob intently watching me. I shook my head and refocused on the ball. I drew the cue back and hit it with enough force so that the ball potted. The white ball then hit another of our balls into one of the holes. Fanboy patted me on the back and said well done before I sat down.

It was now Fanboy's turn to shoot. But before he did, he shouted to Bob.

"Hey Bob! Please could you get my jacket out of Y/N's car? She'll help you find it, can't remember where I put it." My eyes instantly went to Fanboy. I shook my head slightly with a pleading look. I could not be around Bob alone. Last time I was I completely embarrassed myself. I didn't show my face to him for two weeks.

"U-uh sure!" Bob put down his cup of peanuts next to his drink and got up off the chair and headed towards me. "After you." He muttered with his eyes glued to the floor. I began to walk out and turned to give Fanboy a death stare.

The walk to the car was silent. And awkward. Very awkward.

I unlocked my car and decided to start off in the boot of the car while Bob started in the backseat.

"Not here!" Bob shouted as he then began to look in the front seat of the car. I muttered a quick "okay" before continuing looking in the back.

I was zoned out. Just moving things about, not actually looking for Fanboy's jacket.

"Do you like... hate me or something? Did I do something wrong?" I quickly snapped out of my trance and closed the boot so I could see Bob's face.

"Why would I hate you? You haven't done anything wrong..." I furrowed my brows but my tone was quiet.

"You barely talk to me. There was a period of time where you avoided me, I know that because every time you saw me you did a full 180 and practically ran the other way." With every sentence, Bob took a step towards me until he was only a few inches away from me.

"I... I do not hate you." I chuckle as I make eye contact with him, Bob had a serious look on his face.

"Then why do you always avoid me? There has to be a reason..." Bob really wanted to know... Should I tell him? What if he doesn't feel the same way? Fuck it. I'm gonna tell him.

"Bob... I... Fuck!" I couldn't get my words out. I ran a hand through my hair and breathed out through my nostrils.

"You should know already! You're like a fucking wallflower!" Bob's brows furrowed and head tilted to the right in confusion.

"What's a wallflower?" He seemed very confused. The way he looked right now was adorable though.

"It's someone who sees and hears everything around them but isn't seen." I chuckle as I look into his eyes. The moonlight made his face look absolutely ethereal.

"Oh right... But... You still haven't answered my question." Bob had a small smile on his face.

"I..." I sucked it up, he was probably gonna find out sooner or later. "I have feelings for you Bob..." I couldn't look at him, I didn't want to. He surely doesn't like me back.

When I looked up at Bob, he was looking at me with utter shock on his face. Oh no... Shit... I've probably just fucked everything up.

"It-It's alright if you don't feel the same. I don't actually know why I told you... I could've just come up with an excuse but I just said it out loud." I kept on rambling and rambling.

Bob then grabbed both my arms and shouted my name.

We looked at each other intently until our faces began getting closer to each other. Bob couldn't wait as his hands found place on my cheeks and connected his lips to mine. It was a sweet, soft kiss. Severely contrasting to the other guys I've kissed before.

My hands then traced his abs and up to the back of his neck. I pulled him closer and he backed me up against the boot of my car. My hand went up to tug at his hair to which he let out a groan to.

We then pulled away for some air and stared at each other with goofy smiles on our faces.

"I have wanted to do that for so long..." Bob says breathlessly. I giggle as his smile becomes impossibly goofier.

"Come on, let's go back inside." We both then head back inside the Hard Deck to which Bradly, Coyote, Hangman, Phoenix and Fanboy were waiting and cheered as we got back inside.

"Did you tell them all?" I asked, to which Fanboy gave me a smug grin and hugged me.

"Well done for deciding not to be a pussy anymore Y/N/N." He said in my ear, I hit him on his back in reply which received a laugh from him.

I then go over to Bob who took back his place on his chair next to the wall and rested my head on his shoulder.

I'm glad I decided not to be a pussy.

#top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun imagines #bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert bob floyd

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youremyheaven · 4 months

Text

Mars, Sex & Celibacy

i have wanted to make this post for a long time and this may probably be my last post of 2023. (edit: this is my first post of 2024 lol)

earlier i had briefly mentioned about Mars and its relationship with celibacy and sex.

I had spoken about how Mars makes the native crave carnality and not sensuality. Its also telling how Mars is associated with impulsiveness, fieriness and passion but Mars also makes natives prone to abstinence, restraint and reluctance.

Mars is often interpreted to be explosive with its energy but while that may be the case in other areas, when it comes to sex and relationships, these natives have a tendency to restrain themselves a lot. This could be due to many different reasons. ive noticed a tendency for many natives to self reject or co-opt out of the system instead of playing it at all because they're afraid of being rejected or not being good enough (Mars influence and even disproportionate Venus influence can manifest as deformity/ugliness or make someone feel like they're not good enough) but a strong Mars can manifest differently. Mars is the soldier and is the planet of aggression, therefore they tend to be natural leaders and leaders are ones who set the standard for others, they naturally think of others as being a few rungs below them since they're always on command mode.

Mars is the master however, so Mars influence makes a native exercise immense self control. Its VERY easy for them to shun certain things and abstain entirely. Mars natives are very disciplined and are almost Saturnian (a good/stabilized Saturn influence that is) in terms of their work ethic. Its interesting because even though Saturn is associated with hard work, discipline etc it often manifests as laziness, sluggishness etc because the extremes of anything is a meeting point with its opposite. They are prone to feeling burnt out.

Adriana Lima, Mrigashira Sun, Chitra Moon was a virgin until she was 27 years old and married.

She was a bikini model since she was a teenager but she chose to abstain from sex until she was married. I'm not saying the two are contradictory but its unusual in the sense that its not something that's expected from someone in her position as one of the sexiest women alive.

random observation but Mars rules over eyebrows and gives its natives very thick lush eyebrows with no arch that are a standout feature and thick dark eyebrows are considered a sign of sexual maturity which makes sense consider the over sexualization of Mars natives

Brooke Shields, has Mrigashira Moon & Venus as well as Rohini Sun (Rohini & Mrigashira have similar themes and often manifest as incestual/sexual abuse, stalking, obsession etc in the lives of its natives).

She was pushed into acting and fame by her abusive, controlling mother at a young age and was very sexualized by the public and media even as a child. She has talked about how obsessed her mother was with her and how she remained a virgin until she was 22years old despite being a hugely renowned sex symbol for most of her life.

Drew Barrymore, Mrigashira Rising

Drew grew up with a mother who was obsessive & controlling with her and almost grew up too fast before turning to a playful and childlike personality as an adult.

She also spoke about how she's been celibate since her 2016 divorce. She also underwent a breast reduction in her 20s because she did not like being sexualized by men.

youtube

This interview where Drew & Brooke talk about their mothers is so Mrigashira coded, its especially telling when Brooke says that despite everything they've been through neither of them emerged from it "jaded" or "angry".

I've noticed this with a lot of Mrigashira natives, they have very playful, happy go lucky personalities despite all the abuse and trauma they've endured.

There is an unhappy pattern in the lives of many Mrigashira natives of having been subject to incestual abuse or sexual abuse as children.

Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen have Mrigashira Sun and although there is no actual evidence of it, there are many speculations as to whether they were subject to abuse as children and their subsequent withdrawal from public life as adults only added fuel to the rumours.

Many child stars who gain notoriety or are sexualized from a very young age tend to have Mrigashira placements or other Mars ruled naks in their big 3.

Judy Garland, Mrigashira Sun & Mercury

It is very well known how she was exploited by her mother who gave her "performer pills" to keep her awake and then to help her sleep, all before she turned 10 years old.

Shirley Temple, the OG child star had Mrigashira Moon, she was severely abused, exploited and overworked since childhood.

Natalie Portman has Mrigashira Sun and she's talked about how being sexualized as a child made her relationship with her sexuality very fraught.

“Being sexualised as a child, I think, took away from my own sexuality because it made me afraid and it made me like the way I could be safe was to be like, ‘I’m conservative,’ and ‘I’m serious and you should respect me,’ and ‘I’m smart,’ and ‘Don’t look at me that way.'”- Natalie Portman

Many famous women and men who have either very few sexual partners or lose their virginities later in life or wait until marriage often have Mars ruled nakshatras.

Tina Fey lost her virginity at the age of 24 to the man who would become her husband. She has Chitra Moon

Jessica Alba, Dhanishta Moon said this:

"I didn't really [seriously] go out with any guys until I was 18 and met my ex-fiancé, Michael Weatherly,"

"It just didn't work out. I was so young, 18, when I started dating him. I was a virgin. I knew I wanted to be in love with the first person I slept with, because for almost everyone I knew, the first experience made them feel like shit," she continued. "So I wanted to be really careful that he was going to be in love with me and wasn't just going to leave me."

Celine Dion, Ketu in Chitra lost her virginity to her husband Rene Angelil.

