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#and i will cling to hope probably forever
andithil · 3 months
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resposted with permission from xray_vex (@xray-vex)
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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Would they or would they not catch you…
Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.
He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.
‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.
‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.
‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.
You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.
Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀
Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.
He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.
‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.
‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.
You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.
Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.
However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.
Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.
‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.
‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.
Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.
What a sweetheart.
Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.
Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”
( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)
Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 days
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drunk in love
in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there
fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight
“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 
“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 
“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 
“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”
Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 
“Call me that again.”
Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 
“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”
“Because you love me?”
“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 
You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonder what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.
“Kiss?”
He gently grabs your wrists. 
“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”
Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 
“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.
“Can we kiss forever?”
“We can try,” he muses. 
“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”
“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”
He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 
“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”
You pout. 
“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”
Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 
“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”
“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 
“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”
He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 
You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 
“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”
Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 
“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”
“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”
He chuckles. 
“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”
You make a face. 
“I’m always nice.”
“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 
“In my head I am.”
He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 
“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”
“You think I’m not usually nice?”
“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”
“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 
He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 
“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”
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lots-of-pockets · 6 months
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Five times you find an excuse to carry Natasha and the one time she asks
Paring: Natasha x you
Words: 4756
Warnings: some swearing i think
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1.
You tenderly grip the side of Natasha's thigh to keep it still as you graze the disinfectant wipe over the shallow cut placed just above her knee, your thumb absentmindedly grazing soft circles across the warm skin.
She was sat on the closed toilet seat clad in nothing but her sports bra and underwear, her hand clinging to both your index and middle finger as her eyes watch your every move.
Scrapes and bruises littered seemingly every inch of her pale skin, marring the already scarred, yet still beautiful canvas that sat before you. Some were sunken in and white, old from years of healing. Some were newer, still pink and raised. Each and every one told a different story. Some of which you knew, but most of which you didn't and probably never would.
You didn't necessarily mind honestly. Because all that you cared about right now was the fact she was letting you take care of her. That she'd allowed you to tenderly undress her without a single word of complaint. You had her trust, and if that's was all she was ever willing to give, it would forever be enough.
Not a single word had been spoken between you since she'd gotten home from her latest mission with Steve just twenty short minutes ago, and you weren't in a hurry to break whatever comfortable silence had settled upon you and you knew Natasha wasn't either.
You give the flesh of her thigh a comforting squeeze when a small, pained hitch of breath emits from the back of her throat at the sting the wipe against her skin, giving the damp skin a soft kiss before covering it with a large bandaid.
You then look up at her from your spot knelt between her legs, content to find her green irises already staring right back at you. They looked exhausted. She looked exhausted, and all you wanted to do was scoop her up into your arms and take her to bed.
The sudden shine of her eyes is what halts you in your tracks.
It was oh so rare to see Natasha cry. To witness her completely drop her walls and allow you to see the true pain she always seems to mask without an issue. It was a sight that has your own throat constricting and without a word, you place your hands underneath her armpits and coax her off of the closed toilet seat and onto your lap.
She straddles you, legs tight around your hips as arms rise to settle around your neck. Your own arms settle around her shaking frame, one hand cupping the back of her head as the other traces soothing circles over the bare expanse of skin.
"I've got you, baby." You finally speak, nuzzling your nose into her neck and taking in soothing scent of slight sweat and vanilla. Your lips press a soft kiss to the skin as you pull away just slightly, tightening your hold around Natasha to reassure her you wouldn't be letting go until she requested it.
She was trembling in your arms, tears hot against your neck, yet her sobs of grief don't make a single sound. Natasha had always been a silent cryer. No matter the circumstance; no matter the situation, it was quiet. All of the time. And you absolutely hated it.
She deserved to feel her grief just as loud and freely as everyone else, yet she fails to agree. She'd never outrightly told you so, but the look in her face as you'd spoken those words had been enough. And so you simply hold her. Love her. Cherish her, hoping that one day she'd realise she deserves the entire world.
Natasha soon stills in your embrace, those once barely audible hitching breaths easing into just quiet sniffles. With a soft kiss to her shoulder to let her know you had her, you place a hand beneath of each of her thighs and haul yourself to your feet.
It was an easy feet considering her slight frame, but that doesn't stop the quiet squeak of surprise that escapes her lips as you bounce her up in your arms slightly to get a better grip, forearms slipping beneath her behind as opposed to her thighs as you carry her through to your shared bedroom.
"I've got you, baby."
2.
"Babe, can you help?!"
At the sound of your girlfriends voice, your eyes instinctively flicker away from the tv and towards the kitchen doorway. You don't wait for her to ask again as you pause the show you were both currently binging before rising to your feet, shuffling through to the kitchen where you were greeted with the sight of Natasha trying, yet failing to reach something on the top shelf of the cupboard.
She was clad in nothing but one of your oversized shirts and underwear, her typical attire after a long day at work.
She jumps, and you couldn't help but snort in amusement when she doesn't even come close to reaching the desired item. She glances back at the sound of your stifled laugh, an unamused look appearing on her face in the form of a pout. Without a word, you walk towards her and cup her cheeks before pressing your lips against the warm skin of her forehead. She all but melts into your touch, and you allow your lips to linger just a few seconds longer than normal because of that.
As you pull away and Natasha falls against your chest, you look up to see the item she'd been attempting to grab was a bag of popcorn. You knew you could easily reach up and grab it for her. After all, you weren't exactly small. But a part of you wanted Natasha to be able to grab it herself. She was miss independent. Always had been and you knew she'd appreciate it if you didn't treat her like she was incapable.
With that in mind, you give her body one last squeeze before bending down and wrapping your arms underneath her backside.
Natasha glances down at you with an adorably confused expression on her face, and you press an affectionate kiss to her clothed chest before standing up straight and bringing her with you. She lets out a undignified yelp at the unexpected action, her arms all but clinging to your head as it settles in between her breasts.
Keeping your arms hooked tightly beneath her butt, you bounce her up slightly wanting her to be able to reach her popcorn without fearing she'd fall.
"What are you doing?" She laughs as she looks down at you. You were greeted with an adorably tiny double chin, and you couldn't help but nuzzle your nose against the soft flesh before gesturing with your head towards the popcorn.
"Grab your popcorn baby." You coax, and Natasha rolls her eyes fondly as she releases you with one arm and successfully grabs her snack. Once it was in her grasp, you don't put her down. You simply allow her to slide down your body so her legs were hooked around your waist. Your arms remain beneath her ass, and you give it a playful squeeze earning yourself a quiet squeak of surprise.
"Snuggle time?" You ask, and Natasha sends you a playful glare before nodding her head and allowing you to carry her back through to the living room.
3.
"Nat? Are you coming to bed baby? It's late and-" the remainder of your words get stuck in your throat when you fully take in the sight that greets you. There your girlfriend was, sprawled out on the gym floor, still clad in her workout gear, fast asleep. She was curled up on her side, hands tucked beneath her chin with legs curled up against her chest.
Slipping into the large room through the small gap you'd created, you kneel down next to her and rest a gentle hand on her bare side. She doesn't make a peep at the touch, telling you that she must be exhausted because Natasha was notoriously known for being one of the lightest sleepers ever.
"Oh baby..." you trial off, unsure as to why she'd allowed herself to fall asleep here when there was a perfectly good bed available just upstairs. It was past eleven at night now, way too late for her to still be working out but getting that into her head was proving to be exceedingly difficult.
You contemplate your next actions for a few silent moments as you stare down at your sleeping girlfriend, not wanting to wake her but unsure if you were able to carry her such a far distance to your shared room. It wasn't that she heavy. In fact, when she was awake you could carry her miles because at least then she was holding up some of her own weight. But she was asleep now, and you knew she'd be a complete dead weight.
Knowing you had no other choice, you carefully manoeuvre her onto her back and situate yourself between her legs before leaning down and placing your chest against her own. Her arms seem to instinctively rise to cling to your shirt, and you couldn't help but smile at the action as you hook one arm beneath her back, placing the hand of the other against the back of her head before easing her into a sitting position.
She was now straddling your lap, head heavy against your shoulder as her hands dangle limply over your shoulders. You take a few moments to prepare yourself before hooking an arm beneath her backside and rising to your knees. Two arms would probably be easier, but you needed that to keep her chest flush against your own so she didn't fall backwards.
With a quiet grunt, you lift one leg so your foot was planted firmly on the padded floor before using all the strength in you to rise fully to your feet. You manage the task with no more than  a small wobble, and you silently congratulate yourself as you gently bounce Natasha up into your arms so she'd be more supported.
"What?" You hear her grunt in confusion as her legs instinctively tighten around your waist, and you shush her quietly as you rest a tender hand on the back of her head.
"It's just me, pumpkin. Go back to sleep." You murmur into her ear as you muzzle your nose into her neck, and Natasha let's out a heavy sigh before once again falling limp against you.
Once you were sure she wouldn't wake again, you bring both arms back beneath her behind and begin making your way out of the gym and towards the elevator. You silently curse Tony for making the compound so freaking big as the sliding doors open, arms already aching as you step inside and use your elbow to press the button to the floor your shared room was on.
Natasha, just like you'd suspected, was now a dead weight in your arms, legs limp around your waist and head heavy against your shoulder. You could feel the soft breaths of her quiet exhales against your neck as she sleeps peacefully against you, and you allow yourself to take comfort in the feeling as the doors slide open allowing you to stop out.
The journey to your room was thankfully quick, and you gently bounce Natasha up again so she was at less of a risk of falling when you release her momentarily with one of your arms to type in the code. Soon, you were inside your room, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief as you place one of your knees against the mattress before cupping the back of her head and easing her down onto the bed.
Knowing your next task -stripping her of her tight work out gear and into some comfy pyjamas- would be exceedingly more difficult than the last, you decide to take a few moments and climb into bed next next to her. She seems to instinctively sense your presence, curling up against your chest and throwing one of her legs over your waist, her hand slipping underneath your shirt to rest against the bare skin of your back.
You immediately return the embrace, the hand of the arm acting as her pillow grazing gentle patters against her back whilst your other hand trials affectionately just beneath the waistband of her yoga pants.
With the knowledge that you wouldn't be moving for the remainder of the night, you place a tender kiss to her forehead and murmur a quiet I love you against her hairline before allowing your own eyes to flicker closed too.
4.
When you hear Natasha sigh for the third time in just a few minutes, you force yourself to look away from your book and stare at her with a single eyebrow raised. You were both lounged on the couch, Natasha at one end with her blanket and laptop, and you on the other with your book. You'd both just eaten dinner -Mac and cheese courtesy of Yelena, and you had both taken it upon yourselves to have a few minutes of personal time before you inevitably ended up snuggled together.
When you receive no response to your silent question, you bookmark your place in your book before setting it down onto the coffee table.
"What's wrong miss pouty pants?" You tease affectionately as you poke her with your foot, and the red head sends you an unimpressed glare before seemingly reluctantly bringing her attention back to her laptop. Her hands were frozen on the keyboard, and you could see by the reflection in her glasses that was was working on what appears to be yet another mission report.
Understand her frustration, -because this was the fifth document today, you rise to your knees and shuffle over to her, wedging yourself in between her body and the back of the couch.
Your cheek settles on her shoulder, and though she hesitates, you do eventually feel her cheek come to rest atop of your head. You smile at the action as your arm settles around her waist, fingers creeping beneath her shirt to rest against bare skin. 
"When do these need to be in?" You question quietly, and you feel her stomach rise and fall as she takes a deep breath.
"Tuesday." She responds, and you hum in acknowledgement as you reach forward to save the document before closing the laptop.
"What? No! What are you-" she attempts to grab the computer as you reach over to set it on the coffee table next to your book.
"Baby, it's only Friday. You have time." You attempt to assure her as you grab her hand, but Natasha simply shoves you away from her and attempts to make a grab for her computer. Her fingers skim it before you decide enough was enough. Without a word, you rise from the couch, grab Natasha by the underarms and haul her up with you.
She lets out an undignified yelp her chest collides with your own, "What the heck are-"
"No more computers for Natasha today," you interrupt her as you bounce her up in your arms, your arms beneath her backside to keep her supported as you carry her out of the room and up the stairs. She squirms relentlessly throughout the entire journey making it much harder and longer than it needed to be, but you eventually make it upstairs without dropping her on her ass.
