#but asks for his strength where she lacks it

[niishi]

hiyori and Zoro is one of my fave Zoro ships and one day I'll write an analysis on them and convert all of you.

#theyre so good #they fill in blanks with each other so much #you ever think how zoro isnt tender wnd soft with women bc kuina changed his perspective #for the best and all #but how it made him intentionally try to perceive them like men percieve each other #and how hiyori doesnt ask that of him #but asks for his strength where she lacks it #how shes straight forward and says what she means to him #instead of making fun of him(what hes used to) #and how zoro attaches to unguarded honesty like that bc he doesnt do implications or jokes very well #or hiw ppl prefer kiku and im thinking like... well the thing hes most useful for he cant offer to her #how he got tenderness from hiyori and genuine compliments #she saw him as himself and not a goal #he saw her as herself and could treat her like a girl instead of an ungendered direct comparison #thats a hard thought to put into words #they got to be different from each other #and zoros so used to trying to see him and women as the same but not all womens strength lies in their physical abilities #like they had two different types of strength and recognized that and filled in blanks #instead of two carbon copies mirroring each other #you feel me

[sturnioloskyline]

flu season

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: illness, crying, language, sickening fluff(get it?)

summary: you get the flu and don’t tell matt, so he gets worried takes things into his own hands

being sick sucks. no one knew that bettter than y/n, who was currently buried under blankets on her couch in her apartment in la. this morning she woke up sweating with a pounding headache and an inability to breathe through the congestion in her nose.

she called in sick to work and stayed in bed until noon before mustering up enough strength to get up and make a cup of ramen noodles. she then settled to watch a movie on the couch, where she ended up falling asleep.

not far away, matt nervously chewed on the skin in his cheek as he stared at his phone. he had sent 5 texts to his girlfriend today, none of them having received a response.

matt knew this meant something was wrong, because usually y/n would text him a sweet “good morning” the second she started her day. they weren’t fighting, at least that matt knew of, so of course matt was sent into a anxious spiral over the lack of responses from his girlfriend.

finally, matt ripped his eyes away from the screen, walking over to the kitchen where his two brothers were standing, giggling to each other. matt ignored them and grabbed his car keys from the counter, immediately catching the other triplets’ attention.

“matt, where are you going?” chris whined.

��y/n’s.” matt quickly replied, stuffing the keys into his pocket and heading for the garage. chris and nick immediately looked to each other in worry at the expression on their brother’s face.

“is everything okay?” nick asked matt cautiously.

“i don’t know, she isn’t responding to any of my texts,” matt rambled, putting on his shoes. “i’m just gonna go make sure she’s okay.”

matt rushed out the door before his brothers could say anything else. he got in his car and began driving over to y/n’s place. he chewed on his lip nervously as he drove, his anxiety only growing the longer he didn’t hear from y/n.

after what seemed like hours, matt parked outside y/n’s apartment building and made his way home to her front door. he rang the doorbell immediately and stepped back to wait for her.

inside the apartment, y/n jolted awake at the sound of her doorbell ringing. her head was throbbing in pain, her throat was scratchy, and the air in her living room felt ten times colder than it was when she fell asleep. she got up from her nest on the couch and shivered, grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around herself.

the doorbell rang again, creating a sense of urgency as y/n tried to compose herself somewhat for whoever could be ringing her doorbell and disrupting her afternoon. she struggled to the door, messing with the lock weakly before finally swinging the door open.

“y/n,” matt sighed in relief immediately as y/n opened the door.

“matt?” y/n croaked out in shock. heat rose to her cheeks. she hadn’t invited matt over, and was unprepared for him to see her. matt and y/n had only been dating for a while, and she had never been sick around her ever. “what are you doing here?”

“i needed to see if you were okay. are you okay?” matt asked, his face scrunching slightly with worry once again as his eyes scanned over y/n’s pale face.

y/n didn’t know if it was the shock of her boyfriend showing up to her apartment, the embarrassment she felt from her sickly look, or how miserably sick she felt, but suddenly her eyes watered and her lip trembled as she shook her head at matt.

“oh, baby,” matt whispered, stepping into the apartment and wrapping his arms around y/n.

she immediately melted into his arms, a weight on her shoulders lifted as matt locked the door behind him and held y/n in his arms in silence. tears streamed down her cheeks as she sniffled into his jacket. matt leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“wanna sit down?” matt asked as y/n’s cries softened. y/n simply nodded, letting matt lead her back to the couch. when the sat down, matt wrapped one arm around y/n frame, letting her lean into him. “what’s wrong?”

“i caught the flu.” y/n sniffed, rubbing her sore eyes. “i feel like shit.”

“i’m sorry baby,” matt whispered into y/n’s hair, letting his fingertips graze up and down her arm.

“i’m sorry you have to deal with this,” y/n mumbled, suddenly shy of matt seeing her with her messy hair and in t-shirt and sweats.

“you have nothing to be sorry about,” matt scoffed, bringing his hand to her cheek and tilting her head up to place a soft peck on her lips. as if sensing her insecurity, matt giggled “you look so pretty right now.”

y/n blushed and leaned impossibly further into matt’s arms. “can you stay here with me?”

“of course,” matt spoke softly, pulling y/n closer to his chest. a few minutes later, y/n’s breathing slowed, and matt looked down at her head buried in his chest.

“babe?” matt whispered. y/n didn’t respond. matt smiled at his girlfriend’s sleeping figure before reaching over to grab one of the blankets from the couch and draping it over both of their bodies. matt leaned his face down to kiss the top of y/n’s head, before letting his own eyes flutter shut.

…

author’s note: pls don’t bully me this is my first try! i literally have never written on tumblr before and i haven’t written in like 2 years anyways, so. but if u have any advice or want a part 2 pls let me know!!!!!! OK BYE

#sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #fluff

[luveline]

oooh! just had an idea!!! bombshell reader x spencer where he comes over to her apartment one day on the weekend to suprise her with breakfast/flowers bc they just started dating. however, bombshell is in sweats/no makeup/messy hair when she answers but when she sees its spencer, she FLIPS out/slams the door bc she doesnt want him to see her in that state. spencer, however, is confused ofc because he genuinely doesnt notice her outfit/lack of makeup and thinks she is gorgeous no matter what.

hope this is ok ♡ fem, 1.1k

The song starts slow and ends slower. You could picture Spencer listening to it, his head on your shoulder or yours on his, wired earphones shared between you. 

You grab a pencil to jot a quick post-it note so you'll remember, one knee on your desk chair. You don't want to sit down with the shower running in case you get distracted by your new photo frame.

You and Spencer took a photo to commemorate finally getting together. Or rather, Hotch did, standing behind the camera with an impossible mixture of fondness and disapproval. You look like a true couple with matching graphic t-shirts and beaming smiles, Spencer's arm over your shoulders and yours behind his back. You can't see it without staring; you use all your strength to ignore the photo, pulling your post-it from its pad and tacking the yellow square to your vanity. Tell Spencer about love song from Ocean Boulavard. 

The door to your apartment rings with a knock. If you weren't distracted in your losing don't-think-about-Spencer battle, you'd recognise the timid pattern of it. 

You've been expecting a parcel all weekend. 

"Coming!" you call, tugging a sweater over your vest top, plaid pyjama pants dragging against the floor as you make your way out of your bedroom and into the main living area. "Two seconds!" 

You give yourself a precursory glance in the mirror next to the door before you answer it. You'd never go out like this, but the delivery driver won't see you long. You're mostly clean and fully dressed, though your socks don't match. 

That's another thing to tell Spencer. He must be rubbing off on you. 

"Hello," you say cheerily, pulling the door open with a smile. 

"Hi," Spencer says, big brown eyes aglow at the sight of you, his hands full to bursting. There are enough things in his hands to hide his chest completely. 

You don't have a chance to decipher exactly what he's brought as you flinch behind the cover of the door, not cruel enough to close it in his face, but wanting to. "Spencer! What are you doing here?" 

"Well, you live here." 

His hand comes up tentatively near yours on the door. He doesn't push it further in or attempt to come inside. He might have, if you hadn't squeaked in warning, biting down on the soft inside of your cheek. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Everything is fine!" You squeeze your eyes closed, your pulse a hummingbird hammering between them. 

"Really?" Spencer asks, taking back his hand. "Can I–"

There's a shuffling sound like he might step forward, and that's the last straw, you're fully panicking as you slam it closed.

A too long silence. Your breath comes unnaturally quickly, your thoughts racing to match. I can't believe I just did that. Why did I do that? 

What do I do? 

"Spencer, I'm naked," you say. 

"You were definitely wearing clothes. What's wrong? I brought breakfast, I thought I'd surprise you. I texted you. When you didn't answer I figured maybe you were still sleeping after last night, but… now I'm thinking maybe I read that wrong."

"You didn't read it wrong! You can always come over!" you insist, looking around behind you as if you might suddenly find a full face of makeup hiding in your sideboard, or a fresh change of clothes hanging on the coat hooks. 

"Okay, so, can I come in?" 

You poke at the sore bit of skin in your cheek with a wince. "Spence, I'm not dressed. Like, I'm not ready. I look like a mess." 

"You looked beautiful. For the two seconds that I could see your face, at least." You breathe in uselessly. An answer doesn't present itself. Spencer offers some wisdom while you panic, but you aren't sure you want to hear it. "We're dating, right? So as much as you clearly don't want me to see you like this, it's gonna happen. Hopefully regularly?" He laughs lightly on the other side of the door. "Can I please come in?" 

Nerves gnaw at your fingers, uncomfortable pins and needles. "What if you don't like it as much?" you ask quietly. You're surprised he can hear you. 

"Do you trust me?"

What sort of question is that? This isn't about trust. This is about you, an image of yourself you hold and that you want others to share, it's why you dress as you do, why you wear your intricate hairstyles, and spend hours upon hours priming and primping.

You want to be pretty deeply, especially in Spencer's eyes. Do you trust him to find you pretty still, without all the extra effort? Pretty from the moment you wake up? 

You wait for the verdict as you open the door again. The handle clicks and lugs, the hinge whining as it swings inward. You step backward to allow him space, meeting Spencer's eyes with an insecurity that doesn't suit you.

He doesn't react at first. His hand tightens around the neck of a sprawling bouquet, wildflowers like a burst of colour against his chest, the long white body of a lily of the valley kissing the curve of his neck. He smells like powdered sugar donuts and the food truck they came from, the story of his obsession a remembered delight. I think of you every time I cross the square to the train station by my place. The warm vanilla smell reminds me of your perfume. But I'm usually already thinking of you. He's been bringing you donuts intermittently for months now. 

He finally smiles at you, all manner of morning warmth flooding the room with him. The sun at his heels, the silky brown colour of his hair, you look up as he steps close, as light silhouettes him, turns the silk to fluff. You can see every detail this close down to the baby flyaways, and he can see the same. 

"How could you think I wouldn't like this?" he asks. His words are hushed with earnestness but yards from hesitant. Spencer is unabashedly, genuinely enamoured with you. "You're so pretty. You always are." 

You beg him silently to hold your face, taking the flowers from his hand. He can read you from that small action alone, raising a deft hand to your cheek. 

You lean into his palm. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[pianokantzart]

YES! GOOD! I’m going to just going to analyze the whole dinner scene, because it’s one of my favorite parts of the movie. 

Mario and Luigi walk in, and immediately the whole room lights up to greet them. Despite everything that follows, one thing is clear: The Mario Brothers are happy to see their family, and the family is happy to see them. 

The whole family confirms that they watched their commercial. Everyone except their mom insists the commercial was a bad idea, but the fact that they all watched it speaks to the fact that there is no indifference regarding Mario and Luigi’s dream. They’re eager to see where this endeavor leads, even if they think it’s going to end in failure. 

The moment Mario and Luigi sit down at the table, their uncles begin laying into them like it’s open season on financially struggling plumbers. Just full blown, no-holds-barred roast mode on their nephews.

Mario is on the defensive, but he doesn’t get angry, he’s just trying to argue his side. Clearly this is typical behavior for Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur. They’re loud, overly honest, and obnoxiously confident in their opinions. Uncle Arthur, thankfully, has his wife to keep him in check. Uncle Tony, however, who is seated next to poor Luigi, is an absolute menace.

Luigi ignores all the teasing. He is only interested in getting food, but this is not an easy task. Tony’s verbal arguments are all directed at Mario, but Luigi is the one who gets prodded and shoved around, and that makes getting dinner next to impossible.

Luigi attempts to serve himself salad, attempts to ask for a roll, attempts to eat the mushrooms being put on his plate, and at every turn he’s either pushed away or talked over. He is clearly very soft spoken compared to the other men in his family, and never quite had the strength to stand up for himself... after all, everyone means well, they just lack self awareness. It isn’t worth the fight. 

Thankfully, Luigi’s mom comes to the rescue, and puts a bowl of soup in front of her boy. She’s the queen of the caretaker role, making sure all the loose ends are tied up and that everybody eats.

But on the flip side, it’s interesting to note that once the uncles start tearing into Mario, Mario’s Dad serves him up a plate of food. He may have just been serving the person next to him because that was the polite thing to do, but I have a theory...

I think that this wasn’t the first night that Mario and his uncles went at each other. I think Mario’s Dad read the room, and figured that if Mario was going to spend dinner playing defense, he should at least remember to eat while doing so.

It also speaks volumes that Mario’s Dad doesn’t voice his disapproval until Mario asks for his opinion. Before then he avoids the subject and lets everyone else do the talking, but so long as he’s being questioned directly, he can’t help but be honest.

“I think... you’re nuts. You don’t quit a steady job for some crazy dream.” This sounds like a voice of experience. Mario’s Dad has the figure of someone who has worked physical labor for a good portion of his life (look the size of those arms). He may have had dreams of his own when he was younger, but he had a wife and kids to worry about, and family took priority. 

Speaking of family taking priority: “... and the worst part? You’re bringing your brother down with you.” That settles it. The conversation has gone from a casual roast session to dead serious. The entire room falls quiet as Mario puts down his fork and storms off. 

“What’d I say?” Everybody at the table (except the niece, she’s long since checked out) gives Mario’s Dad different versions of the look™. Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur have the same “Jesus Christ bro, you didn’t have to go there” expression, and Luigi just looks hurt on Mario’s behalf. His Dad, however, is just confused.  

He didn’t get the gravity of what he said. His relationship with his own brothers– loudmouthed schmucks who call their own shots – is completely alien to what Luigi and Mario have. He probably knows Mario is protective of Luigi, but he doesn’t realize the depth of responsibility Mario feels for him. Anyone can see that Luigi is loyal to his brother, but Mario alone knows how loyal he is, and the implication that he’s betraying that loyalty is intensely painful. 

I doubt Uncle Arthur and Uncle Tony truly relate to Mario and Luigi’s relationship either, but they’ve probably teased Mario enough to understand one thing: bringing Luigi into it is a line you do not cross.

Conclusion:

There is a lot of love in the Mario family.

Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur are definitely the most insufferable of the bunch, but there is no malice in their teasing. While they are brash and overbearing, it’s all in good fun, and they get visibly uncomfortable when things go too far and someone actually ends up hurt. 

Luigi seems to take after his mother; kind, nonconfrontational, and happily invested in a supporting role. While his Mom cares for and assists the family, Luigi cares for and assists his brother, both emotionally and in his business ventures.

Mario, in the meantime, takes after his Dad, who appears to be the oldest of the three brothers. He doesn’t always think before speaking, but he isn’t constantly running his mouth like Arthur or Tony, and acts with the gravity of someone who bears a lot of responsibility. He doesn’t quite “get” his sons, but he knows enough to see that Luigi follows his brother everywhere, and Mario does not always think before jumping into things. Despite what Mario may believe, his Dad doesn’t see him as a “joke” so much as he sees him as an impulsive young man who doesn’t grasp the consequences of his actions. But Mario does understand the consequences of his actions, he just dreams big, and... thanks to Luigi... actually has the support he needs to pursue those dreams. 

#mario movie #mario movie spoilers #super mario brothers movie #Luigi #Mario #Not Art #mario commentary #This got a lot longer than I thought it would #There were a lot of thoughts #Super Mario Brothers #Long Post

[xxoxobree]

The Boy Is Mine

Miles Morales x Black Fem Spider-person Reader v Gwen Stacy.

Summary: He saved you and She didn’t want to and maybe she was right because the boy is now yours.

WARNINGS: Fighting, bad words, I think that’s it.

A/n: I was tied!!! Of seeing Miles cheat with Gwen so I took matters into my own hands. This is probably one of the best stories I’ve ever written too so don’t skip. I had so much fun writing this.