Courteney Cox, Mrigashira Sun, lost her virginity at the age of 21

Another nakshatra(s) that I've often noticed coming up in the charts of many people who are sexually conservative or have traditional values is Punarvasu and Pushya.

Tamera Mowry waited until she was 29 to have sex and then felt guilty about it and was celibate until she got married. She has Punarvasu Sun (amatyakaraka) and Jupiter in Punarvasu (atmakaraka) along with Moon & Mercury in Pushya

Miranda Kerr, Punarvasu Moon & Pushya Rising dated her now husband for 3 years before marrying him and they waited until they were married to have sex.

"Not until after we get married," she said "He is very traditional. We can't … I mean we're just … waiting."

Jennifer Lawrence, Mrigashira Moon has said this:

"I always talk like I want d---, but the truth is when I look back at my sexual past it was always with boyfriends," the actress told The Sun. "I am mostly also a germaphobe. I have made it this far without an STI. D--- is dangerous. If I was at the point where I could get an STI, doctors have already been involved. That is how much of a germaphobe I am."

She has admitted to never having had casual sex and has often been subject to stalking, and following the leak of her private pictures, she's talked about how violated she feels about the whole experience. All of these are themes that manifest in the lives of many Mrigashira natives.

Jessica Simpson, Punarvasu Sun & Mercury was a virgin until she married her husband Nick Lachey when she was 21

Justin Bieber, Chitra Moon, Dhanishta Mercury & Mars went through a period of celibacy and waited until marriage to have sex with Hailey.

“[God] doesn’t ask us not to have sex for him because he wants rules and stuff. He’s like, I’m trying to protect you from hurt and pain. I think sex can cause a lot of pain. Sometimes people have sex because they don’t feel good enough. Because they lack self-worth. Women do that, and guys do that. I wanted to rededicate myself to God in that way because I really felt it was better for the condition of my soul. And I believe that God blessed me with Hailey as a result,”

Kevin Jonas, Mercury & Mars in Chitra was a virgin until he married his wife when he was 20.

Lady Gaga, Mrigashira Rising once said:

"I don’t really have sex. I’m quite celibate now," she went on, "I don’t really get time to meet anyone. don’t trust anybody. And I don’t know if I ever will. But it’s okay. It’s the trade-off."

While revealing that she was 'perpetually lonely' when it comes to relationships, Gaga also understood that it's her 'condition as an artist'.

"I also think I’m afraid of depleting my energy. I have this weird thing that if I sleep with someone they’re going to take my creativity from me through my vagina."

the story of Rapunzel is intricately connected to Mrigashira.

we're familiar with how Rapunzel is held captive in a tower with an evil witch pretending to be her mother gaslighting her into thinking the outside world isn't safe enough for her to navigate, the myth behind Mrigashira nakshatra is of how Brahma tries to have an incestuous relationship with his favourite daughter Rohini who tries to escape this by leaving heaven behind and coming down to earth and taking the form of a deer. This deer is Mrigashira.

due to this background, Mrigashira natives often spend their lives running from things or feeling like they're being chased. Being gaslit is also (unfortunately) a big theme because they're running away from their home where they were being abused and its looked down upon as them misbehaving or causing trouble because its considered taboo to run away from your home. even though they're the victim they're constantly gaslit into thinking otherwise. this is the reason why so many Mrigashira natives stay in abusive relationships/homes for far too long.

in Tangled, Rapunzel is voiced by Mandy Moore who is Mrigashira Rising

in the movie A Beautiful Mind, Jennifer Connelly, Mrigashira Moon plays the wife of an economist with schizophrenia. She initially believes that his hallucinations are real and only learns of his condition much later and even though her and her baby's safety is under threat she still chooses to stay by his side and support him.

Jim Carrey, Mrigashira Moon plays the titular Truman in the movie The Truman Show where a man unbeknownst to him is a character on a show that is telecast to the world.

Being gaslit and struggling to fully understand the nature of reality is a common theme in the lives of many Mrigashira natives.

Returning to the theme of how sexualized Martian women tend to be, here are several examples:

They tend to be so sexualized by others that they feel cut off from their sexuality themselves, i.e, it does not feel safe to indulge in pleasure.

Jennifer Lawrence, Mrigashira Moon

"Anybody can go look at my naked body without my consent, any time of the day,” she says. “Somebody in France just published them. My trauma will exist forever.” She shakes it off with a wincing grin. “Have you ever wanted to be an actress?”

Pamela Anderson, Mrigashira Rising

Her sextape was stolen from her house and circulated widely and later on a biopic about her and Tommy was made which portrayed her in the worst possible light. She has been deprived of autonomy over her own narrative.

Another thing to keep in mind is how Mrigashira is the only Deva gana nak among the Mars ruled nak, both Chitra & Dhanishta are Rakshasa gana and as such they feel little shame or guilt in owning and embracing all aspects of their sexuality.

Here's an example of Amber Rose, Chitra Sun who was similarly sexualized and slut shamed by the media and she had a vastly different response that some of the above mentioned women who sort of went incognito and dialled down on things:

"I just got to a point where people were saying: “She’s sex, she’s a slut, she’s a ho, she’s this, she’s that…” and I thought, okay, well I’m going to piss you off even more and come out with a sex toy line. There you go people, you can have that. You get to a point where you literally can’t give a shit and live your best life."

Kim Cattrall, Dhanishta moon

“It was so much fun to leave behind this kind of sexual icon thing. I was so ready to shed it. I’ve been sexualised since a very early part of my career. I understand it, I’ve made it work for me, but I’ve always felt that I’m a character actress stuck inside a leading lady’s body. Now, I feel like I am doing my best work.”

Look at how different their responses are in comparison to many Mrigashira natives.

Many Martian women attain fame and notoriety for their bodies and sex appeal

Kate Upton, Sun & Venus in Mrigashira

Marilyn Monroe was Dhanishta Moon

Kat Dennings, Mrigashira Sun

Dita Von Teese, Mrigashira Moon

Claudia Schiffer, Mrigashira Moon

Candace Swanepoel, Chitra Sun

Ashley Graham, Dhanishta Moon

Denise Richards, Dhanishta Sun

Ariel Winter, Dhanishta Moon

Carrie Fisher, Chitra Sun

Jennifer Garner, Mrigashira Moon

In 2013, Jennifer gave a testimony to the California legislature about her experience and urged them to pass a bill that would grant children some protections from paparazzi. That bill ultimately passed. She has talked extensively about being stalked and how she lives with a lot of anxiety because of it.

Sandra Bullock, Dhanishta Moon , with Mrigashira stellium (inc Rising) experienced a horrifying home invasion in 2014 when a stalker broke into her house. He killed himself in 2018. She's had multiple stalkers and has chosen to live a very lowkey life to protect the privacy and safety of herself and her family.

Nadya Suleman better known as Octomum is a Dhanishta Rising and became notorious for her brief tryst with porn stardom and posing nude along with working as a stripper after initially becoming infamous for having octuplets.

Janis Joplin, Dhanishta Rising grew up in a conservative household and ran away to San Francisco as an adult where she entered a relationship with a man who soon left her. As he was walking away from her, Janis literally grabbed his leg and was dragged along the way. At that very moment, she decided she would never again beg for love.

“I’d’ve fucked anything, taken anything…I did. I’d take it, suck it, lick it, smoke it, shoot it, drop it, fall in love with it….”

"My music isn’t supposed to make you wanna riot! My music is supposed to make you wanna fuck!”

I mention these two as examples for how Dhanishta natives are examples of the type of Martian women who don't feel guilty about their desires or urges and refuse to be shamed for it; they may be hypersexual or chaste but they do not let others tell them what to do.

......................

This post is a bit all over the place but I hope you'll excuse that, I wanted to talk about the relationship with sex, sexuality (among other things) that Mars natives have, I feel like went into several different tangents but :/

I hope this was informative and interesting.

Happy New Year!! <333

#Youtube #vedic astrology #astro observations #astro notes #astro community #astrology #astrology observations #astrology notes #astroblr #vedic astro notes #vedic astro #vedic astro observations

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politemenacephd · 4 months

Text

Arachnophilia: (Part Nine)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

You're a new recruit to the spider society, and you've just been sent on your first mission on one condition: Do not contact Miguel's variant in this universe. When your mission goes wrong you break that rule very quickly, desperate for help, only to find that Miguel's variant here is not what you expected. He's stoic but kind, awkward but sincere, and he's also an enormous human-spider hybrid: a drider, both human and arachnid. You decide to continue seeing Miguel in secret, with the rest of the society unaware. You really want to stay friends after all. That is, until Miguel suddenly goes into a rut. Now you're his mate, trapped in a dizzying heat that only he can fix, trying to hide your relationship from your suspicious superiors. What could go wrong? Word count: 3080 Notes: some fluffy time now hehe

You woke the next morning to the sound of rain, unaware of what had transpired while you slept.

The tail end of a storm had blown in over night before dying out by dawn, leaving the forest in a deep and melancholic mist as droplets continued to patter against the leaves. The smell of wet pine drifted in and tickled your nose.

