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corkinavoid · 1 day

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DPxDC Danny, Dani, Jason & Joker

Note: this is written for Varverona, who requested it in the comments for my Haunted Family series. I could not find a place to fit it in the fic, but I liked the idea, so here we go.

It had to happen eventually. Gotham, while being a pretty big city, was not that big. It was really just a matter of time. Jason understood that perfectly.

But understanding it didn't make him feel any better.

"Phantom, Phantasm, wait for back up. Do not engage", B's gravelly voice repeats over the comms, and, okay, this might be the one and only time when Jason agrees with him. Facing Joker is not something two kids can or should do, no matter if they are part-ghost. Jason is pretty sure the whole Batclan is on the way to their location, but he is the closest, and even if his usual anger and rage are dulled due to the 'anger manager', he is still incredibly fucking pissed. This is his undead brother and nonborn sister Joker has eyes on, of course he is mad as fuck.

"B, you do remember we are glowing, right?" Danny asks, easy and nonchalant, and Bruce grunts in response.

"You are also able to become invisible," Oracle reminds him, and yeah, sure, but Jason already knows where this is going. He didn't spend months with Phantoms for nothing, he knows those kids are not afraid of anything and are ready to throw themselves in any kind of trouble at any given moment, if they think its fun enough. He still remembers that time when Dani literally fist-fought Killer Croc and came out of the fight victorious. All while looking like she is a kindergartener who just came out of bed, with her pajama pants and fluffy slippers.

Yet this is so not the time for their ridiculous antics. Killer Croc is just big, strong, and lizard, after all, and this? This is Joker. A whole another level of fucked-up.

"A bit too late for that, I'd say," Danny snorts off-handedly, and Jason feels his blood freeze in his veins as he hears another distant but familiar voice from his comm-line:

"Well-well-well, what do we have here?" Joker cackles, high-pitched and hysterical, "Two new birds coming to the show!"

Jason didn't know he physically could, but he picks up his pace, grappling and jumping through the roofs. He is almost there.

"Dude, that's so rude," he hears Danny, and he just knows the kid is rolling his eyes.

"You gotta ask for our pronouns and preferred names. You can't just assume," that's Dani, being no less obnoxious than her brother. And, well, the situation is intense, and Jason's sure everyone is nervous, but- he bites back a smile. And he hears Tim's short laugh, badly disguised as a cough.

Judging by the silence over the comms, Joker also pauses at that. Everyone else also keeps quiet, and Jason is not sure if it's because they are busy grappling or just don't want to distract Phantoms. Or they are just interested in listening to this exchange, because he for once is.

There is a little comfort in knowing Joker literally can't kill those two. It's tiny and almost unnoticeable, but it's just enough for Jason to not yell at them for throwing jokes at the madman.

"Oh, pardon me my insolence," Joker's voice sounds appalled if only slightly, "I've been away for quite some time. No time to catch up with TikTok trends in Arkham, you see?" He is not finished, Jason knows the fucker, he knows by the tone of his voice that he wants to add something else, but he is interrupted.

"You're pardoned," Dani oh so generously allows, "I'm Phantasm, and this is my brother Phantom. We're ghosts."

And before Joker could answer, Danny continues:

"And you are?.. I don't think I've seen you around before."

Joker sputters. Jason barely holds back his own cackling, and Tim has no such qualms, so he barks a short laugh. Bruce just grunts.

"I am Joker! Clown Prince of Crime!" Okay, stressful situation aside, this is just pathetic. The madman sounds like a kid stomping his foot on the playground.

"If he added 'beware', the resemblance to Boxy would have been uncanny," he hears Danny mutter quietly, and Dani snorts. Jason is familiar enough with their own rogue gallery to get the joke, and, seriously?

Thankfully, he's finally made it to their location. All he needs is to jump down in the alley and-

"You know, you're not actually a clown, right?" Danny suddenly says, and Jason sees him tilting his head to the side, looking like he is trying to educate a particularly dumb first-grader on math.

"What?!" Joker snaps, and Dani nods eagerly, standing by her brother's side in all her pajama glory.

Change of plans, Jason wants to hear this. Jumping down on Joker's head can be done at any second since he is already here, and it's not like Joker can really harm a ghost.

"You can't just call yourself a clown out of nowhere," Danny chastises.

"And your performances suck. Don't get me wrong, if you'd call yourself something like, I dunno, 'A Laughing Shitbag', I wouldn't have any problem with that," Dani shrugs, and Danny easily falls into rhythm, continuing the train of thought:

"But being a clown is, like, a career. You have to study for it, there are universities that let you major in clown. Did you attend one, because it looks like you didn't," he pauses, and his face suddenly is full of pity, "Oh, I'm sorry, did you drop out?"

"That's sad," Dani mirrors his expression, and Joker just stands there, looking between the Phantoms like they are crazy - which, yeah, maybe, but it's not like he has room to talk. Dani frowns, "But that still doesn't make you a clown. Where's your clown diploma, Mr. Assface McKidkiller?"

"That's enough!" Joker reaches for something on his side - a gun, most likely - and, well, that's his cue. Jason strongly suspects that the Phantoms are able to handle it on their own, but it's just too big of a loss for him not to get involved. Not when it's Joker and not when he has an advantage.

He jumps down, landing right on Joker's back before the madman can pull out his whatever he was reaching for. The force of the impact - and Jason is not a small man by any account - causes the fucker to fall face down and hit the ground, and, before he can do or say anything else, Jason hits him in the back of his head, knocking the man unconscious. The damper Danny made for him does wonders on his impulse control.

"Hey, Hood!" Both siblings greet him as one, waving at him, their smiles full of innocence, and Jason really can't help it. He starts laughing.

"Hood, status report," immediately demands Bruce, but he just can't - this was so stupid, and so funny, and it's probably the first time they have apprehended the Joker in less than an hour after he escaped Arkham, but it's also the best fucking thing he's heard in a long time.

"B, he is okay," Danny reports, as Jason breathes in and starts laughing again, clutching his sides and bending down while still standing on top of the Joker's body.

"The Joker is not, though," Dani supplies, stepping closer and crouching down to poke at the madman's hair, "Ew, does he shower like, ever? That's gross."

Jason feels his eyes water from all the laughing. He's never felt so light and easy since... Well, maybe since he was Robin. Who knew all it would take him is two ghostly kids scolding Joker for being a bad fucking clown.

"Phantom, report," Oracle decides to step in, and Danny sighs heavily:

"Hood jumped down from the roof right on top of Joker. I wonder if he broke his back, but the man is not dead, that's for sure, just knocked out cold. I mean, I personally don't mind him dead, but with the way he acts, I'm absolutely 100% sure he is going to come back as a ghost when that happens and I'd rather not deal with that kind of fuckery if I can help it."

Bruce grunts again. Tim breathes out a soft, relieved sigh, and after a few seconds of silence, he... chuckles.

Soon enough it's not just Jason laughing his ass off - the others join him over the comms, one by one succumbing down to the slightly hysterical but still full of relief laughter.

"Assface McKidkiller!"

"Shit, he really doesn't have a diploma for being a clown, I just checked."

"God, this was awesome!"

"Dick's gonna be so mad he missed this, oh my God."

"Assface McKidkiller!"

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 2 days

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Anxious: simon ghost riley x f! reader

This is part of the Quiet Series

Warnings: angst, fluff, Ghost taking cafre of you and being a dumb idiot in love

Ghost didn't like how you made yourself scarce once everyone arrived back at base. He knew you had gone to the showers to wash off all the blood but since then you had disappeared.

You would've come back to eat with him or the others by now. You would've made conversation with him on the helo ride back.

You were quiet however, for a lack of a better word, and you had a strange look in your eyes that made him uneasy. It was unlike the sadness the crept in every once in a while. It was something so much more visceral yet he couldn't quite place what you were feeling.

He noticed almost immediately how distant you were and how it seemed you were stuck inside your head.

Ghost barely took a shower before he was on the search for you. He wasn't good with words and it was a particularly cold night out but lucky for him you seemed to cheer up around his presence regardless.

It made him not want to be alone, strange enough. There was a lot about him that was changing because of you, good things that he decided to put aside for your sake at the moment.

He found you in the armory where you cleaned up your rifle in silence. He waited for you to give him more than an acknowledging look since you were facing the door but when you dipped your head back down he frowned.

A pit formed in his stomach.

"You've been quiet." Ghost grunted and you raised an eyebrow.

Ironic, and he wasn't even trying to be funny at the moment.

"What happened?" He pressed.

He saw you go down but after that his line of sight was cut off by the walls. After that he saw you covered in a lot of blood and you barely communicated at all since.

You paused and glanced away from him. There was an uncertainty in your eyes before you gently set your rifle down.

"He pinned me down." You signed and his eyes hardened. "And I freaked out."

Ghost waited for your to elaborate but that was all you said. He knew there was something more, especially when you grabbed your rifle to hide the slight shakiness in your hands but he saw it.

He saw everything about you.

You weren't one to panic either, not in the field, not like that.

You were keeping something from him and he didn't like it. He didn't like that you were pushing him away, you were keeping him out...but it's not like he had been as open either.

There were a lot of things you didn't know about him. There were a lot of things he didn't know about you even if he wanted to know more.

Maybe he could try it in the future. Just for you.

But right now you didn't need that. He could see how much turmoil there was inside you and to break open the doors, to throw gasoline on the fire would only make things worse for you.

"Are you hungry?" He asked softly.

You shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile that felt forced.

He narrowed his eyes. He knew you weren't being stubborn on purpose but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to be stubborn either.

"Doesn't matter, you're coming with me." He signed to make sure you were listening and turned around.

You made a noise and he glanced back at you to see the confused look on your face.

"Well?"

You got up a little haphazardly when he gave you a stern look and came up beside him with slight confusion before he nodded towards you.

"We'll get a jumper before leaving, it's cold."

Later Ghost sat at your desk with a plate of food from your favorite restaurant. He watched you eat on your bed in silence, the conversation going into a lull while the two of you were preoccupied with food.

He felt better that he had convinced you to eat but you still had that distant look in your eyes.

It wasn't until you set your utensils down that he understood why.

"My old team and I were close." You signed without looking at him. "Like a family."

"Most are." He said and truly believed it.

Though, he'd rather not admit it to anyone else but you.

"They're gone."

Ghost clenched his jaw. It hadn't occurred to him that your old team being gone was the reason why you transferred. He thought it was because you had outgrown them, you had gotten too skilled and wanted something more.

He didn't ask any questions especially as you tensed up.

"I don't want to lose you too."

His eyebrows knitted together. He's not entirely sure what brought along that but he didn't make any comment about it.

"You won't." He assured you but you shook your head.

You looked up at him and his heart sank from your pleading eyes. He watched you open your mouth as if you were trying to say something which made his chest tighten even more.

When nothing came out shame flashed across your face and you turned away from him.

Ghost said your name, your real name and you flinched before you shut your eyes tightly.

He didn't really think when he stood up and sat down beside you or when he gently grabbed your wrists. He wasn't one for physical touch, not until you came around and always spared him light taps on his arms or shoulders.

When you still didn't open your eyes he held your face gently and you finally looked at him.

He stared into your teary eyes and in that moment he nearly kissed you.

He wanted to. He wanted to kiss you to take away all of the pain you were feeling, to know what it felt like to feel your lips against his own and to show you how he truly felt. More than the times he walked with you or told you jokes to make you happy, more than everything else.

Ghost glanced down at your lips and he leaned forward.

It was the wrong moment.

He rested his forehead against yours and looked deep into your eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere." He stated firmly but low enough for only you to hear. "That's a promise."

You blinked a few times before you shut your eyes and a shaky breath escaped your chest. You wrapped your arms around him and it only took a moment for him to pull you into his lap and hold you tight.

You clung onto him and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He rested his head against yours and wrapped his arms protectively around you in hopes that he could bring some sort of comfort to you without saying anything else.

Ghost lost track of the time and when he woke up in bed with you in his arms the next morning he realized he much preferred this to his own bed.

a/n: things will come about and they will open up eventually

Tags: @buckysjuicyplums @thedevillovesflowers @sleepyycatt

#quiet series #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost

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natsaffection · 19 hours

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Mafias Mistress pt. 6 | N.R.

MafiaBoss!Natasha x CivilianYounger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22) Fingering, begging, strap on use (r receiving), rough sex, dirty talk,

Word Count: 6,8K

A/N: It’s overrr. Thank you for all the support on this story! I really liked it to write and see talk reactions on it🫱🏼‍🫲🏻 As with all my other series, requests are of course welcome for this story! 🫶🏼

The room was silent except for the gentle sounds of Natasha's movements as she carefully tended to you. The air was filled with a mixture of lingering tension and the soft light of early dusk filtering through the curtains. You lay on the bed, your body aching from the intense punishment you had received, but the warmth and care in Natasha's touch brought a sense of comfort you hadn't expected.

Natasha gently cleaned your marks, applying soothing ointments and massaging where necessary. Her movements were delicate, almost reverent, as if she was trying to ease the pain she had caused.

Your eyes fluttered open, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you doing all this..."

Natasha paused for a moment, her eyes filling with a mixture of regret and determination. She took a deep breath, her voice soft and firm as she considered Maria's words.

"Talk to her. Help her understand."

"I... was born into a world of chaos..." she began, "My parents were involved in organized crime, and it was only a matter of time before I got sucked in, and before that happened, I ran away... I lived on the streets for 2 years, struggling to get by. Until a powerful organization took me in and from then on I regretted my first decision. They saw potential in me, potential to be more than just a foot soldier."

She sighed, her expression pained. "They trained me to be an assassin, ruthless and efficient. They taught me how to kill, how to manipulate, and how to use every tool at my disposal, including my own body. Part of that training was.. using control and dominance to get what I wanted. It became a part of who I was, a way of surviving in a world where weakness meant death.”

You listened, your mind forming a picture of the girl Natasha had been, forced into a life of violence and manipulation.

"But I didn't want to be just another puppet for anyone, because then I might as well have stayed with my father," Natasha continued, her voice growing firmer. "I wanted more. I wanted control over my own destiny. But leaving wasn't easy. I made a plan. I began gathering information, building connections, and identifying those within the organization who were dissatisfied. It took years, but eventually I had enough support to make my move. I staged a coup. It was bloody and brutal. I had to be ruthless. There were no second chances. Those who supported me joined me, and those who didn't... didn't survive."

She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "That night changed everything. I became the head of my own group, but it came at a cost. I lost friends, allies, people I cared about. But it was the only way to take control and build something new.”

Natasha's expression softened as she turned her gaze back to you. “I didn't want to run an organization like the others. I wanted to be different, better. I set up rules and codes of conduct. We still operated outside the law, but we had a sense of honor. We protected the weak, fought against those who exploited the weak. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than what I knew.”

She turned her gaze back to you. “And then I met you. You were different from anyone I'd ever known. You were kind, innocent, and full of life. You saw something in me that I didn't see myself. You didn't know who I was, and you treated me like a normal person. For the first time in my life, I felt something other than anger or fear. I felt...love.”

She continued, her hands now calm as she looked deep into your eyes. "I tried to keep you away from this life, to protect you from the darkness that surrounds me."

You felt tears well up in your eyes, touched by Natasha's words. "I didn't know that."

"how were you supposed to know?" Natasha looked into your eyes to see a reaction, "But you still had secrets from me," you said, your voice shaking.

Natasha nodded, her expression pained. "I know. I remember seeing you in the hangar for work. You were there, so focused and determined, and I couldn't take my eyes off you. I invited you to my house under the pretense of work, but in truth, I just wanted to be near you. I didn't just want you physically, I wanted you in every way. You were the only one I thought about, even when I was with someone else. I know that's hard to hear, but you have to understand that you changed everything for me."

She continued, her voice softening as she remembered those days. "Every time I saw you, my heart raced. You were a light in my dark world. I knew I was falling in love with you, and that scared me so much. I tried to keep my distance, but I couldn't stay away. When I finally confessed my feelings, I was terrified. I had never been so vulnerable in my life."

Natasha's face darkened with anger and fear. "And when I saw Viktor in your apartment, my heart stopped. He was sent by the former mafia to hurt you, to get to me. The moment I saw him, I knew I had to act. I couldn't let him hurt you. I would do anything to protect you, even if it meant becoming the monster I so desperately wanted to leave behind."

She took your hand and squeezed it tightly. "I know it was awful, and I'm so sorry you had to see that. But I would do it again if it meant protecting you. I love you more than anything and I can't lose you."

You felt a mix of emotions - anger, fear, sadness and love - swirling inside you. "I understand..." you said quietly, your voice full of emotion. "I understand why you did what you did. But that doesn't make it easy though."

Natasha nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry for everything, Y/N. The secrets, the punishments, the fear, the isolation, everything I've caused you. I promise I'll be honest with you from now on. No more secrets, please... I...I don't want to lose you..."

You reached out and took Natasha's hand in yours. "Okay." Natasha looked at you in surprise, a genuine smile full of hope and love. "O-Okay?"

"Yes." You looked at her with a gentle and serious look, "I'll try. But no more lies! No secrets, I want you to talk to me about everything that happens here. Both you and everyone else here."

Natasha's eyes filled with tears that she tried to suppress, she nodded frantically, "Yes...Yes, I promise you." You looked at her and saw how serious Natasha was. You nodded and Natasha got up to leave, to give you some rest. But as she wanted to turn away, she felt your hand holding hers.

Natasha understood immediately and lay down next to you. She gently pulled you into her arms and stroked your back soothingly. "Sleep now. Tomorrow will be a new day, okay?" she whispered, calming you in small, circular movements.

You sighed softly and gave in to the pleasant exhaustion that Natasha's presence brought you. Just before you fell asleep, you heard Natasha whisper softly, "You are the most important thing in my life."

But you were too tired to fully understand the words. You fell asleep in Natasha's arms, and Natasha stayed awake, her heart filled with a mixture of love and guilt, determined to do anything to regain your trust and protect you forever.

The sun shone through the large windows of the property in Spain, filling the rooms with warm light. You woke up in Natasha's arms, your bodies still close together. The closeness, the warmth and the calm of the morning made the events of the previous night seem almost like a dream.

Natasha was already awake and watching you with a gentle smile. "Good morning," she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. You blinked sleepily and returned the smile. "morning."

After breakfast, while you were sitting together in the garden, Natasha took your hand and looked at you with a mischievous smile. "I have a surprise for you."

You raised an eyebrow and smiled curiously. "I'm afraid of your surprises..."

"I want to invite you to a ball tonight," Natasha said. "It's an important social event and I want you to be by my side." You were surprised, but also excited. "A ball? I've never been to a ball before. I don't even have anything suitable to wear."

Natasha just grinned. "Don't worry. That's already taken care of."

A little later, you were in your room and were amazed when a group of stylists arrived with a variety of beautiful dresses. The stylists, who had a wonderful sense of humor and fashion, immediately brought life into the room.

"Oh my God, darling, look at this beauty!" exclaimed one of the stylists, a tall man with perfectly styled hair, when he saw you. "She's like a canvas waiting to be painted," agreed another, a shorter man with lively eyes and a wide smile.

The stylists immediately began to attend to you. Your hair was artfully pinned up, strands carefully curled and arranged in an elegant hairstyle.

"Turn around, love," one of the stylists said, gently turning you to look at your hair from all angles. "We want to make sure you look perfect from all angles."

As they worked, they chatted happily, making you laugh over and over again. "Did you hear what happened on the red carpet last week?" asked the short stylist, telling a funny story that made everyone in the room laugh.

After the hair was done, one of the stylists brought in a selection of dresses. "We have a selection here that would make any princess jealous."

You tried on several dresses while the stylists helped you and gave you tips. Natasha watched carefully the whole time and occasionally gave her opinion. "This dress makes her eyes sparkle," Natasha said, looking at you in an emerald green dress.

"Ms. Romanoff is absolutely right," the tall stylist agreed. "But I think the blue dress would look wonderful on her too." After several fittings, you found the perfect dress - a stunning floor-length dress in a deep shade of red that perfectly accentuated your figure and made your skin glow.

"Oh my God, you look like a goddess," the short stylist said, stepping back to admire you. "Ms. Romanoff, what do you think?" Natasha had to hold back from letting her mouth drop open in admiration. "She looks incredible," Natasha said, her eyes sparkling with pride and desire.

The stylists set about perfecting your makeup. They chose subtle but effective colors that emphasized your natural beauty. "A touch of blush here and some shine there," the tall stylist murmured as he carefully applied brush strokes. "Perfect."

Meanwhile, two other stylists came over and began choosing your accessories. They chose delicate earrings and a matching bracelet that complemented the dress perfectly.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Maria entered. She stopped and her eyes widened in surprise and admiration. "Wow, she's beautiful.." Natasha had to smile.

The evening arrived, and you and Natasha drove to the ball in an elegant car. The magnificent estate where the ball was held was decorated with lights and flowers, and the guests wore the finest dresses and suits.

As you and Natasha entered the hall, many heads turned to look at you. Natasha, in her elegant smoking, held your hand tightly and confidently led you through the crowd.

You felt a little overwhelmed at first, but Natasha's presence calmed you down. You introduced yourselves to various high-ranking guests, and Natasha made sure you felt comfortable and included.

Back in the ballroom, you and Natasha danced to the soft music played by the live band. But suddenly an elegant woman in a black dress approached you. She had an aura of confidence and a clear aura of past intimacy.

"Natasha," the woman said, placing a hand on Natasha's arm. "It was a long time ago." Natasha turned around and immediately recognized her ex-girlfriend, Elena. "Elena," she said coolly and pulled her hand back. "What are you doing here?"

You watched the scene and felt a slight uncertainty rising. But Natasha quickly made it clear where her loyalties lay. "Y/n, this is Elena. An old... acquaintance."

Elena smiled charmingly, but her eyes flashed with curiosity. "Oh, and who is this charming woman at your side?"

"This is Y/n,” Natasha said firmly and pulled Y/N closer to her. "My partner." Elena raised an eyebrow, "Well, I see you've finally found someone who makes you happy. Good luck to you both."

Natasha nodded just a little and then turned completely to you again. "Let's keep dancing," she said and led you back to the dance floor without even looking back at Elena.

Suddenly Natasha felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. She took a quick look at it and saw that it was an urgent call. "I have to take this call," she said apologetically to you. "I'll be right back."

You nodded understandingly. "Okay, I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime." You looked at your reflection in the mirror. How did Elena convince Natasha back then? Was she just one of those girls? Or something else?

You couldn't help but let your mind wander until you felt Natasha's hands on your shoulders again. "I can see something is going on. Please don't tell me it's because of Elena." You turned around. "And what if it is? How long has it been between you?"

Natasha studied your gaze until she had to grin. "Is someone jealous?" Your eyes stayed on hers, but she could see the frown. "It was over with her years ago. Don't worry about it... I only have you on my mind." Her hands ran down your arms.

Her lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongues mingling and swirling in an intimate dance. Your heart pounded against your chest, an artesian well coming to life inside you. Natasha slipped her hands under your dress and caressed your bare back. You couldn't help but laugh “seriously? Here?”

You leaned your head back and bared your neck, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you gasped for air. "S-S-Shit, Natasha.."

She pushed you against the cold tiled wall, grabbing your face and lifting it up so your eyes met. She kissed you again, this time slowly and deeply, your tongues wrestling and exploring each other. The heat between you grew steadily, your breaths mingling and fueling the fire that burned within you.

Slowly, Natasha's skilled hands began to wander, moving down your front and caressing the soft fabric stretched tight over your nipples.

"I want to feel every inch of you."

You fluttered your eyes shut, your body melting into the intimate embrace. Natasha seemed to embody that very quality, her firm grip and commanding presence sending shivers down your spine.

