Tumgik
#well as usual i'm prepared for disappointment but...
doumadono · 3 hours
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Hey um so could you do a thing with choso, nanami and/or geto (or more of u want to) comforting reader after her friends forgot about her birthday?
(Happy birthday to me ig)
-🍓
Nanami & Choso with Reader whose friends forgot about her bday - headcanons
A/N: happy belated birthday, dear Anonnie ♥
JUJUTSU KAISEN EMERGENCY REQS
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Choso
You come home with a heavy heart - your friends had completely forgotten about your birthday. The day that was supposed to be filled with joy and celebration now feels empty and lonely.
Choso is perceptive in his quiet, stoic way. He sees the sadness in your eyes, the way your shoulders sag as you drop your bag by the door. "Is something wrong?" he asks, his voice soft and steady.
You shake your head, not trusting your voice to remain steady.
Choso doesn't push. Instead, he sits beside you, his presence a quiet reassurance. After a moment of silence, he speaks again. "Please, babe. Tell me what happened."
You hesitate at first but then the words tumble out, your feelings of hurt and abandonment. "They just… forgot," you whisper. "My birthday… they forgot."
He gently cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear you didn't realize had fallen. "I'm sorry it happened."
Choso then leads you to the living room, where he has quietly set up a small, but heartfelt surprise. There's a cake he must have bought earlier, and a small gift wrapped in neat paper. "I hope I chose the good flavor of the cake," he murmurs, a rare, small smile gracing his lips. "Happy birthday, babe."
He lights a single candle on the cake and looks at you expectantly. "Make a wish."
You close your eyes, the loneliness beginning to fade as you blow out the candle. When you open your eyes, Choso's smiling at you.
The two of you spend the evening together, sharing the cake and stories.
Choso's presence is comforting, his usually reserved nature softened by his genuine care for you.
After the cake, he brings you the gift. "I got if for you months ago," he admits, handing it to you.
You open it to find a beautifully bound journal, something you've been wanting for a while. Tears of gratitude fill your eyes. "Thank you, Choso. This means so much to me."
He smiles, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "You deserve to feel special, today and every day. Never forget that."
"Thank you, Choso," you say, feeling your heart lift. "This means more than you know."
"Babe. You mean the world to me," he replies simply, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes.
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Nanami
The day has been long and disappointing. You find yourself in the living room, staring blankly at the TV.
Initially, Nanami notices your quiet demeanor throughout the day, sensing something amiss. He's observant like that. Finally, he approaches you, calmly asking, "Is something bothering you?"
You try to brush it off at first, not wanting to trouble him with your own problems. "It's nothing, really. Just a silly thing," you say, trying to smile.
Nanami, however, isn't one to accept vague answers. He sits beside you, his presence calming. "I find it hard to believe that it's nothing. You're not your usual self today."
You finally confess, "It's just… my friends forgot about my birthday. It's silly, I know."
Nanami doesn't dismiss your feelings as trivial. Instead, he nods understandingly. "It's not silly. Birthdays hold significance to people. I understand why you might feel hurt. I'm sorry your friends forgot."
You nod, trying to hold back tears. "It just… it hurt, you know?"
Nanami gives your hand a comforting squeeze. "I can only imagine."
You look down, feeling the tears start to well up.
Nanami gently tilts your chin up so you meet his eyes. "But that doesn't mean your birthday has to be ruined. Let me make it special for you."
"How?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He stands, pulling you to your feet. "Come with me," he says, leading you to the kitchen. There, he starts preparing your favorite meal, moving with a quiet efficiency. As he cooks, he talks to you about his day, sharing small anecdotes and observations, slowly coaxing you out of your shell. His calm demeanor and steady presence begin to lift your spirits.
When the meal is ready, he sets the table with an almost ritualistic precision, ensuring everything is perfect.
You sit down, and he places a single candle in the center of the table, lighting it with a small, thoughtful smile. "Happy birthday, sweetie," he says, his voice warm and sincere.
You smile, feeling the warmth of his gesture seep into your heart. The food is delicious, but more than that, it's the care and effort Nanami put into making this moment special that truly touches you.
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writing annotations for sources is one of the most annoying things ever and i just spent the last hour writing 15 annotations and now my hands hurt like hell and i wanna end it all bc i literally turned the assignment in with 1 minute remaining (and several annotations had to be compromised to get it in so i'm also sad i turned in subpar work, even if it's better than no work at all) and i still had work to do for a few of them, and a few typos slipped past and i even got 2 citations wrong.
#james talks#literally there's so much fucking research i've done today my brain is officially fried#there's nothing going on in there rn#literally not only read 1.5 novels today but also found and annotated 15 sources on Mansfield Park and Maria or The Wrongs of Woman and--#the construction of the patriarchy and systems of power in england in the 18th century and how women were subjugated by them and--#how they were also complicit in their construction and perpetuated those systems and how the laws of england also oppressed the women#i literally had to skim through half the papers to get the annotations done so i'm sure some of them aren't even entirely accurate#but my professor is already weeks behind on grading so she's not gonna check and actually read all the sources#but it's just annoying and disappointing that i couldn't get it done to my usual standards.#some of my annotations were only like 3 sentences and some only got a little bit of research and others got a bunch--#and it's really noticeable but here's to hoping my professor doesn't give enough of a shit to dock points for it.#anyway i would be so happy if i never had to do another annotated bibliograpy or literature review in my life.#literally gonna go put on some music and lie in bed and try to relax and hopefully get some sleep#though i had to take 4 cups of coffee to power through today's mountain of work so sleep is not very likely atm#anyway i have a whole day's of youtube to catch up with as well#and i have to do more research and a powerpoint for a class presentation on monday that i can't actually do until late sunday bc--#i won't be at home this weekend since i have to go to my aunt's and my laptop is broken and it's annoying to do on my phone#and i obviously can't take my whole computer to her place#AND i have to prepare for finals in a week and turn in a bunch of creative writing to my writing groups and start 4 multi-page papers#literally i'm gonna kill myself at this rate#jesus christ i'm spiraling. let me go try to relax for a while.
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neroushalvaus · 5 months
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Okay I am going to use the Somerton situation to talk about something that is very important to me. Following the discussion I have seen former Somerton fans being disappointed in themselves and questioning how they can ever trust another video essayist again. I have also seen some people being smug because to them Somerton was obviously unreliable from the start. As a person who also saw the "red flags" in Somerton, I would like to skip the smugness and talk a bit about what the red flags were to me.
Someone else has probably posted something similar and Hbomberguy's & Todd in the Shadows's videos touched a few of these points, but they didn't focus on them or how to spot these things. I think it is a good thing: I think it would have reinforced the idea that Somerton's fans were to blame for being lied to, and these youtubers didn't want to pin any blame on the fans. Also, some of the things I'm going to talk about were not by any means proof of him being unreliable, they were common tropes I personally associate with people who are bullshitting on internet. Think of it as something like spotting terfs: If you consider following a tumblr user and find out they have at some point posted "males will always be a danger to females no matter what they say", it is very possible that they are not a terf. Maybe they were having a bad day and were just wording their post badly – But you should probably search "trans" from their blog before following them, just to be sure.
So, the tropes in James Somerton's content that I consider red flags:
Lack of sources. This one may seem obvious and Hbomb talked about this in his video, but the lack of sources in his videos was outrageous. Video essays are called essays for a reason, they are not supposed to be just a guy talking about whatever comes to his mind, they should be well researched essays. Obviously video essays should contain one's own thoughts and interpretations and those do not need citations. But James Somerton didn't come out of the womb knowing everything about LGBT history, Disney and film theory, if he actually knew something about all this stuff, he should have learnt it from somewhere. There should be sources he could point to. It is very common that even when a video essayist doesn't tell you where they got all their information, they open their video by saying stuff like "when I prepared for this video I read the book Also sprach Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche and this one thrilling blog post about lesbian cruising in 1960s Sweden". From what I've seen, James does not really do this. From watching his videos you could arrive to the conclusion that James Somerton does not read any books, he just knows everything. There are situations where people don't feel the need to add sources, like when the information is considered common knowledge or when the topic relates heavily to the essayist's actual academic field or profession. This is okay and very understandable, but can sometimes be dangerous, since if the video essayist markets himself as a marketing specialist, people are more likely to take his word for stuff that has to do with marketing, even without sources. It is understandable that in many situations an essayist may think "why should I cite a source? I know this thing!", but doing your research well is partly about checking if the information you are certain of is actually true. Also, as Hbomb pointed out, if you can cite a source, your audience can go learn more about the subject. It's not about anyone doubting you know your stuff, it's about learning. That's why well-respected video essayists usually cite their sources very clearly.
Lack of pictures and screenshots. This is about different kinds of sources again, many things on this list are kind of about sources. An example: When James Somerton made a video about JKR, he mentioned something about Rowling at one time saying that trans students in 30-50Feralhogs (or whatever the wizard school is called) could use magic to present as their gender. If this was any other video essayist, you'd expect a tweet to pop up, or something else confirming Rowling ever said this. Nothing pops up, obviously because Rowling didn't say this, but you can't see anything fishy in that because things rarely pop up in Somerton's videos. He doesn't show you court documents when speaking about a court case, he doesn't show you the comments apparently mad at him for implying the gay anime is gay when he is complaining about people being mad at him. There is a reason people show screenshots and tweets in video essays. When a good video essayist says JK Rowling has tweeted that all people who menstruate should be referred to as women, the video essayist shows the tweet so people know they are not making it up. If there were hoards of annoying bitc-- I mean, angry white women whining about gay sex in HuffPost articles or Somerton's youtube comments, he should have no trouble showing you those. Remember that you should not trust someone just because they show you pictures or screenshots. Pictures can be photoshopped, screenshots can be doctored. Many youtubers are aware that you listen to their videos while cleaning or while walking your dog and don't actually see the screen all the time, and some may take advantage of that by saying something like "and here she threatened to kill me" while showing a text message where someone said "die mad about it". A screenshot alone isn't much but you should demand to see the screenshot.
Passive voice. I am once again bitching about this. Somerton repeatedly says things like "it's been said that" or "it was common knowledge that" or "a legend says that" or "according to most interpretations". He doesn't say who says it, making it very hard to fact check and that seems to be his goal in some cases.
Relying heavily on anecdotes. Writing a dense, analytical video about film theory or history can be exhausting and you may want to pepper in little fun facts. However Somerton seemed to rely on these heavily; he can't just talk about how he has totally bought every lie told by The Pink Swastika, he also needs to tell a cute little anecdote about SS men forcing sexual favours out of men. He can't just tell a story about a court case, he needs to add in ridiculous stuff about the jury booing. This is what I mean by not all the things on this list being necessarily proof of someone being unreliable. Many people use anecdotes and little stories in their storytelling, it makes the videos flow better and it's hard to decide which anecdotes are valid and which are not. A source obviously makes an anecdote a bit more believable, but here are some things that instantly make me fact check an anecdote:
It's a bit too convenient, poetic or ironic. Sometimes real life is weirder than fiction but if an anecdote is "perfect" and has an amazing punchline and you could write twelve poems about it, there is a possibility it was invented by pop science books.
It assumes your political enemies are stupid. Dunking on conservatives, MRAs and transphobes is always fun and after you've seen a lot of this kind of content it's easy to believe anything about these people. You must resist the impulse to believe everything that may make your opponents look stupid.
The person telling the anecdote implies it is an example of a larger, systemic problem. You know what's worse than taking a random happenstance from human history or internet and basing an entire political theory on it? The said random happenstance being made up. You should in general be wary of people telling one story and explaining why it's an example of everything that's wrong in the world. We live in a huge world. You can always find a white woman who loves cute gays but hates the idea of Nick Heartstopper and Charlie Heartstopper getting nasty but that doesn't mean it's an indicator of a larger issue.
Simplifying complex issues. We all know that "only the boring gays survived the AIDS crisis, and that's why gays started to only care about marriage equality and military" is a horrible, insensitive thing to say, but you also have to think about it for like two seconds to realize that it can't be correct. It kind of reminds me of the "roe v wade caused the crime drop of 1990s" claim in Freakonomics. It sounds logical and simple, like a basic math calculation. Societal issues rarely are like that, though. You should never believe anyone who tells you about a huge societal shift and says it happened because of one thing and one thing only.
These were some of the things I noticed in Somerton's content that caused me to distrust him. I hope these were helpful to you and feel free to add your own "red flags" if you feel like it!
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wrioluvr · 4 months
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『shhh, not so loud! make me. huh?』 slutty sub yandere x gentle himbo darling, male yandere x male reader
note: thank u all the support on pt 1 ♡♡ was thinking about a scenario where slutty yandere somehow manages to convince his darling to actually fuck him after a lot of begging... even tho reader is scared his large cock will break him apart <3 pt 1
cw: he/him pronouns for reader, mentions of reader's ex-boyfriends, loss of yandere's virginity, implied violence
nervous was the way you were feeling as you made your way to your boyfriend's house. the two of you had started dating a few weeks ago, when after you'd let him suck your dick, he broke down crying, admitted to how desperately he was in love with you, and pleaded on his knees for you to own him and treat him as your personal fucktoy. frantically, you quickly assured him you would treat him as an equal in the relationship, to his slight disappointment. of course, he was ecstatic that you'd agreed to be his boyfriend, but you were his god, how could he not worship such a kind being? in your eyes, despite his rather.... overly submissive behaviour, he was kinda cute, so why not give it a go? if only you knew how deep his obsession truly ran...
and with an progression in your relationship, came a progression in intimacy level as well. the previous day, he had gathered up the courage to ask you to top him, which is why you were making your way to his apartment now. the current fear you were feeling was not for yourself, but for him, you worried that he would hurt himself trying to bottom. you were aware you were bigger than most guys... you wondered how to tell him you weren't too sure about the whole anal thing after all.
but what you did not expect to see the moment you opened the door to his room, was him on his bed on all fours, ass up, using his index and middle finger to spread his tight pink hole towards you. he turned his head around at the sound of your arrival and looked back at you with lust-filled, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. "baby! thank god you're finally here... please fuck me already, i've been waiting for hourssss......." his words came out in a pitiful whine.
your eyes widen at his plea. "woah, okay, let's slow down." quickly, you make him sit up, much to his confusion. he was already ready, so why were you hesitant?
taking his hand and squeezing it gently, you tell him what's on your mind. "okay, uh... i'm not too sure if i want to fuck you right now..."
"wha- but- but why? you promised!"
"i know i did, but i'm worried for you. i know i'm kinda... big, so i don't want to make you bleed or anything..."
at your reasoning, he can't help but whine in frustration. don't you understand? he doesn't care about how much it hurts! he wants it to hurt! his one wish is for you to completely destroy him! usually he'd back down, since he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with his desperation, but he decided to be a little selfish.
reaching over and fondling your crotch, he looked at you with a silent, horny plea in his eyes, then proceeded to sit in your lap and grind on your bulge sensually. he whimpered as your clothed dick got harder and prodded at his hole.
taken back by his sudden boldness, you let him straddle you. "hey... did you even listen to anything i said?"
"forgive me, darling. but i want this so bad. give it to me, pretty please?" he continues to roll his hips on your crotch, not sounding terribly sorry at all.
you sigh, realising you can't change his mind. "okay, just let me know if it hurts, and i'll stop immediately. alright?"
"mhm." but secretly, he'd moan in pleasure no matter how painful it was, relishing in it.
"at least let me prepare you first...?"
