#Drabble requests | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amhrosina · 2 years ago

Note

Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face

a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!

warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy

masterlist // join my taglist

You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears.

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”

Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.

“Sweetheart?”

His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.

“Hey, Frankie.”

You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade.

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.

“Did someone hurt you?”

His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress.

“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”

He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?”

“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.

“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly.

You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”

“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.”

You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet.

“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”

“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.

“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”

You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders.

“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.

“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”

“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”

Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance.

“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”

“I thought you’d be more mad.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”

You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.

“What were you cooking before I came home?”

Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”

You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.

Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.

“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”

He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.

“You found it?” You gasped.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.

“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”

He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”

You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth.

“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @ostricx @horrorflix @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @fxlsealarm @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @laaundromat @coacaiyne @niki-is-a-thing @deactivating-this-blog @bxmaaa @kentdreamingspam

3K notes · View notes

readerstories · 10 days ago

Note

what about nr 3 on the list with deadpool & wolverine? with who is up to u

Okay so this got away from me a bit lol, but anywho, here's some Poolverine x gn! reader :D Drabble requests with the latest reblogged prompt list open until the end of the weekend!

Prompt: 3) “How do you feel about adding another person to the mix?”

Warnings/tags: established relationship, pre-relationship, polyamory

Wordount: 815

Logan is still not quite used to being around a lot of people without it being a bad thing, but Wade's friends (and by now, his) filling the apartment are kinda nice. He most likely will get overstimulated at some point, but for now he's relaxing on the couch, beer in one hand, the other arm thrown over the back.

“How do you feel about adding another person to the mix?” Is the first thing Wade asks when he flings himself down onto the couch next to Logan, and bullies his way into his side. Logan grunts, arm moving from the back of the couch to curl over Wade's shoulders.

"Not that I don't think you are enough, but I think it would be really hot to have some more filling in this sandwich! Or for me to be the filling between two hot bods! Or you between one hot bod and one half-rotten bod." Logan growls at the insult Wade hurls at himself, but that's something to take up and argue about later, not right in the middle of all their friends. Which by the way, Logan is happy none of them have enhanced hearing (that he knows of), because of course Wade had chosen a chaotic moment to bring this new topic up.

"Who?" He's not unfamiliar with polygamy at all, it can be a lot of fun, but he's picky (he can allow himself to be that now, in this universe).

"I'm not going to point, so look over towards the snack table, but try to be subtle even if that isn't your strong suit, my little brute." Logan looks around the room, pretending he's just letting his eyes wander, before they settle at the two people standing and chatting over there.

"Dopinder?" Wade groans, hitting his head against Logan's shoulder.

"Yes, Dopinder, straight as an arrow Dopinder, who is disgustingly in love with a woman. No! The actual cutie chatting to him, you fool!" He figured Wade meant you, but fucking with Wade is fun, even in small ways. He lets his eyes wander all over you. You are indeed cute, but also hot. The clothes you are wearing look comfy, but also good, like you put effort in even if you were only seeing friends that no doubt have seen you in worse.

You catch him staring, his gaze almost like a physical weight. You give him a little smile and wave before turning back to Dopinder. You shake your head with a smile at something he says, Logan wonders what about.

"I can hear your gears turning in that not so little head of yours." Logan turns to Wade, who's watching him with big and eager eyes. It would be a lie to say he hadn't looked before. He had looked since he first saw you at the first party Wade did after Logan moved in.

Well, it wasn't the first time he had seen you, but he was a little preoccupied to notice how good you looked when you were crammed into the polaroid that Wade had waved like a shield in the Honda.

He had never planned at doing more than looking, happy with having just Wade, but since the man is offering…..

"Yeah." Wade grins at him, leaning forward to plant a wet, but quick kiss on his mouth.

"Fucking knew it. Their charm is irresistible." Wade glances over to you, clearly checking you out while Logan checks him out, squeezing his shoulders.

"How are we doing this?" Logan asks, drawing Wade’s attention back to him.

"Well, I think you should get up and get over there, work your irresistible charm. Conveniently, you need a new drink." Logan looks at his still half full beer, but before he can say anything, Wade snatches his drink and downs it in one go. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and it's through sheer will that Logan's thoughts and blood doesn't go straight south.

"Now up and at 'em' tough stuff." Wade pats his cheek, Logan snaps after his fingers, but gets up. "And be a dear and grab me some snacks. Some actual ones, not just the one we are trying to get into the pants off.” Logan rolls his eyes, starting to walk over to the snack table where Dopinder is showing you something on his phone now. Your mouth is full of food, so you cover your mouth as you laugh, your eyes connecting with Logan's over the edge of your hand.

Logan hopes this goes well, he's rusty flirting with anyone else but Wade (he doesn't think the threat of stabbing you would go over well). But he doesn't worry too much as you keep looking at him as he approaches, and then draw him into the conversation as he nears.

93 notes · View notes

taestefully-in-luv · 1 year ago

Text

Summer Heat

Summary: You run into your ex Taehyung at a bar and go home with him just to keep hanging out. But perhaps Taehyung wants more. And so do you.

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: exes au, exes to lovers, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, dialogue heavy, communication, fingering, mention of oral, unprotected sex.

Notes: An exes to lovers Taehyung drabble request!!!! sorry it took so long...hope you enjoy anon! (and whoever else hehe)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why did we break up?”

Did he ask that? Or did you? You aren’t sure who asked that. You just know that it’s been asked by one of you. The question floats in the air, the words growing bigger until they pop next to your ear. Your stomach stirs uncomfortably when the words echo a little, and finally, you realize it sounds a lot like your voice. You gulp.

“You don’t know?” Taehyung leans against the door frame, wood creaking before his arms cross over his chest. “If you don’t know then I definitely don’t know.” He suddenly smiles.

You’re wondering how you two ended up in his guest bedroom at his house. How you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel neatly folded in your lap as you wait for Taehyung to leave the room so you can shower. You glance at the dresser where his clothes lay on top, ready for you to borrow. Wearing his clothes is…

“Sorry.” You look down, “I shouldn’t have asked honestly.”

“Why not?” His voice is teasing.

You look up again, “Because we spent the whole night talking about how the past is the past and I don’t know, it just felt nice to hang out. I don’t want to ruin any,” You motion your hands in the space between you, “Like…vibe we got going on.”

Taehyung laughs, his back relaxing more against the wall. “It has been fun, right? Who would have thought I’d run into you tonight.”

“I can’t believe its six in the morning.” You glance towards the window, a dark blue sky beginning to light up. “Thanks again for letting me crash here.”

“I’m the one who insisted we stay up.” Taehyung stretches his neck, a small smile still on his face. “We had, what was it? 5? 6 years to catch up on?”

“Something like that.” You smile back, shrugging a little. “Lucky tomorrow is Saturday and we don’t have to work.”

Taehyung gazes at you, the softness in his eyes hard to miss. “I think I would have stayed up no matter the day of the week.”

Your stomach tightens, “Oh yeah?”

“So why did we break up?”

He asks this time. The question now echoing in his voice.

“I don’t know really.” You answer, “We weren’t ready?”

Taehyung separates his back from the door frame, his legs taking him to the end of the bed where he sits next to you. “We were young?”

“And not ready.” You emphasize this time. “Right person, wrong time.”

“So are you going to let me know when it’s the right time?” Taehyung asks you, his voice quieter as he looks ahead. “Because who knows, maybe it’s still right person.” His eyes slide towards you, curiosity sitting in them.

You can’t help but quietly gasp to yourself, his curious eyes sharpening the more he gazes at you. You’ve been wondering all night. You’ve been wondering if there’s still something between you, especially because something electric has been bringing you closer the past few hours. But you didn’t know if it was your imagination.

Taehyung’s gaze drops down to your hand that rests against the mattress. His eyes trail up your bare arm and it feels as if his fingertips are grazing your skin.

“You think we’re still a good match?” You breathe out your words, your eyes falling to Taehyung’s bottom lip. “Or do your interests only lie in getting laid tonight?”

Taehyung’s eyes grow round, shocked at first before he chuckles, “Can it be both?”

You bite back another smile. “Maybe.”

It’s been five and half years since you and Taehyung called things off—well, since you called things off. In your eyes, it really was right person, wrong time. You aren’t sure if Taehyung agreed at that time because you didn’t really give him the chance to. That still stings a little. Probably more for him than you but seeing how lighthearted he’s been all night, you guess he’s over it.

Are you over it?

You kind of have to be.

“I remember you being a really good kisser.” Taehyung’s fingers crawl over to yours, his skin warm as he subtly touches you.

You bite down onto your bottom lip, another smile forming. “So this is about getting laid tonight.”

“Not at all. But maybe a part of it.” Taehyung taps his fingers before weaving them through yours. Then he pulls back. “But if you don’t want to do anything…”

“Who said that?” You find his dark eyes, “I might just be teasing you.”

“You’ve always loved teasing me.”

“Maybe I still do?”

“So, some things haven’t changed.” He teases back, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if some things were still the same. There’s some things I’m hoping are very different though.”

“Like what?” You can’t help but ask, your hand sliding closer to his again.

“One, I hope you stopped being such a picky eater. And two, you let me have an opinion about us.”

You feel that sting. It shouldn’t be you who feels it but you do. “Us?”

“Yeah.” He hums, his fingers suddenly between yours again. He leans closer to you, “I want to decide things too.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” Taehyung naturally grows closer to you, his body suddenly pushing up against your side when he leans down and presses his lips against your bare shoulder. “If I should be in your life or not.”

You slowly close your eyes when you feel his warm breath before he places a kiss on your shoulder. Then another. And another.

He continues, “Last time, you decided without me. This time I want a say.” Another kiss.

You feel your stomach turn upside down, his lips confusing you while his words make you feel guilty.

“Taehyung.” You say his name, your voice uncontrollably insecure. “Are we talking about this now?”

Another kiss. “No.”

You open your eyes, your back straightening when you feel his arm wrap around your waist. It feels good and familiar. Yet you aren’t sure how to react.

“Is it crazy to say I’ve missed you?” Taehyung sighs out, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “It is, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thought about you so much in these last few years.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

Your stomach flops again, but this time you feel intrigued. “What did you miss? Me? Or my lips? My mouth? My—”

“—Can’t I say everything?” Taehyung lifts himself, his eyes urging you to look at him. He stays close. “I missed your overthinking too, believe it or not.”

Your lips curl at the thought, his teasing working. “Oh yeah?”

“But I missed your hugs the most. When we hugged earlier…I swear I wanted to give you me right then and there.”

“Your vodka sodas make you chatty, don’t they?”

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, “You aren’t used to it, right?”

“Considering you didn’t drink when I knew you, no. But it was fun drinking with you tonight.”

“You got kind of chatty too.” Taehyung decides to create space between you both, his body suddenly laying back on the bed. “Never been in love with anyone else since me?” He sounds proud. “Feels like that should have taken longer to admit—”

You hit his thigh with your fist, embarrassment hot on your neck. “Shut up, I didn’t think it was a big deal. Also, it’s the truth and I can’t change it.”

You’re turned to eye him, but you quickly look away before laying down yourself. You keep your hands together, resting on top of your stomach.

“I’m not sure I’ve really been in love either. Maybe. Maybe not.” Taehyung tells you. “I’ve definitely thought about you over the years though.”

“Like what?”

“Your mouth—”

You hit his thigh again.

He laughs this time, “Okay, okay. Like for example, I saw someone eating skittles a few weeks ago and it reminded me of you. How you eat them all except the purple ones.”

“I still don’t eat the purple ones.”

