#Buttercup's writings

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Pt.I: And I don't know what you're doin' tonight…

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: The feeling and flashbacks you get when you saw your high school boyfriend Jake Syverson at your 20 year reunion was quite the unexpected twist in your orderly life.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, body image issues, flashbacks, horny teenagers doing horny things (over 18 tho) heavy petting, fingering, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of breakups, teenage mean girl behavior, the Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, mentions of drug abuse and difficult childhoods, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Explicit description of sex acts. Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is the first installment of II Most Wanted. This is also my first fic in nearly half a year. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-------

June 2024

The visceral reactions started as soon as you entered the parking lot. There it was, Sy’s 1978 white Ford Bronco. Not thinking, you pulled into the space right in front of it, wanting to look inside. You almost lost it when you saw the old charm hanging from the rear view mirror. You couldn’t believe he still had that.

Especially with everything that happened since you put it there.

April 2004

“I claim this ancient truck as my throne!”

You were lit and in love, parked with Sy at the lookout. You were also silly and giggly from smoke and hormones.

“Mmmmm, careful Buttercup.” 

Your boyfriend growled in your ear, making you shiver against him. His attempt at menace was thwarted by the smile you felt against your neck, where he was busy marking you up, a sure sign later for everyone to know who you belonged to.

Sy was known for making bloody the face of those who expressed hate for his beloved Betty Bronco. But you had him whipped.

“It’s a classic, but I’ll let that slide...” 

He wished that you would let him slide, but you were adamant that you weren’t ready to be a parent. He was adamant that that didn’t have to be the outcome, but beneath the red blooded country boy was a gentleman. Sy would never do anything you didn’t want to, not that it stopped him from trying to convince you to admit that you in fact, wanted it as much as he did.

He wasn’t wrong.

You sighed as you placed the Powerpuff Girl necklace you got from Hot Topic on Sy’s rearview as you sat on his lap, giving him a treat. He had you in his grip by the hips and he was subtly moving you against his boner. The attraction between you two was heady, and he almost got what he wanted plenty of times. But you were a romantic and wanted it to be special. You promised him prom night, and Sy couldn’t wait.

“..Driving me crazy, Baby. You can put anything on my rear view as long as you let me get your rear view in the back seat….”

You giggled.

“You’re so corny, Sy.”

You whispered as you turned your head and kissed him over your shoulder. 

“Hmmmm. And you’re so sweet.”

Sy’s sea blue eyes gazed at you as he licked his lips.

He was crazy for you. And you were for him. You felt it. And you just knew you’d be together forever. You grinned as you climbed over him into the back seat. Didn’t hurt to fool around a little, even if you weren’t gonna give him the p that night.

——————

You shook out of the memory as a warm June breeze whipped your short skirt around your thighs. You pulled on the yellow and white designer dress as you contemplated driving back to your hotel and changing. This dress was not a good idea. The triumphant feeling of serving looks when you appraised yourself in the mirror was replaced with anxiety. The dress was too short and you were not the same size you were in high school. Thighs you considered pretty and thick in the mirror just an hour ago seemed massive and you tugged at the deep plunge of the neckline without a bra.

You sighed as you tried to center yourself. You told yourself that you were growing out of negative self talk, especially in the last seven years since your divorce. You were reminded of your promise to never care about the, male gaze again. It just wasn’t worth it.

But you hadn’t been under Jacob Syverson’s gaze in 20 years.

——

Sy posted up at the bar, blue eyes taking in the scene of his former classmates reuniting. He downed his two fingers of Maker’s Mark and asked for another. His heart rate was up as he scanned the room, eyes going back to the door again and again. He was waiting for you. No use in denying it to himself. He wanted to see you again, and more. It was his one objective. An objective he was unsure of attaining.

He was more nervous about being in a hotel ballroom tonight than in Afghanistan. 

Christ, he felt like that 17 year old kid again who first laid eyes on you.

——-

August, 2003

Sy knew what he wanted the moment he saw your face. 

You stopped the world when you first stepped into his British Literature class the first day of senior year. He was seated and talking with his best friend and wide receiver, Jeremy Atkins, when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He let the conversation about which route they should run at the scrimmage that afternoon slip as his eyes lighted on your face. You were anxious, but trying not to let it show. Those eyes held fire, and your lips…

…well your lips besides being everything he dreamt of, he just knew the words that came out of your lips would light someone up as well. He could tell you had spirit by the way you carried yourself.

Your hair was wild and shoulder length, bangs swept aside for vision, and you couldn’t hide that body under your baggy clothes. He lasered in on the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your graphic tee, and power that  the strip of skin between your shirt and your baggy jeans was not lost on him. He was a 17 year old male, after all.

Sy shifted in his seat as he leaned back and grinned to himself when you scanned the room, glaring at anyone who looked askance. He tapped his pencil on the desk to try to get your attention but you just ignored him as the group of seatless students surrounding you dwindled. You were left alone under the scrutiny of soulless cretins, otherwise known as teenagers. 

You gave each one brazen enough to stare at you a side eye, but you stopped when you finally noticed Sy smirking at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, causing him to choke on a chuckle.

Becca Ferguson, Sy’s girlfriend, kicked him in the leg after noticing that not only Sy, but Jeremy were openly staring at you. Shit, he’d forgotten about her. He caught the way her eyes cut over to you, and he knew what came next. He tried to distract her with a flip of the shelf of his blown out curls and a smile, something that had worked many times before. 

But you were a threat to Becca now; she had to do something about you.

You raised your head high as you walked to the seat that Mrs.Beatty pointed out. You passed down the aisle between Sy and Becca, who scrunched up her face as if she smelled something bad. Sy got a whiff of you and you smelled divine, like that Sweet Pea bath gel stuff that he played off sniffing when he went to the mall with Becca. 

His head turned.

Becca glared at him and he turned toward the front of the room, where the teacher had started to pass out the syllabus. 

—--

June 2024

Just like lunch on the first day of school at Central High all those years ago, Carla and Tiffani engulfed you and took you under their wings when you walked into the Marriott, the venue for your reunion. They crowed over you; your hair, your dress, your glow. You forgot any anxiety that you were feeling about how you looked. These were your best friends. Your Bubbles and Blossom.

These women filled the gaping place in your heart torn open from attending 10 different schools from K-12, following your mother’s loves and whims when she didn’t take her meds, or when she self-medicated. They were your soul sisters. And you still kept in touch even though distance separated you.

Carla had that grin on her face while Tiffani expressed her excitement that you were in town.

“Girl! I am so glad that you made it!” 

Tiffani was the gentle one.

“Yeah, I owe Tiff a c-note, because I was sure you’d chicken out.”

Carla laughed at you while you scowled at her.

Tiffani tskd at her bestie, and took your arm while Carla took the other and they ushered you through the doors of the ballroom.

“Well, she has a new job in town and everything, she had to come.”

“Yeah, she had to come to town, but coming tonight is a wholeeee different story.”

You laughed.

“I don’t have the job yet, Tiff. Interview is Monday. And why wouldn’t I come tonight?”

The familiar banter was back, as if 20 years was no matter at all between you and your girls.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you and Carla peered over her shoulder and then smirked at you. She jerked her head back.

“Because of that.”

You looked over your shoulder, smiling right before your stomach dropped.

There was Jake Syverson, all grown up, and staring at you as if all this time hadn’t happened.

—-

Sy saw you enter the ballroom and he almost wanted to run away. Being in country on a dangerous mission was nothing compared to the thought of actually facing you again.

At least he was trained for war. 

Love was another thing entirely.

He took a deep breath as he focused on you. You had always been beautiful, but now, as a grown woman, you were absolutely gorgeous. Your hair was sleek and your face was perfectly beat with makeup that accentuated your natural beauty. You were glowing and that smile was…everything.

As he leaned on the bar and scanned the rest of your body in that dress, he took another drink. Sy indeed felt 18 again, because his body was reacting as if he were a randy teenager. Your body was everything he remembered, and more. More of everything he remembered loving and lusting over 20 years ago. 

“Damn.”

He said it out loud and the bartender replied.

“Agreed, Brother.”

Sy looked at the young man admiring you who couldn’t be over 25, and threw down some money.

“Watch it, kid.”

That little bit of jealousy fueled Sy’s bravado, and he found the courage to step to you. 

—--

You froze like a deer in headlights. 

Over the years, you imagined seeing him again, in all different kinds of scenario, and you thought you could handle it, but the reality of the situation just about knocked you on your ass. Time stopped as you stared at him. 

Sy was more handsome with age, if that was possible. His eyes, his shoulders, his hair! His gorgeous curls were short and a shock of hair was growing from his chin. Your body reacted as your traitorous brain instantly thought of how his beard would feel on certain parts of your body. He looked good in a suit, but he was massive. You had on heels, but Sy seemed bigger than you remembered. He wasn’t the lithe high school quarterback you remembered.

You unconsciously walked closer. 

He was taller. 

But he was also huge: bigger muscles, thicker limbs; his body seemed more powerful all the way around.

Heaven help you.

And the way he was looking at you as if he still owned you, as if all everything that happened hadn’t happened. As if all these years…

Your arms went out to Carla and Tiff beside you for some support, but they were gone, and you stumbled a bit. Sy grabbed your arm quickly as you laughed to play it off.

“Hey Buttercup. You good?”

Goodness, his voice!

How could that damn drawl be deeper and sexier than you remembered? And his touch on your skin felt familiar, yet strange, like a touch from a dream. What was happening to you?

“I need a drink.”

Sy was silent for a bit as you got your drink and had a sip. The way you licked your lips made him want to fall to his knees and beg.