"What do you want, baby?" Natasha asked, kissing your jaw. "Do you want me to touch you? Taste you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath catching as Natasha's fingers danced tantalizingly close to your aching breasts.

Natasha grinned, her eyes shining with desire as she traced a trail of wet kisses down your neck. Her hand finally slipped under the fabric of your bra and roughly cupped a breast.

"Oh god," you moaned, your fingers clenching in Natasha's hair as the nipple hardened under the older woman's touch.

"You're so sensitive," Natasha whispered against your flushed skin. "And I'm just getting started." She teased the sensitive tip with her thumb, drawing a helpless gasp from your lips.

Then she quickly unclasped your bra and let it fall from your body, exposing your bare breasts. Instantly, your nipples tightened even more under Natasha's heated gaze. Without a second's hesitation, Natasha leaned down and took one of your nipples into her mouth.

"Oh, f-fuck!" you cried. You couldn't believe what was happening. Every thrust of Natasha's tongue, every flick and swirl sent sparks of pure ecstasy through your veins. You moaned loudly, your hands tightening in Natasha's red hair, urging her on.

With a growl of pleasure, Natasha sucked harder on your nipple, pulling it deeper into her hot, wet mouth, then released it with a pop.

"God, you taste amazing," Natasha gasped, turning her attention to your neglected other breast. Her fingers slid down your waist, exploring the soft skin of your stomach before dipping under the waistband.

Natasha's touch was electric, and you couldn't help the tremors that shook your body as your desire grew stronger. You writhed in pleasure as Natasha expertly teased your aching tips, each tug and pull sending waves of scorching heat through you, igniting your nerve endings.

Her other hand dipped beneath the elastic of your panties and she slid her fingers through the silky auburn locks that protected your core. Her fingers penetrated deeper, sliding over your swollen, wet folds as she sought and found your weeping entrance.

Natasha's touch was masterful and she knew exactly how to control your body. She slid her skilled fingers through your dripping slit and ran a deft finger over your sensitive clit, making you buck against the wet, warm invasion.

Natasha breathed heavily and slid her fingers deeper inside you, her touch slippery as she curled her fingers and caressed that inner spot no one had discovered inside you before.

Your moans intensified, the world spun around you. She began a rhythmic, relentless pace, driving her fingers in and out of your wet heat, your bodies melding in an intimate dance, an erotic ballet of pleasure. Natasha's lips found yours, consuming your moans and whimpers in a lingering kiss.

"You like this, don't you?" Natasha asked, her words hot and labored as she broke the kiss, leaving you breathless and trembling.

You nodded, unable to find your voice.

All that escaped your lips was a hungry moan as Natasha curled her fingers into your wet folds again. With each thrust, you thought you might just fall apart, that the wave engulfing you might finally crash over you.

"Oh, how you love this," Natasha whispered in your ear, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You're so fucking wet for this, you need it."

You gasped, unable to deny the truth of those words. Despite everything, you couldn't help but squirm and moan as Natasha continued her skillful assault. Her talented fingers moved in and out of your sweltering wet heat, rubbing at that inner spot that made you see God and stars alike.

"You know what to do," Natasha said, her breath hot against your ear. Her fingers continued their relentless assault on your quivering core.

Your mind swirled, overwhelmed by a whirlwind of pleasure. You felt yourself slipping deeper into blissful oblivion with each thrust of Natasha's talented fingers.

"Please!" you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... want... Please let me come!"

Natasha's lips curved into a wicked smile. "Good girl," Natasha murmured, her voice deep and sexy. Seeing your flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes, she knew she had you on the edge of arousal. She pressed firmly against your clit with her thumb and forefinger, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild.

With a final flick of her wrist, Natasha slid a third finger into your wet heat, filling you completely. You gasped and arched your back, your head resting on her shoulders.

Natasha slid her other hand ne hind your back, holding you firmly against the sink as she rhythmically plunged her fingers deep into your tight channel.

Your breathing quickened, your chest rose and fell in irregular patterns as your orgasm approached a painful climax.

"Don't hold back, Detka. Let me feel you." Natasha coaxed you, her commanding tone urging you to let go. Her movements became faster, almost frantic.

"Come on. Don't fight against it. Fall apart for me." With a strangled moan, you succumbed to the delicious burst of pleasure that coursed through your body.

Legs shaking, orgasm washing over you like a flood, your nerves tingling with the sheer force of your release. Your body spasmed as wave after wave of euphoria enveloped you, each trembling contraction pushing you to the edge of a deep abyss that threatened to swallow you whole.

And Natasha watched with wild satisfaction, her fingers never trembling as she pounded relentlessly into your wet, throbbing core.

After your intense moment, Natasha helped you compose yourself. Her eyes were still full of intensity, but also of something else. "Y/n," Natasha said seriously. "There's a plane waiting for you tomorrow. It will take you back home."

You looked at Natasha confused. "W-What? Why?" Natasha took your face in her hands. "I love you. But I don't want you to be in danger. Dreykov is here in Spain and I need to take care of him. It's safer for you if you go home."

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "But you brought me here? Why should I leave now?" Natasha sighed "My team set a trap for Dreykov. He's here in Spain now and I need to make sure he's no longer a threat. I can't leave you here while that happens."

You nodded slowly, your tears streaming down your face. "But I don't want to leave you." Natasha kissed your forehead gently. "I'll come as soon as possible. I've booked an apartment for you where you'll be safe. It's only for a short time."

In the morning, you sat quietly in the car and looked out the window. The Spanish countryside rushed past you, but your thoughts were on Natasha. You felt empty and confused, not sure what the future would bring. Maria sat next to you, concentrating on the road, but she too seemed to be deep in thought.

Suddenly Maria's phone rang. You noticed the urgent expression on Maria's face as she answered the call. "Yes?" Maria said curtly.

You looked over at her curiously, and Maria quickly changed to a serious tone. "Stop the car," she suddenly said to the driver. "Right now."

You looked at her worriedly. "What's wrong?" Maria turned to you, her eyes full of determination. "Y/n, you have to stay in the apartment, am I clear?"

Y/N nodded hesitantly. "Yes, but What happened? Maria got out of the car and looked at you with a serious look. "I can't explain it to you now. Please, trust me. Stay in the apartment and wait for Natasha.”

You nodded again, although you still felt uncertain. Maria got into another car that had suddenly appeared and drove away quickly. The original car continued its journey and you looked out the window thoughtfully.

Back in your country, you entered the luxurious apartment that Natasha had booked for you. It was breathtaking. large windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, the decor was modern and elegant. But despite the beauty of the place, you felt lonely and abandoned.

You tried to call Natasha, but every time only the voicemail answered. “Hey, Natasha. Please call me as soon as you can. I'm worried,” you said into the voicemail and hung up with a sigh.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you decided to visit your best friend Sarah. When you stood in front of Sarah's door and rang the bell, it didn't take long for her to open the door. Sarah's eyes widened in surprise and relief when she saw you.

"Oh my God, Y/n!" Sarah exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Where were you? I thought you'd been kidnapped or worse!"

You smiled weakly. "It's a long story. Can I come in?" Sarah pulled you into the living room and sat next to you, worried. "Tell me everything. What happened?"

You began to tell your story, leaving out the dangerous details and Natasha's criminal activities. "I met someone, Sarah. Her name is Natasha. She took me to another world, and it was... exciting and scary at the same time."

Sarah looked at you with wide eyes. "You just disappeared! We were so worried. Tell me about her if she's so important that you'll drop everything!”

You smiled and nodded. “She's... special. She always knows what she wants. She makes all my sexual fantasies come true... And she's just... perfect. This woman has no fat, no spots, everything... just gorgeous.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “And what does she do for a living?” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Her family... is very rich and they respect traditions... and stuff.”

Sarah shook her head. “You also think I'm the last pea, don't you? Truth, now.” A few minutes later, you and Sarah were sitting there with a bottle of wine. After all, you had told everything - about the death of the man in your apartment, Natasha's connection to the mafia and the reasons why Natasha had sent you back.

Sarah looked at you, shocked and worried at the same time. “That's... How are you??” You sighed deeply and took a big sip of wine. "I don't know. She showed me that she would do anything for me. But it's also scary how far she would go."

Sarah put a hand on your shoulder. "I understand now why you're so in love, but also why you're so scared. What are you going to do now?"

You looked out the window and thought for a moment. "I don't know exactly. I just have to trust that Natasha will come back and that we'll somehow find a way to get through all this."

After thinking about it for a while, Sarah leaned forward and smiled mischievously. "I have an idea. Why don't we have a real girls' day today? We'll go for a massage, to the hairdresser and to a club in the evening. What do you think?"

You hesitated for a moment, but then you nodded slowly. "That actually sounds pretty good. I could really use a distraction."

Sarah beamed. "Perfect! Let's get started."

Sarah dragged you from one place to another. First, you went to a spa where you treated yourselves to a relaxing massage. You could feel the tension in your shoulders slowly easing away and you sighed deeply in relief.

"This is heaven," you murmured as the masseuse skillfully eased your tension. After the massage, you headed to a fancy hair salon. There, you got your hair cut and styled while Sarah got a new hairstyle as well. You laughed and chatted with the stylists and enjoyed the pampering treatment.

In the evening, you dressed in fancy dresses and headed to an exclusive club that happened to be near your apartment. The club was located in a wealthy area of the city and was known for its elegant atmosphere and high-profile guests.

Sarah and you entered the club and were immediately greeted by the lively music and sparkling lights. You danced and laughed, leaving the worries of the day behind you and enjoying the moment.

Towards the end of the evening, as you were making your way back to the apartment, you noticed a man following you. He was charming and chatting to you, but you could see the underlying intentions in his eyes.

"It really was a great evening," the man said as you arrived at the entrance to your apartment. "Perhaps we could extend the evening a little longer?"

You smiled politely but firmly. "Thank you, but I think it's better if I go home now." The man didn't seem to accept that and took a step closer. "Come on, just one last drink."

Suddenly you heard a familiar, icy voice behind you. "I think she said no." You turned around and saw Natasha standing in front of you with sparkling eyes and a determined look on her face. The man backed away, startled.

"I think you should go now," Natasha said threateningly. The man didn't hesitate for long and hurried away. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked at Natasha.

Your relief quickly turned to anger. "Where were you? Why didn't you answer my calls?!"

Natasha sighed and stepped closer. "I couldn't answer the phone. I'm sorry." You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "You have no idea how worried I was. And now you just show up here like nothing happened?"

Your shoulders sank and you felt your anger slowly subside. "I was really scared, Natasha. I thought something had happened to you." Natasha pulled you into a tight hug, her voice soft and soothing. "I'm sorry for making you so worried..."

Finally, you let the tears flow freely and clung to Natasha. "Promise me you'll never make me so scared again." "I promise," Natasha whispered, holding you tightly in her arms. When the embrace broke, the two looked at each other. Natasha's face spoke volumes.

Your legs wrapped around Natasha's thighs and you forced your hips against hers. Natasha's lips curved into a smug grin before throwing you onto the bed.

With a playful glint in her eyes, she took off her shirt and tossed it aside. She leaned over you and ran her hands down your body to your waist, and with a deft flick of her hips, removed the remnants of your clothing. You lay before her in all your glory, your eyes wide with desire.

"You are so beautiful," Natasha purred, her voice deep and heavy with desire. You felt another surge of heat in your core as Natasha's eyes roamed over your naked body, lingering on every curve. Natasha hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her own pants, slowly sliding them down inch by inch, revealing her proud strap-on.

You looked up at the sight, suddenly fearless and excited. The very thought of taking something so impressive inside you was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure, but you didn't hesitate for a moment. You wanted it, no you needed it so much that you would risk your dignity just to get a glimpse of what this could offer you.

You stared at Natasha, your eyes fixed and full of desire. You nodded slowly, a silent expression of your approval. Natasha's grin widened, her eyes shining as she leaned in to whisper in your ear. "You don't know how much I've wanted this."

Her breath tickled your ear, making you shiver as Natasha's teeth gently bit into your earlobe, ripping a gasp from your lips.

"Is this what you want?" Natasha growled, framing your face with her strong hands and guiding you to look up at her with deep, mesmerizing eyes.

With a pinch of her lips and a roll of her hips, you forced Natasha to take the initiative and do what she wanted with you. Overcome by your lust, Natasha didn't hesitate - she took your mouth and pressed her lips roughly to your own. Your tongues met and mingled, your mouths opening wide as you pressed against each other, your wet bodies tangling.

You sucked in a sharp breath as the tip of Natasha's cock entered you, stretching you wide. Your legs tightened around Natasha and you gasped and moaned, unable to control yourself. Your skin felt like it was burning with pleasure, electric currents radiating from where they were, combining with an ache in your chest as she pushed further and further.

Natasha was all muscle and strength as she took your hips and lifted them up to her. Your throbbing clit was pressed against Natasha's hard pelvis, the dual sensation of penetration and friction sending an escalating wave straight to your soul and making your body tremble.

Your legs tightened around Natasha's waist, pulling her in deeper, urging her to take your body all inside her. The slick grip of your hip made Natasha moan as she plunged deeper into oblivion, sweat pouring down her brow. She was almost all the way inside you and the sight of your flushed skin and swollen lips made Natasha's heart race with desire.

"Please! Oh God, y-yes!" you screamed, your fingers digging into the bed sheets. Somehow the older woman managed to find even more energy, increasing her pace and grinding hard against your throbbing core until every last shred of her restraint was broken.

"F-fuc-k…!!!!" you begged, your body writhing and grinding against Natasha. She did not disappoint. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she pushed deeper and faster, determined to send you over the edge of pleasure.

As your body twitched and shook beneath her, Natasha gripped your ass and drove every inch of her rock-hard fake cock into your quivering hole as if she was trying to pierce the earth's core.

Without a moment's hesitation, Natasha wrapped her arms around your trembling thighs and held you tight as she moved in and out of your body like a piston at a dizzying, relentless pace. The wet, slick sounds of your bodies touching echoed through the small room, punctuated by your cries of delicious pleasure.

Fingernails scratched and clawed at flesh, your bodies contorted in Ecstasy. You clung to Natasha, your legs wrapped tightly around her waist as Natasha impaled you over and over, going deeper with each thrust.

“S-Soo..rough!! Fucki-ng..”You cried out between labored gasps, a string of throaty curses escaping your lips as Natasha worked your body raw. With each invasion of that glorious phallus, inch by delicious inch, your mind reeled.

The thickness, the length you could feel inside you, filled you with an intensity beyond pure pleasure. Every thought, every doubt vanished in the heat of your lust. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end.

Natasha was insatiable. Her body moved like an unstoppable machine, thrusting in and out of you with a passion that made you both feel like you were losing your minds in that moment of exquisite sensation. Sweat dripped from her skin at the intensity of your contact.

Her hips bucked wildly as Natasha thrust deep inside you, drawing a throaty gurgle from your half-open mouth. "Oh, fuck yes..!" She cursed, unable to hold back.

Your climax was building, your whole body shaking with the intense pleasure that threatened to overwhelm you. A sheen of sweat covered your body and your breathing became shallow and ragged as you felt the walls of your pussy tighten around Natasha's thrusting shaft.

You threw your head back, releasing a dull mixture of pain and pleasure that only made your impending orgasm more intense.

Natasha's pupils were wide as her fingers found your swollen clit, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger.

Your back arched, your moan an uncontrolled scream that echoed off the bathroom walls like a wounded animal.

"You're going to cum, aren't you?" Natasha growled, her voice dropping an octave with each word, sending shivers down your spine.

Your legs trembled and your teeth clenched like vices as you stared into Natasha's piercing eyes. Those eyes followed every breath, every gasp, every fluttering eyelid.

"I - Natasha! I'm close... so fucking c-close!" you whispered hoarsely, your bucking hips rolling in time with your partner's relentless thrusts.

Your nails left flesh-red streaks on Natasha's back, each stroke capturing your lover's primal animal essence. Intense musky scent bloomed from your wet connection, smearing your pierced skin as the steady rhythm swelled to a crescendo.

With a strangled cry, you reached the edge. Your entire body shuddered as waves of pleasure washed over you. Natasha's hand, expertly placed on your clit and synchronized with her thrusts, brought you over the edge.

Your body tensed, then convulsed as you exploded in a shudder of ecstasy. Your scream echoed off the tiles and reverberated through the bedroom.

Natasha watched with satisfaction as your orgasm ripped through you, her eyes half-lidded in lust. The animalistic quality of the woman before her had ignited something deep within her.

With one final eruption, Natasha thrust into you with an intensity even she hadn't expected. "Ah, s-shit... almost-" Her head fell back, the feeling of dominance an exquisite aphrodisiac. She thrust one last time , “Yebat (shit), I'm coming!" Natasha cursed with a low growl.

Natasha bucked violently, her body tensing, and she surrendered to the orgasm that had developed into a feverish frenzy. Her thrusts gradually slowed as she breathed in unison with you, still intimately connected to you.

With a deep mixture of pleasure and agony, she felt herself collapsing against your chest, her vision blurring as the powerful aftershocks pulsed throughout her body.

You remained fused together, trembling in the aftermath of your shared orgasm. Your mingled breaths came in short, sharp gasps.

The silence that spread after the stormy night was soothing and filled the room with calm. "Will you marry me?" she asked, her voice rough and serious. You blinked in surprise and looked at Natasha as if to make sure you heard her correctly. "Are you serious?" you asked, your voice quiet and trembling.

Natasha nodded and took your hand in hers. "Dreykov is gone. He's history." she said, looking you deep in the eyes. "I let half of my team go. I closed my last deals. The house in Spain is empty now, and we could-"

"Yes," you said quietly, then louder and more determined. "Yes, I want to marry you."

Natasha smiled, "Say that again..." Natasha said, making your heart beat faster. "I want to marry you," you whispered, pulling Natasha into a hug. You leaned into Natasha and felt the relief and joy wash over you.

Later that morning, you prepared breakfast together. You laughed and chatted, enjoying the normality and simplicity of the moment. The threat of Dreykov had disappeared, and you could finally live in peace.

Natasha continued. "... and those who are still here will take care of legal business. My last big business deal is done, and I have everything sorted out so we can live without worries."

You looked at Natasha admiringly. "You really thought of everything." Natasha nodded and smiled. "Yes, I wanted to make sure everything was perfect."

A few weeks later, you and Natasha were seen at a home decor store, choosing furniture and decorations for your home in Spain. You laughed and discussed colors and styles, Natasha letting you make many of the decisions.

"What do you think of this one?" you asked, pointing to a sleek but comfortable looking piece. Natasha smiled. "I think it's perfect."

Back at the house, construction workers were working on implementing the changes you had planned. You and Natasha walked through the rooms together, discussing the progress and enjoying the changes.

"I want you to feel as at home here as I do," Natasha said, squeezing your hand. You smiled happily. "I already do. Thank you for including me so much."

Meanwhile, Maria was seen still in charge of the security staff. She glanced at the screens and gave instructions, but her expression was calmer than before. The danger was over, and she could focus on ensuring safety in more peaceful times.

In the evening, you sat together on the terrace of your house, the sun slowly setting, bathing the surroundings in a warm, golden light. You held hands and enjoyed the silence and calm of the moment.

"I can't imagine anything better than this," you said quietly, leaning your head on Natasha's shoulder.

"Me neither," Natasha replied gently. "We got through everything, and now we can really enjoy our lives."

Your love was stronger than ever, and you knew that as long as you were together, you could overcome any challenge. The future was bright, and you looked to it with hope and confidence.

The End.

🏷️ TAGLIST

@kipitou @thalia-is-not-ok @queen2234 @sgm616 @dorabledewdroop @natsxwife @natashaswife4125 @loneliestafterparty @jenniferjareauwife @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @agent99galanzo

#natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha Romanoff smut

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hobicakess · 2 days

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Wonderful World — JJK One-Shot Series

SUMMARY: The world had gone to shit just like many had theorized. The living was not only fighting the dead, but they were also fighting against themselves and each other. Jeon Jungkook has been in the field by himself for months, living off of scraps, his own rules of survival, and barely enough water. Along the way, he finds a ditzy girl spoiled girl ironically Princess and her crusty white dog. He understood they'd be a handful, but he was Jeon Jungkook, and he could handle anything.

RATING: 18+ (im not the momma you are in control of what you consume.)

PAIRING: Jeon Jungkook x Bimbo!reader

CONTENT WARNING: apocalypse!au, gore, blood, ditzy!reader, angst, slow burn, eventual established relationship, jungkook is sighing every three seconds, eventual smut, crusty white dog (yes that's a warning), minor character death, named reader, corrupt dystopian society, meanie jungkook, princess is just a girl, more to be added AUTHORS NOTE: i am back in my zombie apocolyse era!!!! this is heavily inspired by zombie land because i love it sososo much. the post for this story will be in shorts pushing 1k- 3k? words and my ask box is always open to request and thoughts for this series. If you are new to my blog welcome hottie! be sure to check out my other works, you"ll love it over here xxx

Jungkook had strict rules.

Four sips of water a day, only eat when his stomach is cramped to the point of when he couldn't walk, never sleep over an hour, don't let anyone in. He didn't need extra weight slowing him down from his destination. Was he being hard on himself? Maybe. Since losing his group in an unexpected ambush all those months ago he couldn't bring himself to be softer on his habits even if he had more than enough resources to keep him alive and breathing for the year. He was guilty, and angry. Angry at himself and angry at the world for what it had come too. Despite his personal angst Jungkook refused to die holding onto the hope he would finally reunite with his six soulmates.

Another unspoken rule of his was to never walk upon the main roads. Stay away from those maniacs dressed in military clothes and those who drove military trucks. So he stuck to the shadows, camouflage into the trees with stealthy movements. Quick and quiet, never stay in one place longer than two days. He's been in here for at least a day spending that time securing the area and everything around it before he could properly set up his base in the abandoned thrift store he found. Hopefully he could get as much rest as a person could during the end of the world. As he tracked back to his base swiftly moving through the tree-line with the new finds he managed to scavenge. He stopped when he heard a squeal that didn't sound like the parasites that took over the world. Peeking through the green he saw a woman. A frown taking over his handsome features as his eyes rake her clothing.

A tiny pink cropped tank top, tight denim shorts that had jeweled pockets, ripped black fishnets and wedged heels that threw him off more than the unethical outfit. On her back was a clear backpack and inside was a tiny sleeping dog who was unaware of the life or death circumstances their owner happened to be in. Surrounding her were geeks groaning and growling, taking swipes at her. Their only objective is to eat,eat, eat.

Jungkook didn’t deal with other people, for obvious reasons but he was still the selfless Jeon Jungkook who couldn’t turn his back on anyone, especially a woman clearly in need of his help. So he quickly jumped from the trees, holding onto his crow bar tightly and as he approached the woman and the group of zombies.

Until she screeched, "You broke my nail" pulling out a knife from her thigh garter taking down all four of the dead. Breathing heavily she blew a curl from her face as she turned, jumping at the sight of Jungkook's large frame looming over her with his crowbar up as if he was ready to attack her. She squeaks gathering herself into a tiny fighting position as she points her knife at him and he notices the handle was decorated with a dark skinned hello kitty print.

“You’re literally so sexy. I’d let you kill me as long as I’m in a chokehold.” Her big brown eyes trailed to his beefy tattooed and tanned arms causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Clearing his throat he put his weapon down turning on his thick soled heels back into the ditch disappearing into the greenery. She wasn’t in any danger anymore so he wasn’t needed.

“You know it’s not very nice to leave a lady unattended in the middle of a road especially during an apco-" he was quick to grab her, shoving her down against the tree trunk. He smacked against her mouth, as a group of military men began to drive along the side of the road closest to them. His eyes met her wide ones as she blinked her wispy lashes at him. His gaze trails over the freckles that danced over her button nose, and cheeks, slight blood splatter caked there along with her forehead. She giggles quickly as he removes his hand from her mouth revealing a bright and pearly smile.