“Great.” Taehyung huffs out dramatically, “You’re still picky.” He turns his head towards you and you do the same, meeting his eyes. Your stomach flops again when he smirks at you. “Somehow I missed that, too.”

“Liar,” You can’t help but laugh. “You—”

“We still click, you know?” Taehyung cuts you off, his gaze sharp again. “I’d like to hang out again. But not as friends or anything…as…I don’t know,” He turns his head, eyes on the ceiling while he smiles sheepishly. “I want to see if we can make this work. Possibly.”

“Vodka sodas make you so loose-lipped.”

“Thank God, too. I’m saying all the things I want to say so I’m thankful for it.”

“Well….” You turn your body towards him, lifting yourself on you elbow, “What else do you want to say?”

“You’re very pretty. And I want to kiss you.” Taehyung mirrors his body to yours. He looks confident as usual but you see the nerves in his eyes. “I’m not kissing anyone else at the moment, if you’re worried about that.”

“I wasn’t.” You weren’t.

Taehyung has never been known for being a player, or messing with more than one girl at a time. If he’s showing interest in you then you know you’re the only one.

“I’ve been single for like 8 months already.” He tells you, “So I’m clean, too.”

“I…yeah, it’s been a little while for me too.” You glance towards the open door, “But also, you sound real hopeful this is going to go in your favor.”

“Please.” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I know the way you’ve been looking at me all night. Catching up has been nice but there’s more going on here, right?”

He’s right.

“No.”

“Now you’re the liar,” Taehyung smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But like I said, we don’t have to do anything. But I still want to see you again.”

You’re both sat up on your elbows, the distance small between you before you decide to be brave.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask.

Taehyung blinks at you for a moment, his dark eyes surprised.

“Just a kiss.” You assure him, your lips curling into a smirk. “One kiss.”

Taehyung holds his breath, seconds that feel like minutes pass. A small laugh finally leaves his mouth and his eyes fall to the bed. “Why am I suddenly nervous?” He admits. “As if I forgot how to kiss.”

“You were so confident earlier?” You tease him but you were positive you saw the nerves in his eyes and you were right.

“I think the vodka sodas helped and they’ve worn off at this exact moment.”

“How convenient.”

“It really is, isn’t it?”

You stare at Taehyung, his eyes going from yours to the mattress every few seconds before the strap of your tank top slides off your shoulder and his eyes glue to that extra inch of skin. It was a hot summer night, and a white tank top with some shorts is all the night called for.

You didn’t think you would run into Taehyung at a bar neither of you have been to. A night out with a couple of friends that happily ditched you to catch up with your ex.

“Why did we break up for real, y/n?” Taehyung’s eyes are back on yours. “I know but sometimes I doubt and question it.”

“Still?”

“You expect me not to?” He laughs a little but his voice is now the one that sounds uncontrollably insecure. “I was in love with you for so many years of my life. You were my best friend…”

You feel a sharp poke in your heart.

“I know.” You decide to sit up, your body slumping over a little. “I’m sorry.”

And you are. You’ve wanted to apologize for years.

“I know you’ve been sorry since the day we broke up.” Taehyung sits up too, his side pushed up against yours. Suddenly space isn’t necessary. “Don’t feel bad. I just want to hear you confirm your reason.”

You glance at Taehyung, eyes studying him. “I got scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That I didn’t know myself yet. That it would have been better if we were older…more mature. I should have just talked to you. But I thought you’d agree. I just…” You stop, ripping your eyes away from him. “Wanted to make it easier for both of us at that time.”

“Okay.” Taehyung nods to himself. “It wasn’t because you stopped loving me?”

“No.” You don’t find the courage to look at him yet. “I still loved you.”

Taehyung bumps into your shoulder with his and you hear the lightness in his voice again. “We’re older? More mature? You think we could look at one another the way we did before?”

You straighten your back again. “You really want to try this again?”

“I really want to kiss you at the least.” He sounds teasing once more. “But yeah, I’d love to continue getting to know you and see where this might lead.”

“I offered to kiss you already but you chickened out.” You bump into his shoulder now.

“I know.” He laughs, “But turns out I did want to have the conversation now. Kind of want to kiss you even more now because of it.”

“Then kiss me now, if you want.”

You’re older now. More mature now.

Yet you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, towel still folded in your lap, eyes on the floor and nerves surrounding you both.

Taehyung’s breath leaves his mouth in a warm puff and you feel it glide over your bare thighs. His nerves make you brave. You grasp the towel in your hands before placing it next to you and you turn your head towards the man you used to love.

He mirrors you, eyes still unsure.

“You’re cute.” You murmur. “And—”

Taehyung leans in closer, his eyes stuck on your lips. “It’s okay, right?”

You nod.

The warm breath you felt on your thighs now lingers over your lips. It makes you stop breathing.

He comes closer, his hand softly landing on your lower back, fingers slowly digging into your tank top as he grows closer and finally, you feel the skin of his lips touch yours in a kiss that becomes firmer the longer he stays. His kiss is so familiar that it will haunt you later.

Taehyung detaches for only a moment, catching his breath before he leans in again more confidently and you finally give him a response. Your lips slowly moving over his as you kiss him back, your hands sliding up his chest. So familiar. His tongue pokes out and you open your mouth just the slightest to grant his wish. You taste him now, and it’s also hauntingly familiar.

You feel your lower belly swirling and swirling, a tension growing between your legs and it makes you ache. You wish a few kisses didn’t make you this desperate already but when Taehyung feels your fingers slide up into his hair, he knows you desire more.

His tongue explores more freely and you moan into his mouth, the sound quiet and soft but it creates a stirring in Taehyung’s pants. He can feel himself grow harder. So, he kisses you harder.

You break away for a moment, lips wet and tingly. “You have a condom?”

“Already?” He asks, breathless. “Let me at least eat you out first.”

“I haven’t showered yet.” Your eyes slide to the side, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“I don’t care.”

“I care.”

His hands go to your shorts, fingers fiddling with the button. “Fingers?”

You think about it for a second, thighs squeezing together at the idea. “Okay.”

And his fingers are quick to undo the button on your shorts, and he pulls down the zipper. You quickly wiggle out of them, kicking them off of you, while they land somewhere on the floor.

“Cute underwear.” He tickles the skin above the band with his fingers, before they slide lower and you gasp. He begins rubbing them over where you ache. Your panties grow damper and damper, making it easy for him to move your underwear to the side, and his fingers dive into your wetness.

“Ah, Taehyung…” You become tense. Teeth digging into your bottom lip. “I—”

His fingers swirl over your clit, making you sigh out in content. They play here before he uses his middle finger to dive where you really want him. Finger massaging your entrance, before he adds another. Entering you, making you immediately relax once the moment you’ve been anticipating is over. He works to stretch you out, his eyes focused on yours, his tongue wetting his lips as he watches how you start to fall into a daze.

His fingers feel so good. They’re long and reaching the right places. He curls them, making you whine, head falling to his shoulder and he chuckles.

“Feel good?” He whispers, fingers working harder and all you hear is how they fuck into you.

You nod against his shoulder, a breathy laugh leaving your lips.

“I want you…” You admit, “Now.”

His fingers stop moving, his head suddenly nodding quickly and he slides them out. “Yeah.”

Taehyung brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them proudly and you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. He wanted your familiar flavor. So, it can haunt him later too.

You stand, eyes on him as you take your tank top off. He stands too, helping you take off your bra and his eyes are glued to your chest, clouding over with lust. You reach for the bottom of his shirt and he helps you take it off his body. Shorts and boxers are next. You stare at his cock, the head of it throbbing and you feel your mouth water. Another time, you tell yourself.

You finally slip off your underwear and you stand here, gazing at one another and you both become dizzy.

“You’re so beautiful.” He tells you, hands reaching for your hips and he guides you to the bed again, laying you down. “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

“Me too.” You tell him, breathless and heated.

Taehyung crawls over your body and you feel how he moves his cock to enter you, moving slowly until he’s snug between your legs. You both sigh. Your walls tightening around him. He feels so good. And so familiar. He pushes himself further into you, your legs wrapping around his waist until you gasp to yourself, eyes shutting in contentment.

“You feel…” You can’t finish your sentence.

“Yeah.” He agrees, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. He repeats this motion a few, slow times. Letting his cock get soaked and pulled into your sweet core. He can’t remember the last time he felt this entranced. Maybe it was with you.

He starts fucking into you, the repeated motions are smooth and calculated. He’s trying his best to fuck you at the angle that is going to make you whimper. And he finally finds it. He moans into your neck, his hot breath making your skin moist. He starts kissing your throat.

You feel yourself growing tighter and tighter the more he firmly pushes in. You’re going to cum.

Taehyung starts thrusting faster, his kisses growing sloppy and he forces himself to slow down, his body trembling above yours. Oh, he’s really close.

“You’re so pretty…” He moans, his thrusts getting harder. “I fucking missed you, your pussy…everything.”

“Taehyung…” You wrap your arms around him, nails clawing at his back. “Fuck, just like that…I’ll cum.”

“Yeah. I know.” He smirks against your neck before he lifts his head and locks eyes with you. “Let’s cum together, y/n. Fuck,” His pace grows faster and you feel your insides crumble. He feels too good.

“I’m gonna—” You choke on air when he thrusts particularly hard, pushing into you so deep it makes your stomach tighten. He fucks you so deep you wonder how you could go without this any longer.

“y/n.” He chants your name, head falling into your neck again, whining against your skin and that’s all it takes for the band inside you to snap. You feel warmth gushing around his cock, dribbling out of you as you cum all around him and his hips thrust forward a few more times before he releases every drop of cum he can offer inside you.

Your body becomes limp, legs falling from his waist as you catch your breath, silently laughing as the euphoria continues to overtake you. Taehyung laughs too, breathing heavily above you, his eyes shining with happiness. You can’t miss it.

“We forgot the condom.” He tells you.

“I know.” You bite your lip, hiding another smile. You aren’t worried since you’re on birth control. “Maybe you can shower with me?”

He leans down to kiss you, smile all over his face. “Okay, and then I’m eating you out.”

#bts #bts smut #Kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #bts fics #taehyung fic #Drabble requests #taehyung x reader #taehyung drabble #bts drabble

777 notes · View notes

stanpinesdykewife · 6 months ago

Note

How do you feel about breeding kink ? Kinda a request for Stan/reader haha

HELLO thanks for sending this in! so i've never been a big breeder (breeding kink enjoyer) but you and several others are really into it so i finally gave it a shot!!! enjoy! and check out my friend's breeding kink fic at the bottom if you're into this :) under the cut:

knock knock stan/reader (fem!reader) (unless you're me and can ignore the gender implications of "mommy") pre/during/post-canon/unspecified smut, 1954 words (bonus: fic rec at the bottom)

It starts out like the normal, mostly-vanilla sex you usually have with Stan.

You two go out, get tipsy, come home, and make it through approximately half an episode of your joint show before slipping into a sloppy makeout. It's not exactly routine, but it's expected, and it's a hit for a reason. Sex with Stan is good, full stop. Which is why you’re always surprised when something new comes along that makes it even better.

“Hngh—Fuck,” you choke out, your voice catching behind your teeth as Stan sinks into you. You're on your back, staring with bleary eyes at the sight of Stan's flushed face above you. He's sitting on his heels with your ankles on his shoulders, his hands holding firmly at your plush hips as he grinds into you. “Fuck. God, please.”