For the past 2 years, you've been the one and only Spider-woman. Everyone knows the story by now, bitten by a radioactive spider, and now you spend your time protecting the city. Everything was going great. Or that's what you wanted to believe as you fought Wilson Fisk, a person who is supposed to be behind bars. This Wilson was different - bigger, stronger, he was giving you a run for your money.

"What have they been feeding you at the Raft, Willie?" You quipped as you dodged a punch. "Haha, missed me," you said, landing a punch combo to his jaw.

"You stupid spiders are always in the way," he said, managing to catch you off guard, knocking you back. This fight is definitely gonna take a while.

"Who are you anyway, where's Spider-Man?" Fisk asked, walking menacingly toward you as you lay on the floor to catch a breath.

"I don't get paid enough for this," you said, getting up, squaring up with the large man.

Spider-Man, what are you talking about, Fisk?" You asked the man leaping backwards, dodging all of his hits.

"Enough of this talk, this ends now," Fisk said, running toward you. You charged back, your fist balled, about to strike, but he dodged and caught you by your throat.

"Another spider under my belt," Fisk said, laughing as he squeezed your throat. Gasping for air, you tried your best to break free from his grip, but your vision began to fade out. Your strength left you, and your eyes began to close. All you wanted to do was sleep, but you blinked your eyes again. Maybe you were hallucinating from the lack of oxygen, but a portal with glowing lights appeared, and two other spider personas flew forward, knocking Fisk out. You dropped to the floor, gasping for air, but still fainted in the process.

You probably weren't out for long, but you heard faint voices, a female and a male.

"What do we do, Gwen? We can't just leave her here."

"Miles, what are we supposed to do? We can't take her back to HQ."

You were too weak to actually open your eyes to see who was talking. Too weak to stop them from kidnapping you and taking you to wherever HQ was. You tried to let out a small groan, but it was useless.

"That's exactly what we need to do, Gwen. She needs medical care."

"Ughhh.... Fine, you grab her."

You heard footsteps move towards you, and your body being lifted before you succumbed to the darkness around you again.

✨HQ✨

Your bloodshot eyes shot open as you sat up, feeling around for your mask that wasn't on your face. You heard the fast-paced beeping of a heart monitor, letting you know your heart rate was up as you ripped all the pads off of you, standing ready to leave the room before two people came walking inside. You immediately got in defense mode as you studied them - an older man in a blue suit with a spider on the front, and a younger boy about your age in a black suit, also with a spider on the front.

"Where the fuck am I, and who are you?" you said, pointing.

"Welcome to HQ, Spiderwoman. I'm Spider-Man, and he's Spider-Man. Glad you survived. Miles, I'll leave you to it," the older man in the blue suit said, walking away.

Miles walked closer to you, setting off your spider senses. You closed one of your eyes, moving your head to the side, resting your hand on your head. "Don't come any closer," you said.

You're probably not used to that, but you're like me, it does that sometimes. I'm Miles.

"Yeah, I got that from earlier," you said, flopping back on the hospital cot, still very much in pain.

Miles wasn't in the room when they took off your mask, so this was the first time he saw your face. He scanned every detail of your face, taking in the way your plump lips formed into a natural pout, or maybe that was just because you were in pain. The way your brown eyes sparkled under the bright white light, he couldn't help but be captivated by your gaze. He loved your braids and the way your pink beads rattled every time you moved.

Miles felt something stir in the pit of his stomach the longer he looked at you. Maybe it was just gas from the spicy food he ate earlier, he thought, in denial of the growing attraction he felt for a stranger.

"Well, aren't you gonna tell me your name?" Miles finally mustered the courage to ask.

You turned to face him, the pain momentarily forgotten as you observed his silly smirk. You weren't usually the friendliest person, but there was something about Miles that felt different, something that made you want to open up.

"I'm Y/n," you replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Nice to meet you Y/n," Miles said, offering his hand. You looked at it. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm in too much pain right now," you said, causing both of you to laugh. There it was, that fluttering feeling in the pit of Miles' stomach again as he watched a beautiful smile grace your face.

"So, what is this place and why am I here?" you asked Miles, curiosity shining in your eyes. "This is the Spider Society. We brought you here because you were in bad shape from fighting Fisk," Miles explained. You coughed a bit. "Yup, he whooped my ass," you said, making both you and Miles burst into laughter again.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Gwen stood outside the door, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding inside. With each word you said to Miles, with each chuckle you elicited from him, the flames of jealousy ignited within her. Unable to bear it any longer, she burst into the room, startling both you and Miles.

"What the fuck? You didn't even have to do all that, shawty," You exclaimed. Miles stood up, a look of surprise on his face. "Gwen, this is Y/n, Spider-woman, the one we helped," he explained, pointing toward you.

"Oh, hi. I'm glad you're okay," Gwen said, her words laced with a hint of insincerity.

This your girl Miles ?" You asked.

"No, no." They both said in unison dragging their o's. It was obvious to you that there was more to the story by the way she busted into the room but that was none of your business.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Y/n. We should get going," Gwen said, gently tugging Miles towards the door.

Before leaving, Miles tossed you a watch that you effortlessly caught. "Maybe we can see each other again," he said, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You smiled, watching him walk away.

"Hmmm," you hummed, examining the watch before clasping it onto your wrist. "Maybe we will, Spider-Man."

As Gwen and Miles made their way through the headquarters, Miles couldn't ignore Gwen's evident distress. He studied her face and body language.He called out to her, "Gwen?"

Getting no response, Miles tried a sing-songy voice, calling her name once more. "What, Miles?" she replied, her voice tinged with bitterness.

"I know you're upset. Do you want to talk or not?" Miles asked, genuinely wanting to understand what was bothering her.

"Why don't you go talk to Y/n?"

"Gwen, are you serious? I barely know her, but she's a cool girl," Miles defended, trying to reassure her.

"Oh, she's cool now?" Gwen's tone dripped with sarcasm and doubt.

Miles gently reached for Gwen's hand, stopping her in her tracks, making her face him directly. "Look, Gwen, you don't have to worry about her, okay?" he said softly.

Gwen's expression softened, and she nodded, a flicker of trust returning to her eyes. "Alright, Miles. She said giving him a small punch to the shoulder.

✨The Mission✨

You were back in your dimension 2 days post fight with Fisk feeling good as new. You were in bed, examining the watch Miles gave you, when a hologram of a woman appeared, making you scream.

"Oh hey there new recruit, I'm Lyla," she said, waving.

"Hi... Lyla," you said slowly, waving back.

"Sorry to scare you, but the boss needs you at HQ, your first mission... Yayyyy, so suit up," she said before disappearing.

"Uh, okay," you said, slipping into your skintight suit and mask, slapping on your watch, struggling to find out how to get it to work because no one gave you a tutorial. But you managed using your genius brain and stepped through the portal, gracefully landing in a dark room with monitors.

"Great, you're here......Miles!" the man you were familiar with but never got his name called out.

From the shadows, Miles emerged with a smile on his face. "Good to see you again, Mamita," he said.

"Oh, we're using pet names now?" you said, matching his flirty energy.

"That's enough," Miguel said as he stood before you two. "Anomaly in Earth 746, catch it."

"Anomaly?" you questioned.

"I'll tell you all about it later," Miles said, grabbing your hand, opening a portal, and pulling you through.

You dusted off your hands. The mission went well, a little too well, especially for a Goblin mission.

"You're pretty good, Miles."

"You too, Mamita. Gotta say, I doubted you a little after the Fisk fight," he teased.

"Oh, whatever," you said, rolling your eyes, chuckling a bit.

You moved closer to Miles, mere inches between you two, as you ran your fingers along his jawline.

Miles' breath hitched as you touched him, his hazel eyes expressing the tension between you two. There was no denying that Miles was handsome, and you were eager to learn more about him.

"So what dimension are you from, Papa?" you asked playfully, a flirtatious smile gracing your lips.

"1610. Maybe we could go there?" Miles responded, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Take a girl on a date first, Miles," you laughed, teasing him gently.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I..." Miles stammered, trying to explain himself.

"I would love to see your dimension, Miles," you interrupted, cutting him off.

And so, Miles took you to his dimension.

"This is Brooklyn." Miles said as you two stood atop the Williamsburg Bank building, you marveled at the city below. It was similar to your own home, yet distinctly different. Miles watched in awe as your eyes sparkled at the city, feeling a flutter in his stomach.

"It's beautiful, Miles," you whispered, taking a seat to soak in the view.

He walked forward and sat beside you, his face beaming with joy. You turned towards him, a warm smile on your lips.

"So, what's your story, big head?" you asked, playfully leaning on him.

"My story?" Miles responded, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"You're Spider-Man, Miles. What's your origin?" you asked , curious him.

"You know, regular Spider-Man stuff. I gained my powers and now I fight bad guys," Miles answered, a humble tone in his voice.

"That's not what I meant," you said, giving him a small shove. "What's the real story? I was bitten by a radioactive spider too, two years ago on a field trip to Oscorp. Your world doesn't seem to have Oscorp." You sighed, frustration and sadness mixing in your voice. "I got these crazy powers that I didn't know what to do with, so I decided to keep them a secret and pretend that I was a regular kid."

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air as you choked up, memories flooding back. Miles noticed your distress and perked up. "It's okay, you don't have to share if you don't want to," he said, trying to comfort you.

But something compelled you to open up, to let go of the burden you had been carrying alone for so long. You rested your hand gently on top of his. "I pretended to be some regular kid, and that led to me losing my mom. And from then on, I decided to help everyone else," you finished.

Miles's heart stung as he listened to your story. "I lost someone close to me too, my uncle Aaron. He was shot saving me," he shared, the pain evident in his voice.

A sense of understanding and connection washed over you both. You leaned your head on his shoulder. "See, that's your story, Papa," you said softly, appreciating the bond that formed between you. "You know, Miles, it's so nice to have someone to talk about this stuff with now," you added, gazing at the sun setting on the horizon.

That moment solidified your blooming relationship with Miles. Whenever you had free time, you would pop into his dimension, and vice versa. Now, in your suit, you found yourself in dimension 1610, patiently waiting for Miles to catch up as you swung through the bustling city.

"Keep up, Miles," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you effortlessly jumped from building to building, landing with grace. The two of you were headed back to his house, where Jeff and Rio, his parents, adored you and had grown fond to your presence after all the time you spent with Miles.

They couldn't wrap their head around the whole different dimension thing and just assumed Miles' imagination had run wild. You two walked through his front door.

"Hey Mama Rio," you greeted Miles' mom.

"Hey Mija."

"Hey Mom," Miles said, hugging his mom before the two of you walked into his room. You two were too caught up in conversation to notice a guest. Gwen. She cleared her throat, making you two snap your attention towards her.

"Gwen, hey," Miles said nervously. "What are you - what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you because I barely see you anymore, but now I know why," Gwen answered.

You snickered a bit, knowing you essentially snatched Miles from Gwen.

"Oh, that's funny?" Gwen asked.

You threw your hands up in surrender, not wanting to get into it with her.

"We were about to watch a movie, order some pizza. You can stay if you want," Miles offered to pacify Gwen, but he was hoping she'd turn it down. He cherished his alone time with you.

"No, it's fine, Miles. I'll leave," Gwen said with a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Uh, okay. Bye," Miles said

"Bye, Gwendolyn," you added, unable to hide the small smirk on your face.

Gwen turned to you and asked, "You know what, can we talk outside, Y/n?"

Rolling your eyes, you agreed, "Sure, why not?" You grabbed Miles' hand, signaling for him to come along.

"Alone," Gwen insisted, her tone unwavering.

"Okay... I'll be back, papa," you said to Miles, giving him a smile and a pat on the cheek.

As you followed Gwen out of the window and onto the roof, you could feel the tension building up. Once you reached a secluded corner, she turned to face you, arms folded.

"What is your problem?" she asked, her voice filled with accusation.

"Girl, what are you talking about?" you answered defensively.

"Miles," she replied, her tone laced with frustration.

"What about him? He's fine, great even," you said, walking closer to her.

"Don't play dumb, Y/n," Gwen snapped.

"What are you getting at, Gwen?" you said, your tone becoming pointed as you grew tired of the conversation.

"He's mine, Y/n, and you're trying to steal him away," her voice filled with possessiveness.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Yours?" you asked, shaking your head. "Gwen, you lost him the day you two saved me."

As the words left your mouth, the truth hung heavy in the air. Gwen had been holding onto her feelings for Miles while pretending everything was okay. But deep down, she knew that the connection between you and Miles was undeniable.

What you didn't see coming was a slap across your face from Gwen, not thinking she was bold enough to do it. The sting of her actions lingered in the air as shock resonated through your entire being. And what Gwen didn't see was Miles, camouflaged and watching you two from a distance. He didn't hear anything you two talked about, but he sure did see the slap.

As the pain subsided, you didn't retaliate. Deep down, you and Gwen both knew that you had won this battle, that Miles was now dedicated to you.

"Why would you do that, Gwen?" You heard a voice behind you, and turned to see Miles standing there, his eyes filled with disappointment.

You watched in satisfaction as Gwen's eyes widened, realizing that she had not only hurt you but also jeopardized her chances with Miles. She had unknowingly made it even easier for you to snatch his affection away from her.

"Miles, I..." Gwen stammered, unable to find the right words to justify her actions.

"Why would you hit her?" Miles asked, his voice filled with a mix of anger and hurt.

"You didn't hear what she said, Miles. She's trying to tear us apart. You were mine," Gwen spewed out, desperately clinging to her fading hopes.

"Yours? I'm not some object, Gwen," Miles retorted, his voice laced with disappointment. "Is that why you brought her outside? To hit her?"

A heavy silence hung in the air as Gwen struggled to find an explanation, her words failing her. The truth had been laid bare, and Miles saw her for who she truly was.

"Save it, Gwen," Miles said, his voice firm. "You just showed me the type of person you really are. I've been pining after you for months, and you always brushed me off. But now, now I have someone who actually likes me back."

With those words, he took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

You looked at Gwen, a smug look on your face as you squeezed Miles' hand tighter.

"You don't mean that, Miles."Gwen said.

"Yes, I do," Miles turned to you. "She likes me back, and she's the most caring, sweetest, funniest person in this dimension and every other," Miles said, making you tear up a bit, your lip bottom poking out.

"You're so cute when you do that," Miles said.

Gwen watched as her heart slowly broke. She had played with Miles,but now she had lost the game. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She should be the one he said all those things to. The tears pricked her eyes.

"Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?" The words echoed in Gwen's head, the final blow that made her tears roll down her face.

"Of course, I will, papa," you said, jumping on Miles and giving him a tight hug before pulling back and giving him a big kiss, your first one in front of his former crush.

You and Miles turned to Gwen, watching as she continued to cry.

"You should go, Gwen," you said, your heart aching a bit for the girl, but not a lot.

Miles grabbed your hand as the two of you walked off toward the stairwell, leaving Gwen behind.

#neteyamsmunch #neteyamsmunch fics #breeandhermunches #breeandhermunchesfics #miles morales x reader #miles morales fic #miles morales one shot #miles morales angst #miles morales atsv #miles morales imagine #miles morales earth 1610 #miles morales foreva #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales fluff #miles morales x you #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x black!reader #Spotify #miles molares #earth 42 miles x reader

[madschiavelique]

Hello! I saw your rules so I decided to I guess rerequest in the way you asked. I was wondering if you could write about a female reader coming in one day with a sundress and Miguel just goes absolutely feral. He’s just trying to keep it professionally but ends up failing and just going ham on the reader

OMG anon i'm kissing your brain hehehehe (summer is killing us all besties : please don't forget to hydrate yourself <3)

summary : miguel sees you in a sundress

content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, fingering, biting and marking, this man is so in love with you, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, praise word count : 1,6k

Summer had arrived, and as in most dimensions, except for the apocalyptic two or three where everything was frozen or the weather had simply declined with little chance of a return, it was hot.

And although the air-conditioning was in every room and corridor of the spider society, that in no way prevented members from dressing a little more lightly, although some might find this a sign of a lack of professionalism, one in particular, needless to mention, whose name began with Mi and ended with Guel.

Today was a fairly hot day, and all the spiders were practically fighting for ice cubes, a spot of coolness that would bring them comfort. Many of them were dressed in shorts, a variety of shirts, t-shirts, skirts and even tank tops.

So you seized the opportunity and put on a summer dress. It was charming, in your favourite colour, not too long and not too short, stopping just above the knees, with a beautifully plunging neckline to show off your curves. It was light, incredibly comfortable to wear, and needless to say that in spider society, it was a change to see you like this.