"i've been fingering myself for the past hour, you don't need to." he giggled, as he got back down on all fours on his bed, hoping you were proud of his forward thinking. "i want our first time to be special, so i'm fully prepared."
"wait... you're a virgin?" upon hearing your question, he turned his head back to look at you with an incredulous expression on his pretty face, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"but of course, i've been saving myself for you. i don't want anyone else using me." he bit his lip, making sure you knew how much he valued you taking his virginity. he suddenly realised how he'd completely forgotten to ask (or stalk to find out) about your past relationships. "what about you, darling? are you a virgin?" secretly, he was hoping the answer would be yes, but deep down he knew you were far too desirable for that to be true.
"nah. i dated a few guys before, but they broke up with me because they said i was too dumb." you'd never really thought about it deeply, but saying it out loud made you realise that it was rather embarrassing...
"how the fuck could they say that? you're so perfect and kind... forget about them, darling... just focus on me. you won't need to think about those ungrateful whores ever again." his change in tone caught you off guard, grip tightening around your arm. this was the first time he'd ever sounded genuinely pissed off. but this was quickly masked by his usual lovesick smile as he resolved to make you feel so good, your attention would forever be on him and him only.
eagerly, he helped you undress and tried not to blush at the sight of your naked body, even as he relished in the sight of the cock he had gotten on his knees for so many times before. you were confused at his reaction. "we're both guys, why are you embarrassed?" you were so silly sometimes. he was finally going to be made your bitch, of course he would be flustered!
with your cock teasing his entrance, he made his final invitation. "i want you to mess me up inside." he begged as he spread his virgin hole open, groaning in pain and pleasure as you pushed halfway into him. immediately, you looked up to his face in concern. "you okay? it's only halfway in..." "fuck, i said i can take it!" with that, he pushed himself onto your cock with a lewd determination, letting out an overly passionate moan as you fully entered him. instinctively, you shushed him, not wanting the neighbours to hear. "shhh! you're being too loud....." "make me." he retorts defiantly, trying to rile you up so you would be rougher. "huh?" fuck, he was really pushing it today. you really didn't want to, but he was making far too much noise. resorting to muting him forcefully, you reach for his mouth and clamp your hands over it, effectively gagging him. his eyes widen, not expecting you to take the bait, but he's in heaven. you can practically see the hearts in his eyes as he sluttily sucks on your fingers, all that's left is a series of muffled whimpers.
even though your mind was currently preoccupied with the way your boyfriend's squeezing your cock, you can't help but think about your exes after he brought the topic up. you knew you were a little dumber than most, but did all those guys really break up with you just because you were stupid? he seemed to sense your feelings and clenched harder, making you lose focus and grip his hips tightly. the thought of you thinking about your exes while you were inside him was horrible, he couldn't have that at all! "s-see, darling, my ass is much better than those sluts, isn't it- uuummfff." he could barely form words as he continued to ride you up and down, savouring the way your large length stretched his inner walls to their limit. it was quite the stark contrast - you were thrusting in and out of him at a tender pace, making sure you were never too rough (feeling a little guilty for muffling him so forcefully just now), but yet he was whimpering and writhing all over the bed, gripping the sheets whenever you hit his prostrate at regular intervals. he desperately tried to fuck himself on your cock when you slowed down, noticing his tears, begging you to start again. after a bit, you felt like you were about to reach your climax. "hey, i'm about to co-" "do it inside me." you didn't have time to argue as he pulled you closer into a hug, making you cum inside him, much to his delight. he adored the way you filled him up, feeling you pump load after load into his hole. he rubbed his stomach, wishing he could get pregnant with your child. but alas, he can't have everything. today was already a huge victory. exhausted, he collapsed into your arms as you stroked his hair, apologising for being a little rough and hoping his ass didn't hurt too much. he couldn't really focus on what you were saying as he just lay there and stared up at you affectionately. god, you were just perfect, weren't you?
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
in the middle of night, as you slept peacefully, the boy you fucked a few hours ago had just finished going through your phone, his one objective being obtaining the names of your exes. "don't worry, darling.... i'll take care of those unappreciative bastards myself. no one gets to make you feel stupid." he whispers to your ear lovingly before getting out of bed. he hoped you wouldn't be too mad when you found out he killed them when you woke up. or maybe he did, just so you could punish him. ♡
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wolfsub-rom · 2 months
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I like the idea of big bro cooing me into spreading my legs and touching my pussy very lightly, almost no pressure or friction at all. Commenting how wet I am and how it's throbbing and aching to be used. Then he pulls his phone out and opens the camera app. "Uhh... What are you doing?" I ask, "shh... it's okay... only I will see them... you look so pretty and helpless... Ssh..." Big bro keeps coos, very gently as he takes plenty pictures.
The next day he brings his friends home and introduces me to them by showing the pictures and encouraging them to check it for themselves. Big brother holds me on his lap and makes me feel safe enough so they can start stripping me naked, they all keep touching and lightly fingering my pussy, getting rougher each time, but little bro keeps me calm and safe as they violate me.
Suddenly they start betting how long will I take to cum and begin to decide who is going in first. What do they mean? First? What will they do? But big bro stops them. "I'm his first. Isn't it right, little one?" He gives me the usual big bro peck on the lips, only to start to get wetter and more passionate as he inserted his tongue. His friends cheer and some of them even smack my pussy a little during the kiss. They all start to rub one off as my big bro unzips his pants and pulls out his dick. He rubs it in my little hole a little before aligning it in the entrance. "Um... Big bro...? I- mmh-ah!" He slams it in with no further preparation. It went deep and fully hard... It hurts a lot and I felt something inside my no no parts tear apart. His friends laugh and smack my pussy. They keep commenting about my flower being torn... what? I start to cry, big bro coos me licks my tears, waiting not even a second before beginning to move. "Sssh... It's okay, little one... I know it hurts, but big bro is here... Oh so tight... Look how much blood is coming out..." He chuckles... If big bro isn't sad, then I think if okay. His friends are touching their no no parts as well, they keep coming closer to me. Pointing to my face, my parts, my mouth... Big bro bounces me as fast as he can. I like this play of horsey... It's getting warm and tingling... Uh maybe too tingly... "Big bro... I'm... Unh I'm going to pee..." When he hears this, he immediately starts to bounce me faster, pulling himself almost complete our and slamming back in, pressing my tummy "no... don't worry, baby..." He grunts "it's something better... Keep holding it until big bro says it's time, okay?" I moan in response and keep enjoying his horsey play... His friends start to grunt loudly too, just like big bro... Big bro tells me to look closely to their parts "show him your jizz, he'll love it" he tells a friend. They spurt their cum soon after, being followed by the others... I'm covered with it, it's warm and drippy... I touch some of it as big bro encourages me to rub it on my body... Uh... It feels good... My head is getting empty... I can't think... Uhhh... I really have to pee...
"aah! Big bro... I'm peeing..." I moan. "Go on. Cum! Cum for big bro!" He grunts, filling me up with his cum. It's so much... Moving inside me as he slows down. I spurt some too. He was right, it was not pee, but it was kinda the same release... My head is all wobbly and I'm on the verge of passing out. Big bro smacks my, now creamy, pussy and shushed me right after "no no. No nap time now, baby!" He says pulling out of me, I feel all his cum drip slowly out of my pussy. "B-but... I'm all.. uh..." It's so hard to think right now, I can't even finish the sentence before one of his friends slams his dick inside me. Ugh the torn tissue inside still hurts a little. "No buts. All my friends came here just to see you. It's not polite to refuse your pussy like this... Big bro is very disappointed." He says petting my head in a demeaning way. "N-no" I can be g-good..." He pecks my lips . "Of course you can... Now, I trust you to stay awake and let my friends enjoy your defloration party, okay?" I nod and take in his friend's cock as best as I can. Anything for big bro...
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killuintense · 9 months
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could you write a one shot of Leon and fem!reader talking about having a baby together? Leon assuming he would have to go easy on the alcohol and y/n happy to give Leon baby plsss ily<3 vvvv
❝ baby fever ❞
leon kennedy x fem!reader.
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summary: the idea of confessing to you that incessant idea in his head to tell you that you would be an excellent mother, was consuming Leon.
content: 1.3k words, fluff, mention of pregnancy, a very cheesy and sweet Leon, mention of alcoholism, comfort.
note: i loved placing your request, thank you very much for making it and i hope you enjoy it, ilyyyy ♡ ♡
The night seemed to be calm and typical for that season of the year. The breeze was gently breezing and ruffling Leon's ashen hair as he quietly opened the door of the house without trying to make too much noise. It wasn't too late, but he didn't want to be loud, especially after spending all day at the main D.S.O. base taking care of paperwork and reports after his last assignment at Alcatraz prison. He laughed when he remembered your concern the moment you learned that he had been infected by a virus, blaming you for not accompanying him as you usually did being an important agent of the association.
"Ahmmm..." he heard a soft sound emitted by you from the kitchen and soon remembered that little detail. Your best friend had asked you as a last minute favor to babysit her baby for that whole day as family problems had arisen. She remembered the image of the morning. You, holding in your arms that little girl with golden hair and chubby cheeks, you and your look of love and tenderness. Leon would bet that he had never seen you make that face before, and a strange feeling welled up in his chest. Almost as if from his heart exploding in a feverish sense of need it was present "So goood, what a good girl, you like applesauce, don't you?" a complicit chuckle let itself be heard and Leon hesitated to enter the kitchen where your voice came from. He hesitated because he knew that if he came in and saw you behaving in such a natural and loving way with the little baby, many incoherent words and impulsive ideas would come out of his mouth.
However, the day had been long enough without wanting to see his beloved so he didn't hesitate to leave his blue leather jacket hanging in the entrance and enter the kitchen, watching how you held little Rosemary in your arms and gave her that preparation with enthusiasm "My love..." it almost came out in a sigh, and you admired it with surprise.
"Leon!" the excitement could be heard in your voice and dazzled in your eyes "I didn't hear the door, I'm sorry I didn't welcome you, Honey" you smiled and took the baby's little hand to improvise a greeting to Leon. He could feel his face heat up and if it wasn't for the baby on top of you, he would have run to lock you in his arms, sinking into a kiss that only he was capable of giving you. Before he could speak any more, though, the doorbell rang and soon you both realized that it was probably your friend finally showing up as promised.
He could see the disappointment in your eyes, knowing that if it was for you you could have her for another day playing with your cheeks as she laughed with amusement; and the blond wondered if he couldn't fall more in love, wondered if his love for you would make him explode. He needed to make you more his than you already were. He needed to sink into you in a different way and mark you, leave something of him forever in you.
"I really wish she would have stayed longer" you mentioned once the baby joyfully welcomed her mother's arms "You know you can trust me if you need help again" you offered and exchanged words of encouragement with your friend, cheering her up and congratulating her on having such a beautiful baby. Leon also waved, stood behind you with that soft smile he was only naturally able to do when he had you around. But he wasn't being enough. He wanted to close the damn door and tell you about that crazy idea that had been going around in his head since that morning he saw you with a little baby in your arms, about that feeling that invaded him when he took you by the waist hugging you and leaving a kiss on your lips and a soft caress on the little one's cheek before saying goodbye and leaving for work. He felt for the first time the feeling of a.... family. A family he only wanted to have if it was with you.
"Ah..." once you closed the door you stretched and yawned, hanging on the back of Leon's neck to hug him tightly "I really miss you today, big boy" you teased at the nickname, depositing a kiss on his jawline as scarred as it was rough, feeling the stubble of a couple of days unshaven.
"I missed you more..." he seemed as self-absorbed as ever, moving his hands from your waist to your belly, caressing it gently. It caught your attention that he would do that, of course, but you assumed he was affectionate because of the distance and remoteness that had consumed you during that week due to work. But you didn't think that Leon's mind was wandering in a need so primitive that it even saddened him "You really would make an excellent mother" he suddenly blurted out, staring at you as he gently bumped his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, sorry for pushing you into that situation.
"Is that a proposal, Kennedy?" you smiled, you loved it when he got shy like that. That remembered you when he was younger and still didn't know how to handle himself, how he wasn't able to carry all the traumas he had on his shoulders. "Leon... do you really think I would make a good mother?" you asked unsurely, a pressure in your chest made as it dawned on you that Leon wanted you to be the mother of his children. That he wanted to take that step with you.
"Obviously! Fuck, sometimes I find myself thinking about that too much" he smiled, kissing your cheek repeatedly causing you to giggle in amusement "Can you imagine? A little girl running all over the house, accompanying us everywhere, laughing and being happy..." his voice trailed off softly and he smiled "Being happy like we would have liked to be at some point. Not thinking about abandonment and the sadness of not having a home to return to" he squeezed your waist, as if trying to be aware that you were there, that you hadn't faded away. "And I know that last year was terrible... but I need to start again, I need to forget that I can drown my sorrows in alcohol" he murmured, ashamed of himself.
"Leon..." you took his cheek and smiled, kissing his lips softly "You'll make an excellent father, you know that, don't you?" a sparkle came into Leon's eyes, almost as if the hope of a future was opening in front of him, holding your hand, happy to move forward "Although to be honest, I'd like a mini Leon" you laughed, brushing your nose against his, in a sweet Eskimo kiss.
"If it's with you I wouldn't mind having a litter of mini Leons" he joked, though in a corner of his mind his almost animal instinct thought that if you let him he was capable of filling you completely until you couldn't take any more. 'We're not rabbits... for now' he thought, and chuckled to himself before he felt you pull away to go to the kitchen.
"Especially since I'm sure if she grows up to be a girl, she's going to be a spoiled daddy's princess" you said loud enough for him to hear and started cleaning up the dishes you had messed up during the day. Soon a giggle came closer and Leon's soft footsteps came into view, catching you around the waist as he let out a mocking sigh in your ear, sending a burst of electricity down your spine.
"Don't be like that, if you love that I spoil you, mh" he kissed your neck and you couldn't help but feel your body temper. You wouldn't give up that feeling of need for anything, that feeling of Leon wanting and having the instinct to take you in a way beyond what himself could have thought. You couldn't wait for the day to come, to one day have the privilege of having a seed of him growing inside you.
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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fmokx
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fmokx [English] n. jealousy, envy
Anonymous Request: "What are your thoughts on writing jealous Neteyam fics?"
Neteyam gets jealous when Lo'ak makes you laugh.
Adult Neteyam. | 1,125 Words
A laughter overtook me, so much so that my body was shaking and tears pricked at the corner of my eyes.
"Lo'ak, stop!" I hollered, pushing him away from me. His impression of my mother was too spot on, it was making my sides hurt.
"Oh, Y/N, this hair... you expect, like this, to find a mate?" he mocked her shrill tone, grabbing one of my braids between his fingers and eyeing it with a disappointed look.
Gasping for breath, I doubled over with laughter. It was such a relief to let loose with a friend and be able to joke about my mother, my greatest source of stress, and it just felt so good.
"Please, my sides hurt," I said, and Lo'ak finally let up, laughing right along with me. I bumped my hip into his, and we smiled at each other. "Thank you. I was in need of a good laugh."
"Any time, pal," he replied, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
--
Seething, Neteyam watched as Y/N laughed and smiled at his younger brother. There was nothing Lo'ak could be saying to her that would be that funny. Lo'ak was an idiot, and he was not funny, and that could only mean that Y/N had a crush on Lo'ak.