“Told you you'd have to beg for it this time, didn't I?” Stan chuckles, stroking over your soft skin with his thumbs. He sounds gentle, but he's grinding into you hard, enough that each forward roll of his hips has your whole body rocking with it. He'd been fucking you so hard earlier, so good, but he does this thing sometimes—he stops altogether to get you talking. He loves when you talk to him. “Go on, then, sweetheart. You want it, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” you say, stuttering at another press of his dick into you. You gasp when he pulls back, drawing out only halfway before grinding in again. Your voice is wobbly when you say, “Yes, yeah. I want it, please fuck me, oh, fuck—I wanna come. Wanna make you come in me.”

You know, even through the haze in your mind and the growing blush on Stan's face, that that's a normal thing for you to say. It never gets old, and it's never untrue. Asking Stan to come in you always feels really fucking good. You're having a really good night.

“I know, baby. You want me to fill you up,” Stan says, full-on smiling down at you. His eyes are warm and a little unfocused as he draws out again, then pushes in, keeping that same romantic rhythm he's had since slowing down. His voice is low, almost drowsy, when he adds, “You want it to stay there, too? Want it to take?”

“Wh—Huh?” you ask, your mind a little preoccupied to register all the words coming out of his mouth. You're a little too busy staring at him, at his dark eyes, his crooked grin, then lower, to the hair on his chest leading down to his belly. Stan huffs out a good-natured laugh at your obvious spacing out.

“You always ask me to come inside.” When your gaze finally wanders back up to his, he's already staring at you. Stan chuckles again and adjusts his grip on your body, unintentionally hiking your hips up a little. He clarifies, “It's almost like you want me to knock you up.”

Your jaw drops open at that. A new wave of heat curls in your abdomen, making your fingers twitch, and your legs suddenly tense. Stan was half-joking, you know he was, but it's too late to pitch him a laugh and play into it. His brows raise, and you can practically see the gears turn in his head when you blink at him in mild shock.

Then the light bulb clicks on, and Stan's expression brightens in the way it always does when he learns something new about your body. Despite yourself, you smile, too, a flustered giggle bouncing from your throat when you realize he's about to pounce.

“W-Wait, I didn't—” You have no clue what excuse you were going to give to clear your name of a kink you didn't even know you had, but Stan interrupts you so you don't have to find out. You squeal when he suddenly grabs you by the thighs and adjusts your body, manhandling you into a new position. “Stan—!”

“You like that, huh,” he snickers, not unkind, as he shuffles himself up onto his knees without pulling out. One of your legs almost falls off his shoulders, but Stan quickly corrects it before snatching a pillow from your left and shoving it under your hips. He leans forward slightly, asking you again, “You want me to knock you up?”

Before you can answer, Stan gives you the first proper thrust he's given you in a while. Your back arches as you moan, your hips automatically rocking up into his as he starts a steady pace. Your hands grip the sheets, and you try to stave off the mild embarrassment in your chest. You try to welcome the excitement instead, growing warm in your stomach, making you tremble.

“That's right, honey. Feels good, don't it? Gonna put a baby in you.” The humor in Stan's voice fades slowly, overtaken by his little grunts as he fucks into you. You moan at one particular angle, Stan's dick pressing perfectly up against that spot in your pussy that makes your legs shake, and Stan chases it. He leans forward, over you, making your voice pitch higher and higher. He groans, “Fuck, so wet. You're all nice and warm for me, sugar. Perfect for my spunk.”

“Ugh, don't—ah—call it that,” you huff out, voice cracking in the middle as Stan picks up speed.

“Whaddya want me to call it?” he laughs. “My come? My kids?”

“Fuck,” you moan, like the breath's been punched out of you. Stan's hips stutter, and something in the air shifts. He groans, leans forward more, and soon your body is bent deeply at the waist with your legs hooked over his shoulders, your knees close to your chest. You don't know what this position is called. A breeding press? A mating press? The specifics are lost on you as you open your eyes, blinking up at Stan's handsome, flushed face.

He’s breathing deeply above you, his hot breath mingling with yours as he plants his hands on either side of you. Stan’s been teasing you all this time, but all of a sudden it doesn't feel so lighthearted anymore. Stan pauses when you meet his eyes. Shifts his weight on his knees.

“C-Can…” You swallow around the words. You're fucking salivating. You look at Stan shyly, through your lashes, and find the courage to ask, “Can you please put your kids in me?”

“Holy Moses,” Stan says, and then he's kissing you, all sloppy and heated and so fucking turned-on. You moan into his mouth when he starts pumping into you again, fucking his hips down into yours, and this angle is so fucking good you can't believe you've never tried it with him before, holy fuck. Stan is so deep inside you, pistoning his hips so hard he's fucking you right into the mattress with each thrust.

“Ah, ah, fuck, yes—” you gasp, breaking the kiss. Stan groans against your open mouth before pulling away, his eyes screwed shut as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he grunts, shifting so his forearms are caging your head, holding up his weight. “Gonna fucking fill you up, gonna make you have my fucking kids—Fuck, I'm already close.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you whine, voice strained as you reach up to grab hold of something, anything, to keep you grounded. You feel like you're floating, so warm and dizzy at the thought of Stan filling you to the brim, and your hands somehow find their way up into Stan's hair. He groans again when you tug, and gives you a particularly rough thrust that makes you gasp. “Ah, shit—! Yes, I want it, want you to come in me, fill me up—”

“Yeah, just take my fucking load, baby, just take it,” he breathes, somehow much more intelligible than you are even as his hips start fucking into you unevenly, losing their rhythm. But Stan's thrusts get harder, his dick reaching deeper into your ready cunt, so deep you swear you can feel his precome leaking into your cervix, or maybe the thought of it is just so good that you're making shit up. But you snap back to reality at Stan mutters, his voice gruff, “Gonna come so deep in you, sweetheart—Hah, fuck, that's—Gonna make you a fuckin' mommy.”

You're coming, an intense orgasm rolling through you and forcing one loud, drawn-out moan from deep in your throat as Stan fucks into you with a few more frantic thrusts. You're gasping, cursing when you can spare the breath, and then you're whining high in your throat as Stan presses as deep as he can fucking go. His voice catches for a moment. Then he groans, long and loud, right into your face as he comes deep in you. It's so hot, literally, you can feel the heat blooming in your fucking cunt, can feel the way his thick dick twitches with its release.

“Fuck—Fuck,” Stan swears, shifting again so he can slide one hand to your hip. He hikes it up and shuffles closer on his knees, sighing once his lungs have the capacity. You're still catching your breath, still dizzy with warmth and post-orgasmic bliss as you think of that pocket of come being plugged inside you by Stan's softening dick. Stan breathes deeply in, then out. He’s still riding the tail end of his orgasm when he murmurs, “You okay?”

“Mm. Yeah,” you manage, carefully unwinding your fingers from his hair. When Stan can lift his head to look at you, his face is red with exertion. There's some drool slipping out the corner of his mouth, and you try a smile. “You?”

“Yeah,” he says, but he sounds distracted. He studies your features, reading your expression, and whatever you managed of a half-smile drops.

“What?” you ask. But then Stan nudges his hips back, just an inch, and slowly presses into you again. Your breath hitches in your throat, your hands flying to his shoulders to grip him there. “What are you—Ah, ah, fuck.”

You feel exactly what he does. Stan's come is slick in you, it always is, but the new connotations add so much to the warm, wet pool within your body. Stan grinds into you, getting your thighs and his abdomen slick with your come, then pulls out again. When he pushes back in, you both moan at how fucking easy it is. There's no resistance. His come is sticking the way, making it easier for him to fuck you.

Stan is still breathing deep, but another smile plays on his lips. He’s close enough that he only has to tilt his head slightly to kiss you, but it's chaste nonetheless. His grin is bright and affectionate. But it isn't quite innocent.

“You wanna try for another?” he chuckles, his hand smoothing over your skin to dip between your bodies, to press gently, reverently against your stomach. You jolt at the touch, but eventually your hips start rocking into him. Stan doesn't move. You're intoxicated by the thought of him keeping you like this, pinned beneath him, full of his come and plugged by his dick as he brings you to the edge with his fingers.

“Ah, shit—Fuck. Yeah,” you say, the corners of your mouth rising up to match Stan's grin. You play along easier this time. “Yeah. Please. As many times as it takes, right?”

“Gotta knock you up somehow,” Stan says, keeping eye contact with you, his voice oozing with affection. You chuckle at him. What a softie. Then his fingers press a little harder on your stomach, then dip lower, lower, to really touch you, and your mouth drops into a moan instead. “Gonna be such a good mommy.”

You're having a great night.

(inspo from Family Planning by burberryali, which dropped super recently and helped a lot while i learned to write this!!! if you like breeding and fluff and stan in general... which i know you do... this fic is for you! show it some love!!)

#first smut i wrote in a while that i'm happy with!#thanks so much for reading teehee #as someone without a breeding kink i hope this is good #please lmk what you think...#and leave a comment on burberryali's fic!!!#smut #drabble requests #my writing #fic recs #gravity falls #stanley pines x reader #reader insert

194 notes · View notes

eliteseven · 2 months ago

Text

BG3 Drabble Request: Drunk Tav

Pairing: Shadowheart x (named)F!Tav

Summary: After drinking with (and defeating) Thisobald Thorm, an inebriated Tav returns to camp and shares a few intimate moments with Shadowheart as she cares for her.

Tags: Romance, fluff, humor, angst

Words: 4.7k

Original request below:

For NLS, I've always been impressed with Tav being able to hold her alcohol when drinking with Thisobald (If you pass the checks) but what If she got him but got absolutely smashed in the process then started to have a fun and honest conversation with Shadowheart or your take on a very drunk Tav around Last Light Inn; just something that occurs to me every time I go through this part of the game. Thanks ?

:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

“Easy, soldier.” Karlach gently lets Tav down from where she’s supporting her shoulder, allowing her to walk on her own fully.

They’ve just made it back to camp after a run in with none other than Thisobald Thorm, in the depths of the Waning Moon brewery.

In fairness, Serena held her own.

Really.

She’s no stranger to drinking, and while imbibing is certainly part of any seasoned soldier’s skillset, that foul liquid has finally taken effect, with considerable delay.

Drinking an undead entity to death is certainly a new victory that she can add to her ever growing list of oddities masked as accomplishments.

It kicked in about two thirds of the walk to camp, to be exact, when Serena began to sway with each and every step forward.

Karlach, bless her, noticed immediately- it was hard not to, when Serena nearly walked right into her chest while trying to keep their line single file.

“M’fine.” Serena hums happily as she claps her hands together rather slowly, and then pats Karlach on the back several times, for her efforts. “Thankyou, Karlach.” She slurs slightly, and covers her mouth before she hiccups.

Karlach grins. “Any time. Looks like it’s just getting to the good part.” She advises. “Any grand plans for the evening, Tav?”

Serena looks deep in thought for a moment, and Karlach smirks, wondering just what her response will be.

After a passing minute, Karlach realizes that there won’t be a response- Serena’s already dazed out, in the direction of a purple and black tent, with gold embroidery.

Karlach’s smirk only deepens. “....I have a feeling I already know.”

“Yes, let Shadowheart deal with her nonsense.” Astarion sniffs from behind them as he does away with his armor.

“Heart.” Serena smiles at the name, murmuring it to herself as she sets off mindlessly towards the tent, forgetting entirely about Karlach, Astarion, Thisobald Thorm, foul liquor, and most anything else.

“Should we stop her?” Wyll muses from somewhere behind Serena, slowly taking off his armor piece by piece, as well.

“...nah.” Karlach shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Serena falls into Shadowheart’s tent.

She doesn’t intend to- it’s really more of a stumble, anyway, but she ends up going right through the flaps and very luckily- into Shadowheart’s lap.

“What in the nine hells do you think you’re- Tav?” Shadowheart blinks as she freezes, prayers interrupted, knelt in the middle of her tent, and now supporting the weight of her…person.