Like most of the members, people were used to seeing you in your suit, or in civilian clothes that could be considered professional. But this dress? It was a little ray of freshness.

Miguel was chatting in the cafeteria with Jessica and Peter, all having a serious discussion that you were supposed to join. You entered the cafeteria, looking around for them.

"Oh, hey over here!" called Peter to you with a smile, "Oh. My. God. What's the occasion for you dressing like that?"

Miguel, who until now had been stubbornly focused on getting Peter to stand still for this meeting, huffed before turning his head and...

He became static, his breath caught, his eyes wide open as he watched you come towards him. All the others were oysters, and you were a pearl: the best of them all, the most beautiful, the purest.

You offered a gentle smile as you came closer, and his lips parted slightly as the gesture gave him the warmth of thousands of sunbeams.

"It's true that you look ravishing, cutie," Jess admitted as you sat down next to Miguel, facing the other two on the opposite side of the table. "What's the occasion?" she repeated after Peter's question.

"Yeah," said Miguel, clearing his throat as he straightened up and pretended to keep a straight face, "what's the occasion?

You gave them all a small, smiling laugh.

"Nothing in particular, I'm just trying to beat the heat," you said as you took your seat, "why? I shouldn't have?" The possibility that your attire might pose a problem in maintaining the balance of the multiverse hadn't occurred to you.

"No!" The strength with which Miguel denied this surprised you all.

He swallowed, his sentence had come out a little stronger and a little more involved than he had intended.

"No," he pulled himself together as he took on his usual grumpy tone that everyone knew well, "although it's a lack of professionalism, we're not going so far as to prevent your freedom of clothing in the Society."

Well caught up, he thought as he brought his glass of water to his lips. Around the table, he was the only one wearing his suit. Because it was made of pixels and produced by a refined technological composite, he didn't suffer from the heat. Jess was wearing a t-shirt and cycling shorts, Peter a shirt and trousers, and you your summer dress.

Jess and Peter exchanged a quick glance, a mischievous smile stretching across their lips. Most of the elite and close teammates knew about your relationship with Miguel, and although he wasn't always the most public about your relationship, he cared about you immensely, and they both could only imagine the effect you were having on him.

"So, what did I miss?" you asked.

Jess started to explain the situation, but Miguel wasn't really listening. His eyes were obviously riveted on you, and even when he tried to refocus on the conversation, his thoughts and eyes were redirected in your direction as if magnetised.

You were... radiant, beautiful, and... for a moment his eyes went down to the bench you were sharing: the skirt part of your dress was slightly pleated, exposing the skin of your slightly spread thighs, sinking into the space where your cunt was.

He suddenly had the urge to slide his hand over your soft skin, to press it between his fingers and see the bounce of it brimming over under the grip of his hand.

And your cleavage was showing your bare skin, and he wanted to kiss your neck, to nibble your collarbone as he kissed down to the hollow of your breasts...

Keeping his hands to himself was becoming complicated, every little movement you made, even if it was just to readjust your sleeve over your shoulder, was becoming intoxicating. How was it possible to become even hotter by wearing more clothes?

His professionalism really started to take a hit when your leg inadvertently brushed against his, a shiver running down his spine.

But he couldn't touch you here, there was no tablecloth at this cafeteria table that could conceal his desires.

How he longed to do it, even if it was just to touch your thigh with his fingers, to run his hands over your sublimely covered body and to-

"Miguel? Can you remind us about what the last reports stipulated considering the last anomaly?" asked Peter, bursting Miguel's thought bubble, "I can't remember it for the life of me, it must be the heat." he complained. "What do you guys say we postpone this meeting? I can't think straight no matter how many fresh cocktails i drink."

It was true that the glasses had accumulated on Peter's side. A sigh escaped Jessica's lips.

" I regret to say it, but I agree. We can't think properly with the temperature."

Tell me about it, thought Miguel. He didn't care about the temperature, the real distraction was you. He exchanged a glance with you, and you looked at him with a small smile, waiting for his answer.

"Good," he said, simply nodding. "I won't detain you, you can leave."

Peter let out a small chirp, he and Jess getting up from the table to leave. Once away, you turned to Miguel, tilting your head to the side in playful puzzlement.

"The great Miguel O'Hara closing a meeting like that? Summer really does have its magic."

If summer could let him see you every day in that outfit, he'd make sure it lasted forever. His eyes roamed your silhouette again, biting the inside of his cheek. His hand skimmed the side of your leg, hovering gently over it until he placed it on the inside of your thigh, pressing.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, his eyes returning to yours.

"I'm guessing you like the dress," you said more softly.

"Very," he replied simply.

His behaviour was becoming less and less... acceptable in public. So he took your hand and led you out of the cafeteria. Would he be able to wait until you returned to his quarters ? Probably not.

But he knew every nook and cranny of the building, it was his, so you passed down one corridor, then two, then three, until you came to an alleyway you'd never seen before, darkened by the lack of activity.

He glanced in each direction, then immediately came to press you against the first wall you came to, kissing you hungrily.

"That dress is going to be the death of me," he murmured as he came to kiss your cheek followed by your neck, his hands placed on your waist and thigh as he feasted on your skin.

His hand slid up your leg, gripping the warm skin of your thigh as you let out a moan. His fingers moved up your inner thigh almost hastily, unable to contain his need to touch you.

"You're so pretty," he breathed as he came back to kiss you, "all pretty for me, nena."

His fingers reached the fabric of your panties, your body arching. His fingers went under the elastic of the latter and down to your cunt.

"Tengo la novia más linda del mundo," he whispered, kissing the back of your neck, tracing the line of your pulse as he made circular movements around your clit. "Such a beautiful body," he inserted a finger inside you, making you whine softly, "such a beautiful voice," your wetness was starting to stick to his hand. "And it's all mine."

With his other hand, he shifted the short sleeve of your dress, exposing more of your shoulder and placing soft pecks on it. His lips caressed your skin, and his fangs grazed it as he added a second finger.

He was curving his fingers in a sublime way, the strokes combining perfectly with the undulations he was making and hitting the perfect spot.

He kissed the skin of your shoulder, sucking it until it left a bluish mark.

"All mine," he repeated in a murmur as he ran his tongue over the mark he'd just made.

Your moans multiplied, breath hitching, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm, the hot cloud in your lower belly and back spreading.

"Come nena, let me see your pretty face when you do," he said, kissing you a little before pulling back and watching you with his drunken eyes.

You came, your legs all wobbly as Miguel's hand came to rest on your back to keep you upright. He kissed your temple and forehead, calming you gently.

"You're a dream," he said, covering the mark he'd left on your skin with your sleeve as you trembled, only he was aware of the hold he had over you.

Needless to say, from that day on in the summer, the air-conditioning became suspiciously faulty, because he had every intention of seeing you wearing that dress again.

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎ #mads' requests ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎ #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv smut #miguel spiderman #miguel atsv #miguel spiderverse

[munson-blurbs]

hii 🫶🏻 i've had this idea of the reader and eddie being at a halloween party and her drink getting spiked (roofied or wtv) and like eddie comes to the rescue and takes care of her - enemies to slight lovers pls!! have a good day/night :))

Hi! I changed it a bit so that her drink was spiked with extra booze, but I kept it enemies-to-lovers!

Warnings: underage drinking (everyone is over 18 but under 21), reader's drink gets spiked, drunkenness, brief mention of Eddie dealing, Billy Hargrove needs his own warning tbh, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love

WC: 2.5k

Thank you so much to @corroded-hellfire @lofaewrites and @manda-panda-monium for their help! Y'all made this fic much stronger, and I am indebted to you.

--

A brief, incomplete list of activities you enjoy: grabbing coffee with a few friends, walks down by Lover’s Lake powered by whatever cassette you’ve jammed into your WalkMan, reading a good book and curling up in the sunlight streaming through your bedroom window.

A brief, incomplete list of activities you despise: Steve Harrington’s house parties.

The bass from the stereo has the entire downstairs shaking, and you wince as you pass by it and make your way to Nancy. She’s the reason why you’ve started coming to these stupid things, and although Steve isn’t as big of a tool as you’d previously thought, it doesn’t make other people more tolerable.

“You having a good time?” Nancy asks now, bouncing along with the music. Her eyes are hazy with booze; her half-filled cup of the jungle juice concoction is clearly far from her first of the evening.

You shrug, hitching your bag close to your shoulder as a beast of a man in a letterman jacket pushes his way through the crowd. “Not really.”

“Cool, awesome!” Nancy chirps, senses compromised by the constant flow of alcohol and the blasting music. 

Steve has his arm around her waist, pressing chaste kisses to her neck. He looks up at you for just a second and frowns. “Where’s your drink?”

You jingle the car keys you’ve had clenched in your fist the whole night, ready to make a getaway as early as you can. “Designated driver. Unless you want José Cuervo behind the wheel tonight,” you raise your brows as you motion to your friend.

Steve shakes his head. “Nance is gonna stay here with me tonight,” he tells you, taking Nancy’s cup from her hand and placing it in yours. “She’s had enough, anyway. So, uh, go crazy.”

Go crazy. It’s tempting to dull the roar of the dozen or so conversations worming their way into your consciousness. And no doubt it’ll be easier to slap a fake smile on your face and even join one of them. But you still have to get home somehow, and the thought of asking either of your overbearing parents for a ride home from a party has your stomach in knots, especially considering you’d told them you were going to the library and sleeping at the Wheeler’s. 

Instead of going crazy, you toss the couple a frustrated eye roll, but they’re both too enmeshed in their puppy love for each other to catch it. Home. You just need to get home, snug in your own bed, away from–

“Hey, Goody Two-Shoes!” Billy Hargrove flings his muscular arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him despite your clear lack of interest. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad etiquette to bring down the party vibe?”

 “Get offa me,” you grumble, but his strength easily overpowers yours. 

“What you need,” he continues, stifling a beer-scented belch, “is to fuckin’ loosen up.” He punctuates his statement by placing one beefy hand on each of your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. He stumbles a bit in his drunken state, and you seize the opportunity to step away from him.

The entire encounter makes the drink in your hand even more tempting, and you throw it back without another thought. Your throat burns with the sting of alcohol, and you wince reflexively. Jeez, if this is what Nancy’s been drinking all night, no wonder she’s wasted, you think, grateful that you only had half of the cup.

Eddie Munson arrives when the party is in full swing, lunch box of illicit substances gripped tight in his hands. He hates spending time with these jockstraps outside of school, but parties are a great way to make some extra cash, and rich douchebags like King Steve practically throw the money at him, too drunk and lazy to actually count it out.

He sees you out of the corner of his eye, swaying to the music alongside Billy Hargrove. You’re leaning into him, with his hand around your waist pulling you into him. You laugh loudly, though it doesn’t appear that Billy’s said anything.

What a weird pair, Eddie muses, comparing your usual type-A, pain-in-the-ass, teacher’s pet personality with Billy’s thoughtlessness and indifference. He watches as Billy nonchalantly refills your drink and grabs your backside.

When Billy notices Eddie, he props you against the counter and murmurs something before staggering over to buy something. “What do you have tonight, Munson?”

“The usual,” Eddie replies casually, placing the tin box on the kitchen table and flipping it open. “So, uh, looks like Goody-Two Shoes is having a good time.”

Billy chuckles, twirling a toothpick across his lips. It’s a menacing laugh, and Eddie doesn’t care for the sound of it. “Yeah, she needed a little help, but I took care of it.”

He really doesn’t like that. “What do you mean?”

“Slipped a little extra in her drink when she wasn’t looking,” Billy whispers, flashing Eddie a now-empty mini bottle of tequila. “Shit was pretty strong to begin with, but she’s definitely feeling it now.”

“You spiked her drink?” Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and he snaps the lunch box shut. When Billy just laughs again, Eddie shoves him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Billy holds his hands up in defense. “Hey, man, you can’t blame a guy for doing what he has to do to get laid. Especially when it’s someone as uptight as her.”

Rage pounds in Eddie’s ears, and he barely hears anything after that. He marches towards you, fists clenched. You weren’t his favorite person, and he wasn’t yours–not after what happened in health last year–but he’d be damned if he let you get taken advantage of.

“Hey,” he says softly, tapping your shoulder to grab your attention. “Let me get you home.”

You sloppily shake your head, jungle juice sloshing over the side of the cup. “‘M fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He’s insistent, tone much harsher than his usual carelessness. “You’re absolutely plastered, and I’m taking you home.” He extends his hand, and you reluctantly take it, letting him lead you to his van. Your feet are bricks beneath you, and you giggle involuntarily as you trip over them.

“Munson, what the fuck?” Billy calls out, charging over. His own stride isn’t much more graceful than yours; the Keg Stand Champion having reclaimed his title earlier in the evening. “Get your own girl.” He reaches for your bicep to tug you away, but Eddie’s faster, which only makes the jock’s eyes stonier. “Fucking freak!” he calls out, quickly downing another plastic cup of beer.

Your eyelids begin to close, and slurred words leave your lips. “Whas’ goin’ on? Why’s Billy shhh-so mad?”

Eddie ignores your question, not wanting to slow down and risk Billy catching up to you. Once he’s safely got you in the passenger seat, he starts the ignition and glances at where you’re leaning against the window. “Where to?”

“Home.”

“Right, and, uh…where might that be?”

You shrug, body heavier with sleep by the second. “Dunno.”

“Like an address, or a general direction…anything?” Eddie drums his ringed fingers against the steering wheel. He sighs and throws the van in reverse when you shake your head. “All right, looks like you’re staying at mine.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, stealing a peek at you every minute or so. You’re sleeping, soft snores punctuating the otherwise silent ride. He winces as he goes over a bump and puts his arm out to prevent you from falling against the dashboard. 

Twenty minutes later—it would have been fifteen, but he drove slowly to prevent jostling you too much—he’s pulling up to his trailer. “Welcome to Casa Munson.” He opens his door with a dramatic grunt and shuffles around to your side. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.” If any of the neighbors see him, they’ll assume the worst, but it’s either that or have you sleep in the van. 

The last thing you remember is mumbling about needing a bed and Eddie leading you to his with an offhand comment about not knowing where the stains are from. When you wake the next morning, a jackhammer has replaced your brain and your throat is filled with bile. 

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, pulling your sheet up over your eyes to shield them from the sun. Except this isn’t the baby pink set your mom bought you from Wal-Mart. These sheets are white and smell like cigarettes, weed, and drugstore cologne. The realization that this isn’t your room has you jolting up in bed despite your body’s protests. “What the hell?”

“Good morning to you, too,” a voice grumbles from below. You look down to see Eddie Munson laying on the floor, a towel rolled below his head in a makeshift pillow. A throw blanket covers from his shoulders to just above his ankles, leaving his sweat sock-clad feet exposed. “There’s some water and pretzels next to you, and I can grab Advil if you need.”

You nod, squeezing your eyelids together at the pain the slight head movement causes. “Yes, please.” He returns with the medicine, and you eagerly swallow it with a gulp of water. A quick assessment assures you that your clothes are still on, but you still have to ask, “did we…”

“Nope. No way. Not even a little.” He takes a seat next to you, offering the pretzel canister. Though your stomach is churning, you need something to absorb the medicine, so you take a handful and carefully munch on them. “But you had quite the offer last night.”

“Wha—?”

“Hargrove spiked your drink to get you in bed,” he explains. His mop of curls is disheveled from tossing and turning, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “And, uh, not to sleep.”

“Yeah, I gathered that,” you mutter. A fresh wave of nausea washes over you, and it’s not from the hangover. Your memories are muddled, but you can vaguely piece the night together: Nancy and Steve, the unfinished drink, Billy’s arm around you… “We left before he could do anything, right?”

Eddie nods, stealing the plastic water bottle from your grasp and taking a swig. He swishes it around his mouth before answering. “Got you outta there before he could even cop a feel.”

You grimace at his brazen response. “Well, um, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” You start to stand up, fumbling for your keys in your bag when you remember. “Fuck, my car’s still at Steve’s.”

“I can take you,” Eddie offers, grabbing the jeans he’d haphazardly flung over his desk chair. 

“Nah, s’okay. I can walk.”

“Seriously?” He throws his hands in the air, utterly exasperated with you. “You’d rather walk three miles back to Harrington’s—hungover as shit…looking like that,” he gestures vaguely at your smeared makeup and bloodshot eyes, “than take a ride from me?”

You remain quiet, so he proceeds with his rant. 

“Y’know, when you ditched me last year, I figured you weren’t, like, into me or whatever. But, Christ, what did I do to make you hate my guts?”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “I ditched you?” The thunderous headache makes it difficult to wrack your brain for the memory, but you definitely would recall ditching Eddie Munson. “I never did that.”