—--

May 2004

“Please, please, please Buttercup. Just let me put the tip in. I promise I won’t move. It wouldn’t really be doing it…”

Sy was whispering in your ear and you were mute, waiting to hear more as your pussy pulsed in your jeans, the grind against his crotch delicious torture.

“I dream about it, Buttercup. I feel you, Baby. So fucking wet for me. I just know that it would feel so, so so good. I’d slip right in.”

It was midnight on your 18th birthday and you were in the Bronco, letting Sy feel you up under your panties for the first time. Your head was thrown back and your eyes rolled at how good it felt. You didn’t know how you would hold out. But it was just three weeks until Prom.

You were sat on his lap and he had one hand down your jeans and one up your shirt.

He pistoned his hips up, causing your back to arch against his chest. You could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.. Sy’s voice lowered to a whisper.

“‘M Gonna taste my fingers, Buttercup. Watch.”

You opened your eyes as Sy pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth. You whined when he closed his eyes and moaned. You throbbed. It had never been like this before.

“You are so delicious… Need more…”

Sy pushed his hand back down into your pants to get you to do that arch again. It sent him feral to see that for some reason.

His fingers found the source and circled it, causing your body to tense up and your fingers to grab his arms.

“Oh my god! Sy!”

You’d come close to this feeling before just grinding with him on the back seat, but this was incomparable.

Your fingernails sunk into his forearms, creating marks for sure. This fueled him even more as he continued his ministrations at your core. He toyed beneath your bra and your mouth opened to seek oxygen as the feeling in your belly continued to tune you to a fever pitch.

“Yes…. Baby….. fuck… You gonna cum on my lap?”

“Hunnnh, hunnh, hunnnh!”

“You’re so fucking hot… I’m about to jizz in my pants… cum for me, Baby…”

Sy grinded against your bottom, and you stiffened while the world’s most wonderful feeling washed over you. You cried out as Sy pinched your nipple and you came, feeling as if the Bronco was caught up in the Wizard of Oz Twister. The world was certainly now in color when you could open your eyes.

Sy held you, watching your beautiful face as you pouted and came back to earth. When you did, your smile was worth all the gold in the world to him. He kissed your temple and slipped his hand out of your pants, sucking your juices off of them again.

You were about to jump him, but Sy interrupted your thought.

“Now that you’ve got a preview of Prom night, let’s get you home, Buttercup. Gotta get your beauty sleep for the festivities later on tonight.”

—-

Sy cleared his throat after staring at you silently for a solid three minutes. The way you licked your lips clean and focused on him was some powerful magic.

“So. How have you been, Sy? How is the family?”

You tried to keep any bitterness out of your voice. The fact that Becca Spurgeon ruined your prom (and your relationship with Sy) by announcing that she was pregnant with Sy’s baby after she was crowned Prom Queen and he Prom King was something you’d tried to get over for 20 years. 

Sy straightened up and looked over your shoulder. You glanced in that direction to see Carla and Tiffani hovering protectively. 

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

——

If you like it, hit Reblog!

Next part here.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the croissants

buttercup, chapter one

a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.

summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)

word count: 2415

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?” 

Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”

“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”

“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”

Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.

“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”

“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.” 

“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.” 

Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”

“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”

“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”

As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out. 

Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”

“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.” 

“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.

“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.

“Bye!”

You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up. 

Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door. 

“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up. 

Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.

“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?” 

“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.

“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”

But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”

Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open. 

“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment. 

Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own. 

“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!” 

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around. 

“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him. 

Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”

“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”

“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”

“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.” 

After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.

“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined. 

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first. 

“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction. 

“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”

“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”

“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?” 

“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”

“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”

“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”

“You?”

“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship. 

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”

“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”

“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”

“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.

“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”

“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”

“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”

“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”

“Yep.”

“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”

“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”

“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”

“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”

“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”

“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words. 

But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”

The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.

Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”

Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”

Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”

“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”

“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”

Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks. 

As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips. 

Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?” 

“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue. 

“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”

“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”

“Sure, I like croissants.”

“Oh, great, wonderful!”

Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”

“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear. 

It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again. 

“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.” 

As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.  

“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!” 

And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared. 

“Night.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[katiefromcabin7]

HOW HAS NO ONE MADE A PRINCESSES BRIDE PERCABETH AU!!!!

Hear me out:

Percy being Westley the Farm Boy before going off to get money for marriage and then becoming the Dread Pirate Robert’s (slayer of the seas). You can’t tell me that boy wouldn’t say “As you wish” and do everything in his power to get back to her.

Annabeth obviously being Buttercup. (A more badass version)

Frank could make a good Fezzik, because he’s kind and on the quieter side. Also having Vizzini assume strength is his only asset because of his size and Frank would never be unsportsmanlike in a duel.

Octavian being Vizzini, thinking he’s the smartest in every room and his own ignorance leading to his death.

I feel like Nico would make a good Inigo Montoya. Like “My name is Nico DiAngelo, you killed my sister. Prepare to die.”

Leo would def be the guy that made the life draining machine lol

Anyways my obsession with The Princess Bride is back and it’s crossing over with PJO in my brain lol

[hamsternamedmarinette]

✨ School pictures ✨

[jackhues]

oops - b's version

note: this takes place in 2030, bee's 22 years old and graduated uni. she's in med school

summary: in which sid accidently spills who bee's boyfriend is

buttercup's world! au masterlist

buttercupcrosby

liked by _connorbedard, mackinnon29, stephmarner & others

buttercupcrosby: life lately <3 (we're not including all the times i cried during med school)

view comments

kevinkorchinski: wow i can't believe you taught him how to put your shoes on -> buttercupcrosby: that's actually him taking my heels off and then giving me his shoes bcz i was tired -> kevinkorchinski: s i m p -> buttercupcrosby: okay? and what about it? -him

userone: nah girl's been soft launching THE SAME GUY for years now -> usertwo: we're never gonna learn who he is

e.malkin71geno: ooh what you reading? -> buttercupcrosby: percy jackson!!!!!! -> e.malkin71geno: the greek one that make you go crazy -> buttercupcrosby: ... okay that's fair

mackinnon29: i've noticed this isn't the spam, which means my comments will not be super unhinged -> userthree: NO NATE YOU NEED TO GO UNHINGED WE NEED TO KNOW WHO HE IS -> mackinnon29: please don't yell at me -> buttercupcrosby: he's tearing up rn -> mackinnon29: i'd watch my words if i was you

penguins: that's our baby crosby -> buttercupcrosby: AYEE PENG-WIN TN?? -> penguins: don't shoot the admin 🏳️ harass the players

stephmarner: ooh my girl's glowing 🥰 -> buttercupcrosby: mwah

userfour: WHO'S THIS YT MAN AND WHY'S HE WITH MY GIRL??

userfive: we're never finding out who he is are we 😭😭 -> usersix: frr! it's been yearsss

---

TRANSCRIPT FROM THE TSN PODCAST, GUEST STARRING SIDNEY CROSBY (3:09 - 7:35)

podcaster: switching gears a bit, you have a daughter, correct? she's in med school i think.

sidney: yeah, buttercup, bee, bumblebee - she's got lots of nicknames *laughs* she finished university, doing a double major in sports management and biochemistry. which is pretty tough, especially since she was on the hockey and lacrosse teams. but she loved it, and she somehow managed to graduate in four years, so i'll take it! she's going to med school in chicago now, trying to be an anesthesiologist.

podcaster: wow, that's - that's a lot

sidney: *laughs* it's a lot, yeah

podcaster: fans noticed that you've been going on vacations more during the summer. is that to get bee's mind off of school, because you're not playing anymore, something else?

sidney: oh, it's a mix of everything, i suppose. bee's real busy during the year. she went to stanford for four years, now she's in chicago - like over the last few years, she's just had a lot on her plate. so yeah, we like going out a lot during the summer. but we spend time at home too. we all play monopoly together, we go fishing, they push me in the water-

podcaster: i'm sorry, they push you in the water? you're sidney crosby, i thought mackinnon idolized you growing up

sidney: not anymore, bee made sure of that. it's worse because they got connor involved in this too, so it's three on one. i mean i used to hold the fact that i'm a better hockey player, but they've been breaking records and i'm out of the game now, so- *shrugs*

podcaster: *laughing* oh man, this is gold

sidney: what're you gonna do? i mean, nate's been here too long for me to kick him out, and connor - it doesn't look like he's leaving any time soon.

podcaster: connor bedard's been having a great career, especially over the last few years. do we have you to thank for that?

sidney: no, no, he's a great kid. he's really good at hockey, he was amazing even during his earlier seasons. but i think the media was a little bit crazy about him, and once they calmed down, he got a chance to flourish. nothing to do with me, he's great on his own

podcaster: but you still like showing him up?

sidney: *smiles and shrugs* i mean i don't go up against him in the league anymore, so sometimes i gotta do it in the garage

END TRANSCRIPT

---

---

buttercupcrosby and _connorbedard

liked by mackinnon29, calemakar_, kevinkorchinski & others

buttercups: bet you never saw it coming

view comments

pinned buttercupcrosby: thanks dad 🙄 -> userone: THANK YOU SID

_connorbedard: you're not getting away from me -> buttercupcrosby: i fucking love you so much you have no idea -> usertwo: 😭 you don't get it 😭 he's using a percy jackson quote 😭😭 she loves those books

userthree: HOL UP! THEY'RE ENGAGED?? -> userfour: well they've been together for like three years now

mackinnon29: i'm so happy i can say whatever i want without checking whether it's ur spam or regular

mackinnon29: you guys are disgusting -> buttercupcrosby: disgustingly cute

marner_93: ugh we're finally allowed to talk about it

penguins: congratulations!! totally not crying at how big baby crosby is, nope -> e.malkin71geno: i am -> buttercupcrosby: aww geno🥺

[rachiecrown]

RAHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS PROMPT (screaming loudly) THANK YOUUU

----

"I'm pretty sure it's alive." Grian stated, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. Mumbo fidgeted nervously as he stood next to Grian. Scar stared upwards, squinting as a cloud moved away from covering the sun.