(She and Serena haven’t exactly solidified their relationship, Lady Shar wouldn’t approve, but it’s no secret the two are entirely enamored with each other).

“Hello, Heart.” Serena mumbles the words rather gracelessly, but incredibly fondly, and she gathers herself with less elegance than she normally would as she takes her weight off her.

“And just where have you been?” Shadowheart lifts a manicured brow to accent the inquiry. “You…what’s that smell?”

“Beer…arguably. And innards...” Serena informs her, tilting her head in a curious fashion, similar to the way Scratch does. The slow flutter of her lashes as she takes in Shadowheart’s face in the candlelight says it all: Serena is inebriated.

And not with any old beer, by the looks of it.

“...Should I even ask how? Or why, for that matter?” Shadowheart pinches the bridge of her nose as Serena studies her lips intently, her question nearly forgotten.

“Thiso-”, hiccup, “-bald Thorm. Then he perished.” Serena adds with a frown. “...All over me.” She pouts, as if it’s simply a minor inconvenience, and she isn’t wearing his remains.

Shadowheart just blinks.

After all, why would she expect anything even resembling normalcy, with this group?

“...Naturally.” Shadowheart mumbles finally, taking in Serena’s state. “You need to bathe, Tav.”

“...Naturally.” Serena mocks, slowly turning the word over a clumsy tongue, and Shadowheart doesn’t know why, but it’s curious, seeing her so…helpless. Everything seems to amuse her, and she bears none of the usual anxiety she normally does in such close proximity to Shadowheart.

“Do the others know you’re…” Shadowheart waves her hand, narrowing her eyes. Someone had to have brought her back to camp; she hardly looks capable of navigating in her state.

“Yes! …Karlach carried me.” Serena grins. “So warm.” her head lolls backwards as she stares at the dark peak of the tent, mind clearly drifting elsewhere.

“I can imagine.” Shadowheart snorts. “I’ve feigned an injury or two for a ride on those shoulders.”

“And I pretend to have injuries so you’ll touch me.” Serena admits with a snort of laughter; she finds this endlessly amusing once more, and she giggles softly.

“Oh.”

Shadowheart freezes; she’s unsure which to address first- Serena’s egregious statement about feigning injury for more of her touch (egregious only because she and Shadowheart have been sharing a bedroll more often than not), or the fact that Serena’s giggle is so sweet and innocent, and she’s never heard it before.

Serena is clearly a happy drunk, and Shadowheart finds the corner of her lip twitching upwards anyway, despite the state she finds her lover in.

Serena looks younger, somehow, smiling to herself in the darkness. The furrow lines on her brow are not present, nor the lines that set in when she scowls from the near constant stress of shouldering the group’s various strifes.

She looks positively unbothered by her own admission, though Shadowheart just knows she’ll be mortified if she remembers any of this tomorrow.

“And you came to me?” Shadowheart murmurs, this time, there is less edge to her tone.

“Well…you didn’t accompany us today.” Serena frowns. “You haven’t, lately. It’s awful. Gale doesn’t look nearly as pretty in armor.” It sounds like a cute quip, but Serena’s gaze belies the fact that she’s being deadly serious.

Shadowheart snorts out a laugh, caught off-guard. Her cheeks burn with a blush that Tav cannot see, and she’s all the happier for it. “Is that all you get from my company?” Her tone is airy, teasing and light.

Serena frowns at the statement. She opens her mouth to protest vehemently, but hiccups again, sighing deeply.

“...Charming.” Shadowheart deadpans.

“You never come anymore.” Serena sighs, rubbing her temples as if she’s dealing with a matter of life and death.

“My lady demands that I focus my efforts on-”

“-Ah, yes, your lady…” Serena drawls, and it’s abundantly clear she’s mocking Shadowheart.

Shadowheart scowls at the obvious show of heresy and disrespect. Serena usually has more tact, when referring to Lady Shar in any capacity in front of Shadowheart.

“Watch yourself.” Shadowheart grits. “Just because we’ve built a rapport, it doesn’t mean I’ll take lightly to your transgressions.”

Serena blinks, and Shadowheart realizes she’s not at all present. Shadowheart sighs; it isn’t worth the fight- not when Serena hasn’t an inkling of what she’s saying. She should know better than to argue with someone so clearly intoxicated.

“I’ve missed you, that's all.” Serena mumbles, more in the way of a dejected child than a lover scorned, and Shadowheart’s lip trembles slightly at the honest admission.

She’s missed Tav, too.

She can’t succumb to her feelings- she can’t let Serena crumble walls she’s put up for the better part of her training.

So Shadowheart does what she does best, and deflects Serena’s attention away from any hope of having a truly intimate conversation.

“And here I thought soldiers could drink with the best of us.” Shadowheart remarks dryly instead, despite how her heart still pounds at Serena’s admission.

Serena shrugs helplessly. “I think…” She drawls, licking her lips. “I think…I drank poison.” She tastes the words on her tongue, shaking her head. “It glowed.” she smiles at the word, remembering the way the residue would shine off the side of the tankard.

“...just what we needed.” Shadowheart mutters, and she swears, she’ll have words with whoever allowed Serena to undergo such an idiotic series of events. They need her at her best, not slurring over every word and laughing at nothing at all. “Now, go and bathe.” She demands, thrusting a spare cloth and towel into Serena’s hands from her storage trunk.

“...It’s cold.” Serena whimpers, and Shadowheart is inclined to agree; it’s freezing, and the state of the Shadow-Cursed Lands does little to help the fact, devoid of light and wrapped in a never-ending blanket of night as it is.

“You’ve Thorm-innards on you.” Shadowheart points out, lip curling in disgust.

Serena laughs, a pretty, melodic sound that has Shadowheart reeling for a few seconds afterwards.

Shadowheart’s eyes narrow and she rests a hand on her hip. “You find this funny?”

Serena only laughs harder, dabbing at a tear forming in the corner of her eye, swaying slightly in her laughter. “Yes!” She heaves. “I even wore my best oils for you, this morning.” She throws her hands up at the hilarity of it all- but in truth, she chooses everything based on Shadowheart’s reactions. “And now…” She looks at the mess upon her armor and sighs, letting out a few errant laughs, still. “Blood. As usual. It’s always blood.”

Shadowheart has often secretly admired Serena’s meticulous attention to her appearance.

Her clothing (what she can scrummage from their travels, at any rate), her hair, down to which scented oil she uses after bathing- (Shadowheart prefers the jasmine scented vial, she’s noticed).

She tries, despite the mess they find themselves in the middle of, to impress Shadowheart.

Shadowheart doesn’t know whether it’s sweet or foolish, but she finds her heart tripping over itself at the gesture alone.

She wonders if she was ever the object of someone’s affections like this- let alone someone so sweet. If she was, she certainly can’t remember them now.

“...Perhaps I can help you clean up.” Shadowheart murmurs gently. She glances at Serena’s elated gaze, and shakes her head. “-after all, I wouldn’t want you to drown.”

:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

They find themselves in a secluded corner of camp, where the sandy banks meet the surrounding lake, and its placid sheet of darkness. There are no stars in the evening sky- the moon does not grace them with its glassy reflection above the still water.

Shadowheart wonders why the darkness does not calm her as it should- Shar gives her a painful lashing for the thought, and she quickly drops it.

She should be at home here in the constant night, comfortable in the depths of the murky black water.

Shadowheart seats herself atop a rock, a safe distance away from the water. She much prefers bathing beneath the waterfall, on solid land. The shore steeply declines after several steps, and her fear of swimming prevents her from taking that risk.

Serena, however, doesn’t seem to mind as she strips away the last of her tainted clothes, shivering in the relative darkness.

About mid-way through removing her tunic, she pauses, glancing at Shadowheart bashfully, as if suddenly remembering her presence.

“...Go on, then.” Shadowheart nudges her with a few soft words.

Still, her breath catches in her throat when her eyes fall upon Serena’s bare and muscled back, bearing several scars from her time in Cormyr’s military. Shadowheart’s eyes drop to a shapely rear as Serena nearly trips over herself trying to take off her trousers and remaining undergarments.

Shadowheart has to give her credit; she hadn’t realized how poised Serena typically is. She carries herself with all the regality one might come to expect from a former Patriar, but with none of the entitlement, stripped away from her time at war.

Drunk Serena carries none of these qualities; Shadowheart doesn’t know why, but she finds it strangely endearing.

“You’re staring.” Serena slurs slightly.

Shadowheart lifts a brow. So she still has some of her wits about her.

“You’re shivering.” Shadowheart counters.

"...do you like what you-"

“Yes." Shadowheart pinches the bridge of her nose, hoping it will finally spur her into action. "Now, please, get in the water before you fall ill and I have to tend to that, as well."

Serena obliges, stepping into the water and gasping as she lowers her body beneath the surface.

Shadowheart watches with a keen eye; if Serena disappears beneath the surface, they both might meet the end of their journey prematurely.

She realizes now that she might not have been the wisest option to watch over Serena in this state, in a body of water no less.

But Serena trusts her implicitly; she came directly to her, despite being at odds with Shadowheart about her faith. Serena, who has carried her from the heat of battle with a goblin’s arrow protruding from her back. Serena, who brings her night orchids in the cover of darkness because Shadowheart refuses to entertain her affections in front of the others, despite how obvious it’s become to everyone near.

Serena is alone, just as Shadowheart is alone; her closest kin is her mother, way off in the kingdom of Cormyr. Shadowheart has the cloister to return to, eventually. Serena will find herself alone still in Baldur’s Gate, should they ever make it to their final destination.

Shadowheart tries to swallow the feeling down; Serena is temporary.

Lady Shar is permanent.

“Here.” Shadowheart beckons her forth, tilting her head curiously at the way Serena covers her chest with her folded arms, shivering still. “I’ve already seen you, Tav.” She snorts in amusement.

Yes, she and Serena have never had sex, but their shared intimacy is nothing to scoff at. They’ve bathed together, healed and tended to each other, and have pressed gentle kisses to bare skin. They’ve slept together- in the truest sense of the word, waking in each other’s arms.

“Oh.” Serena seems to remember these moments, and a wicked blush sets in on her cheeks. “Right.” She drops her hands awkwardly to her sides, and Shadowheart’s breath catches in her throat at the sight of her bare chest, stiff from the icy water.

Just because she’s seen the soldier and felt her every now and again, it doesn’t mean she can ever grow accustomed to how breathtaking she is.

“Uh-uh.” Shadowheart slaps her hand away as she reaches for the soap. “You want this done quickly? Allow me.”

Serena drops her hands almost at an almost comical speed, and Shadowheart cannot hold back her soft laughter.

Serena’s eyes go wide at the sound, and she smiles, rather stupidly, but Shadowheart’s chest flutters violently all the same. She comes to stand in between Shadowheart’s dangling legs as Shadowheart’s fingers run through her hair, scratching softly at her scalp.

Serena’s eyes close, and when a sound akin to a purr is drawn from her lips, Shadowheart is relieved that she cannot see her smile, wide as it is. Serena’s fingertips slowly come up to rest on Shadowheart’s thighs, and before Shadowheart can berate her for her wet touch, she realizes Serena is attempting to steady her.

It’s all the more endearing when Shadowheart realizes that she is the one swaying, but she reaches for Shadowheart, hoping to calm her by the water’s edge, so aware of her fear of swimming.

A grin finds its way to Shadowheart’s lips, and she shakes her head at the sorry sight before her.

“This…” Serena slurs, never opening her eyes. “...is nice.” She whispers gently, and Shadowheart sighs, wondering for just a moment what a shared domestic life might look like, between them.

