mossycobblestonewrites · 6 months ago
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DC X DP PROMPT #25
Amity Park is seen as a tourist trap, like the whole town. No one in Amity is aware of this. All tourists think the townees are just really into the act.
One (or multiple) super families have decided to go on a Classic American Road Trip™. Which means they simply must visit all the tourist traps they see!
While in Amity, on a guided bus tour, there is a ghost attack. While the other passengers are thrilled with the commitment to the bit, the superfamily starts to become suspicious.
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gloomwitchwrites · 7 months ago
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Just Like Dad (1 of 4)
Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff, some humor, brief mention of pregnancy, canon-typical swearing, Simon is a girl dad
Word Count: 890
A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series
Filling out a parent questionnaire leads to Simon having to answer a hard question.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad
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“Daddy.”
 A small fist curls around the bottom of Simon’s shirt, tugging. He glances down, finding his daughter there holding out a piece of paper.
“What’s this?” Simon takes it from her, his gaze shifting to the black ink.
“It’s for school.”
It’s a questionnaire. Simons scans over the questions quickly before returning his gaze to his daughter. “Give me a second, love.”
Simon packs up the files he brought home from work. Grabbing a pencil, he strolls out to the living room, his daughter on his heels. Simon takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, placing the paper and pencil on the coffee table. His daughter snags a pillow off the couch, dropping it on the floor next to his legs. Sitting, she stares at him expectantly.
Simon nods toward the paper. “You need to practice your letters.”
She groans. “But it’s about you!”
Simon slowly slides the paper and pencil over to her. She pouts but takes up the pencil, the graphite tip poised above the first line.
“Name,” she says, glancing up at him.
“You know my name.”
She squints at him and looks back at the paper, taking her time to write each letter. She holds it up and Simon smiles. It’s stilted and a bit sideways, but it’s there. She asks several more questions like favorite food and color. Simon doesn’t understand the point to it but they’re likely doing a project on a parent.
“Job,” she says, expectant.
Job. His occupation. That’s a fucking complicated question.
“Military,” he answers.
She frowns. “How do you spell that?”
“Sound it out.”
She does so slowly, elongating each letter as she writes.
Simon glances over her shoulder and chuckles. “That’s an ‘i,’ darling.” He points and she aggressively erases her mistake.
When she finishes, she looks up at him. “Explain.”
Explain. Explain.
Explain…what?
That he kills people? That he negotiates the release of hostages? That he faces violence every day he’s on the job? That he sees some of the worst in people?
How the bloody hell does he explain all that to a six-year-old girl? How does he summarize the violence into a watered-down version that’s digestible enough for her, her teacher, the other students, and her school.
Simon swallows. “I stop bad people from doing bad things.”
She blinks. “Do I have to write all that?”
Simon barks a laugh. “It’s one sentence.”
She silently mimics him, shaking her little body in annoyance as she begins to write. Simon has no idea where the attitude comes from, but it’s likely from Johnny.
“Next question,” prompts Simon once the sentence is written down.
She hesitates and then turns in his direction. “Can I be like you when I grow up?”
Could she? Yes. But the very idea of her in the line of danger frightens him. It twists his stomach, knowing all the things that could befall her if she were to follow in his footsteps. Simon’s gut-instinct is to tell her “No.”
“Why do you want to be like me?” he asks.
She shrugs. “You’re strong. I want to be strong like you.”
“You don’t need to do what I do to be strong.”
“Uh, no,” she says, matter-of-fact, peering at the next question.
Fucking hell, she’s going to be an absolute hellion when she hits puberty. Sighing, Simon rubs at his temple. For some reason, he glances away from his daughter, his gaze landing on you in the hallway. With your hand cradling your slightly swollen belly, you watch on with an amused expression.
Number two. Will this one be like her? Wanting to do what he does?
“Daddy.”
Simon turns back to his daughter. She points at the paper with the tip of her pencil, head tilted slightly to the side.
He leans forward. “What’s the next question?”
“What does your day look like?” She grins up at him, ready for his answer.
Simon hears your soft laugh from the hall, and then your footsteps across the carpet. Your hand reaches out to cradle the back of Simon’s neck. On instinct, he lifts his arm, resting his hand on the small of your back.
“Go on, Simon. Tell her,” you tease, knowing that he’s struggling to form an answer.
“Do you put your mask on first?” The question is innocent but Simon laughs anyway.
“No,” he chuckles, gently taking the paper and pencil from her. “I kiss your mother first.”
Simon drags you in for a kiss.
“Ugh. Gross.” She makes a face, tiny nose scrunching up in disgust.
“Still want my job?” Simon presents the paper and she snatches up in her little fist.
“No thanks,” she sing-songs, stuffing the paper in her backpack, crinkling it up.
You hide your grin in Simon’s shoulder, and Simon tugs you closer. “Good save,” you murmur.
Simon presses his lips to the top of your head. “She has one of my masks.”
“I know,” you giggle. “Found it under her pillow this morning. I put it in your bag.”
“Was it covered in your makeup this time?”
“Had to wash it.”
Simon shakes his head in exasperation. He’s not annoyed. Just perplexed. He doesn’t understand why his daughter wants to be just like him.
It’s because she doesn’t know.
No. She doesn’t know. But one day she will. She might even change her mind.
taglist:
@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @cinnabeanz @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie
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catscidr · 9 months ago
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Hiii I just found your acc and really like your stuff! Can I pls request lazy morning sex with Jing Yuan (and any character you think might fit this prompt) I just looked and there is not one fic like this of this man when he's like... right there. He's like so perfect for this scenario. Thank you sm and have a great day/night! <3
i just finished writing this its 3am i think i blacked out. everybody give it up for my man jing yuan i need himSO BAAAAD AAHHH i hope u like this nonnie ♡♡ cw: nsfw, mdni. semi-clothed sx, soft dom jy, clt stimulation, size kink if you squint, praise, pet names, slight overstimulation, cuddling n fucking face-to-face, riding, creampie. /not proofread ill do that in the morning. dies/ includes: fem reader, jing yuan, fu xuan mentionned wc: 3,2k
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You loved and hated waking up next to Jing Yuan in the morning. On one hand, the rhythm of his beating heart lulls you to sleep, and he makes for a wonderful personal heater; but on the other... he’s a little too comfortable. So much so that every time you sleep with him, you, without fail, end up being late for work. That, or you barely make it in time. At times you would point your finger at him and accuse him of being a wholesome, sleepy version of an incubus, and he would laugh in that smooth, baritone voice of his. 