"I will kick your ass," she warns in an almost silent growl as you kick your bedroom door open. "Put me down, right no-ahhh!" you toss her onto your shared bed. She glares at you as you climb in next to her, placing a hand on either side of her head.
"What in the actual fu-mhhhfff."
You smirk against her lips when you feel her kiss back without hesitation, knowing you had her right where you wanted her.
5.
Though the sight in front of you was becoming rather amusing, you knew for a fact that if you didn't put a stop to it now, Natasha would hand Tony's ass to him served on a silver platter.
You see, she was sick. And not just a little sick, but a full on fever and flu that had left her so congested she sounded like a duck when she talks. She needed to be in bed. You knew that also, but convincing her was a quiet the fucking task.
You'd attempted to get her into bed, but she'd simply pushed you into it instead, muttering -if you like the bed so damn much, you get in it- underneath her breath before storming out of the room.
Ten minutes later, you were in the meeting room, and the first five minutes had been fine. Natasha had seemingly been able to get herself under control and not a single peep was made. That had changed rather abruptly when Yelena had teasingly poked her sisters red nose, and Natasha, with a sharp glare towards the blonde, had sneezed four times in a row earning herself a look of disgust from Tony.
"Listen red, you're gross and contagious. You're going to make everyone else gross and contagious if you don't get out of here." Tony attempts to be nice about it as he shields himself with a piece of paper, but the damage had already been done if the look of pure anger on Natasha's face was anything to go by.
"You're a man. That automatically makes you gross and contagious. No one likes you and your stupid tin suit so shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you." She growls, and Tony winces as he sends you a helpless look.
You shrug a little helplessly yourself, not knowing what to do without angering the red head further. As they continue to bicker, you feel a poke to your arm. You look over and see Yelena staring at you with a smirk. It was clear to see she was amused also, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes that wasn't hard for you to miss.
"How much do you like your face?" She asks, and you frown in confusion as you glance between the red head and her sister.
"Quite a lot." You admit, and Yelena clicks her tongue in thought for a second before turning back to you.
"I won't be able to carry her myself, but we have more of a chance if it's two against one." She murmurs, and you hum in thought as you watch Natasha take yet another step towards a terrified Tony.
You knew this may be your only option to get her out of here. After all, it was becoming increasingly obvious that she wouldn't willingly leave herself and there was no way you could talk her out of whatever this was when the threat -Tony- was still within close proximity. You couldn't exactly ask him to leave either, because this was his building.
"Okay. I got her arms. You get her legs." You tell her as you shrug off your jacket, and Yelena nods as she rises to feet and shakes out her arms as it preparing for battle. You snort slightly at the sight, but do the same knowing that by the time you're done, you may no longer be alive.
Yes, Natasha was small, but she was still a former assassin, probably stronger than you and Yelena put together. This was not going to be fun for any of you.
With Yelena close behind, you make your way over to Natasha, stopping just a few feet away. Tony see's you and his eyes light up, proving as a temporary distraction for Natasha who looks confused at the abrupt change of emotion.
Without warning, you lurch forward and grab the red head by the waist, trapping her arms beneath your own as you lift her from her feet. An undignified yelp was your response, and Yelena was quick to step in and grab her flailing legs, wrapping her arms around her calves and effectively pinning them against her own chest.
When it becomes clear she was trapped, Natasha squirming ups a tenfold and you grunt slightly as you begin carrying her out of the room. "What the fuck? Let me go! Stop fucking manhandling me you fucking assholes!"
"Thank you Y/n and mini Romanoff. Bye red!" You hear Tony call, any both you and Yelena share a smirk as you successfully manage to carry the unhappy Russian into the hallway.
"No sex for a week! A month! Yelena I'm stealing your vest and setting it on fire! This is not fair! Let me go!"
Yelena looks mildly disgusted at Natasha's words towards you, but when she hears the threat towards her vest, she looks as though she may cry. When she meets your eyes, you shake your head, silently letting her know Natasha didn't mean it, and whilst she seems doubtful, she does nod her own head in understanding.
Soon, you were in the elevator, a much needed break for your arms and legs because this was way worse than any workout you'd ever done.
"Nat, you're sick," you start as you tighten grip around her. By now, she was becoming increasingly close to getting herself out of your grip, and that would not be good for either of you. "You know what Tony's like with germs. And you need to be in bed. Preferably with some medicine and soup. Doesn't she lena?"
Before Yelena could get a word in edgeways, Natasha throws her head back, and it collides painfully with your nose. You immediately see stars at the action, your eyes burning with the familiar sensation of tears that immediately escape and fall down your cheeks.
Fucking hell that hurt. What was her head made of? Cement?!
Natasha, thankfully, seems unaware of what she'd done, but Yelena see's it and cackles. The elevator doors open, and without a word, you yank Natasha's legs out of her grip, set her down onto the floor, press a kiss to her head to let her know it wasn't her you were mad at before storming off.
"Y/n, no! I'm sorry." You hear Yelena cry. "Don't leave me here with her!!!"
It was your turn to laugh. Serves her fucking right.
A week later, you still had two black eyes.
6.
When the clock strikes one AM and there was still no sign of Natasha, you let out a quiet sigh and kick off the blankets before climbing out of bed. You shiver slightly at the coldness that greets you, pulling on the closest hoodie you could find. It just so happened to be one of the many oversized ones that Natasha's owns.
It falls to your mid thigh and just about covers your ass. You smile in amusement the sight, knowing that this very hoodie all but buries Natasha and falls to her knees.
With a fond eye roll at your tiny girlfriend, you leave the room with the intention of figuring out just where she'd disappeared off too. Instinct tells you she was in the very place you'd left her after heading to bed yourself about four hours ago, and when you reach her office, you figure yourself to be correct.
There Natasha was, still sat at her desk, glasses perched on her nose as her tired eyes flicker over her computer screen. Next to her sat at least three empty cups of coffee, and you sigh at the sight, knowing she'd done everything in her power to keep herself awake despite being exhausted.
Pushing the door open further, you step inside and lightly clear your throat to let your presence be known. Natasha looks up at the sound, her lips quirking up into a small smile at the sight of you in her clothes. It didn't happen often due to your size difference, but either way she absolutely adored it.
"Hi baby." she greets tiredly, and you hum as you step closer and perch yourself at the end of her desk. Her hand immediately settles on your thigh, and you set your own on top of it, trailing the pad of your thumb over the soft skin.
"Hi you. How are you getting on?" You decide not to bombard her with the why aren't you in bed question just yet, knowing it wouldn't do either of you any good.
Natasha sighs as she uses her free hand to pull off her glasses, setting them down next to her still open laptop, "Good. Nearly done actually." She tells you somewhat proudly, and you couldn't help but smile as you gently reach forward to cup her cheek before pressing your lips in a tender kiss against the spot between her eyebrows. Her eyes flutter closed at the gentle affection, allowing you to linger for a little while longer than normal.
"It's late pumpkin." Is all you say as you reluctantly pull away, gentle fingers tucking her hair behind her ear, and Natasha sighs quietly as she nods her head. Her eyes flicker between you and her computer, and you sense that maybe there was something she wants to say but can't quite bring herself to do so. Not wanting to push her, or able to read her mind much to your dismay, you simply perch yourself on her lap and wrap an arm around her shoulder.
Knowing this wasn't something you did frequently nor often, Natasha was quick to wrap her arms around your waist and tuck her head just beneath your chin. In response, you cup the back of her head with your free hand, nuzzling your nose against her hair and taking in the comforting smell of vanilla.
About fifteen minutes pass before you feel her breathing deepen signalling she was growing dangerously close to falling asleep, and knowing her bed would be much more comfortable than her chair, you kiss her head before pulling yourself away from her and rising to your feet.
Natasha looks up at you with an unhappy frown as she grabs the material of your hoodie and tugs in a futile attempt at pulling you back down to her lap.
"No baby," you shake your head as you pry her hands off of you, "let's go to bed, okay?" You attempt to coax, and Natasha let's out a rather quiet, unhappy whine as she attempts to reach for you again.
"Nat, baby, bed. Your chair won't be comfortable." You strive to persuade, bending down and cupping her face in your hands. Tired eyes blink back up at you for just a moment before she pouts and holds out her arms, and you go to take her hands, assuming she wanted your help standing up.
Natasha, however, frowns and shakes her head, only furthering your confusion.
"What is it, my love?"
You watch as hesitation peeks in through the sleepiness lingering in her eyes for just a moment before she swallows heavily and once again holds out her arms. Her lips part, a barely audible question slipping through.
"Carry me?"
It was said so quietly, so nervously it was obvious she was scared that you'd say no. Of course you'd never. Not once has she ever asked you to carry her before. Each and every time you'd done so, you'd been the one to initiate it and not a single complaint had ever slipped from her lips.
It leaves you to believe that maybe, just maybe, there had been many times she'd wanted to ask, but was simply just too scared. Heart melting, you place your hands underneath her armpits and tug her to feet.
"Of course I'll carry you baby. You never have to ask." You murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before bending down slightly and wrapping your arms beneath her behind. You stand, bringing her with you, and almost immediately her legs hook tightly around her waist, arms loose around your neck as her small hands tangle through the baby hair at the nape of your neck.
Keeping one of your arms beneath her for support, you rest the other across her back and begin to carry her out of the room.
"I love you." You hear her murmur, and you smile softly as you give her body a squeeze.
"I love you more than you could ever imagine."
2K notes · View notes
minecraftfalloutau · 1 year
Text
You know it's bad when it's less cringe to like homestuck than dsmp these days. Good lord.
I post this every time but again, taps the sign, we do not support dream team here. I don't care who or what you are, nor for your reasonings for still liking them (which, already, how about you use a braincell are two for once yeah?), here we don't. That man is awful, and will never learn from his mistakes. He has shown time and time again he doesn't care because he know his fans practically worship him like a god, who see no fault and blame others instead. It is not bird app drama or whatever. It is allegations being confirmed true. It is truths being revealed. It's shit that's been out for months but got ignored because 'dweamy weamy would never' even if he confirms it's true. These bastards do lore on the server suddenly when damage control is to be done, to make people forget. They go after the things they know people care for a lot, such as Michael, Shroud, Snowchester, Las Nevadas even. That makes people talk about that more than calling them out for being awful people.
This world, this au, can exist without them. And it will. All characters played by them (XD, tftsmp, even Drista) are completely separated from them. They are no longer related to them in any way.
'Oh but ccs haven't said anything so they don't care' yes they haven't said anything because they don't live on bird app. Make enough noise about it (as already been in motion) and maybe, just maybe, they'll actually wake the fuck up. I ain't gonna defend any of em blindly, because that is just stupid, but sometimes there are factors to keep in mind.
Chances are I'll be abandoning this AU before it even starts, depending on how everything plays out, which sucks because there is a lot planned out already, but hey, there are more important matters at hand.
I haven't even made a welcome post and it's already gone downhill because of shitty people that aren't even in this. Fer fuck's sake.
If I do end up abandoning this completely I might just turn it into some blog for my silly little desert/mesa town of Minecraft ocs.
I hope that man finally loses the platform he's been abusing for who knows how long. Actively praying for his downfall at this point.
0 notes
mrsaltieri-real · 9 months
Text
Ethan Landry as a Boyfriend Headcanons (SFW AND NSFW)
I was bored so rewatched Scream 6 and these just popped into my mind, hope you enjoy!
Warning/s: 18+, Fem!AFAB!Girlfriend, language, mentions of smut, oral, p in v, riding, sub!Ethan, begging, mentions of orgasm denial, degrading kink, praise kink, sweet and soft Ethan, you get the picture
Word count: approx 600
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SFW
Very, very clingy. Feels completely out of touch when he’s not around you. The boy will follow you around like a little lost puppy
Big on physical contact. He likes to always be holding your hand or have your arm tucked into his
Yah, he’s touch starved
He’s literally obsessed with you.