Shared baths, shared bedrolls- no, a bed- making meals together, reading awful novels aloud together, taking long walks in lands that are not cursed by the shadows.

She hisses as burning hot pain shoots along her arm, and she recoils sharply.

Serena’s eyes open, and even in her slow and addled state, a frown begins to bloom on full lips as her eyes find Shadowheart’s wound, flaring with purple light.

Shadowheart glances away, fumbling instead for a cloth to busy her aching hand.

Serena manages to finish bathing without sinking to the depths of the lake.

:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

“-and you let her?” Shadowheart folds her arms as she eyes Astarion, waiting outside her own tent as Serena uses it to change into her camp clothing, now bathed and still disoriented.

“Well, it was either drinking or stabbing.” Astarion shrugs. “Seemed simple enough, really.”

“-Stabbing.” Lae’zel chimes in from across camp, where she sharpens her sword and smirks proudly at her noise pollution.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Lae’zel is right.” Shadowheart snaps. “That would have been the correct decision.”

“According to whom?” Astarion snorts, affronted. “We managed to kill the…ah…fellow…all by his own concoction.” Astarion sniffs. “...Which smelled foul, by the way.”

“I’m aware.” Shadowheart retorts.

“And she volunteered-”

“She always does!” Shadowheart’s eyes narrow. “It’s Tav, she has no sense of self preservation-”

“-Well then perhaps you ought to ask your dear Lady for permission to come, next time.” Astarion quips. “Might be more useful than all those prayers.”

“You know nothing of faith, Astarion-”

“Shhhh.” Serena emerges slowly from Shadowheart’s tent- hair wet, not a speck of dust or dirt on her, in her fresh camp clothing. “My head….” She groans.

“How are you faring, Tav?” Wyll asks from his tent, staying clear of Shadowheart’s blazing path of destruction.

Serena’s eyes narrow, and she thinks for a moment, blinking slowly. “If…the inn is right there…” Serena points to the silhouette of the Last Light Inn in the distant fog. “Why…do we sleep…here?” She waves around.

Wyll opens his mouth to respond, but Karlach barks out a laugh that draws their attention. “…she’s not wrong.” Karlach points out mildly. “Might’ve taken her a tenday to get the sentence out, though. Whatever you drank, soldier, it did something to you.”

Serena’s stomach grumbles loudly and she stares at it in clear offense.

“We’ll finish this later.” Shadowheart snaps in Astarion’s general direction, though he’s already retired into his tent for the evening.

“I await your return with bated breath.” Astarion retorts lazily.

“You.” Shadowheart turns to Serena, hands on her hips. “You need to eat.”

“I do?” Serena looks bewildered, and Shadowheart sighs, taking her hand and tugging her along towards the campfire, where Gale is hard at work preparing supper.

:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

“...Won’t you eat?”

“Tav, I told you, I’ve already eaten.” Shadowheart lets out a puff of laughter in quiet exasperation. It’s the third time she’s offered since sitting atop the log they occupy, a stone’s throw from the others and far enough away that Shadowheart cannot chew them out for allowing Serena to end up in such a state.

“Oh.” Serena glances at the bowl of stew as if it offends her. “ s’not very good.” She finally mumbles.

Shadowheart notes how candid Serena is when she’s drunk; she had no idea how often Serena bites her tongue.

“Accustomed to grand feasts in your grand dining hall?” Shadowheart teases gently.

“…yes.” Serena shrugs casually, completely missing the dig.

“I’ll be sure to extend your sincere thanks to Gale.” Shadowheart deadpans. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous.”

“Whatever for?” Shadowheart scoffs. “…truly, it can’t be anything worse than what you’ve endured today.”

“For...whatever comes next.” Serena admits with a simple shrug, sighing deeply as she slides off the log and slumps against it instead, head resting by Shadowheart’s knees.

It’s a simple statement- and almost doesn’t seem at all profound, until Shadowheart realizes the anxiety brewing in Serena’s chest is real. It is the same anxiety that finds her in her hours of sobriety, without a drop of liquor in her, Thorm-brewed or otherwise.

It is the same pervasive anxiety that threatens to taint and darken all of Shadowheart’s thoughts- what will become of them?

How much more can they endure, suspended in uncertainty as they are?

Serena does not often give voice to her concerns- she buries them deep within herself. She knows the group looks to her to be the voice of reason and logic- for reasons unknown to her entirely.

Shadowheart knows this burden of isolation; at least she has her goddess.

Serena has sworn herself to no deity; she faces her thoughts alone.

“Why don’t we discuss something else?” Shadowheart murmurs instead, resting a gentle hand on Serena’s shoulder.

“Hmm…” Serena rests her head backwards against the log as she sighs, and Shadowheart eyes the scar on her lip intently. Perhaps, had she known her then, when this wound was first inflicted, she could have prevented such scarring with a healing touch…

…Though she’s not at all opposed to the slightly rugged look it gives her.

“...Are you excited? To be going home?” Serena muses aloud.

“The cloister, you mean?” Shadowheart asks with a furrowed brow.

It’s strange to think of the cloister as home. Shadowheart can hardly remember most of her time there, save for her training.

“Mmm.” Serena’s confirmation is more of a hum, than anything else.

“I am…eager to serve my Lady.” Shadowheart answers quietly. “In any way she requires of me.”

“...don’t wish to hear of your Lady.” Serena snorts.

Shadowheart scowls. “Well then you should-”

“-you, Heart.” Serena prods, and her voice is so tired, so innocent, that Shadowheart’s ire melts away at the sound. “...I want…to hear more about you.”

Shadowheart sighs, and Serena’s request aches deep within her very soul. “I’ve told you all I can remember.” she reiterates.

This is hardly the first time Serena has taken a vested interest in learning more about her; she takes in every detail with an amount of care that’s difficult to fathom.

Shadowheart knows the wisdom of Lady Shar, now- one long gaze into those amber eyes, and she would tell Serena everything, if she could.

Her Lady protects her, even now.

“...Fine.” Serena shrugs and drawls. “...what about…something you don’t remember, then?”

Shadowheart rolls her eyes at her logic, but smiles slightly all the same. She’s particularly fond of this idiot, for some reason.

“I…don’t know anything else about myself.” Shadowheart answers softly. “It is Lady Shar’s will that I keep the cloister’s secrets safe, this way.”

“I can tell you everything about yourself.” Serena assures her, drawing the words out lazily. It’s funny to hear her usually posh patriar accent stretched thin across her own words. She seems assured, confident in her knowledge of all things Shadowheart. It’s more endearing than it is haughty, and Shadowheart takes the bait.

“Oh, can you?” Shadowheart lifts a brow in curiosity.

This, she has to hear.

“Your favorite color is green-”

“It’s black.” Shadowheart scoffs. “Like the night. If you’re going to be a bold drunk, be an accurate one.”

“...if you insist.” Serena slurs and laughs at her, the nerve of her. She doesn’t believe a word out of Shadowheart’s mouth.

“Is that it, then?”

“You love…plants.”

“Riveting.”

“-And you’re upset because Karlach broke your watering vases.”

“This only proves that you have eyes.” Shadowheart points out dryly. “And thank you for reminding me.”

“You enjoy reading…romantic lit..” another hiccup, “...literature.”

Shadowheart’s cheeks burn. “As does Wyll. It’s called having taste.”

“...You like animals…”

“I tolerate them.” Shadowheart rolls her eyes.

“With kisses.” Serena grins to herself. Like you to-” hiccup “-lerate me.”

Shadowheart isn’t certain whether to feel insulted or endeared. She settles on the former, though the latter seems to bleed through her tone, anyway. “...Yes, exactly like that.” she scoffs.

“and…and...you’resokind…” Serena smiles as she slurs the words together. “...even though you pretend to be cross. Often. ”

“I’m not pretending.” Shadowheart scowls once more, though Serena’s words seem to twinkle in her conscience like a bright, guiding star, illuminating the surrounding darkness.

“That scowl.” Serena whispers, glancing up at her in awe, favorably smiling at the lines forming between the crease in her brow.

Gods, the way she looks at Shadowheart, even now.

“These aren’t…are you quite finished?” Shadowheart puts a stop to her before Serena’s words can unravel her any more than they already have.

Serena is disarming; it’s so easy to think of her as a friend…as more than a friend…

Lady Shar reminds Shadowheart that she hasn’t the vacancy in her heart for such trifles, with a blunt shock to the hand, causing Shadowheart to seize up in pain.

This time, Serena sits on her knees, frowning as she reaches for Shadowheart’s hand. Shadowheart does not recoil this time; she can hardly find the strength.

Whatever set Lady Shar off, it has her livid, apparently.

“...You’re always in pain.” Serena remarks softly at first, and before Shadowheart can retort, she realizes it’s just another one of the facts about herself that Serena is reciting to her.

“Pain makes us stronger.” Shadowheart recites on pure instinct, through gritted teeth.

“...Then...What does love do?” Serena asks, eyes wide, head tilted curiously like damn Scratch and Shadowheart feels her chest heave violently at the sight.

You tell me.

“It’ll pass.” Shadowheart waves her off- her skin is hot where Serena holds her hand, absently rubbing a thumb over her wound, soothing away shocks of pain with a gentle touch.

Shadowheart isn’t even certain Serena knows what she’s doing, herself- it is her instinct to hold Shadowheart, to comfort her.

It always works, even now.

The pain in Shadowheart’s arm slowly recedes to just her hand, and eventually, nothing at all. Serena utters not a single word during this process, and Shadowheart realizes, with a sinking feeling in her chest, that Serena would take her pain and endure it herself, had she the opportunity.

Love.

The word rattles around Shadowheart’s mind, and terrifies her further- her lungs constrict, her heart thumps against her ribcage, all in vain as it attempts to leap out of her chest and embrace Serena.

Serena remains with her, close, on her knees holding Shadowheart’s hand, wordlessly.

If, eventually, she grows tired and comes to rest her head atop Shadowheart’s lap, Shadowheart does not protest at all.

Shadowheart cards her fingers absently through her lover’s loose waves, increasingly guilty with each touch and yet- unable to pull away.

Serena’s eyes close, and Shadowheart never ceases her soothing touch, gazing upon Serena’s tired form, entirely at her mercy.

Her mercy.

Serena came to camp and fell at her feet, knowing even in the sorry state she was in, that Shadowheart would be there to put her back together.

Their bond is undeniable; Serena is her closest confidant, her friend, her lover.

It cannot be, not when she’s come so close to fulfilling her Lady’s vision for her.

But Shadowheart cannot deny her heart any longer; the aches and pains of pretending she is fine, when in truth, she is terrified, have caught up with her.

Shadowheart allows herself a moment of weakness, as she watches Serena slowly nod off, ever warm and safe with her head in Shadowheart’s lap.

If she hears her now, at the very least, she certainly won’t remember, come tomorrow.

And so Shadowheart indulges.

Just this once.

“...I know one fact about myself.” Shadowheart murmurs, drawing her fingers through long, dark strands of hair that smell delightfully of jasmine oil and soap. “I…think I’ve fallen in love.” Shadowheart whispers, and the tears that form in the corner of her eyes slowly slip down one by one, leaving a wet trail upon her cheek. “And it’s going to hurt terribly when I have to leave you behind.” she admits, her very being uneasy at such an admission.

Serena does not stir; she smiles peacefully in her slumber atop Shadowheart’s lap.

Shadowheart tries not to memorize the sight that makes her heart quiver with such affection; it will be easier to forget her, this way.

:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

The following morning brings a sense of tranquility to camp.

Morning is perhaps too generous a word for the time; there is no daylight to denote such a change, anyway.