The Entity stood tall over the trio, mossy and imposing. It looked like a rock. A rock with insect-like legs, that is. Why Grian was so incredibly obsessed with it, Mumbo and Scar didn't know. The two were beginning to worry, actually. Grian had poured his all into researching The Entity and its properties as of recent, and hadn't been taking proper care of himself as of late.

Mumbo could probably see Grian's eyebags from several chunks away if he squinted enough, he was sure. Scar thought he heard Grian's stomach rumble at one point.

"That does it, he's gone mad with lack of sleep and food." Mumbo spoke. Grian's wings twitched. His wings didn't look all that good, Mumbo thought. "What?" Grian asked, his head turning to face Mumbo.

"I wholeheartedly agree!" Scar chirped. He linked his right arm with Grian's left, and Mumbo copied, his left arm with Grian's right. Grian in turn flared his wings. "Hey, wait- Wait where are we going!?" The avian exclaimed as he was led away from The Entity.

He was dragged into his own home, to a chair, and was sat on it as Scar went to make some food and Mumbo pulled out a fence and trapdoor to act as a table. Grian stood. "I- You two can cook and nap in my house all you want, I need to get back to my research." He claimed.

As Grian turned to leave, however, Scar grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. "Oh no you don't, mister!" Scar chirped, turning and pushing him back down on the chair. "You need a good meal and a nap!" Scar turned back to cooking. Mumbo then added, "And the state of your wings.. They're in desperate need of preening."

"My wings are perfectly fine!" Grian claimed. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in them that suddenly made itself present as he flared them out. Mumbo tsked.

Scar then brought a dinner of baked potatoes, steak, and carrots to the table, balancing two plates on one arm as he sat down a third in front of Grian. "Dinner is served!"

"Don't expect me to eat all this now-" Grian began to say, but Scar tutted an set the other two plates down as Mumbo retrieved two stair blocks from his inventory to act as chairs. "You, sir, are going to eat as much as your stomach will let you."

Grian slumped and stared at the food in front of him. His servings were much bigger than Mumbo's and Scar's, and really, he wasn't very hungry for the mountainous pile of a delicious looking meal.

Well, maybe he could have another bite. He could feel himself salivating at the aroma of the seasoned potatoes, and his stomach grumbled at the sight of the juicy steak. His hand moved on its own and just grabbed the fork, stabbing into the potatoes and moving towards his mouth.

Well, there's nothing I can do about my hand moving on it's own... Grian thought, and before long, the plate was empty. He hadn't even realized how hungry he was.

"My, that went down quick." Mumbo commented, and Grian felt his face flush. "Listen here, it was good food, okay?"

"Aww, that means I'm a good cook!" Scar cooed. Grian shook his head fondly. "Thanks for the food and all, I'm getting back to resear-" Grian was cut off as Scar stood and grabbed him, lifting him over his shoulder. Grian shouted and flared his wings in surprise. "Not before you rest those sleepy birdie bones of yours!" Scar declared, heading towards Grian's room.

Grian kicked and squirmed. "Noo, I don't want to!" He complained as Scar brought him up the ladder. Mumbo was quick to follow, leaving his still half-finished meal on the table.

Grian was dropped onto his bed and Scar dusted off his hands in a showy way. Mumbo reached the second floor and put his hands on his hips as Grian sat up. "Guys, I'm not tired!" He complained, but was practically forced to lay back down as his friends kicked off their shoes and clambered into the blankets and sheets with him.

Surely not, they weren't- Were they babysitting him!? Grian flopped around and ended up on his stomach, Scar clinging to his arm and Mumbo sitting in the pillows. Grian turned his head to the side and huffed out, noticing Mumbo looking at him.

Reluctantly, Grian spread his wings out over the sheets and Scar, stuffing his face back into the blankets. "There's our birdie!" Scar cooed, and Grian reached over and put a hand in Scar's face. "Ohhoho! Noo!" He cried and sat up, his face out of Grian's reach. "You won't be stealing my nose this time!"

Mumbo chuckled. "He almost got it." He teased, only for Scar to reach and squeeze Mumbo's nose. "Heehee, got your nose!" Scar's voice went up an octave in playfulness and Mumbo rolled his eyes before grabbing Grian and pulling him over.

Together, Scar and Mumbo worked through Grian's feathers, gently tugging the loose ones out and straightening out the crooked ones. Leaves and twigs and moss were pulled out from the wings, and if Grian were to say he didn't enjoy the feeling of being handled so carefully, he'd be liar.

Grian let out a warble of contentment, forgetting about The Entity and his research with closing eyes. It could wait a few hours, alive or not. All that mattered to the pesky bird in his brain were Mumbo and Scar at this moment.

"I love it when he makes those bird noises, it's adorable." Scar whispered as if Grian couldn't hear. Grian's wings twitched when Mumbo promptly agreed.

Mumbo was soon finished with Grian's left wing, and Scar finished with Grian's right shortly. Gently, Mumbo pulled one last loose feather from one of the two smaller wings on the sides of Grian's head which sent Grian into a shudder. His feathers ruffled and he cooed loudly.

"Oho, what a mighty call!" Scar praised, grabbing Grian's face and pinching his cheeks. "Stoooop!" Grian half-mumbled and stuffed his face back into the sheets. Scar and Mumbo giggled.

Mumbo shifted and put himself under Grian's wing, one arm going over his back. Scar laid down and ran a hand through Grian's hair.

Distantly, Grian wondered how he got so lucky, warbling softly as his friends drew closer and embraced him. He tucked his head under Mumbo's chin, with Scar wrapping his arms around both.

Grian closed his eyes in comfort. He would rest, for now.

[hopepetal]

Hi I heard about the slightest possibility of Boatem buttercups and just decided to write a tiny thing with it. Short bc I don't have the time or wrist health to write more but I love them ok

--

“I still think the dye was a little much,” Pearl commented as she wove flowers together with a masterful hand, “I mean, you're just stealing Jimmy's aesthetic at this point, aren't you?”

Grian huffed softly, rolling his eyes. “I'm showing team spirit, Pearl. And besides, you did...” He gestured toward her wings– feathered and shining a harvest gold. “...whatever that is, to your wings! That's way more than I did!”

“Should I have dyed my hair?” Mumbo asked, glancing up at the two siblings. “I mean, if you two are, well, so spirity...”

Impulse shrugged. “I already have yellow on me, so I think I'm good.”

Scar looked up from where he was helping Mumbo weave his own flower crown. “Well, I think you both look amayzin'. Just like real buttercups! Though Pearl, I'd love to know what sort of illusion magic you used for the whole look.” His eyes seemed to sparkle as he beamed. “I'm a curious man, you know!”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head. “A lady never reveals her secrets.”

“That's just unfair,” Grian muttered, “why do you get to keep secrets?”

Impulse smirked. “I think the better question is, why can't you?”

Grian shot him a glare. “I keep more secrets than you know!”

“Sure thing, poultry man.”

Grian squawked, and the rest of the Boatem Buttercups burst out laughing. “That's unfair, I've only told you four!”

Pearl set down her flower crown, raising her eyebrow. “After half of us found out on our own?”

Grian grumbled, going back to working on his flower crown. “You're all so mean to me.”

Scar laughed, reaching out and patting Grian's shoulder. “Aww, G, we don't mean it. I didn't know you were poultry man!”

Mumbo gave him a quizzical look. “Weren't you the first person–?”

“Nope!” Scar interrupted cheerfully. “Oh, Mumbo, you want to do it like this–” He went back to helping Mumbo with his flower crown.

Pearl hummed softly as she continued to make her crown, giving pointers when asked. Finally, upon finishing, she placed it on Impulse's head with a smile. “There ya go!”

Impulse chuckled, and gave Pearl the crown he'd been working on. “Just in time, apparently.”

Grian placed his flower crown on Mumbo's head, and Scar placed his on Grian. Finally finishing with his own crown, Mumbo gently set the crown he made on Scar's head.

“Perfect! Now we're all really the buttercups,” Grian declared.

[bbeeew-boodles]

Ppg if it slayed

[writingsbymo-mo]

The one thing Ran will miss as a dad: sleep...any kind of sleep

He loves his kids...but also sleep....

Has Rindou watch them when he really needs that nap in on occasion and doesn't wake up for two days worrying the shit out of his little brother and the kids...he makes up for it in the end, spending all of his time with them and taking off work

Rindou had to explain to them the many times their dad would sleep for hours on end and the one time he slept for a whole day straight. Even the dreaded time he woke him up...

[ramp-it-up]

Two Most Wanted Pt. 4...Anytime you Like

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: You have your way with Sy. Or is it him having his way with you? 🧐

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, talk of birth control, Graphic sex. Fingering, manual sex (f receiving) oral, Dom Sy is coming out to play, degredation AND praise kink, dirty talk kink, begging, raw p in v, size kink, pleasurable pain, rough sex, copious amounts of bodily fluids, some fluff and just a lil' angst at the end. This is 2.5k of porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the fourth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

------

Sy gladly let you pull him into your rental.

Then, he took control.

He pushed you against the wall and placed his hands on your waist, bending down because of the height difference, even though you were wearing four inch-heels. You’d missed how tiny he made you feel.