“Last April,” he begins, tone clipped and direct, “the night we were supposed to finish our health project—”

“You ditched me.”

He shakes his head. “Uh, no. I invited you to see my band play and then we would finish the project after—which you agreed to—and then you never showed.”

“No, you told me, and I quote, ‘Corroded Coffin has a gig at The Hideout at 8, and we can put the poster together after we play.”

“Exactly!”

“Exactly what?” It hurts to roll your eyes, but you do it anyway just to emphasize the absurdity of the situation. “That wasn’t an invitation; that was just you telling me what time the show starts.”

“What time it starts,” he says slowly, as though explaining it to a child. “If I just wanted to meet up for the project, I would’ve told you what time it ends.” His eyes narrow. “Do you really think I spent all that time doing research with you just to flake when we got to do the creative part?”

The missing pieces shift into the puzzle. You’d been thrown off when Eddie had failed to show that night; you’d genuinely thought the two of you had forged some kind of friendship during your evenings at the Hawkins Library. But when midnight had rolled around, you’d given up altogether, gathered your notes, and made the poster alone. 

“I…I didn’t know…” you muse, mouth drier than it was before you’d drank water. “I thought you forgot, or didn’t care…” You press a tooth into your bottom lip and gnaw at the chapped skin. “Trust me, I never would’ve ditched the guy I—”

You’d tried to cut yourself off before Eddie catches what you’d inadvertently implied, but it’s too late. “The guy you…” he gently goads. When you don’t answer, he sits on the bed next to you and knocks his knee against yours. “Would it help if I told you that you’re the girl I…” He tilts his head and peers at you through his deep brown eyes.

“Me?!” There’s no way he’s serious; you brace yourself for the ‘gotcha’ or some other punchline he’ll inevitably toss your way.

To your surprise, there is none. “What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a total sucker for a goody-two shoes.” He stands up again, crossing his arms over his chest and pacing back and forth in the tiny room. “So, since I’m the guy that you…and you’re the girl that I…can I interest you in some of the finest hangover food this town has to offer?”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” You grimace at the tang of last night’s tequila that sticks to your molars. “Unless you also happen to be into girls with wicked morning breath.”

He chuckles, a true and hearty laugh, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. “Spare toothbrush is in the top drawer,” he says, pointing towards the bathroom. 

Once minty freshness has replaced stale booze, you wash the remnants of your makeup off of your face. You look a bit better; tired and hungover, but better.

Eddie’s dressed in ripped jeans and a faded concert tee, keys clenched in his palm. “Ready?” he asks, leaning against the bedroom doorway.

“Mhm.” You feel his hand ghost the small of your back as he leads you towards the front door, sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

“Hey, by the way?” 

When you turn around, his lips are on yours. It’s soft and sweet, just a bit more than a peck, but you can tell it took every ounce of courage for him to do it. You both take a small step back, swapping shy grins.  

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

You take his empty hand and lace your fingers with his. “Does Corroded Coffin still play at the Hideout?”

“Every Tuesday at 8.”

“I’ll be there.”

--

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

[yangfleurs]

stray kids: they call you clingy (pt.2)

hyung line

pt.1

chan

"hyung, what the hell?” changbin bursted through the studio door, earning a groan from chan.

“why would you send y/n to the studio when you know we have a deadline by the end of the week, changbin? I’m not a little kid that needs to be coddled, and I definitely do not have the time for anymore interruptions.” chan grumbled, not once looking away from the computer screen in front of him.

“hyung, you can’t keep working like this, you know it’s not doing you any good,” he scolded. “and whatever you said to y/n, you better apologize soon. I’ve never seen her look so distraught.” he sighed.

chan sighed too, feeling guilty for sending you away so abruptly.

“and I know you aren’t great at keeping track of time, but do you really think it was a good idea to send y/n to walk home after sundown and without their jacket at that?” changbin said, pointing to your long-forgotten jacket sitting on the studio couch.

the guilt chan felt was immediately replaced by a deep sense of panic as he thought about you walking home in the dark of the night completely exposed to the elements and without him there to keep you safe. he scrambled out of his seat for the first time all day, grabbing your jacket and the food you made.

“you don’t even have to ask. me and jisung will wrap up whatever you’ve got, just trust us.” changbin smiled, moving out of the frame of the door so chan could leave. he thanked him quickly before rushing out, hoping you hadn’t gotten too far away from the building just yet.

the cold air that greeted him as he ran out immediately made his heart sink. he hurried towards the direction of your apartment, calling you as he ran. his worry only grew as his calls all immediately went to voicemail. it had grown completely dark around him and you were nowhere to be found. the panic made him sick to his stomach, but he kept looking around frantically for you. he called your name loudly, earning a few strange looks from the people he passed but he could care less; his only concern right now was you.

♡♡♡

the reason chan couldn’t find you right now was because you didn’t head home. you knew he would come to his senses in no time---he was always the sensitive type, picking up on his mistakes quickly and apologizing equally as fast. but you needed to be alone to process your feelings, so instead of going where you knew he’d go first, you walked yourself to the place you’d planned on going with him---the han river park. you sighed, walking into a convenience store and grabbing yourself a hot drink. you paid for it quickly before sitting down at a bench, trying to brave the cold wind biting at your face. it was a lot better a little while ago, when you wanted to come here and walk with chan. but those plans were far gone.

“what’s a pretty girl like yourself doing here so late?” a voice asked you. you looked up and were met with an older man, he looked unkempt, patchy stubble covering his face as he swung around a brown-toned beer bottle. you gulped, not knowing how to reply.

“I’m fucking talking to you, answer me!” he spat angrily, going to grab your wrist. you yelped moving away from the man, terrified and still unsure of what to do. he was taller than you and could easily overtake you if you tried to run. you shook as he kept screaming at you; whatever he had in strength, he lacked in motor functions, making it incredibly easy for you to dodge him as he chased after you in the little space around the bench.

“y/n! oh thank god, I was so worried!” chan yelled as you ran over to him.

“help.” you whispered as you both noticed the drunk man plod over to where you were. chan wrapped your jacket around your shoulders and hugged you reassuringly before pushing you behind him.

“and who’s this? I just asked why you were alone so late, baby, you didn’t need to involved your friend here.” he slurred, trying to dodge chan to talk to you.

“boyfriend. she was waiting for me so do us all a favor and leave us the hell alone before I have to call the police.” he said, clearly trying to keep his rage at bay. the man muttered a few cusses under his breath before relenting, making both you and chan take a breath of relief.

“let’s go home,” he turned to face you. “we have a lot to talk about.” he said with an apologetic smile on his face. you only nodded as you began to walk beside him.

you walked in silence for a while, waiting for chan to inevitably burst in profuse apologies at any given moment.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t mean anything I said. you’re not clingy and there’s nothing in the world I appreciate more than the attention you pay in making sure I take care of myself,” he stopped walking to look you in the eyes. “and I couldn’t be more lucky to have someone like you who’s always looking out for me and worrying about my well-being. there’s no excuse for the way I reacted today but I hope you know that I regret it so much and I’ll do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” he finished talking, every single word he said dripping with sincerity.

“thank you. I get that you’re busy, but we should both working on seeing things from the other’s perspectives going forward, okay?” you said, earning a nod from chan.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked meekly. you nod enthusiastically. “I love you.” he grinned.

“I love you, too.” you replied with a chuckle.

“can we hold hands now?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. you reached out your hand for his, letting him intertwine his finger with yours. he pulled your connected hands towards him, forcing you closer to him as you walked home, safe and content in each other’s presence. he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I’m gonna inhale all of the pumpkin porridge when we get home.” he whispered as he pulled away, making you burst into a fit of laughter.

lino

"I’m going to give it to you straight; the cut in your hand is quite deep and you’ll need stitches,” the doctor told you as she put pressure on your wound to maintain the bleeding. “you’re absolutely sure you don’t want your guardian here? not to alarm you, but it’ll be hard to do anything, especially because you said this is your dominant hand.” she asked, clearly concerned for you.

“I’m sure, doctor.” you said with a nod.

“I understand. I will proceed since you’re losing a lot of blood and I want this situation under control as soon as possible, but I believe it’s in your best interest to call someone, even if it’s not your guardian, to handle the paperwork since you won’t be able to write.” she said firmly. you nodded, giving her the okay to stitch the cut in your hand. the doctor finished stitching in no time and dressed your wound as well, giving you careful instructions so you would be able to do it yourself at home. she left soon after, reminding you about the paperwork you need to have completed. you called chan, knowing it was his day off and he’d pick up.

“hey y/n, wasn’t expecting a call from you, what’s up?” he asked immediately.

“I know it’s your day off and I feel so terrible for asking, but could you come to the hospital? It’s nothing crazy but I need someone to fill out some paperwork for me.” you informed him, trying to sound nonchalant so as to not stress him out.

“hospital? what’s wrong? are you sick or hurt?” he bombarded you with questions. “and why are you calling me and not minho? did you guys fight?” he finally asked suspiciously.

“it’s a long story and I’m so tired, chris. can you please come? or send someone else if you’re busy,” you pause before adding, “but not minho. we’re not in a good place right now.” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“okay, I’ll be there in fifteen. but you have to tell me everything when I get there, okay?” he relented, making you agree before hanging up.

chan showed up soon after, finding you quickly in the emergency room with all of your paperwork in his hands.

“so you hurt yourself.” he said to himself, getting closer to you to inspect the damage.

“yeah.” you whispered, gently tugging your hand away from him, embarrassed.

“okay spill before I start jumping to conclusions. the last thing I want to do is assume anything about either one of you.” he said with heavy concern in his tone.

you recapped the whole night to him, everything from lino pushing you off of him to him treating you like a clingy, helpless child to how the cut happened in the first place. chan listened diligently, offering hums of understanding as he filled out your paperwork.

“I can talk to him for you if you want, y/n. this is a tough situation for both of you, I could knock some sense in to him.” he suggested softly.

“thanks for the offer, but I’m not reaching out first through you. he fucked up, he needs to figure that out on his own terms.” you paused, letting out a deep breath. “and I’m kind of embarrassed by all of this and I don’t need him rubbing it in my face, especially after everything from tonight. promise me you won’t tell him?”

“y/n---”

“chris, please. just this once. if you tell him, he’ll rush over and I already feel so stupid because of what happened earlier. I don’t want to face him right now.” you pleaded with him.

he was quiet for a while as he filled out the last section of the paper work. he released a deep breath he had unknowingly been holding in before finally agreeing. “I’ll stay out of it because you want me to, y/n. but the offer stands in case you change your time at any point. I care about both of you,” he patted your back reassuringly. “now, let’s get you home.” he said, getting up.

he drove you home in silence, insisting he should drive since your hand’s hurt. you fought sleep the entire way back; it was already 2 a.m. and you were beyond exhausted.

“hey, we’re here.” you heard chan say as he shook your arm. you shot up out of your sleepiness, heading towards your home with chan following.

“I’m gonna help you change the bandages and then leave, okay?” he told you as you unlocked your apartment door. you nodded, yawning. you felt a touch of disappointment as you walked in, seeing the still-shattered vase on the ground as well as a little, dried up pool of your blood, meaning lino really hadn’t come home.

chan didn’t let you think about it for too long though, as he cleaned and dressed your wound quickly before letting you off to wash up and go to sleep.

“I’m gonna clean up the rest of the vase and then head home. but call me if you need anything, y/n. I don’t sleep till late into the night and you only live 5 minutes away so don’t feel bad.” he reassured you. “now go to sleep, I’ll see you later.” he shooed you away. you didn’t fight him, too exhausted to say much more than a “thank you.”

♡♡♡

the next morning, you felt terrible; this time, not just emotionally, but physically as well. the numbing cream from the stitches had worn off entirely, making your entire hand pulse in pain. you rummaged through your medicine cabinet looking for ibuprofen. you groaned in frustration trying to open the little twist cap of the bottle with your one hand with no success. you gave up after a few tries, sitting down on your kitchen floor and letting out a small scream you’d held in for too long. you were hurting on so many different levels and you began to truly feel like you were just a needy, clingy child. you couldn’t even open a fucking pill bottle or change your own bandages by yourself, so what the hell does that make you other than pathetic?

you started crying. what else could you do? you felt so incapable of even the most basic tasks and despite chan’s kind offer to help you being there, you felt too awful to ask him for more help. so you would just have to endure your pain. you stayed like that for another half an hour, taking deep breaths to distract yourself from it.

“y/n? where are you? baby?” you heard lino calling for you as he quickly searched your small apartment.

you wiped your tears quickly, scrambling up and hiding your hand behind your back. you heard his steps growing closer and in no time, he was standing in front of you. you kept your gaze down, still upset and embarrassed.

“good morning, he said, wrapping his arms around you before you got a chance to protest. his arm put pressure on your wound, making you hiss in pain loudly. you pushed him off, tears glazing your eyes as a reflex.

“what--what’s the matter? is this about last night? I know we still have to talk about it but I just missed---” his words trailed off as he finally noticed you holding your hand behind you. “y/n, what’s wrong? did something happen to your hand?” he asked, his voice dripping with concern. he walked closer to you, making you immediately stumble backwards, trying to get away from his touch. the hurt in his eyes was palpable, making your heart hurt too.

“I’m okay.” you mumbled quietly, still not looking up to meet his eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” he said back. “at least look at me, baby, hm?” he gently coaxed you.

you took a deep breath, before looking into his eyes. he looked exhausted, obvious pain relief patches on the back of his neck and peeking out from under his shirt and dark circles around his eyes. and the way he frowned when you made eye contact told you you didn’t look much better. you relaxed inadvertently under his soft gaze; but you relaxed a little too much, revealing part of your bandaged hand to him.

"show me your hand?” he asked. he was well-aware of the atmosphere he’d created last night and so he didn’t push like he normally would’ve. the last thing he wanted to do was add insult to injury now.

“I’m really fine. could you just open the pain meds for me?” you asked, wincing in pain every time your hand moved. he did as you asked without hesitation, pouring you a cup of water and opening the bottle of pills. you took the meds wordlessly, finally thanking him before walking out of the kitchen. he followed you out like a lost puppy, finally catching a glimpse of your entire hand.

“you have to change the bandages, don’t you? let me do it.” he quickly said when he noticed you unwrapping the ones from last night. you wanted to protest, but you knew it would be less painless if someone else did it for you. you let him do it without putting up a fight.

“this will sting, squeeze my arm if it’s too much,” he said, kneeling on the ground as you sat on the couch. he wiped the wound effectively and as quickly as possible, wincing when you whimpered as if he was the one in pain. “good, you did good, baby.” he smiled gently. he put on some ointment and wrapped your hand up in new bandages.

“now let’s talk. what happened?” he questioned.

“I think we need to talk about what happened before first,” you muttered. “you really hurt me, you know?” your voice wavered as you held back tears. despite everything that’s happened in the short time, the wounds on your heart were still fresh, just as fresh as the one in your palm.

“I was just so tired and the guys kept messing up and they weren’t taking practice seriously,” he sighed. “ but I know it’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I’m sorry.” he played with his fingers, keeping his head down and not looking at you.

“I know you are, but,” you gulped. “I can’t help but feel like you meant it all. am I really too clingy? do I act desperate for your attention? do you take care of me because you want to or because you feel like you have to?” you looked away, not wanting to show lino there were tears spilling down your face. neither one of you said anything for a few minutes. the silence started chipping away at your heart, confirming your concerns. 

that was until you heard sniffles coming from next to you. you turned to look at him and sure enough, he was looking down with little tear drop marks littering the fabric of his pants. “I can’t believe I made you feel like that,” his voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t deserve you at all.” he choked back a sob, now turning his face the other way so you couldn’t see him cry.

“don’t say that,” you cried. “you hurt me, that doesn’t change the fact that I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” he sniffled, closing the space between you and kissing you messily. you both giggled into the kiss, laughing at the absurdity of it all. you pulled away after a while but stayed stuck to each other’s sides, him carefully adjusting so you could put your hand down on his leg comfortably. after a moment, you spoke.

“did chan send you?” you mumbled against his chest.