Shadowheart half expects to find Serena still mostly unconscious in her tent; to her surprise, she hears Serena’s voice along with the others before she can even step out of her tent.

Serena sounds well enough; her voice has returned to its normal cadence, and she laughs aloud at something Wyll has told her, echoing across camp.

Warmth blossoms in Shadowheart’s chest at the sound; the warmth is rapidly replaced by an icy feeling instead, when she remembers her plight.

She’d led Serena to her tent, left her with a kiss pressed to her forehead- carefully out of sight of the others, of course, and settled back into her own tent to repent.

Her night was a litany of prayers in the name of Lady Shar- asking her forgiveness, her acceptance, swearing to write Tav off the very moment she is able.

She is to be a Dark Justiciar.

Serena is temporary; Serena is an obstacle.

Shadowheart exits her tent with renewed vigor; she will not so much as glance in her direction. She will finally find the courage to properly honor Lady Shar. With last night’s confession, perhaps she can finally begin to correct her course.

In some way, telling Serena without telling her has done more for Shadowheart than she’d thought possible. Perhaps that was all it was- merely an urge to say something so taboo, so unfathomable, to clear it from her system once and for all.

Shadowheart does not give Serena, nor anyone else, anything beyond a curt smile and nod as she stretches in front of her tent, facing the day for the first time.

It’s a fairly normal morning; Wyll and Serena keep Gale’s company as he prepares breakfast, Karlach and Lae’zel gather more wood for the fire.

Serena glances longingly at Shadowheart, as she tends to do, and Shadowheart quickly looks away after a brief nod, hoping she doesn’t look as harrowed as she feels.

She has to start distancing herself now.

It will be easier to forget her this way.

As Shadowheart averts her gaze, she finds a new vase, filled with water, resting by one of the potted plants beside her tent.

Her heart catches in her throat.

#drabble #nls series #oc: serena tavyndír #shadowheart #shadowheart x tav #nobleheart #drabble requests #queue

65 notes · View notes

hederasgarden · 4 months ago

Note

Love the writing challenge! How about Colt Seavers does the fake dating trope with an old childhood friend of his which turns into forced proximity of having to share a bed, and while he's hype about it because he always had a crush on reader, she's panicking because she's always had a crush on him?

This is such a fun prompt. I had a lot of fun writing this!

Pairing: Colt Seavers x F!Reader Word Count: 367 Warnings: None, this is pure fluff. A/N: Thank you to @ryebecca for looking this over! Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Ryan Gosling Character Masterlist

“Oh wow, one bed,” Colt says with a raised brow.

“Are you sure?” You ask, brushing past him into the hotel room, scanning the space like another bed will somehow magically materialize and save you from what was shaping up to be your own version of personal hell. How were you supposed to keep your feelings for him under wraps when you were about to share what looked like the world’s smallest double bed?

“Well, they think we’re dating,” he says, his hands on his hips as he stares at the lone bed with a funny expression on his face. “We can share. It’ll be like old times.”

“When we were five?” You question.

“Are you still an aggressive snuggler?” He asks with a grin. “Just wanna know what I’m working with.”

“I’ll make a pillow divider,” you promise, embarrassed.

Even though the thought of waking up pressed against Colt, your legs tangled together, faces inches apart, is more than tempting, you absolutely could not let that happen. It was a recipe for disaster and heartbreak. Colt didn’t see you as anything more than a friend and he was already doing you a favor by coming with you and pretending to be your boyfriend for this wedding.

“Oh, okay,” Colt says, shoving his hands in his jean jacket. “Cool, cool, cool. Good idea. Thinking ahead.”

“Yup,” you agree cheerfully before falling into silence. It feels awkward and heavy. You look at Colt out of the corner of your eye, surprised to find he’s already watching you but he’s quick to turn away and clear his throat.

“So, uh, we should change and get ready for the rehearsal dinner probably.”

You give a quiet hum of agreement, reaching for your bag, but Colt’s quicker, grabbing it and setting it down on the bed with a grunt. It’s heavy and for a second, you worry about his back. But before you can say anything, he’s already in the hallway, dragging his own duffel bag behind him.

“I’ll need a few minutes to do my hair but otherwise the bathroom is all yours,” he informs you, rummaging through his duffel to pull out a ziplock bag full of toiletries. “I know it looks effortless,” he continues, gesturing to his messy locks, “but it takes a surprising amount of product to get it there. Styling putty and hair dryer mostly. Some hairspray…” he trails off and rubs the back of his neck.

“This takes a lot of work too,” you joke, tapping your fingers on your face. You expect him to laugh, but instead, he frowns, his brow furrowing.

“You’ve never needed all that,” he says. “You’ve always been beautiful.”

Send me a request

#colt seavers x reader #colt seavers x you #colt seavers #the fall guy #drabble requests

54 notes · View notes

violetmuses · 6 months ago

Text

Roman Reigns + Female Reader 🖤

Fandom: WWE

Character: Roman Reigns

@episodes-ff @persethegawd @trippinsorrows @blackgurlnhermoods @expert-texpert 🏷

====

2023

“Ooh, somebody's in trouble!” Jey laughed in the tunnel as Roman paced back and forth, outright screwed.

Flirty comments taking place during the broadcast noted your attention right away.

Standing across the hallway, you folded both arms, quietly pissed.

“I'm sorry, baby. Okay?” His strong voice nearly trembled upon sight. You looked so pretty desperate facing anger.

“See you later.” Your voice bid farewell, yet Roman trailed footsteps like a lost puppy regardless.

Before leaving this venue, his damp yet gentle lips meet your touch as you kiss in the parking lot, forgiving each other.

#requested!#fanfiction #au #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns #🥰🥰🥰#slight angst #wwe #my writing #violetmuses #💜💜💜#drabble requests #slightly suggestive #big dog #head of the table #tribal chief

57 notes · View notes

surdino · 2 days ago

Note

prompt 10 for thiam?? 😊🫶

Send me drabble requests here!

This turned into a fic... So... Check it out on ao3!

---

Liam is shaking like a leaf when Theo finds him outside some club he frequents, curled in on himself. He hides his face in his hands at hearing Theo's approaching footsteps.

It's embarrassing. All of this is so embarrassing he could just die. Would just die, if that's something that's on the table for him. But his life doesn't revolve around getting fucked just to feel the touch of another human being. It revolves around saving the town and pretending he's fine, all the while pretending he doesn't notice his friends slowly backing away from him.

He's a ticking timebomb. It's all he's ever been. It's all he ever will be.

That's why he goes to the clubs. Because ever since Hayden decided girls were more her thing (not her fault) and Mason started slobbering all over Corey (not his fault), he's got no one to be Liam with. No one to talk to, no one to be held by.

Hence the fucking. The random guys and girls he doesn't remember, not after the morning comes.

Not that he can ever truly be himself with those hookups. He's someone, someone they need, someone they want. But it couldn't be further away from who Liam really is.

They don't know him. They don't know what he does. They're just a means to an end. Someone to keep him company so he doesn't crumble under the pressure of being what he is. Whatever that is.

Except things never seem to go right with him. Because one moment his soul is being fueled by the hands of some guy slipping under his shirt, his nails dragging over his abs as they dance together, and the next he's being pulled out by security, being a breath away from growling in their faces and tearing their throats out.

He doesn't really know what happened.

What he does know, is that control is a feeble thing for someone like him. He's known it for a while.

"What are you doing here?" Theo asks. He's always blunt like that. Like it isn't crystal clear what Liam is doing here, other than being a pathetic sack of shit.

"Nothin'. Just hanging out."

Theo sighs, slumping against the wall next to him. He hasn't been back in town for a long time. Liam knows he'll leave again, soon, without a word. And still, he called him and not Mason. Not Corey, not Scott, or Alec.

It's Theo. It's always Theo.

"Right. Outside the club. On your own. Seems like an awesome time, should've invited me."

"Shut up," Liam growls. Theo can take it. Take his anger and his outbursts. The harsh words he normally keeps on the back of his tongue. Theo's special, like that. "Fuck."

"Wow, original. Haven't heard that one before."

It's almost like Theo knows he needs this. The anger and the release. Something better than sex, but just as shameful once it's over. A fight. An argument. To deliver words like blows until the pain flashes across their face.

Liam isn't a sadist. He isn't.

He's angry. He's lonely.

"Oh, fuck off." He stands, curling his fists. "You know what your problem is, Raeken? You don't belong anywhere. Ever since you killed your fucking sister, you've been a drifter, haven't you? And now you think you can just drift back into my life because, what? Because once upon we helped eachother out?"

"You're the one that called me," Theo says, glint in his eye. "You're the one sitting outside a club like a kicked dog."

Liam drags him up by his shirt, slamming him against the wall and crowding up against him. "You think you're so clever, huh? You think nothing can hurt you because you'll just leave again anyways. Well, news flash: running away doesn't fix the real problem. Your rotten. Fucking. Heart."

He sees Theo's jaw clench. Can feel the regret bubbling up in his gut, even though it hadn't been the most cruel thing he's ever said, not by a long shot.

It's different, because he's Theo.

"Fuck," Liam breathes, slumping forward. His hands uncurl, letting go of the fabric of Theo's shirt. His forehead rests on Theo's shoulder. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't-."

"It's alright," Theo says, placing a hand on his back. Theo understands. He always does. He's kind when he needs to be. Mean when Liam needs to hear it. But he's always Theo, and Theo always helps.

Liam stays there. He breathes in Theo's scent. It's different from how it was before, yet so similar it might as well be the same. Tones more mature, yet under them it's all Theo. The same Theo as always.

It calms him down.

"What's wrong?" Theo asks.

Liam shrugs. "Lonely," he says. "Got mad. They kicked me out."

If Theo feels sorry for him, he doesn't say it. "What can I do?" He asks. Because if Liam has changed, after all those fights. After realizing the world probably doesn't revolve around him as much as he'd assumed it did when he first turned, Theo definitely changed with him.

Maybe he learned some things when he was traveling to God knows where. Maybe Liam will ask him, sometime.

"Let me call you mine," Liam says, hushed words leaving his mouth before he's given them permission to. "Just for tonight."

He means something. Something different than sex, yet so much more intimate. He's asking Theo for a piece of him, to keep, to cherish, to hold close whenever the nights grow cold.

He's asking him for something he shouldn't.

Theo agrees. Of course he does. Liam should have known.

They end up in Liam's childhood bedroom, the smell of youth and Theo surrounding him. He's allowed to tangle their legs together under the blanket. He's allowed to hold, to press kiss after kiss to Theo's collar bones.

He's careful, at first. Still not sure if he's allowed in a way that means he can be greedy, that he can take. But Theo lets him. He holds his hand. He catches his eye. He smiles.

He allows Liam to do whatever he wants to him. Press his nose into Theo's neck and breathe in his scent like he'd been starved from it. He had. He had been, and he's not sure what will happen come morning.

But tonight...

He's allowed to love, for tonight.

Theo holds him back. He whispers words of affection into his skin and presses kisses against his hair.

Liam can pretend this is something they do. This is something that's a part of them. He can pretend they'll do the same tomorrow night. That he's got someone he can call his, in that primal way he's been craving more and more as the days creep by.

Faintly, he's aware that Theo will leave again. Tomorrow, or in a month or two. He will leave. There is no doubt about it.

But for tonight, Theo has chosen him. Him to be with. Him to stay with. And Liam couldn't be more content.

When Liam falls asleep, he's not lonely. For the first time in years he feels like someone's there for him. Like someone cares for him. Like someone loves him.