You could tell it was cold outside, based on the chill against your bare face, but your body was so incredibly warm. Something heavy was keeping you in place, keeping you grounded while protecting you from the elements outside.

Slowly you opened your eyes.

‘Mm... Mig?’

‘Mhm?’

You rolled your head back and blinked the sleep aside.

Mig had clambered on top of you, like a bird sitting on its eggs, and you were fully compressed beneath the warm fluff of his abdomen. No wonder you were so warm.

‘Mig?’

You repeated his name in the same sleepy tone, but he seemed too pre-occupied to notice. His human torso was upright, arms folded, facing the door with unblinking eyes. You wondered how long he’d been up like that.

‘What’r you doin’?’ you asked.

Your question finally drew his attention back to you as he glanced down with raised brows.

‘Hm? What do you mean, arañita?’

‘You’re- on me.’

‘Yes. I am’ he affirmed, blunt as ever. ‘You were shivering, in your sleep. At least- I think you were. I wanted to be sure you were okay. Do you… want me to move?’

‘Uh- no, no you’re fine. It’s very warm.’

He gave a curt nod and returned to watching the door as rain trickled from its edges, just barely illuminated by the misty light beyond.

‘Good. I’m glad you’re comfortable.’

For a while you lazily indulged in his warmth. You had no idea before this that spiders were so soft. You lounged against the feathery mattress in a timeless void, lost to the outside world, safe in this little bubble you’d created with him.

But as your body slowly woke up, it was inevitable that you started thinking again. You opened your eyes and watched the rain as it dripped like pearls from the top of the entrance.

It’d been a while since you were just alone with Mig like this, at least since the first time you’d had sex. The heat suppressed any chance you had of making normal conversation, and the last time you’d just spoken was when you’d gone to leave. You were used to these moments of quiet contemplation when you were friends, but, now?

You were curious, more than anything. Would you talk the same? Would it be easier, harder? You decided you ought to just find out.

‘Did you sleep okay?’ you asked, finally broaching conversation. Mig seemed slightly surprised when you spoke, as you felt his abdomen jolt before settling again.

‘Ah- yes. I did. Did, you?’

‘Mhm. Sorry I just- fell asleep right after you finished, I was just so tired.’

‘There’s no need to apologize, arañita. I’m sorry I ravaged you like that.’

‘Oh, I mean… that wasn’t a problem for me.’

He snorted; you couldn’t tell if that was meant to be a laugh or not. ‘Did you manage to organise your affairs while away?’ he asked, shifting the conversation. You nodded.

‘Mhm! Mhm, everything should be fine. I saw Jess, I told her I was sick, quote unquote, and would let her know when I was better, so, that’ll buy us some time, at least until the heats over. Obviously Miguel was, weird about it, but… I mean he didn’t say anything so I’m sure it’s still fine. It’s fine.’

Mig’s lips tilted downward with his brows, forming a crease in his forehead.

He didn’t want to leave you in the dark about last night, and yet when he thought about telling you fully what had occurred, he choked. Lying did not come naturally to him. He knew if he decided to explain part of last night, he would explain it all, including Miguel’s veiled reminders and accusations.

He knew what Miguel knew. He knew, but he couldn’t even acknowledge it with himself, let alone with you. He decided to pick his words carefully.

‘Yes. He- is likely to remain troublesome, but I promise I won’t let him bother you.’

‘I wasn’t gonna let him bother me’ you huffed. ‘You know, hey- I meant to tell you yesterday, they mentioned him when I was in the medical bay. Or at least the nurse did, she really shouldn’t have, but- they thought I’d slept with him, because the signs on my body from you were the same as some other guy they’d had in before. I didn’t want to believe you, but- I mean it’s pretty clear you were right, about his- needs.’

Mig froze as you continued rambling on about what the nurse had said. He always strove to be a good listener when you spoke, but right now all he could hear was the ringing in his ears.

That hypocritical, lying snake, he thought. That self-righteous coward. He was forced to cough to cover his involuntary hiss of rage.

Of course, every variant but him had to be locked away for their own safety. Of course, every variant but him had to maintain abstinence to avoid spreading their malformation. Everyone but him. They were all filthy, misbegotten monsters, not fit to love, but him? Well, he could have his dalliances.

Mig snorted hard to dispel his anger, wanting to avoid showing such a thing to you again.

He knew that Miguel’s threat last night had been genuine. He had no idea what he’d do to get his way, whether today or tomorrow or in a weeks’ time. All he knew is that he would defend you when the time came, and for now, he just wanted to enjoy your company.

He wanted to enjoy being wanted for just a little while longer. If the noble, venerable Miguel could do it, why couldn’t he? In the midst of his bitterness, Mig decided to turn it around. He decided to make you an offer.

‘Yes, I would- ideally like to keep you away from him. So you don’t have to worry about being, ah- bothered’ Mig said at last.

You shot him a quick and grateful smile. ‘I mean, I’d appreciate that, but I’m happy to be here regardless. I’m not just here to hide.’

Miguel grunted his approval as birdsong began to radiate in from outside. He breathed in deep, his chest heaving, as he worked up the courage to speak his mind.

‘I was thinking, arañita. I could, maybe, make the nest more… habitable. For you.’

You blinked. ‘I- wait, are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘But- won’t I only be here full time until the heat stops? I’m assuming after that—’

Midway through speaking you noticed his eyes widening. He was sinking back into that same sadness he’d expressed when you first left, that deep rooted fear of abandonment. You quickly shook your head, pre-empting his distress.

‘Not- I mean that when the heat’s over, I won’t be here full time, not that I won’t see you anymore’ you clarified. His face settled, slowly drifting back to neutrality, but you could see the little hints of concern in his eyes. He was scanning your face all over again, as if searching for your soul.

‘I’ll have to do some spider society duties, but I still want to come see you’ you explained in a clearer tone. ‘I still want to hang out, maybe- stay over, if- only if that’s okay, I also don’t want to take up all your time—’

‘I have nothing but wasted time when you’re not here, mi tesoro. You would not be taking up anything’ Mig softly interrupted.

‘What- wait, what? What do you mean?’

He gave a half-hearted shrug, his eyes now fixed on the distant wall. He seemed to be looking at nothing. ‘I mean exactly that. What did I do before? I survived. That’s all. I am, separated from other people, I have little technology to connect to the outside world. I hunt, I eat, maybe I watch the stars. I live to see another day, but- since I changed, that’s all. You are the only, thing I’ve had, that was more than surviving. Comfort, companionship, joy, and… pleasure.’

You felt a stab of guilt when faced with that morbid picture. The idea of Mig sitting in the woods, pondering his existence, eating and sleeping just to get through each day. You hadn’t even comprehended before just what his life must have been like, with no one to talk to and no one to comfort him.

‘I apologize’ he murmured, a sad little smile breaking the calm of his expression, ‘I didn’t want to put pressure on you, but, that meant never explaining fully how grateful I am that you appeared in my little universe. I’ve been so- jealous, and scared, of losing that little comfort, but I should be glad I had you at all.’

Your mind drifted to your own loneliness back at the HQ. What was worse, you wondered, being deprived of people entirely or being surrounded by people who don’t see you? At least you’d had something. At least you’d been negligible, rather than abominable.

In that moment, all pretence about his monsterhood died. You were both monsters in that moment, and you were both people too. You were people only to each other.

‘Oh Mig. You... Look, I—I will always come back to you. I’ll do my stupid duties and then I’ll come back, and I’ll keep bringing you stuff like I used to! But even then, I just… I don’t want to make you change things to fit me in. This is your home. I don’t want to be a brat, I can get by just fine. I’ve done fine so far.’

Miguel began shaking his head before you’d even finished speaking. ‘No. You complained about the state of my home after just a day or so here, remember? You said you needed more. I will supply more.’

Immediately you balked. When faced with how you’d acted towards him, when worded so bluntly, it was certainly humbling. ‘God- I’m, so sorry about that, I was just—I was tired and—’

‘Don’t apologize. You were right. This place is fit for me, but, not for a person like you. So, I will fix it.’

You shuffled awkwardly as you tried to think. ‘Well then… Well, look, then let me work out what I need. I can bring it here myself.’

Again, Mig shook his head. ‘You’re my mate. It’s my job to provide for you.’

‘No! No, don’t be silly, I don’t need—’

You froze as Mig’s claws came down on your lips, gently smooshing them shut. His eyes on you were kind. ‘I want to help’ he murmured. ‘This is what I want, mi tesoro.’

You squirmed a little as you pushed his claws aside. ‘But- but I can at least help too, right?’ you asked.

Mig reached out to touch your cheek, his eyes flitting across your face. He seemed confused. ‘You don’t need to help, arañita. This is for me. Just- relax, let me do what you need.’

‘You— mmm.’ You bit your tongue on what you wanted desperately to blurt out: that he was so nice, too nice, in a way you weren’t used to. That you felt guilty for making him work for your sake when you’d already been rude, or at least you felt like you’d been rude, to this poor creature who had suffered enough.