"Kinky." his lip curls in annoyance as he turns his back on her again.

“You can’t just leave us! Me and Minnie are great company.” He stopped walking when he heard the name of her dog minnie. Who's been surprisingly quiet through the whole ordeal. Looking over his shoulder at her, he then shaking his head, he continued on taking longer steps.

“Okay I get it silent and boarding, dark and mysterious, tall, tanned, and handsome.She rambled on scurrying behind him.

“Whew you know what hulk- ACK!” a thud echoed through the trees making him turn seeing her fallen to her knees in mud. She sniffles as she tries to stand on her feet, failing miserably only getting her hands dirty in the process.

"They leave me all alone, take my stuff, then I break a freaking nail because of those nasty freaks, now I'm covered in mud following around an avenger who doesn't even. . ."

She's fully sobbing now, fat tears falling down her chubby cheeks as she gives up moving. "Just strike me downnnn"

Again his selfless heart was aching as he winced. He grumbles as he stomps towards her reaching his own hand out for her to take, after all this he couldn't find it in himself to just leave her not now. She sniffles as she looks up at him, then stares at his hand. With another pretty smile she takes it, letting him pull her upright, allowing her to rub her muddy hands on his black tank top with a defeated sigh.

“Thanks Thor.”

Huffing he began walking again this time slower so she wouldn't lose him. As he gets to the brick wall that seperates the forest from the store. She stares up at it and swallows hard. “How are we gonna get up there?”

Rolling his eyes Jungkook pulls his backpack off of his back, throwing it over the wall. He reaches towards her and she gasp, “You are not throwing my precious Minnie over that wall!” Stepping back from him a pout set on her lips. He shrugs and begins to climb up, leaving her there to watch as he disappears over the wall. Pouting and huffing, she removes her backpack from her back, strapping it in the front just in case she falls on her ass. “I'm way too pretty for this”

Scaling the wall she walked along it ignoring Hulks loud huffs and tapping of his boots. That's when she found a hole there big enough for her to fit through happily making her way through.

Jungkook might just leave her there on the other side of the wall. Hopefully she'll use whatever's there in her brain to find her way over the wall with her crusty white dog who he wished he could sleep like. He jumps at the tap on his shoulder turning to her standing behind him hands behind her back as she gave him a closed lip smile puffing the apples of her cheeks rocking back and forth on her wedges. “Guess what hulky.”

He raises a pierced eyebrow as she points in the direction she came from. “Found a hole in the wall!! You didn't even have to climb over silly.”

The happiness in her face fell as Jungkooks face hardened. Storming over to the said hold, cursing. He could have sworn he sweep the whole perimeter. How could this have gotten under his nose? He turns back to you standing pouty and confused. Since the first time meeting him Jungkook opens his mouth to speak.

“Good job princess” his voice deep and hoarse from not using it for months.

"OMG how'd you know my name" She smiles practically bouncing on her feet from the praise and his attention, twirling on a piece of her hair like a school girl with a crush. Shaking his head he turned back to fix the wall.

Inside of the thrift store, Jungkook listened quietly to her ramble about her love for thrifting and how she would rather thrift than online shop. Then he watched her get teary eyed again over not being able to online shop anymore. “It's just not fair!!! Like I was living the most barbie dream girl life, ya know?”

Accepting the tissue he handed to her staring at the sleeping dog in her lap. “Then bam the Internet shuts off, then boom my freaking neighbor tries to eat me.”

“Like I'm just a girl! I'm not fit for this at all.” Blowing her nose into the tissues finishing her tantrum while Jungkook debated on what to say. “I watched you knife four geeks by yourself, I think you're doing pretty good.”

“ Really?”

“Really?”

She giggles sniffing, as she held out her hand. “I’m Princess Marie sorry for the late introduction ‘s very rude.

Clasping his hand into hers, “Jeon Jungkook. Don't worry about it too much.”

His gaze drifted to her bloody broken nail.

“Let's clean this up, kay?”

Eagerly she nodded dark curls bouncing.

“Mmkay kookie”

Jungkook wouldn't admit it out loud but being in the presence of another human being that wasn't trying to kill him was nice. He knew that princess and her crusty dog would be a handful but he was willing to deal with it. Plus he missed being called by his favorite nickname.

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 13 hours

Text

Quality Father-Son Time

Aegon II Targaryen x Targaryen!reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra) x Aemond Targaryen

YAY!!! I get to do ANOTHER drabble based on the works of @maidragoste and the series The Queen and Her Husbands. (thanks so much, hun :))

I had to write this after seeing the season premier and seeing Aegon spend time with little Jaehaerys (before that one scene I won't get into because it made it all the more tragic and upsetting).

*Also go support the original writer of this series.

Summary: Aegon is woken up early in the morning by his son so they can go dragon riding for the day.

Content Warnings: Allusions to Blood and Cheese, and some residual trauma from losing a child/children. Also some brief suggestive content with reader and Aemond (because I couldn't help myself and had a feeling the reader would take this moment to spend time with her first husband while her second husband is busy bonding with his son)

It was early in the morning. The sun hadn't even begin to make its daily ascent into the sky, and most of the Red Keep was still abed, including the king and queen as well as their children.

Well...almost all the children.

There was one little soul up already, dressed and eager to get the day started.

Daeron eagerly scampers into his parents' bedroom. "Kepa! Kepa! Wake up, we have to go!"

You and Aegon were soundly asleep, slowly being woken up by Daeron nudging the bed, trying to get his father up and going. Aemond wasn't there as he was currently in Oldtown resolving matters over there, though he was due to return sometime today.

"Kepa. Kepa!" Daeron starts whining.

"Your son is awake, husband," you mutter in your sleepy state. Aegon just groans a bit and turns over putting an arm around you, "before sunrise he is YOUR son," he mutters with the intent of going back to sleep.

"Kepa! KEPA!" Daeron starts pulling on the blankets but ended up falling backwards in his zeal. Finally having enough, Daeron pounced on his father, "Kepa, you promised!" Aegon was effectively roused from sleep, opening his eyes to see the stern look on his son's face.

Aegon knew already what the boy was talking about, "Alright, Daeron, alright. I'm up, I'm up," he sleepily assures turning on his back and rubbing his eyes. "Yeah!" Daeron exclaims with glee, climbing off the bed.

Right on cue, a couple nursemaids walked in through the open door. "Prince Daeron," the older maid exclaims, before hastily bowing, realizing the king was already up "oh forgive us, your Grace," she hastily apologizes, "the prince just ran off without notice we didn't-" "It's quite alright," Aegon assures, stretching a bit, "the young prince wished to start the day. Up before the sun it seems." "Yes, your Grace."

"Daeron, you go and break your fast. I'll join you in a moment," Aegon says, patting Daeron on the head before the boy scampered off out the room. "See to it that he actually does get some food in his belly," Aegon orders the maids. "Of course, your Grace," the maids quickly bow and go follow Daeron to the kitchens.

"What exactly did you promise Daeron that he must ruin our peaceful morning so early?" you ask, eyes still closed as Aegon leaves the bed to gather his clothes for the day. "I told him I would take him flying on Sunfyre," he tells you as he starts to dress, "We've had a busy week, and haven't had the time. I told Daeron if he was patient and on his best behavior I would take him flying. He made good on his promise. Now I must make good on mine."

"The reward of dragon flying was surely a great motivator," you say, turning a bit in the bed, "I wonder why Daeron was extra considerate this week."

Aegon chuckled at that statement, having finished putting on the rest of his riding ensemble. "Don't forget we have afternoon tea later today," you tell him, "Jaehaera has spent all week organizing this little event, and it would break her heart if her father was absent for it." "I wouldn't miss it for the world," Aegon assures, "We'll be back before then," he leans into the bed and pressed a kiss on your temple, "give my regards to Aemond should he return before Daeron and I do."

"Of course," you nod, slowing going back to sleep for a couple more hours before you start your own day.

After a quick light meal to break their fast, Aegon and Daeron walked to the wheelhouse which had been set up surprisingly fast for the king and his son. "Hurry, Kepa, hurry!" Daeron insists as he tries to jump in, only to tumble back from the steps. Lucky for him, Aegon was quick to catch his son, "whoa, slow down, boy," Aegon light scolds, getting Daeron in, "there's no rush, the dragons won't be going anywhere without us."

"I can't help it, Kepa," Daeron says, "I just really want to go flying, I've been waiting all week." "I know you have," Aegon says with a smile as he lifts Daeron and sets him on his knee as he takes a seat in the wheelhouse, "that's why you've been so good this week. Haven't been up to any mischief, yes?" He boops his son on the nose, making Daeron giggle in response, Aegon giggling back. As happy an occasion this was, Aegon found his mind starting to linger on more melancholy thoughts, though he wouldn't show it for the sake of his child.

It was moments like these that would make Aegon think of similar moments he had with Jaehaerys. How he would hold the boy in a similar position as Daeron whenever they made trips to the dragon pit to go riding on Sunfyre. Aegon tried not to think about those times, as the loss of his past children was still not something he has fully gotten over, and likely never will. Even if he will still get upset about it at times, he'll choose to think about the children he has who are still healthy and alive.

"Can we have Sunfyre do tricks in the air while flying?" Daeron asks, bringing Aegon out of his thoughts, "I don't think that's such a good idea, Daeron," Aegon tells him, "we can get him to breathe fire while flying, that might be better." "Okay, Kepa," Daeron nods.

Before either of them knew it, the wheelhouse had stop. They had made it to the dragon pit.

Daeron was first to jump out, eagerly running towards the pit, with Aegon trailing not far behind. The dragon keepers greet both the king and prince as they walk inside.

Daeron practically sprints towards Sunfyre the moment he catches site of the golden dragon. "Hold on, son," Aegon calls out, placing a hand on Sunfyre's snout the moment the dragon lowers his head towards his rider. Aegon smiles. Though Sunfyre still bore the scars from past battles waged before Daeron was born, the dragon was still a beauty to behold.

"Kepa, come on! Let's go flying." "Alright, alright," Aegon concedes, helping his son up onto the saddle before mounting the beast himself. Once Sunfyre was out of the dragon pit, Aegon gave the command and they were soon flying.

Daeron had a wide grin on his face the whole time during the take off. Aegon couldn't help but grin himself, seeing how excited his son was to be doing this with his father.

------meanwhile-------

You had decided to properly wake up and begin your day. Daeron excluded, the rest of your children were probably still sleeping. The maids would wake them soon so as to have them break their fast and start their morning lessons.

You half expected to for food to be set up on the table already for yourself. It was, but to your surprise you heard splashing sounds in the water closet. You frown a bit, having not expected Aegon to return so soon.

You take a peak inside and to your shock and amazement, it was your OTHER husband who had just settled into the copper tub, steam rising from it.

"Aemond!" you exclaim, getting the prince's attention. You run over, kneeling at the side of the tub so as to give your husband a kiss. "I though you weren't to return till later in the day," you tell him, "much later." "We finished early," Aemond admits, "I...I didn't wish to wait to return to see my family again." "I missed you too, Aemond," you give him another kiss, "We all missed you." "If that is so, where is my brother?"

"He took Daeron dragon riding today," was your answer, "I thought you would've run into the two of them while you were riding back on Vhagar." "Hmm, it appears we missed each other," Aemond says, slight smirk on his face, "although, that would give the two of us time to each other." "...I suppose so," you say with a smirk of your own, "the children will be waking soon, though, and I know our sons will be eager especially to see their father back in the Holdfast. Not to mention we have Jaehaera's afternoon tea later in the day." "Well then," Aemond turns your way, a wicked look in his eye, "we best make this a quick one, wouldn't you say, dear wife?"

----------meanwhile-------------------

"Watch me Kepa!" Daeron gleefully says, taking both his hands off the saddle and stretching his arms to sides to feel the wind rush as Sunfyre flew a little higher.

Aegon instinctively holds onto his son, fear lingering in the back of his mind that Daeron could fall, even though the boy was well secured to the saddle.

Nothing was going to happen, Aegon keeps mentally saying to himself. Nothing is going to happen. Daeron is not Jaehaerys, nor is he Maelor or Daenera. They may be gone but his son was still alive in the present. And Seven willing, it was going to stay that way even after Aegon and his wife and brother have long passed from this world.

Aegon started thinking back to when he and his wife started taking Daeron to Small Council meetings as a baby shortly after the death of his twin, how you and him were scared that something terrible was going to happen to your child if you took your eyes off him for even a second. Those were admittedly trying times, more so for Aegon, and even though you and your husband had managed to heal from the loss, the fear that something like that could happen again still lingered in the back of the king's mind every now and then.

It got a little easier as time went on. NEVER easy, but a little more bearable.

Seeing how high they were in the sky in the present, Aegon took this time to bond some more with his son, taking this time to say the things he never got to say with Jaehaerys, "see all that before you, Daeron?" he asks, to which Daeron nods in response.

"All this: King's Landing, the Crownlands, the Riverlands, Stormlands, the Reach, the North...the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. One day it will all be yours to rule the day you sit the Iron Throne." "When will that happen, Kepa?" Daeron asks, looking at his father with curiosity.

Aegon took some time to put his words together before he made his answer, "look to the sun," he nods in the direction the sun was currently in, "a king's time as ruler is like the sun. It rises, and then it falls. One day, Daeron, the sun will set on my time. BUT it will rise again, with YOU as the new king."

"And all this will be mine?" Aegon nods in response, "it will. But it will be some time before then. You still have much to learn. But, we shall not worry over such things today."

The two continue their flight. Aegon looks to the sun to see it was almost high noon. They would need to land soon so as to make it back to the Red Keep and prepare themselves in time for Jaehaera's tea party.

Aegon directs Sunfyre back to the Dragon pit. Daeron was a little sullen having to end their flight time so soon, but Aegon picks Daeron up and carried the boy back to the wheelhouse, assuring him there will be loads of times to go flying again. And, when Daeron is a little older, he would have ample opportunities to fly his own dragon without his father's supervision.

By the time Aegon and Daeron returned to the Red Keep and bathed and dressed in new clothes, the afternoon tea had already been set up in the gardens. Jaehaera was leading the social event. Among her guests were her cousins and siblings as well as her stepmother, her grandmother, and her uncle Aemond as well as your little brother Aegon the Younger.

Egg, it should be noted, had a look of admiration as Jaehaera directed the servants to pour the tea and serve the finger foods.

Jaehaera had the biggest smile on her own face when she saw her father Aegon and Daeron join them at the table. "Perfect timing, husband," you say with approval as the tea was served, "I trust the two of you had a good outing."

"It was good," Aegon assures, placing Daeron in his chair, patting him on the head before greeting the rest of the children, giving Jaehaera a kiss on the head, and welcoming his brother back after his trip from Oldtown.

Taking a seat, Aegon gazed at the whole of his family as they sipped their tea and exchanged pleasantries with one another.

This was his family, he thinks to himself, small smile on his face. They were here, alive, happy, and healthy. Seven willing, it will stay that way, even as their family continues to grow. Seven willing, there will be more happy times like this ahead in the near future, more enough to eclipse the sad times of the past.

#hotd #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jaehaera targaryen #the queen and her husbands #Hope I did well with this one

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natalievoncatte · 9 hours

Text

Kara’s phone skittered across the table, and she looked away from the movie. Alex was with her on the couch and they had a box of cheap rosé and were watching Mean Girls, Alex’s pick. They hadn’t had a sisters night in ages, and Kelly had Esme with her and was visiting James for the weekend; Alex had stayed behind to keep an eye on things with J’onn and Kara.

Kara’s phone was supposed to be off, but she couldn’t help herself. Alex scowled at her as she reached for it.

“Kara,” she muttered, “you deserve a night off.”

“I have it on Do Not Disturb. It’ll only go off if it’s one of my favorites calling.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Knowing you, that’s everyone you know.

“It’s actually just you and Lena,” Kara said, absently.

Alex looked at he enigmatically. There was a knowing in her eyes that made Kara feel a little hot and a little squeezed, paranoid that Alex observed something she had not.

It was a series of texts, not a call.

Kara, can you come over?

Nvm you must be with Alex

But if you do the balcony door is open

It’s not important I just need to see you

Kara bit her lip.

“What did Lena say?”

Kara glanced up. “I didn’t say it was Lena.”

Alex stared at her, and Kara squirmed a little. There as a hint of a smile but a touch of sadness in her eyes, and she let out a little sigh.

“She said it’s not important but she needs to see me.”

Alex sighed. “You should go.”

“She said it’s not important,” said Kara.

“But she said she needs to see you. You won’t be able to relax all night until you know why. You can go. I’m going to crash here, I’m not driving. Go, Kara.”

Kara nodded and stood, wondering why her palms were sweaty. She put on her suit and stepped into the air, making a brisk but calm flight to Lena’s place, making sure not to create any sonic booms.

When she lighted on the balcony it was indeed open. Kara paused and listened, locking on the steady beat of Lena’s heart and breathing. She was in her bedroom.

Passing through the dark penthouse, Kara found Lena in the bed, curled up in a nest of blankets and pillows. She was wearing an oversized hoodie with her hands tucked up in the sleeves and had a box of tissues near her head. When she looked up, Kara realized she was wearing a battered and threadbare Midvale High Mathletes Club sweatshirt that was two sizes too big for her, because it was actually Kara’s.

Kara moved to the side of the bed. “Lena? What’s wrong?”

Lena didn’t meet her gaze. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you at sister night.”

“You should have been at sister night.”

There as a curious look in Lena’s big, soft eyes, at once warm and heartbroken, like she’s both gained and lost in a single moment.

“I couldn’t tonight.”

Kara let her suit dissolve. She was still in her lounge clothes, a pair of baggy sweats and a button-up tank that left her arms bare. She sat down on the bed and leaned towards Lena.

“I’m okay,” Lena said.

She’d been crying, her eyes red rimmed and wet, painful tracks left by tears and her nose raw. Lena rarely let anyone see any kind of vulnerability like this.

“You don’t look okay, Miss Luthor. This looks like a job for Supergirl.”

“I don’t want Supergirl, I want Kara. Can you stay.”

Kara said, “Yes,” without hesitation, and super speed typed a text to Alex, then turned off her phone.

After a brief hesitation, Kara climbed onto Lena’s huge California King bed. There as plenty of room in the middle for them both. Lena lifted the covers and Kara settled in with her.

Carefully, she pushed the hood back, and tucked away a few stray dark curls from Lena’s eyes as she shimmied closer, curling her arm around Lena’s shoulder. Their bodies instinctively fitted together as they had many times before, Lena carefully cradled in Kara’s powerful arms. Kara could feel her quick breaths and the flutter of her heart beneath her ribs. In her embrace, Lena felt delicate and exotic, a treasure to be handled with utmost care.

“Want to talk about it?” said Kara.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Yes.”

Kara wasn’t sure how long she laid there or how long Lena clung to her; she didn’t really care. Finally Lena spoke.

“This is the day my mom died.”

Kara let out of a soft “Oh,” and held her just a little tighter, carefully exacting just a touch more pressure until Lena calmed again.

“It’s normally this bad but some years it’s just too much, it’s… it hurts. Why does it hurt so much?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sometimes I still have The Dream.”

Kara tensed, not because Lena didn’t explain, but because Kara knew without being told. Kara had The Dream, too. The only dream that was a Dream, the only nightmare that you can’t wake up from because the waking is the nightmare.

Lena shook her head, and her voice broke something in Kara, shattering it into a thousand pieces that scattered on the crystal floor of the hidden places within her.

“I can’t even remember what she looked like.”

Kara ran her hand softly over Lena’s head and felt fresh tears hot on her neck.

“Lillian took everything from me. Pictures, home movies, all of it. Sometimes I can remember her singing but it’s like I can feel it more than hear it.”

“I remember,” Kara said softly, “when I started thinking in English. I had to. It was the only way I could write without messing up the grammar.”

“Do you remember Krypton?”

“Mostly. It’s hazy. Things from before my powers are like that.”

“Can you… can you tell me about it?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just… I’m trying not to think about how much I want my mom.”

Kara nodded and began telling Lena whatever popped into her head, without rhyme or reason or really meaning to go anywhere with it. She told her about Argo City and excursions to gather mineral samples, about the opera and museums and festivals, about the food and music. She told Lena what it was like to visit other worlds, to stand on the shores of lakes of molten nickel and watch a supernova unfolding.

She barely noticed when Lena fell into a light sleep, curled up in her arms. She clung to Kara, hands fisted into her back at first, then relaxing as she dozed.

Eventually, light peeked around Lena’s blackout curtains. Lena had slept through the night. Kara should probably have withdrawn or gone to make breakfast, but she stayed, enjoying Lena’s scent in Lena’s huge bed, feeling her breathing against her and just feeling this curious relief that she at least knew she was safe, truly safe.

“You’re here,” Lena murmured as she woke up.

“Of course I’m here”, said Kara.

“I like having you here,” Lena mumbled.

“I like having me here.”

Lena sighed. “Are you real? Am I dreaming this too?”

Kara snorted. “Do you dream about me a lot?”

There was a too-long pause before Lena said, “yes.”

“What kind of dreams? Am I badass in them?”

“Something like that.”

Kara smiled. “Want me to grab us breakfast?”

“No.”

Kara’s stomach rumbled, but Lena ignored it. She still had her arms around Kara’s waist and squeezed hard, pulling her close. There was desperation in it. Kara sucked in a sharp breath, even as she returned the embrace.

“Hey,” Kara said softly, “I’m right here, I’m not leaving.”

“Okay.”

Kara swallowed, hard. Lena looked up at her and Kara’s heart did a flip. She was so soft here in the morning light, vulnerable in a way that no one else ever saw. Every fiber of her being screamed at Kara to make it better, protect her, kiss her.

Wait, what?

Kara blinked. Lena was staring at her lips, pupils wide and eyes dark.

There had been a moment like this before. When Kara came back from that awful place, ripped free from its darkness, when it felt like Lena was the whole universe and Kara had been locked in by her gravity, pulled toward a singularity, yanked away from it by her fathers voice as she leaned in…

“I want you to stay,” Lena said, each word a tiny whisper puffed against Kara’s lips.

Kara kissed her.

It wasn’t a Big Damn Kiss. It wasn’t one where the camera spun and the music swelled. It was barely there at all, a faint brushing of lips, an invitation left to wait, breathless, for an answer.

When Lena kissed her back it was slow and passionate but reserved, lips pressed on lips, followed by a tiny tug on Kara’s bottom lip, the signature that competed the message.

Kara moved delicately, leaving a pause with each moment, but Lena offered only invitation.

“Is this okay?” Kara asked.

Lena grasped fistfuls of Kara’s shirt, squeezing so hard that her knuckles went white and her hands trembled.

“Please,” she whispered. “Stay.”

“I’ll never leave,” Kara whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #grief #shared trauma #trauma bonding #cuddling #quiet Supercorp #emotional intimacy

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lokideservesahug · 2 days

Text

Love in 3D

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x reader. Part of this Mall AU collab with @

☆ -idiots in love | fluff | comedy | smau + written ☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Warnings: A teensy bit suggestive at a few points, Logan and reader have crushes on each other but are super oblivious, mention to Oscar + his love intrest in the series (it's like a multiverse!)

Notes: I took liberties with what films were showing so it doesn't reflect their actual release date or showing time irl. A special thanks to @ham1lton for allowing me to be apart of this, brainstorming with me and beta-ing my work (you're amazing and ily <33 :D).

Summary:When you go to the cinema to watch a film that a friend of yours suggested, the last thing you expected to do was to develop a crush on a certain American worker (or be handed an excuse to come back). Or alternatively, when you keep on going back to the cinema, it's because you're just a massive cinephile...right?