#thiam #liam dunbar #theo raeken #theo x liam #teen wolf #🖊️#drabble requests

18 notes · View notes

pars-ley · 6 months ago

Note

hi!! congrats on 800 🥳🥳 and i have a request for the prompt event!! could i please request hoseok with a coffee shop au/genre, and prompt #6 ("How do you expect me to focus, when you're walking around wearing that?") 🤍 fluffy and smutty and all things lovely please <33 and congratulations again!!

Title: Ultimate blend Pairing: Hoseok x female reader Summary: Becoming friends with your coffee shop owner crush wasn't part of your plan…so how do you get him to see you as more than that? Genre: friends to lovers / coffee shop au / smut / fluff Rating: 18+ (NSFW) Warnings: slight exhibitionism / oral (f.receiving) / unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) / brief breast play / seduction / sex in a coffee shop / W/C: 2.1k Banner: @beomcoups thank you for the masterpiece! Beta: @ctrlhope thank you, super helpful! Taglist: @asillyduck15 Notes: thank you so much for this request! As soon as I saw Hoseok was out of the military it gave me the inspiration I needed. I hope you enjoy! If anyone would like to send a request, with or without the prompt game, feel free.

The bell rings as you enter your favourite coffee shop, a quiet, pleasant jingle that reminds you why you enjoy coming here, time and time again. The coffee wasn't anything mind blowing, the food was average at best, but it was not those things that kept you coming back. It was him.

“I'm afraid we're closed!” Hoseok calls out from the back room.

Glancing around at the chairs turned upside down on top of the tables, you choose to ignore him. Your heels click along the hard floor, seeming to echo in the unusually silent shop, as you tighten the belt on your coat and slowly follow the sound of his voice.

You'd both struck up a genuine friendship since you discovered his establishment, exchanging numbers and even spending time together outside work hours on occasion. With his sunshine personality, it wasn't difficult but keeping this relationship platonic was.

There were times you were sure he was flirting, possibly interested in something more. Yet the moment you thought about making a move, it would pass and he would return to his usual friendly manner. He consumes your thoughts, there was no chance he could escape from your mind and therefore, you had made the executive decision to finally let him know how you feel.

And boy, were you about to blow his mind.

He'd sent you a text earlier saying he was closing and was planning to send all other staff home – you saw this as your opportunity. The thought of the aftermath if this went well had excitement blooming inside you, like budding flowers opening up in spring.

“Sorry, but we're-” he starts, but his words disappear when he sees you, surprise evident in the way his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Y/n, what a nice surprise.”

His opening grin has your heart aching. You have to bite your lip, holding in a dreamy sigh that threatens to escape.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asks, stepping back around to the counter.

“I just thought, seeing as you're alone, you might like some help cleaning up?” You shrug, nonchalantly.

He watches you quizzically, “Really? You came here just to help me clean?”

Nodding you lean over the counter, chin resting on your hand. “Then maybe we could go for dinner after…if you're not busy?”

Your eyes do not waver from his. The hunger that simmers just under the surface makes your skin feel hot under your Mac.

“I'd like that.” He responds with a genuine, heart pounding smile that almost takes your breath away.

“Perfect,” you stand and look around the shop, “What would you like me to do? Clean the floor?”

He disappears into the back room and returns with the mop and bucket, “That would be fantastic.” He pauses, “Are you sure you don't mind?”

Shaking your head, you walk around to the entrance at the side of the counter, “Four hands are better than two, we'll be out of here in no time.”

Throwing him a wink, he slides the bucket over to you before heading to the back room to resume whatever he was doing before you came in.

Walking over to the windows, you pull the blinds closed and lock the door. Smiling to yourself as you undo the belt of your coat and slide it off, before draping it over a chair, the cold air hits you and sends goosebumps cascading across your skin. Your nipples hardening, however, are from more than the evening chill. With your back towards Hoseok, you grab the mop and soak it before rubbing it across the floor. You manage to have made it halfway across the room before you hear Hoseok's footsteps returning to the shop floor. You cannot keep the smirk off your face as you listen closely for his reaction.

*SMASH*

The loud noise makes you jump slightly as you turn innocently to glance over your shoulder at him. “Are you ok?”

Your view is almost comical. His frame frozen - mouth agape as his gaze remains fixed to your body. Eyes practically bulging at the sight of your half naked form.

“Do you need help with that?” You ask, already moving around the counter. The sight of the broken white mugs scattered on the floor turn you on, and you drop to your knees directly in front of him to start picking up the shards of porcelain.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He says finally.

“What does it look like? I'm helping clean up,” You look up at him through your eyelashes and you're sure you see his crotch twitch in his trousers, “Come on, lazy.”

You stand and empty the shards into the bin, not bothering to spare him another glance as you go back to mopping, jutting your backside out purposefully.

You sense him closing some of the distance between you as he speaks, “How do you expect me to focus, when you're walking around wearing that?”

Slowly, you turn and face him, dropping the mop and running your hands down the sides of your body, relishing the feel of your lace lingerie set under your fingers, “Oh, is my outfit distracting you?” Your heels click against the floor as you descend upon him and he cannot look away from you.

“Would you prefer I took this off?” You let your bra strap fall off one shoulder teasingly, as there's only mere centimetres between you both. The air around you has turned thick and hot, charged with tension and promise.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you have to resist the urge to squeeze your legs together for some relief. He doesn't miss the way your eyes land on his mouth, seizing his chance to pull you towards him, slamming your bodies together. His lips find yours immediately - the taste of him incomparable to anything else. Sunshine on a rainy day, freshly baked bread warm from the oven, gooey chocolate chip cookies; nothing can even come close. Exploring his mouth was better than you could've imagined. His hand finds your lower back and holds you tightly against him, which you gladly obey. His erection digging into your thigh makes you eager for him. Your hands tangle in his hair, gripping and pulling him closer still.

Your legs being effortlessly scooped out from under you makes you squeal, and as he sits your bare bottom on the cold countertop, the sound only grows. He smiles against your mouth, his hands travelling desperately over your body. Feeling along a pathway of his own desires - mapping out your skin for him alone.

When he pulls away, you're left gasping for air, forgetting you have been barely breathing. Focusing on much more important things, like Hoseok's tongue and the way it feels dancing with yours.

He stares at your legs, letting his hands glide up the sleek stockings, until they pause at the waistband of your lace thong. His eyes meet yours, pupils blown wide and desperate - begging you to answer the question left unasked. His last bit of restraint hangs in the air.

You nod frantically, giving him what he wants. He pulls it off, stuffing it into his pocket. Raising an eyebrow, waiting for you to challenge him, yet you don't - wouldn't dare to. The thought of what he might do with them later had your teeth digging into your bottom lip as possibilities raced through your mind.

He spreads your legs and traces featherlight fingertips along your sex, groaning when he feels your arousal. Not wasting a second before bringing his fingers straight to his mouth and tasting you. Eyes on you the entire time. Your hips buck upwards slightly, desperate for him to touch you again.

“You are delicious.” He says. Before you have time to respond his mouth envelopes your folds, licking and sucking in the most slow and sensual way. It makes you want to scream.

You slam a hand over your mouth in an attempt to keep the noise to a minimum, but he takes it and moves it back down, shaking his head.

“I want to hear you, baby.”

His mouth continues its onslaught, tongue moving in expert fashion, circling your clit and building up that tight pull inside you.

The way he laps at your moisture, like a man starved before returning straight back to your swollen bud. When he sucks the sensitive bean, pleasure shoots straight through you, arching your back and curling your toes.

Gasping and panting, feeling ready to explode if he continues, your skin feels aflame. Your hands grapple at his hair as you grind yourself against mouth, needy for release.

His hands find their way under your butt cheeks, squeezing the flesh, before using them to push you up into his face. When he moans against you, the vibration tips you over the edge, making that taut string inside you snap and you come unravelling around him. Waves of euphoria wash over you. Your body twitching as he laps up every last bit of arousal off your swollen lips.

As your ecstasy dissipates and you can breathe again. Yet, he only gives you a moment of reprieve before he's pulling you upright, greeting you with a tender kiss. You melt into it. The tiredness overtaking your body doesn't last long, when you taste yourself on his lips, lighting a new fire in your belly.

His mouth trails down your neck, to your breasts. As he pulls your bra down, revealing you to him. He moans, making your sex throb with new desire.

“Y/n, I need to be inside you.” He looks up at you with a pained expression.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kiss him again - deep and hungry.

“Then take me.”

He lifts you off the counter, spinning you around. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you into the back room.

Your back is against a cold wall before you know it, making you shiver. The warmth of his body, the complete opposite as he presses himself against you. Hearing him undo the belt of his jeans and listening to the clang as they hit the floor, has excitement pounding directly in your chest.

Feeling the tip of him at your entrance, he pauses, giving you another questioning look. You can only nod furiously. Too eager to wait to feel him any longer, want and need pooling deep inside you. You’re unable to help the way your hips move in a desperate attempt to entice him into you quickly.

He throws a sideways smirk your way before thrusting gently inside. You can’t help but gasp, relishing in the way he's stretching you open. He gives you a moment to adjust when he bottoms out, taking the opportunity to kiss you. The movement slow and sensual, the mood completely changing.

He gives you one last sweet peck on the lips before pounding into you, keeping an even pace as you bounce up and down, back sliding harshly against the brick wall.

“Fuck, you are so sexy.” He says, watching your breasts bounce from his thrusting action.

His fingers dig into your buttocks as he holds you firmly. His cock ramming inside you, hitting that sensitive stop every time without fail.

Stars appear beneath your lids as your eyes roll back. Your hips meet his with every thrust, moving in perfect sync. The sounds of his pants and moans make your toes curl and legs tighten around him. You were drawing ever closer into the abyss. When he grabs your breasts, pinching the nipple, you tighten around him.

“You gonna come again for me, baby?”

Fingers gripping a fistful of his hair, you can't speak. Your words; trapped in your throat as you're unable to think of anything but the impending release.

He slams into you harder but slows down the pace. Every hit on that internal pleasure button makes you grow hotter. Until finally, fireworks erupt inside you once more.

The moment your walls contract around him, he chases his high, unleashing inside you. His warm seed fills you, as you rotate your hips, milking him and also riding your own wave of carnal delight.

As your breathing returns and your vision clears from the erotic fog, he returns your feet to the ground. Supporting you until he feels you're steady enough, using the motion to plant feather light kisses across your face.

“I have to say,” he starts, still pinning you to the wall, “this was a very unexpected surprise.”

“Well, seeing as my flirting was clearly too subtle, I needed to give you a bigger clue.”

A hearty laugh echoes around you, one of the many traits that attracted you to him in the first place.

“I just thought you were a very friendly person, but the message is received loud and clear,” His hands roam the sides of your body, “and it is very much reciprocated.”

He lifts your face to him with a knuckle under your chin, “I think you're wonderful.”

For the first time this evening your cheeks flush. The man had been french-kissing your pussy not twenty minutes ago and yet, that makes you blush.

“Right back to you.”

He leans in and kisses you so sensually your knees feel like they could collapse, before pulling back slightly and whispering against your lips, “Dinner at my place?”

Your stomach flips from the idea of being in his house and all the prospects of what else you could do to each other.

“Definitely.” You reply, as his soft lips meet yours one more time.

57 notes · View notes

littlebirdygirlywriting · 29 days ago

Text

Unpleasant Anniversaries

Daredevil Masterlist || Based on this request!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Every year, it was the worst week of your life. A week absolutely brimming with unpleasant anniversaries. But when you sleep through your alarm for work, you don’t expect a certain Matt Murdock to come knocking at your door. Or that you’d confess the feelings you have for him.