No one would laugh so hard at someone else's joke unless they had a crush on them. Especially not Lo'ak's joke.
She had never laughed at his jokes like that.
Not that he made many jokes... did he? He tried to remember. Y/N certainly smiled at him a lot, but he'd really never seen her laugh as hard as she was laughing now. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone at all laugh that hard, in fact. They were really putting on a show.
She pressed her side into Lo'ak's, and the two shared a smile that made Neteyam's stomach turn. He nearly did throw up when Lo'ak wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him.
When the two parted, Neteyam stalked towards his brother, and shoved him from behind, hard.
"What the-" Lo'ak turned around, defensive, and saw his brother standing there. "What's your problem?"
"My problem?" Neteyam hissed, looking around to make sure no one could hear them. "Why are you making her laugh like that?"
Lo'ak looked over his shoulder, to where Y/N had disappeared into the jungle, back towards Home Tree. "Y/N? We were talking about her mom." Lo'ak narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Are you jealous?" His shock and anger turned to glee, and a devious smile spread across his face. "You like her!"
Neteyam rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Lo'ak." He shoved his brother to the side, walking past him, hoping to get out of this conversation.
"Well, she likes you, too," Lo'ak said, and Neteyam stopped, turning on his heel. Lo'ak's smile grew as he gloated. "Yep. She told me so herself."
Neteyam practically stomped back to his brother. "You lie."
Lo'ak rolled his eyes. "She's always liked you, and you're being a moron. I'm just funnier than you. That's why she laughed. I am allowed to make my friends laugh, even if you're in love with them."
With a grunt, Neteyam left his brother there to find a place to be alone, and think.
--
I pulled back tightly on my bow, as the Tapirus bent down to drink from the stream before it.
Taking a deep breath in, I focused and aimed, preparing to release.
A loud noise from behind me cause the Tapirus to panic, and scurry away into some nearby bushes. I released my arrow, but it was too late - he was gone, and the arrow landed with a thwack into the dirt.
"Bah!" I exclaimed in anger, and charged forward to retrieve my arrow. Turning, I saw Neteyam appearing through the foliage before me.
"Neteyam!" I hissed. "Why are you being so loud? You cost me my kill!" Neteyam was usually so quiet in the jungle, he'd snuck up on me many times. This was unlike him.
"Oh," he said, looking crestfallen. "Sorry."
Sheathing my arrow, I sighed. "No, I'm sorry for snapping. Are you okay?" I asked. Neteyam looked nervous, or jittery, or... something. He didn't look like his usual calm, confident self.
"Oh, yeah. I, uh, I just wanted to see you." He reached behind his head, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact pointedly.
I spread my arms out wide. "Well, I am here." I spun around in a circle. "Take a good look." My anger was melting away by the second, but of course, I had trouble staying mad at Neteyam.
Neteyam sighed. "Beautiful."
My eyes snapped wide open, and we stared at each other for a quiet moment.
"You think I'm beautiful?" I asked. Neteyam had never said anything like that to me before, and we had been what I would consider friends, for a while. Maybe not as good of friends as I was with Lo'ak, but still close.
It was quiet for just an awkward moment. "Do you think I'm funny?" Neteyam asked.
"Well... sometimes you are, yes," I replied, narrowing my eyes at his odd line of questioning.
"Do you think Lo'ak is funny?"
I could not help but smile, thinking about Lo'ak and I's conversation earlier that same day. "Sometimes he is. Well, sometimes he doesn't mean to be, but still is."
Neteyam frowned. Was Neteyam jealous of Lo'ak and I's friendship? That would come as a pleasant surprise to me.
"Lo'ak is funnier than you, Neteyam. But..." I cleared my throat and stepped forward. "You are more handsome than him. You are more thoughtful than him," I reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards me. "You are certainly kinder than him, and smarter too. Lo'ak is many wonderful things, and he is my friend, but I prefer you in many ways."
Neteyam's sad look softened into one that looked something like surprise, and maybe pleasure.
"Do you?"
"Yes. In fact, I was recently telling Lo'ak just how much... I prefer you."
Neteyam reached out with his other hand, putting it on my lower back, and I realized just how close were standing to one another. Practically nose to nose.
"I would like to kiss you, Y/N," Neteyam whispered, his warm breath on my face.
All I could do was nod. Very slowly, Neteyam leaned down and tenderly pressed his lips to mine, just for a few moments. When he pulled away, we were both grinning like fools.
"I would never, ever, ever want to do that with Lo'ak," I said, and Neteyam threw his head back and laughed.
Maybe I was funny enough for the both of us.
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esmedelacroix · 16 days
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All the ways you disappoint me.
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pairing: boyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader
summary: The honeymoon phase confirmed it's existence for the second year of dating Miguel. Your love life went from flourishing to one-sided the day Miguel revealed to you that he was Spiderman.
cw: ooc miguel, very angsty, depressive behaviors, alcohol abuse
a/n: I have been on hiatus for a very long time. I've been in a very dark place this past month. I lost a very good friend of mine that I have known since middle school. Which really threw me off track. I have a bunch of works in progress coming out soon. I finally feel like I'm in a mentally okay spot to pick up writing again. This is lowk just word vomit but its something.
*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !
miguel masterlist | next part
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Disappointment. A feeling you you felt often. Maybe even too often. You were very familiar with disappointment. He only ever came around late at night. Disappointment would wrap his arms around you as if he wasn't the reason why there was a wet spot on your pillowcase almost every night.
All Miguel O'Hara ever does is disappoint you. "So why are you still with him?" your good friend Jess asked over hot morning tea.
"What am I supposed to do without him?" you questioned.
"That's not a very healthy mindset to have. You know that," Jess said putting a firm comforting hand over yours.
You look away for a moment. Eyes trailing out the window of the Spider Society Café that reeked of coffee and broken promises. Miguel O'Hara was married to the barista who would hand him five coffees minimum a day. He chose to marry the barista and work and not his own girlfriend of three years.
As you watched the birds create an arrow in the air flying north over the firey trees below. Part of you wished that you were a bird in this very moment flying away from the problems that devoured your brain from the inside. "You still with me?" Jess asked worriedly.
"Yeah," you sighed turning back to her.
"So you'll talk to Miguel tonight?" Jess commanded. She did that a lot. She would ask a question that sounded like an order which made you feel the need to obey. You simply nodded bringing your mug to your lips and sipping on your now-cold Earl Grey tea.
"Isn't it strange how quickly tea gets cold?" you thought out loud.
"Well that's kind of how tea works hon'," she answered.
. . .
You stopped waiting for Miguel to come home ages ago because you didn't think there was a point in it. Just like how you didn't see the point in trying to talk to him about putting effort into your relationship. In the same way you shouldn't have seen the point in staying with him after your last thousand arguments. You felt your eyelids get heavier with every passing hour you spent staring at the ceiling waiting to hear the door swing open.
Like you summoned him with your mind, you heard the door. The keys. The sigh. And the footsteps. Your heart began to race. Why am I nervous? You asked yourself. You stood up and walked out of your shared room.
Miguel's usual routine was to get home eat the food you prepared for him hours prior, shower, and go to bed. As you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, you stopped yourself before turning the corner. Inhale. Exhale. You stepped out into the kitchen and his head shot up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. That’s new. An apology, from Miguel. You thought to yourself.
"No, no, I was having trouble sleeping," you answered in a quiet voice.
"Everything alright?" he questioned as he scraped the last bit of food on his plate into his mouth.
"Yeah, I've just been thinking," you started.
"About?" he asked urging you to continue.
"Miguel do you still love me?" you blurted out.
"Of course I do," he replied in a fraction of a second. He sounded almost hurt that you had even asked that question.
Moments like these make you forget the status of your relationship. Moments when Miguel would forget that he's supposed to be cold to you. The moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down around you. Those fleeting moments that should have never left your relationship. "Then why don't we spend any time together? I want to be around you Miguel, I don't care if we sit in silence in the most boring place on the planet. I just want to be in your presence," you admitted. He gave you that little hurt expression again.
"I—I've just been busy," he stuttered. Miguel would often do this thing where he would begin to say something and then cut himself off and choose to say something else.
"Miguel, you know you can tell me anything," you insisted.
"I just—can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded.
You gave him a frown. "Can we sleep it off? Talk about it in the morning?" he sighed rubbing his face.
"Will you even be here in the morning?" you ask under your breath.
"I'll see," he said putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked past you into the bathroom. He did it again. He cut off the conversation the moment it got hard for him. Why are we so complicated? You asked yourself as you lay your head on your moist pillow. Will there ever be a night where I don't cry because of him? A night where he doesn't confuse me with his actions?
. . .
That night as you lay in bed with his back faced away from him, you couldn't help but cry. You felt like you were drowning in your tears. Like they were holding you back. You tried to be as quiet as possible. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. You repeated to yourself.
The only happy thoughts you could think of were of Miguel. Or the Miguel you used to know. The person he used to be before he started using his job as an excuse to neglect you.
Just then when your breathing slowed and you calmed down a bit with tears still streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you. He cuddled you from behind. He did that often. When he thought you were asleep. It was almost as if different versions of himself occupied his brain. You liked the one that took the spotlight at night.
The one that would cuddle you. Nuzzle his nose into your hair. The one that would rub your back and. Apologize. To. You.
. . .
Apology fell asleep that night and disappointment woke up at the ass crack of dawn because there was another Spider-verse that needed saving.
You woke up later that morning to the usual chilling feeling of Miguel not being there. You got up stretching your arms as you walked to your kitchen. You made yourself a cup of tea and an omelette, and ate alone, in silence. Thinking. About him. Again.
For the second time this week as if you called for him with your heart, you heard the balcony door slide open and a masked man swing in. He took his mask off and shook his head adjusting his hair. "Good morning," you said with a stupid smile on your face. Why? You couldn't tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually here in the morning like he said he would be.
"Good morning. You’re in a good mood," he chuckled.
"Well you're here," you smiled.
Miguel gave you a look. You weren't sure how to feel about it. But it wasn't a bad look. It was nice. Kind of sweet. He prepared a pot of black coffee and talked about his morning in Peni Parker's universe catching a difficult anomaly. For a moment, you could feel little fireflies set off in your stomach seeing him talk about something he was passionate about.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.
"Just about us and our recent slump, I guess?" you started.
"I'm listening," he hummed as he sipped his coffee.
"I want to spend more time with you Miguel. I want to not argue with you about how much time you spend at work. I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know how you really are and not just how you say you are," you admit. Miguel stayed quiet for a while in thought.
"I don't know what to say to that," he said; his voice cracking a bit.
"You don't have to say anything just—let me be your shelter, please?" you suggested.
. . .
That night Miguel didn't come home. He didn't come in the middle of the night. He didn't come to eat either. He didn't come to wrap his arms around you. And he didn't come to apologize.
. . .
I don't like it when my friends tell me I have a drinking problem. How could it possibly be a problem if it makes me feel better about all the things that rack my brain? Being vulnerable is much easier said than done. Especially, with the girl I love. Of course, I want to tell her things. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know me as well as she knows her hometown. As well as she knows her childhood cat. And as well as she knows how to navigate Pinterest.
But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll cry and she'll think I'm weak. I'm afraid she'll think I'm unworthy. I know she would never think those things about me. But how could anyone think anything differently if I think that way about myself?
That's why I turn to the friend that won't let me down ever. Endless Modelos. Because I'm so weak that I can't even open up tp my girlfriend. Every time I feel like I am finally ready to tell her what I'm going through, I stop myself because I am afraid.
. . .
To your great surprise, Miguel wasn't there in the morning. Or the next, or even the one after that. By the third you hadn't seen him it was beginning to stress you out. You wondered if he was safe. If he was even still alive. You decided to go to the Spider Society.
After talking with Jess for a while and babysitting Mayday for a bit. You were finally free to go see Miguel in his office. You opened the door and called out to him but the only thing you heard from him was a sniff. Then two. Followed by a third.
"Miguel are you up there?" you asked as you climbed the stairs to his his platform.
"No?" he said in a shaky voice.
"Is everything okay?" you asked. You saw your answer in the form of 10 too many emptied beer bottles on his desk and on the ground.
You rushed towards him discarding your purse on the ground. He brought his hands to his face and he hid. From you. Your heart sank to the lowest pit in your stomach it could reach. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Miguel, talk to me, please?" you whispered.
Nothing.
. . .
The worst way Miguel could ever disappoint you happened. You had imagined it happening in so many other ways but not like that. You never thought of him as the type of man to give up on something so good.
For the last time in your relationship, Miguel O'Hara disappointed you when he told you he wanted to break up.
. . .
next part → All the ways I defy you
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flamingpudding · 9 days
Note
All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with
To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie
She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures
She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate
She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting
Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed
When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits
Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him
Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad
This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry
Oh I love this! Thanks you!
This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~
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Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"
Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.
Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"
Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"
"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.
"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.
"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."
Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"
"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.
"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.
"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"
The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.
"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.
"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.
"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.
"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."
"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.
"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"
"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.
"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.
"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."
"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."
"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.
The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."
The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.
On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.
"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.
Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"
"Lassie..."
"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.
Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"
"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.
"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"
"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.
The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."
"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.
"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.
"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.
"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."
There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.
The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.
Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.
263 notes · View notes
fraugwinska · 18 days
Note
I'm dying to see you write Alastor opening up to Reader about his mom, maybe a little angst and lots of fluff? (- v -)''
WE NEED THAT MOMMAS BOY GETTING SOME COMFORT!
Finally Anon, I found the strengh to write this. Sorry it took so long - I hope it was worth the wait! Next story will be less sad, I promise! :'< But I think we can all find some love for our Mommas Boy today, right? (Prepare your handkerchiefs, fellas...)
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Mother O'Mine
Not the kitchen. Not the lobby. Not the bar. Not the radio tower. Not his room.
You sighed and stilled for a moment, thinking of a place where he could've gone.
If Angel had just shut his damn mouth. Mother's day was a shit day for everyone in the hotel. You, who never knew a mother, raising yourself in the farce that had been the foster care system, rued the day. Charlie was still in denial about her mothers blatant absence and ignorance, Husk melancholic and tense at the memory of seeing his mother being exterminated shortly after reuniting with her in hell, and Vaggie bitterly wanted to ignore the holiday all together, feeling as though she would be betraying the mother she could no longer reach in heaven as a fallen angel.
Angel had been pissing them all off by breakfast, obnoxiously mocking their various reasons of why this day felt even heavier than others in hell. You knew it was his own way of coping with his mommy issues - something he didn't even talk about with Husk, as far as you knew, but he bordered on being not only menacing, but outright cruel.
Alastor had listened to his rambling stoically, flipping eggs while drinking his coffee with not much more than an annoyed twitch in his brow, but then the spider made the gruesome mistake to mention her.
Alastor's mom.
"What, 'ya think any of 'ya mothers could even look at 'ya without punchin' themselves? Come on, look me in the eyes and tell me Bambi's mommy wouldn't be fuckin' disappointed by what her little fawn has become... Can ya really see a sweet southern lady all happy, lovin', and coddling ol' murder-clown Alas..."
The green explosion came faster than you could blink. You were frozen in place, only staring in fear and worry when Angel landed unceremoniously into the table with the rest of the breakfast, the other residents as shocked and dazed as you were, while the radio static and greenish-black shadows seeped away from Alastor who then swiftly made his way out without a word, holding his staff while his tendrils bristled dangerously.