In your ensuing silence Miguel seemed to finally sense that something was off. He was too inexperienced to know what, but he could just tell you were hiding your thoughts. He knew something about receiving his help made you uncomfortable, for whatever reason, and he knew that that would not do. He desperately wanted to be of use.

With a soft sigh he shifted his weight, using his forelegs to grip your body and pull it up towards him. He nestled his legs in, fully folding them beneath his body, and he held you bridal style against his bare chest.

‘Do you know how spider mating works, usually? It’s- quite interesting’ he said.

You listened, curious as to where this was going, as Miguel gazed off into the distance and recited his little facts.

‘The females are almost always twice the size as the males, and twice as deadly. They demand that males shower them in affection to prove their worth. They expect dances, songs played on silk strings, back rubs and oral sex and copulation which takes as little time as possible. They expect males to fight to the death for their hand. They expect- gifts. And, if they do not receive what they want, they will eat the male for their own purposes. In fact, even if they do receive what they want, sometimes they will just eat him regardless.’

You blanched at the morbid nature of his story, a stark contrast to his soft little smile.

‘I’d say, by spider standards, you ask for too little’ he whispered.

With your lopsided smile, you tried to awkwardly shift back into teasing him. ‘Ah- what, are you saying I can eat you?’

‘If you wanted to.’

‘I- Mig, no! No, I’m kidding! Don’t say that!’

‘Why not?’

You gently slapped your hands against his chest, as if patting him would bring him back to reality. ‘No! No, don’t- say you’d be okay with being eaten!’

‘I would be, though, if it was you.’

‘NO! I won’t eat you!’

‘Well then there is no issue.’

You huffed at his response, but ultimately your reign of playful patting ended. You wriggled for him to put you down and immediately snuggled back against the warmth of his fluff, where his soft little forearms came around to embrace you.

‘I just realized, is that why you like how small I am?’ you asked. ‘Because your brain is like, the smaller they are the less likely they are to eat me?’

Miguel gave you a ghost of a smile. He looked almost shy beneath that stoic, stony expression. ‘A little bit, yes.’

‘But you’d still let me eat you?’

‘I still instinctively pleasure you with my mouth because it’s a survival tactic. I’m trying to keep you calm. So- I would not likely let you, I still have an ingrained need to survive, but I would not begrudge you my body.’

You recoiled a little in surprise. ‘You- wait, the mouth stuff is an instinctual thing?’

‘Y…Yes, I’m afraid so.’

Without thinking you dramatically sighed, your eyes turning to the side. ‘Wh- Aw! I thought that was just- you know, you being romantic’ you bemoaned.

‘It can be both.’

You tilted your head back and caught his eye, his glinting red light gently reflecting on your cheek. His eyes creased with affection as he scanned your face.

‘I mean- it is both.’

You shook your head, exasperated, before lowering your gaze. ‘My god, maybe I will eat you.’

A strange, new sound filled the air, almost like choking. You glanced up in a mild panic only to realize it was Miguel. He appeared to be chuckling. It was a low, guttural noise, deep and rugged, like someone trying to cough while laughing. It seemed to come unnaturally to him.

‘Ahum- sorry, that- I haven’t done that in a long time’ he grunted when the sounds came to an end.

Your own smile widened. God, he was so cute. ‘Hey, it’s fine! I like it. I like… when you’re, happy.’

Almost immediately after saying it you cringed internally, your hands flying to your face. ‘Oh my god- I’m sorry, that’s such a stupid statement. Nebulous statement. Who doesn’t like people being happy, right? Oh my god…’

For the second time Miguel had to bite back his strange and gruff laugh. He didn’t want to seem mocking, but lord, your embarrassment was so endearing. He bit his tongue to hide his joy and instead bent down to your height.

‘I like when you’re happy’ Mig said, gently repeating it back. When you peered at him through your fingers he managed another small smile. ‘Which is why, I would like to adjust this nest, for you. Please.’

You heaved a sigh. You couldn’t say no to that face.

‘Okay’ you said at last, waving your hands as if dismissing yourself of the issue. ‘Okay! Okay. But I will help a little.’

‘Very well. But I will determine what counts as little.’

‘Of course you will’ you scoffed affectionately.

As silence fell you noticed that the rain outside had started to pick up once more. The mist had turned everything beyond the border of the nest into a milky white void, and you could now hear the soft patter of the drops on the nests roof.

You breathed in the peace and allowed it to embolden you once more. In the isolation of the woods, flushed from head to toe in this honeymoon glow, you wanted just one more thing.

‘We um… there’s one more thing, I wanted to clarify’ you said, your head now nestled into the fur just below his pelvis. He didn’t glance down but he did grunt to signal that he’d heard you.

‘We- well. We established, by technicality, we’re a… mated pair.’

‘Yes.’

‘And we are… friends.’

You felt his fur bristling against your neck. ‘Yes. Also true’ he grunted.

‘We, um- we kinda rushed into, something, in a really weird way. Right? Not that it’s a bad thing, but- I said before I left, I don’t… know what this is yet.’

Mig bristled a little harder, his hair raising to the point that it tickled your cheek.

‘Yes… you, did say that.’

‘Well… When I went back to my home, and to the HQ, I was just so…So....’ You paused to swallow. ‘I missed you, Mig. I really, really missed you. Even for that short time, and- I realized, there is something very… special? About you, or- I’m, drawn to you, I guess. Even when I was in heat, and surrounded by hundreds of people, all I thought of was you.’

Miguel didn’t speak. He just tilted his head, urging you to continue. You swallowed for a second time only to find your throat was dry.

‘I’m, just- I was thinking, well- Could we, or- should we, maybe, just- clarify? Like, you know what I mean, right? Ah- we could just, define what is going on, and—’

Your stammering was brought to an abrupt halt when Miguel leaned down and pulled you close. His human torso bent and kept you close to his chest, his head in your neck, while his spider legs drew you in. You could feel his abdomen lightly vibrating against you as he let out a low hum.

‘Wh- ah, Mig? What—’

‘It’s a spider thing’ he whispered, his breath hot on your ear.

‘It- it is?’

You could feel his legs starting to shift, gently tapping and pulling at the nest floor. He was pinging the silk strings until they rang, filling the air with sweet little chiming sounds. It created a profound sense of comfort in you.

‘It means I like you, arañita’ he whispered, his voice barely a breath. ‘Here is my- confession, I suppose. I like you, arañita. I like you a lot.’

Your heart nearly tripled over in your chest. In a moment of impulse, you turned. You turned your body into his, searching for his face, and with both hands you grabbed his cheeks and pressed your lips to his.

It was a soft kiss. It wasn’t the manic, messy tongue play brought on by the heat, nor the explorative kissing Mig did to keep you distracted while mounting. It was barely a peck on his bottom lip, one you held onto for a second or so before letting him go.

When you pulled back your heart was beating like a bird in a cage. You found Mig completely frozen.

‘Are- is, is the heat coming back?’ he mumbled dizzily. You shook your head.

‘No. Not yet. No heat.’

He tried to sniff subtly but it was obvious what he was doing. When he realized you’d told the truth, he seemed to melt.

‘Then…. Wh—’

‘It’s just a human thing. It just means, I like you too.’

Mig’s eyes were so wide, so bright, almost dreamy in a way.

‘I don’t know if this will work out’ you said gently. ‘It’s- early, and this all happened very fast. And I know I can’t just, hide away here for forever. But, for now, while I have this time here with you, I want to try. I really, really want to try.’

Mig gave a slow nod in response.

‘I want to be, officially, uh… partners, I- I guess, would be the right term’ you said slowly.

Mig didn’t respond how you’d expect someone to respond when given such an offer. He didn’t smile, or laugh, or cheer or sigh. Instead, his wide eyes dilated until they looked like a cats, wide and full like a bloody moon, misty and soft. His body trembled a little.

‘Okay’ he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘Okay. Yes. I’d like that. I’d like- to agree to that, officially, mi tesoro.’

You beamed until your cheeks hurt, and when Mig moved in you let him kiss you back. You were expecting just another peck, but Mig had other ideas. He seemed insatiable, eagerly pressing kiss after kiss after kiss against your lips and cheeks and jaw. Soon he was bending you back into the mattress, your spine perfectly arched as the weight of his body crushed the air from your lungs.

His lips parted and his tongue began brushing yours. It was curious, wet, tender. It was like holding hands. His needy whimpers vibrating on your lips. When you did eventually part you were panting.

‘A-Are you rutting?’ you asked with a slight laugh, struggling to speak between kisses. Mig grunted.

‘No’ he mumbled before kissing you again, ‘no, no. No rut. Just… Just you. Just you.’

You melted into his arms as his body compressed you into the mattress, his lips refusing to leave yours. His abdomen did one more little wriggle of joy as his hands began drifting down your body.