Sy’s mouth was so close to yours as he queried you. His eyes were so intense.

“You’re not done with me yet, eh?”

You pouted and his lips tenderly touched yours, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips. His tongue insisted that you belonged to him and yours agreed, the two dancing passionately.

“Good girl. Opening up for me like that.”

Your head was spinning and you whined in your throat. 

“Hm.” 

Sy grunted and then smiled before he kissed you again. You were glad for the wall as you were weak for him again. 

“Whatcha wanna do with me, Buttercup?”

Sy’s fingers were on your ribcage now, his large hands spanning your torso. Then, his hands were everywhere as he explored your body, from your breasts over your dress, to your back, down to your ass, which he squeezed as his mouth possessed yours again.

“I want to be your cum slut, Sy. Want you inside me.”

Sy stopped moving, resting his forehead on yours and his hands on your hips. He huffed into your face.

“Holy shit, Buttercup. I thought I was calm after what that mouth of yours did in the Bronco. But what that mouth of yours says…”

Sy’s hand was on your jaw and you turned your head to capture his thumb and suck it. 

“Wan’ you to fill me up, Sy.”

You looked him straight in the eye as he pressed the rock hard length in his pants against you. His pupils were blown and you felt enormous power.

“Hm. The thoughts you think, Buttercup.”

Sy examined your face as he questioned you, his blue eyes making you shiver.

“You want me to fuck you raw…?”

You smiled at his lewd suggestion and the gravel in his voice, and lifted your arms, placing them on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“I’m on the pill. And tested regularly. But only if you want to.”

The expression on his face was priceless.

“If I want to? Hell, Buttercup. I’ve wanted this for 20 years. Jesus, it's really happening.”

He looked as if he would devour you.

An unexpected joy at his want caused a giggle to bubble up in your throat as Sy rolled you around the corner, further into the room, and started trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck right below your ear. His hand was on your ass as you started to grind on air. He remembered your spot.

“Fuck, Sy!”

His other hand came up around your neck and tightened to let you know who was in charge, and you whimpered as he looked down at you and grinned.

You pouted at him, frustrated because you wanted to feel all of the things at once.

Sy’s hands roamed, finding your waist again and lifting your feet off the ground as he kissed you, making you heated at the show of his power. He set you down again, squeezing your breasts and sucking the tops of them in your dress as you writhed in his grip. 

“Let me see you in the light, Buttercup.”

He reached around and wasted no time in pushing his shirt off your shoulders and unzipping your dress to let it fall to the floor.

Sy stepped back and took all of you in. You felt like a piece of art as he studied you. You concentrated on not covering up. 

This was a long time in coming.

“Damn, Buttercup. You’re so beautiful. All of you. Better’n my dreams.”

Sy looked into your eyes after taking in your curves. Hungry.

“Kiss me, Sy.”

He did as you asked, hands on your breasts now, kneading them and weighing them in his hands, his thumbs thrumming you like an instrument. He kissed you fiercely, then looked into your eyes again as he slid down to inhale you, mouth sliding over your flesh, between, underneath, on top, and finally, sucking your nipples into his mouth with abandon.

You moaned as your pussy pulsed with need.

“Sy…please…”

“Don’t rush me now, baby. I’m gonna savor this.”

He kissed you again, and then slid his hand down your torso to your pussy, finding you still so wet for him.

“Hm. Such a good girl, with such a good pussy. Here. See.”

He held your gaze as he brought his fingers up and put them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

It was so dirty that you practically came from the taste of your desire for Jacob Syverson. 

“Thaaaat’s a girl. Get ‘em even wetter.”

He removed his hand and brought it back down to your cunt.

“I want you to cum for me. Right now.”

“S-Yyyyyyy!”

Most of his fingers went inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. He practically lifted you off the ground as he fucked you with his hand, watching your face as he alternated marking you up and sucking your nipples hard.

“So fuckin’ hot, Buttercup. Good girl.”

His voice was doing things to you. Sy grinned and his eyebrow arched as he felt you clench on his fingers. He brought his mouth close to your ear.

“Which is it, Buttercup? Are you a cum slut, or a good girl?”

Your head went back into the wall as you moaned, baring your throat to him again.

“Or is it both? Are you my good little cum slut?”

“Oh my fucking godddddd!!!!”

You came in his arms and Sy watched you, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t wait anymore.

He picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed as he took off his shoes and clothes. You sat up to look at him.

He was massive. Sy had matured from a lithe youth to a grown man and he was thick all over. The curls on his head continued on his face and on his chest, a dark rush of it pointing down to his cock, which you knew was big, because you’d tried to swallow it earlier. But seeing it like this, hard and throbbing, curved against his hairy stomach, large mushroom tip leaking, thick shaft throbbing, made you lean back with your legs open. 

‘I want that,’ you thought.

Sy took it in his hand and started stroking, causing precum to drip out and you to lick your lips.

“You’re about to get it, Buttercup. Anything you want. Look so fucking beautiful all laid out for me.”

You smiled as you realized you’d said that out loud and you opened your legs wider as he climbed between them. He handled you like a rag doll as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to his legs as he knelt on the bed. He grabbed your knees and spread your legs up and apart as his long thick cock slid in between your legs, smearing your wetness all along the underside of his shaft.

“Mmmmmmmm, Sy, want more.”

He was skating in your slick, driving you wild with the tease of the cap of his cock catching on your clit as he moved back and forth.

“Patience, Buttercup. Need to lube myself up with your cream.”

Sy was enjoying how wet you were and the fact that he was actually between your legs after all this time. He watched, almost mesmerized, at his cock moving through your folds, and his dick jumped, slapping you on the clit and making you moan.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… OH shitttt. It’s too much!”

You’d gone from begging for his dick to pleading for mercy as his thick head breached you. You stared at Sy wide eyed as he grabbed his shaft and stopped moving. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting you.

“You good? Want me to…”

He made to pull out and then you implored him.

“No! I mean, it’s so big, Sy… but I want it. Need. It.”

You grabbed your breasts as you felt him cock jump within you.

“More, please.”

“Mmmmmmoooooahhhh,” Sy groaned deeply as he slowly eased into you and at the vision of you pulling your own nipples as he stretched out your soul. 

He bottomed out and licked your exposed neck, causing you to shudder in his hands, which were gripping your ribcage. You looked like sin and felt like heaven around him. 

“You good, Buttercup? Please say you’re good. I need you to be good, baby. ‘Cause I need to fuck you so bad….”

Sy was panting and his heartbeat was erratic.

As always, his words made you gush wetness and you arched as you kissed him, laying down fully and bringing your hands to his short curls.

“I’m good Sy,” you looked him in the eyes. “So fucking good, all full of you. Fuck me. Please… ah!”

As soon as you said ‘fuck me,’ Sy started moving slowly, dragging sparks with with each millimeter of movement inside you.

“More…”

You whispered it as all of your senses came alive and were overwhelming you. 

Sy sped up and looked from your eyes to his cock destroying your pussy. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long, your face, your hair splayed out beneath you, hour breasts with nipples erect and bouncing, the way he was moving you like a doll as he helped himself deliver the dick to your pussy.

“Good god Buttercup. This cunt is so tight and wet and hot for me. Shit, you stretched around me is so much better than my imagination….”

“Ooooh. Sy. Feels so…Your cock goes so deep.”

It had never been like this before. With anyone.

Sy gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned back and grabbed your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half so that he could plunge even deeper inside you.

Your head shot up to witness him ravaging you as he slowly fucked you with long and deep strokes. You dug your nails into his forearms, holding on for dear life. He fucked you so good that you gouged scratches down his arm and the pain sparked a new pleasure in him that he didn’t know he needed at the moment.

He was inspired to fuck you better, faster, harder.

Sy reached up behind your head and pulled it down by the thick curls at your nape as he leaned over you, caging you in with his massive body as he thoroughly and soundly tried to put you under the bed.

Your belly tightened, your insides in a vice grip of pleasure as you tried to run. There was nowhere to go, however, as Sy was all around you. He felt you tense up, heard your whimper and kept a steady pace, his balls tight against him, the notion of making you cum with just his cock a long held ideal.

“What’s wrong Buttercup?”  

He looked you in the eyes before he kissed your lips.

“Afraid to let go? Don’t want to let me have the cum I’ve been waiting for?”

“Unh! Sy…”

You felt him in your belly, thick in your channel like he was made of you. You knew what was about to happen. And you wanted to get away from it.

Sy read the look on your face.

“Unh unh. You’re going to stay and take my cock like a woman. Not gonna run. You’re gonna take this orgasm, gimme your cum like I deserve it.”

Sy didn’t let up on the intensity, but he looked down and surveyed what he was doing to you.

“Look at all that beautiful cream. Looks so fucking good. Making me drool.”

You had an out of body experience as you watched the saliva leave Sy’s mouth and drip onto your clit and as soon as it made contact, you came, gushing more fluid in between you two.

Sy pounded you through it for a few thrusts, then he pulled out and rushed to collect some of you on his tongue.

“Goddamn. So fucking good, Buttercup. Taste yourself.”

He was up again and before you could protest, was back inside you, hand on your throat as he kissed you hard and deep, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his resolute pounding and the taste of your cum combined. He trailed his hand down your neck to your breast, rolling your nipple for a second before finding your hand and holding it above your head as he looked into your eyes. 

Suddenly, he became tender, looking as if he was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear, so your other hand found his ass as you encouraged him to find his own end.

“Gimme your cum, Sy. You owe me. Some. Cum.”

He licked his lips at the filth you were uttering and responded in kind.