Alastor had vanished and the only thought coming to your mind - after giving a cursing, groaning Angel a righteous 'You fucking deserved that'-speech - was that you needed to find him before the princess did to make sure the demon had calmed enough not to finally lose it and maul her to pieces. Charlie meant well, but she didn't know. No one did know, except for you, and even you only knew so much.
It's not like it had been an elaborate talk. It just happened, after a nightmare that made him tear up in a mixture of rage and sorrow, a bad memory that had made his shadow basically drag you, half asleep still, from your bed to his in the middle of the night. Why you? You weren't so sure. Alastor usually preferred your company more than the others just because you were the most neutral, sane person in the hotel. Some would even say impassive. An introvert who didn't draw attention, silent and observing. But not once had his shadow ever acted up around you, and while it wasn't overly friendly with anyone, it seemed to watch mostly you with curious glances and interested hisses. When you had finally woken up enough to comprehend your situation, you were sprawled across Alastors stomach with his arms wound so tightly around you you struggled to breathe, strained mumbled words pressed through gritted teeth into your nightgown.
"Mother... I'm sorry... Oh mother..."
He had been sobbing into your shoulders and and shaking against your chest while he let go of a strange anger and grief he never seemed to get rid of while you had, confused but worried, whispered words of comfort in a hushed, soothing voice until you both dozed back to sleep. Morning broke, and when you opened your eyes again, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, not able to look you in the eyes. He had thanked you, gruffly and with an unsteady voice that made your heart ache, before offering his hand to teleport you back to your room. As far as you were concerned, the weirdest of it was that you felt him caress the palm of your hand with his thumb, barely audible as he mumbled that "that should have never have happened, and we shall never speak of it again." - he was usually a gentleman, and he never touched you this intimately before - but, to him, it was obviously a humiliating and horrible thing that you had witnessed him like that.
And you didn't speak of it. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. It was a moment you shared and fragile trust was on the table. You would take it to your second grave, along with all those feelings that had come with it, to prevent it from breaking.
Back to the present, you sighed and massaged the bridge of your nose. You had checked all the obvious places that crossed your mind, so maybe, you should start to look at the not-so-obvious ones... Maybe some place you knew was connected to... His mom...
A sudden pang hit you as you got an idea of where he might be hiding.
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"Is this seat taken?"
The roof of the hotel was usually restricted from access, due to the general instability and collapse-prone architecture it presented, but you and (after an admittedly awkward encounter on a hot day that had involved you in a two-pieced swimsuit sunbathing and a very flustered Alastor with a book in one and a severed hand on a plate in the other hand) the radio demon knew about a small nook between the roof's overhead window frames and the hotel's ventilation system, hidden by the growing shadow of the radio tower where no one else ever came looking. A hideout, a place to go when you wanted undisturbed solitude. You had quickly left the place, apologizing for intruding a space that Alastor had apparently already claimed for himself (explaining the existence of the lounge chair you've so rudely used), but soon enough he discreetly invited you back, second chair added, to sit in silence together every once in a while, as long as you swore secrecy. It became a place of comfort for both of you, a retreat when life in the hotel got too stressful.
Alastor's reaction to seeing you was a quickly stifled hum before going back to staring stubbornly at the horizon. He looked dejected, and if you would not have known him so well, you wouldn't have noticed the trembling twitch of his ears nor the way his claw tapped impatiently against his knee, his shadow balled in on itself while hovering at the edge of the small roof.
It looked like he was staring straight through the distant buildings of the pentagram to the faintly illuminated orb that was heaven next to hells own sun, while also refusing to acknowledge you or the world around him at all. His smile had slipped into an emotionless line of pursed lips.
"That depends" he mused quietly. "Are you here to make me return to that insolent arachnid and attempt a 'healing' conversation?"
"I think you know I know that I couldn't even if i wanted to." You tried a weak smile.
Alastor briefly met your eyes at that, giving away that, despite his aloof act, your comment got his attention and he considered it before turning back to the horizon, the tense posture relaxing somewhat. A brief silence passed until he hummed an affirmative noise. "Then you may sit, darling."
After sitting down, minutes passed without a word said. The distant roar of the bustling traffic carried the muffled sounds of hell with the usual maelstrom of catcalling, profanities and general noises of mayhem to you, while you fought to keep a certain twitch in your hands as you counted the beats of his heels clicking on the tiles.
"You must know... my mother was a rare light in a world of filth." he declared suddenly into the silence. "An honest, virtuous soul of beauty and strength." He said it slowly and, surprisingly, completely unamused, the clacking of his shoes ceasing at once. He stared at the city in contempt, hands clasped together and resting on his legs to hold back a tremble that you caught anyway.
"She, unlike me, had not a spec of corruption in her bones. Wherever she found the warmth and love she shared with me, I cannot fathom. But she did. I may have been mocked and shunned by the world, the bastard child of a black woman and a white man, but I always had her as my home to return to.” The knuckles on his hands turned white. “But the cruelty of life and the disgusting human that was my father, the unbearable excuse of a man, killed her before I was grown enough to help. Before I was old enough to kill that monster myself." He spat the words, claws digging deeper until a faint trickle of blood could be seen. "I remedied that circumstance, twice to be exact, although it couldn't make up for what was lost. Nothing I did to him could make up for it..." his smile widened bitterly as his face twitched, recalling a fond, yet regretful memory. "… and believe me, I tried. But it was cathartic nonetheless, and quite educational... for my further career."
You stayed quiet and studied his profile, patiently waiting for him to continue talking. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him to speak about actual feelings, with his tense grin and his white knuckles dripping with crimson blood.
"I knew, of course, where I would end up after my demise, and that I would never be able to see her again. Because I was sure she'd end up in heaven, like the saint she was. Is." He cleared his throat, attempting to appear dismissive, but you saw it. The sadness, the longing, the resignation, and it shattered your heart.
"Alastor...", you knew he hated physical touch, but your hand reached out on its own, to stop his hands from ripping themselves apart. He stiffened at the contact, but said nothing.
"Don't tell me you took what Angel said to heart..."
"How could my mother love me after what I've become after her death?"
His tone was monotonous, but his hands trembled under your fingers. He refused to look at you, but you saw his eyes, glazed with wetness that threatened to turn into actual tears. How he could still smile was beyond you, you had your theories on that, but that wasn't important right now. What mattered was that he was hurting, and that fact broke your heart. You never knew motherly love, how could you really miss something you never really knew? But Alastor did, and it had been ripped from him in the must cruel way, the impact of it so hard it made him even question the very foundation it was built upon.
You moved your hand from his to cup his cheek and turn his face to yours. His expression was blank, and if it weren't for the tight grin and the eyes filled with an unspeakable anguish, it would have been an emotionless stare.
"Alastor, do you know the poem Mother O'Mine?"
"I'm afraid the memory of it fails me, darling."
"Then, I'll recite it for you."
"Why?"
You gave him a sad smile.
"Because I want to."
He eyed you with stunned curiosity as you reached into your pocket, glad for once for your mostly useless power. You've only told Husk about it, in one of your late nights where everyone else was asleep aside him and your insomnia got the better of you, drunk and as a bargaining chip for one last gin tonic.
The blank piece of paper was a bit crumpled, but it would do. You started to fold it while you spoke, your voice sounded soft and almost like a spell.
"If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
Your fingers moved with a solemn purpose as you folded the paper this way and that, a skill you perfected out of boredom over the years, the edges turning into an elegant shape, the poem coming from your mouth like a song. Alastor watched your hands move in a trance, not sure what you were doing, but too focused on the faint glow of purple around them to ask.
"If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
There in your hand, sat a little origami bird. It wasn't anything special, maybe a traditional crane would have been better, more elegant, but you were out of practice and for what you intended to do it would work either way. Carefully you reached out, silently demanding for one of Alastor's hands that were still digging into each other. He didn't protest, and slowly raised it to give his hand to you. The tips of his claws were covered in a thin, fresh layer of his own blood, and his skin was warm and slightly clammy. You put the little paper bird on his palm, a speck of his blood staining the bottom of the pristine white paper, and closed his fingers around it, holding it in both of yours.
"If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine."
His enclosed hand in your own was encased in purple light, with wide eyes he followed the soft tugs of your fingers and opened his hand. The little paper bird flapped it's wings on his flat palm, looking at him for a heartbeat before taking off and flew in a singular circle around his head before it headed into hells deep red sky, towards the bright heavenly sphere. You watched it until it vanished completely from view, hoping there was a possibility that maybe, with a bit of luck, it would find it's way to her.
"This, Alastor, is what a real mother is. She loves you, I'm sure of it. Always has and always will."
Tears fell silently on his lap, a strangled, coarse breath escaping him. Without warning, he pulled you from your chair into him, holding you pressed close to him. Just like in the night of his nightmare, his face was buried in your chest, arms wound tightly around you in a hurting embrace and shoulders trembling with suppressed grief. His grip was bordering on painful, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair, stroking gently while you let him quietly cry into your shoulder, not caring that the wetness of his tears was soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You felt his heart beating rapidly, his pulse erratic and his breathing fast.
"I miss her. Oh, how I miss her."
You held him tighter.
"I know, Al... I know."
You didn't know how long you two stayed like this, him in your arms and crying silently while you tried your best to comfort him, but you didn't care. As far as you were concerned, you would stay here forever if it only meant to lift this weight for a little while from his shoulders.
It took him some time, but eventually his breathing evened out, and he calmed down, his hold becoming less desperate and more... affectionate. You didn't realize it at first, but he had moved, his head resting under your chin and his forehead leaning against the hollow of your throat, his antlers slightly poking the thin skin. It felt strangely intimate, and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, but the moment he moved to get up and leave, you knew the spell was broken. He didn't let go of you entirely, but instead helped you to stand up and held your hand, his gaze firmly planted to the ground, avoiding your eyes.
"Darling, I..."
"Don't worry, Alastor. Although I'm glad I was able to be here when it happened... we shall never speak of this again."
You could feel his hesitation, a strange nervousness radiating from him. His shadow hovered next to him, a hand reaching out towards your face. You smiled at it, and, just for a brief moment, allowed yourself to lean into it's warm, buzzing touch as it caressed your cheek, before you turned and made your way back inside without a glance back to the sudden sound of a longing hum.
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shogunish · 5 months
Text
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟮]
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synopsis. satoru knows you're the closest thing to a mother megumi will ever have.
contents. reader battles with a kitchen stove (it was funnier in my head), a lil' bit of megs/reader bonding, soft and tired toru
words. 1.1k
note. pls lmk what you think bc i feel like my writing has gone 📉📉📉 but anyways, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, THE APPLE OF MY EYE, MY GLORIOUS BLUE EYED KING 💕
comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3
previous || next
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as promised, you're watching over megumi for the day. he's a quiet and somewhat shy kid who doesn't talk too much, but you're certain the little guy will warm up to you once he sees you around more often. you can't blame him; after all, you're basically a stranger in his home who's suddenly spending time with him until he passes out and satoru comes back home from work. you'd be a little reserved as well if you were in his shoes.
“so megumi, what would you like for dinner?” you kneel down to megumi's height and flash him a kind smile, head tilted to the side and hair framing your face.
megumi regards you for a moment as if he doesn't really want to say what he wants, but the smile on your face, the warmth you exude is enough for him to speak up. if he already gets to choose, he better make it count. “..macaroni.” he says, a pout on his lips.
“macaroni it is, buddy.” ruffling megumi's hair, you're quick to move through the kitchen, finding the noodles, preparing two pots and filling one of them with the right amount of water. everything goes as planned until you're faced with that fancy kitchen stove that does absolutely not work like the one you own.
damn satoru and the salary he uses to buy expensive shit like this.
you know it's a touchscreen model, but whenever you do put your finger down and the thing beeps..nothing happens. the stovetop doesn't even turn red to indicate that it's on and so you put your finger down a couple more times only for nothing to happen.
a lump sits in the back of your throat, cold sweat coats the tip of your finger. your heart skips a beat. if you can't even figure out how to operate your newfound nemesis of a stove, megumi would go to bed hungry and satoru would definitely be severely disappointed in you!
you can't let the attractive single dad think you're useless.
you cannot let megumi starve.
stuck in your own panic, you fail to notice how megumi has watched your..conflict by peeking over the countertop. even his dogs give you a somewhat confused look as if they could sense your emotional distress over a stove of all things. the boy walks over, nudges himself between you and your self-proclaimed nemesis and brings his finger down on the touchscreen of the stove like he's never done anything else in his life.
beep. beep, beep.
apparently, it's that easy to get the water to cook.
dumbfounded, you stare at megumi, then at the stove and back at megumi. you have to look hilarious with your lips parted into an o-shape and your eyebrows almost shooting up to your hairline if megumi's little laugh is anything to go by. “..that's amazing..how did you–”
megumi shrugs his shoulders, his usual deadpan expression back on his face. “i always watch dad when he cooks. it's not..that hard.”
you groan out loud, but a little chuckle laces into the sound. “..i'm too old for this stuff.” with pouted lips, you let megumi explain how to increase and decrease the heat, how to turn the stove off and on. it really is a lot easier than you initially believed.
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when satoru finally comes home, the skies are already darkening. hues of dark blue and a hint of purple are slathered across the vast canvas, birds roaming through the air and seemingly returning home to their nests or whatever place they consider home for the night. for a moment, the bustling life of the city ceases to exist – at least until satoru would have to leave for work again.
no emails, no phone calls, no meetings.
clad in suit and tie, buttons opened and tie loosened, a sigh of relief sneaks past his pale lips when the warmth of his apartment welcomes him home. a place which was usually silent, almost void of any life since megumi would be in bed by now. but now, the scent of food lingers in the air, soft snores echo from the living room down the hallway and the tv dimly illuminates the cozy space. driven by curiosity and a grumbling stomach, satoru finds a plate of macaroni on the dining table. in front of it, a note is placed.
“i figured you might be hungry after work. all you have to do is warm it up :]”
cerulean eyes soften behind pitch black shades as they skim over the carefully written note and the silly smiley you drew at the end. you didn't have to do this. satoru could take care of himself, he's been doing it for as long as he can remember, but..in a way, it's nice to be thought of, cared for, even in such small ways you probably didn't put much thought into.
he likes it. likely, a lot more than he should.
satoru trudges over to the sofa in the living room, wanting to thank you for the food, but when he sees you passed out on the cushion, megumi cuddled up to your chest and the two dogs snoring at your feet, the ghost of a smile dances on his lips. you look absolutely exhausted, a bit of drool leaking from the corner of your lips and red crayon smeared on your cheek, but it kind of looks cute on you, satoru thinks.
the sound of disney's bambi on the tv is nothing but white noise as satoru's gaze shifts towards his son, his little bundle of joy. the boy who never had a mother appears so content with his little arms clutching his favorite plushie and his little face buried in the warmth of your chest, snoring just as loudly as the dogs. the kid is beat, just like you.
satoru has to shake his head. ever since megumi was born, satoru wanted nothing more than for him to experience the love of a mother. someone who would offer him unconditional love, attention, would care for him and his happiness in ways that only a mother can, but you are not his mother. you never will be.
in the end, you're still the cute neighbor next door who offered to lend him a hand out of pity and not someone who could act as megumi's mother.
and yet, satoru knows he made the right choice by accepting your help.
this is the closest thing megumi will ever have to a mother.
a sigh, heavy enough to be conflicted but quiet enough to drown into the late hours, slips past satoru's lips. with quiet steps, he fetches a blanket from his bedroom and tosses the soft fabric over megumi's and your sleeping form.