Like, to the point where it’s probably concerning to those around you
He’s a shy little bastard though
Gets overstimulated in large groups of people so will absolutely cling to you for dear life in malls
But he really likes going shopping with you and helping you pick out clothes
He absolutely LOVES when you play with his hair
He’ll lie with his head on your lap for hours just relishing in the feeling of your fingers running through his curls
Likes to fall asleep with you in his arms, or the other way round depending
He’s a big spoon little spoon switch for REAL
He blushes every time you pay him a compliment
“You look really nice today, baby”
INSTANTLY RED. How cute is he?
Bless his heart, he’s not a good cook at all so you’re the one who ends up doing the cooking
But he’ll try his best to help until you have to kick him out of the kitchen for somehow burning water
But he’ll sit at the table and watch you cook away with a big old smile on his face
Doesn’t really use pet names himself, but loves it when you call him “baby,” “babe,” and “honey.”
His love languages are quality time, physical touch and words of affirmation
He could sit and listen to you talk about your day forever
He’s the best to gossip with
“And then he told her to fuck off!”
“Shut up, no he didn’t? What happened next??“
Such a good boyfriend, right?
NSFW
He’s a needy little fucker
Like HONESTLY so fucking needy
Such a sub it’s not even funny
Two words: PUSSY WORSHIP
He’ll literally be begging to eat you out until you cum
Over and over again
Will always want to make sure you’ve had at least a couple of orgasms before he even gets his cock out
LOVES when you fuck his face, I don’t make the rules
Absolute master of eating pussy
Guys got the kind of mouth invented for going down
Loves messily sucking on your clit and getting your juices all over his face
He’s such a slut for you, he’d go out of his way to make you feel good
Don’t ask me why, but he’s a thigh and tits kinda guy and pussy obviously
He likes when you’re on top when having sex, completely dominating and taking full control
He himself doesn’t have a dominant bone in his body
Begs really prettily
He absolutely 100% whimpers
He’s so fucking vocal
Likes when you pull his hair when you’re fucking him
Really riles him up
Won’t say it, but loves to be denied of release
Actively wants you to deny him so that when you grant him permission, the satisfaction is just oh so much better
Again, won’t say it but he loves when you’re blowing him and after he already cums you keep sucking
THAT kind of over stimulation? He likes
He’ll be sobbing, saying “thank you, thank you” over and over again when you let him cum
Likes when you look into his eyes while blowing him too. Does all kinds of things to him
Goes absolutely wild when you praise him
He’s playing with your clit just right?
“You’re such a good boy, baby.”
He’d be trying not to bust then and there
He also loves being degraded
Call him pathetic and needy and he’ll be a whimpering mess, almost sobbing from your words and especially if you’re overstimulating him
But balance out the praise and degradation
He’s a very sensitive guy in more ways than one
When you’re riding him he’ll be gazing up at you, hands on your hips watching your tits bouncing and just feel like he’s in heaven
Loves loves loves when you touch yourself in front of him
Really enjoys lazy, early morning sex
But loves long sessions in the afternoon even more
As I said, deny him and he’ll last as long as he can
Don’t deny him? Baby will cum just from eating you out alone he fucking loves it
What can I say? He’d do anything that brings you pleasure. He’s just that kinda guy
2K notes · View notes
onlyhuis · 27 days
Note
for 1k.. mtl likely to completely melt when u go into subspace and say "thank you" after your orgasm? 💤
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member — svt ot13 x gn reader  genre — mtl, fluff (18+) word count — 1.3k (each member has a paragraph) warnings — subspace (reader), just aftercare but there’s allusions to having sex (not explicitly described), implied that svt are dom/reader is a sub, all are gn except shua's uses “good girl” as a nickname notes — requested by @junhuisms for my 🐈 1k event — this has been in my inbox forever i'm sorry nhdnsjs. honestly i feel like all of them would melt but in slightly different ways so i did a little blurb for each. i hope you enjoy! <3
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most
1 - seungcheol
this man is the biggest simp on the entire planet and he would be so so good at taking care of you. i think it’s about 50/50 the amount of time he spends as a hard dom and a soft dom, but regardless of what activities you get up to he is the best at making sure you always feel good. he would melt the hardest on the nights he’s been a little meaner and a little rougher, because how can you be so sexy and so adorable at the same time, especially after you just came four times from his mouth alone? it boosts his ego so much not only that you trust him with all of yourself, but that you love him enough to say thank you afterwards? his day is made. his week is made. his whole year is made.
2 - seungkwan
he is absolutely obsessed with you. his reactions are always big whenever he's around you because he's so in love with you; you could be doing the most mundane thing in the world and he'd react like you just saved a burning building full of orphans and solved world hunger. he’ll melt over literally anything you do, but especially when you get that dopey smile on your face after you cum because your pleasure is his pleasure so your reactions only make him melt even more. he gets so caught up in how cute you are, he’d probably end up falling asleep with you tucked in his arms and forget to clean up.
3 - joshua
he thinks you’re just so adorable. most of the time he enjoys a little pushback when he’s fucking you; being a brat tamer is what gets him off, so he’s always making you beg him to let you cum. but he can never tease you for very long, especially on the times when you decide to be well behaved, so of course he has to reward you for being such a good girl for him. he lives on giving and receiving praise so he’d be thanking you too for letting him take care of you like this.
4 - mingyu
he completely melts. literally reduced to a puddle on the floor or the bed. he would get the biggest puppy eyes and be so pouty because he’s so whipped and he believes you shouldn’t ever have to do any work. he’s the one who needs to be thanking you, actually, because he's so honored that someone as beautiful and perfect as you decided to choose him of all people. he will give you anything and everything you could ever need because he doesn't want you to have a single care in the world, especially when you're being so sweet clinging to his arms. he may not be perfect but he's going to try his damn hardest to make sure he truly earns your thankfulness.
5 - jun
he’d start smiling and giggling, and he wouldn’t stop until you came back out of subspace. he would also get super clingy and hold you close to his chest and stroke your hair and grin uncontrollably. he’d give you the sweetest “you’re welcome” you’ve ever heard and just keep praising you for being so darn cute. he is the snuggliest boy and his aftercare would be the softest and best part of the whole experience.
6 - hoshi
everything about him is intense, especially when you’re in subspace. he fucks you hard and loves you even harder, so when you thank him after your orgasm it would make him so happy and he’d love you even more than before (if that’s even possible). he thinks your reactions are the cutest thing in the world and once you come out of that headspace he’d be begging for another round just so he can see you like that again.
7 - jeonghan
he’d mostly be cocky and proud of himself for making you feel so good, but deep down he'd be so giddy about your reaction. he doesn’t always explicitly say it or show it, but you’re so precious to him and all he really wants is for you to be satisfied and happy. he would absolutely tease you later about thanking him, but inside he’d be blushing and hoping it’s something that’ll become a habit of yours. he’s a fiend for praise and would want to get you there all the time.
8 - seokmin
he has hearts and stars in his eyes for you on a normal day, so it’d only increase when you’re in subspace. he’d get all blushy and embarrassed and tell you not to worry about it because it’s his job to make you feel good, so there’s no need to thank him. he’d wrap you up in blankets if you’re too cold and he’d put a cool washcloth on your forehead if you’re too hot and he’d coo over you with the purest little smile on his face.
9 - minghao
he gets so soft and he would be so gentle with you. even if he'd been a hard dom earlier, he'll flip on a dime as soon as he notices you in subspace. the responsible dom in him comes out and he tries not to dwell on how cute you look because instead he's busy making sure you’re feeling comfortable and safe and loved, bringing you water and helping you calm down. he’d melt at your reaction, but in more of a protective way because he’s not gonna let anything happen to his baby. 
10 - wonwoo
he wouldn’t not be into it exactly, but he wouldn’t have as much of a big reaction as the other members. he’d mostly be proud of himself for being able to satisfy you so well, and he’d be ready to give you whatever else you asked for or what you needed. he knows what his job is and he does it well. he smiles when he thinks you're not looking or when you aren't paying attention and the sight of you makes him feel warm inside.
11 - woozi
he wouldn't melt so much as he would just be fond of you. he’d smile at you, let you rest on his lap and play with your hair until you come back to him. he's usually quiet, not making a lot of noise unless you ask him to, but when you tell him “thank you” he'll hum and blush a little to let you know he's listening and that he appreciates you.
12 - chan
he would love it when you go into your subspace, but at the same time i think he would get a little panicky. it’s a lot of responsibility to take care of you when you’re so vulnerable, and he would be so focused on that that he’d forget to think about his own feelings. he would still adore you and how cute you are, but it would be more at the back of his mind.
13 - vernon
quite honestly i don't think he'd even notice when you're in subspace. looking back later he might realize you were suddenly acting a little calmer and a little clingier, but he wouldn't treat you any differently than he normally does. he loves you and thinks you're cute all the time, why would he be any different now? he's just happy to be along for the ride, but he won't deny it feels good to be thanked, even if he thinks he hasn't really done much.
least
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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evilminji · 1 month
Text
You know what I would kill to see?
Nedzu, in the Zone.
He IS a registered Hero, after all. He probably gets calls for missions. Failing that, he's still legal allowed to intervene. Like, say, if some poor four year old were losing their shit? Got separated from their mommy, their headache, which has been getting Ochier ALL DAY has finally gotten Really REALLY bad... and they... they just CAN'T! So they melt down.
Whoops. Four year old with portals.
In a crowd.
Luckily he, Mr. Principle, is a "cute" looking sort of Hero. And as an educator, well trained in de-escala-*CRASH!* Some jackass glory chasing young thing, with no care for innocent lives around them, smashes onto the scene. Terrifying the poor child. Which obviously makes their non-existent control WORSE.
Starts throwing the word "villian" around.
Nedzu is going to EAT his license in front of him.
The poor thing is hyperventilating, crying, clinging desperately to Nedzus suit. Things are being flung from portals. Sucked into portals. He's seen no less then 53 SEPERATE dimensions on the other side of those rifts. At least two were to the open void of space.
He narrowly dodges a portal straight into the heart of a volcano. Can feel the blistering heat singe his fur. Alumni from HIS school, at least, have arrived to actually SAVE people. Get the crowd away from the danger zone.
And to think, all he wanted was some tea.
How this MORON doesn't recognize him, he has no idea. His graduates are actively SHOUTING his identity, for heavens sake. Yet the glory hound continues to chase his so called "villians" at the expense of everyone around him.
He's about to throw the boy to a near by police officer, to get to safety, when the worst occurs. The tract of land he was about to push off of disappears beneath them. The boy's mother screams. He activates High Specs, world slowing as his mind rushs. Twisting, he throws the boy high.
The portal closes before he can see if it is Eraserhead or Cementoss who will be the one to catch him. The odds were 68.3% in Eraserhead's favor. He hopes... Aizawa, does so take these things quite hard, he hope he will not blame himself.
There was no way to catch him in time.
He was already gone.
Gravity arrests, slowing to a drifting meander. The air thick with something the burns his sensitive nose. Green. Everything is a very peculiar green. This is not a planets or if it is, it is countless times larger then Earth. A gas giant of some sort? There does not appear to be a horizon.
In the distance, an almost stereotypical spaceship changes destinations. Now aiming right for him. It seems aid might be on the way. With nothing better to do, he waits. They slow to a stop, a hatch opens, and... oh? A young Hero student! Hello there young man! I am Mr. Principle of the illustrious UA!
And just? Danny? Trying to return this small furry alien guy back to his alien hero school? Getting the run around and "hmmmm, let me look that uuuup *takes forever* yeeeeah, soooorry. You're in the wrong department. You'll have to fly like three days to this OTHER department, fill out 260 forms, and dance for our amusement. Byeeeee~"
Like? He just wants to get this guy HOME! Why are you all LIKE THIS!?
All while Nedzu is " :) My, this is FASCINATING. I am learning new things, battling wits, learning new languages, AND guiding a promising young mind towards a future of Better Heroics? Delightful! This is practically a vacation!"
He even stops by the Fentons for dinner. Some fudge. A little light destruction of Goverment branches on the side. Just? A Grand ol adventure of Nedzu.
Danny suffers through bureaucratic hell. But Nedzu? The most mentally stimulated he's been in years. His crops are watered and his fur is groomed. Thriving! New toys!