“said I’d lose the love of my life if I don’t get my shit together,” he chuckled. “he has such a way with words.” you both laughed, snuggling closer.

changbin

you were freezing as you walked into your apartment. it hadn’t been this quiet in years; without changbin’s naturally loud voice ringing throughout your home, it was almost uncomfortably silent. you stripped out of your soaking wet clothes right there in your living room, not wanting to trail water around. you were exhausted suddenly, the emotional exhaustion had quickly manifested into physical exhaustion and you sighed deeply. you didn’t even bother to shower, just wiping yourself down and drying your hair before falling into your bed. despite being under the duvet, you shivered the entire night. you chalked it up to not being used to sleeping without changbin next to you.

something you’d have to get used to now that he didn’t want you anymore. 

you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry; you’d spent the entire walk back home sobbing your heart out and now you had no more tears in you. you just sighed, tossing and turning before sleep finally overtook you.

you woke up the next morning still shivering. you had taken the day off because you thought your date with changbin would run really late but here you were, spending a day off mourning your relationship. you felt terrible, your head pounding and your throat hoarse. you knew you should probably check your temperature, but since you were always the one getting sick, only changbin really knew where it was because he would constantly misplace it.

you ignored how sick you felt and got to work. the quicker you got rid of changbin’s things, the less time you’d have to spend lingering in the hurt. and so you packed up years of what you thought would be a forever relationship into a bin and a suitcase. your apartment felt hollow now, like it was missing changbin just as much as you were. no more healthy meals prepackaged in the fridge, no more cute sticky notes filled with “I loves yous” stuck on the fridge, no more anniversary polaroids or vulnerable letters or musky cologne on black t-shirts or souvenirs from different tour stops; you packed them all up and put them into your trunk with a handwritten note tucked into the lid.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t cry a little bit; just when you thought you had cried it all out, another set of fresh tears arose. a part of you wished he’d called and apologized right after, told you it was a misunderstanding and that he didn’t mean any of it. but it had been an entire night and morning with no call or text; you had no choice but to accept that the love of your life simply couldn’t handle you anymore.

you coughed violently as you felt a cold shiver run through your body. you didn’t have time to be sick right now; wasn’t it enough that you were an emotional wreck? you ignored it once more before driving off to the dorms. you arrived quickly and knocked on the door, praying you wouldn’t have to face changbin in your condition.

“y/n! it’s good to see you after so long, we’ve missed you,” you were greeted warmly by hyunjin. “are you coming in? changbin hyung’s not home but he should be home pretty soon.” he smiled.

you took a deep breath and mustered up a smile. “I’ve missed you guys, too” you sniffled and coughed a little. “but I’m not feeling too great right now. I’m just dropping off changbin’s stuff for him.”

hyunjin looked at you with concerned eyes. “why are you dropping off all of his things, y/n? did something happen between you two?”

“you should hear it from him. I’ll see you around, hyunjin.” you smiled at him again, turning around and leaving before he got a chance to protest. 

♡♡♡

when changbin got back to the dorms, he was first met with a very snarky hyunjin. and then he was met with boxes and a suitcase on the living room floor.

“going somewhere?” he asked hyunjin with genuine interest. 

hyunjin rolled his eyes as soon as he asked. “y/n came over.”

“did she pester you? she’s been needing a lot of attention lately, it’s getting to be a lot.” he sighed.

“hyung, I don’t know what you told y/n but she came over sick as hell and said she was dropping off your stuff.” 

“w-what?”

hyunjin just shrugged. “I’ll give you some privacy, you should probably look through the stuff, see what’s up.”

changbin carried the boxes into his room, wasting no time to go through them. it didn’t take long for him to realize it was virtually every shred of your relationship stuffed together. when he said everything he said, it was purely out of frustration; he knew he was being selfish by prioritizing his time with the boys over spending time with you. he felt his heart break at you taking his words of annoyance at face value and it just about completely shattered once he found your note.

to my love,

even if this is how it really ends, I’m grateful for what we had. even if I had known that it would end like this, I would do it all over again with you in a heartbeat. I’m sorry for all of my shortcomings getting in the way. I hope you find love and happiness with someone who loves you the way you want them to. 

yours always,

y/n

it was a short note, but it hurt changbin like someone had started taking blind punches to his heart. he sat in front of the boxes, stunned. he wiped his face, suddenly becoming aware of the tears covering his cheeks. after spending another while like that taking in the reality of it all, he scurried up from his seat on the ground, looking frantically for his phone to call you. every single one of his calls went straight to voicemail, his texts left on delivered like he’d done to you just the night prior. he’s reminded of hyunjin’s mention that you were sick, which only made him feel worse. he got up and ran out of the door, not even bothering to throw on a jacket or let hyunjin know he was headed out. he had to apologize to you before it was too late.

♡♡♡

the shivering had only gotten worse since you’d gotten home. your temperature had risen significantly and you couldn’t even muster up the energy to get up and make something to eat, not that you had much of an appetite, anyway. being soaked to the bone the night before had really done a number on you and being this sick only made you miss changbin more. he was always so good about taking care of you when you weren’t feeling well, constantly checking your temperature and wiping your forehead with a damp towel to lower it. he was always diligent about making sure you ate properly and took your medicine on time so your body could recover faster, too. and he knew you loved being held when you were under the weather so he would cuddle you despite your protests and the risk of him getting sick himself. your heart ached as you thought of how the affection from him you cherished so much was the very reason he broke up with you, making you tear up yet again. you were so weak that you fell asleep just like that, exhausted and heartbroken.

you woke up when you heard the sound of the front door slam shut. you shot up out of bed, making you grow dizzy immediately. you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizziness before forcing yourself out of bed. you took a deep breath before mustering up the strength to walk out to where the noise had come from. you steadied yourself by trailing your hand against the wall as you walked to the living room, growing more and more woozy as you kept going.

“y/n,” changbin said as he saw you turn the corner. “hey, come on, sit here.” he said, noticing your lack of balance and guiding you to the sofa.

“did I forget to pack something?” you asked weakly, leaning your head back as another shiver overtook you.

“no, no. y/n, I didn’t mean any of that last night. it’s stupid but I just wanted to spend time with the boys. I never meant to hurt you,” he gulped. “or break up with you. I’m so sorry, my love,” he said, running a hand against your cheek. “oh my god, baby, you’re burning up.” he said, shocked. he disappeared into the kitchen before rushing back to you.

“hyunjin told me you looked sick when you came by so I brought some hot pear tea and porridge. eat and then take this,” he handed over some cold syrup already measured out for you. “we’ll talk afterwards, okay?” you only hummed in response, making him frown. he could tell you had waited too long to take care of yourself, which meant you didn’t have the energy to do much of anything. he sat down next to you, grabbing the porridge and gathering a spoon of it. “open your mouth, baby. you have to eat if you want to feel better.” you didn’t have it in you to protest, simply doing as he said and letting him feed you. you ate and took your medicine in silence before falling back asleep.

♡♡♡

you woke up hours later in complete darkness and on your bed. you shuffled a little in an attempt to get up, but you soon realized you were weighed down by a familiar arm spread across you and cradling your head against their chest. you gulped, debating whether or not to confront changbin right now or to just indulge in the feeling of comfort he gives you. but the voice that came alive next to you forced you to choose the latter,

“you awake, baby?” he mumbled before resting the back of his hand on your forehead. “your fever broke, thank god.” he sighed a breath of relief, before stretching over to turn the bedside table lamp on. 

“thank you for taking care of me,” you said softly, “but I think you should go.” you looked away as you said the words.

“y/n, look at me,” he gently pulled your chin so you could be facing him, “do you really want me to go?” he whispered, vulnerability pouring out with each word.

you stayed silent for a long moment before finally reciprocating his vulnerability. “you broke up with me out of nowhere,” you sighed shakily, looking away from him again so he wouldn’t see your eyes filling with tears, “and then left me to feel heartbroken and alone all of last night and this morning. even if I wanted you to stay, I owe it to myself to ask you to leave, at least.” you said, trying to sound firm in your decision.

changbin stirred out of bed immediately, making a panic spread through you. was he really going to give up on you so easily? you knew he wasn’t the type to simply let go of something (or someone) simply because he was asked to. you were relieved though, when he reached for your hand and lead you to the edge of your bed, making you sit up. he kneeled in front of you, hugging your legs and holding your hand tightly.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you and for leaving you hanging and for not showing up to our first date in a long time for such a stupid reason. but y/n, I love you. so much. even when I say stupid things and make bad decisions and accidentally hurt you, I love you. and I don’t want to live my life with anyone else but you by my side.” he said with full sincerity, squeezing your hand as his eyes glazed over.

your eyes mirrored his, and you could feel your resolve completely shatter as you looked down at him. “god, you’re the worst,” you chuckled incredulously as your eyes glazed over, “but I love you, too. too much for my own good.” you sighed, looking up and smiling a little.

“let me make it up to you?” he asked you sweetly, standing up with his hand still holding yours. you stood up with him, intrigued, “no, baby, you sit down and close your eyes, okay?”

you nodded, shutting your eyes tightly as soon as he asked you to. you heard some shuffling before you felt changbin’s presence in front of you again.

“okay, open your eyes.” he said softly. you’re met with changbin kneeling in front of you once again, this time on one knee and with a ring box in his hand. he opened it and asked the question.

“I was going to wait to do this. I wanted to plan something big and extravagant and make it a whole thing, but now feels so right. because I don’t ever want you to doubt my intentions with you, with this relationship. I want you, for the rest of our lives, y/n. will you marry me?” he asked sheepishly.

you answered yes so quickly you surprised yourself a little, wrapping your arms around changbin with tears, this time, happy ones, pooling in both of your eyes.

“oh, one more thing,” he said, rushing out of the room and coming back with a very obviously homemade cake. it read “sorry...also marry me?” on the top in pink frosting, making you snort in laughter.

“that would’ve been really awkward if I didn’t forgive you for last night, huh?” you chuckled, making changbin nudge you before he joined you in laughter.

hyunjin

after reassuring felix a million times that you were fine, you finally started walking home. you decided to take the long way, wanting to empty your thoughts and enjoy the crisp winter air surrounding you. 

your cheeks were still hot from the humiliation you’d faced just a few moments ago and you couldn’t help but replay the moment again and again. how could hyunjin say those things to you? when you regularly adjusted your own schedule to spend quality time with him and his best friends? the more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off.

you scoffed a little to yourself, quietly cursing at hyunjin in your mind when you notice you’re just short of a block away from one of your favorite cafes. it was one you went to a lot to study at before you moved away and closer to the heart of the city. you walked in, silently hoping your old friends that used to work there still do.

“y/n! oh my god, how long has it been? lia, y/n’s here!” your old friend, yeji, yelled across the cafe. in just a few moments, the store was adorned with a closed sign as your friends sat around you with fresh hot chocolates.

“won’t you guys lose business if you close up so early? won’t your boss be mad?” you asked them, sipping the drink in front of you.

“it’s winter break and all the college kids went home, we have no business!” yuna chuckled. “as for the boss, well...”

“you’re looking at her!” yeji announced cheerily. “we have a lot to catch up on, dude.” she giggled.

♡♡♡

you and the girls spent hours chatting, catching each other up on your lives and all the things you’d all been doing. you had completely forgotten about your earlier clash with hyunjin, letting yourself enjoy the company of your friends after so long. you absentmindedly flip your phone over to check the screen, only then noticing the numerous phone calls and texts you’d gotten from hyunjin as well as the others. you excuse yourself, walking away to call felix back first, not wanting to deal with confronting hyunjin right now.

“y/n! are you okay? you never let anyone know whether you’d gotten home safely and hyunjin said you weren’t home when he went to your place. where are you? we were about to call the police! dear god...” he rambled in a panic.

“ah, I’m so sorry lix---I wanted to get some air so I took the long way home and ended up at the cafe across from my old college. all the girls just happened to work tonight so we were catching up.” you explained, apologizing profusely.

“thank god, I’m just glad you’re okay. I’m sure hyunjin’s relieved, it looked like there were two rivers pouring out of his eyes earlier.” he laughed, sighing a breath of relief.

“I...haven’t called him yet.” you said hesitantly.

“y/n! call him now!” he scolded loudly, making you flinch.

“okay, okay! bye.” you grumbled, hanging up promptly. you called hyunjin right after, figuring you should just tell him you were on your way home to talk so he’d stop worrying. he picked up right away.

“are you okay? where are you? I’m so sorry, baby, please tell me you’re not hurt.” hyunjin cried into the phone, making your heart ache a little.

“I’m fine. I’ll be home soon.” you mumbled softly.

“where are you? it’s late, I’ll come to you.” you heard him shuffling.

“it’s okay---”

“y/n, I’m coming. where are you, love?” he said gently, sniffling a little.

“at the cafe across from my old college.” you said meekly.

“the one we had our first date at?” you could hear the fond smile spreading across his face at the memory.

“yeah. see you then.” you said quickly, hanging up abruptly. as much as you wanted to take the walk down memory lane with him, you were still hurt by the way he’d treated you earlier that night, and that hurt wasn’t going to be mended by a simple memory.

“everything alright?” ryujin came over, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“yeah, it was hyunjin,” she looked at you expectantly, knowing there was something more there, “we had a fight. it was one-sided though, all him,” you sighed. “he’s coming to pick me up, though.”

“you live like a 20 minute walk away, right? sit down and spill.” she dragged you back to your seat, quickly letting the others know what was up while you waited.

♡♡♡

“oh my god, I’m gonna kill him!” chaeryeong yelled, getting up from her seat and stomping.

“relax, chaer! they spent the whole evening here without telling him where they were so I’m sure hyunjin got a taste of his own medicine.” yuna chuckled.

“stop,” you whined, “I already feel bad enough.” you pouted at her.

she rolled her eyes before abruptly tapping your shoulder. “your boyfriend’s here.”

you saw him wave through the glass awkwardly. you got up and were immediately engulfed in a hug by all the girls.

“we’re always here for you, y/n. don’t forget to come visit sometimes.” yeji said into the hug, earning a nod from you.

“and I’ll actually kill him if he hurts your feelings again.” chaeryeong mumbled.

you just chuckled, letting them go and waving goodbye before heading out to go home with hyunjin.

“hey.” he said awkwardly. you said nothing, immediately walking in the direction of your home and catching hyunjin off guard. he caught up quickly though (curse his long ass legs) and followed next to you.

“baby, we need to talk.” he sighed.

“I have nothing to say.” you said coldly, still looking straight ahead.

“y/n, I was so worried!” he yelled, exasperated. you both stopped walking, realizing this was going to happen now or never.

“it’s one thing that you hate having me around your friends but what, now I can’t even hang out with my friends, hyunjin? fuck off!” you yelled back. even though you knew you were in the wrong for not letting him know you got home safely, it wasn’t fair, the whole situation wasn’t fair.

“you know that’s not fair y/n!” he said, as if he could read your mind.

“you know what isn’t fair, hyunjin? the fact that I put so much effort into spending this one night out of the month with you and your friends to show you I care about the things and people you love only to have you throw it back in my face and treat me like utter shit in front of them!”  your voice broke, making you immediately turn your head so hyunjin wouldn’t see you getting emotional.

he didn’t hesitate at all, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. you didn’t attempt to pull away; you needed the comfort and hyunjin knew what you needed even better than you did.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he sighed, burying his face into the crook of your neck, “would you believe me if I said I was jealous?” he admitted, hiding even further into your neck.

“of what?” you questioned. there was a short pause before you answered for him, “of felix?” 

“mhmm” he hummed. he pulled himself off of you and looked at anywhere but you, “I don’t know...I guess I didn’t like that you were telling him everything that was going on in your life before you even told me, you know? I want to be the first person you want to talk to about everything.” he said sheepishly, clearly embarrassed to be saying something so vulnerable.

“hyune, you could’ve just told me that instead of humiliating me in front of your friends.” you said gently, not wanting to make him feel judged.

“I know. and I really am sorry baby, I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on you.” he sighed, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers.

“I forgive you. but you do it one more time and we’re over, got it?” you said firmly, making sure he knew you were serious.

“it won’t happen ever again, I swear on my life.” he finally met your eyes to show you his sincerity.

you smiled, reaching your hand out for his. you held each other’s hands and he tucked your intertwined hands in his coat pocket as you continued your walk home, “now you wanna hear what the girls are up to?”

“you know I do.” he grinned.

“well for starters, you’re definitely on chaer’s hit list.”

“w-what?”

#skz angst #skz reactions #skz headcanons #stray kids reactions #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz chan #skz lee know #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz hyung line #stray kids #skz #bang chan #skz scenarios

[rad-batson]

AU where Billy Batson is investigating some random magic issue because his powers have been depleted as a consequence, meaning he temporarily can’t be Captain Marvel, but he somehow accidentally tips off Zatanna who’s working in the watchtower that day. She senses the sudden lack of magic in Fawcett City and tries to contact Marvel to warn him, but he can’t be reached so she calls up a few members of the JL to check it out because they want to make sure he’s okay.