"thank you." he breathes out, voice barely above a whisper.
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taglist. @torusmochi, @ayanominitrash, @erigaur
503 notes · View notes
lyneylover · 9 months
Text
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Yandere! Lyney royalty Au♡
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Synopsis: lyney is a street magician that you seen 3 weeks before your birthday. After your dad sees you mesmerized by his magic show he decides to buy lyney and his siblings to be your personal magicians. Little did your dad know that this would be the biggest mistake he ever made.
Word count: 569
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So picture this!
Originally lyney was just a street performer with his twin sister and sometimes his little brother as well.
But that all changed as soon as you came to one of his magic shows.
You were amazed by his tricks and enjoyed watching them. Genuinely having a good time watching his show.
It wasn't everyday that the princess of the l/n family actually seemed extremely impressed by magicians. Many have tried but failed since you were always able to tell what illusion they used.
But there was something about lyney and his sister lynette's magic that made you hypnotized.
By the time the show was officially over you seemed disappointed.
Noticing your disappointment your dad has the brilliant idea to buy the 3 magicians for your upcoming birthday as a surprise.
After that magic show everything seemed so boring but 3 weeks later you got the biggest surprise of your life.
The day of your 18th birthday arrived.
Like any other birthday you had there were lots of gifts.
But something was different this time. This time your dad presented you with something you'd never expect.
There stood the three magicians.
Standing right in front of you was lyney, lynette, and freminet.
In that moment you were frozen and bubbling with excitement. You quickly ran over to your dad hugging him and thanking.
But little did you know that lyney was smitten by you.
The second he saw you at his magic show he felt you stole his heart away. The twinkle in your eyes when he made something disappear and reappear or how he drew the exact same card that a person showed the crowd.
Usually lyney wouldn't let anyone buy him and his siblings so when your dad asked him he was going to say no but then realized that the same man he was going to decline was your father.
Lyney uses this as a way to get closer to you knowing that he's only a mere magician and you're a princess. So he automatically yes not wanting to leave his siblings he told the king that he would only go if he bought all three of them for $100 a piece.
When lyney saw you he felt giddy inside. He was mesmerized by your beautiful features your pretty eyes, your soft looking hair, your plump lips everything about you made him blush.
This didn't go unnoticed by Lynette and freminet though.
After a month of being your personal magician he finally tells his siblings about his feelings for you hoping that they would help him with the master plan he thought up.
When Lynette and freminet finally agree lyney is ecstatic.
A week later they put Lyney's plan in motion.
At dinner lynette slips something in everyone's drink that'll make them tired.
When everyone is finally asleep lyney sneaks into your room covering your mouth before waiting for freminet to appear.
When freminet gets there they all quietly bring you to the escape carriage they had prepared earlier.
They all quickly run back inside to trash your room and their rooms to make it look like a kidnapping. With the money they had gotten from the king they took you far across fontaine where he would never find you.
The next day the king was furious. He thought someone kidnapped his magicians and his precious only daughter.
The king looked for them for months but not a trace of them was ever found.
Lyney could finally be with the love of his life.
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I hope you guys enjoyed this! Sorry I haven't been posting I've had writers block but I'm finally back on track! And I'm currently completing my first hotaru haganezuka request but I thought I would post my little brainrot for you guys<3 Also should i post a part two with yan! personal detective Heizou looking for reader?
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d3adp00ls · 6 months
Note
I’m still waiting for that angst fic pookie 😍🫶
Clingy
Vanessa (fnaf movie) x reader
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Summary: Vanessa has been a lot more distant a lot but you didn’t think she would miss a important night like this. (I KNOW MY SUMMARY IS BEAUTIFUL)
Contents: Angst, Yelling, Tears, stressed Vanessa, Established relationship, hurt no comfort (yet), Vanessa gets slapped 😬, somebody needs driving lessons lol.
Word count: I'm pretty sure my dog knows.
Side note: 🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗
Pt.2 Pt.3
✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮
You were sitting on the couch in your shared home with Vanessa, watching a TV program that featured extravagant rings that cost more than your entire life. Recently, Vanessa had been coming home later than usual, and every time you tried to bring it up, she would dismiss your concerns or accuse you of being too clingy. You tried to brush off her words and the hurt they caused, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings. Eventually, you gave up and started going to bed before she came home. However, tonight was supposed to be different. You had pleaded with her to come home early and she had promised she would. Filled with hope, you had prepared a romantic candle-lit dinner and even bought her a gift. But as the minutes turned into hours, the food grew cold and the gift remained untouched on the table. You sat on the couch with a half-finished glass of wine, tears welling up in your eyes.
She was supposed to have arrived hours ago, and you had debated whether or not to just go to sleep. But as you were about to doze off, you heard the familiar sound of keys jingling and the front door opening. Vanessa, your late girlfriend, seemed oblivious to your presence as she quietly closed the door and went straight to the kitchen without acknowledging the food you had prepared for her.
With a clenched jaw, you stood up and cleared your throat, causing Vanessa to finally notice you. "Y/n? What are you doing up?" she asked with a confused and slightly worried expression.
You wanted to scoff at her question. How dare she ask that when she had promised to be here? "Oh, you know," you shrugged, taking a few steps towards her, "Just waiting for my girlfriend who was supposed to be here almost four hours ago." Your voice rose with pent-up anger towards the end, and you could see Vanessa flinch slightly at the sound of it.
"Y/n…I lost track of time, I'm sorry, really I am, I-" She started to apologize, but you cut her off, not in the mood for her excuses.
"Do you know what today is?" you asked, your voice heavy with disappointment. Vanessa looked even more puzzled, and you let out a sigh as you walked over to the table and picked up the small gift box you had prepared for her. You fiddled with it between your fingers, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.
"June 7th," you said, looking back at Vanessa, hoping she would finally understand. But she still looked confused, and you felt your heart sink. "The day we started dating, two years ago. Does it not ring a bell, Vanessa? Or were you too busy thinking about work or some other woman while you were out all night?" you couldn't hold back your anger any longer, and you let out a loud yell, tears now streaming down your face.
"Oh…" Vanessa mumbled, finally realizing her mistake. You nodded, wiping the tears from your cheeks, but they kept coming.
"Yeah…" you said, your disappointment evident in your voice.
"Baby, I know I've been really busy and lost track of time, but please try to understand-" You cut her off abruptly, rolling your eyes and turning away.
"Here we go again…" you mutter under your breath, feeling her glare burning into the back of your head as you make your way to the bedroom. You toss the gift box in the trash on your way, feeling frustrated and angry.
"What do you mean?" she asks, following you into the room. You let out a sigh and close the door behind you, but she stops it with her foot and pushes it open, grabbing your arm and spinning you to face her.
"Don't you dare walk away when I'm talking to you," she says coldly, but you scoff and pull your arm away.
"No, you don't get to act like you haven't been doing the same thing for the past week. You always do this, yet whenever I try and speak up about it, I'm the bad guy? That's complete bullshit!" you yell, jabbing your finger into her chest.
"And don't even try to pretend that you've only missed spending time with me once. You do it every single day," you continue, your voice cracking as tears start to well up in your eyes.
"Every time you tell me you'll be here, you never are. And when I try to talk to you about it, you just shut me down and tell me the same bullshit excuse or you just flat out tell me to get over it. But it's getting harder and harder to ignore, Nessa. And this morning, I had to beg you to stay. You said you would, and I believed you. But then you showed up later than ever and didn't even respond to my messages. You didn't even remember what today was. At this point, I’m convinced I’m just some inconvenience to you." Your voice breaks as you continue to pour out your feelings, wiping away the tears that are now falling freely down your face.
She looks at you in surprise, wanting to reach out and comfort you, but you take a step back and wipe away your own tears before taking a deep breath and looking away from her.
"I'm tired of feeling like I'm not important to you, Nessa. I just want to spend time with you and feel like I matter to you. Is that too much to ask?" you say, your voice barely above a whisper now.
Vanessa let out a heavy sigh before shaking her head in frustration.
"Y/n, I love you, but I have responsibilities and obligations that I can't always put on hold for you," she said with a huff.
You looked at her with hurt and confusion in your eyes, crossing your arms and turning away. "Am I not important to you anymore?" you mumbled, your voice trembling.
Vanessa's sigh pained your heart as you heard it. "Of course you are, but you just don't understand," she started, but you interrupted her with a pleading look.
"Then help me understand," you begged, taking her hands and pulling her closer to you. You pressed your forehead against hers, desperate for her to see how much this was affecting you. "Please… I want to understand," you whispered, gazing into her eyes.
She looked away, her jaw clenching as she pulled her hands away from yours. Your heart sank as she avoided your gaze, and you clenched your fists in frustration.
"Okay," you said quietly, finally accepting that she wasn't going to explain. You pushed past her and left the room, heading to the living room.
You didn't hear her follow you as you grabbed your coat and began putting on your shoes. As you searched for your keys, you heard Vanessa enter the room and stand in the middle of it, watching you. But you didn't acknowledge her as you grabbed your wallet from the table behind her.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her tone a little more stern.
You ignored her and continued searching for your keys, finally finding them between the couch cushions. You stood up and began walking towards the door, but she grabbed your arm and turned you around forcefully.
"I asked you a question," she glared at you.
You glared back and snatched your arm away, walking past her towards the door. But she followed you, grabbing your arm more harshly this time and turning you around.
"No, you don't get to leave-" she started, but before she could finish her sentence, you had already raised your hand and slapped her across the cheek.
You were shocked at your own actions and immediately regretted it as you saw the red handprint on her cheek. You both stood there in silence and shock before you finally mumbled a quick apology and left.
She eventually made her way back to the bedroom, her heart breaking as she heard your car speed away. If she had stayed just five seconds longer, she would have heard the sound of another car zooming by and a loud crash. If she hadn't fallen asleep just ten minutes later, she would have heard her phone ringing.
But she would see all of that in the morning.
✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮✰✮
BRO I HAVE BEEN PROCRASTINATING THIS FIC FOR A WEEK I LITERALLY HAD IT FINISHED JUST NOT EDITED and then i was supposed to post it earlier but im on the phone with some friends BUT FINALLY I POSTED IT also ill post part two sometime this week hopefully ANYWAYS TOODLES🤪✌🏾
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suguruplsr · 6 months
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Let me be your cure
featuring.. Alhaitham
✰ ✰ ✰ You gave up on love after being affected with the infamous hanahaki. With pity and sadness slowly swallowing your life whole, you end up in the hospital. Reluctant to getting surgery. And your boring, sadly hot, doctor doesn't seem to care. At least until he finds himself thinking about you.
,, x fem!reader , reader had an ex fiancé who was shitty , fluff w/ angst + comfort , mentions of blood and bruises (caused by the disease) , purely fictional! i know nothing about how hospitals actually operate or if things in my story are or are not allowed! so as you read, remember its purely fictional!
+ disease used is called hanahaki! and it is fictional, and used in many fictional stories, like mine. in shorter terms, a character affected by this disease coughs up flowers and, usually, blood, because of rejection or the loved character not loving them, (without it being said too!). it’s mostly solved with the loved character realizing their love for mc and saving them. or in other cases, the mc getting surgery and losing feelings for the loved character.
↬ 1K Event Masterlist
wc: 5K+
- divider @/benkeibear
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“Why are you staring?" You huff, making the gray-haired man in front of you nearly lose his composure. There’s no reason why someone like him should be stuck with some bratty woman. Okay, maybe he should have some sympathy. considering it’s a part of his job. “Ma’am, I'm just evaluating your physical health by sight for now.” You groan, turning your head away.
You’re literally going to die within this year and You can’t even at least get someone who is a bit more bubbly and nice to be around! not some cold guy with looks that could kill.
His eyes were unique. like targets or darts, probably? Your confuzzled mind couldn’t make sense of most things at the moment, but you felt strange underneath his gaze. intimidated. even without looking at him.
“Maybe if you wiped that scowl off your face, you wouldn't be in this situation. Probably drove the guy off." Alhaitham mutters. Yeah, yeah, it’s unprofessional, but he wasn’t disappointed with your reaction. His eyes lingered around your face, noticing how your tired, red eyes widened. But your lips curled, as if satisfied, mixing with the disbelief in your words. "Oh, you must be the funniest one around. What? Was I supposed to just smile? Say, 'Oh, I don’t mind, you’re fucking your secretary! Let’s plan our honeymoon, though!’ And hope to continue our romantic story?” You sneer, rolling your eyes dramatically.
“Well, it clearly didn’t work.” Alhaitham almost snickers. finding amusement in your extroverted attitude. He jots down a few more noticeable signs of your defect. Your lips look like they’ve been bit a lot, your nails are brittle, and your hair is frizzy and not taken care of. These are pretty normal things that the nurses should be able to help with. But he does eye the areas that aren’t just normal, like the bruises that reached to your neck or the ones on your arms that the gown does little to hide.
As you ramble on about your not-so-perfect love story, Alhaitham flips through the history of your visitors. It’s been three weeks since you were hospitalized, and there has been only one visitor since the day you came. which he’d assume was your mother or father. “Not a lot of friends or family?” He interrupts, his tone maybe a tiny bit softer than how firm it usually is. simply out of respect, of course. “Yeah, well, when you choose to die on your hill, not everyone wants to watch." You chuckle, smiling a bit.
He’d think that smile wouldn’t meet your eyes—cliche, right? But it did—a smile that wasn't too happy and an expression that wasn't too happy. But he merely hums in agreement, having no words of comfort and fixing his binder.
“Anyways, a female doctor will come and do a physical inspection before we prepare for your x-ray appointment in a few days. Although it seems that the roots of the flower may be growing and causing damage from the inside, His words make you waver, looking down at your lap. Was this really a good choice? It’s probably too late for surgery—not like you want one, but...
Alhaitham studies the visible emotions crossing your face before heading towards the door. “Make sure you ask for some food; you’re heavily malnourished."
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The next few weeks have been bland. You wake up around 10 AM, and usually the nurse you’ve learned to call, Ms.Candace, is bringing your food inside and having a small conversation with you. Eventually, she begins the morning routine, doing your hair with a nice side of warm herbal tea. Chapstick, nails, and a light pair of pajamas, and then talking about what you’d like to do for the rest of your day.
But just when you think you won't ever have to see that snobby doctor,
“Unfortunately for you, you won’t be able to go outside.” Alhaitham steps into the room, clipboard in hand, and shoots a look of no remorse towards your huff. “And why not? I haven’t seen the light of day for what feels like months."You scoff, making the blue-haired woman beside you sigh. "Well, miss, your body is already becoming slower, and there’s signs you are getting weaker in general. I'm sure he’s just wanting to prevent your state from getting any worse.” Yet her sweet words do little to calm the bubbling feeling within your chest.
You shake your head as she goes to walk out, giving the gray-haired man one more look before the door closes. He ignores it, “Anyway, after the results of your recent checkups, the estimate of how much time you have left to live was determined. but I doubt it’ll affect you considering you’re one stubborn woman." Alhaitham raises his eyebrows at you, anticipating your rebuttal before you can even get it out. but instead, you suddenly get into a fit of coughs. It’s like an eruption within your chest. the tiny tree within, sending an array of attacks.
You hate it—the prickly feeling that wells up, like knives cutting your insides as flowers sputter and fall into the palm of your hand. Your eyes water from the odd sensation you’ve lived with, and you question yourself with the same old question you uttered the day you made your decision.