Author’s Note: I can’t believe I reference a game of truth or dare so often in this fic just to not be able to come up with what the dare would be. Smh. Sorry guys. You can use your imagination I guess. 😂 Thank you SO MUCH for the request anon!! I hope it’s everything you were hoping it would be and that it’s not too cliche… (And that it’s not too long, because this baby really got away on me. 😬) This is actually my first time writing (or at least posting) for the DD fandom, so please let me know if I’m OOC!

Warnings: Angst (but with a happy ending), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, References to Parental Death, Cussing, References to Alcohol and Hangovers, no use of y/n (I’m getting pretty good at back flipping and somersaulting around it, but I still apologize if it comes off clunky), Fluff at the end (because what’s the point of hurt/comfort if we don’t have some cute, fluffy comfort??), Love Confessions. I’m posting this without editing, and yes, that is a warning. (I am SO going to regret this decision later, but I am way too tired to edit).

Word Count: 2.3k

———————————————————————————

This cannot be happening. I cannot be falling in love with Matt Murdock.

It was stupid, really. The stupidest thing that had caused you to realise it.

Freaking Foggy.

Granted, you couldn’t entirely blame him. You were far too old to succumb to peer pressure anyway. Far too old to be playing Truth or Dare with a six-pack of beer and the exhaustion of an emotional week under your belt.

A week absolutely brimming with unpleasant anniversaries.

The anniversary of your mother’s death, the anniversary of your long-term boyfriend breaking up with you for your best friend, your birthday. Bing, bang, boom…back-to-back.

Every year, it was the worst week of your life, and you just wanted something fun and lighthearted and silly enough to make you forget about the ache wrenching your heart in two.

Stupid. Stupid anniversaries and stupid emotions and stupid, stupid, STUPID, idiotic game.

It was juvenile, and you cursed yourself for going along with the idea. Because now, you had another item to add to the list.

And the week wasn’t even over yet.

A steady thumping at your door matched the rhythm pounding in your head, your name spoken through the thin wood.

Peeking through cracked eyelids revealed afternoon sunlight streaming into your apartment, the alarm clock beside your bed happily displaying 12:05pm.

Shit!

You bolted upright in bed, groaning as your head throbbed in protest. Another series of knocks rapped against your door, followed by your name again. Double shit!

Matt.

Stumbling out of bed, you grit your teeth against the headache and tripped your way to the door, fumbling with the lock and cursing your hangover. The drinking hadn’t stopped once you got home, and you were really starting to regret that decision.

The lock clicked, and before Matt even had a chance to step into the apartment, apologies were spewing from your lips.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Matt. It won’t happen again. I must’ve slept through the alarm or forgot to set it or something, but it won’t happen again, I promise. I—”

The words were spilling out of you like a river, and even you were struggling to make sense of them. Embarrassingly, tears pricked the backs of your eyes, something that only deepened the ache pounding through your skull.

“Hey.” Matt dropped his cane in the entryway, door closing behind him and strong, steady hands placed groundingly on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad. Foggy, Karen, and I were just worried when you didn’t show up to work. We thought somebody better come check on you.”

That was…really sweet.

And the floodgates opened.

Gut-wrenching sobs tore through your body, every ounce of hurt and despair and loneliness bottled up for the last several years breaking through your carefully-constructed walls and flowing like a wellspring onto the hardwood floor.

For a second, Matt froze, stunned, and you wanted to kick yourself. This was not what Matt had signed up for by volunteering to come check on you. If anything, he was probably wishing right now that Karen or Foggy or literally anyone else had offered to go instead.

“I’m–I’m sorry.” You tried to apologize for crying, for not showing up to work, for being a crazy, messed-up disaster that Matt certainly shouldn’t have to deal with.

His arms wrapped around you, warm and comforting, and despite your best intentions, you found yourself melting into the touch, clinging to the front of his dress shirt and probably ruining it with your tears.

“I’m–I’m sorry, Matt. I–”

“Shhh.” He interrupted you with a hum, gently resting his chin on top of your head, strong arms locked securely around you.

Still, you felt the need to explain.

“It’s–it’s just a really rough week for me, but I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine. I always end up fine. I just–”

He shushed you again quietly, warm hands running soothing strokes up and down your back. The tears began to slow, and you hiccuped before attempting to take a long, controlled breath.

“That’s it. That’s good. Just breathe.”

His hands didn’t stop moving, and you closed your eyes, savouring the touch for however long it would last. Burying yourself in the comfort of it.

Maybe you could make a piece of this moment last forever.

When a deep, shuddery sigh expelled itself from your lungs, Matt stepped back, head tilting as his hands rested back on your shoulders, seeming to be listening for something. What, you didn’t know. Concern marred a crease on his forehead though, and another wave of guilt roiled in your stomach.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was small and weak, pathetic. “Matt, I’m so–”

“Stop saying you’re sorry.” His tone was firm, brooking no argument. His hand started stroking up and down your arm. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I was late for work.” The words fell to the floor with your gaze.

“We got by for the morning.”

You squinted against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, the ache behind your eyes barely manageable. “I made you guys worry.”

His tone remained smooth, calm. “That’s okay. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

“And…” You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, worrying your lip between your teeth. “I got tears on your shirt.”

A wry smile tilted his lips, and you could just picture the amusement dancing behind those red glasses. “I’ll live, and it’ll wash.”

“I just…” You sighed, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes, trying to uproot the headache that seemed to be drilling a hole through your skull. “I just wish this week was over.”

The tips of his fingers danced over your arm, and his voice became low, tender. “Why?”

Tears sprang to your eyes again, but you forced them back, swallowing down the lump attempting to rise in your throat.

Could you tell him? Could you really, truly trust him with this information? Would it make him look at you differently? Would it make him see you as broken?

“It just…” You paused, hesitating. “It’s just got some bad memories attached to it, is all.” Then, before you could stop yourself. “Did you know my mom died six years ago yesterday?”

Matt frowned, lips twitching like he wanted to speak.

But you kept going.

“Heart attack. The doctors never saw it coming. I was in my first year of university…” You swallowed, bitter memories you regularly kept locked away rising to the surface. “I was on the plane when she passed—didn’t even know until my dad met me at the airport.”

Your name drifted from his lips, hushed and sad. It should make you stop—it should make you shove the feelings back into a box, lock them up tight, and forget about them forever. Instead…

“Two years later, this great guy came into my life. Smart, funny…” Almost as handsome as you. You pushed the thought aside and continued. “We were talking about marriage. Family, kids. We would buy a house on the coast, right next to his parents. We were going to be so happy…”

The memory played out before your eyes. Big house, a dog, 2.5 children—you’d even talked colour schemes, baby names. Had tentatively set a date for just after graduation.

“Until the doctors thought they found something on one of my routine screenings. Suddenly, ‘in sickness and in health’ became a little too close to home. He was sleeping with my best friend before I even had a chance to tell him it was a false alarm.”

By the hard set of his jaw, Matt was less than pleased to hear about your piece-of-shit ex, lips pressed firmly together like he might be trying to keep himself from having a word with him this very moment.

A near-hysterical laugh floated up from your chest, heart ripping apart inside you.

“It was really a stupidly shitty thing to do on someone’s birthday, but hey, live and learn I guess. Just gives me one less reason to celebrate. It hasn’t been the same since my mom passed anyway…”

His head tilted sharply. “Your birthday is this week?”

A small, pathetic nod tipped your chin. “Today, actually.”

Matt’s jaw worked, expression so pained you thought for a second he might be more hurt by the knowledge than you were.

“And then, of course, I’m stupid enough to play Truth or Dare, get so outrageously drunk that I sleep through my alarm, and if I worked for anyone other than you, I would’ve been fired on the spot, so…” The headache was splitting your brain in two. You needed an aspirin. “Icing on the cake.”

Walking into the kitchen to dig through your cupboards for the pill bottle and a glass of water, you genuinely hoped Matt would leave it as is. It was stupid—nothing but a hard week and an off day and two minutes of word vomiting. Or maybe closer to ten. Either way, you just wanted to keep your head low and forget about this little outburst until the end of the week, when you could cry properly.

Of course, you should’ve known better than to think Matt would leave it alone.

“Okay, first of all,” he said, following you into the kitchen, “you would not have been fired from any other job. You’ve been nothing but punctual every other day of the year—one bad day doesn’t scrap a perfectly good record. And second–” he interrupted your protest with a furrowed brow and his hand raised in the ‘stop’ position. “You were not that drunk when you left the office yesterday. What happened?”

You winced, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, and you delayed by popping the aspirin in your mouth with a swig of water. When you were finished, Matt was still waiting.

“Nothing.”

He scoffed, and you tried not to let it hurt. “Nothing?”

“That’s what I said, Matt.” Whoa, you did not mean for your tone to be so sharp, but there was no stopping it now. “Maybe I had a few more when I got home. Maybe I had a whole case. Maybe—” your voice cracked, and tears pricked your eyes again. “Maybe I just didn’t want to think about my dead mother or my cheating ex or the fact that when I took that fucking dare yesterday, I didn’t realise I had feelings for you until it was too late. And I—” Tears flooded the dam, dripping down your cheeks, your words breaking on a sob. “I can’t have feelings for you, because all they ever do is get me hurt…and I can’t handle any more hurt, Matt. I can’t! I can’t–-”

For the second time that day, you dissolved into sobs, the sheer force of pain clefting you in two like a tidal wave.

Through a haze of tears, you watched Matt hesitate, hand flexing, before stepping forward and slowly wrapping his arms around you, keeping you together when you were sure you would fall apart.

The reality of what you’d just confessed washed over you, embarrassment now mixing with the sadness to create a whirl of agonising pain.

You wanted to choke on the feelings.

“I’m–I’m sorry, Matt.” Your words were so garbled, you have no idea how he understood them.

But he did.

“What did I say earlier?” he soothed, warm hand stroking up and down your back again. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

God, you wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that you hadn’t just ruined your career confessing feelings for your boss. Wanted to believe that he wouldn’t just slowly disappear from your life, like a ship in the night, fading out of friendship, out of reach of a lighthouse.

Your body bucked and hiccuped, lungs struggling for air through the emotion filling your chest. His arms tightened around you.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Shhhh.” His lips graced your hairline—a soft kiss, tender—before he again rested his chin on top of your head. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe, okay?”

You shook your head, the salt-stained fabric of his shirt swishing against your ear. “No. Matt, I ruined everything.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“I ruined everything!”

Grasping fistfuls of his shirt in shaky hands, you felt his jaw shift atop your head.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he repeated, voice barely above a whisper. “I—God, I…I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

You sniffed, wiping the tear stains off your cheeks with his shirt. “Told me what?”

He paused, chest expanding with a breath, like he was preparing himself for something.

“That I…I have feelings for you too.”

“Don’t patronize me, Murdock,” you snipped, attempting to push out of his arms, because that’s just what you didn’t need, someone to make fun of the emotions that you already knew were stupid.

He held you fast.

“I’m not. I promise you I’m not.” The conviction in his voice was almost enough to convince you of the truth on its own. And if it wasn’t, his heart racing against your fingertips, chaotic and wild, certainly was. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, sweetheart. I–I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

He smiled sheepishly, and the world moved in slow motion.

“You…love me?” A whisper is too loud to describe the question you breathed, but Matt chuckled, the tips of his ears flushed a dusty shade of pink.

“Yeah.” His head tilted, slight crease between his brows, carefully regarding your reaction.

“Matt Murdock…” you breathed, wiping the final few tears off your cheeks and looking up into his red glasses. “This is the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.”

He frowned. “Then we really need to fix that.”

You laughed, a real, genuine laugh, probably the first one this entire week, and melted back into his arms.

173 notes · View notes