Batman, Zatanna, The Flash, and Wonder Woman start wandering through Fawcett with no plan, just looking for some kind of sign that Cap is nearby, when they see this kid in a tattered red hoodie open a PORTAL, and they’re like what the fuck?! So they slip through the portal right before it closes and suddenly they’re in this infinite magical cave, and the boy is pissed. And he’s really not open to questions.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“None of your business.”

“Where are we?”

“Also none of your business.”

The heroes aren’t idiots, though. They know this kid has something to do with Cap’s disappearance, so they ask him questions until he finally gets tired of them and says, “I’m his…protégé.”

“Cap has a protégé?”

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Prove it.”

“Superman works as a news reporter at the Daily Planet.”

“…Oh shit.”

Batman tries to talk to him about how he shouldn’t know this kind of stuff but the kid hits him back with, “You have like ten kids who know everyone’s identities too. Why are Captain Marvel and I suddenly breaking protocol?” Point taken.

So now there’s this magical kid who’s apparently in line to become the next Champion of Magic who knows all of the JL’s secrets through Captain Marvel, and they still don’t know WHERE Cap is so they take him back to the watchtower and try to get as much info from him as possible. It only makes them more confused.

“Where is Captain Marvel?”

“He’s stuck in eternity.”

“What does that mean?”

“He doesn’t have a corporeal form right now.”

“He- what the fuck? How did that happen?”

“His powers were depleted after a big fight last week.”

“But is that reversible?”

“That’s what I was working on.”

“And what were you doing, exactly?”

“I was…trying to help him get his strength back.”

“Okay? How can we help?”

“Umm, you can’t.”

“Is he okay? In eternity?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“How do you know he’s okay?”

“We…have a…shared consciousness?”

“Excuse me??”

“I take it back.”

“You can’t just take that back?!“

“It’s Champion of Magic stuff, okay?! You wouldn’t understand!”

The kid’s story just keeps getting weirder and weirder until he refuses to answer questions, leaving them more in the dark than they were before.

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #dc universe #shazam #justice league #batman #zatanna #wonder woman #the flash #rock of eternity #dc

[orionremastered]

Damian Wayne x Paramedic!Reader

Soulmate AU

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

You knew what curare was. The plant, originating from South America, was a plant drug that was used in the first forms of anesthesia before being replaced by newer agents. That left curare no longer as something useful, but as a deadly poison.

Curare relaxes the muscles until, eventually, the victim's diaphragmatic muscles no longer have the strength, causing the body to die of asphyxia.

It is in times like this, when you gaze over the hospital bed of your soulmate, that you wished you didn't know these things. You wished you didn't know how long it took for it to kill a human- twenty minutes at most- but your knowledge was useful. It was useful in the way that you knew the poison wasn't eaten or consumed.

That wasn't how curare worked.

The nurses found a pinprick from a needle in Damian's hand, indicating that was where the dosage was given to him.

In front of you suddenly, Bruce clears his throat. He passes you a coffee and you gratefully take it, drinking it practically in one go. “He must've felt the needle.”

Bruce sat back on the chair beside you, sighing into his cup. It was one of those paper cups and the billionaire looked comical drinking from it. “There are things that you one day will learn about my son,” he says in a low, deep voice, “But that day has yet to come.”

He offers no room for further explanation, and part of you doesn't want to know. Not with the way he said it.

With an understanding nod, your gaze drifts to the TV directly across from the bed. A news channel is playing, but the volume's all the way down. The news reporter- a lady with blonde hair in a fur coat as she stands outside the GCPD headquarters- finishes talking and smiles.

You read the headline and immediately point it out for Bruce.

VIGILANTES DETAIN SUSPECT OF WAYNE POISONING.

The suspect in question is heavily beat up, setting off alarms in your head you didn't know existed. You recognised him from the meeting in the Wayne Tower; one of the businessmen from another city.

Beside you, Bruce smiles. But only slightly; you have to triple check to make sure it's really there.

"Did they get him, father?"

The low voice startles you and your head immediately whips around to see your soulmate's eyes opened, watching his father until his gaze slowly turns to you.

"Hi," you say quietly, fidgeting with a pen you found in your pocket.

Damian slowly looks to his forearm where the words he and his family- both the Al Ghuls and the Waynes- dreaded. Instead of being written in black, they were now written in your favourite colour. The word on your forearm was now written in emerald green.

"How are you feeling?" you ask after clearing your throat. 

There’s a moment of pause as he eyes you warily. A tired figure who’s worked too hard and for too long; someone who’s seen horrors and met lunatics all for a shitty paycheck. You don’t even know why you do your job; it’s something you always wanted to do, and it’s fulfilling, but sometimes those reasons didn’t feel like enough. “Better,” he finally decides.

Better. You could settle for better. 

“I’d better get going, then. I’ve had a long day, so, uhm,” you scribble your phone number and name down on a piece of paper, placing it on the bedside table. “Here. Call whenever you want to talk.”

There’s no universe where Damian’s eyes widen a fraction when he realises you’re not staying, but perhaps in this one, he did. Giving a nod to Bruce, you head out the door, walking purposefully to the entrance.

The truth was; you’re not ready for publicity. Being a paramedic means focus on the job and having paparazzi following you around at work was far from what you wanted. You were busy. Galas you would skip from being too tired or your back hurting from lifting patients or simply not being able to take the day off due to lack of staff. You’d become a target for criminals across the city rather than a face they sought for help.

You had been the one to give him your number for whenever he was ready to talk, but maybe it should’ve been the other way around. 

Harper slammed the passenger door to the ambulance shut, signalling the start of a busy night shift. It was the first shift you’d had together since you discovered the identity of your soulmate and you were grateful for a distraction. 

You partner whistled awkwardly, casting nervous glances your way as you pull out of the station. 

“Did you talk?”

“Briefly.”

“Exchange numbers?”

“Yes.”

“Did you… talk over text?”

“No,” you sigh, driving to the nearest coffee shop despite you knowing you wouldn’t make it before getting a call. “Maybe it’s a good thing. I mean, I don’t really want the publicity, you know?”

Harper nodded slowly. “Is he doing better?”

“Yeah, he got discharged an hour after I left. Checked the hospital staff portal.”

The computer beside Harper beeps, shifting your attention to it. “Elderly male complaining of chest pains, history of cardiac issues.”

“Nothing like a heart attack to change the subject,” you mutter, putting the topic of your soulmate in the back of your mind. Lingering, but never gone.

Half an hour until your shift ended. That was the only thing you could think about as the grey clouds hanging constantly over Gotham brightened with the rising sun. Your shift had been long, eventful and it was safe to say the pizza you managed to find open at this hour was the best thing you'd ever tasted.

"Do you think-"

Harper gets cut off by the sound of a message reaching your phone. He raises an eyebrow, smile growing as you roll your eyes and pull it out of your pocket. Truth is, you still weren't ready to register or make the decision on whether or not you wanted to be with someone like a Wayne.

Sorry for not texting you sooner. We should talk.

You change the new number's name to 'Soulmate' and fiddle with your phone case, trying to come up with a reply. Harper casts glances at the screen every few seconds, trying to act normal.

I can't have the publicity.

Your gut sours as you wait for a reply, but you can't seem to rip your eyes away.

I understand.

That is why we should talk.

"Maybe you should talk," Harper says. "It'll be worth it, I'm sure."

You know it will- you want to be with him, you want to have a future together and you want that yearning in your chest to be filled with satisfaction that maybe, just maybe, you can finally do life right.

But part of you- perhaps the rational part of you- believes that could never happen. You'd have to choose between your soulmate and your job. Helping the city, being anonymous, meeting new people and laughing with your colleagues- your best friends- doing what you love...

You turn off your phone without replying.

A/N: Requests are open for batfam if anyone has ideas (bc I heavily lack those rn)

Masterlist

#damian wayne x reader #batfamily #batfam #x reader #batfamily x reader

[cleoluvrr]

don't fall for monsters (rafe cameron x reader)

it was the ultimate disguise, i really stayed with such a monster

WARNINGS: dark!rafe, mentions of drowning, mentions of past murder, coercion, domestic violence, manipulation, angst

masterlist

your eyes burned from the flashing lights of red, white, and blue. neighbors stood on their porches and peeked through the blinds to watch the commotion, nothing better to do than involve themselves in small town drama. you could feel every pair of eyes stuck on your shivering frame; wet hair and tearstained face a sight to see. 

the towel wrapped around your shoulders barely did anything to keep you warm in the cool, fall evening. it was there to keep the water from soaking through your clothes and nothing more. the smell of salt water clung to your hair and the longer you stood there, the more nauseous you felt from the scent.

seeing rafe cameron in the back of a paddy wagon did nothing to soothe your nerves, nor did the distant sound of his father speaking to shoupe just a few yards away. the two men kept sneaking glances at you from afar and made it obvious the topic of the choice happened to be you. rafe, however, never broke his gaze, even when you tore yours away. the fury in his eyes burned through you like a laser and the blowout that would take place at some point or another was inevitable.

you could be sick.

“hey, sweetheart?” a lower-ranked officer approached you cautiously, obviously not wanting to startle you. “do you mind coming with me for a little bit? just need to ask you some questions, is all.” 

the older, blonde female officer came into your view for a moment when you side-eyed her, an unwelcome hand landing on your shoulder. she slowly removed it after feeling your sharp gaze on her. 

“i have nothing to say.” you replied monotonously. your face lacked any emotion and it probably made her feel uncomfortable from the way she swallowed dryly. 

“honey, i know–”

“you don’t know anything, actually.” you cut her off before she could speak any further. “and don’t call me honey.” leaving the cop where she stood, you walked over to the steps of your house and took a seat. she was left standing there like an idiot and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t overcome with the shock of what landed you in this predicament.

rafe tried to drown you.

well, maybe he was just trying to scare you, but there was no arguing against the fact he held you head beneath the water and made sure you couldn’t breathe.

your boyfriend had been lashing out for weeks, taking all his anger and frustration out on you. the only reason you invited him over was to talk about things because you simply couldn’t take it anymore. sure, you two have had rough patches before–but this situation had gotten completely out of hand. you loved him too much to end it, though, so you thought this was the best option.

you expected to get to the bottom of things, not for rafe to confess to you a great sin. 

he told you about what happened on the tarmac, how he murdered sheriff peterkin. the weight was dragging him down and he couldn’t keep it a secret anymore–he had to tell someone. you understood, in a weird way. that wouldn’t be something you could carry around either.

you just wished that someone wasn’t you.

how could you walk around knowing the man you love is a killer? he’s the reason his sister is lost at sea, why the entire town was chasing after an innocent kid and not him. it was a mystery to you why he thought you’d take this information well, but the way he reacted when you said you were going to the cops shouldn’t have surprised you.

the moment rafe dragged you out of the back door to the water behind your house, you were sure you’d suffer the same fate as peterkin. when he threw you to your knees and dug his nails into your scalp, roots burning as he fisted the hair with all his strength. you begged him to stop, told him you loved him–anything that would snap him out of it. at some point you screamed for help, and someone had to have heard you from how loud you were. they had to have heard you because one minute you had a nose full of water, and the next you were coughing your guts out in the grass while two neighbors knocked rafe off of you and held him down.

they were the ones that called the cops, not you. your own phone was sitting upstairs in your room, shattered and unusable after being thrown against the wall by rafe.

so here you sat, a bunch of strangers watching your house as the kook king argues with the sheriff about what to do with his son. ward didn’t particularly like rafe very much, but he’d be damned if he let him go to jail over this. you knew this for a fact.

ward would burn every bridge in the country to make sure his family remained at the top. he was willing to let a teenage boy die before letting rafe take the fall for a murder he committed. ward cameron had the money and influence that most people could only dream of, and he knew how to use it to his advantage. if it meant throwing you to the wolves to save his son, he’d cover you in rabbit’s blood and send you to their den on a platter.

“y/n?” 

the sound of your name pulled you out of your dazed state, the familiar voice coming from directly in front of you. ward cameron watched you with worry from where he stood, not that you really cared. he could pretend he was worried about you all he wanted, you already knew his true colors.

“are you okay, sweetie? can you tell me what happened?” he lowered himself into a squat to meet you at eye level. his brows met in the middle and he had deep stress lines decorating his aged face. “what’s all this about?”

sniffling, you dropped your head between your shoulders for a moment. you shook it from side to side before meeting his gaze again. he looked confused by the dry chuckle that left your mouth, clearly unsure of how to interpret the reaction.

“what’s this all about…” you laughed humorlessly again, face blank and eyes cold. “your son tried to drown me, mr. cameron–i’m sure you’ve heard what this is all about.”

the silence between you and the older man was heavy with tension. he glanced back at shoupe, who was watching the conversation with scrutiny from afar, and rafe in the seat of the police car. his eyes met yours again, this time worried for a different reason.

you already knew what he was going to say. 

“i’m sure it was just a misunderstanding–”

“a misunderstanding?” you repeated in disbelief. “are you serious? look at me!”

his eyes raked over your dampened, disheveled frame. he ran a rough hand through his hair stressfully before speaking.

“look…i know you’re upset right now. i do, really.” ward's tongue pokes out to moisten his slightly chapped lips as a result of the chill wind gently blowing over the area. “but just think about what you’re going to say first.”

“i’m not gonna snitch, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.” you wave him off annoyedly. the cameron patriarch looked at you in shock, like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth.

you were pissed. enraged. you couldn’t believe that rafe tried to drown you and it hurt to think about how he was willing to take you out just to keep a secret you never asked him to reveal in the first place. how ward was more concerned about covering his son’s ass than he was about him trying to take your life.

so many thoughts flooded your mind and you wanted nothing more than to take your brain out for a few minutes of peace. 

even with the anger and fear that consumed you, snitching on rafe was out of the question. not only because it would never go anywhere, but because deep down; you knew you could never do that to him. you loved him too much, and that truth sickened you to admit to yourself.

before he could speak again, shoupe approached the two of you faster than you could blink. his shoulders were squared and his hands rested on his belt as if he was ready for defense. the man gave ward a long, heated glare before he stared down at your seated frame with a sympathetic gaze.

“everything alright over here?” he questions, obviously accusing ward of something along the lines of witness intimidation with just four words. 

“everything is fine, shoupe.” ward doesn’t give you the chance to answer, immediately interjecting as your lips parted to speak. the sheriff cuts his eyes at him momentarily before returning to you.

“i was speaking to the young lady, ward.”

you avoided eye contact with both of the men. you were far too occupied with the chipping polish on your fingernails to bother with whatever strange tension they had between them. the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you made your skin prickle up and you wanted nothing more than to take a shower and pretend this night never happened.

“everything’s fine.” you kicked at the rocks beneath your feet, voice soft and disinterested. 

“are you sure?” shoupe did not believe a word coming out of your mouth. you didn’t either, but there was no point in telling him that. “is there a reason i have three witnesses saying they found rafe holding you under the water?”

“nothing happened, officer shoupe. i fell and rafe was helping me–i’m not the best swimmer.” 

ward maintained a tense posture as he stood beside shoupe and you wanted so badly to roll your eyes–or scream. you almost wanted to say something just to see the man go pale in the face, but you resisted. it wasn’t because you were afraid of ward; the man was the least of your worries. the idea of rafe going free even if you came clean made you sick to your stomach. that was enough to shut you up.

the two men that helped you were giving their statements to some random officer, and you prayed for the pair of them. whatever happened to them after the lights went off wasn’t your problem, but rafe would certainly handle them in whatever way he saw fit. the knot on his forehead and the dried-blood leaking from his nose would serve as a reminder to get his revenge.

“that’s not what those young men told me, y/n. they clearly saw him doing something to hurt you.”

“it’s dark, shoupe. they didn’t ‘clearly see’ anything.” your eyes snapped up to meet him. the agitation was starting to eat away at you and you just wanted everyone to get off your yard. “i just told you what happened, so what’s the issue?”

“sweetie, you don’t need to be scared of anything–”

you stood to your full height abruptly, both of the older men stepping back from the sudden movement. rafe’s staring was turning your stomach and shoupe’s accent was becoming headache inducing. 

“he’s my boyfriend, i’m not scared of him.” you cut him off mid-sentence. it was a lie and you both knew it, but his pushing was irritating you more than ward’s looming presence overseeing the interaction. “i fell, and he helped me. those guys misunderstood–what else do you want me to say? that’s all that happened.”

they watched you closely as you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively. it was getting harder to keep it all together and crying in front of the already unconvinced man isn’t going to help your case at all. 