Was it worth it?
Was it worth sticking with a man who never had to even speak of his loss of love for you? The yellow carnations were enough. Symbolizing the rejection you’ve faced from him, something you never thought you’d ever have to endure after your relationship was taken to the next level,
Alhaitham had grabbed the new form of medication you were going to start using, a syringe filled with yellow liquid. He grabs your arm, his eyes quickly traversing around your body, especially your throat, for signs that may be more alarming than they should be. He looks into your eyes, seeing the panic and fear that have swelled within them. “I know it hurts, but breathe...” He whispers, keeping your arm firmly still as the syringe prickles into your skin. You look away in fright. You hate needles, but you hate this even more.
The spiky feeling in your throat slowly subsides as you spit out some blood. "I'm fine now...” Your croaky voice makes him jeer, swiftly grabbing a band-aid for the little spot of blood on your arm. "You aren’t. You’re, quite literally, dying. Although it seems like you may be dying way faster than I thought.” He sighs, moving around the room and grabbing a few of your medications. “We'll have to give you stronger medication to reduce the pain. I'll have Ms. Candace and a few other people come help you," he says, leaving almost as quickly as he came.
The nurses come in within a short time, the room bustling with movement and questions being directed towards you. The blood staining the pretty gold ring on your finger makes you finally wake up.
You’re actually dying.
And it’s for a man who swears he could never love you again.
Oh, how tricky fate can be with those stupid I love you's.
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“How’re you feeling?” Alhaitham mumurs. You’ve been ignoring the man who sat in front of you, all silent, ever since the fiasco yesterday. You could only stare down at the ring around your finger, twisting it and sometimes daring to fully shed it off your finger.
You don’t have the guts to do that, even if he did. without any hesitation either.
“With how much you talk, I'm surprised you aren’t yelling at me for just existing.” He muses, his eyes flickering from his clipboard up to where you sit on the hospital bed. You don’t have the energy to banter with him, "I'm not that childish.” “You’d be surprised." His mutter makes you jolt, your face twisting into a pout.
“It sounds like you just have a problem with me!” you gibe. but Alhaitham’s eyebrow raises. as if you hit the target with that one. "Possibly," he mumbles, focusing back on the papers in front of him. Your fusses fall dead on his ears.
His problem with you wasn’t bad—more like pity. Something he rarely feels for patients, only understanding their situations, giving affirmations, and moving on. but he finds your situation simply ridiculous. Not only are you dying for a man who left you for another, but he doesn’t even have the respect to pay for your medical fees. Not to mention, literally, your mother was the one who paid, only stating to him that she has no plans on visiting and that he was allowed to do whatever once you died.
What a heartless woman!
“Since you’re so absorbed in that paper—“ “You must not have an ‘off’ button.” His eye twitches at the tone of your annoyance, all sickly and sweet. He could practically hear the joke Cyno would make. "Actually, I do. and it’s counting down. Speaking of, you never told me how long I have left.” Okay, maybe you were a bit funny. and it’s something that should definitely not make his lips almost form into a smile. However, he clears his throat, not bothering to flip through the mountain of pages. considering he already memorized the information. “Two months at least. With the rate at which your body is deteriorating, the best you’ll be able to last is maybe an extra week or two.
Alhaitham’s stomach strangely twists at the sight of your mood dampening once again. your head looking back down to your arms, and your lips pressed tightly together. But it wasn’t like he cared; it’s just interesting to see how fast the light can disappear from one’s eyes. something he realized long ago that he'd see a lot of.
It’s probably just from how tense the room got all of a sudden. nothing he can’t handle.
Before you know it, droplets of tears fall onto the blanket bunched around your lap, like a rainfall that just doesn't stop. no matter how fast you bring your hands up to wipe them away. "Sorry, I'm just going—" “Go ahead. I see it every day." Alhaitham doesn’t let you argue. He pulls out a small handkerchief from his chest pocket, inscribed with the letter A in cursive. but he doesn’t mind your slight humiliation, or whatever it is making you uncomfortable in front of him, looking away and grabbing a piece of paper.
Once your blurry eyes are clear, you see that he has left you in silence, leaving behind a sheet of paper. clutching the white cloth, you read the words, a smile blooming on your face. Make a bucket list.
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“Abiding by our policies, you can’t get your nails painted.” Alhaitham shuts down the 20th idea you had. He sat in the chair in front of you, avoiding the glare you threw at him and skimming through the third row. Maybe she should’ve predicted that a dying person would want to do exactly, one hundred and one, things before their death.
But it’s not like he’s done this before.
"Okay, what, can I do?!” You huff, already fed up with the word ‘no’. "Well, since you can’t go out, we can watch that movie, ’scream’, here." Alhaitham sighs, watching how your whole mood lit up, your eyes almost sparkling. This is going to be a long two months.
“mhm! what else.” You giggle, clapping your hands together. It’s almost comical to him to see how expressive you are. Looking back down at the paper he held, he began picking out some of the activities you would be able to do.
And in the end, you ended up winning him over in a few things, like being able to use some make-up for fun, more movies, specific snacks that you’ll have to eat at very specific times, board games that you convinced him to play with you, and basically anything and everything that you can do with the tiny little home of your room.
You even managed to persuade the silver-haired man to let you get some press-on nails. nails, which Candace, thankfully, went out to buy. but surprisingly, the doctor decided to put them on you himself. since Ms.Candace was attending to another patient and he had some free time. Well, at least that was his excuse. Not like you know, he was simply curious to see your excitement over something so small.
“That one fits the ring finger more.” You correct Alhaitham again, making him squint his eyes, mumbling under his breath, and moving his fingers to hold your hand firmer. And you just so happen to be right. He sets it aside carefully, putting it in the line of pretty pink and black gemmed nails. He picks up the last smaller nail, the one that finally fits your index finger perfectly.
“Isn’t it pretty?” You smile, adoring the nails, as he concentrates on applying the fake nails. He gives a low tsk, a faux look of confusion on his face. "Well, I dunno, they’re kinda...” he trails off, a neatly structured, stoic expression on his face that makes you roll your eyes. “They’re cute!” “If you say so.” Your adorable little glare makes him want to egg you on, but he stays silent for now.
Wait— Adorable? Maybe he has a headache from your nagging or something; there is nothing to worry about now.
You study his expression unknowingly; your eyes just so happened to need something to latch onto. And he’s clearly got a nice view. better than the nails. The small scrunch of his eyebrows is obviously dedicated to something so simple that it almost concerns you. Even the way he holds your hands up is tender, contrasting with his slightly calloused hands. He has a beautiful face too, and you think you can see some muscles hidden under his coat.
Sculpted so gorgeously. Funny, for such a snarky man.
“How old are you?” You blurt out, looking up at him as he glances at you in confusion. “Why?” He asks softly, almost done with your second hand as you contemplate. “Just curious.” “Curiosity killed the” “but satisfaction brought it back.” You finish before he can fully say the little saying. A small smirk of victory forms on your lips when he gives you a look that just radiates sass.
“Twenty-seven.” He gruffed. Perfect. “How did you even become a doctor so young?" You question him, a look of surprise crossing your face as he shrugs. “A few golden opportunities.” “Wait, are you not going to ask me how old I am?” You’re so clueless, Alhaitham thinks. “I’m your doctor. You must really not have a brain.” And you scoff at his words, but yet another question pops into your head. “Anyways! Favorite color?” “Are you serious, right now?" “If you don’t answer, I will personally file a complaint." "Green."
You two eventually ended up having a long conversation, with you asking him questions and him answering reluctantly. But what made it so long was him turning it on you and asking a few questions that you gladly responded to. All the while, he held one of your hands, not ever thinking to let go and just studying the ring you still wear. What a bubbly woman you are.
Alhaitham nearly let a curse out to the man who wronged you when you mentioned him once. He doesn’t care much, but how can someone be so stupid?
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Alhaitham looks at the time on his watch. Two-thirty. Zipping up his lunch box, he heads towards the elevator, making a small stop in the room full of medicines. He ignores the calls in his name from other doctors or nurses who simply want to know more about the quiet man. He hates spending his breaks around people. Sadly, this just so happens to be one of the times when he’d love to have his headphones.
But duty calls.
He taps the button to go to the ninth floor, where your room is. Today is your movie day. That just so happened to land on Friday, the thirteenth too. He swipes through his notes, finding the password to his Hulu subscription. He only bought that for the movie series you like to watch on the smart TV installed in your room. *’Scream’ was it? Today you two were watching the fifth one, and you somehow logged him out for the third time within a week. Ms. Candace said you were snooping through the account settings or something like that.
What a hassle you are!
He reaches the high floor after a few seconds, making his way to your room and memorizing the password that he surprisingly always forgets. But, when he opens the door, he’s greeted with the sight of you fast asleep. Something makes him dread the energy you’ll have later in the evening, but he’s mindful of your rest. Placing his bags on the table silently and taking off his coat, he put it on the hook of the door.
The silence within your room is nice, for once. Usually, only the tension of your attitude or sadness would lie in the silence of this room. But only your light snores and the small drag of a chair were heard. Alhaitham moves to sit in a corner, thinking about leaving and having an extended break or waiting for you until you wake. But he picks the latter, crossing his arms and legs, leaning back, and letting his eyes drift onto your figure.
His mind was maybe a bit more active than before. He doesn’t know why, but he finds himself thinking of you more often: your health, your many expressions, your cheeky smiles, the dumb stuff that comes out of your mouth, and your eyes. To him, eyes are the purest form of honesty. like how yours can look like saucers when you’re shocked or diamonds when you're happy. or a pit of sadness.
Sadness. Alhaitham would think your only source of sadness in life was that fiancé of yours. Well, ex by now. A man who caused you so much pain that you’ve decided to live and die with. How could you ever love again if you’re so committed like this? But Alhaitham won’t ask you such things, out of respect, of course. It’s not like he’ll be pondering over them in a few weeks.
He shakes off the weird thoughts, dozing off.
You woke up to the sight. ‘What a sight for sore eyes.’ You quote in your head. You almost want to wipe away your eyes with how fine that man looks. Despite how creepy it was to notice the doctor in the corner of your room, His head was leaned against the wall, and his body stilled like stone as he slept. And his arms—Oh his arms. His arms were practically bulging out the scrubs he wore, so muscular. You almost want to touch them. Well, at least you know he keeps up with his gym regimen. Good thing he’s sleeping; now you can admire him more.
“You must have a staring problem.”
Maybe not.
His voice was a bit raspy, laced with tiredness as his eyes fluttered open, straight to you. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You divert him. Eyes away from him with an obvious flustered expression on your face. Alhaitham’s lips tug into a tiny, knowing smile, humored. But he decides to play along and not tease you any longer. “I’m not going to interfere with a patient's sleep.” He sighs, standing tall and going to put back on his coat. He checks the time. 4 PM.
“Before you watch your movie full of blood, you need your dosage.” Alhaitham ignores your whine in response, picking up the wrapped syringe in his white bag. “Ugh, why do I have to do three a day anyway? I’m feeling well.” You huff, holding out your arm as he walks to you, closing your eyes in anticipation. “That’s exactly why.” He mutters, holding your arm gently. “Breathe.” He says it softly, feeling your fast heartbeat on your wrist. “I clearly am." "Well, calm down.”
You purse your lips, complying and taking some deep breaths. Once his thumb presses the familiar spot between your forearm and arm, you feel the prick in your skin. Then comes the tingly feeling of fluid entering your body. You shiver, unexpectedly clutching his hand as your chest tightens. Alhaitham watches in interest, allowing you to hold onto him until the pain passes. "Can we watch that movie now?" You mumble, making him give your hand a final squeeze before letting go.
He grabs the remote on the table, turns on the TV, and flicks through the streaming services. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I think you like looking at something else,” he offhandedly mentions, giving you a small jab at your earlier actions and glancing down at the little funny face you gave him. “Oh c’mon!”
“What? It was just an assumption."
“But! Ugh!”
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“Again!” You groan before Alhaitham can even slot his red chip into the blue holder. You’ve lost maybe five or six games of Connect Four now, sitting at this stupid table with this stupid game for maybe an hour and a half. "No, I can do it." Alhaitham says this while sitting back into his chair with that signature cross of his legs. “And why is that?” “It’s getting late.” And you pout, laying your head on the table as he watches you.
Those little target-like eyes of his drill into you. Moreso, the purple veins that have formed on your neck over the past month The area is dark, and the veins are even darker. There were parts of your body that suffered from the disease; your health was deteriorating so badly that it made him sick. You’ve become slower, unable to even stay awake for longer than eight hours. He and Ms. Candace have been hovering over you with every last second of your life, with the knowledge that you could drop dead at any moment.
“Not a good look, huh?" You murmur, feeling awful under his watchful gaze. And Alhaitham’s cocks his head, not entertained by your words. “Did I say that?”
"It's on your face."
“You have poor judgment, then."
And your face scrunches up, looking at him with an annoyed look. “What else would you think, then?” Alhaitham bites his tongue. something he doesn’t do a lot. Well, not at all. It’s not like him to interfere with a patient's choice, but...
“I’d think that you should get that operation.” He sighs, not bothering to take his eyes off you as you turn your head away. “Doctor. You know I—“ “Are you seriously letting a man who isn’t here dictate how your life ends?” He scoffs, letting a tone of disbelief creep into his voice before realizing his own words. But Alhaitham doesn’t correct himself.
He was already correct.
"Okay, well, why do you care? And yes, I know you’re my doctor and everything, but, you don’t act like this." You give him a pointed look, sliding the lever of the blue grid and letting the coins fall into the bin. “I’m just saying. Anyone in their right mind would at least be honest with you about this.” Alhaitham shrugs, but the truth is that he truly could not stand to see you like this. So in his right mind, he did the least he could do.
It's not like you know his true feelings.
You ponder over his words, playing with the ring on your left hand. He was right. But perhaps you expected too much from that damned man, the man you fell in love with classically, high school sweethearts who swore to marry, and oh, how so close you were to that dream.
Not every story has a happy ending.
But who were you to let some shitty man write your story’s ending while he goes to some fucking island with his fucking bimbo?
An idiot is what you’d be.
“Sure.” You whisper, bringing your elbow up and laying your head on your hand. Alhaitham gives you a look of satisfaction, a knowing smile forming on his face as he stands up. “I knew you weren’t that dumb.” “You know nothing!” You scoff, your chest bubbling with excitement for your future as you get ready to put away the board game. But he pulls the grid towards him and says, "You won’t need this here. I’ll just take it home.” He says it casually, making you pause.
“But it was a gift to me? Why—" “Do you seriously not know how to take a hint?” What’s with this man always interrupting you? You scowl. Hint? What hint—"Oh, wait—are you like, inviting, me over or something?” And Alhaitham only makes a sound of agreement, dropping the chips in the bin into the box. “yea, and I won’t be your surgeon, obviously. But once the day of your appointment comes, you won’t see me around. Just talk to Ms. Candace after they release you."
Alhaitham cleans up as you tuck yourself into bed, playing the background show of your choice before leaving with a small click of the door.
You can’t believe it. You aren’t dying in three weeks. and you’re going on a date. Well, in a month, but still!
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“Um, should I just call him? I don’t want you to trouble you any longer. You were dressed in a fine black dress that Candace willingly gave to you. Your body healed after the operation within a few weeks of rest and food. You hadn’t seen the doctor—well, Alhaitham—since the day before your appointment.