Slight prelude here

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Now when a friend told you to visit the cinema because you just "had to see this new film, it's so...you!" you didn't think much of it. You had avoided looking at reviews for it online and excused the visit as a means to treat yourself, especially with how hard you've been working recently. After taking a short journey into the centre of town, you traverse to the movie theatre. You walk through the towering glass doors and are suddenly enveloped by the comforting atmosphere. The low key, warm lighting bouncing off of the harsh crimson furniture in all directions makes you feel almost at home when paired with the low mumble of families waiting to see films and discussing ones they'd just viewed.

The atmosphere almost makes you feel drowsy so unsurprisingly, you wholeheartedly believe you are living a dream when you walk up to the counter and the most gorgeous man ever stands before you. His green eyes meet yours in a friendly encounter and you give him a quick one over. Your eyes scan from the bottom of his worn out, white trainers to his stained, blue t-shirt (was that butter splotched in the middle?) and even to his long blonde/brownish hair - that clearly hadn't been cut in a while as it swoops over his face, making him look like a prince-.

Somehow, your brain manages to coherently string together a thought that isn't focused on the man in front of you as you ask for "One ticket to see ‘Cats’ please." Yet as soon as the words leave your lips, you're back to daydreaming about the innocent cinema worker behind the counter. You've never seen him before because you're sure you'd have noticed. But then again, you were in the middle of town so of course you don't know everyone. How foolish. You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice him softly asking you a question.

Your eyes widen in horror for a moment. Oh no. What did he say? Eager to only please him, you tilt your head and utter out a timid "Yes?" which sounds as confused as you feel. You glance down at his nametag as a means to hide your confusion and are met by the sight of a neat, embossed ‘Logan' in the centre. However, the answer must have been right because the man’s, Logan you suppose, face splits out into a toothy grin and he mutters a few positive sounding adjectives in response.

“Great. I'll get one ready for you now." He drops to a squat and rummages behind the counter as you furrow your brows. Did you just sign up for something? He pops his head back up from below the counter and you give him a small smile (that feels really quite uncertain with your fate. "Can I get a name for the card, please?" You respond with your name and his soft smile and compliment make your cheeks feel warm. He hands the card to you and you feel your breath catch in your throat at the brief contact of his warm fingers on yours.

"Have a great day and enjoy the film." You turn to mush at his sweet smile and begin to long to see only that sight until your dying day. You utter out a small "You too." and at that moment, you finally regain consciousness and want the ground to suck you up. Logan laughs melodically at your slip up which makes you smile at his laughter. "So sorry. I didn't mean that... I was just distracted!" This causes his laughter to die down as he squints his eyes and one side of his mouth curls up as if he was beginning to smirk. You shoot him a small smile and swiftly pivot and speed for an exit this time with a small "Have a nice day. Thank you."

As you finally reach your seat, you look down at the ticket and card he gave you. Huh? The tickets are much cheaper than you expected. Maybe you'd have to come back again sooner (and you suppose the cute workers aren't any deterrent). You place the ticket on the arm rest and your attention is drawn straight to the card he also placed in your hand. This must be what you unknowingly agreed to. You shake your head, cursing (and praising) your mindless state earlier as you look at the month long cinema pass lying in your hands. Well maybe you would have an excuse to come back soon after all.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logan stares at the man opposite him, gently tapping on the counter. The American had never acutely noticed just how non-existent his love life truly is. Well, until he met you, now he finds that every moment when you weren't blessing his shifts to be dull and in his books, futile.

Oscar's words cut through his thoughts. "Well, I think you can try and make it more obvious? I've heard some people give discounts to the customers they really like. Maybe you can try doing that?"

Logan looks down and blushes. "I uh... I've already given her a staff discount." Oscar lets out a slow exhale. "Damn... you never-" "Yeah I know." Logan has only just accepted that he has feelings for the Y/H/C girl, let alone broken work policy... Himself a few weeks ago would have gone into cardiac arrest at just the thought.

"Damn, you must be whipped." Oscar's laugh at the end makes Logan break into his own set of laughter. “Well, no…” Oscar reaches for a roll from the floor to ceiling cupboard and pivots with a ‘Hearty Italian’ roll in his hand whilst simultaneously raising an eyebrow at the blonde man, making Logan laugh in resignation. “Yeah, something like that." The Aussie grins at his friend's newfound carefree nature. It has been a long time since Oscar has seen Logan this happy and the two of them have known each other a very long time. Oscar slices the sub as Logan begins his soliloquy.

“But you don't get it, Osc. She’s just… I’ve never seen such a gorgeous woman before . I mean the other day I told her a joke and she actually laughed.” Oscar smiles and mutters “no way” in the same manner in which you’d speak to a child. “And when she laughed I swear it was a taste of what heaven is like!” Oscar hums in acknowledgment as he mindlessly flicks a handful of ham slices onto the bread. “And last week, she bought some popcorn, which I couldn't charge her for of course, but she had both caramel and butter together. I’ve never met anyone else that does that!” Logan releases a dreamy sigh as Oscar opens the large toaster door and slides the roll in.”She’s perfect Osc. I think we were made to be together.”

"Well," the Aussie begins whilst turning round and getting the sandwich from the toaster. "I say if she comes back then you shoot your shot. I mean who was it that was complaining the other week about their 'truly abysmal love life' ?" Logan looks down and chuckles. "Yeah man I mean it still is that bad but..." Oscar smiles in acknowledgement, he has his own struggling love life and completely understands Logan's dilemma.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You sigh as you fall back on the sofa. “So let me get this straight. You decided that the best course of action was to just go to his work several several times a week.” You turn and squint your eyes at your best friend's words. “Well no but…” She rolls her eyes at you. “But what Y/N/N? Because it sounds an awful lot like you're just trying to deny your feelings for him but still seeking out his company if it's for a few moments.”

You stay silent as you ponder her words. “I'm just worried about you getting hurt from this. I mean he's probably not even that cute.” You shake your head at her. “Oh no, he really is.” She tilts her head with a questioning look. “It's just… He's so sweet. He always helps the elderly customers and is such a gentleman. Oh and don't get me started on how good he looks. I mean his eyes are such a gorgeous, enigmatic mix. And Oh those arms. You should see them when they fle-”

“Oookay. I get it Juliet.” You sigh in longing at just the thought of Logan. “We will put a pin in that for later because there is a lot to unpack there.” You give her a tight-lipped, thankful grin. “So, moving on, did you hear what happened to Melanie last week?” You try to push the thought of your favourite American to the back of your mind as you focus on the latest gossip of your friend. Besides, lack of boy talk should do you some good for once.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Oscar slides the signature sub across the counter. "Thanks, mate." Logan smiles and unwraps the warm sandwich and takes a bite. Logan groans at the familiar taste. "Damn it's not that wonderful mate." Logan shakes his head at Oscar's words. And looks around quickly, piquing Oscar's interest. The older of the two leans forward and speaks in a hushed whisper. "I came in last week and that new employee made my sandwich...." Logan pulls a face that can only be described as depicting pure, unadulterated disgust. Oscar only laughs in response. "It's not funny mate, I didn't know a sandwich could taste that horrible and I have the simplest thing ever!" Oscar shakes his head and sports a distasteful expression at just the thought of his co-worker. But doesnt make any effort to hide the expression as he begins to speak. "Yeah well, at least you have a good meal now." Logan tilts his head "Yeah I guess so." He glances at the clock and curses. "I'm going to be late! Thanks Osc, catch you later." Logan scrambles out of the food court towards the escalator and Oscar is left in historical laughter at his best friend's frenzied, pining state.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

When Saturday roles around, you decide that unsurprisingly, you are going to visit the mall you have found yourself frequenting recently. Surprisingly though, you walk through the doors with good, honest intentions today. You have a film in mind that you are desperate to see and you take a small amount of pride in the fact that you are visiting for the cinema’s true purpose rather than going just to ogle the cute American behind the counter. Over the past few weeks, you have seen a multitude of reruns of old, black and white films, only shown a handful of times all the way to new kids films just as an excuse to visit your favourite worker (not that you'd ever admit that of course).

However, as you approach the counter, eyes scanning all of the workers' space, you can’t seem to find Logan. Instead, you are met by the sight of a slightly older, quite attractive, blonde man (that is unsurprisingly very much taken as you gather from the shiny gold band on his weathered hand). As if he notices your wandering eyes, he asks “Anything wrong love?” Your eyes snap to meet his. “Sorry?” He gives you a friendly smile, “You just look quite distracted, that’s all.” You shake your head. “Sorry I just…” the words seem embarrassing now that you think of them. Oh yeah, sorry sir I only visit because I’ve got a massive crush on one of the workers here and I’m just really upset that you aren't him.

You pull yourself out of your thoughts and address the man - a quick glance down at his name badge informs you that he is Jenson, a senior manager at the cinema. You nearly grin at the sweet badges pinned to his landward, hanging next to the badge; a multitude of film quote badges and oddly a few bakery item pins? How random. You focus your attention back on the man. “Can I have one ticket to go and see ‘Challengers’ please?” Jenson nods and types on the digital keypad in front of him. You reach down and rummage around in your bag to try and find the cinema card (and your payment card of course). When your fingers find the edge of the cards, you pull them out and hold the cards stationary in the air, level with the worker’s screen. “I have this cinema card that you can scan.” Jenson’s eyes widen, he gives you a quick look over before his mouth splits into a toothy grin. “Ah!” is all he says before he gently takes the cards and swipes them one after another in the card slot.

His expression makes you feel as if you’ve been left out of something important but you don’t have much time to linger on the thought before Jenson is walking away from where he stood with a small promise that he’ll return shortly. You rock backwards on the balls of your feet in suspense, maybe the card didn’t work? You look around, a small part of you is hoping to somehow catch a glimpse of your newfound crush but to no avail. The mechanical sound of tickets being printed breaks you from your scanning of the lobby. Jenson places the tickets and the two cards back in your hand. Yet surprisingly, he also slides a large bag of popcorn in your direction. You give him a questioning glance. Was this yet another thing you’d managed to agree to buy without realising? Jenson only gives you another of those wide smiles before answering “He talks about you a lot. And you're the only one to have bought one of these cards. Well, unless you’re Bertie but you certainly don’t look 80 years old.”

His words make you blush and huff out a small laugh. You pocket your cards, grab the bag of popcorn and walk away muttering a small thanks. You find your seat, mind whirring over what is left in front of you. On your left armrest is a bag of caramel and butter popcorn, paired with the memory of Jenson’s words. “He spoke about you” Your cheeks warm at the thought of Logan possibly reciprocating your feelings. And then you fully settle into your seat, prepared to finally focus on the screen, you can’t help but notice that the price on the ticket is higher than usual… How odd…

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Meanwhile, Logan's phone:

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logansargeant

Logansargeant: A nice weekend off for once

Liked by Oscarpiatri, Alexalbon and 46 others

View all 12 comments

Oscarpiatri: mate you ditched me for a golf weekend?

↳Logansargeant: Sorry Osc, I just needed to get my thoughts together

↳Osarpiastri: ooh. Is this about **********

↳Logansargeant: Shush mate, you can make it less obvious.

↳Alexalbon: Oooh who or what is **********?!?🤨

↳Oscarpiastri: 🤐 i’m afraid i’m sworn to secrecy

↳Alexalbon: Booo. You’re no fun

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

For the entirety of the day, Logan has been staring at the door each time it opens. At every worship of the automatic doors on the carpet, his head whips up, hoping to find you there, only to be met with a gaggle of 40 year old women or a party of school children. Logan isn't even afraid to admit the reason behind his peculiar behaviour. He has missed his “staring at Y/N time” as Oscar has so fondly nicknamed it.

After the text he received from Jenson, he can't help but feel a buzz of hope linger in his stomach. He's seen you many times before but the fact that you're coming even when he's not here and possibly looking for him (Jenson's words, not his)? Just the thought makes Logan grin. He already had today planned out in his head. You'd walk through those doors with your regular smile and come up to the counter. You’d then ask to see another random film that was showing at a later point today. He’d flash you a smile and when you’d go to pay, he’d stop you and insist that it was his duty to pay for a woman, especially on the first date. You’d be left in wordless awe and would beg him to let you repay him to which he’d only respond by swooping you into an eager ki-. His daydream is interrupted by soft coughing.

His head whips up only to be met with the familiar shade of your eyes which had plagued his dreams for many nights. You give him a soft smile and all of Logan’s previous “plan” exits his mind as he just gets lost in your eyes. He smiles back at you and lets out a breathy “Hi…” Your grin widens. “Hi Logan, how are you today?” Gosh even you just saying his name makes butterflies erupt in his stomach. He readily answers your question and the two of you fall into eager small talk.

It almost hurts you to have to pull out of the conversation but you find yourself needing a distraction from the cute Yank on the other side of the counter. “So do you have any new film recommendations today?” Logan lets out a contemplative hum. “None that you haven't already seen.” You visibly deflate at his words. In the past, you have always been very strategic with when you visit and planned trips when there were new films showing.

However today you didn't look as if you were too wrapped up with just the thought of seeing Logan again. “Oh…” You let out an awkward laugh. “Well I guess you've turned me into a cinephile then.” You inwardly slap yourself at your words. Genius. You've all but outed your crush for him, you might as well get on one knee and start spouting sonnets. Logan's cheeks warm and he gains composure before he responds. “Is there, uh, anything else you can do near here? Go to the record store? He'll, my boss, know a killer bakery that he used to work at if you ever want any recommendations!” You almost feel like spilling your guts to Logan and revealing the true intention of your visits. “Well… In all honesty I've never really explored the rest of the mall, I've mainly stuck to the cinema.”

Logan perks up at your words. This could be his chance. He rubs his shiny palms on his trousers and shakily responds. “Well… I could show you around later if you'd like that?”

You fight the urge to start grinning like a lovesick fool. “I think I'd really quite like that.” Logan's mouth turns into an uncontrollable toothy grin as he laughs in surprise. “Great. Yeah. Amazing. I can't wait!” You giggle at his cute rambling. “What time do you get off?”

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The two of you sit in content silence. “This was great.” You eagerly nod at the man sitting opposite you as you take another scoop of your plain froyo. “It was truly amazing. Thank you and I hope we can do it again.” He smiles softly at you (despite how often he's done it throughout the evening, you still feel butterflies erupt in your stomach). He replies softly. “I'd love that.” He waves to one of the supervisors (who is involved in a conversation with clearly too much sexual tension with a curly haired man, clearly another supervisor if the badge was anything to look at). She catches Logan's eyeline and nods. After the two of you have paid (Logan insisted that it was his duty to pay) and left the restaurant, you walk around arm in arm with the man with a new found confidence.

“So where to next time? Is it a bit too on the nose to suggest a movie date next time?” Logan laughs breathily as he pulls you into his side. “Sweetheart, I think you've seen enough films to last you a lifetime.”

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Jenson watches as his favourite worker leans over the counter with a wide grin on his face. He thinks back to a similar time when him and his partner were also like that. As you quickly lean in to peck Logan's nose, the older man can't help but feel a sense of pride for the man almost like his son and a sense of joy for your blossoming relationship; which very clearly is the best thing for the both of you.

Logan glances up at the clock every few minutes. His eagerness to clock off makes you giggle. “What's got you so tense?” His face softens. “Sorry. I just really want to take my gorgeous girlfriend to this new shop that's just opened up.” You fight the urge to blush and instead just tilt your head playfully. “Really? What does she look like, maybe I've seen her before.” You glance around and consequently don't notice Logan scrambling over the counter and engulfing you in a large embrace. “Hmmm… I think I've found her.” Your protests get lost in the laughter as the two of you each off, Logan's shift finally at its end.

Jenson watches the two of you exit the building, arm in arm with lovestruck expressions on your faces. Gosh, you were adorable. And gosh he was going to have to do Logan's job and refill the slushy machine…for the third time this week.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: Guys, I have to finally come out and admit it, this is the “view” I went to the cinema for.

Liked by: Logansargeant, Yourbestfriend, Oscarpiatri and 104 others

View all 18 comments:

Yourbestfriend: 😐Simp😐 Also Logan I am out for your blood

↳Logansargeant: What. Why!?!

↳Yourbestfriend: You took my wife from me😫

↳Logansargeant: My wife now (soon)🙂

↳Yourusername: Awww Lo, Ilysm❤❤

Logansargeant: Who is that handsome man?

↳Yourusername: He has a gf, sorry :/

↳Logansargeant: Is his girlfriend single because she is gorgeous?😍😍😍

↳Yourusername: Depends on who's asking🤨

Alexalbon: Awww! So cute to see you together after Logan spent weekends raving about you

↳Logansargeant: Nuh uh

↳Oscarpiastri: fym nuh uh?

↳Yourusername: Aww Lo. You raved about me?

↳Logansargeant: Of course baby how could I not💙

↳Yourusername: You're adorable

↳Oscarpiastri: 😐🤮

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logansargeant

Logansargeant: Finally made me change my ways (also if you see this and you're Jenson then we aren't breaking any cinema policies and see you on Monday)!!!

Liked by yourusername, Oscarpiatri, Alexalbon and 107 others

View all 24 comments:

Yourusername: Oh my gosh that photo of us outside the cinema turned out so cute❤❤

↳Logansargeant: Only because you're in it💙

↳Yourusername: Charmer…

↳Logansargeant: What can I say? It's the only thing to do when you have such a gorgeous girlfriend😉

↳Yourusername: Lo stop. I'm actually giggling and blushing rn wtf

Oscarpiatri: is this what you do on company time now

↳Logansargeant: I'm afraid so Osc

↳Oscarpiastri: does this mean you'll put a staff discount on my tickets now, finally

↳Logansargeant: Sorry Osc, I don't think I'm allowed

↳Oscarpiastri: oh but your gf has been getting it since before you even started dating!?!?!

↳Yourusername: Awww Lo, really? That's so sweet (and explains the cheap tickets now)

↳Logansargeant: What can I say babe? I've been whipped from the start

Jensonbutton: I suppose I can Ignore the fact that you had your phone out in the cinema room just this once.

↳Logansargeant: And this is why you ate my favourite boss!

↳Jensonbutton: You only have one boss…

↳Logansargeant: So you truly are the best!

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #logan sargeant #f1 smau #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fic #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant smau #raceway retail 𐀶

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bloodreinasbathwater · 3 days

Text

My Sunshine

Jack Hughes X F!Reader (pregnancy au)

a.n: Jacks initial chapters are coming to a close. after part 6 I will be putting out the mini chapters for the baby shower, nursery, birth, etc. this took forever but part 5 is finally done!!!

Warnings: pregnancy, sad jack, anxiety, mention of blood (briefly) , eventual smut. not proofread either so good luck.

Word Count - 3,728

Pregnancy series link / Jacks masterlist

Y/N's chest tightened as Jack's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his foot pressing down a bit too firmly on the gas pedal as they merged onto the bustling highway. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the road ahead, while a flock of birds soared gracefully overhead, their wings catching the golden light.

Y/N's gaze flickered between the cars rushing past them, each one a blur of colors and shapes, in the rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of Jack's jaw clenching subtly, a telltale sign of his nerves despite his outward calm demeanor.

The tension in the air was palpable, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions that churned within Y/N as she grappled with the aftermath of the fight with Jason and the numerous events from the past week.

At her latest doctor's appointment, the doctor explained that due to her hormonal makeup, she likely wouldn't experience the same swelling and baby bump as most expectant mothers.

Rather than protruding outwards, her uterus would grow inwards towards her spine, minimizing her visible signs of pregnancy. It was an atypical condition, but the baby was developing perfectly based on the dating of the ultrasound.

She had finally worked up the courage to tell her best friend Heather everything, including the fight with Jason and her fears about keeping Jack around without telling him the truth. She stole a glance at him in the driver's seat.

Jack's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, fingers flexing anxiously. Despite his outward nerves, she found comfort in his familiar mannerisms after his team's big win last night.

"You don't have to do this if you aren't ready," Jack said, voice strained. He blinked rapidly, adam’s apple bobbing. "My parents will understand if we reschedule."

Y/N shook her head, subconsciously resting a hand on her still-flat stomach. In between putting the finishing touches on her latest book release, this had been her one constant thought. "No, I want to meet them. Just a little nervous I guess."

They neared Jack's childhood neighborhood, y/n’s stomach twisted into anxious knots, and she wiped her damp palms against her jeans. Jack's hardy pickup truck rumbled beneath them, the weather-worn bench seat creaking as she fidgeted restlessly.

He must have noticed her nerves ramping up because suddenly his calloused hand reached across the console, muscular forearm brushing her thigh as he twisted the volume dial. The opening chords of a classic country song blared through the truck's speakers, the unmistakable twang of the singer's voice filling the cab.

Then, Jack started singing - his rich voice rumbling from deep within his barrel chest. He wore a faded green jersey stretched taut across his broad shoulders, the slightest hint of chest hair peeking into the open button. Hanging one hand lazily from the steering wheel, he used the other to dramatically lip-sync and serenade Y/N with exaggerated motions.

She clapped one hand over her mouth, desperately trying to muffle the unstoppable peals of laughter at his ridiculous performance. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as Jack waggled his eyebrows and threw her sultry looks, his whole face alight with uninhibited joy.

By the time the truck rumbled up the driveway of the cozy two-story home, they were both doubled over in unbridled laughter. Jack killed the engine but left the music playing softly, the tinny sound of the singer's voice drifting through the cab.

Wiping a mirthful tear from her cheek, Y/N watched as Jack's expression softened into one of pure tenderness. He reached out to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering to trace her jaw before cupping her face and drawing her in for a sweet, lingering kiss on the cheek. She melted at his unhurried affection, her heart swelling on the receiving end of such gentle adoration.

From outside the truck, one could hear the quiet murmuring of their voices and Jack's baritone humming snatches of the song's melody. His broad shoulders hunched as he ducked out of the cab before rounding the front of the truck.

The driver's side door groaned open, and Jack's scuffed air forces crunched on the paved driveway as he hurried to open Y/N's door, gentlemanly offering his hand to help guide her down from the elevated cab.

Jack gave Y/N's hand a reassuring squeeze as they started up the driveway toward the house. The warm breeze ruffled her floral sundress, the lightweight fabric swaying around her calves as they climbed the gentle slope.

Jack's parents' yard was immaculately kept - the grass a lush, emerald carpet, meticulously trimmed hedges lining the path. Vibrant flower beds brimmed with a kaleidoscope of colorful blooms nodding in the breeze. It was picture-perfect, like something out of a magazine spread.

As they drew closer, Y/N could make out two figures standing at the top of the porch steps. An older couple, the woman's hands planted firmly on her hips in a scolding posture as she appeared to be lecturing a tall, younger man who could only be Jack's brother or cousin based on his uncanny resemblance.

They seemed oblivious to the approaching pair, attention fully focused on the sheepish-looking boy shuffling his feet in front of them.

Y/N tugged on Jack's hand, leaning in close. "Jack..." she murmured, grasping tighter to his reassuring strength.

He glanced over, following her line of sight up to the porch before giving her fingers another comforting squeeze. "It's okay, I'll be right here with you," Jack said lowly. That unwavering confidence bolstered her, and Y/N nodded uncertainly before continuing their approach.

As they reached the bottom of the porch steps, the older couple finally seemed to notice their arrival. Ellen and Jim's expressions immediately transformed - the scolding looks melting into warm, welcoming smiles as they rushed forward with open arms.

"Jackie! There you are, son," Jim bellowed in a jovial tone, pulling his son in for an embrace before turning to Y/N with a wink. "And you must be the young lady who's captured my boy's heart."

"Dad, come on!" Jack groaned, a pink hue blossoming high on his chiseled cheekbones as his father clapped him firmly on the back.