Then?? He just... shows back up to work.
How did he return? Where has he been?? Who is this glowing green Hero Child groaning face down on his very expensive carpet? *sips tea* wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy! *maniacal Nedzu laughter*
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @spidori
518 notes · View notes
sinsofsummers · 10 months
Text
undone
2.2k | dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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summary: joel miller worships the day you showed up braless to his fourth of july party. warnings: smut (of course), 18+, mdni. no outbreak au, fourth of july party (forgive him he's from texas), joel's pov, he's a dumb bitch, masturbation (m), pervy!joel but not really, age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel in his early 40s), slight religious slander (not extreme by any means!). note: this is just me dipping my toes into the dbf!joel universe, lemme know what you think! zero editing basically, i'm so sorry, there will probably be more drabbles for this. also this is consolation for the dumb shit holiday that is independence day in the us. i hate it here.
He's anything but religious; he hasn't gone to church since he was a kid. And yet...Joel Miller worships the day you went braless to his Fourth of July party.
Even now, laid in his bed with his arm thrown carelessly across his face and his fist curled tightly around his cock, he's not sure he'll ever recover.
Muffled grunts fall from his lips with every strained tug, and he's sure it sounds something like prayer. Considering the fact that you're as close to heaven as he'll ever get, he'll call it a fair assessment. If it's sacrilege to jerk off to the thought of his best friend's daughter every night...so be it.
He's never been one with any type of remarkable memory, but he knows that the image of your perfect chest peeking at him through the thin thank you'd worn that day would stick with him forever.
You'd blinked up at him with a grin, a bowl of fresh fruit salad prepared to share with the rest of the guests in your hands. A strand of hair had fallen into your eyes and he'd had to fight against every urge and keep his hand down at his side.
What he really wanted to do was brush your hair from your eyes (ever the gentleman), and then replace the spot where his fingers would touch your forehead with his lips. He'd always wondered what your hair might smell like, what shampoo you used in the morning, and how your skin looked when the suds ran down your body, rinsed down the drain.
What he wouldn't give to be the suds running down your radiant skin, to touch every curve and crevice of your body, the spots that never see the light of day.
He hadn't seen you since you'd gone to college. Well, not for more than a few days over your Christmas break each year, and even then...he'd made sure to steer clear of you. Tried to ignore the way your smile made his own stutter, how your arms were always so soft around his neck when you gave him the occasional hug.
How your eyes had begun to linger, just enough to make his jaw clench and his cock twitch.
A strangled sigh fights its way out of his chest as he remembers the events of that fateful party, and just how he's ended up here, cock in hand, your scent in his head, and your name on his tongue.
"Jesus Christ," he murmured when you and your dad showed up with your dishes to pass. The backyard had been strewn with red, white, and blue decorations, the perfect image of a typical Texan backyard celebration for Independence Day.
He'd been unable to hide his groan at the way the bright colors practically bled into his skull, but there was no other way to have a Fourth of July party, apparently. Of course, this was really just for tradition, and...well, his younger brother Tommy would have had his head if there weren't at least a few American flag streamers.
Your little white tank had already begun to cling to your skin in the Texas heat, the straps thin. Before he knew it, he was hoping that the sun would do him a favor and kiss your skin where he wished he could. That it might form those pretty little lines along your shoulders and give a warm glow to your face, evidence of your presence at his house, at his party, drinking his beer.
"Drunk already?" your dad's voice roused him from his momentary lapse in judgment and then Joel was getting tugged into a firm handshake and a clapped hand on his shoulder.
He tore his eyes from you and hoped that the pink in his cheeks (that was definitely there) could be mistaken for a quickly setting sunburn. He didn't want to think of what you might take his blush for if you noticed.
He chuckled, shaking his head and returning the handshake. “Hell no,” he answered hastily, “just gettin’ hungry for that fruit salad, man.” And the angel holding it. “Need a hand?” he asked you, forcing his eyes not to wander from yours.
Fuck. Your eyes were extra bright today, with the sun seemingly lighting them from the insides. And those cheeks? Already pink and sunkissed, just how he’d hoped they would be. He might have offered you some sunblock if he’d thought it was appropriate. Might have offered to help you spread it onto your smooth skin if he’d thought that was appropriate.
Of course, he’d be condemned to the darkest circle of hell if he let those thoughts run wild. So he trained his eyes on yours and waited for your response.
You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ear. You squinted into the sun, an action that forced one eye closed, as if you were winking at him. “I’ve got it,” you said casually, “can I put it inside for now?” You adjusted your hold on the fruit salad, making your breasts shift under your shirt.
Joel nodded—fuck’s sake, he thought with the movement of your chest—and tilted his head toward the back door that led to the kitchen. “Go for it, Sarah’s already in there.”
Your dad had been called away by Tommy, so Joel was left in your quiet company. He watched your smile widen at the mention of his daughter’s name and felt his heart twinge. You were just a few years older than his daughter, and here he was, not only willing his cock to settle down at the sight of your nipples pressing against the cloth of your shirt, but also wishing that your smile widened at the mention of his name. 
Joel wasn’t quite sure what happened in the subsequent minute or how he moved so quickly. Before he knew it, you’d stepped closer to him and he’d stepped to the side, except he was really just getting in your way, and your eyes were widening in surprise, and then the bowl of fruit salad was shuffling in your grip and he was stumbling to get back out of your way and then—
“Shit,” you mumbled a curse. The juice from the contents of the bowl—mostly watermelon juice, it looked like—had splashed up onto your shirt, seeping through the white fabric and painting your chest a pale pink. You looked up, a careless smile replacing the distracted look on your face. “Don’t worry about it, Mr. M, really. I was gonna have to wash this shirt tonight anyway.”
“I—uh, I didn’t mean to,” was all he could come up with, and he could feel his face heating once more at the look on your face. “Shirt’s ruined. I’m sorry darlin’,” he mumbled—was the temperature increasing by the second?—and pretended not to notice the way your shirt clung even tighter to your chest. It was like a damn wet t-shirt contest, the way the darker shade of your nipples began to peek through the soiled fabric at him. He blinked and looked away, trying to ignore the way your smile had turned into a smirk. Have you caught him? 
You shrugged and passed the bowl to him. “No, it’s not,” you reassured him with a breathless chuckle. “I’m sure Sarah’s got a shirt or two I can wear.”
He’d been left standing with the bowl of your fruit salad as you’d trekked into the house, presumably to do as you’d said. When you came out just a few minutes later, he’d been talking to your dad and a few of the other neighbors that had come over. He’d almost completely forgotten about the incident, until you were there again, standing in front of him. 
In his shirt.
“Uh,” he said dumbly, not sure whether you knew whose shirt you were wearing, or if you’d gone into the wrong laundry pile.
You picked at the hem of the shirt, and he traced the lines of your long fingers with his eyes, practically seeing your sweet scent sink into the fabric. He hoped you could smell his cologne lingering on the collar as it licked against the soft skin of your neck. “Sarah found this in her closet,” you explained, “she said it was one of her sleep shirts.” You flitted your gaze to him, and he caught a glimmer of amusement in the depths of your eyes. “Smells kind of…”
Like me. He shivered despite the heat and tapped his finger on his hip to calm himself down. It smells like me, and now you’re gonna smell like me, angel.
“Like men’s cologne,” you finished with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure Sarah’s not bringing home any guys you don’t know about, Mr. Miller?”
He cocked an eyebrow and bit back a cutting remark. “‘Course not,” he said smoothly, “they’d never get past the front door.”
It was all he could do not to tug you onto his lap with his shirt hanging past your hips, giving the illusion that you weren’t wearing any shorts beneath it. Fuck, he had to get away from your father before he did anything he regretted. “Need another drink, anyone?” he offered, shifting his weight away from you in a failed attempt to get the thoughts out of his mind.
The others shook their heads, but you nodded. “I’ll get another, actually,” you said simply. And then he was stuck with you, his fingers itching to lift that shirt from your body and reveal that warm skin to his desperate mind.
The kitchen was empty—a small blessing—and Joel fished through the fridge for another beer. Handing one to you, he cherished the way your fingers brushed his as you pulled it from his grasp, the droplets of condensation running down the bottle like he knew the sweat was running down his back at the thoughts that swam through his mind.
“S’my shirt, you know,” he grumbled softly, not quite sure why he’d said it. Maybe it was to gauge what your reaction would be. Maybe he already hoped that you’d smile at the thought.
You looked down at the shirt, cheeks reddening. “It is?” you said quietly, the surprise unraveling in your voice. “I’m sorry, I can get another one—”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, s’okay. Looks better on you than it does on me, anyway.”
“Oh.” Just one word, but he noticed the way your legs wobbled at the same time. The way the bottle slipped just a centimeter in your hand.
Gotcha, he smirked inwardly. 
Days have gone by, and he still thinks about that blush in your cheeks every night. He can’t help it when you just look so angelic in the shirt of a sinner like him. 
Joel’s hand squeezes his cock for all its worth as he strokes himself languidly, faint mumbles beginning to fall from his lips like the verses of a damn hymn. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he groans in the darkness of his room, feeling the pressure build in his body. With every muscle in his chest tensing, he lets a broken sigh escape his throat as he spills his hot seed into his hand, the picture of your face embedded in his mind’s eye. Laying there for a moment, he catches his breath as oxygen raggedly pushes itself in and out of his lungs.
And then he hears it. A knock. The front door, it sounds like.
He hastily cleans himself up, but the faint feeling of stickiness remains on his hand as he traipses down the stairs in the dark, wondering just who the hell would be knocking on his door so late at night. 
When he opens the door, he’s not exactly expecting to see the face he’d just come on his hand to. 
“Hey,” he chokes out, hiding his hand behind his back as if you might be able to see the evidence of sacrilege on his skin. He’s afraid you’ll be able to decipher the sweat on his forehead for the sinful act that it had come from just moments ago. “What’s up?”
“Oh!” you sound surprised at his answering the door, a fact that makes him smirk. “I’m just…I’m just here to return Sarah’s shirt,” you explain hastily. 
There it is, hanging from your loose grip, waiting for him to take it. “You mean mine,” he corrects gently, his grin widening as he feeds his hand up the frame of the door, hovering over you close enough that he can see your pupils widen and pulse at the proximity of his chest to yours.
Your mouth hangs open, just enough that he thinks about pushing his thumb in between your lips, up to the first knuckle. His mind goes wild at the thought of how warm and soft and wet your mouth would be around his fingers. How perfect it would be around even more.
He shoves the thoughts away as you nod. “Yeah,” you say with a breathless chuckle. “Yours, I mean. I don’t need it anymore, though. So…” your eyes drop to the shirt between you, your words trailing off.
Joel shakes his head. “Don’t need it back,” he says warmly. “Not yet, anyway. Keep it.”
You blink. “What?”
He shrugs, the thought of you wearing it more than once lighting his mind on fire. “Keep it for now. I’ll come to collect it some other time. No reason to return it in the dead of night, doll.”
Fuck. The nickname had slipped. 
But based on the way your lips curl at the corners, he’s dodged a bullet. “Okay,” you say softly, and he swears he can see the moon reflected in your eyes. “Just for a little longer, then.”
He nods and says goodnight, closing the door only when he can see that you’ve made it back to your house next door safely. The door shuts with a soft click, and he grins to himself. 
To hell with the shirt. Doesn’t matter to him. He’ll get it back eventually. And when he does, he plans to have it smell like you.
this ending was so rushed ahhhh i have to go to work!!! bye!!!! ty for reading and all the love!!!!
tagging here cause i have to goooo to workkkkk!!!