So basically, a long time.
But after getting released from the hospital, Candace took you in and helped you familiarize yourself with life. And she just so happened to tell a specific man that you made a full recovery. which his immediate reply was, for you to come over to his house for dinner.
It was about time for him to properly pursue you.
“Oh? You must be eager to see him. He’s just a little car ride away, but if you insist, Candace teases, her eyes glimmering in amusement as she hands you your phone. You look at yourself in the mirror again; it feels so refreshing to actually see yourself healthy, not scrawny and filled with scotches of purple on your skin.
You spent over an hour in the mirror, buttering yourself up with some light makeup of your choice and admiring yourself.
You take the phone from her hand, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you get to his contact. "There is no need to be nervous. I’m sure he’d swoon just from the sound of your voice.” She smiles, making you laugh, and clicks the call button. "Oh, please, he’s not that—
"You finally called."
You shiver at the sound of his voice. Who the hell answers the phone so quickly? “Sorry, but, uh, I was wondering if you could come pick me up." You aren’t sure how the tone of your voice got meek so quickly, but for some reason, it makes him chuckle. “*yea? I’m already on my way.” Maybe you were too sick to realize how hot his voice actually is, even just on the phone.
Candace notices how stiff you are, clearly flustered and shy. She leans to the phone and says, “What a gentleman you are! I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you! She might lose her head if you don’t hurry.” She sings, clicking the red button as you fall into her hug.
You two talk about some things you might be interested in doing in the future, like continuing your career and education in technology or finding a job soon so you can get out of her hair. It really feels nice, like you’re actually becoming something rather than being a little housewife with a fiancé who never took the time to love you.
You drift away from the conversation on cereal before milk when you hear a honk outside. Candace jumps up, holding your hand and guiding you to the door. “I feel like a mother,” she smiles, making you give her a grin. “You’re younger than me!” “But I’m wiser. Have a nice night, hun.” She opens the door for you, giving you the sight of a Black Cadillac parked beside her driveway.
You walked down the driveway nervously, clutching the sides of your dress with your purse in your other hand. Just as you reach the car, Alhaitham gets out, walking around to open your door but stopping you with a hand just barely ghosting your waist.
You two stare into each other's eyes, a light breeze blowing through the evening air as he looks you up and down. while you do the same. It felt like a blessing to be able to see his figure without those stupid scrubs. He wore a gray button-up with black slacks, simple but fitting. with some small amounts of jewelry that complement him well. Before you can even try your hand at being confident, he speaks before you: “You look decent." "I spent over two hours on this outfit! And you say, "Decent?"You huff playfully, the weight of your heart already dissipating when he gives an airy laugh, opening the door.
“Then I apologize..gorgeous." “That is so corny.” You jest, despite the increase in blood flowing to your cheeks. “I tried. But I was honest.” He sighs, almost disappointedly, but is careful of your legs before closing the door. Your mind races as you get comfortable in the car, noticing the light scent of cologne. How fancy.
At least it was better than those strong perfumes. like a dark, regal scent, but brisk.
“I was hoping to make you dinner, and then we can play another game I bought for you.” Alhaitham gets in, buckling up before giving Candace, who stood at her door, a small wave. “Yea?” “Yea.” You smile bashfully, your cheek bones betraying you as you hold your hand out. “I’d like that.” And Alhaitham returns your smile, examining your hand.
No ring. But he already has one in mind.
It’ll be silver.
He puts his hand in yours, interlocking it and squeezing firmly. “And I promise you’ll love it.”
Hopefully, you’ll love him too.
378 notes · View notes
brokebonewritings · 3 months
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Be Mine, Forever?
Matt Murdock x Reader
Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Valentine's Day Special
Summary: Your day is interrupted by an impromptu girl's day. and your night is filled with passion as Matt surprises you for Valentine's Day. You had a surprise for him as well. Song: Here (In Your Arms) - First Dance by Hellogoodbye
Word Count: 4.4K
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The day started normally enough. Of course, Valentine’s day fell on a week day this year so you were stuck at work. You sent Matt a few ‘Good Morning’ and ‘Happy Valentine's Day’ texts, but it's been radio silence from the other end. This was expected though, since he had already informed you that he was going to be in court all day. 
You sit back at your desk, you've been preparing all month for a new exhibit at The Met. The plans that spread across your desk puzzle you as you try to figure out where to place each case and art piece.
As you meticulously arrange the plans for the new exhibit, your mind can't help but wander back to Matt. The silence from him is starting to feel unusual, as he's always been the one to send you sweet messages and surprises on special occasions. But you brush it off, he's never disappointed you.
Just as you're about to finalize the placement of the last art piece, Marci rushes into your office, a mix of urgency and excitement in her eyes. "Hey!"
"How did you get in here?" You respond with a raised eyebrow. "Did my assistant let you in?"
Just as you finish your question Justin, your assistant, rushes in behind her. "I am so sorry. I tried stopping her, but she is so fast in those heels."
"Lawyer walk." Both you and Marci say in unison. 
She turns back to you with a smile plastered on her face. "I need you to come with me for the rest of the day."
"Marci, I can't just leave work in the middle of the day." You cross your arms over your chest.
"Oh yes you can, I already spoke to your boss! So come on." She grabs your coat that's by the door, along with your umbrella. "We got things to do, come on."
You sigh and thank Justin for trying, and invite him to also take the rest of the day off. Which he does happily.
"So what are we even going to do?" You ask. Grabbing your bag, and putting away your belongings.
"Well we're gonna go get ready for our Valentine's Date Nights, duh." She helps you get your coat on, and you both were off. "I just know that Foggy, and Matt are planning something special for us."
You smile at the thought. "Have you heard from Foggy today? I know they had a busy day."
"Not a word. You didn't hear it from me, but apparently their client is very demanding of their time."
"Oh shit, really?" 
You loved the gossip you got from your lawyer friends. Not that it was filled with a ton of details. Client/Lawyer confidentiality and all that.
"Mhm, Needs lots of attention to detail." She says before dragging you into a nail salon. You realize how nice this salon is after looking around. "Hey, wait, I don't think I'm gonna be able to afford this right now. Trying to save up for a new apartment with Matt, remember?"
She laughs before checking the both of you in for the appointment she had already made. "Who said you were paying? It's all on me today, hun."
"Oh my god, no way! I seriously cannot accept this."
"Too late! It's already done, you don't wanna ruin this day for me do you?" She pouts after turning back to you.
You sigh and shake your head. "Thank you, this is incredibly kind of you."
"Don't even mention it. I wanna make sure we both are dolled up!"
You're both called back after about 5 minutes. The salon was nicer than you thought. When you had both settled at the manicure station, they had offered you both a glass of champagne. Who were you not to accept a free glass?
It was truly relaxing, you were glad that Marci got you out of work early. You both spent the next two hours getting your nails prepped for a night out. Usually you don't get long nails since you work with your hands most of the time, but she insisted you get something more elegant. You couldn't refuse since she was the one paying.
Just as the nail technician finished with your right hand, your phone buzzed on the table beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Matt's name flashing on the screen. You quickly picked it up and answered, not wanting it to go to voicemail.
"Hey! Happy Valentine's Day!" You chirp happily. "How is court?"
There was a brief pause before Matt's voice came through, heavy with exhaustion. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart." It's been chaos. I couldn't even find a moment to catch my breath."
You let out a sigh of relief, understanding his predicament. "Then I guess tonight will be a good night to cash in one of those massages I owe you, huh?"
Hearing the low rumble of his chuckle sent chills through your body. "Yeah, guess it will be." He pauses. "I was wondering if you would meet me on the roof tonight, like we used to?"
"Yeah, of course I will." You blush, it has been a while since you both sat on the roof together. "What time do you want me there?"
"8:30. There is room for you to be fashionably late, of course."
You let out a giggle. "Yeah okay, 8:30 then. I'll see you then."
"I love you." He says with a loving sigh.
"I love you too." You respond before hanging up.
"Soooooo," Marci pipes up. "Romantic Dinner?"
The blush was still tinting your face from the conversation. "Yeah, on his rooftop."
"That sounds lovely, very romantic."
As you finish up at the nail salon, Marci insists on taking you to a cafe nearby. She called it a Galentine's Brunch, just the girls. When you both arrived, you were surprised to see that Karen was able to join you. 
"I thought you were in court with Matt, and Fog?"
"Oh no, I told them I wouldn't be in today. Playing hookie." She laughed lightly. "Besides, Im not going to deny Marci a girls brunch. We need it."
As you settled into the cozy booth at the cafe, sipping on your latte, the three of you began catching up on each other's lives. Karen shared stories about her latest investigative assignment, Marci talked about her recent courtroom victories, and you filled them in on the details of the upcoming exhibit at The Met.
Marci nudges you playfully. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear?" she asks with a mischievous smile.
You shake your head, realizing that you've been so caught up in work and the surprise day off that you haven't even considered your outfit. 
"I just figured I would wear what I was wearing right now."
"You're joking." Marci says. "You have to wear something else. Not saying that what you're wearing right now isn't cute, but this is Valentine's Day."
"Yeah you gotta wear something he can undress you with" Karen chimes in with a mischievous smile. "Cause you know he'll love it if you wore something hot."
"Okay, okay. I have been saving a silk dress for a special occasion."
"Silk? I gotta see this." Marci says forcefully.
You pull out your phone and find the dressing room photo you took of the dress in question. It was a lavender colored dress with a cowl neckline. They both stare at the photo then back to you.
"Where have you been hiding that!" Karen says in disbelief.
"In the back of my closet." You respond with a laugh. "I just didn't know how to style it."
"I will simply just have to come over and help you with that." Marci states. 
"And." You pause. "There's matching lingerie."
They both squeal before you change the subject back to Marci and Foggy's plans for the evening.
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You stare in the mirror at the dress you had shown Marci, and Karen earlier in the day.They had left about an hour ago to get ready for their own plans. Not without them giving your outfit their seal of approval though. 
Sitting on your bed, you pull on the heels Marci had carefully chosen. This was going to be a good night, but you didn't know why the butterflies in your stomach felt so prominent. You haven't been this nervous since you started dating Matt.
Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that there's nothing to worry about. It's just a rooftop date with the love of your life. You run a hand down the front of your dress, feeling its smooth texture against your skin.
As you do your makeup, you can't help but replay all the beautiful moments you've shared with Matt. From late-night conversations under the stars to stolen kisses on the rooftop, every memory fills you with warmth and love. Tonight is just another chapter in your story together, a celebration of your deep connection.
With your hair styled in loose waves, you stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire the final look. The dress drapes perfectly over your figure, accentuating your best features. You feel confident, more confident than you've felt in years.
You look at the clock on your nightstand, and see that it just hit 8:00. Perfect. You grab your bag and set out walking towards his apartment building.
The city is alive with the energy of Valentine's Day. Lovers walk hand in hand, their laughter and joy filling the air. As you make your way through the bustling streets, you can't help but smile. The anticipation in your heart grows with every step.
Finally, you arrive at Matt's apartment building. Taking a deep breath, you enter and climb the stairs towards the rooftop. The familiar sound of the door creaking open greets you as you step onto the familiar space that holds so many precious memories.
The sun has already set, casting a magical glow over the city skyline. The soft twinkle of lights fills the air, creating an atmosphere that feels straight out of a fairy tale. And there he is, standing near the edge of the rooftop, tall and handsome as ever.
Matt turns as he hears your footsteps approaching. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. That's when you realize that you're not alone. You turn to see that your friends are there. Not only your friends but also your Aunt May and Peter.
"What is happening right now?" You say with a nervous laugh.
"Sweetheart," You hear him say and you turn back and give him your full attention. "I have been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't know how to go about it."
"Matt, are you?" You begin before he cuts you off with a kiss.
"Ever since I met you I have been so entranced by you.You've brought so much light and love into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," Matt says, his voice filled with sincerity. He takes a step back, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small velvet box. Opening it to reveal a dainty opal ring, he drops to one knee.
You stand there for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening or if you were have a really specific dream.
"Will you marry me?" Matt asks, his voice filled with vulnerability and love.
The world around you seems to fade away as you lock eyes with him, feeling a mixture of excitement and overwhelming joy. The weight of his question hangs in the air, and time seems to stand still.
Tears well up in your eyes as you try to find your voice. This moment feels like a dream, but the warmth in your heart tells you it's all too real. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question like a beautiful promise.
"Yes," you whisper, barely able to contain your joy. "Yes, Matt, I will marry you."
The rooftop erupts in cheers and he stands and slips the ring onto your finger. You glance around, realizing that they had all conspired together to create this magical moment. Aunt May wipes away a tear of happiness while Peter grins ear to ear. Marci and Karen are practically jumping up and down with excitement, their eyes shining with joy. Foggy is trying to conceal his tears by wiping his eyes with his sleeves.
Embracing Matt tightly, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. This rooftop, once a place of solace and refuge for the two of you, now holds even more significance. It symbolizes the foundation of your future together, a place where love can blossom and dreams can be realized.
Amidst the cheers and laughter, you take a moment to soak in the beauty of this milestone in your relationship. The twinkling lights of the city below seem to dance in celebration, mirroring the joy in your hearts.
"This is so epic, and I got it all on video." Peter says amidst the celebration.
As the cheers die down, Aunt May steps forward, her eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, darling" she says, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't be happier for you both. You deserve all the love in the world. Your father would have loved Matt."
"Thanks Aunt May." You say with a tearful smile.
As the rooftop continues to buzz with excitement and congratulations, you and Matt share a tender moment together. He pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. You feel safe and cherished as you rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ears.
"I love you so much," Matt murmurs softly, his voice filled with emotion. "And I promise to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."
You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration. "I love you too, Matt," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
After the shared dinner with all of your friends and family, you all decide it's time to head home to spend the rest of Valentine's Day in the comfort of your homes.
Saying goodbye to everyone, you and Matt clean the roof top and share a few intimate moments with kisses and lingering touches.
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On your way back down the stairs, you can feel Matt's presence hovering over you. So you stop for a moment and turn to see what he is doing. As you turn, you feel his hand slide up your jaw as he pushes you against the wall. You gasp as he presses himself against you, one hand around your neck and the other sitting on your waist.
"Ive been waiting all day to be alone with you." He growls into your ear before kissing you roughly.
Your heart races as his lips claim yours, a hunger and desire that electrifies your senses. The intensity of his touch against the coolness of the wall sends shivers down your spine.
His hands explore every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench. The urgency and longing in his kisses leave you breathless.
With each touch, each caress, the connection between you deepens. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driven by a love that transcends words.
As he pulls away, you feel dizzy with the intensity of his attack. "We need to get back to your apartment." You state.
"Oh do we?" He questions. "I have no problem ravishing you right here in this stairwell."
You huff, as you stare at his smirking face. "I would actually love for you to ruin this dress, but in the comfort of our bed."
"Our bed?" 
"Yes, our bed." You smirk as you push his hands away and begin to walk back to his apartment.
He follows closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your body. The desire he has for you is palpable, and it fuels you as well. As you pass each door, you can't help but imagine what would happen behind your own.
Approaching his door, you grab the keys from his hand and begin to unlock the door.
"I promise, I'll ruin that dress, right here," he whispers in your ear, causing you to shiver.
You hear the click of it unlocking as you turn to him, "Well, Mr. Devil. Ruin the dress then." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
As the door creaks open, the sound echoes throughout the hallway, the anticipation in the air is palpable. Together, you step inside and kick the door shut behind you. He pins you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body like a man possessed.