Ellen wasted no time in swooping in to greet Y/N, taking the younger woman's hands in her own calloused grip as she looked her over appraisingly. There was a kindness that crinkled the corners of her eyes as she met Y/N's nervous gaze.

"It's so wonderful to finally meet you, dear," Ellen said warmly. "Jackie hasn't been able to stop talking about you since he came home from the trip." She shot a conspiratorial wink towards her son, who ducked his head sheepishly.

Before Y/N could respond, a boisterous voice rang out from the porch. "Well, well, if it isn't the golden boy himself!" The tall, broad-shouldered man lumbered down the steps, arms spread wide. "Did you really think you could come home without getting the official Lucas McManus welcome?"

Jack had barely turned before he was enveloped in a bone-crushing bear hug, his brother's meaty arms constricting around his ribs. "Ugh, Luke, get off me, you big lug!"

Luke released him with a barking laugh. "Good to see you too.” His mischievous gaze landed on Y/N hovering by Jack's side. Before she could even draw a breath to introduce herself, he stepped forward and swept her into a surprisingly gentle hug, taking care not to crush her slight frame against his hulking form.

“I’m Luke, jacks younger and cooler brother,” he stage-whispered conspiratorially with an exaggerated wink.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at his antics, feeling some of the nervous tension bleed out of her shoulders.

…

The family dinner was a lively, boisterous affair. The rustic oak table seemed to groan under the weight of the hearty spread - a thick slab of prime rib taking center stage, surrounded by heaping bowls of roasted potatoes, buttered vegetables, and fragrant yeasty rolls.

once they settled in, knees knocking together in the tight quarters, Luke wasted no time launching into a series of merciless chirps and good-natured ribbings directed at his younger brother. Jack took it all in stride, giving as good as he got with his own sly digs and underhanded compliments cloaked in insults in that unique way only siblings could manage.

Ellen tutted disapprovingly at their antics, even as the corners of her lips quirked up in an amused smile. "Boys, not in front of our guest!" she lightly scolded, placing a reassuring hand on Y/N's arm. The warm maternal weight of it was instantly comforting.

Across the table, Jim met Y/N's eyes with a roguish wink and a conspiratorial grin, his chest puffing out proudly as he watched his sons' spirited back-and-forth like it was the culmination of some legacy lineage of brotherly torment.

As dinner progressed in that rambunctious fashion, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at how the Hughes clan seemed to speak in an entirely separate language comprised of inside jokes, dramatics, and endless affectionate insults and barbs flung without malice.

She struggled to get a word in edgewise, but found herself thoroughly charmed by the liveliness, the evident closeness, the constant undercurrent of deep love and acceptance.

At one point, Ellen set down her fork with a measured look towards the two brothers. "So...any prospect of grandchildren to spoil rotten any time soon?" She asked with a perfectly arched brow and a sly smile.

Luke barked out a raucous guffaw, slapping his palm on the table. "Are you kidding, Mom? Quinn's still halfway in the closet. My money's on him!"

He missed Jack shaking his head decisively, arm tightening possessively around the back of Y/N's chair as he pulled her subtly closer to his side. "No, no. It's gonna be me for sure," he stated with conviction, bold gaze flickering to catch Y/N's eye. "Quinn's too old and only cares about hockey these days."

Y/N's heart slammed into her throat as the implication settled over her like a weighted blanket. She couldn't tell if the flush burning her cheeks was from mortification or if Jack genuinely meant what she thought he did. Before her mind could spiral any further down that path, she jumped at the opportunity to escape when Ellen began collecting plates.

"Let me help you with those dishes, Ellen," Y/N blurted, likely a touch too loud and enthusiastic as she shot out of her seat.

"Of course, honey," Ellen smiled warmly, stacking plates into Y/N's anxious hands.

Y/N rounded the table hastily, Jack's furrowed brow and worried eyes following her retreat from the dining room. She clutched the dishes tightly, using the porcelain edges to ground herself as she followed Ellen through the swinging door and into the sunny kitchen.

A tense silence fell over the remaining family members before Jim cleared his throat loudly, catching the attention of his two sons. He swirled the ice cubes in his glass contemplatively.

"So..." he began, leaning back in his chair to fix Jack with an inscrutable look. "How long have you two been together?"

Jack's cheeks flushed pink, one hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided his father's steady gaze. "Uh, five months or so," he admitted shyly after a pause. "I'm actually going to ask her to be my girlfriend tonight...officially."

Luke let out a low whistle, clapping Jack firmly on the shoulder with one meaty paw. "About damn time, big bro! We were all starting to wonder if you'd ever settle down with one girl."

From the kitchen, Y/N could hear the muffled sound of Jack's embarrassed groan and the raucous laughter that followed. She gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening as her heart rate kicked up another notch.

Girlfriend. The term sent her head spinning anew. She had assumed their relationship was casual, a fleeting rebound in the wake of Jason's toxicity. But now Jack wanted to make things official...permanent. How could she say yes and move forward when she was keeping something this big from him?

"Everything okay, dear?" Ellen's soft voice cut through the spiral of Y/N's thoughts. The older woman regarded her with a concerned furrow of her brow as she diligently started on the pile of plates.

Y/N managed a jerky nod, willing her features into a placid mask as she reached for the dishtowel to help dry. "Yes, of course! I just...needed a breather from all the family energy out there," she tried to joke.

Ellen hummed knowingly in response. "They can certainly be a handful, that bunch. But they mean well." Her gaze sharpened as she studied Y/N's tense profile. "Jack cares about you an awful lot, you know. We can all see how smitten he is."

The warm weight of Ellen's eyes was too much. Y/N twisted away under the guise of grabbing another dish from the rack, blinking rapidly against the telltale sting of tears threatening to well over.

… After skillfully avoiding any further emotional conversations in the kitchen, Y/N felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine as she and Jack made their way towards the front door to leave. Her stomach twisted with nerves and unspoken truths.

"You'll have to come back again soon," Ellen insisted, enveloping Y/N in one of her warm, motherly hugs. There was an underlying knowing look in her eyes as she squeezed Y/N tight before releasing her.

Jim stepped forward next, pulling Y/N into an embrace and patting her back fondly. "It was wonderful to finally meet the woman who has our Jackie so dugzamped," he said with a wink towards his son.

"Dad!" Jack groaned in feigned exasperation, though his cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment.

Luke saved the most boisterous goodbye for last, sweeping Y/N up in a rib-crushing bear hug that left her feet dangling inches from the floor. "You take care of him, you hear?" He mock-scolded with a roguish grin, mercifully setting her back down before ruffling Jack's hair affectionately.

Jack batted his brother's hands away, straightening his mussed clothing with as much dignity as possible. He looped one arm around Y/N's waist, pulling her into his side reassuringly as they finally made their goodbyes.

The walk back towards Jack's truck seemed to stretch out interminably. Y/N's body felt like it was operating on autopilot as she let Jack guide her with a firm hand at the small of her back. Her mind raced with doubts and fears, rendering her temporarily mute.

It wasn't until they reached the driver's side door and Jack turned to face her, cupping her cheek tenderly, that she finally surfaced from her spiral with a full-body startle.

"Hey," he murmured, brows furrowed with concern. "You ok? You checked out there for a bit."

Y/N stared up at him mutely, her mouth working without any sound coming out. Get it together, she firmly told herself. Taking a steadying breath, she nodded shakily. "Y-Yeah, I'm okay. Just...a lot to process I guess."

Jack's features softened with understanding, replacing his tense expression to a gentle look of empathy. His thumb traced slow, comforting circles on her cheekbone, the roughness of his skin a stark contrast to her soft cheeks.

"Come on," he murmured softly, his voice steady and reassuring, "let's get you home."

…

"I think my mom might like you more than I do," he said with a chuckle, a hint of playful jealousy lacing his words. "She’s made me kinda jealous stealing all your attention. Family dinner will not be happening anytime soon I’ll tell you that much."

"I hope that’s true Jack," she replied softly, eyes reflecting the admiration she felt so deeply for him. "She’s amazing, I wish my mother was like her. She’s genuine and kind, I’m jealous of you." her eyes drifted down to her hands, she winced at the broken skin and bloody cuticles from her abuse. "I feel like everyone our age now has such shitty parents ya know," she muttered.

"Come on don’t say that sun," he urged gently, reaching over to grasp her hands in an attempt to stop her picking at them.

Jack's grip tightened on her hands and he shook his head firmly.

Jack's eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed, the corners of his mouth turning downwards in a serious expression. He looked at her with concern, a hint of sadness in his gaze. "I hate hearing you talk like that."

"I’m serious Jack, really," she insisted, her free hand nervously toying with a loose thread on her dress. "I'm happy you have a good family. They did so well raising you, I can tell."

"You’re making me nervous," Jack admitted with a sheepish grin. "Do you always talk about your boyfriend’s parents like this? We’ll be like that one day,” he mused dreamily, "a few babies, home full of love... I can imagine it now; they look just like you."

"A family?" she repeated back. Y/N's heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears. The mere suggestion sent a chill down her spine, her breath catching in her throat. Images of vulnerability and responsibility flooded her mind, each one more terrifying than the last.

"Uh yeah... I’m sorry it just slipped out," he stammered apologetically, the smile falling from his face. "I didn’t mean to be so weird about it... I’m sorry. Just forget I said that whole thing." he pleaded, his eyes darted around nervously, avoiding direct contact with Y/N's as he spoke, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"Actually, no I didn’t,” he interjected suddenly, his eyes searching hers earnestly. “Yeah, your boyfriend... I want to be your boyfriend officially. I really like you and catch myself thinking about you all day; what you’re doing, new places I can take you... I want to be with you as more than friends." He paused before adding softly, "I knew the second I saw you in that coffee shop... I want to be your boyfriend if you’ll have me of course."

“Jack we can’t," she whispered sadly, avoiding his gaze.

"What?" His voice cracked with disbelief.

"Jack… You can’t date me." Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she continued hesitantly, "I really like you too Jack; god you have no idea...” She swallowed hard before confessing, “I wanna be in your skin half the time but it’s just that now's not a good time for me to be involved in that way...” Her hands trembled slightly as she spoke.

“I see what you have, and I don't want to ruin that,” she confessed tearfully. “You have a good healthy family people all around you...” A single tear rolled down her cheek as she added in a barely audible whisper, “I have no one but Heather...There’s no one there for me. If I dated you, I would just feel like I’m dragging you away from all the people who love you so I won’t be alone."

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked away from jack. He searched her face desperately, hurt and confusion writ large across his features.

"And all of that makes you not want to be with me?" he asked hoarsely. "You don't wanna be with me?" Jack swallowed hard, gaze boring into hers intensely. "Was it tonight? That made you realize that? Did I make you uncomfortable?"

He scrubbed a hand over his face roughly. "I won't ever talk about kids again if that made you upset," Jack rambled, words tumbling out in a rush. "I just...we've been so happy. I was lost in thought and couldn't stop talking."

Y/N shook her head vehemently. "No, you didn't do any of that, Jack," she insisted, reaching out to clutch his arm. "I'm happy you feel that way, so fucking happy you even see a future with me."

Jack visibly deflated with relief at her reassurance, only for the tension to reset his shoulders as conflict flickered across his expression. "Then what is it?" he demanded, the hurt leaking into his tone now.

"How come you don't want to be with me? I assumed we were getting serious. You just met my family. I've been with you for five months and I've never felt like this for anyone in my life." His voice cracked with raw emotion. "No one has ever made me feel so loved or appreciated the way you do."

Tears spilled over Y/N's cheeks in shining rivulets. "I wish I could be honest with you," she choked out in a whisper. "Tell you the reason why I can't. But you'll just hate me for it."

Jack's features contorted in an anguished wince, and he surged forward to frame her face in his calloused palms. "Don't think so little of me," he pleaded gruffly. "I feel like I'm saying all the wrong things. Was it too soon to tell you how I feel about us?" Jack's eyes shimmered as he searched hers beseechingly. "Please. Just...what do I do now?"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut against the swell of regret and pain lancing through her chest. With tremendous effort, she extricated herself from Jack's grip, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Jack," she rasped, backing away from him. "I really am, but I think I should go."

A stricken noise punched out of Jack at that, his hand reaching out as if to physically stop her retreat. "Please don't leave me like this," he begged, voice thick with unshed tears. "I don't know how to be without you. I don't wanna learn how to do that right now. I want you with me. Please."

The anguish etched into every line of his expression was like a vise around Y/N's heart. She longed to close the distance, to soothe away the hurt she caused with her touch, her words. But she couldn't. Not when she was such a mess of half-truths and lies.

"You deserve so much better than what I can give you, Jack," she forced out, barely choking back a sob as she turned away, unable to look at him any longer. "You're such a great guy, I don't deserve you. You're too good. The next girl you find will be so much better than I could ever be, and I hope you see that eventually."

Y/N swallowed hard, mustering the last of her tattered composure. "Good night, Jack."

...

Tag List <3

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 days

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Have Faith In Me - GF!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

I said I'd never let you go, and I never did. I said I'd never let you fall, and I always meant it.

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: After leaving Woodsboro for a fresh start, you’re shaken up when Ghostface resurfaces. Little did you know, the person you were in love with is a part of it.

Contains: Oral - f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex(pulling out thooo), angst at the end💁🏼‍♀️

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I NEEDED to write another Ghostface Ethan fic. And then I realized I don’t have a series yet where he’s the bad guy, so here ya go💕Also, still working on Creep part 2 even though its been a while(I think I made it a little too much lmao).

You were never supposed to know that Ethan had a part in why people were being murdered, at least not yet. He was disappointed in himself for being so careless, so stupid. His thoughts were racing as he tried to think of anything he could say to you to make you want to keep quiet. He knew his dad and sister would be furious if their plan was destroyed because of Ethan’s negligence, but he was more worried about your safety, which he’d already begged his family for.

It started off as a normal day. Well, not really. After two students and a professor were killed close to campus, your morning classes had been cancelled for the day. With the recent killings, you didn’t want to be alone. You called Ethan, your boyfriend’s groggy voice making you smile once he answered.

“Were you still sleeping?” you asked, as he yawned.

“Classes are cancelled. What else am I supposed to do?” he asked, as you giggled. “Wait, what are you doing today? Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, I was going to call Tara, but I know she’s probably exhausted from being questioned all night,” you said, as he dramatically scoffed at your words.

“So I was the second person you wanted to call,” he said, the fake annoyance in his voice making you roll your eyes. “You should come to my dorm. We can cuddle, watch movies, and Chad’s not here so we can do some other stuff, too.”

“I can’t believe you’re suggesting sex when there’s someone out here killing people. That’s one of the first rules, don’t have sex,” you said, as Ethan started to chuckle.

“Okay, Mindy,” he teased, “You sounded just like her for a second.”

“Hey, I want to live, and I want you to live, too,” you said, as you slid your shoes on your feet. “I’m leaving now, I’ll be at your dorm soon.”

Your dorm was only one building away from Ethan’s, so the walk was very short, and the sun was shining, but you were still nervous as you walked a little faster to get to his dorm, just in case. You’d had previous encounters with Ghostface in Woodsboro, and after Judy was killed right in front of her house in the middle of the day, you felt like you could never be too careful.

When you made it to Ethan’s dorm, you knocked before the door opened, a sleepy smile on his face as he stepped to the side to let you come in. He was shirtless, his flannel pajamas hanging lowly on his hips. You bit your lip for a second as you checked him out, before he cleared his throat.

Your eyes snapped from his abs to his face, his lips twisted into a smirk as you felt your blush spread across your cheeks.

"You checking me out?" he teased as he walked over to you, his hand going underneath your chin to tilt your head up before he leaned down to kiss you.

"Mhm," you mumbled into the kiss. He stood there, his lips on yours for a minute before he pulled away.

He sat on his bed, making grabby hands at you as you sat down beside him. When he laid back to relax his head on the pillows, you moved with him, your head resting on his chest as your legs tangled with his.

"Do you want to talk about what's going on? With the Ghostface stuff?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "I know this must be scarier for you than it is for me."

You sighed as his hand ran over your hip, thinking about how terrifying everything was in Woodsboro the year before. You were trying so hard to not think too much into it, because you were sure you survived last time out of pure luck, and the odds of you making it out unscathed again wasn't very likely.

You didn't even know your eyes were watering until the tears trickled, running over your cheekbone before they made it to Ethan's bare chest.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ethan asked, as you sat up and placed your face in your hands. He sat up, too, pulling your hands away so he could see you. Guilt for what he and his family had done and everything they still had to do punched him in the chest once he saw your panicked, red eyes, and your bottom lip quivering. "I won't let anything happen to you, baby."

"I just can't believe this is happening. We thought leaving Woodsboro meant we would never have to deal with this again," you said, your voice shaking as Ethan offered a sympathetic smile. "When I tried to sleep last night, all I could see behind my eyelids was Sam's psycho boyfriend running at me with his knife."

Ethan shook his head, trying to remain calm. He knew Richie tried to kill you that night before he met you, because he read all the police reports and files his dad got after everything happened. At first, you were supposed to be just another body that was going to drop before the Kirsch family fled the country. At least, that was the plan before Ethan fell in love with you.

"I promise you, you're going to be okay. I won't let anything happen to you," he said, a small sob slipping past your lips.

"You can't promise that nothing will happen to me, Ethan," you said, wiping the tears off your cheeks. "Just like I can't promise that nothing will happen to you."

Ethan pulled you close to him before he kissed the top of your head.

"I don't want you to be alone. If you aren't with me, I want you with someone at all times, okay?" he said, as you nodded. "Are you going to Tara's when I have to leave for Econ later?"

"Yeah, will you walk me there before you go to class tonight?"

"Of course, baby."

You still had a few hours before he had to leave for class, so you cuddled up with him and decided to watch something funny to lighten the somber mood. As you and Ethan laughed, the terrifying reality that was your life wasn't weighing as heavy on your mind, because you really did feel safe with him. You knew he'd protect you if it came down to it.

You kept stealing glances at your boyfriend's still-shirtless body, paying extra attention to the way his arms flexed whenever he shifted beside you. It didn't take long for Ethan to notice, and once he realized that you had stopped watching the movie and was more interested in watching him, he leaned over to shut his laptop.

"Do you not want to watch the movie anymore?" you asked, as you quickly looked up to look at his face, the same smirk from earlier back on his lips.

"It didn't seem like you did," he teased, as he leaned in to kiss you. "Do you think oral counts in the whole 'Don't have sex' thing?"

"Is this your way of asking me to suck your dick?" you said, laughing a little as he bit his bottom lip.

"No, this is me asking to eat you out," he said, your eyes growing wide at his words, your breath hitching in your throat. "If you want me to."

"I don't think oral counts," you said, your smirk matching his before he pushed you back and hovered over you, connecting his lips to yours. "We do have to leave soon-ish, though, if you're going to walk me to Tara's before class."

"I have plenty of time to make you cum," he mumbled against your lips, before he pulled away to sit up.

His hands went to your leggings, hooking his fingers under the waistband before he slid them down your thighs. After they were off, his hand went straight to your pussy, teasing you as he rubbed you over the material that was getting wetter by the second in between your legs.

You relaxed under his touch, your legs spreading wider for him as he added a little more pressure. One of Ethan's favorite things in bed was teasing you, because he loved how whiny your voice sounded when you couldn't take it anymore, but as he thought more about the time he didn't have, he quickly pulled your panties down, leaving the lower half of your body exposed to him.

He scooted further down the bed, and once he was settled between your thighs, his eyes connected with your needy ones. He watched you as his tongue connected with your pussy, your mouth parting as you took a deep breath.

One of your hands lazily rested in his curls as he placed gentle licks to your clit, every thought running through your mind fading as you focused on how he was making you feel. The anticipation for him to do more had your skin tingling, but before you had the chance to say anything, his mouth moved lower, his tongue dipping inside your dripping pussy.

He was alternating between swirling his tongue inside of you and licking from your entrance to your clit, your hips squirming at the feeling as he tried to keep you still.

"Fuck," you moaned, your hand tangled tightly in his hair as you looked down at him. His mouth moved even faster, eating your pussy like he was craving it. He sucked your clit into his mouth, the delicious pressure making your back arch off the bed. "Oh my god," you whimpered, his teeth gently grazing it before he sucked a little harder.

Ethan knew that feeling was starting to build as he watched you, your brows furrowing, your whimpers slipping out through the corners of your mouth as your teeth tightly held your bottom lip. You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance before he slid his middle and ring ringer into you with ease, and he wasted no time to curve them, making sure to hit that spot.

"So close," you whimpered, as he chuckled with your clit in his mouth and kept going.

Your hand in his hair was shaking, your toes were curling against his sheets, your breathing was so heavy. Ethan loved seeing you like this, so close to the edge, and knowing he was the one that was making you feel that pleasure made his cock throb even harder than it already was.

He pressed his fingers a little harder, the feeling making your eyes roll back as you whined out, the hot feeling spreading across your body as your thighs clenched around his head. You were a whimpering mess as your body rocked from the waves of pleasure running through it.

As you came down from your high, your body relaxing against his bed as he pulled away, he watched you in awe as you caught your breath. He always thought you were beautiful, but your post-orgasm glow was his favorite. You lazily opened your eyes to see him staring at you, a smile playing on your lips.

"I know it's against the rules, but I need to have you inside of me," you said, as he laughed and slid his pajamas and boxers down in one swift motion.

"Condom or no condom?" he asked, waiting for your answer before he crawled on top of you.

"Just pull out," you said, a smirk playing on your lips as he quickly got settled between your legs.

"We have to be quick," he said, glancing over at the Star Wars clock on his night stand. "Is that okay?"

"Mhm," you said, as he slid inside of you.

He gave you a minute, his thrusts slow as your pussy adjusted to his size, before he sped up. You clung to his biceps as his hands were pressed flatly against his bed on either side of you, the tip of his cock slamming into your g-spot with every snap of his hips.

"Shit," you whimpered through your clenched teeth, your legs wrapping around his waist so he could go even deeper.

It didn't take long for your eyes to start rolling back again, the words you were trying to say coming out as babbles that Ethan couldn't understand.

"Look at you, so drunk off my cock," he teased, as you quickly nodded your head, your moans getting louder as he slid in and out of you. "Taking it so fucking well."

He grunted once he felt your nails dig into his arm, the stinging sensation turning him on even more. He went faster, and before you had the chance to process that you were about to cum, your body started to jolt, a loud cry flying out of your mouth as your pussy clenched him.

"Fuck, gonna cum," he moaned, before he pulled out.

As soon as he did, the realization that you were still wearing your shirt hit him as he covered it in his cum. You were too caught up in coming down from your own orgasm that you didn't notice, until Ethan started laughing to himself.

"What?" you asked, your breathing still labored as he shook his head and ran his hand through his curls.

"Uh...you wanna borrow a shirt before we leave?" he asked, as you glanced down to look at your shirt before you started laughing.

"Please," you said, as he leaned down to place a kiss to your lips.

He helped you get off his bed before he grabbed the clothes he wanted to wear out of the laundry basket full of stuff he hadn't folded yet, as you walked over to his dresser to search for your favorite shirt of his.

His back was turned towards you, but once he heard the drawer open, his head snapped in your direction, his heart pounding in his chest as you placed your hand over your mouth.

You saw the knife with the dried blood on it resting on top of his folded shirts, your eyes growing wide as your stomach felt queasy. You hesitantly turned your head to him, your eyes watering as he stepped closer.

"Baby," he said softly, as you took a step back. "This isn't what it looks like."

"So that's not a fucking bloody knife in your dresser?" you snapped, as he darted towards you, wincing at the loudness of your voice before his hand covered over your mouth.

"Shut the fuck up," he whispered, his eyes wide as he backed you towards the wall.

In that moment, you knew the person you were in love with was a psycho, fear coursing through your veins as his dark eyes looked into yours.