@mingiast @iluvurfather @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @thetriumphantpanda @morning-star-joy @sofiparallel @elegantduckturtle @evyiione @bitchwitch1981 @disassociation-daydreams @mrsquill @littlemisssluttyknee @papipascalispunk @mumma-moonchild @marchai @mlodanatka @xdaddysprincessxx @bongsrconfusing @tlouadditc @dinsdjrn @alejaa-a @daysilva2 @worhols @jellybeanxc @struig @cherryreddarbiter
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demonpiratehuntress · 4 months
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Y/n is a nice young woman and head over heels in love with her boyfriend Ace. Of course he too. But there is this girl on the ship, cute, lovely, accommodating and everything that makes a "cute girl". Everyone likes her and Y/n likes her too, until she starts getting closer to Ace. Like, unexpectedly hugging him from behind, clinging to his arm, giving him a slap on the bottom, jumping up to him like she hadn't seen him in forever. She's really attached to him and even after you very politely expressed that you didn't like it and neither did Ace. But after a short while she continues, whether in front of you or the crew. And at some point Y/n's patience breaks and she literally drags her away from him by her hair. No one ever expected that she could be so aggressive, insulting the girl with the most disgusting words y/n could think of. How does Ace react to this?[I'm soo sorry, it's so long😶‍🌫️ Hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable😵‍💫]
No worries! I actually really like this idea, so I hope you like this answer!
back off
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - the ask above, you don't like the new recruit when she gets too close to your boyfriend
warnings - swearing, violence from you at the end
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Ace was too nice. You knew that, he knew that, everyone knew that. He was way too nice and you always told him one day that would get him into trouble. You just didn't know that 'one day' would come so soon.
She was nice at first. Sweet, friendly, helpful. You liked having another woman around, because it gave you a break from the rowdiness of the men. She was great to talk to, and for a while was a good listener and a confidant you trusted. You had no idea where Marco had found her, but she'd apparently wanted to become a pirate so he brought her and Whitebeard allowed her to join, thinking it would be good for you. And it was.
For a while.
You started noticing her shift in behaviour when the crew stopped by an island to take a break and just relax, and you'd suggested hitting the beach with her.
"Will Ace be coming?" She asked, trying to mask the excitement in her voice but clearly failing.
You raised an eyebrow, "He's my boyfriend, so probably. He's clingy."
"That's so cute!"
You smiled, ignoring her wistful expression, "It is. He is."
Ace did join you not long after, surprising you by running up to you from behind and lifting you off your feet. You squealed in surprise and laughed, before your eyes widened when you saw the water getting closer and closer.
"Babe, no!"
"Yes," he answered happily, and you just knew he was grinning like the little devil he was.
Then you felt nothing but cold water, and when you resurfaced you gasped for air before shooting the cackling commander a death glare.
"Ace!"
"Sorry, babe, I had to!"
You laughed and shook your head, before witnessing one of the most uncomfortable and infuriating sights you'd ever seen. (Other Name) ran up to your boyfriend, jumped onto his back and locked her legs around his waist. She giggled innocently like that was a totally normal thing to do, telling him that friends gave each other piggyback rides sometimes.
You weren't so sure she saw him as a friend, but you grit your teeth and sucked it up anyway, not wanting to ruin the mood. Ace was confused, and also uncomfortable because he didn't really like anyone but you doing that to him, but he also said nothing. But for him, it was just because he was too sweet to speak out.
At dinner it was even worse.
She shoved herself between you and Ace, running her hand along his arm as she smiled and rambled on about something you weren't listening to.
"(Other Name)," you tried to stay calm, forcing a smile, "Ace and I were talking. Could you please move?"
"Oh, sorry!" She smiled at you, but didn't seem very sorry. Then she had the nerve to get up, move around your boyfriend, and force herself between Marco and Ace.
You grit your teeth again, but said nothing. Everyone was having fun. No need to ruin it with your anger, right? Besides, she knew he was yours, right? He knew that too. You trusted him.
You just didn't trust her...
Afterwards, Ace noticed your sour mood as you both walked to your shared room. He slid his hand into yours and squeezed it, looking at you worriedly.
"You okay babe?"
"I'm fine," you glared ahead. "Nothing's wrong."
He frowned, "But-"
You whirled on him when you were both in the room, "Why aren't you stopping her? I know you're nice, Ace, but there are limits."
His eyes widened, "Babe-"
"No, you're not even trying to tell her to stop! You always look uncomfortable, but you won't ever tell her to go away and stop it! Do you really have that little respect for our relationship?!" As soon as you said it, you regretted it. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"I know," he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you, "I'm sorry. I know I'm too nice to say no. I promise I'll work on it." He kissed the top of your head. "I know she's bothering you, and she's bothering me too. So tomorrow, I'll tell her to stop, okay?"
"Okay," you whispered, smiling softly and burying your face in his neck.
The next morning, he did actually speak to her about it. He told her that she was making you both uncomfortable and that she needed to stop because he was already taken.
Her response?
She waited a few days, only to ramp up her inappropriate and infuriating behaviour.
"Hi Ace!" She greeted him at lunch one day with a smack to his rear.
That's when the atmosphere changed. The crew became nervous, knowing just how you might react to that. You had stopped walking, your eyes narrowing at the brave - and apparently stupid - girl, fury like no other building up inside. You were about to blow.
What the crew expected to happen, was far from what actually happened.
You stormed over to her and grabbed her by her hair, yanking hard to get her away from a stunned Ace. No one moved as you dragged her by her hair to the side of the ship.
"Do you know what 'no' means, you hairbrained little bitch?" You snarled, shoving her against the railing. You pulled her hair a little harder, and she yelped in pain. "Do you know what 'stay away from my boyfriend' means, or do I have to fucking beat it into you?"
The entire crew was silent, some watching in awe, others watching in terror. Ace felt a little bit of both, none of them had ever seen you like this but it was so incredibly hot he didn't want to stop you. It was sweet that you were fighting in his honour, but it was also so so sexy, and his mind was already drifting.
"Look at you, so pathetic and stupid, whining like a little baby," you sneered, unable to stop because all of this had just been building up. "Not so bubbly and sweet now, are you? Maybe this'll teach you to grope other women's boyfriends!" You pulled harder and she whimpered. "Such a whiny little thing. Won't miss you here." Then, casually, you threw her overboard into the ocean.
That's when everyone remembered how to move, and almost all of them rushed over to see (Other Name) flailing around in the water below. You turned and walked away, seething but trying to calm down.
Immediately Ace was on you, gripping your waist and pressing heated kisses to any part of you that his lips could reach. He kissed along your neck, along your shoulders, along your jawline...anything to show just how hot your outburst had been to him.
"That was so, so sexy babe," he was muttering as he kissed you. "You're so unbelievably hot. Can't believe you're all mine. Damn."
You blushed furiously, already over your little outburst. She was forgotten, your mind only on Ace and the kisses he was drowning you in. Then you gasped and laughed when he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, marching you to the bedroom.
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azurexxstrawberries · 6 months
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TBHK men getting nightmares about s/o
how i think tbhk men would react to having nightmares about their s/o!
established relationship, fluff(?), headcannons
My Masterlists
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Hanako
(do ghosts even sleep in the first place? ...let's just pretend they do for a sec)
he had a dream, where you left him for being a murderer.
he desperately begged for you to come back, clutching onto your clothes, tears welled up in his eyes.
but you just turned away, and continued walking.
he woke up, a cracked cry leaving his throat.
he realized it was a dream pretty quickly, but it still felt so real in that moment.
feeling a faint resemblance of a heart beating hard in his chest, he went looking for you, making sure that what he saw in his nightmare wasn't real.
he finds you curled up underneath a bundle of blankets in your bed.
he puts his cold fingers on your face, making sure that it was actually you, right there, in that moment.
...
you woke up in the morning, feeling a heavy weight on your arm.
hanako had been clinging onto you for the past few hours, making sure you didn't escape from his grasp.
he had a small put on his face, and seeing that you woke up, he pulled you closer to him and pout his face in your chest, blushing slightly.
"Thank you for being with me."
Kou Minamoto
kou had a dream where you had died from a supernatural because he wasn't strong enough to protect you.
he watched you being torn, screaming, because of his incompetence.
he shot straight upright in his bed, and after recognizing the familiar surroundings, he lowered himself back into the comfort of his blankets.
bundled up, he tossed and turned in the sheets for a while, heart racing out of his chest.
poor guy had the whole scene replaying in his mind over and over again :(
after the heavy feeling in his chest got too much for him to bear, he got out of bed and walked to the kitchen to drink a glass of water to cool him down.
kou would probably have too much pride to show up at your door about a nightmare.
so he just sat down at his couch, scrolling through the tv trying to find something to help him wind down.
oh, but he would definitely stick to you aalllllllllllll day during school.
"You wouldn't die on me, right?"
Sousuke Mitsuba
his dream was about his death. everything, from the beginning to the end. the excruciating pain, to the heartbreak of seeing his mom kneeling over his hospital bed.
and then there was you.
his only ever friend.
and slowly, you forgot about him.
you went on about life, as if he had never existed.
and that hurt more than being run over 1000 times with a car.
he slowly blinked himself awake, bringing his trembling hands to his face to wipe the tears out of his eyes.
looking forward, he saw you under the delicate moonlight, sleeping soundly.
he caressed your cheek, feeling more tears well up in his eyes, thinking about the fact that you would stay with him, even with all his imperfections.
the fact that he could be himself around you.
the fact that you chose him over anyone else.
...
you slowly woke up to the sound of faint crying.
mitsuba, seeing that you had woken up, began crying even harder, embarrassed.
the rest of the night was spent with him in your arms as you stroked his hair gently, offering words of encouragement.
"I'd miss you if you died."
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THANK YOU FOR READING!!! i hope you enjoyed it! im not really experienced, so feedback is appreciated! im not really experienced with writing for tumblr, so i hope this turned out ok! i learned most of my stuff from reading other posts lol id be forever grateful if you left a like!! id be really happy to know someone enjoyed my work :3
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devildom-moss · 7 months
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The demon brothers reacting to an MC who hides their burn marks headcanon
The demon brothers version of a previous request for the dateables + Luke reacting to an MC who has burn marks all over their arms/legs and avoids wearing revealing clothes because they're self conscious about it. I hope this one is okay. Please ignore how much my tenses shift - hopefully it reads fine. Also why is it that usually when I do another version of a previous post, it gets longer. Why am I like this?
requested by: @justalurkerheretolurk
(slightly suggestive for some of the brothers)
Word Count: +2,400
Lucifer
For once, his approach is that it’s none of his business. He doesn’t wear revealing clothes himself, so it takes him forever to notice that you have self-esteem reasons for hiding your body.
He might sense some of your discomfort when someone suggests that you should wear more revealing clothing (Asmo), but he doesn’t make much of it. If you don’t want to talk to him about it, he won’t question you (unless you seem really upset).
Lucifer doesn’t find out unless your sleeve accidentally slips too far up your arms or until one of those shared outdoor bath/hot spring trips. He’ll get suspicious if you aren’t willing to join him in the baths despite his efforts to tempt you. Basically, he’s not going to question you trying to keep covered until he’s trying to get in your pants.
The second he finds out, he’ll be speechless for a moment – to the point that it worries you. Is it really so bad that he can’t say anything?  
Side headcanon: I think he gets it. He’s probably scarred up from the Celestial War. There are parts of his body that scratch away at his pride sometimes. He wants to ask about it, but he can’t bring himself to do it.
It’s not disgust or shock that shuts him up, it’s shame – and under that, affection. He’s ashamed that you didn’t feel you could show him until now, ashamed that he never questioned you before or didn’t notice, and ashamed that he let someone he cherishes so dearly feel self-conscious without him knowing. He wants to choose his words carefully – lace together something that would make you feel better – but all he can do is take hold of your arm and ask you if you had been hiding those marks the entire time.
He’ll almost sound scary, but his eyes will look so desperate. Lucifer will beg you not to hide your body – not from him. (He’ll even say please.) You don’t have to show anyone else (in fact, he’d prefer if he was the only one), but you have nothing to be embarrassed about around him. He wants to see everything.
He’ll pull out the bedroom eyes and tell you, “I mean it. Let me prove it.”
Mammon
He probably sees your marks because he walks in on you changing. Man does not believe in knocking. You should be grateful to get a visit from the Great Mammon.
He’s almost too embarrassed to notice the burns at first. His brain lags, and then it hits him like – well, like Lucifer when Mammon’s racked up a huge debt on his card again. His eyes widen, and he shuts the door behind him.