He seems desperate to claim you, to conquer every inch of you. You're aching for him too, the want and need between you undeniable. You need his touch, his kiss, his warmth. You're completely vulnerable to him, ready to give yourself to him in every way.
His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his hands holding your neck as your fingers dig into his shirt. You break the kiss, both of you panting heavily, your hearts pounding in sync. 
"I love you so much," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion.
"And I love you more," Matt replies, his voice filled with warmth and devotion.
With that his hands grip the top of your dress and he pulls, ripping the dress down the front. You moan at the intensity of the moment. He really did ruin the dress.
You're left in the lingerie you had on underneath as the dress drops to the floor. He takes a moment before feeling up your sides and realizes what you have on.
"Oh you dirty girl." He groans. "You wanted this to happen tonight, didn't you?"
You smile, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Maybe I did"
"Well, I'm not complaining." He says slowly. "You have no idea how hard this is making me."
"I think I have some idea." You say as you lift your knee, feeling his erection already straining under the fabric of his pants.
His hand maneuvers down to pull your lingerie to the side, revealing your most intimate parts. "I'm going to make you scream, baby."
With that, he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom. The moment you step into the room, he drops you onto the bed and crawls on top of you.
"I want you so bad," he growls into your mouth. You feel his erection pressing into your thigh, and you're more than ready for him.
He breaks the kiss and starts to unbutton his shirt, you lay back watching as he undresses himself. What a sight it was, he could have been a Greek god.
Once he's stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you again, his hand traveling down your body, tracing patterns on your skin as he does. His fingers run along the edge of your underwear and you shudder at the sensation.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked body to him. He leans down and begins to kiss your inner thigh, nuzzling into the most inner part.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his thumbs brushing against your waist.
Before you can respond, his tongue swipes up against your core. You gasp at the sudden electricity of the situation. He repeats the motion, his tongue swirling around your clit in slow, steady circles. Your hips start to rise in response, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. You arch your back, moaning softly.
Matt responds with a gentle growl, his fingers still moving against your waist, caressing your skin. He reaches down and slowly pushes two fingers inside you, drawing out a loud moan.
His other hand moves to your breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. You mewl, your body trembling with need. His tongue continues to dance around your most sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.
"Oh, Matt," you moan, "I need you inside me."
He stops his ministrations, lifting his head towards you. "Not yet," he says, standing up and helping you off the bed. "I want to make you beg for it."
He leads you over to a table by the window, bending you over it. The cool glass feels amazing against your naked skin, as you're exposed to the room with your legs spread apart.
Matt positions himself behind you after dropping his boxers. You can feel his erection pressing against your ass, precum leaking out. You know he's ready for it.
"You're going to make me come so hard," you whisper.
He rubs his tip against your entrance, teasing you, making you crave him even more. Sliding his cock between your folds. You push back against him for any sort of friction.
A loud crack echoes through the apartment. His hand lingers, massaging the area he just spanked. "You need to be a good girl for me. Or else the next one will be a lot harder. Do you understand?"
You nod, pleasure spread across your face as you lean against the table. 
"Good girl, sweetheart. Such a good listener."
Beginning to slide against you once again, you hold back every instinct to push back against him. With every teasing thrust, you feel electrified, your desire for him only growing. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves every moment.
He slowly begins to tease your hole as you stand there whimpering. Pushing the head inside you, and quickly taking it out.
"Please, Matt, fuck me," you plead. "I can't take it anymore."
He pulls away, a devious grin on his face. "Not yet," he says, kissing the side of your face.
He picks you up, carrying you over to the bed. He lays you down, spreading your legs wide apart and kneeling between them.
"I need you to beg. Okay, sweetheart?" He says and you nod.
He slips two fingers into you, pumping and curling to find your sweet spot. You cry out in pleasure as he hits you right where it feels good. 
"Please, oh god, Matt" You moan loudly. "I'm going to come, please I need you in me."
That must have been enough for him. With a low growl, Matt plunges into you, filling you up to the hilt. He thrusts deep inside you in one swift motion, the bed frame creaking under the force of his passion.
He pulls out almost immediately, leaving you emptiness. "Please," you beg, wanting more.
He chuckles softly, teasing you by running his cockhead up and down your slit. "Patience, sweetheart. I want this to last."
He thrusts back into you, moving slowly, savoring every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
The way his cock pulsed inside of you was almost too much to bear. He began to pick up the pace, each thrust harder than the last.
You let out a loud, trembling moan, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you. 
"I love you," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.
"I love you too," you choke out, the emotions taking over you.
He picks up his pace, driving into you harder and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Your body responds in kind, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.
"I'm going to come," you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm starts to build.
Matt's thumb found your sensitive clit, sending you soaring towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he growls.
You let out a wail, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your inner walls clenched around him, milking him as you shook uncontrollably.
He continued to thrust into you, driving you further over the edge. Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body writhing beneath him in pure ecstasy.
Finally, he slides out of you, leaving your inner walls quivering. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as your heartbeats sync.
You lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.
"My ass hurts." You after taking a deep breath. He begins to chuckle as you giggle. 
"Sorry, too much?"
"Not at all."
"Good" He says as he pulls you closer and peppers your face with kisses.
As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, your skin still flushed and sweaty, you can't help but smile. This was more than just sex; it was a powerful expression of love and intimacy.
Matt pulls away and smiles, a look of pure contentment on his face. "I just can't get enough of you." 
You giggle and wrap your arms around him, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.
"Can we talk about the fact that we're engaged now?"
"I've been planning it for the last 2 weeks with Foggy, Peter, and your Aunt May."
"There is no way that Peter kept a secret for that long. How did you even manage that."
"You can thank your aunt for that one. She basically grounded him from texting you."
This made you both laugh. "You know, I'm gonna have to get used to being called Mrs. Murdock."
A smile spreads across his face, "I'm already getting used to it."
As he pulls you in for another kiss, you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. This man. This strong, protective, and passionate man, is now your fiancé. The thought brings a smile to your face, and you wrap your arms around him even tighter.
"I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," you whisper.
He pulls away slightly, a gentle smile on his face. "The future is ours, my love. And I promise to love and cherish you, always."
"Though I do have one complaint."
"And what is that?" He raises an eyebrow.
"You never asked me to be your valentine."
Chuckling, he pulls your hips closer before whispering in your ear. "Be Mine, Forever?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
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213 notes · View notes
valkyriexo · 1 month
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Microphones and Mistakes
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ᑉ³pairing; Dad! Husband! Bangchan x idol! Reader
ᑉ³genre; Angst
ᑉ³warnings; Implied unwanted pregnancy, Arguments, Cursing
ᑉ³Authors Note; This is my first Tumblr Fic! Thank you so much for reading <3 Edited! Please let me know if there are any warnings I am missing!
*·˚ᑉ³Part 2
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"We will be ready to start again in 5," a staff member near the sound booth said. You sighed as you plopped yourself down on the side of the stage. Another staff member ran over to you with water and a new microphone.
"I'm sorry about all the issues, Y/N. We're working to fix them now, and I assure you it won't happen again," he said, handing you the water.
"Thank you," was the only answer you could provide. Anxiously, you sat on the side of the stage, getting your in-ear monitors fixed, already feeling frustrated and out of breath.
This was your debut performance of the highly anticipated Stray Kids X Y/N song. Countless late nights had been dedicated to crafting this masterpiece, with you and your husband Chan pouring your hearts and souls into every lyric and melody. The song had soared to the top of the charts in a matter of days due to its popularity, which brought immense pressure. Any misstep during this crucial performance could spell disaster for both of your upcoming comebacks, tarnishing the success you had worked so tirelessly to achieve. You had run through the performance once, but unexpected sound issues had arisen, causing you to be behind schedule.
Chan, usually by your side and supportive, was busy with his own schedule, making sure he and the kids were prepared for the performance as well.
You scanned the room, watching staff buzzing around and fixing what you could only imagine were other issues. Each staff member moved with purpose, adjusting lights, checking sound equipment, and ensuring every detail was in place for the upcoming performance.
Amidst the chaos, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves. You let the sounds wash over you, the cacophony blending into a soothing rhythm. With each deep breath, you felt the tension slowly ebbing away, replaced by a sense of quiet determination.
Then, you heard it.
The wailing of your almost 4-year-old son, Kai. He had decided that this particular moment was the perfect time to be anything but calm. He cried and wailed incessantly, much to the dismay of the nanny who had been entrusted with his care. Your eyes shot open to see Kai running towards you, with the nanny following just a few steps behind.
"Mommy!" Kai wailed as he ran into your arms.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. He slipped out of my hands and has been crying all afternoon, and I turned for one second to grab him a toy, and he ran off," the nanny explained.
"It's okay," you replied, turning your attention to the crying boy in front of you. "I w-wanna be with M-Mommy!" Kai cried out.
"Kai, sweetheart, you know you can't be in here." You replied running your hands through his hair.
"But Mommy—"
"No buts. Baby, I'm sorry, but both Mommy and Daddy have to work. You have to stay with your Nanny," you said gently, hoping to lure him back to his nanny. But Kai's disappointment was evident as he cried even more.
"We're ready to start again, Y/N," a staff member said ignoring the scene taking place in front of him.
"But I don't like Nanny!" Kai protested, his voice rising in pitch as frustration bubbled within him.
Your patience wavered, the pressure of the impending performance weighing heavily on your shoulders. "Kai, I understand, but you have to be a big boy for me, alright? Mommy and Daddy need to work. We'll spend lots of time together later, I promise."
His bottom lip jutted out in a pout, his tear-streaked face a portrait of stubborn defiance. "I don't want later, I want now!"
Feeling frustrated and overwhelmed, and with Chan nowhere in sight, the only solution in your head was this. You scooped Kai up, adjusting his soundproofing headphones as you got in place to begin the song.
But Kai seemed determined to make his displeasure known. As the music played, and you began to sing, you felt his tiny hands grasp onto your microphone, tugging at it with all his might. In the midst of the commotion, he also managed to yank out one of your in-ear monitors, leaving you disoriented and struggling to hear the music properly.
What you didn't realize is that Kai also had his sippy cup in his hand. With all the commotion, it popped open and spilled—
All over you.
As the music shifted, symbolizing the entrance of Stray Kids, you shot Kai a look, hoping to get him to behave. Your eyes met Chan's, and he shot you and Kai a look of confusion. He noticed you were struggling, and he quickly sprang into action. Despite needing to sing and dance during the sound check, he took Kai into his arms, attempting to calm him down while still fulfilling his duties on stage.
Meanwhile, with your microphone dangling precariously from one hand and your in-ear monitors in the other, you tried your best to soldier on. But the frustration was evident on your face as you struggled to maintain your composure amidst the chaos. The song ended, and you heard your manager through the one remaining in-ear monitor.
"Y/N, what's going on? This is your second run with all the issues fixed, and this one was worse than the first. We don't have time to do this again."
Out of frustration, you pulled the in-ear monitor out of your ear. Without a word, you stormed off the stage, taking Kai out of Chan's arms, leaving him and the rest of the kids behind.
You brought Kai into a nearby room and crouched down in front of him, your anger simmering just beneath the surface.
The sight in front of you was painful. Your little boy stood there, looking so innocent with the cup and a piece of your in-ear monitor in hand.
You couldn’t believe it.
You fought to maintain your composure, but couldn’t. The soft sound of approaching footsteps only served to heighten your frustration, pushing you dangerously close to your breaking point. With each passing moment, the pressure mounted, a simmering rage threatening to boil over.
"What the hell, Kai?" You let out. "What is wrong with you today? You misbehave all morning, are mean and fussy with your nanny, and then look," you said, pointing at yourself, "you pulled off my microphone and in-ears and spilled your juice all over me." The little boy stared back at you with big brown eyes and a pout on his face.
"I've raised you better than this, Kai. What is wrong with you?!" You raised your voice a little, causing Kai to jump. He took little steps quickly to hide behind his father, who was now standing in the room. His little hands were shaking, and his lips were quivering.
Chan's eyes softened as he felt little hands grip his pants.
"Baby...What's going on?" he said to you, picking up his son with one hand, wiping the tears that began to stream down his face once again. "Don’t stress out, baby. It's okay,"
"No, Chan. It's not okay. He's constantly disobeying, and every time he does, you just wipe his tears and let it slide. That's why he keeps repeating these behaviors. You've coddled him so much that we can't even put him down for a few minutes!" You groaned frustrated as you stood.
"Y/n, it's fine. He's just a baby—" You shot a pointed look at him instantly, causing him to fall silent and redirect his attention to his son, who was clinging to his shirt.
"I'm s-sorry," Kai choked on his sobs.
Chan's heart melted at his little pout. "It's okay, baby, no need to cry. Daddy's got you," Chan wiped the tears from his cheeks and gently took the cup from his tiny little hands. "Y/N, look what you've done, now he's panicking."
"Seriously Chan?" you replied, clearly annoyed.
"He's just a kid! Kids cry, they make mistakes. He's still learning, Y/N. We need to guide him, not scold him," his voice grew louder with frustration.
"So how exactly do you plan to teach him? By comforting him, telling him it's alright, and then forgetting about it, knowing he'll repeat the same behavior in the future?"
"HE'S A CHILD, Y/N! He learns through trial and error. He doesn't fully comprehend right from wrong yet. Why do you always resort to yelling? And why am I always the one expected to properly care for him?"
"Properly care for him? I'm the only one who does since you're hardly ever home! I do everything for him. I—"
"Stop being a poor parent and actually teach him. For someone who didn't want a kid, you're oddly protective of him."
You stared blankly at him.
You, the one who was up day and night when Kai was sick, While Chan was working in the studio
You, the only one who took him to all of his appointments, dance classes, games, and events, while Chan was away on tour.
You, the only one who sat with him when he was struggling with homework, when Chan was too tired to stay awake.
You, the one who took care of Kai and never took a break, while Chan never did.
You.
The tension in the air was thick. The shocked gasp that left your mouth was painful. Your head started to spin, your eyes turning red as your body started to overheat. The emotions you felt were overwhelming. Your eyes landed on your son, who was covering his face in his father's chest, as Chan's eyes grew wider and wider, realizing the weight his words had on you.
"I'm- I'm sorry," the little boy squealed again.
"It's okay, baby," Chan comforted his shivering body.
"Well, maybe since I'm such a poor parent and a terrible teacher, I should let you handle it all on your own then," you said, brushing past him and your son and closing the door behind you on your way out.
You were stunned, your mind struggling to process everything. Your hands felt icy, and the weight of it all became too much to bear. You were exhausted from constantly putting up a front, tired of shouldering everyone else's burdens.
You longed for the freedom you once had, to reclaim your own life.
The urge to flee, to escape from it all, gnawed at your thoughts.
Yes, you cherished Chan and the life you shared, but you yearned to rediscover yourself. You craved to feel cherished, to be loved by your husband like you once were. You wished to relive the carefree days of youth, to experience love anew.
You made your way to the dressing room, seeking solace. Despite the turmoil within, you had a show to perform tonight. Sitting down, you took a deep breath, gazing at your reflection in the mirror. Tears welled up in your eyes, staining your cheeks.
No.
You refused to let the chaos of the moment ruin the performance ahead. With determination, you steadied yourself, forcing a smile.
The show must go on.
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*·˚ᑉ³Part 2
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