You squeaked as he squished at your waist, your belly and your hips and thighs, tenderly imprinting his fingers into every part.

It seems it didn’t matter if he was rutting or not right now. He would have you regardless.

As he held you down Mig forgot all about the world outside. He forgot about Miguel. He forgot about the society. He forgot everything but the taste of your mouth, the softness of your skin and the warmth of your touch. Here the world was kind for one sweet, simple moment.

‘Just you. Just… you.’ Link to next part!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #drider #miguel x reader #smut #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara fanfiction #drider miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel smut #monster human relationship #so much fluff #miguel fluff

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bingwriterxo · 11 months

Text

a love more than love

pairing: wednesday addams x reader

summary: in which wednesday breaks her normal routine to visit you

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 750+

author's note: i posted this on wattpad a while ago, but i really enjoy it, so i wanted to bring it over to this platform, too!

"Isn't this your designated writing time?" Enid asked her roommate, watching with curiosity as the raven-haired girl dug through her wardrobe, looking for a specific piece of clothing.

Wednesday sighed, drew away from the piece of furniture, and turned towards the blonde. "Yes, Enid, but more important things have arisen."

"Such as...?" The blonde knew it was a dangerous game to pester the other girl, but she wasn't used to Wednesday going against her calculated schedule. It intrigued her more than it should have, and she wanted answers.

"If you must know, I'm going to visit Y/N," Wednesday admitted. "It's been one year."

Enid's gaze flitted to the floor for a moment before returning to her roommate. "Oh."

A heavy silence blanketed the two girls, and the Addams turned back around to continue her search, though it only lasted for a moment or two before she faced the werewolf again.

"Have you seen my sweatshirt? The one with the zipper?" she asked, tapping her foot on the floor as she impatiently awaited a response.

"Thing dragged it under the bed the other day," Enid said, pointing towards Wednesday's mattress. With a curt nod as a thank you, the raven-haired girl walked over to her bed before dropping to her knees and reaching beneath it, her fingers finding the offending item. She pulled it out, dusted it off, and then put it on over her shirt. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Wednesday ignored her question. "I'll be back before night fall."

* * *

The cemetery was completely empty of anything living when Wednesday arrived. She wandered through the area in search of your gravesite as she hadn't returned since the burial, but it wasn't hard to find: your tombstone--a stark white granite and surrounded by vibrant flowers, all left by friends that had visited that day--stood out amongst the others.

She sat in front of the gravestone, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them, her arms wrapping around her legs. For a moment, she merely stared at the epitaph that had been engraved in the stone:

We loved with a love that was more than love.

It was a quote from your favorite Edgar Allan Poe poem, "Annabel Lee," and was a sentence that Wednesday had heard fall from your lips numerous times. It slipped off of your tongue in such an elegant way that it had seemed almost as natural to you as breathing.

"We loved with a love that was more than love," Wednesday recited in a murmur. She reached a hand out, traced the words with her forefinger, tried to ignore the feelings that were stirring within her. "I loved you with a love that was more than love."

Softly, she pressed her palm flat against the stone as though you would be able to reach out and touch your hand to hers, run your pinky along the edge of her own before looping the two together, bring her hand to your lips and press a light kiss to the tips of her knuckles. But you were no longer able to do any of these things, and she would never experience your fingers interlocked with her own again, and that thought alone caused a tear to slip from her eye and roll down her cheek.

"You weren't supposed to die." She pretended not to notice the crack of her voice, the guilt that was weighing in her chest, the sadness that invaded her heart. "It was supposed to be me."

It was Thornhill that caused your death: a single bullet had exited the chamber of her gun, and it had found its home in your stomach rather than Wednesday's. Minutes later, the raven-haired girl was left cradling your lifeless body with a horrible emptiness settling inside her.

"You loved everyone with a love that was more than love," she whispered, frowning. "It wasn't meant to end so soon." A sob threatened to erupt from her throat, but she swallowed it down. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, cara mia."

With a shaky hand, she pressed her fingers to her lips before touching them against the stone, a gesture that the two of you had made your own. When you first began dating, on days when Wednesday couldn't stand much physical affection--which was quite frequent--you would kiss her by doing that exact motion, and she often found herself returning it. It quickly turned into a normal act of appreciation, and the two of you found yourselves doing it on a daily basis.

"I will always love you with a love that is more than love."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday series #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix

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sturn-wrld · 4 months

Text

🪼sunsets at the beach

pairing: matt x reader

summary: where matt takes reader to the beach

genre: SMUT!!! if that makes you uncomfortable dni!

warnings: unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), nicknames (babe, baby)

a/n: day 11 of smutmas. parts of this fix are almost poetical. this one is a little longer than usual i would like to think. idrk.

masterlist

---------------------------------------------------------

hey baby do you want to come to the beach with me?

yeah of course baby :)

i'll be there in 15 love you

love you

as you rushed around for 15 minutes to get ready to go to the beach with your boyfriend matt, you were wondering why he would suddenly want to go to the beach at 5 in the afternoon in the middle of winter. i mean you had an idea but kinda rushed it away because he could just come to your house for that.

you heard a knock on your door. you opened it with overwhelming amount of joy to see your boyfriend. it had been a while since you saw him last and you really just wanted to spend some quality time with him. "matty" you said reaching your arms out for a hug, "baby" he said pulling out the y sound as he hugged you. "you ready to go?" he asked me as we released from our long hug. "yeah, i think so" you said looking around after picking up my bag making sure that i didn't forget anything. "we aren't actually swimming though right? because it's freezing and i don't want to get sick" you said looking at matt wonder in your eyes, he just laughed. "no no no don't worry beautiful i wouldn't do that to you" he said place a piece of hair behind your ear and place his hand on your cheek, caressing it. "okay let's go then" you said walking up to his car.

as you hopped in the car, you connect your phone to the aux and started queueing up some songs. he looked over at you as you reached the first red lights and said, "you are so beautiful" you looked back at him making eye contact before looking away to your lap smiling and blushing. he placed his hand on your thigh, where he drew little circles for the remainder of the drive to the beach causing your panties to become a mess, but you soldiered through it as this was a sweet gesture from your sweet boyfriend.

he parked right above the beach where you could see everything from right by as sunset was at its peak. "wow this is so pretty" you say staring at the beautiful orange and pink tones that a shining band reflecting against the ocean, the remaining sunlight sparking against the blue ocean. "not as pretty as you" you look over at your boyfriend to only look away again flustered.

you looked down at your lap to see out of the corner of your eye, matt's pants starting to tent and his hand making it further and further up your thigh. you now looked directly at his crotch and back up to his face where he now became flustered before looking away. "i'm so sorry baby" he said trying to apologise for having a boner, "it's the first time i'm seeing you in weeks and i stuff it up by getting hard" he said pressing his palms to his face and looking down.

"who said you ruined it" you said while now slowly caressing his hard on. "what" he said his breath hitching in his throat. "i mean we clearly haven't done anything like this in a couple weeks because we've been apart but what if we need it" you said feeling his boner a little rougher. "are you sure your okay with that baby? i don't want you to think we need to just because i'm a horny fucktard" all you did was start to undo his belt as he looked at you, eyes filled with seduction. he continued to pull of his belt and pants until his bottom half was naked and his hard cock was sprung up against his stomach.

you took his dick into your hands as you slowly started run your finger over his tip before starting to fully pump his now fully extended length. his noises were every where. he was whining like you had never heard before. you suddenly took his cock into your mouth, his hands going straight into your hair. "i love you so much gorgeous" he said feeling up your ass making you moan around his cock, making him vibrate and groan even louder. as you started going a bit faster, he started bucking his hips up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. you felt him twitch meaning he was close to his finish. you started bobbing your head up and down faster to prompt his orgasm. he whined impossibly louder as his loud shot down your throat. you gently took your mouth from around his still hard cock. he grabbed a nearby napkin to wipe the excess cum from his cock and around your mouth.

"get in the back baby" he said sweetly wiping the cum from your mouth as if he isn't about to rearrange all of your internal organs. you obeyed and crawled into the back, him following behind. he crawled on top of you, making out with you, his cock teasing at your clothed centre. you started moaning already. matt noticed your sudden neediness and tried to rush the foreplay section a bit as you were just wrapped around his cock. he pulled off all of his remaining clothes and all of yours before placing himself comfortably in between your legs, rubbing his cock up and down your aching core.