“What happened to ya?” he asks frantically, running up to you. However, his tone doesn’t match the gentle touch he has when his hand slides over your marks. Even if you’ve already covered up, he’ll caress you over your clothes. The location of your scars is burned into his mind. The next words leave him in a softer, somber tone, like some wounded child, “when’d ya get hurt?”
In Mammon’s mind, if he can figure out why, how, and when, maybe he can do something to help you. Whether you feel comfortable enough to tell him or not, he won’t press you too much.
He’s hurt that you didn’t let him know sooner – that he only found out now. He’s always clinging to you, so how is that even possible?
“Hey. Is that why yer always covered up?” He noticed that you avoided revealing clothes, but he thought maybe you were like Lucifer. Mammon didn’t want to make you self-conscious about it, so he never brought it up before. When you agree, he feels as if his chest has been stabbed by dozens of long upholstery needles.
With the softest, saddest smile, he tells you, “ya don’t have to hide nothin’ from me, y’know?”
He’d pull you into a hug, and even though he was too shy to manage more than a whisper, he’d say, “listen close. The Great Mammon ain’t a fan of repeatin’ himself, but I think ya look fine. I mean, ya shine more beautifully than any precious metal, my treasure.”
Mammon will probably ask you to show him more of your body when you’re alone. Of course he wants to see more, he’s the avatar of greed, after all.
Leviathan
You can’t convince me that this man won’t try to get you to wear revealing cosplay at some point. Levi’s too embarrassed to ask you to wear something skimpy himself, but if it’s for cosplay, maybe you’d go along with it.
He doesn’t even warn you that it’s revealing as he hands it to you, practically begging you to try it on for him. If you refuse, he won’t hesitate to drop to his knees and grovel. “Please? It’ll be so moe. Please? Pleeeaassse?”
There’s instant regret when he finds out why you were so reluctant – whether you decide to just tell him or change into the clothes and show him. His stomach will drop, and his eyes will widen. He feels terrible for making you reveal that information, possibly far sooner than you wanted to.
His mind will flood with self-criticism, but he knows that this moment isn’t about him, so he pushes his own shame back down. Levi knows what it’s like to feel self-conscious, and he wants to help, but he doesn’t know where to start.
“I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but I like how you look. You’re my IRL fav.”
If you let him, he’ll pull you into his tub while in his demon form, wrap his tail around you, and hold you. You can game or watch anime – anything to help you feel better.
Levi doesn’t know how to go about comforting you, and it’s embarrassing for him to tell you how gorgeous he thinks you are, but he’ll try, and he’ll keep asking you to cosplay for him (especially the revealing stuff). If you just want to hang out in his room while wearing revealing clothing, he’s happy with that – even if he gets so horny shy that he feels like he’s going to die.
He’s another one who would prefer it if you only wore revealing clothes around him. If anyone else got to see that much of you, he’d be jealous. A more selfish part of him would also prefer it if he was the only one who knew about your marks. You’re his Henry. You’re his best friend. You don’t need to be that vulnerable with anyone else as long as you have him.
Satan
Satan is likely to find out on accident: a sleeve falling down too far or something kind of ridiculous like getting caught in a downpour while wearing a white shirt.
The rage boils up in the pit of his stomach when he sees your marks, but he isn’t sure who to be mad at because he doesn’t have any of the information. Maybe he’s just mad at the world for having hurt you.
When Satan notices your embarrassment at being caught, he calms himself. He’ll ask if it ever hurts you, and then he’ll ask to touch you. If you agree, his touch will be delicate – as if he expects you to break.
Without much warning, though, he’ll wrap his arms around you. He’ll tell you that it’s okay to be self-conscious. If you’re comfortable, you can show as much or as little skin as you want. He’ll love you all the same. You could swear that you felt a teardrop hit your shoulder as he hugged you, but when he finally pulled away, his eyes were clear.
Satan brings up that he’s heard that cats’ purring could be healing. Maybe you could get a cat to sit on you and purr? In part, he’s using this as an excuse to invite you on a cat café date.
He encourages you to try more revealing clothes around him. When you’re alone, he’ll get clingier. He strikes me as a kiss-the-scars kind of guy.
Asmodeus
Asmo loves to treat you like his little dress-up doll. He’s not blind, and he’s noticed how often you’re covering yourself up. Usually, when he dresses you up, he tries to keep your comfort levels in mind, giving you clothes that would flatter you while still covering parts of your body that you may be trying to hide – whether or not he understands why.
But eventually, Asmo is going to want to push you out of that comfort zone. While you’re out shopping one day, he’ll grab something a bit more revealing (probably a sheer-sleeve shirt) and put it into the pile. You might not even notice until you’re in the changing room.
You’d put off trying it on, modeling every other shirt in the bunch for Asmo. Maybe he would forget the revealing one, but he didn’t. After an approving nod from him on the second-to-last option, Asmo would knowingly add, “one more, gorgeous.”
“Asmo, I can’t wear this,” you’d tell him as you buttoned the shirt up. It was just as you feared: your scars were visible. Asmo sighed; he figured you might be hesitant. “Can I at least come in and see? Pretty please?”
It’s hard to say no to Asmo; you could imagine the pout on his lips. When you unlocked the door, he quickly snuck in. He noticed immediately as he appraised you. A soft, solemn “oh” left his lips. It all made sense now.
The insecurity started to build, but Asmo was quick to squash it. He took your face in his hands and reassured you. “Darling, you look absolutely beautiful.”
Asmo will constantly tell you how lovely, pretty, and cute you are. Yes, that absolutely includes the marks. They don’t take a single bit of beauty away from you. He’s the most gorgeous creature in the Devildom, after all, so he would know.
Asmo is delicate with his approach to encouraging you to wear more revealing clothes, suggesting outfits that show just a bit more and staying aware of your comfort levels. He’ll never push you to wear anything revealing in front of anyone except him if you aren’t comfortable, but he can be a bit pushy about letting him see more of you. He won’t judge, so just trust yourself with him.
He doesn’t really think about how it happened; all he knows is that it makes you feel self-conscious now, and that’s something he can try to do something about.
Will probably try to flirt and tell you that if you ever want to show him everything, he’ll make sure you don’t regret it.
Beelzebub
Beel notices something is off when you show up in sweats to work out with him and never take them off. It’s hot. He’s five seconds away from taking off his shirt. How are you even alive?
“Seriously, you need to change. You’re going to pass out.”
“I’m fine,” you insist. Worried, Beel will insist that you call it a day. He’ll offer to take you out for food once you’re both washed up and changed.
The next time he gets you alone in his room or yours, he brings it up again. He’s nervous and worried, with his hands clasped awkwardly in front of his heart, as he asks why you don’t wear shorts or tank tops – even when you’d probably be more comfortable.
When you tell him (or even show him), Beel’s shoulders slump. It makes sense now. He feels bad – because you were hurt, because he feels like he pressured you to tell him, because you’ve been hiding it the whole time, because you feel bad about your marks.
He doesn’t know what to say. Instead, Beel engulfs you in his arms. His grip is gentle, barely touching you as he asks you if the burn scars hurt. If you’re not in pain, he’ll hold you tighter. He wants to comfort you, but nothing feels like it’ll be enough, so he just holds you quietly for a long time.
Eventually, the only words that hold any weight in his mind escape him in a low tone.
“I love you. I think you’re beautiful.”
After he finds out, Beel goes out of his way to tell you how handsome and beautiful you are more often. He assumed you knew how he felt before, but he doesn’t want to leave any room for doubt now.
Belphegor
I feel like Belphie is the one person who is more likely to discover your marks through touch. He’s very clingy and touchy and a bit of a perv, so I could see him just noticing something about the texture of your skin through your clothes. He’s so used to pressing himself firmly against you, and if you are prone to pain or irritation from that, he’ll notice your reactions, too.
He also strikes me as someone who slips his cold hands into your clothes. Especially if your shirt is tucked in, he has no problem just slipping his hands up your sleeves.
Unfortunately, he won’t consider that he may be bringing up a sensitive topic for you when he almost immediately questions you. (If he’s exhausted, he may wait until after a nap to ask you.) On the bright side, because the others usually bug him about cuddling you, your chances of it happening when you’re alone are pretty high.
Belphie feels bad when you tell him that he touched your scars/burn marks and that you had been trying to keep them covered up because it’s embarrassing – especially if you tell him that you’re worried about how other people look at you. Your shame ignites a fire in him, and he launches into an irritated rant.
“Who gives a fuck about what other people think about how you look? There’s nothing inherently wrong with it, really. Maybe it’s fucked up how it happened. I don’t know, and you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but they’re just marks now. It’s just a part of your body. And I like your body. I liked it before I knew they were there, and my feelings haven’t changed now that I know. You’re still my favorite cuddle buddy.”
He’ll pull you against him and stroke your hair with an indignant blush staining his cheeks.
“If anyone ever makes you feel bad, tell me. You’ll never hear another cruel word from them after that. No one hurts my precious human pillow.” Except for him that one time.
(the dateables + Luke version)
A/N: Hopefully these came out alright. I'm such a sucker for comfort stuff, which is why I took this request even though my requests aren't technically open right now. Can y'all tell who I loved writing for on this prompt the most?
Also, I'm over here wishing September had another day so I could finish the September poll story without rushing it. If it's a day late, I'm sorry! I'll be preoccupied for most of tomorrow, and I have to drive a lot so I can't skip out on sleep tonight. Putting the pro in procrastination. I don't even know what to put on the poll for October, either. My brain is just soup right now. screaming Anyway, I do have something planned for October that hopefully you'll all find enjoyable. Okay, I'm going to shut up now.
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bellamybellamyblake · 3 months
Text
Violet Eyes, Red
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Pairing:
rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)
Summary:
you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.
Warnings:
aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.
Word Count:
2,140
A/N:
literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected
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The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.
You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.
One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.
Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.
Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.
He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.
At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.
But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.
And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.
It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.
I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it. 
He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.
Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.
You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.
You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster? 
You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.
Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.
With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.
In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.
His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe. 
He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."
"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."
You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"
"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."
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Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.
You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.
He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.
"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."
"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."
"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."
You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."
He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."
His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"
"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"
"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."
You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.
Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."
He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.
He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.
How he had been praying for you.
With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say. 
Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.
"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."
"But I-"
"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."
"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"
You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."
His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.
"Is it?"
222 notes · View notes
shipmanisms · 3 months
Text
valentine's day with the yjs ୧ 💌 ୨
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cw: pretty much just fluff !!! may have swear words included tho ??
a/n: made this for me and everyone else who's single on valentine's day too :l hope this make you all feel a lil better and ily mwah mwah, happy ( early ) valentine's day babes <3
NATALIE SCATORCCIO
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- pretends she hates valentines day and everything that has to do it but deep down she adores it
- will stand awkwardly looking at the different kind of chocolates and sweets and being like "uhmmmm.....reeses are never a bad option i guess?" ALSO I FEEL LIKE she'd ask other people buying stuff for their partners what they're gonna get them cuz she's so confused 😭
- we all know she's a sucker for kisses, cuddles, holding hands, AAAANYTHING that has to do with physical touch but hates showing it so i think she'd use valentine's day as an excuse to be publicly affectionate a bit
- ok that's all i might add more later on
JACKIE TAYLOR
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- she's OBSESSED with holidays and celebrations, whether it's valentine's day, christmas, anything
- waking you up at like 7am and being like "hi hi valentine hey you're my valentine it's time to wake up my valentine" while shaking you and smooching you all over
- she's never letting go of you on vday. always clinging by your side, holding your other hand while you're brushing your teeth, talking to you from outside of the door while you're on the toilet, hugging you by the waist when you're cooking
- wearing ridiculous matching outfits with her in PUBLIC. i feel like she'd have those shirts that say "their queen" AND YOU "her king/queen/monarch(☠️)" OR GETTING YOU THOSE SILLY LIL HEADBANDS THINGIES WITH THE JIGGLY HEARTS..
- knows exactly what to buy you and she's already gotten everything prepared😭 it's adorable cause she'll give you a gift of something you forgot you wanted and you're just sitting there standing like :O
SHAUNA SHIPMAN
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- ditches you for jackie. end.