Regardless. 
This morning was one of those mornings, of course. Jing Yuan came back home for the first time in two weeks the night before- being the general of the Luofu means that he would occasionally have to leave for an unknown amount of time to take care of business. Every time he had to leave, you’d linger around him a little longer than usual, wrap your arms around him tighter than you normally would and let your lips linger on his cheek long enough for the sun to rise completely. 
He’d come back so late last night that you were already sleeping in your shared bed, legs haphazardly thrown over the bed sheets in a poor attempt to regulate your body temperature. The button-up shirt you wore made his heart lunge in his throat in the best way, but the last thing he wanted was to wake you. So, he’d carefully remove his armored uniform, take his shirt off and slip into the bed with you with nothing but his briefs on, and pull you into his chest. You had unconsciously nuzzled closer to him, your body craving the warmth of his body you had missed oh so dearly. 
Which explained the situation you were now in. The dilemma you found yourself stuck in. Jing Yuan was back; you had your face mere millimeters away from his plush chest, his arms held you tight against him, and his soft snores almost convinced you to fall back asleep. Keyword; almost. 
As much as you loved him you knew that he’d be here once you came back from work, so with as much resolve as you could muster, you try wriggling your way out of his grip. With him being as big as he was, though, it didn’t surprise you when he tightened his hold on you, treating you as if you were his plushie threatening to fall off his bed and he was a child.
You let out a quiet oof from his strong grip and reevaluate your options. There weren’t many options, but at least you had choices; either you wake him up, convince him to let you go and then get to work early enough that you don’t risk getting written up again, or you let him hold you and... arrive at work late. Again. Which was the last thing you wanted, given the fact that your boss had specifically told you that she couldn’t allow you to miss another meeting. 
Step one was to summon the ability to be even more stubborn than your lover. Step two is to carefully wriggle your arms up, high enough that you can move your hands and you can use them to your advantage against the beast. It took you some time, given the fact that they were stuck between his and your body, but you succeeded, nonetheless. And you only got one displeased grunt from the sleeping general in response. 
As you’re about to proceed with step three, Jing Yuan cracks an eye open and buries his head into the crook of your neck while curling into you, effectively trapping you between his plush muscles and the duvet. 
Could have gone better. 
“Jing Yuan,” you huff, your voice sounding more like a whine than anything. The general doesn’t respond, leading you to believe he fell asleep again, but his morning voice graces your ears before you have the time to curse him out. “Mhm, I’m up,” he hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck in a false apology. 
You wriggle in response, grunting from the sheer effort. One of the downsides that came with cuddling with Jing Yuan was the way he could keep you right there with him as long as he wanted, curse his strength. 
Seeing as he wasn’t going to budge, you decide that two can play that game. You stare into his silky mop of silver hair, pondering whether you should negotiate your freedom or if you should play dirty- but where's the fun in trying to talk your way out of this predicament? You bring a hand up to gently brush his bangs away from his face. He makes a soft noise of contentment at the feeling of your fingers delicately brushing against his face and, before he can grow too comfortable, you lean in and bite his cheek. 
The general makes a noise of surprise, grunting as he pulls away from you to narrow his eyes at his perpetrator. His pout morphs into a lazy smile as he holds your glare. “If you wanted to play you could have just said so, sweetheart,” he says lowly, moving his free hand from your back to letting it rest lazily on your hips, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the exposed skin. 
You stick your tongue out at him stubbornly, “Not now, I have to get up.” Unfazed by your headstrong attitude, Jing Yuan shifts one of his legs to come between yours- his strong thigh sandwiched between your soft ones. A surprised gasp leaves your lips in response to the smooth way he molds his body to yours, but you refuse to allow yourself to be swayed by him. 
“Aeons- ‘Yuan please,” you huff quietly, but he notices the way your voice catches in your throat. His golden eyes briefly shine with what could only be described as mischief and, with a smooth motion, Jing Yuan grabs ahold of your shoulder and swivels you around so that your back is against his chest. A surprised oof rips from your throat as you bounce lightly on the bed from the impact- he lowers his face to yours, a rich, deep chuckle echoing in your ears as your resolve begins to melt away. 
Taking advantage of the new position, Jing Yuan throws a leg over yours to trap you in and, in turn, grinds his growing bulge against your ass. If he wasn’t hard at the sight of your face in the morning when he first woke up, he sure was now; while he slowly ruts against you, he allows his hands to wander down to the hem of your shirt. 
You stifle a moan as the metaphorical dam in your head begins to crumble apart. Sure, you would see him when you would get back home later, but you were with him now. Laying here with your lover, safe and comfortable in his arms while his clothed erection lazily thrusts up into your heat. 
As you let out needy whines that you aren’t even aware you’re voicing, Jing Yuan brings his lips closer to your ear. “Five more minutes?” he asks with a knowing smile, his own breath becoming more and more rugged the more he rubs up against you. Gods, he could feel you throbbing through his sweatpants and your panties. 
You swallow thickly and whine in response, your head already fogging up with desire. Going a whole two weeks without sex wasn’t particularly hard; you had your trusty toy with you and your hands if it happened to run out of battery and you were that desperate. But you weren’t- and during these past two weeks you had felt just fine, totally not pent up or even the slightest bit sexually frustrated. Your job had kept you busy, but when you’re stuck in Jing Yuan’s arms after not feeling him for so long, after not feeling his cock twitching inside you, you felt like something snapped inside you.
Distantly, you think about how pathetic this must look for him; only a few lingering touches and his hips pressing up against yours from the back and that’s all it takes for you to drench your panties. But really, you couldn’t care less. You knew he was just as pent up as you were. 
You bring one of your hands down to fumble with the hem of your panties to quickly take them off, down your legs. Hearing Jing Yuan’s hoarse breathing in your ears only made you even more eager to feel his skin right up against yours. Maybe part of the reason why you were so incredibly turned on was because of how tired you still felt, but either way, you needed him. And he needed you just as badly. 