"babe please stop teasing" you said grabbing his shoulders and neck, not being able to bear the mixture of semi pleasure and pain anymore. he started kissing up your stomach and chest until he was aligned with your face. "your wish is my command beautiful" he said pushing his cock into your core. you moaned in response not knowing how long you were going to last with this amount of pleasure. he started thrusting in and out of you at an inhumane pace that caused you to own lifer and louder with each thrust. "are you already close my baby" matt said feeling you clench around him already, a signifier that you were close. "yes baby, you make me feel so good" you practically screamed. "alright hold on for just a little bit for me" he said simultaneously going faster and faster pushing himself towards the edge. "i don't think i can last much longer if your going the fast" you said in a drunken haze almost not sure if your surroundings anymore. "it's okay cum for me now beautiful" with that you released with an unruly moan as he cummed inside of you.

he slowly pulled out of you, positioning your selves so he was slightly underneath you. "look at the sunset baby" you said as the sun had almost passed the horizon, the orange hues now overpowering every other colour"

"it's almost as beautiful as you"

taglist

@its-jennarose @ilovemattsturn @frozenvegitableoil @ermdontmindthisaccount

#strniolosworld #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut

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hwasoup · 19 days

Text

Tale As Old As Time

@kit-and-wolfe drew this for me in the server so, now imma use it :') Omg hi guys, Ik its been a while since I last updated but it's mainly bc I'm not ready to say goodbye to this series yet TT there's about 2 chapters left guysss so I hope you guys understand how much I'm edging it. Anywho the chapter is finally here !! I hope you enjoy !!

warnings: fearmongering, manipulation words: 1.8k

ch.6 | next

Chapter 7: The Mob

The days have passed since y/n traveled back to the village

Eddie was simply lounging around nearby Y/N’s home, as per Ben’s instruction from a couple of days ago to alert him if Y/N was home. He was just sitting by a bush minding his own business until he looked up and saw in the distance, a woman riding on a horse as fast as the animal could take her. He squinted a bit and realized it was Y/N. Immediately he got up and ran to where Ben was located, obviously in his tavern.

Eventually after a bit of running, he manages to catch Ben before he leaves on a hunt. Gasping for air, he holds onto the cuff of his sweater. “She’s…. She’s back…” Ben stops in his tracks and smirks to himself “well then…. it's time to initiate the plan…” On the other hand, back at the humble inventor’s cottage. Y/N swiftly made her way back home and immediately into her father’s room. She looked at him and gasped at how sickly he looked. His eyes looked sunken, and it was clear that he hasn’t exactly been able to take a bite of food in a couple of hours. Y/N quickly walked to his bedside and grabbed the nearest towel and dunked it in some cool water that was in a bucket in the corner of his room. She wrings it out and proceeds to approach him and wipe his face, hoping that his fever would subside a bit. Mauricio’s eyes slightly flutter at the feeling of cool water drying on his face, he looks up groggily and mumbled “Mija?” Y/N’s heart melted, and she whispered “shhh, no te preocupes…I’m home.”

Mauricio took a minute to process her words. His eyes widened when he fully registered that his precious daughter was sitting right before him. He immediately adjusts his posture and tries to sit up to the best of his ability "…. I thought I would never see you again...” Mauricio immediately leans in for a hug. Y/N happily returns it to him and rests her chin on his shoulder “I missed you so much…” Mauricio tightened his hug with his daughter until he remembered a specific detail... “But…but the beast. How…how did you even escape!”

“Papa, I didn’t escape…he let me go..” She says fondly. Mauricio looked at her shocked “what? The Beast did ??” Y/N unknowingly smiles fondly at the thought of the man… “yes…Miguel let me go...” Mauricio raised some eyebrows “MIGU-” he started furiously coughing. Y/N patted his back to help him ease his lungs from all of his coughing. His voice was strained from his coughs, and he cleared his voice a bit. “That…ese monstruo ?” Y/N immediately shook her head “not a monster…he’s different…he’s quirky, silly, and incredibly gentle..he’s…. he’s changed…” She bites her lip and looks up at her father until she hears a knock on the door. “I’ll be back papa.” She stands up from sitting on the edge of the bed and goes to attend the door. A man stood at the door with a menacing grin “erm…con que te puedo ayudar..” she says hesitantly. “Vine a recoger a tu padre” he says with an eerie voice. “Wait…my papa ??” she says in surprise. Y/N stands there looking at the man with confusion in her eyes, as well as worry as she hopes that her father didn’t do anything to further tarnish the broken reputation he has in the village.

“Don’t worry senorita..we’ll take care of him” the man says as he moves from her sight and shows her a locked wooden carriage, on the side saying Psiquiátrico de alocado. Surrounding the carriage, she noticed the villagers all surrounding it, with torches and pitchforks ready to use them as weapons if it comes to that point. Y/N immediately registered what was happening and immediately protected her father “MI PAPA NO ES UN LOCO” she said with fierceness in her voice. She was pushed aside by two villagers who barged into her home and forcibly dragged-out Mauricio and threw him inside the carriage. Y/N got up immediately and tried her best to try and get him out, but all she could do was just be pushed away. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as everything suddenly started to look hopeless. “Poor Y/N…it really is a shame about your father...” “Ben!” Y/N looked at him desperately as she held onto the hem of his shirt “please, you know he’s not crazy” Ben hummed as he played faux innocence “but you see Y/N your father… he’s been making absurd claims, but….I am able to…well clear up this small misunderstanding…if…” Y/N looks up at him desperately “If what!” Ben chuckles and grabs her by the waist making her body be pushed against his. “If you marry me” he says with a grin. Ben leans down and tries to sniff her soft hair “one small word Y/N that’s all it takes…” Anger bubbled in Y/N’s body, and she pushes him away, her nonverbal actions speaking in volumes as to her response to his manipulation tactic. Ben scowls at her and gruffly says “Have it your way then...” and he walks away to the crowd until Y/N yells “WAIT”

“WHAT CLAIMS WAS MY FATHER EVEN MAKING” she yelled out. Ben turned to her and chuckled “oh…why about a Beast..” Y/N in that moment remembered she had the magic mirror in the pocket of her apron and she pulls it out “PLEASE ITS TRUE… I HAVE PROOF.” She looks down at the mirror and softly spoke to it “Show me The Beast”

The mirror glowed a green color and rose into the air, a bright flashing light arose and projected an image on its reflective glass surface and revealed Miguel and his beastly appearance. Every villager, including Ben gasped at his ghastly sight. Even Eddie stepped back a bit after seeing it

In awe Ben ripped the mirror out of the air and approached the villagers “look at this sorcery, look at this BEAST!” He turned the mirror around to show the villagers “LOOK AT HIS FANGS, HIS CLAWS!”

Y/N’s heart broke at how people saw him and tried her best to defend him “No..please…don't be afraid…He’s gentle…and kind” Murmurs were heard throughout the crowd…but Ben…he was appalled…the woman he desired so much to be his wife…was calling the Beast KIND….words that she had never said to him. He turns to her in anger, anger that the Beast has clearly won her affections and in an accusatory tone pointed at her

“The monster has her under his spell…. IF I DIDN'T”T KNOW BETTER I CAN SAY SHE CARES FOR HIM” “HE'S NOT A MONSTER BEN…YOU ARE” Ben’s face grimaced, but he had to mask it in front of the villagers “I’ve heard of the effects of Dark Magic, but never like this…” Ben decided on what to do. “THIS IS A THREAT TO THE BANE OF OUR EXISTENCE” The villagers cheered in agreement as they truly believed that Y/N was under a spell and that she is now a danger. “WE CAN'T HAVE HER WARNING THE CREATURE, LOCK HER UP TOO !”

Y/N’s heart shattered as she was immediately grabbed by the arms of Ben, the man of the carriage opened the doors and allowed Ben to throw her inside the wooden box alongside her father as well and closed the doors of it as well. His face was filled with fury, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Eddie.. “Ben… with all due respect but-”

“SHUT IT OR YOU'LL BE WITH THEM TOO, AND FETCH MY HORSE”

Eddie’s voice reduced to a whimper and he looked down…He knew this was wrong…what was originally a menacing plan had now become just pure cruelty. He knew he couldn’t fight against an angry Ben so he stayed silent and left to do what he was instructed.

Ben then proceeded to initiate a riot with the villagers, to prepare to fight, to encourage them to kill the Beast. Each villager went into their homes and brought out muskets, pitchforks, knives, torches, anything that could be used as a weapon. After what seemed minutes, Ben led a mob of angry villagers and used the magic mirror to find where the castle was located and led them out and directly into the woods.

______________________________________________________________ Inside the carriage however Y/N was huddled beside her father as she tried to check on his health despite the severe conditions they were in. Y/N was scared for Miguel…she wanted to warn him desperately, but she also needed to watch her father. She thought long and hard until she decided that she needed to warn Miguel.