- JK. i think she'd just treat it like a regular day honestly
- gets you a chocolate and calls it a day but not in a bad way??? LIKE she already loves you and does a lot of things to show it so she doesn't really think valentine's day is necessary
LOTTIE MATTHEWS
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- she's suuuuuuuuch a softie for showing you off and getting to shower you with gifts :(
- she wouldn't wanna go out too much, she'd probably have everything set out already. your gifts hiding in the closet, your sweets hidden in the fridge, everything prepared and on point
- i feel like since some of the yjs were mean to her and telling her to just stop talking and stuff, she'd be kinda closed off at the start and she'd be scared to show you how much she loves and adores you, but then when she sees that you accept and give her the same love back and even more she's SOOOO hyper
- writes you cheesy letters that you keep in your drawer forever and probably even little drawings of your favourite things or you and her 😭
VAN PALMER
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- THE SILLY!!!!!MAI SILLY!!!DE SILLY!!!:DD
- arcade dates w them on valentine's day or going like on an amusement park☝️☝️
- they'd go print out some silly t-shirts for y'all... like "i love my van" with a picture of a van LMAOO and they'd make you wear it all the time
- if you want to do smth on that day, you BET you will. they'll never let you down i SWEAR they're the sweetest pookiest babiest to ever exist :(((((((((
TAISSA TURNER
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- hates valentine's day more than anything... "what the fuck im NOT wearing that" when you ask her to match outfits with you but does it anyway
- she's miserable doing anything on valentine's day cause she thinks it's cringe but warms up to it when she sees how happy it makes you
- she's the girl that said "happy wife happy life" btw so she'll do anything u ask her to no matter how much she despises it which is.. a lot probably
- gets you a chocolate and takes 2 hours to decide if she should write you a corny letter with it and she scribbles down some ideas but then just puts :)
LAURA LEE
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- as a christian we shouldn't be celebrating vday but im not really that religious so????
- but laura lee is so anyways she would be all like "im not going to sin, i don't want to disappoint my lord" 😭😭😭
- she'd still go on a date w you, well more like flower picking and stuff and she'd probably pull out the the bible and start reading to you but you love her too much to say no so you just listen
- ok yeah that's it end of post mwah mwah
191 notes · View notes
bippot · 2 months
Note
Oooo an idea came to me!!
If it’s okay, can I please request an Adrian Chase x fem!innocent civilian!reader where Adrian finds out a girl has been kidnapped, and he goes to find and save her during his Vigilante rounds. He barges into where she’s being held, kills every single person in the room besides a terrified and shaking Y/n, and then he frees her and is just like, (gleefully) “Okay! You’re free to go!!😊😊”, and honestly Y/n is still terrified and in shock, and is just clinging to him with wide eyes. I think he wouldn’t fully understand what’s wrong with her, not understanding why she’s so shaken up and isn’t all excited about him saving her (poor girl is too much in shock from what happened to her and also it was traumatic seeing Vig taking out all the bad guys😅), so he brings her to the 11th Street Kids HQ, carrying her in like, “Hey guys!! I saved this girl and she’s all frozen and I don’t know why??” John would probably be like, “Dude?? She’s in shock” and he’d be like, “Oh🤔”. Anyways, the team take care of her wounds, and let her stay and heal. Adrian takes the most care of her, much to the surprise of the team, and he’s just super gentle with her and she feels super safe with him🥺
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Summary: Had Vigilante intended to find the missing Mayor's daughter? No, but he wasn't going to admit that. He'd completed the 11th Street Kids' mission entirely by himself and found himself caring for the kidnapped girl.
Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Caretaking, Fluff, Sleepovers, First Meetings, Minor Injuries
(Peacemaker taglist: @kpopgirlbtssvt , @adriansboyfriend)
Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here
Y/N had no idea where she was. She didn't know how she got here. Nor what day it was. She was just somewhere, completely alone and still in her work clothes - surely that meant she was taken either on her way to her job or coming from there - and she couldn't remember anything relating to how or why she was kidnapped.
There was a blip. An unnatural one. Why didn't she have that in her memory? Was it traumatic and her brain was protecting her by drawing a blank, and would probing further cause some sort of breakdown that she'd never return from? Or had she come into contact with someone or some sort of gas or drugs that had the ability to wipe her brain?
Had she been kidnapped by Will Smith and the rest of the Men in Black? She had no way of knowing.
It was cold and dark and quiet. Nobody had come to check if she was still alive or provided food. All Y/N could do was huddle with her knees tucked into her chest and hope that something was going to happen, even the slightest noise that would help piece something - anything, anything at all - together.
Who knows how she waited, how long she shivered until a noise happened. A loud bang rang out then something or someone hit the ground. Then it happened again. And again. And again. Each time louder, more solid, closer.
A loud screeching sound came next as a door swung open and finally let some light in through the narrow doorway. It was enough for Y/N to make out one figure moving through the door frame. It was a faceless man, though she only assumed that it was a man by the grunt he let out when his toe caught a patch of uneven ground, and he held out his hand to her.
"Jesus fuck! You okay? You look seriously not okay. What's up?" He asked, his voice far too casual for the situation they were in. Y/N took his hand without thinking and let him haul her upwards.
Her body trembled and every joint hurt when she stood but she didn't complain, because right now he seemed willing to help her - whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.
"My name is - " she started, but the man interrupted before she could say any more.
"Wait, hold on," he said, grabbing one arm while he used his other hand to fumble around in his pockets. After what felt like forever, his hands pulled out a lighter, lit it, and threw it onto a pile of documents that was lying in a bundle next to a nearby table. "Use that for warmth. You're fucking freezing, dude."
The fire was warm, as fire tends to be, so she did as he said and crouched down in front of it, trying to keep her teeth from chattering with extreme effort.
"I know who you are, bt-dubz." The man said with an amused tone, sitting down on the table, his legs swinging like a child. "Mayor's daughter, right?"
She nodded silently.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Vigilante. I'm here to help."
Vigilante. Yeah, she'd heard of him. Surely everyone in the Washington area had heard of this guy.
With her hands a little warmer, Y/N finally looked around and saw that she'd been held hostage in a small shipping container that clearly had a camera somewhere in the corner because a live feed was playing on a screen on the other side of the room. There were also multiple dead bodies strewn about, presumably these were the guys who kidnapped her, and puddles of blood all over the place.
"Are they all dead?" She croaked out eventually, looking back at Vigilante with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Yep."
"Oh."
Almost as a stroke of irony, a pair of bad guys that had managed to hide from the original onslaught came into the room with their guns pointed directly at the scared, shivering girl. Y/N moved as fast as her trembling muscles allowed and hid behind Vigilante, pressing herself against him so hard that he grunted in surprise.
After giving them a playful wave, Vigilante shot them just as the more confident of the two guys was about to speak up. They tumbled to the ground in a heap before they'd even had a chance to defend themselves. Vigilante turned and gave Y/N a thumbs up like this was a totally normal thing to do and witness, and was a little surprised that she'd buried her face in the back of his armour and hadn't seen his awesome gun skills.
"No need to get scared." He said gently. "You've got me to protect you now and I'm super cool."
She lifted her head just enough to catch sight of his concerned eyes before burying her face in the back of his armour once again. He turned to face her and was immediately engulfed in a hug as Y/N clung onto him. His arms wrapped around her almost reflexively in response to her action, though he wasn't even sure he really understood why she was hugging him. But he wasn't about to protest.
It was nice. Comforting, in fact. In some weird way, being held like this made him feel far more heroic than beating the bad guys up ever could have. It made him feel like a true superhero.
Did Superman feel like this?
"Let's get you out of here, huh? Me and my pals have been looking all over for you," Vigilante told her as they walked out of the shipping container, his arm around her waist to help her walk. She'd been sitting for at least a week straight. She was tired, starving, freezing, weak, bruised and had no recollection of exactly what had happened to her so any help she was offered, Y/N was going to take.
They got back to his car in no time. Vigilante opened the door for her, held her hand until she was securely inside the Vigilante-mobile, and secured her seat belt for her. "I don't know if that was patronising of me? Was it?" he mumbled sheepishly as he slid into the driver's seat.
"No. No. Thank you for helping me," Y/N said softly.
As he was backing out of where he was parked, his palm rested on the back of her headrest and he peered out the rear view window, and in doing so, he caught a glimpse of the meatball sub and bag of Lays that he'd packed for his late night patrol meal and left on his backseat. Once the driving manoeuvre had been completed, he was reaching for this meal and handing it to the hungry girl.
"Do you like meatballs?"
"I'm a vegetarian but I'm so hungry that I don't actually give a shit right now."
"Fuckin eat up, then," he laughed as Y/N dug into the package and devoured it. She wanted to be polite and have manners, just as she'd been taught to have all of her life, but she was so hungry, she forgot every single rule and etiquette lesson, and simply went for it. Vigilante didn't seem to mind, he just watched her with a smile on his face.
"I'm so sorry," she said between bites, taking another bite before speaking. "I don't usually eat like a pig, I swear!" She continued, swallowing quickly. Her hands flew up to her mouth to cover up the last bit of her chewing and he smiled at her in amusement.
"It's kinda hot actually. Is that weird? That sounds weird, right?" He joked and she smiled shyly at him, shaking her head and laughing despite herself. He was funny and cute in a slightly goofy kind of way, yet Y/N found herself feeling a little more at ease. Not completely. It would take more than a few jokes and a hasty meal for her to feel completely safe, but maybe having him around would make it a little easier.
Harcourt and the rest of the 11th Street Kids weren't expecting Vigilante to arrive with the girl they had all been tasked to save for the past week at 10pm on a Monday. But, he had. Obviously, they didn't know that the girl clinging to Vigilante's arm as he walked in was the Mayor's daughter and not some random civilian that he was bringing into their super secret HQ. Adebayo, Economos and Harcourt all stared in disbelief.
"Who the fuck is that?" Harcourt barked, her hands on her hips and annoyance in every line of her body. Thanks to how aggressive she sounded, Y/N hid behind Vigilante's shoulder.
"This is my boss, no need to worry," he soothed, looking back at her before turning towards his friends again. "Hi guys, this is Y/N, you know, the girl we're looking for. I found her!"
The others looked sceptical at first. Then Y/N raised her head enough that they got a look at her face and gave them a little wave, and there was no doubt - none at all - that this was the rich kid they'd been tasked to find. They'd seen pictures of her. In all of those, though, her hair was styled and not like a bird's nest, she had make up on her face and there weren't splotches of dirt and bruises everywhere, she wore fashionable outfits rather than a ragged painter's overalls.
"Where's Peace?" Adrian asked, scanning the room for his buddy while everyone else tried to digest the information he'd provided them with. He whispered to Y/N over his shoulder, "Peacemaker is really cool. I think you'd like him, not as much as you like me of course, but he's, like, the coolest dude out there," and she just nodded along, still hiding in a daze.
"Let me get this straight - "
Leota couldn't help it. She joked, "Ew, straights."
"Adebayo, please." Leota put her hands up in surrender even though she thought it was funny. "You found the Mayor's daughter -"
"Her name is Y/N," he interrupted.
"I fucking know her name is Y/N, Adrian! We've been searching for her for days and had literally no leads, yet you just found her -" Harcourt clicked her fingers. "Just like that?!"
A sense of cockiness entered his brain. Had it been an accident that he came across a bunch of sketchy looking guys that happened to have the exact person he was supposed to be looking for? Maybe... Yes. It definitely was. Was he going to admit to that? Hell no.
"Just like that," he cheered back smugly, ignoring Harcourt's outburst altogether and putting his hand on the small of Y/N's back to steer her in front of him. He noticed that she was still shaking like a leaf, and brushed his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to warm her up. "You cold? I'm sure I've got a sweater here somewhere."
"No, I'm not cold."
"You're shaking?"
"She's in shock, asshole," Economos pointed out from one side of the room while slouched against his desk and messaged Waller about this new development on his laptop.
Adrian scanned his brain to figure out what the hell to do when someone is in shock. He knew about physical shock - lay the person down, elevate the legs and feet slightly and keep them as still as possible - but, yeah, emotional stuff had never been his forte.