The general’s hands leave you temporarily to slide his sweatpants down to his thighs, low enough for his cock to leave its confines. Precum builds at the tip, swollen and pulsing with the need to bury itself inside you. He sighs, one of his hands coming up to stroke his length, thumb sliding over the slit every time his fist comes up. You whine at the loss of his hands on you and reach back to take his hand, bringing it between your legs to rub your clit. He laughs at your impatience, shifting his weight on his other arm to lean over you properly. 
“Someone’s impatient and greedy,” he goads. “I thought you wanted to get to work, darling,” he purrs in your ear, his middle and ring finger coming together to tease your bud, riling you up further and making a mess between your legs. A strained fuck leaves your lips as you back your ass up into him, his hard cock tucked between your thighs, rubbing into your arousal. “Please just-” a whimper interrupts you as Jing Yuan increases the pace of his fingers, “-inside. I-I need to feel you,” you huff, feeling too empty. He considers teasing you some more, listening to the wet sounds of your pussy bounce off the walls of your shared bedroom, but his own patience was also waning thin. 
A quiet noise of protest leaves you when the man takes his hand away from your bud. He brings his fingers up to his lips to lick your slick off of them, moaning at the taste. Your thighs clench in response, jerking the general’s cock unintentionally. 
“Fuck,” he growls into your ear, hurriedly taking his length into his hand to guide it into your soaking wet cunt. Your mouth hangs open when you feel his tip slip between your lips, needy noises slipping from your mouth. Inch after inch he sinks into you, slowly letting you accommodate to his girth. He finally bottoms out, stretching your hole as you keen and whine from the satisfaction of feeling so full. 
He waits a few beats to allow you to get used to him, your hoarse breathing matching his own. When he feels you clamping down on him less, he starts to thrust- pulling out slowly and thrusting back in sharply. You moan aloud, mouth agape as his cock bullies your spongy walls relentlessly. 
“Jing Yua-aan,” you whimper, hands gripping onto his forearms weakly, nails forming crescent shapes into his skin. He reduces you to a sleepy, blabbering, moaning mess as the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the bedroom. With one hand splayed across your lower tummy, he presses down, making you arch your back into him from the sudden added pressure and pleasure. 
“Y’ like that? You missed me, huh?” he taunts, though his own voice trails off into a needy moan the more he feels the drag of your walls along his cock. “I know I’ve- fuck, m-missed you,” Jing Yuan stutters, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he feels a familiar coil form in his abdomen. His thigh muscles clench as he wills away his orgasm, needing to feel you all around him for a bit longer. 
Unable to respond you simply nod dumbly, the words leaving your brain as it’s reduced to mush. Your lover hums, a smirk stretching his lips, “Yeah?” He brings his face closer to yours, your breaths tangling with each other before he smashes his lips against yours, the angle awkward and uncomfortable. But you don’t care- the added stimulation makes you melt as you crane your head back to kiss him properly, your lips occasionally leaving his from the force of his thrusts. 
Jing Yuan moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss. He looks at you with pure lust swirling in his golden eyes, your face sinful and needy. An idea pops up in the general’s mind and he smiles down at you, pressing one last chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
“Ah, w-what are you-” you slur, your sentence interrupted by the general manhandling you to switch positions. He kicks the sheets off completely and places both of his large hands on your waist, gripping you firmly as he lays on his back, placing you on top him. His cock slips out of your walls with a wet shlick and you whine at the feeling of being so suddenly empty, twisting your body so that your thighs straddle his hips. Jing Yuan looks up at you with a small, cat-like smirk and your breath catches in your throat. 
His silky hair splayed out on the pillows beneath him, cheeks flushed, and eyes piercing into yours made your knees buckle and you suddenly froze in your movements. Feeling your pussy throb against him, Jing Yuan chuckles heartily, one of his hands leaving your waist to stroke his hard cock, your slick dripping down on him. 
“Lift your hips up and sit on my cock, darling,” he orders softly, a stark contrast to the way he looks at you- with pure, unfiltered lust and adoration. Your body moves automatically as you obey, hovering your tight pussy over his swollen tip, and lower yourself down. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, and you feel his girth stretching you out again as you begin to bounce on his hard cock. 
“Yeahh just like that,” he hums, the hand that held his length moving up to rest on your stomach, thumb jutting out to rub tight circles over your sensitive clit. You squeak in surprise, your body jolting forward, and place your hands over his plush chest for balance. “Feels good, baby? Feel how deep my cock is?” 
A moan leaves his kiss-bitten lips and you swear you physically felt yourself get pushed closer to your nearing orgasm, the noises leaving his lips amplifying your pleasure tenfold. “Taking me so well, look at that pretty pussy,” he coos, and you keen as his half-lidded eyes burn into yours. He feels your walls clench in response to the praise and flashes you a dangerous smirk; he places his feet flat on the bed and tightens his grip on your waist to buck his hips up, making you topple over him. Your gaze is unfocused and blurry as you look down at him, heavy breaths leaving your lips, tears threatening to roll down your rosy cheeks from the pace he set. 
“And look at you,” he whispers lovingly under his breath. Jing Yuan throws his head back deeper into the pillows, keeping his eyes on you as he watches you lose yourself to the addicting feeling of his cock bullying your sopping cunt. “Y-Yuan,” you whine, your climax threatening to rip through you as you bite your lip to stifle your needy moans. He tuts, leaning up to bite your lip to pull you out of your pleasure-filled daze. 
“Pay attention to me darling. Thaat’s it, let 'em out for me.” The general huffs, brows furrowing in concentration to focus on the feeling of your warm walls surrounding him, sucking him in endlessly. His thumb presses down onto your clit roughly to bring you closer to your orgasm; you whimper in turn, a chorus of oh fuck and please’s leaving your puffy lips. “I-I’m so close,” you whine, eyelids fluttering shut as you feel your control leaving your body, the tight coil of your orgasm threatening to snap. 