“Papa…I need to warn him..” Mauricio looked up at her and coughed “Ay Mija..but…I- I’m scared for you…It will be dangerous” Y/N crouched beside him and nodded “yes…it will be..but, he did everything for me…he even gifted me his library..” Mauricio’s eyes widened “a library ? How many books are there ?” Y/N chuckled “more than what this village can even hold, Papa..trust me…he saved me from the wolves and now..I must repay him..” Mauricio looked into her eyes and saw a look that he had never seen in his precious daughter’s eyes. He used to have that look when he was younger and when his wife was alive. He then smiled softly knowing that well…his daughter is all grown up now, even if she hasn’t realized it herself. “If it what your heart desires…then…I could try and pick the lock” Y/N smiled as she listened to her father ramble “After all, it's only just gears and springs” he reached his hand outside the bars of the carriage to get a hold of the lock. “ But..I would need something..” he turns to look at her “shar…p” Y/N was already holding a hair pin on the palm of her hand. Mauricio chuckled and took it into his hands “perfect” He then placed his hands back out of the bars and took a hold of the lock again and used the pin to start picking at it. He eventually finally opened the lock and pushed the doors of the carriage open, quickly getting himself out as well as y/n. He turned to her and ran with her to the stables and whispered to her “take Felipe as well as this coat and go warn your friend” Y/N nodded and whispered a small thank you to him as she quickly packed everything and immediately got on Felipe and rode on him, holding onto the reins as she prayed that the trusty steed would gallop as quickly as possible to the castle.

Maurico watched as she disappeared back into the forest and smiled softly, reiterating the thoughts he had before…

his daughter was in love…even if she hasn’t realized or admitted it yet.

taglist:

@cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles,@xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n,

@badbishsblog, @faimmm, @keendreamknight, @texanadmirer, @stargirrls, @itzsab,@delectableworm,@jadeloverxd @pinkmistart, kishimiest,

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel atsv

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dinoace2 · 5 months

Text

I had a cute little story idea so you all must deal with my sappy ass

This one's just some sweet short astarion comfort fluff bc I need more of that in my life

(AFaB Tav, referred to as She/Her, mention of periods. 575 words)

~~~~~

They were more or less together at this point, mutual pining and spending all their time with one another, though neither said it aloud. Tav let him feed on her neck whenever he needed, though he would only do so if she offered first. This was rarely an issue, however, since she had a tendency to make this offer on a daily basis.

Lately, though, she hadn't. For the last several days, whenever the party retreated to their camp for some much-needed rest, Tav would immediately go straight to her tent and lay down.

Astarion paced outside of her tent, wondering whether or not to ask about it. Was she upset with him? Did he do something wrong? Was she finally fed up with him? No, no, that couldn't be it. Right?

After fighting with himself for a while, he slowly poked his head in, seeing Tav curled up around a pillow, her back to him. "Hello, darling...I just wanted to check in on you. Is everything alright?"

She paused, a low grumble in her throat. "...yeah. just been...I dunno...a bit extra tired. I'm okay."

That didn't sound okay. Tav was usually so strong, so energetic...this definitely wasn't normal.

He cleared his throat. "...does this, perhaps...have anything to do with my, ah...lack of feeding these last few days?" He paused, then shook his head quickly. "I-i would like to be clear, I'm not asking for it at the moment! I was simply...inquiring. Trying to gain an understanding, that's all." He chuckled. "Youre the one who always insists upon honesty and 'no more secrets', after all."

Tav paused then let out a long sigh, sitting up and giving the poor, strangled pillow a break. "...Sorry. I....its really rather silly...perhaps almost selfish..." she turned around, looking up at him from where she sat. "As much as I'd love to share right now, I've been losing enough blood as it is...im not sure it'd end well if I were to give up more."

Losing blood? His face paled, somehow more than usual. Was she injured? She didn't look hurt. He ransacked his memory to try and figure out when or where she could have taken such a hit, all the while looking her up and down for any physical signs of pain.

"I...oh dear...uh...if I may ask, what happened, darling? When did you get hurt? Did you fall? Did someone stab you? Who do I need to hunt down?"

Tav was quiet for a moment then let out a soft chuckle. "Im fine, Astarion...really, it's okay."

She...wasn't hurt? Then why was she...

...Oh.

Oh.

His cheeks flushed as bright as his eyes and he was quick to her side, pulling her into his arms. "Darling, why didn't you say so? I absolutely would have understood. You didn't have to hide that from me." He chuckled. "If anyone here knew a thing or two about blood, it would be me, don't you think?"

His comment drew a giggle from the tired warrior in his arms, and she snuggled up. "Thank you, Astarion."

The following days, the rest of the party noticed that Astarion was especially doting on Tav, (or at least more than usual,) being extra snuggly and, in some particular occasions, downright spoiling her. Despite her insistence that it wasn't a big deal, and he really didn't have to go so far, he was incredibly stubborn to ensure that his darling was as comfortable and happy as possible.

~~~~

Idk how to end it so

Thanks for reading! :]

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fic #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 tav #baldurs gate tav #tav #cute fluff #astarion fluff

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gaysindistress · 4 months

Text

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest This fanart has haunted me since the first time I seen it and then I watched the Inglorious Bastards and here we are. There is nothing explicated stated but since Bucky is lowkey inspired by Hans Landa, take care of yourself and skip if you need to.

Footsteps and a knock at the door.

“Mademoiselle?” the quiet voice of a maid drifts from the cracks of the door, “Mademoiselle are you awake? You have invités.”

The code word is what rouses the girl from her fitful sleep. Sliding out of her warm bed, the girl grabs her robe and slips it on before opening her bedroom door for her maid.

“Merci, Josette. How many?” The hoarse voice tears its way from her throat as she steps aside for her maid to come in.

Josette shifts nervously on her feet but stays put before whispering, “One but Mademoiselle, he is… he is the one from the papers.”

The girl nods as she listens to the frightened words of her maid. “Take him to the kitchen and tell him that I will be down momentarily. Give him a glass and a pitcher of water but do not offer him anything else and leave immediately. Wake Monsieur Pierre and tell him that you need him to take you to get honey. Do you understand?”

Josette doesn’t do anything, she just stares at the girl that she’s worked for for the last two years in shock. She begins to tremble and she grips her by the shoulders.

“Tu comprends, Josette?”

She nods and scurries off down the hall, her blonde hair whipping behind her. The girl closes her door and begins to fix her appearance in her vanity mirror, rebraiding a braid she wore to sleep that night. She changes into her usual pair of cotton dungarees with a worn white blouse under and puts on the terribly knitted cardigan she made when Monsieur Pierre’s wife was first teaching her. Unable to find her boots, she slips on her oxfords and stalls at the door with her hand on the knob. She had hoped that it would’ve taken the bastard longer to find her but alas time is never going to be on her side.

She pulls the door open and walks to the kitchen. She’d come to love this chateau during her months here and would miss it when she undoubtedly would be forced to flee. Pierre’s hushed voice draws her attention behind her but she doesn’t turn around. He’s telling Josette to hurry up and it almost made her chuckle. He wasn’t fond of the young blonde and would lecture her regularly. It seemed as though nothing would ever change from the sound of his frustrated voice.

The flicking candle light in the kitchen is a warning, an omen really as she drew closer. She knows who was sitting in there, the man who had been haunting her dreams for years now.

“Monsieur,” she says in demure tone as she steps into the kitchen, “I apologize for my staff. She is a nervous girl. Would you like something to drink other than water? Coffee? Tea?”

“Fräulein,” the menacing voice that plagues her drawls, “you know that’s not how you should address me.”

The switch from French to German causes her to freeze internally but she doesn’t let it show. Instead she feigns nativity and she shakes her head at him, “I’m afraid I do not speak German, only French.”

He only stares at her. His sharp blue eyes are intense as they were before but the evidence of their time together is everlasting. A deep scar that stretches from his eyebrow to the bottom of his eye socket and a milky white eye in the middle of it.

Her lip curls up in a smirk when she turns her face and sits opposite of him. He’s dressed in the usual attire of a colonel: an immaculately kept black uniform with a long black overcoat.

“We both know that is a lie, Fräulein.”

She doesn’t respond.

His own smirk overcomes his painfully beautiful face, “Drop the act, y/n.

“I don’t know what or who you’re talking about. There is no act to be dropped and no y/n here.”

He leans back in his chair, causing the wood to creak and groan under his weight. He takes a drink of water while holding eye contact with her. Upon setting it down, the sound of gunfire rips through the air and she tenses while he watches for her reaction. When she doesn’t so much as flinch, he cocks his head at her and narrows his eyes. A car barrels down the gravel driveway and crashes into the ancient tree in the center.

“I would apologize for them but that would be a lie,” he tells her.

There’s a shift in the air and her demure french woman act is, in fact, dropped.

Her accented German cuts thick through the air, “What do you want?”

“You.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“No.”

“I will burn this shithole to the ground,” he says as he pulls out a cigarette tin and lights a cigarette. He offers one to her and she takes it, allowing him to light it.

“Is that meant to scare me into going with you? Come on, James, you have done worse than that and I suspect you will do far more.”

“Perhaps,” he agrees with a shrug of his shoulders. “But you will come with me, y/n. Tonight.”

“No,” she states again, blowing out her smoke and crossing her arms.

“Defiant as always I see,” he mutters under his breath as he too takes a drag of his cigarette.

There is a long silent pause as the two of them smoke and stare at each other. His beauty hasn’t waned over the years but it’s turned deadly. The scar she gave him when she escaped him that night adds to the murderous edge to his gaze. The uniform that he wears is foul and makes her sick to her stomach. He’d promised to leave, promised to get away before things got bad. He’d promised to come for her once it was safe and they could live the life they had dreamed of.