“Anything you want, Buttercup. I’ve got so much, you’ll be leaking for days.”

You arched your back and bit your lip at his words and as the music of skin slapping on skin intensified. You felt yourself tighten impossibly around him again. And so did Sy.

“Oh…. no….” 

You felt as if you couldn’t take another, but Sy wasn’t done with you yet.

“Oh, yes, baby. Just give me one… more….”

Sy’s thumb found your clit and as you came around him, he emptied all he had inside you.

“You feel like…like heaven, Buttercup.”

Your hands were on his face as you watched his ecstasy and as he pumped more and more of his seed inside you. You smiled and kissed his forehead as his head bent in exhaustion. You wanted to say that he was beautiful, but that would be more than you wanted to convey. You just kissed his lips when he looked back up at you again, and you collapsed on your sides, your bodily fluids between you and his slowly softening cock still inside you.

Sy pushed your hair back from around your sweaty face.

“Look, Buttercup, I know that you are holding back. But you can’t stop me from saying it again.”

“Sy-”

“Shhhh, Buttercup.”

Sy smiled. Handsome wasn’t the word.

“I love you. ‘Til the day I die.”

He brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.

“I know you’re still trying to process everything, and I can only imagine all of the things that are going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but you’re mine. I’m claiming you. Whether it's for the rest of our lives, or just for this weekend.”

You just looked at him and nodded, emotional and unable to speak.

“Just want you to know where I stand. This wasn’t just notalgia sex.”

He slipped out of you and rolled over on his back before he got up and headed toward the bathroom.

“And for whatever time period I have you, I’m yours. Anytime you like, Buttercup.”

He looked back at you with a saucy grin as he caught you ogling his ass.

You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him turn on the water. There was a lot going on in your head, but Sy had just told you that he wanted you and simultaneously taken the pressure off this weekend.

You thought about what you wanted. And what you wanted was currently taking a shower. You walked into the bathroom to have some more of him. You opened the shower door and Sy reached out and pulled you in.

“Get in here Buttercup, the water’s fine.”

That grin would do you in.

Next part here

——

Hit Reblog if you like it!

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the brie

buttercup, chapter two

a/n: i was originally gonna go into more detail and dive into and actually write the traumatic moments, but i decided to go a little bit more easy on myself, just focus mostly on the healing part and regaining the good.

summary: “well, we’re going out to our usual watering hole, or it’s not just us, Karen, who works with us, is also tagging along. Would you wanna join? Might be fun… might tear the city up, dance all night and watch the sunrise or whatever kids do these days.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, wingman foggy, reference to croissant theft, alcohol consumption, drunk munching on cheese, kissing, crying, retelling of trauma (if it gets too much for you, then please feel free to just skip the last part of this chapter)

word count: 4978

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

Scooping one divided lump of dough closer with the bench scraper in your grasp, you put it down before first folding the bottom of the blob over itself, then the sides and then stretched the top down as well before you rolled it all up to create that much more tension in the loaf. As you plopped the soft mass into one of the nearby dusted bannetons, nippily pinching the seam and giving it a few stitches, the ingrained dance only kept on as your fingers moved on to shape the next loaf of sourdough. 

To your left, not at the central table where you worked, stood your uncle Howard, a piping bag of vanilla-flaked cream in his grasp as his rotund frame bent over rows and rows of delicate, flaky little pastries, filling the sunken centre up before he could top them off with little chunks of crimson berries. 

“Are you alright, cupcake?” you glanced up to see Walter leaning against the doorframe that led directly behind the counter, “you look like you’re about to nosedive into the dough and use it as a pillow.”

“I’m alright, just didn’t sleep much last night,” you blinked back down at your work, noting how your weary eyes stung slightly from the lack of rest, “I had a nightmare that was really, really not fun, and immediately when I woke up I started crying and shaking, like instant panic attack, so I couldn’t really fall asleep again after that,” you glanced back up at him and offered a tight-lipped smile. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“I just don’t get why it has to feel so real,” you let your hands halt their waltz as you shared, Howard too glancing over in your direction, “why my body needs to remember it so vividly when I fall asleep. It hasn’t forgotten it while I’m awake, so I don’t feel like I need the reminders… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s–…” instead of uttering the painful truth, Walter instead let a heavy sigh flow and offered, “…do you want me to make you a cup of coffee? Maybe that could be nice, just a little bit?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, “thanks,” before clapping the worst of the flour off your hands, briefly wiping them against the chocolate brown apron that partially covered your t-shirt and jeans, and wandered around the table, shadowing Walter as he fiddled with the espresso machine, making it hum and puff, till he handed you a steaming mug that had a little heart in the frothy foam floating on the top. 

“Here you go.”

Bringing it up to your lips, you offered him a genuine smile, “thank you, Walt.”

Staying behind the counter as Walter disappeared into the back, the chime of the small bell above the door brought your attention to the pair that then strolled in. Setting down your latte and expecting it to be just any other customer, your eyes instead went wide as you saw who it was.  

“Heya, neighbour!” 

“Y/n, hi,” Matthew smiled as both he and the floppy-haired man beside him came to a stop on the other side of the stocked display case, “uh, Y/n, this is my friend Foggy Nelson,” he gestured to the friendly looking fellow, “Foggy, this is my new neighbour Y/n.”

“The pastry goddess!” Foggy exclaimed excitedly, “I bow to the.”

“Goddess?” you giggled, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you glanced over at Matt, secretly in hopes that he’d gotten that nickname from him, “oh, I don’t know about that. My uncle’s the one who oversees most of the pastries. He studied in Paris back in the 70’s, so in other words he’s a bit of a control freak. But, he is getting better! Slowly letting me take care of more things that I’m more than capable of doing… I’m talking a lot, aren’t I?” you sucked in a sharp breath as you noticed 

your rambling, “I’ll shut up. The point was just that he is the one who makes most of the pastries here, not me. He’s the goddess.”

“Well, I tasted one of your croissants the other day–”

“Actually,” Matt raised a hand and interrupted his friend, “you stole it.”

“I did not–”

“You came over and I turned away for two seconds and the next thing I knew you’d obliterated the entire bag.”

“That sounds more like your problem,” Foggy joked, managing to keep a straight face as Matt chuckled, “you’ve known me how many years now? You should know not to trust me with baked goods unless you mean for me to enjoy them,” turning his attention back to you, he leaned his folded arms against the tall section of the counter, “anyways, Y/n, that croissant was properly one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.”

“Really?” your face lit up with a bright grin. 

“Yes, it was so buttery and flaky and urgh!”

“Well, if you liked that, you might like today’s special…” your feet began to carry you further to the left to the very far side of the counter. 

“Oh, please do tell me,” he followed along like a magnet.

Pointing down to the pastry row on the other side of the glass, you explained, “it is this rhubarb danish that also has a little base of pastry cream at the bottom to balance out the tart compote.”

“Oh… my… god…” Foggy nearly salivated, his hypnotised gaze never straying from the treat, “you gotta be some angel sent from above.” 

Busting out a laugh, you grabbed a brown paper bag, “should I take that as confirmation?”

“Yes, please,” he nodded as you plucked one up with a set of tongs. 

“Will that be all?”

“I don’t know if it ever can be all, but slowly but surely I’ll get through your spread, and that is a promise,” Foggy accepted the bag into his waiting fingers, “but for now, yeah.”

“Matt, do you want anything?” you asked, feeling the flutter of butterflies wake up within your stomach as you returned your attention to him, “do you want me to describe the options for you?”

“No, I’ll just have the same as Foggy, as well as–, do you sell coffee?”

“Oh,” the scent wafting off your half-empty mug probably caught his attention, “yes, we do.”

“Then I’ll have a cup as well.”

“Oh, one for me too,” Foggy interjected. When you’d packed up another pastry and filled up two to-go cups, the shaggy-haired man pipped up as they were paying, “hey, what are you doing later tonight?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Properly just head home and rewatch some series for the billionth time,” you said, putting the cash they’d handed you away in the register, “why?”

“Well, we’re going out to our usual watering hole, or it’s not just us, Karen, who works with us, is also tagging along. Would you wanna join? Might be fun… might tear the city up, dance all night and watch the sunrise or whatever kids do these days.”

A laugh then rumbled within Matt’s chest, “we’re not gonna go dancing, Foggy.”

“You never know,” Foggy sang, “I’ve got moves like you wouldn’t believe!” he snuck a small sip of his steaming coffee before meeting your eye, “so, Y/n! Please tell me you’re coming?”

“…and then Karen was like what’s that? Turns out a giant piece of glass had stabbed my side,” Foggy clutched onto his drink as he told his dramatic tale, “I nearly died.”

Cutting her sip of beer short, the golden-haired woman sitting beside him at the round bar table objected, “you did not nearly die.”

“Oh yeah?” Foggy squinted light-heartedly back at Karen, “says the person who barely got a scratch. I single handily rescued both you and Mrs. C from that building and got a sick ass scar to prove it.”

Their voices faded away like grown-ups in a Saturday morning cartoon as you glanced back down at your drink and let the radiating heat of the man next to you seep into your bones. As your fingers brushed down the sides of the glass and played with the condensation, Matt suddenly reached out for his own, though in his search for the stout glass that stood ever so close to your own, his touch briefly grazed against your skin. But if that wasn’t enough to spike your heart rate, when his long fingers enveloped his short glass, the back of his hand pressed up against yours at the proximity.