Jing Yuan groans, hips bucking up into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he keeps up the pace, persistent. “Come on, give it to me, pretty girl.” He coos, voice breaking into a whine, close to climaxing himself. His thrusts become sloppier, and he bites his bottom lip to stifle a string of hearty, needy moans. 
His hips still up into you as he cums, thick ropes of his seed painting your walls white. Jing Yuan’s thumb flicks your puffy clit until you climax as well, your cunt milking his sensitive cock. You whimper, feeling your clit buzz with overstimulation as he keeps rubbing it with purpose. “S-Stop, stooop,” you cry, your eyes burning with tears as the dull pain turns into pleasure, “Aeons you’re so tight.” Your lover slows down his movements, easing the tension in his muscles, until he stops circling your clit and gently places both of his hands on your waist. His hands slide up and down your sweaty skin, soothing the bruises that will inevitably form.
Your body slumps, exhausted and utterly spent, arms caging him as you rest your face in the crook of his neck. You both feel sticky and sweaty, but the warmth you shared made up for the need to jump in the shower to wash yourselves off. Jing Yuan shifts his hips so that his softening cock slips out of you; he inhales sharply, his cock still sensitive. 
“I missed you,” you mumble quietly, voice muffled from the way you're pressed into him and the pillows and press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Yeah? I never would have guessed,” the general chuckles, arms coming up to hug you tightly, one hand placed behind your head to cradle you close to him. You hit him with a huff but then sigh, content. 
“Mmh, but I missed you too, darling,” Jing Yuan replies softly. He holds you as your eyes droop, exhaustion taking ahold of your tired body. His own eyelids droop as he listens to your soft heartbeat, and soon enough, you’re both sleeping, legs tangled together while Jing Yuan’s strong arms keep you laid atop of him. 
⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝
You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but you hear a phone ringing loudly in your ear, jolting you away from your peaceful dreams. You don’t recognize the tune, and as you’re about to wriggle your way out of the dozing general’s arms, he swings one arm over to the nightstand next to your bed and answers it without looking at the caller ID. “Jing Yuan speaking,” he says in a hoarse voice, eyes still closed. 
Even without his phone on speaker you could make out a very loud, very shrill voice from the other side of the line, yelling out two hours late, a single mission and get your ass over here. Jing Yuan doesn’t react, the same sleepy, cat-like smile on his face as he listens to the person rant. They eventually let up and hang up, saying something you couldn’t quite catch. Your lover haphazardly tosses his phone somewhere on the bed and loops his arm back around you, nuzzling into your neck. 
“Who was that?” you ask, voice cracking from how much you abused your vocal cords (apparently) two hours ago. He scoffs, amused, and pulls away just enough to speak clearly. 
“Lady Fu Xuan,” he says slyly. “I should get dressed before she decides to read into my divination and sees things she probably shouldn’t.”
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dcxdpdabbles · 11 months ago
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Cave boy Danny AU where he's half asleep and rambling as he mentions some people back home like his exes (especially Valerie), his English teacher, this stalker of his who he likes messing with, and the annoying fruitloop who's the bane of his existence! They're concerned. Only once he's fully awake when they ask for names.
Lancer is Alfred, Talia is Val, maybe Paulina is Julie Madison but idk, Wes is Edward/The riddler (I'm pretty sure there was a time he had a reddish orange hair. Either way, he was the same model as Danny so maybe Wes dyed his hair to not be confused with the Fentons in this AU), and Vlad is Ra's!
Hello! This actually falls out of my planned plotline for Cave Boy, but I will write something for you that is close to the prompt to make up for it! Hope that's okay and that you like it
Flash sends them a message sometime in the early afternoon before any of the Bats are ready to go out. In fact, Damian, Duke, Steph, and Jason are in class when his message arrives.
Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, and Barbara are at work. As the Flash is one of the few who knows what the Batfamily is doing during these hours, it is rare for him to bother at this hour. He would have usually waited until after five as that was when a majority of them became available.
They all quickly check their phones when they vibrate to ensure it's not a world-ending threat, just in case.
Since the messages would be sent to their civilian phones- anyone in the know of the Bat's real identity chooses to text in a very specific code. This way, no one would know what they were saying, and the Bats would realize they were speaking to who they thought they were.
Barry Allen chose Disney theme GIFs as his code.
A gif of Mulan singing Reflections lets them all know that somehow, the speedster has again opened a portal into a different dimension and/or mess with time.
"Why is my reflection someone I don't know?" meant "A double of one of you has crossed over from a different dimension and/or timeline"
This causes a brief ripple of anxiety. The last time someone had a double, it was Tim, and his future version of himself was crazy, evil, and surprisingly capable. It took Tim almost ending his life to beat the guy.
Thankfully, the second GIF comes through seconds later. This one is Mulan's Honor To Us All.
"Please bring honor to us all" meant "The double is friendly."
The last Gif was from Lion King, Timon cheerfully singing Hakuna Matata. "It means no worries for the rest of your days" meant "Sorry for the trouble."
Those in class return to their various lessons, but Tim quickly responds, "I love that movie! We should watch Mulan again the next time I see you, Uncle Barry!"
This means, "We will meet the double tonight."
The rest of the day drags on as they all slowly start to make bets on who the double would be for. They all agree that Cass is long overdue to face herself again. Still, Dick makes the complying argument that Duke needed to have his first "My counterpart from another dimensional/ Timal plane" moment.
They all actively hope Duke can clear another block on his Bat-bingo card. He gets two more and a complimentary tray of any of his favorite Alfred's desserts.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
That night, they all meet up in the watch tower, each clutching their bingo card just in case. (The game resets every month, and so far, Jason has written down the most accurate predictions. He needed two more squares for a cooking lesson of his favorite meal, and he was out for blood)
They all silently go to the conference room, where Barry entertains the guests. Apparently, they were trying to find discrepancies in their world's history and the double's life to help find which world they came from and send them back.
They were being shown the main rouges to test the timeframe.
"Is that Wes!?" A young male teenager yells. Sadly, Steph swears, staring at her "A new Batgirl from a different world" box.
"We call him Edward when he's not in his costume. Otherwise, his name is the Riddler." Barry answers, amusement clear in his voice.
"Riddler? How is Riddler menacing? What does he tell you, riddles of death or something?"