“you guys can go.” you pulled the towel off your shoulders and folded it into a messy rectangle. the wet hair falling down your back made you cringe internally. “i’m sorry y’all came out here for nothing…i’ll try to stay away from the water at night.”

shoupe’s only response was a reluctant nod, eyes glancing over at ward before he stepped away. you watched as he stalked over to the cruiser holding rafe, releasing him after speaking to the officer keeping watch over him. those steely, blue eyes remained on you the entire time they unlocked his cuffs, jaw locked and shoulders tense with anger.

even though you just saved his ass, although it wasn’t your first choice, he was greatly displeased. if ward noticed the way his son looked at you, he didn’t say anything to make it known. the audience that had gathered looked confused at his release, the men that saved you especially so.

with each step rafe took, you could feel your heart skip a beat. dread washed over you. even though there was nothing he could do with the police watching like hawks, you knew something was coming sooner or later. he rubbed at the red marks encircling his wrists from the tight cuffs, but he was totally fixated on you.

it sent a chill down your spine but you couldn’t show that; not in front of all these people.

“baby…” you said cautiously. stopping in front of you, the heat of his body warmed you from a foot away. “are you okay? i didn’t mean for all this to happen.”

you don’t wait for him to respond. rather, you step forward with open arms and wrap them around his lean body, tightly embracing him. you were sure you heard a few gasps in the distance and ward’s breath hitched from his spot a few feet away. 

rafe doesn’t hesitate to return the gesture, arms snug atop your shoulders as he rests his chin on your still damp hair. he rocks you back and forth, the swaying motion hardly soothing when you feel the bile trying to fight its way out of your throat.

“i know, princess, it’s okay.” his voice vibrated against your scalp. “i’m sorry i hurt you...i-i wasn’t thinking.”

you nodded your head, humming in understanding. you didn’t believe it for a second, but you just wanted to pretend nothing ever happened. it was easier to live when you didn’t have to think about the love of you life trying to drown you in your own house

“rafe.” ward interrupted the reunion with a stern voice. you felt his head raise to look at his father but his arms remained tight around you. “we need to go now. give the girl some space tonight.”

rafe nodded at his father; you could tell from the way his chin brushed against your skull. his hand took your head into their hold as he tilted it up to make you look at him directly. though there was a familiar softness to his face, there was something in those pretty, blue eyes that unsettled your mind. he leaned down to place a careful peck upon your lips, so gentle that it felt like a breeze ghosted across the skin.

“i love you.” he whispered against your slightly parted mouth.

“i love you, too.” you responded just as softly.

he nodded his head, lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks. he adjusts himself to lean in close to your ear, preparing to say something just from you to hear.

“i love you so much,” his breathe hits the shell of your ear in a way that makes you tingle. “but i will kill you if you tell anyone. i don’t wanna have to do that, but i will…so don’t put me in that position, alright baby? don’t get involved.”

you nearly froze, but with everyone watching your every move you had no choice but to react calmly and nod your head.

placing a kiss on your cheek, rafe pulls away completely. you wait for him to turn his back before you briskly walk up the steps to enter your own house. you were met with pin drop silence and dim lights when you opened the door, immediately shutting it behind you as you stepped inside.

you barely got the door locked before you fell to the floor in anguish. silent shakes racked your body as you muffled the audible cries with a hand pressed tight against your lips. the wooden frame of the front door was hard and cold against your back. you lost your breath from the strength of your heart-wrenching sobs. if someone pressed their ear to the door you were sure they’d be able to hear the pain and fear spilling out of you. everyone had invaded your privacy enough tonight to last a lifetime and you couldn’t find it in you to care.

he put his hands on you. the same hands he used to murder peterkin with. the same hands he used to hold you beneath the water while you beggar for your life. he kissed you with the mouth he used to threaten you with. used that mouth to tell he loved you before saying he’d kill you. violated wasn’t strong enough of a word to describe how you felt.

betrayed? disgusted? 

how could he live a life like this? how could he drag you into his mess and then tell you not to get involved? how could he look in the mirror and not feel like an animal? 

then again, you must ask yourself–

how could you let yourself love a monster like rafe cameron?

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron #obx2 #obx1 #obx fanfiction #outer banks #drew starkey #obx3 #obx angst

[duskiers]

Enchanted Beginnings

Percy / Aphrodite!Reader

Percy falls for the new Aphrodite daughter, leading to a series of amusing mishaps as he's too distracted by her presence. With a little help from Grover, Percy finally connects with her ☆

First request woop woop 🙌 💗

‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵⊹‿︵🕊️︵‿⊹︵‿⊹︵‿︵‿⊹︵‿︵

The day you arrived at Camp Half-Blood, the sky was painted with strokes of pink and orange, heralding your entrance into a world where myths breathed and heroes walked. Percy Jackson, already a seasoned hero in the eyes of many, found himself at the archery range, his focus far from the quiver and bow. The camp was busy with the arrival of new demigods, but one in particular seemed to capture everyone’s attention before the gods themselves claimed her as their own. You, with your grace and an aura that seemed to whisper of Aphrodite's lineage, had barely crossed the camp's threshold before a glowing symbol of the goddess appeared above your head, sealing your divine heritage.

From across the field, Percy caught sight of you, and in that moment, the world seemed to slow. Everything about you fascinated him—the way you moved with effortless grace, your smile that seemed to light up the surroundings, and the kindness in your eyes that spoke of a gentle strength. He was so captivated that he hardly noticed Grover, his best friend, approaching.

"Who is that?" Percy's voice was a mix of wonder and curiosity, his gaze fixed on you as you laughed at something another camper said.

Grover followed his gaze, a knowing smile forming on his lips. "That's the new girl. Daughter of Aphrodite, and it seems like she's already making quite the impression!" he teased, elbowing Percy lightly.

In the days that followed, Percy found himself drawn to you, often going out of his way just to catch a glimpse of you during training or meals. However, his attempts at nonchalance led to a series of comical mishaps—walking into door frames, tripping over nothing at all, and yes, even walking straight into a window, all because he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

Grover, witnessing Percy's increasing clumsiness and the amused whispers of their fellow campers, decided it was time for intervention. He made up a plan to finally push Percy into taking action, rather than just daydreaming about you from afar.

One sunny afternoon, as you were returning from a strategy session with Annabeth, Grover saw his opportunity. With a quick, "Trust me" whispered to Percy, he gave him a not-so-gentle push, sending him stumbling directly into your path.

The collision was gentle, but unexpected, causing you to catch Percy in your arms in a moment of surprise. "Whoa! Are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you helped him.

Percy, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, managed a sheepish smile. "Yeah, sorry, I just... lost my footing.." he stuttered, internally cursing his lack of grace.

"I'm Percy , " he introduced himself, though a part of him worried you might have already heard of his less-than-graceful moments around camp.

You laughed, a sound that to Percy felt like music. "I know who you are. Percy Jackson, the hero of Olympus. I'm [Name]." you said, extending your hand in greeting.

What followed was a conversation that flowed more naturally than Percy could have hoped for. He found himself opening up about his adventures, the burdens he carried, and the simple joys of camp life. In return, you shared your own journey to Camp Half-Blood, the fears, and excitement that came with discovering your heritage, and the hope of finding a place where you truly belonged.

Grover watched from a distance, a satisfied grin on his face as he saw the two of you laughing together, completely at ease. He had no doubt that this was the beginning of something special.

In the weeks that followed, Percy and you grew closer, spending hours talking by the lake, training together in the arena, and sharing quiet moments under the stars. Percy, who had once been so entranced by your beauty, found himself even more captivated by your spirit—your kindness, your bravery, and your unwavering support.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Percy found the courage to express his feelings. Sitting together by the lake, he took your hand in his, his heart racing.

"[Name], from the moment I saw you, I was... well, I was in awe. But it's not just about how you look. It's everything about you—your kindness, your strength, your courage. You've become someone very important to me" he admitted, "and I keep finding more reasons to be amazed by you every day." his voice tinged with sincerity and a hint of nervousness.

Your smile in response was all the assurance Percy needed. "Percy , you've been my rock since I arrived here. You've shown me what it means to be a true hero—not just through your deeds, but through your heart.." You respond with a soft smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand. "I’m glad Grover pushed you into me that day," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Percy laughed, a sound filled with happiness and relief. "Me too. Me too."

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you both sat there, talking about everything and nothing. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you <3

#꒰ ঌ 🪧 ໒ ꒱ #percy jackson comfort #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #pjo x reader #percy fluff #pjo #Aphrodite #Aphrodite reader #percy jackson #percy x Aphrodite #percy x Aphrodite!reader #daughter of aphrodite #lolol #AHHHHHHH #FORST REQUEST #first** #anyways enjoy <33 #(´ε｀ ) #꒰ ঌ 🪧 ໒ ꒱

[inamindfarfaraway]

I love how Paul's character in The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is defined entirely by a lack of desire, or desire defined only as 'not what I don't want'. "What Do You Want, Paul?" is a big joke about what a terrible narrative protagonist he is. But it's deeper than that. Throughout the show, even in the smallest, most insignificant phrasing, this man only ever expresses wants in these negative forms, as if he's incapable of feeling attraction in itself rather than simply avoiding what he dislikes. And only avoiding! He never says that he hates anything, either! That would give him passion, drive, perhaps the goal of actively removing that thing. No, he exclusively uses the verb hate in past tense.

He doesn't like musicals, singing, dancing or public performances. He makes this very clear, to the point that it's one of his most significant character traits. At no point does he ever talk about liking any media.

He doesn't want to do social activities.

He doesn't want to give away his money. About both this and the above, he can provide no logical explanation or moral justification. He just doesn't feel like them.

He always gets black coffee because it has "no cream, no sugar, nothing in it"; that is to say, he might not necessarily love it, merely prefer it over its sweeter or more complex alternatives.

He doesn't believe that Emma should have to sing and dance at work - he doesn't want her life to be so unfair and annoying to the both of them.

He doesn't want to obstruct the workings of his office (saying "that's the last thing I want" triggers "What Do You Want, Paul?").

He says, "I wanna go home!" when Mr Davidson is singing at him, but means that he wants to be somewhere safe and not stuck in this incredibly uncomfortable situation.

He doesn't want to die.

He specifically doesn't want to die in Clivesdale, because fuck Clivesdale.

He doesn't want to join the Hive.

He doesn't want to leave Hatchetfield, even when it's the site of an alien invasion that is his personal worst nightmare. He actually says that "All things considered, I like Hatchetfield", arguably an exception to the standard. However, he's also well aware of the town's flaws and problems. He grew up one of its poorer residents, attending the inferior, underfunded Sycamore High School where he casually admits the students "hated [themselves]" and having to watch its more respectable rival Hatchetfield High's school play. He has no strong investment in his tedious middle-class office job. He doesn't get along with some of his fellow townsfolk, like his coworker Ted and all the employees of Beanies except Emma. He awkwardly evades giving to charity and the homeless every morning on his way to work. His life is decidedly not one of utter bliss, and yet it's good enough for him in that he doesn't have the energy, ambition or imagination to want anything more. Since he's "been here [his] whole life", his affection for his hometown could be more an aversion to everywhere else or the hassle of travelling. Sticking with the devil he intimately knows.

He doesn't think badly of Emma, and says so because he doesn't want her to or believe that he does after learning that she helped make a "hated" experience of his happen.

He doesn't want to let Bill die, which is why he goes with Bill to rescue Alice. His heroism and proactiveness at the turning point of the end of Act One start to notably erode his apathy, but his phrasing reaffirms his negative motivations: "Hey, it's not like you're asking me to go see Mama Mia!", "Emma, there comes a time in every man's life when he has to draw a line in the sand. And I will never be in a fucking musical."

He doesn’t want Bill to blame himself for Alice's endangerment, stay in the area once Alice is revealed to be a vessel of the Hive or kill himself.

He doesn't want to do some light reading on the universal truth of love and the strength of the human heart.

He has no positive motivation. He breaks one of the most basic rules of being a fictional character, let alone the main character the audience is supposed to root for. He isn't just an antihero, he's an anti-protagonist. Although this could easily make him boring or unsympathetic, he manages to seem relatable. Real. Human. He captures so genuinely an ordinary person living an ordinary life suddenly trapped in a horror story. How many of can honestly articulate "one concrete goal that motivates all [our] actions"? Even if you can, you wouldn't undergo a narratively fulfilling and thematically cohesive arc related to that desire the way a fictional character would. We're all essentially just trying to survive each day. To make or keep our lives however we define 'good enough'. We may not have a crystal clear picture of our ideal life, but I bet we all have a long list of things we don't want in it. We're all Paul.

What more appropriate antagonist for this man to face, then, than a force that exists to strip people of their autonomy, their individuality, their personhood, and force them to play archetypical characters in a conventional narrative? The Hive observes that Paul is an anti-protagonist and takes offence to this. It seeks to convert him into his antithesis, the "bold" "leading man" of its musical who the audience can "sympathize with". The Infected highlight this in the opening song, in which they eagerly anticipate and prepare the audience for his entrance... and he misses his cue. He isn't following their script. Perhaps that's why the audience is able to believe in this average, unassuming antihero's potential to succeed, to defeat the Hive or at the very least escape it, despite how fraught and grim the situation becomes. The story certainly proves itself to be cruel to its characters; but Paul doesn't operate like a normal character. The Hive promises to fulfil people's desires and make them happy throughout the play. Charlotte, Bill, Hidgens and Ted's deaths are connected to, either in direct causality or thematic relevance, their respective desires for Sam's love, Alice's safety, world peace (and the glory of a musical career) and Ted's own survival. Paul is uniquely immune to this pattern of death related to a core motivation.

Until:

"I can't leave without Emma”, “a friend of mine."

"Is there a chance of something more?"

"I think so. I'd like there to be. I want there to be."

He wants Emma, her life and her happiness and maybe, just maybe, her love. He wants to love her. To spend time with her. For the first time ever, he wants more out of life, not less. He's a little bit more of a character. After the Infected reprise the "Did you hear the word?" section of the opening song, building up to his appearance, this time he does enter the theatre, coming down the aisle just as he was meant to. Right on cue. Paul is now vulnerable to the narrative - the Hive's narrative. And the Hive's control.

Still he resists, even while doubting if he was ever really happy before. Not only does he use his final words, fittingly, to declare that he doesn't like musicals, but before that he firmly refutes the Hive, and the philosophy behind it and all the pressures and temptatations it might represent: "It doesn't matter what I want." What matters is the good of the world. Emma. Love. Hope. Freedom. Integrity. Humanity, which must be wonderful if we can make sacrifices like this for all the right reasons.

Rest in peace, Paul Matthews. You were the opposite of a conventional protagonist, but a true hero.

#paul matthews #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #tgwdlm hive #hatchetfield meta #tgwdlm meta #tgwdlm analysis #analysis

[abbyromanoff]

If possible could you do a enemies to lovers for G!P Kate Bishop x Tracksuit Mafia Fem Reader where reader and Kate are having a fist fight that turns into a sex session that ends with reader becoming pregnant with Kate's baby

They Can’t Know

Pairings: Kate Bishop x reader

Word count: 2028

Warnings: violence, fighting, mafia’s, Kate has a dick, blowjobs, breeding kink, tummy bulges, daddy kink, praise kink, pregnancy, nicknames, flirty!Kate, small angst

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“Stop fighting me!” The girl, who you found out was named Kate, yelled. She had you pinned down below her, your knees being freed as you took it as your shot to knee her in the stomach. She groaned, the small moment of weakness allowing you to take her arm and pin her down to be in your previous position. You quickly grabbed the knife from your pocket, placing it against her neck as you watched her struggle to escape.

“Please, I won’t hurt you, just let me go.”

“And who said I don’t want to hurt you?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I can tell, Y/N.” Your eyes widened briefly before you relaxed, trying your best to hide any emotions she could use against you. You had never told her your name, but you guessed she had done some research on you beforehand. Smart move.

“I won’t let you kill her. Even if I have to take her spot, I will die protecting her.” She furrowed her eyebrows as the oxygen started lowering in her body. If she didn’t stop you soon, she knew this would be close to her last breath.

“Who is ‘she’ meant to be?”

“Maya Lopez. I’m not letting you near her.” That only confused her more. She wasn’t here for Maya, she was here for someone else. She had yet to know his name, only knowing he lacked a great amount of hair and was on the larger side. He had conversations with her mother, conversations she later learned led to her father's death when she was little.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She struggled to get the words out. You noticed her breath shortening even more and removed your arm from her neck in fear.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Of course, you know! You’re here to kill her.” Kate coughed multiple times and rolled over on the floor, trying her best to gain the little strength she had left in her.