"Do you wanna another hug?" he offered quietly, truly only loud enough for Y/N to hear him. Y/N didn't reply verbally, she just attached herself to his side instantly and allowed him to wrap an arm around her waist, holding her close to his chest.
Everyone else in the room was stunned once again. Adrian had shocked them twice that night. He'd completed their mission all by himself and now he was acting softly towards a woman he'd met hours before. It was surreal, to say the least.
"You're going to be fine," Vigilante reassured Y/N, who seemed to visibly relax at these words from her saviour. "We'll be able to get you home and all cleaned up soon. You're gonna be just fine. Everything's gonna be okay," he repeated in her ear, and Y/N believed him wholeheartedly.
She would be fine. If he thought she would be, she would be.
John cleared his throat to get their attention. "Waller has instructed us to keep you here tonight, under watch because the forgetfulness gas they dosed her with is known to have side effects, so we can ensure your safety before your father gets here from Baltimore tomorrow morning," he informed the pair standing in front of him.
Y/N swallowed hard. Baltimore was around an hour away. That wasn't that long of a drive. It was doable, especially cause the roads were quiet this time of night. No, Y/N's father thought that this wasn't that big of a deal, clearly, which shouldn't have been as surprising as it was to her.
Dance recitals. Parent teacher meetings. Kidnappings. She'd been by herself for all of them. Well, Vigilante had been there to help her out with one of those.
"Is there a shower here?" Y/N asked as she glanced around the room nervously.
"No, there isn't," Harcourt told her. "Sorry."
"Oh, okay."
The poor girl sounded so defeated. She'd been through so much already and she was stuck in gross, dirty clothes in a room with people she didn't know. Of course Vigilante took pity on her.
"My apartment is five minutes away. I have a shower and I'll give you some clothes. That's okay, right, Harcourt?" He looked over at Harcourt hopefully. "Just so Y/N can clean up a bit?"
Harcourt sighed loudly. What she was about to offer wasn't out of the goodness of her heart. Vigilante was obviously enamoured by Y/N and would be really annoying if anyone took over her care, Emilia knew that with 100% certainty, so why not let him do everything and get a few hours of sleep. It was a win win.
"I'll do you one better: if you keep an eye on her, she can stay at your apartment till morning. Sound good?"
"Sounds really good to me. What do you think, Y/N?"
"Uh... Yeah, thank you so much! I don't want to impose-"
"Fuckin too polite, that's what you are," Vigilante fondly teased, his palm rubbing circles on Y/N's lower back. "It's settled! We're having a slumber party!"
The corners of Y/N lips turned up into a little smile. A slumber party with a masked hero? Why not? Life is short and he was nice to be around. It was a perfect idea.
After a week of solitary confinement and sensory deprivation, yeah, she deserved a night of fun.
So, once Vigilante had promised that he'd have her back by 9 am, they were making the 5 minute journey to his apartment. The place itself was a weird mix of 'I'm a typical single guy living alone so I have an xbox, a TV, gym equipment, a microwave, a broken bed, and a beat up couch that I bought of Craigslist' with a few family photos and a display case of childhood trophies that were clearly from two very different children - one was mostly for creative writing and a fair few participation ones while the other was every sport under the sun.
Y/N was guided into the bathroom, which was surprisingly neat - well, it's hard not to be when you have not much stuff - and was shown where everything was. Towels. The 5 litre jug of 2 in 1 hair and body wash. He'd gotten a packaged toothbrush and placed it right next to his thoroughly squished and twisted toothpaste. He'd plonked down the tube of Arnica for her bruises, and even offered to rub the cream in for her after her shower if she needed him to.
Did she need him to? Physically, no. Mentally, yes. It was a sweet moment of being cared for. There was no way it could last forever, but it felt pretty damn nice. So Y/N said yes.
Wrapped in nothing but a towel, Y/N watched as Vigilante - who still kept his mask on despite the fact she'd seen his family photos and could pick him out of a line up based on them - was so gentle as he thumbed the Arnica into a bruise on her cheek.
"I don't get to do this often."
"Hmm...?"
"Patch someone else up. I'm usually using this stuff on myself. It's nice - I mean, not the fact that you've got these bruises, that's not nice. That's not nice at all - but, I don't know, I know it sucks having to do this for yourself and I didn't want you to have to go through that on your own. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah," she murmured. "Thank you. For caring. About me."
He chuckled, "It's easy to," and had no idea that he'd said something incredibly sweet. Y/N's eyes became a little misty, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. She sniffled and wiped them away as he moved to get her some pj's.
They stayed silent for the longest time after that and the atmosphere between them had shifted. It wasn't awkward or tense, per say. But it felt intimate in a way that was foreign to the both of them. Adrian felt delirious from how happy he was, how excited he was to have Y/N around him, and felt reckless. So, he did something totally out of character for him.
"Do you think it would be weird if I took my mask off?" he inquired, his voice taking on a rather shy tone. "Like, would that freak you out? I thought we could watch a movie and I usually eat popcorn and... y'know."
"If you're comfortable with it, yeah. I mean, I know what you look like already."
"You do!?"
She gestured to one of the family pictures on the wall. "The one in teal, right?" Y/N pointed to the younger boy in the image - a goofy, gangly looking teenager with a power ranger on his shirt - and even if he had tried to lie, his face gave it away.
His fingers found the edge of his mask and he pulled it off without a second thought, revealing his face for Y/N to actually see properly. His hair was a mess but it was cute messy and he had this huge grin plastered across his face, looking absolutely manic but so endearing.
"What movie do you wanna watch?"
Stunned, Y/N didn't answer. She couldn't. He was too pretty. Way too pretty. Her mouth went dry and all thoughts left her brain. She stared at him and he just looked at her, waiting for an answer, his cheeks tinged with colour as he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. She hated his mask now, she decided, because it was a crime to cover such beauty.
"Are you going back into shock?"
"No, you're just pretty," Y/N admitted quietly, a nervous smile gracing her features.
"Me?"
It was like electricity passed between them as the words slipped from his lips and it caused Y/N's chest to tighten.
"Yeah."
Bashfulness overtook him as he averted his gaze to the floor sheepishly. "Thanks, I guess." He paused for a brief second before returning his gaze to hers. "You're pretty too."
Really badly.
He wanted to kiss her but knew he shouldn't. Not right now, that wasn't appropriate. Maybe later. Who knows? But he definitely wanted to kiss her.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This isn't... you're in a vulnerable state, I shouldn't be flirting with you."
Like, super bad.
Oh, wait. Superbad. That would be a great, easygoing movie to watch.
"Let me go get changed and get my laptop. I'll be right back," he quickly excused himself.
While Y/N waited for him, she got into the pj's he'd provided and ventured into his bedroom. There weren't many personal items inside. A lot of comic books, a couple of CDs and figurines, some posters - she recognised the obvious (Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman) but there were some hand drawn ones that were superheroes that he'd come up with - and an old Teddy bear.
Picking up the bear, Y/N smiled. It was small and brown and missing an eye but had clearly been very loved. She ran her thumb along the worn fabric of the fur, a warm feeling spreading throughout her chest, and sat on his bed with it on her lap.
Vigilante re-entered the room wearing some sweatpants with a tank top. Once he saw Y/N sitting down and holding his bear, his face contorted into one of surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, probably a dumb ass comment, but closed it once Y/N looked up at him so softly and innocently that whatever he was going to say was wiped from his mind.
"What's their name?" Y/N nodded towards the bear.
"His name is Bagel."
"Bagel?" she repeated, amusement coating every letter.
"Yeah, cause he's the same shade of brown as a bagel, duh."
"Duh!" Y/N laughed quietly, clutching Bagel close to her as Adrian sat beside her and started scrolling through Netflix to find the movie he wanted.
Soon, they were shoulder to shoulder watching the movie together whilst Y/N snuggled up closely against Adrian's side, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder as she cuddled both his arm and the Teddy to her chest. Adrian rested his head lightly on top of hers, enjoying the comfort he received from her presence and the warmth of her body pressed against his.
In that moment, all of his worries and problems were wiped away, and was replaced with complete contentment.
None of the side effects of the forgetfulness gas had made an appearance, which was lucky, and they both fell asleep before the movie ended. Neither woke up until morning rolled around. They slept soundly and peacefully through the night, wrapped tightly in each other's arms with Bagel lying snugly between them.
9 am arrived and they were prepared for everything - they had a solid 8 hours, breakfast, brushed their teeth, a fresh outfit on, every step in their normal morning routine - but the one thing they hadn't accounted for was leaving each other.
They'd only known each other for around 12 hours but it definitely had made an impression on them. Their interactions had been casual yet deep, meaningful yet lighthearted, and extremely tender. They had a connection that was different than they had expected, different than any relationship they had ever had before. It was strange and new and wonderful, and they didn't want it to end.
"Can I, uh, can I see your phone?" Y/N asked, a hesitant lilt to her voice.
"Yeah, the password is 1981."
Within seconds, Y/N was putting her number into his phone and sending herself a text message before handing it back to him. "We could have another slumber party if you'd like? Text me when you're free.”
"That'd be cool. I mean, I'd love that," Adrian responded, still staring down at where their fingertips touched. He glanced up, meeting Y/N's gaze for a moment before looking back down at his phone, a shy smile curling his lips upwards.
Before he second guessed himself, he moved in to press a sweet kiss on her cheek.
It may have been goodbye for now, but that was only temporary.
They'd have many more slumber parties in the future, many more nights spent curled up against each other with soft smiles playing on their lips. Eventually, many more kisses, many more hugs, many more of less PG things, many more of everything.
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familyvideostevie · 1 year
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“needing to use the restroom but they're clinging onto you like a koala and you don't want to wake them up” that is so James Potter I cry my snuggly boy
thank you for your request! <3 | needing to use the restroom but they're clinging to onto you like a koala and you don't want to wake them up ---
You're not totally sure what wakes you -- James's quiet snores or your need to pee. Probably a mix of both, since his face is smushed into your neck and thus you ear is rather close to the rumbling breaths. The sun has almost set, evening light bathing the room in a warm golden glow. James had gotten home from an early shift a few hours ago and declared today "a wash" and begged you to nap with him on the couch.
Naps, in your relationship, mean you sprawled across the cushions and James gently but firmly positioned on top of you, arms wrapped around you like the world's coziest and most handsome blanket. There is nowhere you feel safer than his embrace.
You know that he likes sleeping like this, too. Getting James to slow down is like coaxing an excited puppy to sit -- he's always on the go, always moving, always talking. You love it about him, his lust for life. His commitment to trying new things and to making sure that you're as happy as possible. But he tires himself out often and you know that one of the few places he feels able to rest fully, to remind himself that the world will wait, is in your arms.
The sleep slowly fades from your vision and you rub a hand up and down his back. He inhales deeply, lips pressed to your pulse, before letting out another small snore. You grin. His unruly black hair tickles your nose, your cheeks. He smells like coconuts and grass.
You could stay here forever, probably, but you remember the other reason you woke up: bathroom. You run your fingers through his curls gently, teasing out a few knots, and hope it'll rouse him.
"James," you whisper. "James, wake up. I need to pee."
Snore.
"C'mon you lump," you say, still whispering, your voice rough with sleep. "Jamie, move."
You could shove him off, you know that. But he is rather heavy and you don't totally want this moment to end. The flat is so cold and he's so warm.
But, as he snores again, a little louder this time, you decide that romance can take a backseat for a second. You do need to go to the bathroom and someone needs to start dinner sooner rather than later. So, you decide to employ a trick Sirius taught you from their school days. You gently push his hair back so that you can bring your lips to one of his ears and suck in a breath before blowing sharply into his ear canal.
James startles, yelping and jerking so wildly that he rolls right off of you and onto the floor with a thump.
"Fuck me," he says, voice groggy. You can't contain your laughter as it bubbles out of you and you sit up. "Could've just shaken me, you evil woman."
"But that's so much less fun!" You stand and move to step over him, dodging his hand where he tries to grab your ankle.
"I could've hit my head!" he moans.
"Good thing you've got a thick skull."
"Brutal. What time is it?" he mumbles, eyes closing again right there on the carpet.
"Time for you to start dinner!" you call over your shoulder. James groans and you laugh.
request a prompt here!
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