"You be surprised......."
Bruce gets to the door, pushing it open with a quick flick of the wrist, and inside is Barry sitting at the conference table next to a boy with dark hair and blue eyes. In front of them is a hologram showcasing the Gotham Rouge files.
There are papers and pencils scattered on the table. Likely, they have been writing down notes of the differences they have spotted.
Barry's eyes flicker to them, but the boy is too distracted to count on his fingers.
"Okay, so Wes is Riddler, Val is Talia, Fruitloop is Ra's, Sckuller is Bane, and ugh....for some reason, Spectra is Harley Quinn." The boy finishes checking his notes.
"For some reason? I thought you said Spectra studied psychology too."
"yeah, but Harley Quinn actually got a Ph.D. What did Spectra do? Land a school counselor position? Please." The boy rolls his eyes dismissively, and Barry frowns.
He's never taken kindly to people disregarding another person's profession, especially if it was connected to the educational system in some way.
"Hey now, that's an important job, and you need years of study before you can be a school counselor-"
"I bet Spectra peaked in high school. That's why she's like that." The boy cut him off, nodding as though he had found the universe's answer.
Well.....this was either a version of Jason, Tim, or maybe early Dick, that was a little too sassy but not angry? It's not sad either; it's more like, fed up? Or teenage tired.
"Oh, who are they?" The boy asks, and Barry zips right next to Batman.
"Danny, meet Batman...the you of this world. And his kids."
Danny squints. "Who is your mom, and how easy am I? Because there is a lot of you that I fathered for me to not be easy."
Jason burst out laughing, checking a box. "Yes, someone calling Bruce easy in costume. That's on bingo for me!"
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adverbally · 3 months ago
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Just Try to See in the Dark
Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Childhood” | wc: 1,263 | rated: T | cw: references to physical (nonsexual) child abuse and neglect, including description of injuries inflicted by a parent | tags: teacher steve, steve and eddie’s shitbag dads, hurt/comfort, shoutout to all the awesome teachers out there | title from “Close to Me” by The Cure
And with this, I’m officially caught up, just in time for the halfway point of the month! I appreciate everyone who has read and interacted with my work so far. I haven’t written this much in years and it’s all because of contributions from viewers like you. Thank you 💕
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When Steve gets home from work, almost an hour later than usual, he goes straight into their bathroom and shuts the door.
Eddie watches him go. It’s not unusual after a long day. Sometimes Steve just wants to take a hot shower and start his evening fresh. But after half an hour, the water hasn’t turned on and Eddie is starting to worry.
He hovers outside the bathroom door for several minutes, unsure if he should check on Steve. It doesn’t sound like he’s moving around, which makes a dark corner of Eddie’s mind worry that he’s hurt. What if he fell? What if he wasn’t feeling well and something is really wrong?
It’s that terrifying prospect that finally forces Eddie to rap on the door. “Stevie?”
“Come in,” comes the muffled response.
Eddie opens the door carefully so he doesn’t accidentally hit Steve, but Steve is sitting fully-clothed in the empty bathtub on the other side of the room. “Hi, sweetheart,” Eddie greets him as he comes to sit on the closed toilet lid.
Steve has his knees tucked up to his chin, arms wrapped around his shins. He turns his head sideways so he can speak more clearly. “I had to call Child Services.”
Jesus. Steve loves his class of second graders like they’re his own children. To have to report some kind of abuse to one of them… no wonder Steve went straight to the peace and quiet of the bathtub. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”
His eyes are dry, but Steve still rubs at his nose with the back of his wrist. “Yeah. Samantha. She had…” He gestures vaguely at his neck. “She usually has bruises somewhere, you know, she’s seven. But today she had actual fingerprints...”
Eddie drops to his knees on the rug next to the tub and gets his arms around Steve right as he starts to shake.
“And when I asked her about it, she just said, ‘He didn’t mean to!’ Like you can accidentally choke your own kid hard enough to leave marks like that.” Steve sniffs. “But he’s her dad and she loves him.”
With that, he buries his face in his knees and lets Eddie hold him.
Steve has always struggled with this part of being a teacher, even while he was working on his degree. Eddie can still see it so clearly, Steve pacing around the tiny dining table in their first apartment, ranting about mandatory reporting.
“You know what would’ve happened to me if a teacher said anything? My dad would’ve made us all smile and pretend everything was fine, and he would’ve beat the shit out of me as soon as the investigator left!” Steve had slammed his fist on the countertop as he passed.
“But we’re supposed to report immediately once we have reason to suspect abuse. Don’t take the time to make sure the kid is safe, don’t look at the broader pattern of incidents, just…” He had run out of breath there and couldn’t catch it for several minutes once he started crying, not out of sadness or worry but frustration.
It’s not frustration that drives Steve to tears now. It’s grief and fear for Samantha, for a younger version of himself, for the consequences of what the law requires of him.
“You’ve been looking out for her for a long time,” Eddie murmurs, chin hooked over Steve’s shoulder. The edge of the tub is digging into his side but he’ll be damned if he lets go of Steve right now. “This just confirms that your instincts were right. And hopefully now she’s gonna get help.”
“I’m scared that I just put her in a worse situation,” Steve admits, raising his head enough to wipe his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. “She shouldn’t have to deal with all this, she’s just a kid.”
Eddie vaguely remembers something about Sammy’s mom not being in the picture. “She can’t stay with an abusive parent just because she loves him. That’s why children don’t get to make the decisions here.”
Steve shakes his head. “But when she’s stuck in a foster home because of me—”
“Nuh-uh-uh, don’t even go there.” He ducks his head to look Steve in the eye. “She’s gonna be safe because of you. She’s gonna go home from school and not have to worry about her dad hurting her anymore. That’s huge.” He knows they can both understand that.
“I wish there was something else I could do,” Steve sighs.
“Just keep being the best second grade teacher in the state. Keep paying attention and listening to the kids. That’s what they need from you.”
Steve tilts his head to rest against Eddie’s shoulder. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It’s more than you think.” Eddie kisses his temple, runs his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I had a teacher in fifth grade, Ms. Martin. It was, like, the year after my mom died, and I wasn’t coping at all. My dad was barely around to drop off some food for me once in a while. I was a nightmare student. Stole from the other kids, slept during lessons, started fights at recess.”