You weren’t sure how long it persisted before he raised his dark drink up to his lips, but it didn’t seem like he was in a rush to let the contact fade. Your breath managed to grow ragged in the chunk of time you got to stare down at his hand, it looking so massive up against yours. Though the light in the dingy bar was low, you could still manage to make out the dizzying pattern of prominent veins that cascaded off the back of his hand like a calm rainfall rolling down a windowpane. 

For a moment there, assisted by the few drinks in your system, you let yourself dream, just for a little while, just until Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and stirred you from your fantasy. 

“… I mean, am I right? I’m right. Come on, Y/n, back me up here!”

“Huh? I’m sorry, uhm…” you blinked, in some ways feeling more drunk than you had a minute ago, “wha–what did you say?”

As Foggy then began to explain what you’d missed, Matt leaned down close to your ear and whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin and causing goosebumps to erupt. 

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hummed fuzzily. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you glanced down and noticed how rapidly your chest was rising and falling. 

“Do you wanna go home? I can walk with you if you want,” he offered quietly. 

“Uhm…” you blinked up at him before uttering, “sure, but I don’t wanna end your night before you want to.”

“No, you’re not,” he reassured you, “I’m ready to go home myself.”

“Alright then,” you nodded before Matt turned to the others. 

“Guys, we’re gonna head home.”

“No!” Foggy boomed, “really?”

Throwing her hands up, Karen added, “but we haven’t even gone dancing yet!”

“Sorry,” Matt got up from his tall stool, “another night.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you tugged your jacket back on, “I had a lot of fun.”

To your surprise, they both got up and hugged you in return.

“Thank you for coming!” Karen gave you a tight squeeze before Foggy took over. 

“And we’ll be seeing you for the next one, right?”

“Uh, sure,” you gave his back a light pat, “if I have time and stuff the day that it happens, then I’d love to tag along.”

Casting his glance upon the other lawyer, “bye, Matt,” Foggy then yanked him into an embrace, “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Matt chuckled, clapping his friend’s spine, “I know, buddy.”

“You love me too, right?” Foggy pulled back, though still kept his hands fast on Matt’s broad shoulders, “don’t leave me hanging, it’s bad for a man’s health.”

“Foggy, I started a firm with you. Of course, I love you,” Matt smiled back at his sloshed pal, “good night.”

“Night, night,” Foggy patted his scruffy cheek before letting him out of his gasp, though adding as you turned to exit the bar, “night, Y/n! I love you too! I just met you today, but I love you!”

Soft giggles bubbled out of you as the door slammed shut behind you. 

“So, those are your friends...” you smiled into the night, “I like them. They’re nice.”

“Yeah,” the corners of Matt’s lips turned further up till dimples bloomed, “they’re good eggs.”

As the two of you began to move along, the silence didn’t last very long at all. 

“This is really nice of you, walking me home like this,” you uttered, “I know it’s just because we’re neighbours and headed in the same direction, but–”

“It’s not.”

“What?” your eyes found him.

“It’s not because we’re neighbours. It’s just, you know, the decent thing to do.”

“Right,” you exhaled, casting your glance back down onto the sidewalk as you momentarily got your hopes up. 

“And you know how this city can be,” Matt went on, “it’s not smart for anyone to walk alone at night.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, trying to keep your tone nonchalant, “of course.”

When a street then appeared before you, slicing the path you journeyed on, and even though there wasn’t any traffic in sight, your hand still instinctively shot down to grasp Matt’s forearm before the two of you could cross.

Realising what you’d done, you quietly muttered, “sorry,” though couldn’t find the strength to withdraw your touch just yet. 

“It’s okay,” his low voice slid from his lips like silk. 

“I just didn’t want you to walk straight out into ongoing traffic...” you tore your gaze away from him and forced yourself to look at the road before you, “but there aren’t any right now, so we can cross the street…”

Guiding his palm up to the curve of your elbow, he accepted the gentle aid as you began to cross the lane. 

Once you’d reached the other side and his grasp slowly began to drift back down. When his palm reached the height of your own, you softly caught it before timidly testing, “…do you mind if we–…”

“Hold hands?” with a gentle smile, he filled in before you might wonder if he could even sense your shy touch at all.

“Yeah…”

“No,” you felt him weave his fingers with your own, “not at all.” 

His touch somehow felt even better than you’d imagined. Though surprisingly gruff, with harsh calluses all throughout, he cradled your palm with such care, like he’d held it a thousand times before, occasionally swiping his broad thumb over your knuckles, presumably just a subconscious gesture from his end that still caused shivers to trickle down your spine every time he did so. 

You wanted the latter part of your walk home to last forever, engulfed in the comfortable silence of endless possibilities. But alas, when you did reach your building’s front door and then climbed the steps all the way up to your respective apartments, you couldn’t get yourself to let go just yet. 

“Are you hungry? Because I kinda am,” you weren’t really, but anything to just stretch the night a little longer, “or maybe it’s just my subconscious taking care of me and lessening my hangover by giving me a sudden craving for cheese.”

“I don’t think I have any cheese.”

“I do,” you said maybe a bit too fast, “do you want some?”

Exhaling lowly, a soft smile twitched at his lips as he then uttered, “sure.”

As you unlocked your door, you finally let go of his hand, “make yourself at home!” you placed your keys down on the slender entry table before kicking your shoes off and peeling off your coat, hanging it up on the row of hooks, “oh, do you want me to, uh, describe the layout for you? Or just plant your down on the couch?”

“Just tell me the direction and I think I’ll be fine.”

Facing him, you haphazardly explained, “alright, the hallway goes on for a few steps and then it’s to your right–, no, wait, my right, that’s your left. It’s to your left.”

Whirling around, you delved deeper into your home till you reached the kitchen. Ripping open the fridge, you snatched up a block of half-eaten cheese before seizing a clean butter knife from the dishrack and a roll of seedy crackers from a cupboard. 

Matt was already comfortable on your sage couch as you laid the humble spread out on the coffee table and joined him. 

“I hope you like brie because that’s what I got. Unless you want a single slice of american cheese, then this is all the cheese I have to offer.”

“Brie it is then,” he relaxed into the cushions as you unwrapped the snack. 

“Here, let me make you a bite,” slicing off bits of soft cheese, you spread it both on a cracker for him and one for you. Gently picking up his hand to place his snack in his palm, you then popped your own in your mouth and nearly melted into the couch next to him, “yep… that’s the spot…” you grinned hazily out the tall windows at the night sky as you chewed, “there’s just something about eating cheese when the moon is out that’s just so right in a way I can’t describe…” 

Your murmuring conjured a light chuckle to rumble within Matt, one that swayed your gaze to train on him. Resting your head against the back of the couch, you watched as the moonlight reflected in his tinted glasses. 

When the silence stretched on, Matt eventually cocked his head, “…what?”

Not tearing your eyes off of him, you breathed, “nothing…”

“You’re quiet,” his dark brows furrowed gently, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you repeated, feeling almost like you were floating in a calm sea. 

“You tired? Do you want me to go so that you can go to bed?”

“No, please don’t, I–…” you reached out and grazed his arm, “could–… do you want to go?”

Letting his body relax once more, he breathed, “not particularly…”

Gazing up at him, your bottom lip snuck its way in between your teeth, “Matt…”

“Yeah?”

“You–… you’re–… I–…” your pulse pounded in your ears. 

“Mhm?”

“I really, really wanna kiss you right now…” you uttered thickly before you had the chance to chicken out. Like a wave crashing a shore, you didn’t even think as you let yourself dive in and press your lips to his. The kiss however didn’t last too long as you swiftly drew back as soon as your brain turned back on and you realised what you’d done, an apology hastily rushing out of your lungs, “Oh my god… I am so sorry.”

“Y/n,” hearing your name on his silky tongue did not help matters. 

“I didn’t mean to just–”

“Y/n,” he repeated, trying to cut through your fog. 

“We can just forget any of that ever happened, I totally get it if you don’t–”

As he brought his hands up to cradle the sides of your face, your nervous ramble fell short. When he ghosted his thumb across your cheekbone, you swore that you stopped breathing entirely. 

“…can I kiss you?” he slowly asked, leaving you utterly dazed. 

“W-what?”

Drawing in a breath, he repeated for you, “can I kiss you, Y/n?”

Blinking back at him, you hazily hummed, “mhm,” before he leaned in and brushed his lips against your own. The kiss was soft, just as your shoddy attempt had been, but it made your limbs feel like they morphed into jelly. When the pecks soon departed, you filled your lungs with a shaky breath as you gazed back at him in total awe, “holy shit…” only staying there a moment before you had to have another taste. 

Slowly growing more confident, the intoxicating kiss gradually grew more hungry. When his fingers then weaved into your hair, you realised that up till now he’d been holding himself back, gatekeeping a kiss that caused your frame to crawl into his lap, starving for more. Your little whimpers vibrated against his tongue as he danced it against yours, growing dizzy as you melted into the heart-stopping sensation. 

But suddenly a tormenting flash stabbed your being, and you abruptly tilted your lips away from his, breathlessly uttering, “wait, wait, there’s-, there’s-, uh…”

“What,” he breathed thickly, nose grazing yours before you retracted further, “are you okay?” 

“I’m…” carefully crawling off his lap, you kept going till you were a safe distance away on your own side of the couch, “Matt, there’s something I need to–, uhm, tell you…”

Staying silent, he patiently waited as you gathered up the courage needed to jump off the cliff and tell him.