“I’m not here to kill her, I’m here for him.” She grabbed a photo of the man she was after, watching as the gears turned in your head. You let out an embarrassed sigh and stood up, walking over to her and awkwardly offering your hand to help her stand. You could see the red marks staining her neck, the guilt building up even more.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I-I thought-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, I understand.” There was a small silence filling the area before she released a chuckle. You looked back at her, silently urging her to speak, anything to fill this unpleasant quiet nature.

“These marks definitely won’t be going away for a while.” She noticed your guilt-ridden face and shook her head.

“Don’t feel bad, sweetheart, they’re not that bad.” She said, “If anything, they’re kinda hot.” You laughed at her words, slowly trailing over to her and motioning for her to look up. She did as you asked. You examined her red skin while her eyes couldn’t leave you. She watched the concentration on your face with a smirk, the woman you just beat up was being cared for by you so gently, it was almost as if you hadn’t just choked her out. You finally caught on to her glances and nervously looked back down.

“Don’t look away, sweetheart. You’re beautiful.” She snapped her fingers in front of your face to get your attention back on her.

“Are you seriously trying to fuck me after I just tried to kill you?” You crossed your arms against your chest as she stared at your breasts, they were practically calling her name. She licked her lips and moved her eyesight back to be inline yours.

“Hm?”

“Did you even hear what I said?” She nodded, clearly lying her way out of it.

“Okay,” You started, “Then tell me what I said.” She closed the small space between you two, imagining your plump lips on hers. Your fit body beneath hers once more, but this time, it won’t be due to a fight. Her hand made contact with your cheek, cupping your soft face and pulling you closer until you could feel her breath against yours.

“I think you were saying something about how badly you wanted me to kiss you right now.” She trailed on, not being able to waste another second and connecting her lips with yours in a hurry. Her hands found place on your lower back near your butt as your placed themselves on her chest, slowly going down as the kiss progressed. You could feel her hardened length pressing against your core, begging for any sort of touch.

When it got difficult to breathe you finally released her lips, your eyes widening as you backed away from her lust-filled self.

“Kate, we can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You had just kissed her, practically made out with her and now you were denying it?

“If my boss finds out-”

“Don’t worry about her right now, baby, just think about this.” She could see you debating with yourself on what you wanted to do. You wanted more than anything for her to fuck you, have you make a mess all over her until you couldn’t take it anymore. But you knew the consequences as well. If Maya found out you had slept with someone she had been looking for for nearly 3 years, she’d kill you.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” Your lack of response caused her to continue. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you. I bet you’re such a hard little worker, willing to ruin your wants for Maya’s needs. Are you my good girl, baby?” You nodded breathlessly.

“Yeah, you are. Now why don’t you get on your knees for me, love.” Your knees hit the ground with a small force, your hands trailing to her pants. You cupped her covered length and smiled as you could hear her breath hitch. She smiled and fluttered her eyes shut, your fingers slowly unzipping her jeans until she was left in just her boxers.

“Stop being such a tease and just-”

“Just what, Katey?” Her cheeks reddened at the nickname, you took notice.

“C’mon, Kate, tell me what you want me to do.” You mimicked her words from earlier, chuckling to yourself as she groaned in frustration.

“Just- fuck me already!”

“Now, now, baby, didn’t your mother ever teach you some manners?” She was nearly fed up with you, it wasn’t the time to tease, she was desperate. Her cock was dripping in pre cum as you slowly trailed her boxers down her legs.

“Please, Y/N. Please fuck me.”

“That’s more like it.” Your hands went up and down her hips for a split second before finding their way to her leaking cock. You wrapped it around her length and kissed the head, smiling as you caught the small taste of her.

You made her feel things no woman had ever made her feel. She was in need of more, your mouth wasn’t enough. And when she fucked your face with little to no mercy, she could only imagine how your pussy must’ve felt. Your walls gripping her with dear life as she filled you up until you were dripping.

“Lay down, baby, I need to fuck this sweet cunt.”

“Fucking on a rooftop, real romantic, don’t you think?” Her cock prodded at your hole, her fingers finding their way to your pulsing clit. Her lips attacked yours in a frenzied haze. She couldn’t get enough of you, of your body, of the way you fit so well in her arms.

“My perfect little girl, so pretty you are.” Her free hand went to your nipples under your shirt, pinching and tweaking them until you were squirming beneath her.

“Shh, it’s alright, my love. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.” You nodded, the words trying to escape only failing as the pleasure became unbearable.

“Kate-” You gasped out. “I need you. I need you inside of me.” You cupped her cheeks and made her stare directly into your eyes, her pupils being dilated and blown out. You were just the same, staring at her with a certain want in your eyes.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you your manners, hm?” She mocked, listening to your whines with a grin. You could feel her slowly filling you up, your mouth letting out a gasp before dropping open as moans tumbled out of you. She kissed your forehead, letting her lips linger for a moment too long.

“Tell me when I can move, okay?” She waited patiently as you adjusted to the stretch. You had never felt so full. You knew it was wrong, yet, it felt so sinfully sweet. You prayed nobody would ever find out about this, but you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to consider the consequences, you just wanted her.

“You can move, Kate.” You mumbled out, your hand interlocking with hers as she started a slow yet harsh pace. You bit your lip as the fiery pain slowly faded into one of pleasure.

“Oh, daddy.” You moaned quietly, feeling Kate stop as she rendered what you had just said.

“What did you just call me?” Before you could apologize she continued, “Say it again.” Hearing those words leave your lips was like heaven. She couldn’t help the way she thrusted into you with such force, you drove her insane.

“Please, daddy, please fuck me harder!” Her hand snaked up to your neck, your breath being cut short as she choked you harshly. It was enough to leave a mark to tend to tomorrow, you assumed it was payback to the ones you left on her.

“That’s it, moan for daddy, baby. Be the perfect little slut I know you are.” The coil in her stomach tightened as you clenched around her.

“Fuck! Daddy’s gonna make you a mommy, baby. You want that? You want daddy to fuck you full of my cum?”

“Yes, daddy! Please fill me up, I need it so bad!” She tried her best to warn you, but she failed. Her release shot deep inside of you, filling your tight hole as she stilled. You snapped, the two of you finishing in sync. You scratched down her back leaving red marks behind. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, Kate’s hand resting on your stomach as she felt a small bulge. She grasped your hand into her own and placed it on your stomach once more.

“You feel that? You feel how deep I am inside of you?” The euphoric feeling was a long-awaited one. It had been months, almost years since you had felt that good. You didn’t want it to end, but you knew Kate couldn’t be seen near you. So, you soaked in the little time you both had left, holding her against you tightly and not letting go until she had to say goodbye once and for all. Just to be safe, she gave you her number, telling you not to call on your phone but a burner phone in case Maya tracked who you called.

It had been close to a month since that day and it had never left your mind. You’d lay in bed, all alone as you slowly fingered yourself, trying anything to get that same feeling you had with Kate. But as of late, you’d been beyond sick. You had a feeling you knew what it could be, Kate hadn’t worn a condom and while you were on birth control, it didn’t always work. You had called in sick, lucky enough to be granted the day off as you were closer to the boss and she knew how hard you’d been working. The timer went off, and you turned the test over and prepared yourself for the worst.

“Shit.” Two lines. Positive. You were pregnant. And it was Kate’s baby. The woman your boss had been after for years was going to be the mother to your child. What had you gotten yourself into?

#kate angst #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader smut #kate bishop angst #kate bishop smut #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x gender neutral reader #kate x y/n #hawkeye x y/n #hawkeye #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye x you #kate bishop x fem!reader

[sevencolorsatlast]

Archons Reacting To Their Creator Singing Pt. 2

Part 1 [Venti, Zhongli, Ei and Nahida] || Part 2 [Furina] (You're Here!)

Author's Note: 4.2 Update Spoilers! You've been warned! Song used: "Curses" by The Crane Wives. No beta, we die like my heart while playing this quest.

Update: I changed the verse weeee. Also corrected a couple of mistakes.

Content Warning(s): None.

Other Notes: Default SAGAU / GN!Reader / Drabble / 800+ Words / Ao3 Link

[ Furina ]

"There's still cobwebs in the corners

And the backyard's full of bones

Won't you stay with me, my darling

When this house don't feel like home?"

You came down from the heavens weeks ago, knowing Fontaine is in danger but kept your head low and disguised yourself as a Fontainian to seek solutions to their prophecy. No one suspected you aside from the Vision wielders and a few Guardes who eventually left you alone since you seem to be harmless. You also manage to avoid any unpleasant encounters with your followers while roaming around the city.

Visiting Focalors in the opera house when no one was around was... rather an eventful one; she hopes you do not intervene with her plans to save her beloved people. You tried to reason with her: you are her god — you can forgive her and her people but she says it is her duty as Hydro Archon as prophecies cannot be changed. To pursue "justice", so to speak, is via the death of her and her throne.

You no longer attempt to pursue the topic which Focalors tacitly appreciates. Instead, you promised to look after her "human" self... Furina.

She smiles ever so graciously, knowing that such a divine being like you would keep Furina safe and sound - even after she meets her fate. You ask if you can hug Focalors, she happily accepts as this will be your first and last meeting her. You give most of your strength to hug her and you pull away, saying your tearful goodbye.

Everything went down according to her plan; watching scenes unfolding right before your eyes. Furina's trial was heart wrenching to watch, you want to jump and defend her... but this was all part of her "divine" self's plan. You shouldn't interfere, you reminded yourself, you clench your fists as the last puzzle of the prophecy reveals itself in front of you and the rest of the audience.

After the flooding in Fontaine died down and you let weeks pass by to let the country recover, you sought out Neuvillette. He is surprised to see you, easily seeing through your disguise. He bows before you and airs his concerns about Furina who had moved away from Palais Mermonia. You gently grab his hand and hold it in-between yours, telling him to stand up. You reassure that you'll be discreetly visiting Furina and the Hydro Sovereign gives you the address on where she currently lives.

During sunset, you found Furina cooped up in her new home. You knock and it took her a while before peeking through the small gap of the door. To put it lightly, her place is in disarray even when the gap of her door is small — her things are littered on the floor and she... doesn't look too good. She is far from well-presented and she looks like a ghost.

You can tell her eyes are red from crying and lack of sleep is evident on her unusually pale face. Her once kept hair's a mess and her clothes aren't well-presented like they usually do. Her hat is also nowhere to be found, it must've been included in the pile of mess scattered about her floorboards.

She weakly asks who you are and tells you that she doesn't accept visitors. You look around, making sure no one is around to see your transformation. Once you know the coast is clear, you transform into your normal self; soft glow emanating from your skin.

Once you are done dusting off your robes, Furina suddenly pulls you into her home and slams the door behind her - stuttering "Your Grace" under her breath and muttering how she's embarrassed that she's in a mess.

You turn around to speak and, instead, you are met with a tight hug from Furina. She buries her head into your shoulder and clutching onto your robes.

She doesn't understand why you hadn't come down from the heavens sooner... and you tell her Focalors wanted to do her part while you witnessed everything. She remained silent for a while before letting out a few sobs. You finally let your arms wrap around her; like a parent hugging their long-lost child.

To calm her down, you sing a song you know from the depths of your heart; the one that is ingrained to the forefronts of your mind even as a child. You alternate between singing and humming while gently running your hand up and down on Furina's back.

Her sobs subside as the last lyric of the song leaves your lips. She wipes her tears away with her hands and regains her composure. She pulls her head away from your shoulder, her eyes yet to look at your direction.

"My apologies for seeing me in such a state, Your Grace." She says, her voice slightly above a whisper, "And ...That's a wonderful song you've sung. I... appreciate it..."

She sniffles; it reminded you when you were a kid. You smile at the fond memory.

"The song was sung to calm me down by my caretakers." You say, "I suppose it still holds its charm."

She lets out a weak chuckle and meets your eyes, "I... Thank you, Your Grace."

"For what?" You inquired despite knowing the answer. She pulls you into another hug, you could've sworn you had seen her genuinely smiling for the first time.

"For being here with me." She says, a small spark of joy coming from her voice, "For seeing the 'real' me."

As she hums your song, you hold each other close until the sun finally sets from the horizon.

#genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact spoilers #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau x reader #furina #furina sagau #neuvillette #neuvillette sagau #focalors #focalors sagau #once again i've used the word 'eyes' like i did with the previous archons lezgoooo #seven's tag #500

[sebscore]

MONZA MANICURE

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader

warnings: swearing. broken nail. being taken out on track. middle finger.

author's note: I don't even know how I came up with this idea, it came to mind and I couldn't get it out of my head. maybe because of the lack of danny ric on my page.

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''SCREW THAT FUCKING CARROT ON WHEELS! OH MY GOD!'' Were the words that Y/N's team heard through their headphones as Daniel took her out of the race.

She let out a big sigh as her car came to a halt, disappointed that no points would be earned this racing weekend. Y/N felt a throbbing pain on her nail that caused her to hiss, she took off her gloves and saw blood around the nail of her ring finger.

''The idiot broke my nail!'' She exclaimed, garnering laughter from her engineer and commentators as her radio message was replayed on television.

She disconnected her steering wheel and stepped out of the cockpit, too much damage to continue her race. A bit further from where she was, Daniel also got out of his car.

The Australian noticed the young woman and did a thumbs up, asking her if she's alright.

Instead of copying his action to let him know she's okay, she held up her middle finger. Daniel simply laughed, no taking offense as he knew she was joking around with him.

He waited for her by his car, ready to apologize. ''Danny! You broke my nail!'' Y/N latched onto her throbbing nail, trying to reduce the pain even if it was just a little bit. She held up her hand to his face, giving him a close-up.

He grabbed her wrist, inspecting the bloody nail. ''I'm so sorry, does it hurt a lot?'' Daniel felt guilty. He hadn't meant to take her out of the race, he dodged out of the way for someone else and accidentally touched her car from behind.

''It hurts like a bitch! Oh, I just got them done this week.'' She groaned, trying to put more pressure on her fingernail.

The McLaren driver put his hand on the side of her helmet as if it was her cheek. ''I'm really sorry, love. Kevin was gonna hit me and I got out of the way.'' He explained his action.

''I'm honestly more concerned about my nail than the race, Danny.'' Y/N laughed it off, she wouldn't have ended up on the podium anyway. The two walked back to the paddock, being scurried off by the marshals.

Daniel offered her a smile, one that wasn't visible because of his helmet. ''If there's anything I can do to help with your nail, I'll do it.'' He easily took the helmet off of his head, figuring that being able to see his face would make his words more personal.

Meanwhile, Y/N had more trouble taking hers off as her nail was still hurting and she couldn't use her full strength. ''Can you help take off my helmet? It's hard with my nail.'' She asked him, tapping his arm.

''Of course.'' Daniel moved in front of her and used both of his hands to grab the sides of her helmet. Instead of gliding off easily like usual, her head seemed stuck and Daniel was almost lifting her from the ground. ''Oh my god, my helmet! Not my head!'' She exclaimed, grabbing Daniel's arms to stop him from helping.

The Australian looked down and noticed her standing on her tippy toes, making him giggle and he pulled his hands back. ''I think your head's too big, Y/N.'' He teased her, patting the top of the helmet.

''And your ego's too big, but you don't see me complaining, Ricciardo.''

''Alright, missy.''

''I don't know how I even ended up here.''

After the race, Heidi, Daniel's girlfriend, had suggested to Y/N that she and her would get their nails re-done together, sponsored by the Honey Badger himself. The female driver had found it a great idea, looking forward to spending time with Heidi as they had never really hung out with just the two of them.

However, Heidi fell sick and wasn't able to make it anymore to their little manicure date. At first they texted back and forth, planning to reschedule it, but Heidi had a proposal: that Daniel joins Y/N at the salon.

The young woman wasn't too sure about it, not because she didn't want to spend alone time with Daniel, but because she didn't want it to come across that she wanted to have something romantic with the older driver. Fortunately, Heidi was able to assure her that she didn't mind and that she wouldn't suggest it if she didn't have full trust in either of them. So, here the two Formula One drivers were in a beauty salon in Monza.

''You broke my nail, that's what happened.'' She replied in a sarcastic tone.

While Y/N got her nails re-done, Daniel opted for a facial as he claimed his nails were ''decent for a 33 year-old man''. They had charmed the specialists into putting them into the same room, so they could talk with one another.

Daniel wanted to laugh, but the woman spreading all kinds of creams on his face prevented him from doing that. ''Hey, I'm making it up to you, aren't I?''

''Yeah, you are,'' Y/N smiled, watching him getting his facial treatment, ''anyway, now that it's just the two of us- I have a question for you.''

Daniel raised his eyebrows, intrigued by her words. ''Go on…''

''So, what do you really think of Lando?''

''What the fuck, Y/N.''

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