"I can't explain everything right now," he said, his face softening as his hand was still pressed against you. "But nothing's going to happen to you. You can't say anything, baby. You need to keep quiet, it's the only way I can keep you safe."

You hesitantly nodded, the tears running down your face pooling against the side of his hand. You were trying so hard to choke back your sobs as he groaned.

"I'm so fucking stupid," he said, as he took a deep breath. "If I let go of your mouth, will you be quiet?"

You nodded again, as he slowly pulled his hand away. You glanced at the floor as he stood in front of you, your chin quivering as he sighed.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he said, as he placed his hand under your chin and lifted your head to face him. You were still refusing to make eye contact. "I'm serious about you not saying anything. I'd never hurt you, but who I'm working with would. You know how long it took for me to convince them that you didn't need to die?"

You took a shaky breath as you looked at the person you thought you knew really well a few minutes ago, the realization hitting you that you don't know him at all.

"Can I trust you to not say anything?" he asked, a few more tears slipping past your lash line as you nodded. "I'll tell you everything later, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, as he walked over to grab a shirt out of the drawer that was still open, and handed it to you.

"You need to get dressed, baby. I'm going to be late for class."

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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souliebird · 14 hours

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[[and then I met you || ch 22]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.3k

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It takes you a little over an hour to get Minnie to go down for bed. Tomorrow is her birthday party and to say she is excited is an understatement. She was practically jumping off the walls and it took three different books, a bottle, and two lullabies to finally get her to drift off. You are thankful when she doesn’t sit up again and call for you after five minutes, because you have a lot to do.

You need to clean up the apartment and decorate, you need to prepare pancake batter for a princess style breakfast, you need to finish wrapping presents, and you need to set up the couch for Matt. He will be coming by after his Patrol so he can stay the night and Minnie can wake up to the surprise of him being there, which is the perfect way to start her celebratory weekend.

But before any of that, you need to go take a shower so you can have a proper breakdown.

When you were younger, you believed crying was a sign of weakness. Your parents had treated it as such, always dismissive if you cried. The reason had never mattered - shedding tears was pointless and for children, so you had learned to bottle everything up and push it all down until the act of crying physically hurt you. Only very recently did you accept that crying is healthy.

You still hate doing it, though, and the only way you have found to balance your shame and your need for that emotional release is to treat it like another task you need to accomplish.

You triple check your daughter is truly asleep before you close the door to the bathroom and start the water. You keep yourself composed as you strip and only once you are under the spray do you let the tears start to fall.

So much has happened in such a short time and your anxiety has been through the roof.

The first bill for your hospital stay arrived today and you have been too scared to open it. You are terrified to go back into medical debt - giving birth in the United States had drained a lot of your savings and you have built it back up. You know there are all sorts of hidden fees, and you are going to need to do so much work contacting the various billing offices to try to get prices down.

It isn’t even like you are fully recovered from being in the hospital in the first place. You only just finished your antibiotics last week and your ear still randomly throbs or rings.

But honestly, you don’t know if that is from being sick or almost having your head bashed in.

You thought you would be okay after the attack. You thought Minnie would be the one with problems - having nightmares and jumping at shadows - but after the first day of making sure you were okay, she’s been fine. You haven’t been.

You’ve been plagued with nightmares about hands around your neck. You’ve been jumping at shadows when you leave the apartment.

You keep constantly checking your locks and you debate ordering pepper spray.

You don’t know what to do.

You aren’t okay.

You don’t feel safe.

The only time you have felt secure is when Matt was there to hold you and remembering such only signals your brain to send a new wave of tears.

He confuses you in a way no one else ever has.

You have never met anyone who cares so much before. It is overwhelming how much he loves Hell’s Kitchen - enough so to become a vigilante to protect it - and it is overwhelming how much he loves Minnie. You thought only you could love her that much.

Seeing them together does things to your heart you don’t understand. You just want to watch them play and bond until the end of time. They smile and laugh, and it is the only time you ever feel Whole. You feel like everything is perfect when the three of you are together.

You don’t know what to make of that. You don’t trust yourself with it - you’ve never felt like that before and you are scared that if you think too hard about it, you’ll find a flaw and the feeling will be ruined.

You just want Matt to hold you while the two of you watch Minnie play and that isn’t an okay fantasy for you to have. You don’t have that type of relationship with him.

He is a naturally touchy person with a huge heart. You’ve seen him hug Karen and Foggy before and you know he has only ever wrapped his arms around you to comfort you.

And he wants to comfort you because you are the mother of his child. He wouldn’t be around if it weren’t for Minnie and that is something you need to remind yourself of.

Matt loves Minnie. Family is extremely important to him, and he has told you time and time again that he strives to be the best dad possible for her - so of course that means he needs to take care of you and make sure you have a positive relationship.

If you and Matt butt heads, that wouldn’t be what was best for Minnie.

You need to do what is best for Minnie.

Which means you need to stop crying and get to work.

You wipe at your tears until they start to slow, then wash your face while still under the spray. It takes a minute or two for you to fully calm down, but once you do, it is like the tap is turned off. Crying time is over, so you stop your shower and quickly dry off so you can get dressed.

You feel better, but in a kind of dull way. It is like all the pressures in your life have been turned down to something more manageable and you know you will be able to focus on your tasks without slipping into a panic attack.

The apartment is not nearly as dirty as you believed it to be. You have to straighten some things up and you take the time to wipe down all the flat surfaces, but after that, you start putting things up. There’s a pink and yellow Happy Birthday banner and you blow up a few inflatables you found shaped like flowers and stick them to the walls. You twirl streamers together to decorate the back of the couch and the dining chairs, and your favorite piece is the pink sparkle fringe to hang over the hallway entrance. It isn’t the most elaborate of set ups, but you know Minnie will love it and that is all that matters to you.

Once your living space is Birthday themed, you turn to the kitchen. You went shopping today to make sure you had everything needed for a spectacular breakfast. You found a recipe for extra fluffy pancakes, and it seems easy enough - it calls for letting the batter rest overnight and you particularly like that as it is one less thing to do in the morning while trying to handle a rowdy toddler.

It doesn’t take long to get everything prepped and before you know it, it has been close to two hours since you put Minnie down to sleep and you feel it is finally safe to bring her presents out of their hidey holes to be wrapped.

She has grown a bit since you last bought her clothes, so you got her a nice little haul, including a new princess dress for her to wear to the zoo. It has sparkles and tulle and the dress comes with a matching crown you just know she won’t want to take off. You are extremely proud of the find.

You didn’t just get her clothes, though. Minnie has been more and more interested in helping you cook, so you got her a little kitchen play set. It comes with pots and pans, knives, utensils, bowls, plates, and some fake food. You thought it would be fun to have her practice her skills - she’s a pro at helping you stir and mix, and she knows how to use a butter knife to cut up fruit. You hope she enjoys pretending to wash her dishes, so you lure you into helping into that part of cooking, but you don’t think anyone finds that chore fun.

Before you can start wrapping, you need to go through everything and remove all the tags and stickers. It is a boring activity that takes far too long, so you decide you are going to multitask while doing so. You grab your laptop and notebook and settle down among your pile of bags.

Since your talk with Matt about Daredevil, you have been in research mode. The first few nights, you read every article you could find about the Devil. You started with the reputable sources - purely focusing on news reports - and once you had a timeline of events down, you switched to opinion pieces. You quickly ended up sorting those into three categories - positive outlooks, negative outlooks, and outlooks written by Karen Page.

You took notes on everything - making pro and con lists on each major event and circling back to jot down questions you had. You felt insane - and frankly a little invasive - but it was how you processed things. You wanted it all laid out nicely in front of you so you could come to your own conclusions.

But to get to that final conclusion, you still have a lot of internet sleuthing to do, so you open up a new internet tab.

One of the most important things you want to know about Daredevil is how real people feel about him. Published articles are always biased - it is in their nature to be based purely on who produces them - but social media lets the mass in on the conversation. You learned that well after the Attack on New York.

You remember the majority of the news singing praise for the Avengers and how they saved the Earth - which you truly did appreciate - but no one came and spoke to the people whose lives had been ruined. Sure, they talked about how much destruction had happened and how much it would cost to rebuild, but no one had mentioned how Hell’s Kitchen and Chelsea had been almost flattened. No one cared about the low-cost homes that had been destroyed or the poor people crushed in debris - not when they could talk about the Big Bank buildings the Hulk had run through. Why talk about those genuinely affected when you could bring in a mouthpiece who was halfway across the world?

Iron Man didn’t give two shits about the people whose lives he saved. If he did, he’d help them in the aftermath, and he didn’t. None of the Heroes did - they started going around the world while an uncaring government was left to clean up the mess. Repairs went to the lowest bidder and many things were deemed too expensive and just left to crumble.

But only internet forums and ten second social media videos talked about that.

Matt talks so passionately about helping people in Hell’s Kitchen, so you need to know if it is real, or just all a puff piece.

You look first into the forums and to your surprise, there is a whole section for New York vigilantes. You resist the urge to dive into the threads about Spider-Man and the Hero of Harlem and you have to scroll to the bottom of the front page to find something about Daredevil.

It is CCTV footage of Daredevil chasing off what looks to be some teenagers trying to rob a pawn shop and there are a few dozen comments under it. You smile as you start to read them - the majority of it is praise for Matt, with the few negative comments being about the quality of footage.

And each thread you find about Daredevil is like that. You expected to see issues with excessive force like you saw in the opinion pieces, but there is nothing. People who you can tell are locals all comment about how he doesn’t hurt kids, and his punishments reflect the severity of the crime. Muggers get a few good swats while those who commit domestic violence are given as good as they gave. It is gang members and real dangers who end up in the hospital. There are about a handful of posts giving firsthand accounts of how the Devil helped them - ranging from them being in serious danger to Matt helping a drunk woman safely get a cab.

From what you can see, the people who post in this forum like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and genuinely feel safer with him around. The site is a little niche, though, so you switch to a more popular platform to see if you can find different opinions and different opinions you find.

Just not the ones you expected.

There is a new picture of the Devil that has gained traction in his tag that is rather good quality - Matt is squatting on a roof, seemingly observing a street, and is framed in such a way to show off his lower half. His thighs, which you know are all muscle, are highlighted wonderfully and the angle of the photo only emphasizes his backside. His upper back and shoulders are all in shadow, but you can tell just how broad they are.

Twitter absolutely loves the image, and you think you have to agree with them. You can feel your cheeks heating up and you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the screen.

Matt is beyond physically attractive, and it is no wonder the internet is lusting after him. There is a litany of lewd comments from multiple people and one made by a user with a cartoon frog as their profile picture has your core twitching and you quickly hide your face in your hands.

“imagine him bending you over a rooftop and fucking you until all you can do is drool ♥”

You don’t want to think dirty thoughts about Matt. It makes you feel awkward and guilty but mostly they make you Want, and you desperately want to bat that away.

You very obviously have slept with him before and know what a good lover he is. You know what his skin feels like against yours and your mouth goes dry at the memory of how loudly he moaned while between your legs. His stamina is no joke, and you can only imagine it has improved since he’s started being a vigilante.

You have no doubt he could easily fuck someone stupid.

You tell yourself you can’t think like this - you are supposed to be researching Daredevil to figure out how you feel about Matt being a vigilante - not ogling pictures of his ass and remembering your night together.

You gently smack your cheeks a few times and tell yourself to focus.

That only serves to make you more flush, so you make the executive decision that you have had enough screen time for the night and slam shut your laptop.

You have removed all the tags from the clothes, and you only have a few UPC stickers to pull off fake food, so you hurry through those so you can get to actually wrapping presents and not thinking about what you saw.

It is easy for you to get quickly lost in this new activity. Your perfectionist nature has you needing to make sure every crease is even and crisp and that each present looks picturesque, and you can't do that while distracted. Your thoughts shift from the way Matt’s breath felt against your skin to how many gifts Minnie has and how each one needs to look unique.

You know Minnie is going to tear through them like a wildfire, but it is important to you to make sure love is poured into everything.

You never got that as a child. Your birthdays were practical affairs and more often than not your present was to go clothes shopping, so you didn’t get to unwrap things or have that grand surprise. You don’t want that for Minnie. You want her to feel like an absolute princess on her special day and if that means rewrapping the same present four times to make it perfect, then that is what you will do.

You are finalizing bow placements on the gift bags you had to use for odd shaped items when your phone vibrates with an alert.

For a split second you are confused - it is rather late, and you’ve muted most app notifications - but then you remember Matt is meant to be coming over.

You don’t know how it could have slipped your mind and embarrassment burns through you.

How are you going to face him after staring at a picture of his ass until your brain broke?

You hesitate to check your phone, but when you do, you obviously have a text from him saying he is on his way. You groan to yourself, wondering how you can save yourself from this awkward situation?

Maybe you can go to bed early. You aren’t at all tired - you usually are up for another few hours - but you have a long weekend ahead of you. You will need rest.

In your bed.

Where Matt will not be.

Because, for the first time in a while, he will be sleeping on the couch.

Which you still need to prepare.

You finish fussing with Minnie’s bounty of presents and set about arranging them up the Happy Birthday banner like it is a Christmas tree. You have to resist your urge to nitpick and instead turn your focus to cleaning up your mess. You hurriedly shove the pile of trash you made into a bag so you can toss it and your wrapping supplies are tucked into the back of the closet, where they will live until you need them again.

You do a quick once over to make sure everything is neat and birthday ready before you fetch your spare pillow and blanket.

You try to not feel guilty as you start making up the couch. You know it isn’t the most comfortable and Matt will probably be sore after doing God knows what all night, but you can’t offer him your bed again. There is no reason for him to be in your bed. As frantic as you are, you don’t need any comforting.

You just need to stop thinking.

But not in that way.

“Stop,” you hiss at yourself. “Stop being a slut. Pure thoughts. Have pure thoughts.”

Scolding yourself does not work as well as you mean it to and all you can do is pour your concentration into folding and refolding the blanket. You roll it up tight first like it is a sleeping bag, then you think that is stupid, so you fold it into a triangle. You realize that is trying way too hard, so into a square it goes.

The knock at the door startles you and to your credit, you don’t scream.

You do, however, bury your face into your hands again and take a deep breath. You are panicking over nothing. Everything is just fine. You are overthinking.

You mentally chant that mantra as you go to the door. You hesitate to open it, needing the extra moment to center yourself, and you are surprised you don’t automatically close it again at the sight of Matt.

His normal daytime attire is a suit, and he wears them like a model, but you much prefer him dressed down as he is now. He’s in a t-shirt and joggers, with a five o’clock shadow and fluffed up hair, and he looks devastatingly handsome. He looks friendly and soft, but everything is just tight enough to show off how toned he is.

Your body reacts exactly like it did to the picture, but this time you can’t hide.

So, you run instead.

“Come on in,” you practically squeak out before hurrying to get out of his way. He’s got a gym bag with him - probably to carry his clothes for tomorrow - and your entryway isn’t the largest. It makes sense for you to go back to the living room.

“Busy night?” He asks as he closes and locks the door, and you are completely thrown by the question. You must make a confused noise, because he follows up with, “You are out of breath, is everything okay?”

Your heart starts to beat hard in your chest and you can feel your entire body getting hot. Of course, he can tell what is going on with your body and you are nearly in full panic mode.

You need to get to bed and away from him.

You fail at keeping your composure by gesturing around the living room, “Yeah - um - just been busy. Decorating and stuff - it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“It is,” Matt agrees, a charming and boyish smile creeping onto his lips. You tell yourself he must be excited for Minnie’s birthday and that is why he is in such a nice mood.

“How was..how was your night?”

He hums at the question, moving to set his bag down by the couch, “It was relatively quiet. With school starting up again and the heat, the younger crowd isn’t out. I made a few laps but didn’t find anything worth going after.”

“So, there isn’t like…crime every night?” You ask, trying to wrap your head around it all. You haven’t actually asked what a Patrol consists of, so you don’t know what the average one is like.

“Despite what everyone thinks, no. There’s a good number of nights where I just keep things tidy, but being out helps to deter people as well. Not every night is drug busts and gang wars.”

“That is good to know.” And it is - it helps to ease your anxiety that he is out there constantly boxing people. People say New York is crime ridden, but it is not nearly as bad as it is made out to be. It is all scare tactics and sensational news - like the Satanic Panic.

Matt hums again, then tilts his head back towards where you hung the birthday banner, “That is a lot of presents.”

His smile is still bright, and you have to duck your head and bite your lip to keep your mind in check. Your mouth, as always, is quick to quip, “I’m not telling you what is in them. It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise, huh?” He teases, before kneeling down by his bag and unzipping it. You can see colorful wrapping paper peeking through, and you instantly wonder what sort of gift is inside.

“A surprise,” you repeat. “It isn’t any fun if everyone knows what is inside before it is opened.”

“I’ll concede to that, even if it is tempting to peek.” As he says this he stands up, holding three different sized packages in his hands. They aren’t as pristinely wrapped as yours, but you can tell great care went into it and you wonder if Matt did it himself.

“Foggy said they will come over around noon,” he says like you aren’t on the verge of a crisis. “And Maggie was hoping we could stop by on the way to the park. I told her it would be up to you, but I know she has a few things for Minnie. We’re probably going to need to bring that wagon you got.”

The idea of so many people coming to your apartment for a party - especially a toddler’s birthday party - boggles your mind but your heart soars that so many people want to celebrate your daughter. You watch as he goes to add the gift pile and that confusing feeling swirls in your chest again, reminding you this is everything you ever wanted for Minnie. Matt being in your life means more people to love your daughter like she deserves.

“Okay,” you say because that is all your mind can produce. When Matt begins to stand again, you go into a panic thinking he might say something to start a conversation and blurt out, “I should get ready for bed.”

He turns to you, and you don’t know what to expect, but it is not for him to look bemused. He raises his eyebrows over his glasses and lets out a huff of a laugh, “It’s a big day tomorrow. You should get your rest.” He isn’t condescending or rude about it, but you can definitely hear the hint of teasing.

Your face burns as you nod and stupidly repeat, “It’s a big day.” You clear your throat to try and regain some composure and point towards the couch, “I, uh, left you out pillows and a blanket. The..uh..remote for the fan is on the coffee table. I readded the labels after Minnie tore them off.”

“Thank you,” he says with full sincerity, and you cannot take any more of his charm and muscular biceps.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” you tell him as you start to back up towards the bedroom. You know you should tell him about the fringe covering the hallway, but you just want to flee and hide under your covers until your brain stops all of its nonsense.

“Okay.”

As you finally let yourself turn away from Matt, he says your name just loud enough for you to barely hear it. You freeze in place, but it is like your blood is boiling inside you. You breathe out his name in response.

“Good night.”

((“I love you.”))

a/n: orz please take this offering of a chapter - my brain is not working up to standard.

Also - Tomorrow is a Big Day

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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wordsarelife · 2 days

Text

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: theo and you get your happy ever after

warnings: i don’t think there are any! let me know if that’s not true :)

note: here it is!! finally the epilogue is here! i loved writing this series so much!! please let me know what you thought of this chapter and/or the story in general!

!!!make sure to keep your eyes on the extras that are coming tomorrow (and feel free to request drabbles/ fics on future or past situtations in the don’t blame me universe, or questions you still have!! i will be thrilled to answer them!!)!!!

word count: 3.9k

note: not really happy with the outcome of this chapter, but whatever..

previous chapter | masterlist |

"mommy?“ a voice called and your head snapped to the side. "can you give me one of those paper towels?“

you rolled your eyes smiling at his antics and nodded, before you threw one in his direction.

"mate, you know i love you, but please stop acting out your mommy kink on my girlfriend“ theo hit mattheo's shoulder.

"well, y/n is the closest thing i have to a mother right now" mattheo argued dramatically "she takes care of me when i'm sick, she cuts apple slices for me—"

"—we've been on tour for two months" theo shook his head "it's not like you're never gonna see your mum again, get a grip"

"it's alright" you smiled. "i don't mind"

mattheo nodded "see?"

“yeah, whatever” theo shook his head “just get ready, please? we start in ten”

after the concert a few months ago, cursed legacy had gotten their record deal. dave had been impressed by their show, he wanted them to play opener for the rest of the following tour leg.

as soon as the school holidays began you joined them, traveling around the country.

theo and you couldn’t be happier. everything was going great and you were ready to tackle life together.

since the concert, theo had not stopped writing songs and they were only a month away from releasing their second album, soft death.

he was always talking about how you were the muse behind most of the songs. and you had to admit that they had never had so many love songs played (or written) before.

during the tour they had made many new fans, their followers growing while were getting more and more attention. they were already playing a few songs from the new album constantly and about you was a fan favorite. your favorite was echoes of devotion, which theo had written for you. it was the second song they played every night.

“see you later” mattheo took a look to his phone, checking the time, before he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek and quickly walked away.

theo rolled his eyes before he turned to you and gave you a long and passionate kiss, before he too took off after mattheo to get on stage.

you collected your things, before you started walking. you already knew that it would be hard to feel normal again once you were home in a month and college would start. how could you ever live a normal life after being treated like royalty?

you took your stage pass and walked in the direction of the tents. you hadn’t seen the rest of the band in hours. the reasons were simple enough. draco and blaise had made it their personal chore to walk around the venues before every show, claiming something about a good luck charm they absolutely needed. they had asked you to accompany them on a few occasions, which you did but quickly regretted after they spent the entire time talking about their hook ups from the night before.

they had already adopted the rockstar life style.

quite the opposite of that was enzo. he spent hours in the back of the bus, or in his hotel room, talking to april on his phone. she had come to a few shows, but she couldn’t be there constantly because of work and so they had decided to face time or text in any given moment. you rarely saw the boy without his phone.

april had been scared that their relationship would not last. she had feared that enzo would quickly realize how limiting a relationship was when there were a few hundred girls basically licking the ground on which he walked.

you had told her that enzo wasn’t like that, but you could still understand why she was feeling that way and promised to keep your eye on him.

enzo had done nothing more than proof the both of you terribly wrong. most of the time he did not even look into the direction of other girls, let alone talk to them.

that the rest of the band was busy could’ve been to your and theo’s advantage, making it possible to enjoy time for only the two of you, if there hadn’t been matt, who made it his personal task to follow you around like a lost puppy.

you loved him, you really did. during the time the both of you had only grown closer, going back to the sibling like relationship you had once had, but at times you wished he was anywhere else.

especially that one time when theo and you were making out on the couch of the tour bus and mattheo came barging in and acted like he didn’t know that he had just interrupted something, before he planted himself in the middle of theo and you and started playing star wars on the tv.

"good evening!" enzo's voice roared through the microphone, after they had come out and played only angel. the crowd cheered. "the next song we're gonna play is about a very special someone. our front man's girl to be exact. he's a very smitten man, so naturally, this is a very emotional love song, feel free to hold up your flashlights.. here is echoes of devotion!"

the crowd cheered once again, while you clapped your hands, your cheeks as red as the curtain next to the stage. theo's voice was always what started the song, he looked just as cheesy as you did, even if enzo had made it a habit to say the same lines every night, you and theo were still flustered about his words.

my love, like orpheus, i'd come,

to tread through shadows, my body numb,

but truth be told, in my hearts embrace,

i fear i'd falter, lose the race.

the music only set in after that. a steady and slow beat that was always responsible for your shiver as it guarded his voice through the chorus.

for i'd turn back, just like him,

my gaze would brake, our future grim,

your fading form, in shadows deep,

my love, too strong, my soul to keep.

the song was balancing right between breaking the crowds heart and animating them to sing along. it was the perfect mix of love and heartache, often making your eyes swell with tears, when you saw theo react the same way.

the song had a special place in both of your hearts. for one part, it was comparing you and theo to your favorite myth, which theo had done knowingly. and second, it reminded you both of how hard love could be, how even loving people deeply could led to hurting them.

it was one of the first songs theo did not sing entirely on his own. the second verse was accompanied by background vocals of the rest of the boys, making it sound almost dreamy and ethereal.

like orpheus, with his lyre's song,

i'd sing to you, all night long,

but in that moment, with fate's cruel twist,

i'd choose your eyes, and lose what's missed.

the second chorus was a little different to the first one, deeper, as theo had said.

for i'd turn back just like him,

the current stronger than we swim,

i'd face the darkness, lose my way,

for one more look, i'd gladly pay

"i don't understand" theo's voice was only above a whisper, making sure no one could hear you both in the treehouse. it was far too late for both of you anyway.