Casting your gaze up to the tall and dark ceilings above, you felt your limbs begin to tremble, “okay, alright… I have no idea how to, uh, say this, so I’m just gonna do it,” and like a band-aid, you uttered, “I-, I was raped,” your eyes squeezed shut, not daring to risk glancing at his reaction, “a little over a year ago… and I haven’t–, uhm, done or tried anything with anyone since… so yeah, I just thought that was a good thing for you to know since even though I hope for there not to be any problems, I just don’t know, I don’t know what it will be like for me, if my body will suddenly freak out, but I just wanted to tell you so that in case something does happens, that you know not to automatically take it personally...” drawing in a shaky breath, you fluttered your gaze open and waited for his response, “Matt?”

“Yeah?” he answered carefully. 

“Please don’t say that I’m scaring you away right now…” you shifted your position, turning to face him once more.  

“You’re not, you’re not,” his head softly shook from side to side, “I just–… I really, really sorry.”

“Yeah…” you exhaled slowly, feeling tears sting the corners of your eyes, “me too…” staring at him a moment, you then bared your all and uttered, “I really like you, Matt,” a faint smile accompanied the declaration, “I think you might be the only guy in all of New York that I’m not scared of,” every other man you could think of had all had at least a second, a little flicker, of something that over the past year had terrified you, “and I don’t want you to think that I’m made of glass, that’s not what I want, that’s not why I’m telling you this. Please trust me when I say that I want to, I wanna do–…” a weighty exhale flowed from your lungs as your lips remembered his taste, “I wanna do everything with you… if–, if that’s something you’d like as well… but if we do, even though I really, really want to, I think it’s probably smartest to go slow, no pressure, you know, just in case, so that my body doesn’t freak out. Also, I’d really appreciate it if I at any point indicate for you to stop or even just pause a moment, that you’ll do that, that you’ll listen to me,” you briefly glanced down at your fiddling fingers, “and you know, I’m not saying let’s only do PG things, there are so, so many wonderful steps on the way that we can have fun with… I just–, I wanted to let you know now, before, so that we wouldn’t potentially have this conversation when something did happen.”

Only parting his lips when he was sure you were done, he uttered, “thank you for telling me. Are you–… are you okay? Was what happened before too much?”

“No…” you shook your head gently, “no, it wasn’t,” taking his hand in yours, you shared, “and I’m okay, I think… I mean, some days it still feels like it just happened, and others I notice something, something small, that I’ve gotten back, that I’ve regained…” absentmindedly tracing the lines of his palm with your thumb, you asked, “do you–… do you have any questions? Is there anything you wanna know?”

“No, I–… I just want you to tell me however much or little you feel comfortable with sharing.”

“…can I tell you? About it?” you asked slowly and he swiftly offered you a soft nod. Drawing in a deep breath, you began, “It, um, it was a Saturday night… I’d just gotten back from the bakery super late, maybe close to midnight… and when I was getting ready for bed, my roommate came home, he’d been out drinking as he usually spent his weekends. I remember we stayed up a while, just talking about the mundane stuff we always did. It was like any other Saturday, really. That was until I got too tired and went to go to bed, but he didn’t wanna stop talking, so he followed along into my room while I got ready and stuff,” averting your gaze, your bottom lip began to tremble, “we were just talking, it wasn’t anything special and then the next thing I knew, he was kissing me. It just–… it happened so fast… his hands were all over me… I remember he pushed me up against my closet so hard that my back was bruised the next day, and I don’t bruise that easily. He was just so wasted that I don’t think he realised or maybe even cared what he was doing. I tried to say something, tried to make him stop, but he didn’t listen to me. If he heard me, then I don’t think he understood what it was that I was saying… I would have pushed him away, slapped and hit him, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t move my body, not even a little, I just froze…” 

“I can still feel what he felt like… like my skin won’t let go of the memory…” tears rolled down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ignore how your palm tingled with recollection, “how he forced me to touch him and held his hand over mine, making it move as if he just thought I didn’t know what to do… he was my friend, you know? He wasn’t just some stranger who dragged me into an alley and held a knife to my throat. He was my friend. He would always make offhand jokes about seeing me as just a little sister and how he wasn’t attracted to you at all. Made such a big deal of it that I never thought he’d try anything… I have no idea how long it actually went on… I don’t even remember when it was that I landed on the bed, if it was before or after he–… after he–… did stuff, t-touched me… I just remember I was laying there when it happened. The masked man, the devil of hell’s kitchen, he ripped him off of me…”

“He’d somehow heard… I think maybe if I hadn’t opened the window that night to air out the room, he wouldn’t have saved me… he beat him up... knocked him out… he told me to call the police, but I couldn’t, so I instead asked my uncle to come get me… my body’s never shaked the way it did that night… I remember I was so confused because I wasn’t cold, didn’t get it till the masked man said I was in shock… it didn’t stop till the next night… when he was about to leave, I asked what if Mi–,” you couldn’t get yourself to utter Michael’s name out loud without feeling as if your whole world would crumble around you, “what if he woke up before Howard arrived, and so he just stayed there with me, right till he somehow heard my uncle walking up the stairs and then he slipped out the way he came in, right before I heard the front door unlock.” 

Letting out a long and unsteady breath, you raised a trembling palm up to wipe your cheeks. 

For a while, the silence got to encompass the space completely, your left hand still shaking in Matt’s as you eventually heard him ask. 

“Did you ever go to the police?”

“No. In the small window that I had to do one of those kits, I was just way too overwhelmed and confused and I just couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t do anything but relive that moment over and over again, so I didn’t do anything in time. But the longer time that passes and the more it sinks in what he did and the ways that I’m still paying for it, the things he ruined inside of me that I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to get back, the more I wish that I had gone to the police. But it’s too late now.”

“No, it’s not,” his fingers squeezed slightly around yours, “I could help you, I’m a lawyer after all.”

“No, Matt,” you said firmly, “it is. I don’t wanna sit there and hear them go oh, it’s your word against his, sorry, and have them think that not enough happened technically for them to take it seriously. Enough happened, trust me. I’m eternally grateful that Daredevil saved me from whatever else he could have done to me that night, but enough happened. Just because he didn’t stick it in me doesn’t mean nothing happened. That is the kind of belief that only belongs to people who think that the only sexual act that counts as sex is when a penis is in a vagina, and that is just so incredibly wrong,” an enraged laugh tumbled out of you as you fumed, “they are the kind of people who think that someone queer, disabled or just someone who isn’t into that sexual act isn’t actually having sex when they are. Sex is about connection, it’s about pleasure and there are endless amounts of things that can give a person pleasure,” clenching your jaw, you let out a heavy sigh, “I wish it could be different, I wish many things, I wish it hadn’t had happened at all, but it did, and I hope that at the very least he learned something from it, that he changed, that he wouldn’t do it again to someone else.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hannah-heartstrings]

            Stalks lean towards the sunset, their yellow cups reaching to catch the last of the light.

[miradelletarot]

You want fluff? You want smut? you want pre-wedded bliss? you want sexy time during a thunderstorm?? Then LOOK NO FURTHER!

Slaps this post like it's the hood of a car This baby's got everything you need right under the hood! Just click the link and take 'er for a spin!

[poisongod420]

Each time a fanfic writer makes the boys “stronger than the girl because science and guys r stronger heheh🤓🤓☝️” an angel loses its wings

(If u disagree don’t tell me I don’t rlly care 🤾)

[jackhues]

request: sid at bee's high school graduation

requested by: @abbycole :)

bee peered through the curtains, trying to find her dad.

she was prepped in her graduation robe and cap over her dress, with her hair braided down her back - courtesy of the stylist she had for years.

it was finally the day of her high school graduation, which might not seem important to most people, but it was special for her. and her dad. it meant that the two of them made it this far. and it meant that they were going to be separated soon. with bee going all the way to california to study at stanford... it wasn't going to be easy.

but today, they didn't have to think of that. it was a day to celebrate and not think of the future and how little time they'd have left.

and then she saw her dad, sitting right up at the front row, making polite conversation with some of the dads around him, but she could tell he wanted to ignore them. he was just too nice for that.

bee snapped her head up at the sound of her name, before straightening up. she made her way across the stage, stopping by the principle and taking the diploma from her.

"congratulations," she smiled at bee, "you're going to great things, i know it."

"thank you," bee smiled back, unafraid of that statement. she was going to do great things, it was time she realized it.

she posed for a few pictures, laughing a little as she saw her dad ignore the other guys trying to talk to him (and maybe sneak an autograph). he took out his phone and snapped a few pictures of bee, giving her a thumbs up as she continued across the stage and down the stairs.

she waved at her dad once more, before rushing back to her seat to watch the rest of the ceremony. she clapped dutifully as every graduate was announced, even cheering as some of her friends walked down.

the ceremony zipped right past and the next thing she knew, her name was being called on to give the valedictorian speech.

she made her way to the stage again, smiling a little at everyone clapping and some of her friends cheering her on.

taking a deep breath, she began her speech. she talked about school and how she'd cherish the memories. stressing over her exams and tests, laughing with her friends in the hallways, winning games and celebrating by going to the mall afterwards. because that's what they were now: memories. she thanked her grandparents and her aunt, and then all of her 'uncles' who helped out - causing a few of them in the crowd to hoot in response.

"but most of all, i'd like to thank my dad," she looked up at him in the crowd. he was teary eyes and smiling, but bee knew he was proud of her. "everything i've done, he's supported me and loved me, more than two parents ever could. i wouldn't be here today, giving you all this lovely speech, if it wasn't for him. i may be his number one fan, but he's my biggest in return. thanks dad."

she finished off her speech with a few more words, before making her way down the stage. she took a detour to where her dad was sitting (how could she not), giving him a big hug.

"i'm so proud of you," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. she was wearing her heels, making them nearly the same height.

bee smiled at that, realizing just how much she'd grown - they'd both grown - over their time together. she really wouldn't have been here if it weren't for him.

they'd have the summer together, at least.