He’d broken all of those promises when he put on that uniform. All but one promise that is. He has come for her and he would be able to provide her with his sick verison of safety.

“One of us is going to die,” she says finally whilst tapping the ashes of her cigarette onto the floor. “That’s the only way this ends.”

“No, Fräulein. There is another way but you will not like it.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #1940s #1940s bucky #40s bucky #40s au #hydra au #dark bucky x you #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes

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unicyclehippo · 6 months

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sad kiss imodna?

imogen looked for laudna in the reading nook where they’d first met the kid. she’s almost certain she’d find her there—laudna had a habit of poking bruises, and this one was going to sting for a while.

the room was roughly square. a few desks lined the walls; one of those round lights was ensconced above each of them but were dimmed now. beyond the desks was a small maze of bookshelves. imogen moved past them. she did nothing to disguise her approach, the click of her boots against stone, swish of her dress, the mental crackle of her searching mind. the far wall of the room curved slightly—they must be in the base of the tower—and cut out from the grey stone was a door leading to a small balcony. there, just as imogen suspected, stood laudna. hands resting on the balustrade, she stared out across the rapidly darkening city. imogen joined her. they watched together, enraptured, as an energy seemed to flow through the city streets and, one by one, glowing streetlights began to stir like stars in their infancy.

‘she’s alright,’ imogen said eventually. ‘fearne stayed a bit longer to see if she could lure her out but i think she’s done for today.’

‘that’s good,’ laudna said, very quietly. ‘fearne is fun—gwendolyn will feel comfortable with her.’

‘you’re fun too.’

it didn’t reassure as imogen hoped it would. laudna’s smile trembled like the last leaf of autumn, its drop imminent. she said nothing.

it might have been wise to look around for any of their friends, but imogen wasn’t all that bothered if they saw. soon enough, they were going to leave the planet and she had no bets on what would happen after that. here and now, she found she wasn’t that concerned with their friends finding out what they’d suspected since meeting her—that she was in love with laudna, that they were an item, that given half the chance and a moment of peace imogen would give into the urge to step closer to laudna and, hand against her cheek, turn her eyes ever so gently away from the city.

‘can i kiss you?’ she asked.

laudna lifted a hand to press imogen’s, to keep it where it was.

‘you’re trying to distract me.’

‘yeah, i am. is that okay?’

laudna nodded. there was a smudge beneath her eyes where she had wiped black tears. imogen leaned in, touched her lips to laudna’s cheek. it warmed beneath her attention, part blush, part the singe of her own power.

‘imogen…’ disappointment - hope - crept over her name.

she smiled. ‘it’s alright, honey. properly now, i promise.’

imogen stepped closer—close enough that laudna had to retreat, though she seemed disinclined, happy to lean into imogen and wrap around her like ivy. when imogen had her crowded against the corner of the railing, though, laudna tensed. imogen pulled and turned, slotted herself against the stone guard, and drew laudna into her.

laudna came willingly, sweetly. she touched imogen’s face and brought their lips together. the kiss was achingly soft. careful. with every shift—the tremble of her own hands, the press of laudna’s lips against her own, tiny testing kisses—imogen could almost sense the repairs. each kiss a stitch in the rip, a brick in the wall. laudna’s taut strings started to relax. she leaned more heavily into imogen and the cautious fingers on her cheek and shoulder warmed, grew a little more brave.

laudna slid a hand around imogen’s waist. the other buried itself in her hair, stroked at her hairline. it was making imogen shiver—the tickle of it, but also the maddening closeness, laudna wrapped all around her, the dual throb of their minds that agreed close wasn’t close enough, the way her nail scraped against the fine hairs of her neck every few touches and imogen let herself imagine it as she kissed laudna more deeply. imagined a sharp nail cutting her, the wet glide of a finger through blood, laudna’s mouth, sharp teeth, how it would feel to be consumed by her, soul and all.

‘imogen,’ laudna gasped. ‘please—‘

‘anything, anything you want,’

hunger lit in laudna’s eyes, bright and wonderful. it worked as the streetlamps did to illuminate her—the sadness, the relief, the love—and the shadows that lingered were less than they were, but darker for all the light.

‘you were remarkable today,’ laudna said, lips dragging against the corner of imogen’s mouth. she kissed her very sweetly and softly, every ounce of it filled with admiration. ‘you are always remarkable but today—that storm—and flying with you—‘ she scratched gently at imogen’s neck. imogen made a sound high in her throat, a breathy whimper; laudna paused, withdrew. ‘did i do that?’

imogen flushed. ‘you - you’re scratching my neck. it’s nice.’

laudna flexed the hand on the back of imogen’s neck, eyes darting there as if only just realising its placement. ‘oh. may i—kiss you there?’

‘oh fuck. yeah, please.’ imogen gripped onto laudna’s waist and hoped to every god there was that she didn’t seem to bloody desperate, tilting her neck to the side. actually, fuck that, she could be desperate if she wanted. so long as laudna didn’t mind. she didn’t seem to mind. laudna inched closer. she was nearly—but not quite—weightless and the slight pressure pushed imogen further against the railing. the stone pushed into her spine, uncomfortable enough to keep imogen in the here and now, which she hoped would be sufficient to keep her from embarrassing herself. all bets were off as laudna leaned in and, without fanfare, kissed imogen’s neck.

imogen groaned, a funny hitched noise. laudna hummed, intrigued, and swiped her tongue against the same spot. imogen swore.

‘oh gods, laud—‘

‘sorry, should i—‘

‘please, keep goin’. if you want.’ when laudna only kissed her neck again in reply, imogen trembled with relief. she gripped the railing with one hand, leaning heavily to give her girlfriend more space to work, and lost her mind a little to the rising shiver working through her body and laudna’s unending attention, the drag of her lips against her skin, sighs getting warmer almost hot as laudna began to warm up, and she cried out, eyes darting open, when laudna scraped sharp teeth across her pulse. imogen’s knees buckled. her gloves creaked as she grabbed the railing hard. head swimming, she shook in laudna’s embrace, whimpered again.

‘you’re so beautiful,’ laudna whispered. ‘so capable, so powerful, gorgeous,’ she insisted, hungry rasp catching in the back of her throat. ‘imogen, my imogen.’ she mouthed at the taut column of imogen’s neck, down, down to the cracks that split her skin. not many made their way past her neckline but there was one scar that splintered past her clavicle. laudna dipped her head and, arm tightening around Imogen’s waist, dragged her tongue along the line of it.

‘oh fuck!’ a bolt of heat shot through imogen. she groaned low, the sound loud enough that laudna drew back, looking faintly surprised. imogen couldn’t meet her eyes just yet—instead pressing her mind out to make sure no one was close enough to witness their private conversation.

‘imogen? darling?’

‘i- that was -‘ imogen laughed a little. ‘if you keep doing that, i’m gonna lose my mind a bit and we’re gonna need to find a room.’ laudna’s mouth shifted to an understanding oh. ‘yeah. and,’ past her own excitement, imogen could see laudna’s hesitation. ‘i don’t think we’re ready for that just yet.’

laudna flushed prettily. ‘perhaps not,’ she agreed. ‘but that was—‘

‘perfect.’

laudna preened a little, pleased. then her attention turned thoughtful, and amused at the edges. ‘you’re a very good distraction,’ she said, almost laughing. very sweetly, adding, ‘and very kind. thank you, imogen.’

imogen wanted to tell her rather fervently that laudna was welcome to ravish her at any time, but withheld. instead, she reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind laudna’s ear. brushed the golden cuff with a gentle finger.

‘everything good in me, you gave me. you know that?’ laudna looked like she would argue. imogen shook her head. ‘when we met, i was so tired. i saw the worst in everyone and it hurt, all the time. the things i woulda done for a little peace…’ her voice shook. ‘don’t you for a minute think fun scary laudna isn’t the most important person in the world to me. you let me laugh for the first time in years. you made the world feel like a good place again. you - you saved me, laud,’ she said, as she had the last time they were here in Whitestone, though that time the confession had fallen on dead ears. ‘i’m so lucky. to get to have you with me. no matter what happens,’ she said, and drew laudna in for a kiss.

after their activities here, and the heated feeling in her gut and her words, it was not the most gentle kiss they had shared. part of imogen wanted to burn this knowledge into laudna and she kissed like that, hot and fierce. after a moment, laudna made a noise, a low moan, that shot right through her to her core. imogen pulled back, reluctantly. ‘we should - we should find the others.’

laudna frowned severely. ‘i hate them,’ she muttered, lips twitching upwards when imogen burst into laughter. ‘fine.’ laudna’s fingers skittered over imogen’s face, her smile. ‘i shall follow anywhere you lead, my darling.’

#tagging my stories #prompt fill #cr fic #imodna my beloveds #a tiny bit steamy which is not where i meant for it to go but hooray!

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