"what?" you had asked, looking up from the ipod in your hand.

"orpheus, that's his name, right?" the boy brushed his hair back, revealing his forehead. he hadn't gotten a haircut in ages, exclaiming something about girls finding him more attractive that way. you had spontaneously laughed at that prediction, considering you were the only girl he talked to. but the boy was fourteen and suddenly very interested in appealing to the opposite gender.

"what about him don't you understand?" you had the same tone in your voice your mother did when she would explain something to you and your brother.

"well, why does he turn around?" theo shrugged his shoulders, as he turned, facing away from you, to continue to paint doodles on the wall of the tree house. "he could've saved her if he had been stronger, if he had loved her enough he could've made it"

"it's not about that, theo" you had mused "orpheus looked back because he loved her so much, because the only way he could've saved her was if he had loved her less. but he didn't"

"i don't know, pixie" you send him a look upon the name, which he obviously couldn't see, your annoyance bouncing off of the back of his head. "i would be able to save you" his simple statement made the air freeze between the two of you, hitting deeper than it had been meant.

"then you don't love me enough" your voice was only a faint sound, but loud enough to make theo stop in his tracks.

without him noticing the irony of the situation, he turned around to look at you, his blue eyes crashing into yours. the softness in them almost made you shudder, asking yourself if the way you were feeling about him was totally normal. you did not have much experience with boys, but theo was different anyway, he was not like them, he was yours, without any requirements.

"no, i think i do" he whispered back, realizing that the quick act of him turning around had come right after you had simply doubted his love. he knew in that moment that it would never take much for him to turn around for you.

maybe it was the quiet of the night, or teenage hormones mixing up in the air, you weren't really sure later, but theo leaned across the space between you, gently grasping your lips with his, connecting them in a featherlight kiss.

there was no sound in the little room. there were only theo and you. and only your lips were touching.

for you're the melody that guides my soul,

through tempests wild and rivers cold,

i'll brave the depths, defy the night,

to hold your hand in morning light.

so here i stand, before your eyes,

with trembling heart, and no disguise,

to say, my love, in honesty,

i'd turn for your like orpheus for eurydice.

later that night, after the concert was finished and the band was saying their goodbyes, ready to leave the stage, you were waiting for theo behind the stage.

blaise and draco came down first, each of them ruffled your hair, before they walked away to find snacks.

enzo winked at you, holding his hand up for a high-five, which you gladly accepted.

matt plastered both of your cheeks with kisses, laughing deeply as you tried to slap him away.

all of the boys (except for theo of course) had grown to be like your brothers, but enzo and matt stood out the most. enzo was like the little brother you never had, especially because of his relationship with april.

mattheo had been protective of you ever since leo had brought you with him the first time at the age of five. he had looked out for you ever since, often joining forces with leo, when he forbid you from doing something.

even if you sometimes acted annoyed at him, you knew deep down that you needed matt, just as much as you needed your organs to survive. he had been (unlike theo at certain times) a constant in your life, you had never quite managed to get rid of. matt had made it clear to you that he wouldn't leave you alone. both of you were everything that was left of leo for the other.

you could see it in the way matt acted, when he would text you the most random things or when he was lifting you off the ground after he had predicted you would miss the single stair in front of your feet.

and he could see it in your face, as you scrunched your nose when you found something disgusting or when your eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. or sometimes, in the rare moments when his heart ached the most, when you would laugh, and immediately stop, as you both realized how much it sounded like your brother.

it was impossible for either of you to forget leo, if you had still so much left of him.

the cologne was the first thing that entered your nose and just a second after, theo rumbled down the stairs, heavy footsteps echoing over the instruments that were already being played on stage.

he was wearing a white shirt, he had gotten it himself, your name written over his heart with a cursive lilac thread. his hair was messy and a little bit sweaty. you remembered the heat of the stage lights from the night of the concert months ago and your skin burned.

his jeans were dark and loose, you had joked that he needed to wear skinny jeans, because he was in a boyband. you had to search for a picture of harry styles, for him to believe that that used to be a thing.

his face lit up when his eyes fell on you. he pecked your lips, as he threw an arm across your shoulder. another kiss to your hair following.

"my dad messaged me" you said as you walked further behind the stage.

theo perked up at that "will he meet us for dinner?"

"yeah, yeah" you rolled your eyes, uninterested in talking about the boring information. you grinned, as you halted in your step, taking his hand in yours, as you almost jumped up and down from excitement. "we will probaly see a whole lot of him in the future"

theo raised his brows, confused what you were hinting at. your smile grew bigger as you could see the realization set in on his face.

"cadence?" he asked, not quite believing it.

you quickly nodded your head, your excitement resulting in a giggle, as he threw his arms around your body, pulling you close to his chest.

theo had applied to the college months ago. your father had just texted you to tell you that he was in. the mail was only being sent out the coming week and he wanted theo to know. that's also why your father had a lot of connections in the music world and was friends with dave fraser, the guy that had given the guys the record deal. he had worked at the college for the past twenty years, it was a big one, similiar to juilliard, but stationed in england.

while theo would go there, you had applied to many schools close to his (which included, but was not limited to oxford and camebridge). the acceptance letter for camebridge had come last week and the joy on theo's face had been incomparable.

"so it's happening" theo muttered in your ear "we'll both stay"

"i'm going nowhere" you assured, as you intertwined your hands, leading theo back to the tour bus, that would start driving to it's next destination in only a few hours.

"me neither, for now we have seen enough of the world to last us for a few years to come"

"are you joining in?" matt asked when the two of you entered the bus. the rest of the boys were sitting around the table, matt sorting poker chips and enzo's phone was propped up in the middle of the table, april's laughing face on it's screen.

"hey guys!" april smiled.

"hey stranger" you giggled.

"mate, could you please grab the cookies y/n's mum send her?"

"hey, those are for me" you protested.

matt shrugged "well the bus was only for us and i'm still sharing it with you"

you sighed, before you gave theo the okay to get them.

"only two more weeks and you're coming home" april was close to screaming of excitement "it's so boring without you guys. i even began missing blaise"

"hey!" blaise protested, as he grabbed the phone and turned it in his direction, so april was able to see the offended expression on his face.

"yeah, sorry" april muttered "now turn me back"

actually, even if you enjoyed all the special treatment you were receiving on this tour, you couldn't wait to go back home. you couldn't wait for life to be a bit more normal again, even though you were sure that it wouldn't take long before the boys would have their own concerts.

you couldn't wait to watch them grow, but for now, you savored every moment, as long as they still belonged solemnly to you.

"who's gonna start?" mattheo threw the last of the chips down, looking between the rest of you for help.

"i thought you read the rules" draco exclaimed confused.

"well, no" mattheo shook his head "blaise was supposed to"

blaise shook his head repeatedly, claiming to not have been part of mattheo's scheme. the boys began fighting, pointing at each other accusingly.

theo and you exchanged a glance, before you suggested to play a few simple rounds of uno, which everyone agreed on and quickly quieted down.

now everything was finally right and if you could talk to her, you would like to tell your younger self that everything would be alright one day and that she didn't have to be as scared of the future.

a few weeks later, when you were back home, theo helped you pack your things up in your room.

the rest of the tour had gone by in a breeze, and even if all of them decided to concentrate on studying at their respective schools, the band still existed and even dave fraser promised that the career of cursed legacy was far from over. soft death had already been recorded and was coming out in two weeks.

"what's that?" theo asked as he fished a folded piece of paper out of your backpack.

"oh" you furrowed you brows. "i thought i had thrown that away" you shrugged.

"well, what's on it?"

"after i first listened to pixie dream girl, april made me write down my feelings and burn the papers. she was scared that i would do something i would regret" you send him a look.

"okay..but why do you have it if it got burned?" he pressed.

"because i wanted something to remind myself how i felt about all of this"

"am i allowed to read it?" theo asked expectingly "it probably won't be nice"

"i don't care" you shrugged "go on"

theo unfolded the paper, his breath hitching as he read the words you had written. he looked up in surprise and you smiled. "that's—" he mumbled, but couldn't find the right words, surprise and love making it hard to concentrate.

"not mean?" you helped.

theo grinned, before he folded the paper up again and put it in his pocket "i want to keep it"

you smiled and nodded.

and after all this, you stupid stupid boy, you had written that day, you are still the only one my heart wants to know.

you and theo kept your eyes on each other, not one of you daring to look away. you could see every version in him, every stage of his life was readable from his eyes. even that night was readable and you wondered if the was thinking about the same thing you were.

"what was that?" you had asked, your voice raised above the normal whisper.

"what?" theo muttered, feigning innocence. you would've almost believed you had imagined the kiss, but the lipgloss on theo's mouth was telling a different story.

"you kissed me"

"ugh, no?" theo shook his head, crossing his arms defensively.

"ugh, yes?" you outstretched your hand, pointing to his lips. "there, cherry lipgloss"

theo rubbed his mouth in a quick gesture, getting rid of the evidence "where?" he asked, fluttering his eyes.

"right there!" you insisted, fighting back a laugh at his attempt to play it cool.

theo smiled softly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of fondness and mischief. "okay, fine. maybe i did."

your heart raced as you struggled to find the right words. "why?"

his expression softened, and he reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "because... i wanted to."

"okay" you nodded, your voice only above a whisper. "but friends don't—“

"i know" theo had interrupted you. "i'm sorry"

something had shifted between you that night in the tree house, or at least for theo it had. it was like you were the only girl that mattered, like you were the only one that mattered. something about that scared him immensely.

you waited for him to say something. to explain to you what it meant for you, for your friendship. but his eyes were as big as yours and his mind wandered twice as fast. "we are friends" he muttered finally, as if to remind himself.

you nodded, taking it as answer enough.

the years turned faster than the pages of a book, you grew older, stayed inside your rooms when it got dark outside and you and theo never spoke of the night in the treehouse again.

neither of you had known what to say so you rather said nothing.

theo's last words to you that night, replayed themselves over and over again in your mind for the years to follow, even if both of you continued being friends normally.

"i couldn't help it" he had muttered, right after both of you had climbed down the ladder and were ready to go your separate ways.

you smiled at his honesty, as you held back a giggle. you couldn't see his face in the dark, the candle in the lantern you had brought with you had burned down completely, but you had a feeling that he felt the same mix of awkwardness and simple happiness you did.

"will you do that again?" you asked, feeling brave now that he was unable to see your face in the darkness.

air escaped from his nostrils, as he stifled a laugh at your question. "i'm not sure" he said.

"okay"

the air between you was quiet and still and you turned around before you softly walked the path between both of your houses in the direction of the balcony you had climbed down a few hours ago.

the sound of his voice had you stop in your tracks.

"but if it some day comes over me, and maybe it will.." he paused, seemingly searching for the right words.

you listened to him attentively, as your heart fluttered at his implication. it was like you could almost see the colour of his eyes, even if he was standing a few meters across from you, his body standing out against the light of the lantern down the street.

he was standing, his body facing in your direction and simply knowing that he was looking at you made your tummy churn. was this what friendship was supposed to be? or was it something different? was this love? did love really feel like that or where you going crazy?

theo cleared his throat, as he raised his voice so you could hear him clearly over the distance between you "just... don't blame me"

taglist: @7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555 @sakanelli-afc @cobrakaisb @ellen3101 @simp-for-fantasy @the-sylver-dragon @ess-perspective @starsval

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ennard-is-near · 1 day

Text

Henry was lying, I think, about Michael finding a job listing not intended for him. I don’t know why he would do that, why he wouldn’t talk to Michael first or be upfront with him about the plan, I could guess, but I’ll never know. But I believe that there’s no way anyone else would have taken a job running a franchise for a failing 80s child murder restaurant, and I believe Henry knew that.

But the way he speaks about ensuring nobody remembers the Pizzeria, the fact that the office is set in the middle of everything so it would be nearly impossible to make an escape route for a person without having animatronics loose, the fact that he trusted a seemingly random employee to do what needed to be done for his plan to work, hell even the way the promotional and welcome tapes frame the restaurant seem to want to scare people off. It just doesn’t add up to “let’s get a random guy in here to do the dirty work and go home safe.” Instead, it seems more like “Let’s make sure that there are no more cryptids running around as a result of William’s actions. We can lure them, make them come willingly.” And Michael is easy to lure to the restaurant. In fact, Henry knows that he’ll apply to work there.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #michael afton #henry emily #fnaf 6 #fnaf ffps #fnaf pizzeria simulator #my headcanons #Okay so… I think Henry lied basically #maybe it was to spare Michael’s feelings or whatever #amazing how this is the second time he fell for a long and complicated series of lies that got him killed #he will not learn #and now he’s dead #or maybe not honestly #anyway this isn’t canon but it’s canon to me #I just can’t accept that Henry would let Michael keep living his life #he probably knew somehow that he had been killed or at least knew that something was up with him #especially because he thinks he’s doing a big favor to everyone by killing them (and he probably is lol)#but whether it’s from a place of malice or care or he is apathetic to Michael I just can’t imagine him letting this one freaky cryptid stay

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 1 day

Text

6/18/2024 - 06/19/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Leslie Jones; Vico Ortiz; Nathan Foad; Anapela Polataivao; Kristian Nairn; Dominic Burgess; Kay Buchanan; Relax I'm From The Future Special Edition; Articles; Fiber Arts Brigade; Gotcha for Gaza; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Today's Taika;

== Rhys Darby ==

So Rhys has decided to send us all to Costa Rica again.

The running theory as to WHY Rhys has decided to give us a topless shot is because of this lovely post by our dear crewmate Moosh, where they requested we post tits on the tl when WBD got down to below $7.

Now that was back on June 17th. Guess what just so happened to happen on June 18th?

So yes, the current theory is that Rhys quite literally did #TitsUpWBD for all of us. Just. Wow.

Source: Rhys Darby Instagram / Moosh's Twitter / WBD Nasdaq

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika was out at the premier of The BikeRiders! Lots of shots both on and off the carpet! Are those Pearls I spot?

@keshiasih's Instagram

Bikeridersfilm Instagram / TylerDisneyOfficial Instagram

Source: @fuckyeahworldoftaika's Tumblr

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico's got so much going on! Spark comes out on the 24th! Don't tell my Mother comes out on the 25th! Spark Film / Don't Tell My Mother

Source: Vico Ortiz Instagram

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie's gonna be doing live showes starting in Sept! Preorders are live tonight through tomorrow at 10pm local. https://linktr.ee/lesdogggg

Source: Leslie Jones Twitter

== Kristian Nairn ==

Reminder! Kristian is going to Yorkshire Comic Con this weekend! If you're in town consider dropping by! He also just dropped another episode of Spektrum! Check it out in the link below. https://linktr.ee/kristiannairn

Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

== Anapela Polataivao ==

Did you know that our dear Auntie directed the new performance of Red White and Brass going on in AoNZ? Well she's out at the premiere! If you're in AoNZ please check them out!

Source: Anapela's Instagram

== Nathan Foad ==

Nathan out and about with friends!

Source: MonicaHeisey's Instagram / Nathan's Instagram Stories

== Dominic Burgess ==

Dominic is up for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Limited or Anthology Series for American Horror Stor:y Delicate! Keeping fingers crossed Dominic gets an Emmy!

Source: Dominic's Twitter

== Kay Buchanan ==

Our lovely leatherworker Kay Buchanan has posted some more pictures (some dupes some not) of more leather work she did for OFMD! I ran out of image room on the recap so I made a side post-- please visit it below to see more!

More parephenalia BTS

Source: Kay Buchanan's Instagram

== Relax I'm From The Future ==

One of Rhys' movies-- Relax I'm From The Future has come out with a special edition version with additional improv by Rhys and much more! The link is below! Amazon Link

Source: Luke Higginson's Twitter

== Articles ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew spotlighted another article related to WBD. Warner Bros Discovery Falls Apart.

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== Gotcha For Gaza ==

The awesome people over at @ofmdaction are still looking for more writers and artists! If you're interested please sign up here! More information on the event here!

Source: OFMDAction Twitter

== Fiber Arts Brigade ==

Our crewmates over at the Fiber Arts Brigade have reached their first and second tier goal for the #ThriveAsACrew fundraiser for SAGE USA! They've put together the first and second Cameo reward (provided by a generous donor, NOT from the raised funds) and you're welcome to check them out! 1st Up is Christopher Corbin (aka Magic Man in the Republic of Pirates)! You can watch it on their Twitter/Facebook page!

2nd is Damien Gerard! (aka Father Teach)

youtube

"Interested in donating to SAGE and getting to the next tier of the Cameo rewards? Please visit #ThriveAsACrew in support of SageUSA! Haven't had a chance to see which auction items were listed today? Check them out here: FiberArtBrigade Ebay Or...Want to donate a textile item of your own to be included in round two for release next weekend? Visit the Donation Form!" Source: Fiber Arts Brigade Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight's first Cast Card features Yvonne Zima! One of our lovely writers, as well as "an actress featured on the hoity-toity party boat listed as Fleur de Maquis"! Next up is Richard B. another one of the folks in The Republic of Pirates! Thank you @melvisik for keeping up with these even on your vacation!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! I realise it's a double day today but I wanted to say Happy Juneteenth to all our crewmates out there. This really is an important day in American History, and it continues to highlight each year why it's so important we learn from history and we don't white wash or shy away from the hard topics of our past. Today I'd like to share some quotes/love notes from Cole Arthur Riley, and some of histories brilliant Black writers/philosophers. Take care lovelies, rest well, we've only got half a week left, and then it's back to the weekend. Sending so much love your way.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Black Liturgies (@blackliturgies)

instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Black Liturgies (@blackliturgies)

instagram

Source: Black Liturgies on Instagram

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Today's theme is Relax I'm from the future, and because Taika is not in that movie, I'm gonna use one of my favorite reaction gifs instead. It will never get old. Gifs courtesy of the absolutely sweetest, most amazing folks out there, @bizarrelittlemew and @ofmd-ann. Tumblr would be a sad, lonely place without all the lovely gifs you both bring to it <3

#ofmd #ofmd daily recap #our flag means death #rhys darby #taika waititi #nathan foad #Youtube #Instagram

81 notes · View notes

daistea · 17 hours

Note

Alright so to answer your question, the reader is around their age but maybe slightly older than his brother, and would always reject Mithrun's advances because they think it's inappropriate

You said headcanons in the original request, I hope it’s okay that I added some writing as well!

The name I give his brother is Arendil, totally stolen from another series with elves and kind of a cliche name, but it’s stuck with me and personally it would feel weird calling him anything else because that’s what I’m used to.

This is a little more angsty than I expected it to be, tbh :/ Sorry if you don't like angst, I kinda just can't help but pick apart pre-dungeon Mithrun like this.

2700 words

No tw

Pre-Dungeon Mithrun x gn Reader

●・○・●・○・●

Mithrun was probably a very good boy growing up. He tried so hard, he wanted everybody to like him, and he was a hardcore people pleaser.

However, once he finds out that he’s the one born out of infidelity, the resentment starts to sink in. I like to think this happens when he’s in his early teens, when he actually takes a look at his family and starts to realize that he’s not truly the favorite.

His parents treat him like he’s the favorite, and in a way they do prefer him over his brother, but in the end they’re always going to choose his brother because he’s the rightful heir and the oldest, and I think Elven culture would prioritize that more than personality.

That probably becomes clear to Mithrun early on, just through little things. His sense of worth starts to crumble and he desperately grasps at any opportunity to be the one people prefer, which eventually turns him into the fake-nice, outwardly charming, judgmental, distrustful, bitter boy we know.

Onto you. As a caretaker and important aspect of Mithrun’s life, he would crave your approval. I don’t think he’d be outwardly mean to servants and helpers, because despite their lower stations he would want them all to like him and think well of him. Since you’re especially close to him and Arendil, he would crave your attention even more.

As you both get older, though, he starts noticing more about you…

I headcanon that Mithrun was pretty flirty at this point in life. He won’t open up or be vulnerable for anybody, but he will try to charm his way into your heart just to fulfill his own desire to be wanted.

Except… You don’t seem to want him.

He first notices your rejection of his advances a year or two before he’s sent to join the Canaries.

You felt Mithrun’s eyes on your form. They were steady, intense, and held implications that you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge. You tried your best to ignore the feeling, but the hairs on the back of your neck still stood to attention, and your heart still clenched.

Resisting the urge to comment on the situation grew more difficult the longer time passed. “Mithrun,” you sighed, “can I help you with something?”

He raised his brows and smiled pleasantly. His head was tilted, his fingers pressed into his cheekbone as he leaned against the table beside his chair. “Yes, actually, you can.”

You wanted to groan. Having basically grown up with Mithrun and his brother, you had the pass to be a little snarky with the boys. Yet the look in his eyes told you that now wasn’t the time. He would grab onto your sarcasm and use it like a rope to pull you forward, into him, into the trap he set. Mithrun’s games had only gotten more subtle with age.

“I can’t imagine with what,” you said, keeping your voice level and disinterested, “the laundry is done, the manor is clean, and you’ve already eaten.”

Mithrun remained pleasantly unphased, “Do you really think that’s all I would need you for?”

“I don’t. However, there’s no other service I’m willing to offer.”

That was enough to break his demeanor, to shatter the glass he hid behind. His smile faltered for half a second and his shoulders tensed. “We’re friends, please don’t talk as if a caretaker is all you are.”

You knew that. Yet, at the moment, you were just a caretaker. You refused to be more to him— not out of dislike or a lack of attraction to the youngest Kerensil brother, but more because you were professional. It would be inappropriate to let yourself feel anything beyond what was platonic.

He watched as you shifted uncomfortably. His brows furrowed, and you finally met his unyielding gaze. “We are friends, you’re right,” you said.

Mithrun finally looked away. Relief flooded your chest as he chose to instead stare at the wall in thought. “I’ve known you all my life. You’ve never treated me lesser because of my biological father, or because I’m younger, or because I’m not the heir. You’ve always seen me and Arendil… equally.” Mithrun said the word ‘equally’ as if it was a bad thing. He only let his scowl last for half a second before he schooled his expression and continued, “You know I appreciate you, right?”

For once, he seemed genuine. You felt yourself melt a little. “I know.”

“You know, I…”

A pause for dramatic effect, of course, letting the anticipation rise so you would be appropriately charmed by his next words. You put up a hand to stop him, “I know you're just trying to get me to like you more than Arendil."

Mithrun’s eyes widened, “That’s not it.”

That was definitely it.

“I know you. I know how you are,” you said as you turned around to continue folding laundry, an excuse to keep your nervous hands busy.

Another pause followed your words. Then, “...You know me?”

You nodded.

Mithrun allowed himself to frown. It was flattering, in a way, that he would let his true emotions show in front of you.

He looked at you differently, then. There was no more charm in his stare, no more sparks of attraction. As you met his eyes, they widened slightly. His smile shook and his brows furrowed to create a little crease on his forehead.

You realized it, then, that Mithrun was unnerved.

Of course he was unnerved, he’d just realized you could see right through him.

“Sorry,” you couldn’t help but apologize, though you knew you’d done nothing wrong, “I probably went too far with that comment.”