[rachiecrown]

I dont fully remember what the og ask was but im p sure it was smth like

Hotguy and Cuteguy fighting for mumbos (a civilian) attention

Could be villain v hero, vigilante v hero, vigilante v villain, both on the same team

HEEHEEHOO THIS was so fun to write honestly :33 freakin have some villain Grian and hero Scar fighting over the silly civilian reporter with a mustache they both have crushes on!!

Also btw I used Xelqua for Grian instead of Cute Guy cause I feel like the resident supervillain would not appreciate having matching names with his arch nemesis.

---

Today was a perfectly average day. The temperature was nice, not too hot to sweat, not too cold to wear a coat. People made their way to and from work, here and there from places in the shopping district. Traffic wasn't too bad and the sun was about to reach its solar noon.

Everything, today, was normal, and Mumbo hoped to the high heavens above it would stay that way. Now, that was an odd wish for someone of his occupation, but nowadays all Mumbo wished for was just a bit of normalcy.

Mumbo was a journalist, you see, but not on mundane topics like coffee shops or pigeons (not like they were boring, no, they were plenty interesting in their own ways). He followed the stories and fights between heroes and villains as up close and personal as possible, even risking his life several times in the process.

At first, it had been an exciting job to follow fights both big and small with his fancy camera in one hand and his motorcycle's handles in the other, weaving through traffic dangerously and filming the way the most powerful hero and villain fought together above traffic. The hero lived up to his name, Hot Guy, with his majestic hair and his somehow beautiful scars, and the villain, Xelqua, was stunning with his white wings and graceful movements.

It had all gone downhill the day Mumbo got caught between a violent fight between the two. His adrenaline had peaked that day, he thought he was really gonna die! But for some inexplicable reason Hot Guy and Xelqua stopped their fighting, showing some sort of immediate interest in the journalist. Mumbo honestly believed he would never be scared again after that day.

Weeks and months passed, either one or the other of the powered menaces finding Mumbo and causing all sorts of mischief to surround him. Three months ago, all Mumbo wanted was a shot as a journalist to earn good money.. but today, all he wanted was a sense of peace and normalcy.

"Well, well, well." Well, there goes that wish. "If it isn't mister Mumbo." Ohh, great, he knows my name now. Mumbo turned around slowly to face the one and only Xelqua. The villain had his hands folded behind his back, his wings spread behind him as he took a few steps towards Mumbo.

"Well well whoopsie, looks like I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time." Mumbo muttered, turning back around to continue walking. He was stopped by silky gloves grabbing his shoulders and Xelqua putting his chin on Mumbo's shoulder from behind. "Don't be a party pooper, pretty boy." Xelqua cooed. Mumbo just slipped out of his grasp. "Listen, I'm sure you understand time constraints, I have somewhere to be." Mumbo lied.

Xelqua basically wilted at this. "You're saying you don't want to spend time with me?"

"When did I ever want to do that?" Mumbo shot back.

"Well hello there!" A third voice sounded.

Mumbo wanted to scream.

Hot Guy approached the two with a lopsided smile, his hand going to Xelqua's face and pushing him away. "Is this horrible, horrible villain bothering you? Do you need a safe escort to wherever you're going?" Hot Guy wondered. Mumbo glared at the two. "I have a lunch to get to before I get hungrier. Now if you'll excuse me-"

Mumbo turned on his heel, only for both of his arms to be grabbed by two pairs of hands. "I'll go with you!" Xelqua shouted, siding up to Mumbo. Hot Guy pulled Mumbo away from Xelqua, picking him up bridal style. "No, I'll get you where you need to go, safe and sound!" He proclaimed. Mumbo just sighed. "Here we go again.."

Hot Guy turned and ran the second Xelqua reached for Mumbo. "So where do you need to go, Mumbo?" He asked, his mechanical glider unfolding and letting him take flight. Oh, wonderful, you know my name too. Well, as long as this gets me where I'm going and you leave me alone, I'll accept it. Mumbo thought. "Shopping district, food court on Ninth Street." Mumbo said. At least this was free transportation.

Mumbo looked around and spotted Xelqua, soaring after Hot Guy with an upset look on his face. Mumbo sighed. "Xelqua on your seven." He exasperated, in which Hot Guy turned quickly around a corner and set Mumbo down. "I will defend you, beautiful citizen!!" He shouted boisterously, striking a pose just seconds before Xelqua tackled him

The two went tumbling into an alley. Mumbo, truly, was unfazed. He snapped a photo of the two wrestling for the news before he turned and walked towards his lunch spot, which was luckily only a block away now.

All I want is one day. One day! But noo, these two utter buffoons have to bother the ever living bits out of me. I'm the opposite of chuffed, today. Mumbo's internal dialogue spoke as he entered the shop and made his order. He sat at a table near the back. Ugh, he couldn't even enjoy window views anymore because of those two..

Whatever. He had his food, and that was a good thing. Customers came and went as Mumbo filled up, slowly becoming more content with his day again..

..until Xelqua entered the shop.

There were shouts and screams from civilians as Xelqua spotted Mumbo and made his way towards the back. Mumbo would've let himself faceplant into his dish if he wouldn't get dirty. Xelqua stopped in front of his table and held up a thorny rose that was so very clearly picked from someone's rose bush.

"I'm sorry about Hot Guy ruining our special day," Xelqua said, "please take this rose!"

Mumbo stared at Xelqua incredulously. "What kind of stunt is this then!?" He blurted out. Xelqua pushed the rose forward. "I'm not taking the flower! It's full of thorns!" Mumbo then shouted.

The shop's door chimed again as Hot Guy entered, sauntering his way over to Mumbo and shoving Xelqua out of the way with a bouquet of red carnations. Hot Guy placed the bouquet in Mumbo's arms and procedurally messed up the mustached man's hair in the process.

"Is he bothering you?" Hot Guy basically cooed. Xelqua squawked in offense and grabbed Hot Guy's hair, pulling it, causing the hero to shout and grab back at Xelqua. Mumbo simply watched apathetically. Weeks ago, he would be flustered beyond no end, probably folding in on himself and unable to properly take the attention, but he came to realize in this moment that he had become desensitized to the antics the hero and villain put up.

Goodness, these two made Mumbo feel less like himself with each encounter. He dropped the flowers on the table and stood, snatching up his food and walking out as the two fools fought behind him. Being around them really just drained his energy, now.

-

It was hours later when Xelqua pulled off the stupidest stunt of them all, and Mumbo found himself stuck in an abandoned apartment in a pile of pillows with the villain curled around his torso. Despite his apathy towards Xelqua and Hot Guy fighting over him and getting him flowers, he could at least admit that his face felt a bit hot at how Xelqua's head rested on his chest and how his leg crossed over his waist.

Mumbo could only groan in defeat at the desperate antics of the avian. Whatever. He could maybe give in just a little bit, right? Not like this would matter once Hot Guy found this place and distracted Xelqua enough so he could make his escape.

Hesitantly, Mumbo let his hand hover over Xelqua's head. His mind distantly brought up the idea of pulling Xelqua's hair to get him off, but he mentally shot that down, as that would really only make the avian angry. He was a highly dangerous villain, after all.

He let his hand settle on Xelqua's halfway up hood. It would be a small gesture for anyone else, but to Mumbo it was a huge step of faith that the villain wouldn't get even more lovey over him.

Thinking back, this was probably a mistake.

Mumbo and Xelqua jumped as the door slammed open. "So this is where you've taken him!! You scoundrel!! You menace!!" Hot Guy shouted, pointing at the now incredulous Xelqua who held his head up with a look of shock on his half covered face. "How did you even find us!?" Xelqua shouted, which Hot Guy marched over and shoved the screen of his phone in Xelqua's face. "I tracked his phone!"

Mumbo cringed at that. Is that how Hot Guy's able to find me so easily? He was grabbed and lifted by Hot Guy, which Xelqua shrieked and grabbed Mumbo's arm. This quickly resulted in a tug of war with Mumbo as the rope.

"He's mine! I had him first!"

"guys-"

"Let go of him, you fiend!!"

"you both, please-"

"I kidnapped him fair and square!"

"Well I'm here to rescue him!!"

"BOTH OF YOU!!!'

Mumbo yanked his arms away from the two and pulled in on himself. He was about to make a horribly stupid negotiation. "You two either get along and share me on that pillow nest right there-" he pointed past Xelqua, "or none of you will receive any positive emotion from me! Ever!"

The hero and villain both stared at the journalist, and something inside Mumbo's mind screamed at him for saying such a stupid thing. He already began to get nervous by the time the two shared a glance.

"Fiiiine.." Xelqua rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. Hot Guy kicked idly at the floor with a pout. "..maybe I could share.." he mumbled out.

And that was how Mumbo found himself more flustered than he'd like to admit in the grasps of two extremely powerful people who were just so oddly infatuated with him. Xelqua laid with his head tucked under Mumbo's arm, his left arm over Mumbo's stomach and his legs linked around Mumbo's right thigh. Hot Guy had opted to tuck Mumbo's left side into his chest with his right arm over Mumbo's chest and his left pillowing Mumbo's head. One of Xelqua's wings covered the three of them together, blanketing them in a sort of nice warmth that Mumbo didn't know could come from wings.

The journalist could practically feel the animosity radiating off the two, but he could really care less about their feelings for each other. He rested one hand in Xelqua's hair, and the other on Hot Guy's hand. Both the villain and hero made pleased noises at the touches. Mumbo rolled his eyes. "Goodness, the both of you are complete dorks."

Mumbo would just pretend that his cheeks weren't bright pink.