“It’s hard to care about school with stuff like that going on at home,” Steve says. Even now, he’s defending Eddie against shit that happened twenty years ago.
“Luckily for me, Ms. Martin understood that, too. She knew I was smart and I liked to draw, so she would assign me little projects. Stuff like illustrating a scene from the book we were reading or drawing a diagram of the parts of a plant or whatever. She let me work in her classroom at lunch and after school. Every day, she brought me a sandwich and a snack so I didn’t have to sneak food out of someone else’s lunchbox.”
Steve sits up to look at him with the most heartbroken expression. “Ed, that’s— she sounds incredible.”
“Yeah. She might not have fixed things for me outside of the classroom, but she made being at school a thousand times more bearable. Just by giving a shit.” He grins up at Steve. “Like you.”
“You know you do that kind of stuff, too, right? Like when you donated all those old dice sets for D&D Club, and when you helped me make Valentines for the whole class so nobody would feel left out. And when you delivered the pizzas for the Halloween party. And—“
Eddie hangs his head in an imitation of bashfulness. “I’m just your humble sidekick. All of that was your idea.”
“Then thank you for helping me make school more bearable for my kids.” Steve takes Eddie’s face between his big, gentle hands and kisses his forehead before angling his head back so their lips align.
“It’s my pleasure.” Eddie pushes himself to his feet with a groan as his knees creak. “Fuck, I’m getting to old to sit on the floor.”
Steve holds both hands out to Eddie, arms fully outstretched as if asking him to pull him upright. When Eddie doesn’t move, he whines, “C’mon, my ass is asleep. At least you were on the cushy rug!”
With a put-upon sigh, Eddie heaves Steve to his feet. “Shower first or food? I made meatballs.”
“Meatballs!” Steve throws his arms around Eddie’s neck, mostly for balance as he steps out of the bathtub. “You really do love me,” he fawns, batting his lashes for effect.
“You’re okay, I guess.” Before Steve can object, Eddie darts in for a quick kiss and darts off. “Wash up, dinner’s in five!”
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mochatsin · 7 months ago
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When MC can Draw (Dateables Version)
Drawing and the arts is one of the things you’re most passionate about. There’s a lot of things, and certain demons, that are out there to give you inspiration to draw. How will the dateables react when they find out you’re a great artist?
Wow my first dateables version of my prompts. Hope i’ve written them all well. This version is requested from my tumblr :0 thanks for reading!
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Diavolo
Diavolo took notice when you saw your eyes lingering among the paintings during your tour around his castle. There were portraits of prominent figures from Devildom, from old kings to spearheads that shaped their history. He explains how there’s one royal painter for every royal king, thus the similar styles in every portrait. Since you’re an exchange student then it’s essential you learn about these demons, and Diavolo is happy to tell their tales for you. 
He was taking a stroll around RAD before going home when he spotted you in the school’s gardens, seemingly preoccupied. He wanted to call on you but he was more curious to see what you were working on. Diavolo watches you closely from a distance, afraid that you might hide from him if you spot him like how the others do.
To his surprise, he saw you working on a portrait of him in a style that’s similar to the ones he’s shown you. The way your eyes lingered on those paintings when he toured you around before, it clicks to him now that you were trying to study the art style itself as well. It’s almost identical, but with your added personal touches to make it unique.
His towering size doesn’t hide him very well when you immediately spot him at the corner of your eye. The pillars don't do justice to how large Diavolo is as a demon. You try to conceal the art you were making, it’s embarrassing when the subject of your art is actually a few feet away from you. But he quickly smiles as he walks over to you. Now that his cover's blown, he definitely wants to see everything up close now.
“I didn’t mean to be rude and spy on you like that. But you don’t need to hide anything! Even from a glance I could tell you’re talented. Would it be alright for me to see what you were working on?” You can’t really turn down such a polite request, but you most certainly can’t turn down the volume of his voice that’s booming with excitement as he flips from one page to another.
When you finish your portrait of Diavolo, expect it to be treated like a national treasure. A beautiful artwork of the young prince made by the human exchange student? It deserves the best frame that Diavolo can get his hands on. Expect Barbatos by your door the next day with high quality art supplies. He’ll treat you like one of the finest royal artists to ever live in Devildom.
Barbatos 
He invited you for some afternoon tea at the castle as thanks for lending him a hand in his duties the other day. Though there were some other matters around the castle that Barbatos needed to attend to, he asked for you to stay put first and help yourself to some of the treats he had prepared beforehand. 
You always admired the intricate designs of the tea set Barbatos always prepared whenever you came over. Since you’re a bit bored, you took out your sketchbook and decided to draw the fancy little tea cups while you wait for Barbatos to come back. 
The tea sets that Barbatos prepares always have beautiful pattern designs that range from dainty floral prints up to sets that look more expensive than the Mammon’s weekly bills due to how much the patterns are embedded in gold. If you look closely, you could probably spot little devils on it and it’s cute in its own way.
Little did you know he’s been actually observing you for a while now. He finished his last minute duties rather quickly since it would be rude to keep a guest waiting and that’s when he spots you keeping yourself busy by drawing, your glance going from the tea set to the paper. He wanted to admire that look you have whenever you concentrate for a little bit.
He lets out a small chuckle which gets your attention, a gentle smile on his face as he approaches you. “You’re quite the talented one, aren’t you?” Barbatos says as he takes a seat next to you, glancing at your sketchpad. “Maybe you can tell me more about your work while we enjoy some tea together?” 
Barbatos wouldn’t push for you to show anything, but he’ll be happy once you do. He’s impressed at how well you can make patterns that range from something simple to ones that have intricate details. He likes how you can make a portrait of the tea sets he’s been preparing, and secretly he grabs his finest sets to see if you’ll be inspired enough to draw it as well the next time you visit. Maybe he can also pull some strings to put your own pattern designs onto an actual tea cup and serve it to you next time. 
Simeon 
Sometimes you go to Purgatory Halls to get away from all the constant nagging and chaos of the demon brothers. It’s nice to find that peace and quiet you needed to do your daily tasks or just laze around since you felt like it.