A beat of silence passed. Your hands lingered on the shirt you were folding, while Mithrun’s hands tightened as he crossed his arms over his chest, closing you off.

Still, he seemed to prepare himself for the sliver of vulnerability that he was willing to offer. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re the only one who actually knows me.”

You had to resist the urge to say ‘well, who’s fault is that?’

Instead, you nodded, “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Truly?”

“Truly,” you echoed.

Mithrun leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath. His chest rose and fell and he closed his eyes. A silver curl fell into his face as he tilted his head into his hand. He was letting the words sink in, the implication take root.

All you could do was wonder what might come of this.

Mithrun falls in love slowly. He does not enjoy it.

He goes through four of the seven stages of grief.

Shock and denial: ‘I don’t see them in that way, their smile is just pretty and my heart only skips when they look at me because we’re friends.’

Pain and guilt: ‘I shouldn’t be feeling this way about them, they're my caretaker...’

Anger and bargaining: ‘Maybe if they weren’t so considerate and wonderful then I wouldn’t be feeling this way. How annoying. Perhaps I can convince them to choose me in the end, or at least get their attention on me.’

Depression: ‘They will never love me the way I love them…’

This elf is suffering. Nobody knows that, though, because he’s an expert at hiding it.

But in the end, Mithrun shrugs it all off and decides that he wants you.

When he sees you giving his brother attention, Mithrun feels the deep urge to rip out his brother’s throat. Then he chides himself for being so violent, the blood would make stains on the floor and you’d be angry with him…

Still, you treat them both equally. It drives him up a wall. You obviously don’t prefer his brother over him in any way, but that’s not good enough for Mithrun. He wants all of you. He wants every ounce of your love and care, with absolutely nothing left for Arendil to take, like he does with everything else. (Mithrun has very little self-awareness of how warped his view is at this point.)

Part of his desire for you stems from the need to possess, his insecurity, his desire to be loved, to be the favorite. However, beneath all of that, there’s more. Mithrun also appreciates and admires you as a person. You’re one of the few people that he trusts and can be himself around. You encourage him to be a better person— he doesn’t take that encouragement, but it’s still a nice quality of yours.

And you make him feel important. How could he not fall in love with you?

Yet, he doesn’t quite comprehend the complexities of genuine love.

“I think you should know that I’m—”

You clamped your hand over his mouth. It was like a door shutting in his face, barring him from treading down a dangerous path. His eyes widened and he leaned back to get away from you, but you kept your hand where it was.

The grass beneath your knees was soft. The shade from the tree you and Mithrun sat under was pleasant. And the topic of conversation was horrifying.

“Don’t,” you told him, “I know what you’re going to say and…”

And what? The words ‘it’s inappropriate’ sat on your tongue, but was that truly the only reason you stopped him? It was a good excuse, certainly, but the tangled knot of your relationship with Mithrun wasn’t ready to be unraveled quite yet.

When he gave you a look that provided a slight bit of reassurance, you let him go. You sat back, folding your hands on your knees and meeting his silver gaze. His head was tilted down a little as he stared at you. His brain was working overtime, most likely churning out a myriad of thoughts like those factory lines in Dwarven cities. There was anger, betrayal, hurt, resentment, fear. You accepted each flash of emotion like a prisoner accepts the crack of a whip— which was begrudgingly, but with no choice in the matter.

“I love you,” Mithrun whispered, despite it all.

“I know,” was the only response you could give him.

Yet, he had his shovel ready, willing to dig up this grave. “Why?”

“Why am I not returning your feelings?” You asked, though you already knew that was what he was asking. With a sigh, you absently twirled a blade of grass around your index finger, then continued, “Because I care about you, I really do. And I don’t want to ruin us.”

His expression hardened, “How would this ruin us?”

You looked up to meet his eyes once more, “You only want me because you want to be loved, and I’m the best candidate for that. You don’t want me for me, you want me for you.”

“How could you possibly know that?” He seethed.

“Because I know you,” you murmured, “I know you far too well.”

Mithrun is determined to understand what you mean. However, he doesn’t really have anybody to ask for advice on that particular matter.

He isn’t one to settle unless necessary. But it’s starting to feel necessary, with how often you stop him from confessing, with how you avoid his touch, with how you won’t hold his gaze most of the time.

Mithrun is going mad.

He doesn't particularly care about the girl his brother likes, since his mind is on you, but it's offensive to him that his brother thinks he has a chance with such a cute and refined girl.

It does please Mithrun, though, that Arendil is not interested in you. That makes things easier and slightly calms his boiling blood.

However, the fact that someone actually likes Arendil back drives him a bit mad too.

You call him out on this, saying that he’s like a toddler who only wants a certain toy when another kid is playing with it. He chooses to ignore that comparison.

He still very much has feelings for you. He does whatever you ask, though you never ask for anything, really. If you mention that you like a certain item, he’ll get it for you. If you mention that you want to see a certain play, he suddenly has two tickets to it.

He is doing his best to court you and you know it, his parents know it, everybody knows it.

You try to sway him away from doing these things. It’s not proper for him to act like that. He agrees, with his desire to keep a good reputation amongst the nobility and his peers. However, that doesn’t stop him from trying to win you over in secret. (Which doesn’t actually help his case much, because you can’t help but think ‘he’s ashamed of having feelings for a servant. wow.’)

At this point in life, Mithrun does genuinely like people and can be truly cheerful and kind. He’s a social butterfly and enjoys chatting. You allow these interactions, spending hours just talking with him. It’s so easy, it’s so comfortable. Those moments are when you’re closest to being pulled into his path; when his gravity threatens to steal you, a passing comet, and hold you hostage in his orbit.

And sometimes you wonder what it would be like to give in.

Mithrun knows you wonder that, though, because he knows you just as well as you know him. And he uses that to his advantage, of course.

He shamelessly flirts when you’re alone together. He’ll brush your hair out of your face and let the tips of his fingers gently caress the edges of your ear. And when you shiver despite your best attempts not to, he only smiles. He knows when he's winning.

He would whisper to you a lot. He likes people-watching and has a lot to say. He can be a total Regina George when he wants to.

But really, he does like people, he just can’t help but be distrusting and judgmental. His entire self is a result of elven society mixed with subtle emotional neglect.

Somehow, Mithrun has both an inferiority complex and a superiority complex. It just depends on the situation.

He’s very jealous. And he gets clingy when he’s jealous, especially if you’re paying attention to his brother. He’ll swoop in, put his hand on your back, start flirting with you, etc. I headcanon that his brother is incredibly oblivious, but kind, and just thinks to himself ‘wow I’m so happy my little brother has found love : )’

You’re not together though. You slip away from his touch often. You ignore his flirting. You maintain your dignity and position.

Except for when his family receives the letter about the Canaries recruitment. And they announce that they’re sending Mithrun. They give this speech about how he’s bringing honor to the House of Kerensil by fighting the evil that exists in this world… Mithrun knows it's a load of crap. His parents are sending him to his death.

It’s the biggest proof that he’s not their favorite, that he’ll never be their favorite. No matter how much they talk up his charm and looks, he’s still the bastard son. He’s a trinket on their shelf, but if they need to make room they won’t hesitate to store him in a dusty box in the basement.

And his brother gets to live; sweet and innocent and ignorant, undeserving of all that he gets. Mithrun hates the air he breathes.

And when he’s about to leave for the Canaries, you finally admit it. You admit that you love him. And…

His bitterness only grows. If he wasn’t sent to the Canaries… If he was the first born, the heir, the one that was wanted…

In the dungeon, he sees how his brother gets the girl. The girl doesn’t matter, it’s what that image represents that angers him. It’s what his world looks like now; he’s a slave to the government sponsored death squad, and his brother is getting all he’s ever wanted.

And then there’s you. You love him, but can you be together? No.

With mirror shards on the floor and the soft clop of hooves, Mithrun's life changes entirely.

#mithrun #asks #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #mithrun x reader #mithrun of the house of kerensil #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi x reader #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader

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superblysubpar · 3 days

Text

<- part two | part four -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: You don’t like Steve Harrington.

the song: Hypotheticals by Lake Street Drive

also for your listening pleasure: Alone by Heart

3,349 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / alcohol consumption & mentions / thunderstorm mentions / wearing steve’s clothing, but size isn’t mentioned | my blog is 18+

AN: sorry for the delay, and for another “cliff-hanger” type ending, but I promise this next chapter, chapter four is meaty, and long, and I hope makes up for it. Also, I’ll probably post two chapters this next Monday, since I was late with this one. Thanks for your continued support, comments, messages, reblogs. I had this story locked away since December and really doubted it, and I really can’t express how much finally sharing it and you all reading it means! Thanks for being here 💛

A house on Cornwallis Street - Monday

Steve shifts against the leather seat, wet denim making a squeaking sound that’s loud enough to be heard over the rain pelting the windows and the faint piano intro that has you reaching towards the radio on impulse.

As the turn signal clicks rhythmically with the wipers, your hand stalls halfway to the dial when Steve looks over at you.

He nods his head towards the radio, relaxed as he makes the turn onto his street, though his fingers hold the steering wheel at a responsible ten and two.

“You can turn it up, doesn’t bother me. S’good song.”

You hum some sort of agreement, nudging the dial a touch louder, so Heart’s ballad can be fully heard.

His head tilts, thumb tapping the leather of the steering wheel in perfect time with the beat of the song.

The lyrics aren’t lost on you, and instead of wondering if Steve also knows all the words, you turn to look out the window.

Right at the wrong moment.

The flinch of your shoulders is involuntary, and so is how the jerk of your head to face forward again makes the wrap of his fingers around the wheel tighter. Passing the house makes his stomach churn more than yours, especially when your whisper is almost lost to the wailing lead vocals of the chorus.

“Forgot you lived on the same street.”

“Yeah.”

Steve bites his cheek, unsure of what else to say. Should he say he’s sorry, all these years later? Will that just make it worse? Should he make a joke? But would you think that means he doesn’t care?

You’re lost in memories of a car not unlike this one. Of a humiliating night at a house on this street. Of a beer thrown in a face and a pair of heels left in a yard.

So when your name is spoken softly, quieter than he usually is, you’re shocked to see the car is in park in a driveway of a large house, off, and Steve’s lips are parting under eyes that are looking at you with the same pity he had that night.

You quickly unsnap the seatbelt, and practically fling yourself out of the passenger door, squinting under the heavy drops of rain smacking your face as you run up the pavement towards a front door you never thought you’d be entering.

Steve is right behind you, breathing heavily as he shakes his hair out like a wet dog, rubbing a large palm down his face as he shoves a key in the lock.

Stepping inside the foyer of Steve Harrington’s house is surreal.

Not only because you’re standing in the home of the man you’ve sworn you hate, but it’s picture perfect. It’s one of those houses that feels like it belongs in a magazine or one of those books your parents used to keep on the coffee table. There’s sparse wall decorations and furniture, though all of it high end - rich woods and soft neutrals, abstract art. There’s a ton of natural lighting that you can see is casting his home in a soft blue glow even through the storm.

Steve flicks on the entryway lamp, warm light illuminating where he hangs his family video vest on a hook. He kicks off his Nike’s that squish and squelch as the toe knocks against the heel then the floor.

He starts to step out of the foyer, calling over his shoulder, “I don’t care, but my mom will most likely murder you if you leave your shoes on.”

You’re not sure if he means he doesn’t care if you leave them on and it’s your choice whether to risk the wrath of Mrs. Harrington, or if he doesn’t care if she kills you.

The thought of leaving your feet trapped inside wet leather boots for who knows how long makes you shudder, so you’re quick to unlace them and leave them next to Steve’s muddied sneakers.

Your vest is removed next, hung next to his with a frown as you watch it drip onto the hardwoods. When you glance up to ask if you should move them to somewhere less prone to water damage, Steve is gone.

“Harrington?” you call out, arms wrapping around yourself as you risk a step further into the house.

“In here!” he yells, past the staircase and around a corner.

Venturing deeper, wet socks leave darker marks on cream carpet in a small den. A cozy and large green armchair and desk, and dark wood bookcases that sit mostly empty frame a wide set of sliding glass doors that look out at a pool. The bright and normally calm turquoise surface interrupted with the rain, ripples running across it to tiled edges.

Opening and closing of wood doors from behind you pulls you from your trance in front of the pool, spinning to see Steve standing in a kitchen that’s just as nice as this room. White tiled floors contrast with a green walls and warm wood cabinets. He’s pulling a bag of pretzels from a cupboard, a jar of peanut butter, and Oreos. He drops the snacks in a heap on the large center island before he looks up at you.

“Figured we might need some snacks while we wait it out. Want something to drink too?”

Before you can respond, he’s already spinning towards the other end of the room, speaking with his hands about how peanut butter always makes him thirsty.

You drip on the tiles of the Harrington’s kitchen, shivering as Steve speaks into the fridge.

“Do you want…shit, um, I have beer? Or water? A thing that I think is a tomato? Which isn’t really a drink so I don’t know why I’m still talking about it…”

His shoulders flex under the damp light blue cotton of his shirt, his hand runs through his hair before he reaches in to grab something.

When you remain silent, he looks over his shoulder, and you’re sure he’s caught you staring at the sliver of his stomach that became revealed when he stretched for the beers now in his hands.

But then he quickly stands up straight, fridge door swinging shut behind him as he carelessly lets the two cans slide onto the counter top.

“Shit, I didn’t even…I’m freezing so you must…and I’m sorry, I-“

A crack of thunder that seems to come from inside the house makes you both jump, bringing forth two sudden realizations to your mind.

The first, found out from the way Steve’s hands shake again, and the way his gaze darts out the windows showing inky clouds against an eerie, almost green tinted sky.

Steve Harrington is nervous.

The second realization comes from your step towards him. Maybe you were on your way to comfort him, maybe it was to punch his shoulder and taunt him. Either way, the step reminds you that you’re dripping water and making a nice puddle all over Mrs. Harrington’s pristine tiles.

Which just so happen to be the same lovely shade as your shirt.

And maybe both the white cotton and the pink lace that sits beneath it leave little to the imagination when frigid AC and damp clothing combine against sensitive skin.

Your arms slowly cross over your chest, hugging yourself as you finally manage to let out a breathy exhale and the words, “I love beer.”

Steve’s lips twitch, lifting on the left in a lopsided smile, a far away look as he stares at you from the other side of the kitchen and quietly asks, “Yeah?”

Despite what your nipples would like to convey, his stare heats you from the inside out, convincing you that lightening has struck the house and you’re on fire. So you don’t really think you’re lying when you say, “And I’m not cold.”

Steve’s cheeks are pink as he gestures to the counter top, “Okay, sure. Well I’m hard,” he squeezes his eyes shut and quickly corrects, “Cold! I’m cold, and I’m, um, if you wanna carry that stuff, I’m gonna grab clothes and we can go down to the basement.”

He quickly shuffles around the island, making sure he leaves the three feet of counter between you till he slips out of the room with cheeks darkening to the color of your bra. He goes so fast he misses the way you bite your lip and hide a smile.

But as his feet pound on the stairs, you stand up straighter and slap your hands to your cheeks.

No.

Nope.

Not. Happening.

You don’t like him.

Settling the beers and snacks against your chest and in your arms, you head back the way you came, slowing as you see photos on the shelves.

The typical posed family portrait, hands on his shoulders, Steve stiff in a white button down shirt and tie at various ages. But there’s one that catches your eye - tucked behind a larger frame. It rests behind the dusty glass off center, at an angle, edges worn.

A much younger Steve faces the camera, one eye squinted shut, holding up an ice cream cone proudly, with chocolate smeared across his lips and cheeks. And then you see the building behind him, the little girl leaving the frame, the back of her hand just visible - showing off a painted and sparkly tiger that matched her green nail polish.

You don’t like him.

“Hey,” he calls from the hallway, pulling you away from spiraling thoughts. Steve stands in the doorway, holding clothes in his arms, his eyes look at the picture, then back at you. He nods his head towards the door behind him and swallows, “It’s getting pretty dark and spooky out there, think we should get down to the basement?”

Without the thoughts of a hot summer night and a cute boy who offered to share his ice cream with you, and that same boy who ruined everything that same night clouding your vision, you now see the sky has gone almost black, the pool water calm and undisturbed.

You can’t look away, wanting to sit and watch the storm continue to roll in, to see what it destroys. Like an accident, you can’t help it. Thunder rumbles, lightening flashes, and Steve says your name softly, pleading, and it snaps you out of it.

His arms that hold the clothes flex, blue cotton tightening on his shoulders as they hunch when the crack of the thunder makes you jump and him clear his throat.

He opens a door opposite the room, flicking on the light before turning to make sure you’re following him. Once you close the door behind you, you continue down the creaky stairs, until Steve stops abruptly and spins, his face level with your chest as he looks up at you with a winced, “Before you yell at me, there’s something you should know.”

“What,” you laugh, shifting awkwardly on the dimly lit staircase, “The thunderstorm isn’t real, all lab created and fake movie effects done by the little twerps that follow you around because you promised them free rides for life if you helped seal this bet’s fate?”

Steve groans, hanging his head backwards before he faces you again with a smile. “Shit. Why did I not think of that?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” you whisper, ignoring the way your hand itches to touch the three freckles that crinkle next to his eye when he smiles.

“Right,” Steve nods, “As we established during fake-tits-gate. But no,” he laughs, turning back around, “I have a bunch of stolen rentals down here that Keith and you have been asking about for like two months.”

You don’t know if you want to smack him for saying the word tits, or laugh and sort of turn into a gooey puddle because of it, or yell at him for the clear work violation.

So you settle on none of it, only admitting a small sigh and then mumbling, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me? Sure would help me out with this whole bet thing.” He spins with a grin and you narrow your eyes. But he persists, raising a right hand, “I swear, it’ll be great for you. I’ll do all the work. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a boy scout,” you accuse, ignoring the way your heartbeat seems to sound a little louder down here. How it’s definitely colder and that’s why your nipples are hard again.

Steve hums, dropping the pile of clothes on a worn coffee table. His fingers flip through the stack, glancing up at you as he asks, “Oh? And how do you know? Keeping tabs on me, babe?”

When you don’t respond, he looks up again, finding you frowning with shoulders hunched.

“Shit,” he whispers, “I was doing so good too. You really don’t like me calling you that, huh?”

You roll your eyes, blinking profusely as you busy yourself with setting the snacks and beer on the coffee table. He almost misses it when you murmur, “It’s just cause he called me that. Before…Brendan…”

Not caring to finish the sentence attached to the memories swirling around inside your head, you move towards the opposite wall where a small box TV and stack of tapes sit. “So, what terrible taste in movies do I have to endure?”

“Hey.”

“It’s fine, Harrington, real-“

He says your name, interrupting you and when you look up at him, he knows this is his chance to say what he should have said a long time ago.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve says the words with so much sincerity, a wrinkle between his brows making something inside your stomach tug, like your body has a visceral reaction of needing to go over and smooth it away. He stands across the room from you, next to a ratty brown couch, holding sweats, dripping water as he shakes his head, looking the most genuine he ever has.

“I’ll never call you that again, I promise.”

This time, you’re absolutely sure you are on fire. Warmth flows from the top of your head down to your socks and all you can do is mumble a measly, “Okay.”

It feels like an entire hour and no time at all passes while you stare at each other, opposite sides of the room, but for once, there’s a common ground between you, an unspoken wave of flags, a line drawn in the sand being kicked and smoothed out. Neither of you knowing what’s supposed to come next.

So naturally, Steve ruins the moment.

“So, like,” he blows out his breath, tilting his head, “Honey, baby, sweetie okay? I just wanna make sure. You know, for when we’re having sex.”

His smile tells you that he’s kidding, he’s making a joke to lighten whatever mood you’ve both trapped yourselves in. So you avoid his gaze and push a tape into the player, not even reading the name as you wave a dismissive hand. “Go change already, you smell like a wet dog.”

Steve backs away, towards a small bathroom and hums, “Seems like you’re just trying to get me out of my clothes faster.” He nods towards the coffee table as you approach it, “Oh, and I did bring some clothes down for you too, if you want them. I know you said you weren’t cold but…”

He flips the light on in the bathroom, facing you, the glow behind him creating a halo on top of his caramel highlights as he grins in a way that’s the opposite of angelic.

“Your boobs have been telling a very different story.”

The throw pillow you chuck at the door with a scoff misses him, smacking the wood that manages to close just in time, not doing much to hide his pleased laughter.

“I hate you!” you call out, arms crossing over your chest as you look at the clothes.

“Really?” he calls, “Cause your boobs have been-“

“No! No more! Or I steal your car and drive home!” you can’t help but laugh around the threat, so you know he knows you’re not serious, but he remains quiet.

Despite it being easy for you to become irritated with him, you’d much rather this Steve than the quiet or nervous Steve. Or now, sincere, Steve, who you have no idea how to act around. This is all normal territory, the water you both know how to tread. This is able to be navigated.

Or so you thought.

You hate to give him the satisfaction of being right, but you are cold. So you grumble to yourself about taking your clothes off in Steve Harrington’s basement. Your jeans stick to your legs as you kick them off, making a pile with your white shirt. A laugh huffs out of your nose as you slip on plaid pajama bottoms, wondering how to make some sort of joke about them, when you’re halfway through pulling a sweatshirt on. Your arms and head pause inside the gray material, and you inhale.

Your knees are replaced with jello.

You’re in the woods, mint toothpaste, cotton laundry, and something so undeniably Steve Harrington, you can’t help but take another large inhale.

In your scent frenzy that’s not unlike a cat with catnip, you don’t hear the bathroom door open or Steve’s sharp breath in.

He swallows, seeing you standing in his clothes, arms raised and halfway through his sweatshirt, your bare lower back, pink lace band of your bra shown off.

His knees are replaced with jello.

Steve clears his throat, and you quickly pull the sweatshirt down, neither of you admitting your moment of indulgence, and neither of you daring to ask if the other caught it.

You sit next to each other on the couch, Steve hands you a beer, and neither of you speak. All you can think about is how to actively stop yourself from ducking your nose into the collar of the sweatshirt and taking another large inhale, and all he can think of is a curious thought that tugs and tugs and begs to know if your underwear matches your bra.

It isn’t until the lights flicker, and thunder growls that either of you moves or says anything.

Steve flinches, wiping a palm on his thigh that sits too close to yours and you go for a joke, trying to return once more to already mapped out communication points.

“I had no idea the king of Hawkins was afraid of a little rain.”

When you pop open the beer and Steve only grimaces, flinching again when thunder claps overhead, you’re brought back to another night, sitting next to the same boy, with the roles reversed.

Sweaty fingers had smudged your tiger, but it was worth it, to have someone to hold while your heart rate returned to normal. So you look at Steve now, who’s eyes watch the TV screen but aren’t really seeing it, who’s shoulders tense, who’s been far quieter and genuine tonight than you’d yet to see from him ever, and make a decision.

“Wanna squeeze my hand till it’s over?”

Steve exhales, lacing his fingers with yours as he laughs nervously, “Jesus christ, I thought you’d never ask.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, adjusting your arm against his and shifting into the couch deeper, ignoring the way his thumb swipes once over yours and what it does to your stomach. “Thought you were nervous because of me. You know,” you laugh, taking a sip of your beer before continuing, “Seeing nipples for the first time is a lot for a guy. You did good.”

“Ha-ha,” he says dryly, squeezing your hand on the next rumble. “Seriously, don’t tell anyone?”

“That you haven’t seen a woman’s nipples before? Because I will absolutely be telling anyone who will listen.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just turns his head, cheek resting against the scratchy brown couch, taking in your smiling profile.

You don’t dare to look at him as you sigh, squeezing his hand back.

“Secret’s safe with me, Harrington.”

You don’t like him.

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#superbly subpar's writing #BICFTF #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #cw alcohol #cw alchohol mention

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