Simeon lets you stay in his room for today while he tries to focus on writing for his novel. He plans on introducing a new character soon and since he trusts you, he starts talking about the character itself. How they compose themselves, what they’re like, the possible role they’ll play in the story, you get all these details before the chapter is even written.
Once he’s done talking he lets you get back to whatever you were doing while he continues trying to figure out how to write the next few parts. Though he soon hears the sound of scribbling pens and wondered if you were doing some homework? He could’ve sworn you were done with those already.
He turns around and to his astonishment, you were sketching the character he was just discussing with you earlier. Given his detailed accounts of the character, you were able to design it well. It’s an understatement to say Simeon is happy. He is ecstatic. You brought this character to life in just a matter of minutes all for him, and that brings Simeon more ideas on how to proceed with writing. 
“You never told me you actually knew how to draw. Your talent at visualizing is exceptional.” Simeon would listen carefully while you talk about your journey to the arts and how you honed your talents while he looks through your other works. Afterwards, he starts to praise your art like a professional critique, telling you what he loves in each work.
His heart skips a beat whenever he finds your old works that’s dedicated to his novels. Learning that you’re also talented with the pen like he is, just in a different element, makes him feel a little bit closer to you. If you’re not busy, he may ask for your help when it comes to visualizing something he’s having a hard time with. He’ll treat you to something nice as thanks!
Solomon
Being Solomon’s apprentice means that there are times he’ll require you to assist him with his research. There’s a few spells and potions that he wants to work on, though they all require a lot of preparation work. You both agreed on doing a bit of divide and conquer on those tasks so that it won’t be too time consuming to finish. 
You managed to do a lot of chores for him which is quite tiring, though Solomon is grateful for your efforts and he has one last request from you which he said is essential to the potion he’s making. There’s a delicate Devildom flora that Solomon harvested recently, and you have to make sure the flower stays fresh because it can wither very quickly if not taken care of and the potion would fail if that happens. He’ll take it off your hands once he’s done preparing everything else.
Normally, one would’ve kept it in a vase full of water and called it a day. Though you decided to not only put it in a vase, but draw up a summoning circle that would keep it fresh. It’s something that you learned from Solomon’s notes, and the sorcerer is astonished you drew the circle so accurately enough to work on your first try when he came to check up on you. 
“Now how did my little apprentice actually manage that so quickly? That would’ve taken me several tries to get the patterns done.” Solomon says with an amused smirk, staring at the circle in awe. Getting one line wrong would’ve instantly killed the flower but right now, he sees that not only is it very much alive but it looks more vibrant than ever. The magic is more potent, Solomon is sure that any potion he makes with its petals would be very effective.
While he was waiting for the potion to boil over in the cauldron, he decided to learn more about this hidden talent of yours. He makes you draw some summoning circles from one of his books, already starting out on the difficult types to draw. All of it is perfect somehow since you’ve had a history of drawing, so your hand is quite steady and you act like it’s no big deal. Solomon will definitely want to see your works in the future.
“A lot of sorcerers can cast magic, but not everyone has the talent to make summoning circles as quickly and accurately as you do.” That’s big praise coming from humanity’s strongest sorcerer. Though that means he’ll want to exploit that talent and call you over every time he needs it in his experiments, it’s a win for him either way because he gets to spend more time with you. 
Luke 
There’s a new event in Devildom where the angels and you were teamed up to open a stall that’s focused on selling sweets and pastries. Luke appreciates your input when it comes to taste testing his sweets since none of the demon brothers are able to give proper critiques like you can, Simeon tends to be a little too nice to Luke, and Solomon is never allowed near the kitchen. Ever. 
Your company is always welcomed and Luke would gladly add any of the sweets you recommended onto the menu. You always come back to the House of Lamentation with a bag full of samples you both baked that day, which always brings a smile to the brother’s face. 
You come back to Purgatory Hall only to find Luke seemingly having a dilemma. He reassures you that it’s not because of the batch of sweets and pastries since you helped him perfect the menu. It’s the fact he needs to make a logo and design for the stall. If it can’t attract any customers then all the effort you both put into baking this would go to waste. 
You sat down with Luke to brainstorm with him, watching the angel stare blankly at the paper with frustration while you ask him for what ideas he’s already had so far. Luke had to go back to the kitchen to pipe some frosting on the cupcakes, though by the time he came back you were already done with the sketch.
Luke is awed at the design, seeing as how you incorporated both his and your idea for the stall in a way that still blends well together. “Y-you’re incredible! How’d you do that so fast though? You know what, let’s show Simeon first!” If Luke had a tail, it would be wagging from sheer joy. He’d be so excited to get the decorations and paint for the stall that he almost forgot about the cupcakes in the oven. 
By the time the stall is finished and running, Luke would definitely flaunt your talent not just for helping him bake but for also designing the stall. “You like the design? They did that!” He would say with an excited grin on his face before pointing at you. Luke enjoys working with you that you both barely notice the brothers getting jealous over the amount of time the angel gets to spend with their human. 
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panda-writes-kpop · 6 months ago
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hiii i love ur works!! may i request Dreamcatcher and Lesserafim reaction to reader coming down with a cold or sinus infection? like, the reader is sneezing a lot and just needs lots of tlc :3
Le Sserafim - Reaction to Reader Having a Sinus Infection/Cold
a/n: the college mentality of "due tomorrow 》》》 do tomorrow" still plagues my brain as I didn't have the motivation to finish this fic until today 🥲 but I'm going to try to have the other dreamcatcher reaction out later this week! I'm glad you enjoy my works, dear anon! ❤️ as someone who gets sinus infections regularly, I felt this request in my soul and had to do it. hopefully this brings you all comfort in your time of sickness 🫶
tw: sick! reader, mentions of vomit, vivid description of a cold at the beginning, eunchae's part is written as platonic :)
related fic: dreamcatcher's version
♡ Masterlist ♡
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Prompt: You swear you didn’t feel this terrible yesterday. All you had was a bit of congestion and a scratch in your throat. Today, when you woke up, you could barely lift your head off of the pillow due to the congestion in your head. You were sure that you had enough snot to fill a trash can within your two nostrils. All you wanted to do was lay down and rest, but the ding of your phone causes you to lift your head again.
My Love: Do you mind if I come over? I miss you :(
You text her back with what you think is a comprehensible answer, and you rest your head against the pillow.
The next moment you’re awake, your girlfriend is sitting right next to you. So much for self-isolation.
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You're awoken by the soft clink of two needles brushing past each other, and oddly enough, you find serenity in the sound. You've learned to associate the sound with Sakura's presence, and she smiles softly at you as she continues to knit.
“Are you feeling better?”
“A little.” You croak out before trying to sit up.
She stops knitting and places a hand on your chest.
“You need your rest, babe. I'll order takeout or see what I can make in your kitchen.”
You offer a quick smile back to her before she tucks you back into bed.
“A goodnight kiss?” You stick out your bottom lip as Sakura chuckles to herself.
“It's not nighttime, and I'm not kissing you until you feel better. I put one of my homemade blankets on you - it should feel like a warm hug. Hopefully, you can deal with it until you get better.”
You grab the blanket and tug it over you.
“Thanks, Kkura. See you when I wake up.”
“I'll be here when you do.”
She continues her knitting, and you fall asleep to the sound of clinking that you had awoken to.
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A light hand on your shoulder stirs you from your slumber as your eyes snap open.
You cough as you try to take a breath and gather your surroundings.
“Baby, are you okay?” Chaewon hovers over you before grabbing a chair from nearby. “You didn't answer my text, and I got worried.”
“I-” You pause to sneeze. “I'm okay, I promise.”
Her burrows furrow - you were very unsuccessful in hiding your sickness.
“You're not feeling well. Let me run you a bath, and then I can make you some soup. Then we can have some tea, if you're up for it, and then a walk outdoors can help you clear your nose-”
“Chaewon, love, we don't have to do that all right now.” You grab her arm to stop her ranting. “The soup and tea are fine since I don't feel like getting out of bed.”
“Okay, I can do that.” She presses a small kiss to your face before getting up. “I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything, don't be afraid to say something!”
“I won't.” You find yourself smiling after Chaewon leaves the room, and with your spirits lifted, you're sure that you'll feel better in no time.
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“How are you feeling?”
You manage to pull your eyes open as you shake off the sleepiness. When you're conscious enough to face the day (nevermind the cold), your head turns toward Yunjin.
“You didn't have to come, I know you were busy-”
“You send a text that said ‘help me’ with a bunch of random symbols and emojis after it. I was worried that someone had broken into the apartment or that you were in the hospital.”
Her arm grabs yours as you pull yourself out of bed. You gently rub your head as her hand travels to rub your back. In her other hand, she holds a take-out bag with your favorite foods inside of it.
“You were going to fight off my attacker with fast food?” You joke, and she softly laughs.
“I remembered that you were pretty out of it the last time you were sick, so I was hoping that your message wasn't an SOS for emergency services.”
“Good call.” Your stomach rumbles as you stare at the food. “I hope you brought enough for the both of us, I'd feel bad if you were going to just watch me eat.”
“I know that you would want me here with you, plus, it gives me an excuse to see you more.” She winks before handing you the food and grabbing the TV remote. “I just wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Me too, dear,” You sigh before opening the food, “me too.”
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You're awoken by the sound of silence - well, nothing besides the numbing headache in your skull.
As you sit up in bed, a gentle knock beats against your door.
“Come in.” You hoarsely call out before grabbing the water from your night stand.
“Hey, honey, are you ready for company? I can leave if you want, but I wanted to let you know what I brought.” Kazuha peeks her head in after opening the door.
“No, it's alright, you can come in. You didn't have to bring anything, I could've ordered something in.” You try to reassure her as she closes the door behind her.
“I wasn't able to come to see you until later, but I saw your text before dance rehearsal. I called one of your friends to come check on you, and you were fast asleep so they didn't want to bug you. They made you a big pot of soup that I divided up and put into the fridge. They also left some tea bags and a few honey sticks, if you want any of that.” Kazuha explains. “I brought over some of your clothes from my place because I wasn't sure what kind of sickness you were dealing with, but I'm glad it's not vomit.”
You both grimace at the thought as you smile to yourself.
“Do I get a kiss for not puking?”
“No way! I don't want your germs.” She jokes as you sulk.
“Damn, it was worth a try. I'll take the soup, though, if you don't mind getting it for me?” You tilt your head as she sighs and nods.
As Kazuha leaves the room, you wonder how you got so lucky with such a kind, funny, and sweet girlfriend.
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Unfortunately, for you, your girlfriend didn't answer or show up at your door. So, you text the next person who will come to see you because the fridge is soo far away and you don't feel like getting up and getting a water.
You're sure that Eunchae breaks a world record as she knocks at your door minutes after you text her.
After letting herself in, she rushes to your side and gives you a big hug.
“Aren't you worried about getting sick?” You ask as she nervously laughs.
“Not really, since I think I had your sickness a bit ago? I hope not, because I felt a lot worse than you sound.” Eunchae gives you a gummy smile before letting you go. “Do you want me to order something? I don't want to dig through your kitchen without your permission.”
“Of course, go ahead. My card's over-”
“I got it!” She cheerily says before digging out your phone. “Don't worry, I'll take care of you.”
You have doubts that everything she will do with you will be helpful to your recovery, but at least you'll feel better. That counts for something, right?
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ohtobeleah · 24 days ago
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Day Seven [The Hills Have Eyes]
Summary: Jakes mind plagues him with haunting memories at your funeral. Bradley is forced to come to terms with the fact he'll be Jake Seresins metaphorical punching bag for the rest of his life.
Warnings: Mentions of main character death. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Grief. Loss. Mental health issues. Jake hurting Bradleys feelings RELENTLESSLY.
Word Count: 1.5k
Whumptober Prompt Day Seven: Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”
Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. Disclaimer: I do not condone nor endorse the actions that are written about during the month of October. These works of fiction are just that, fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for this year's prompt list.
Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Bruises Masterlist
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“Here, this is gonna sting, but we need to clean this up a little,” Some of the world’s top trauma specialists have proven that our brains may forget the traumas we’ve survived. But our bodies, especially our nervous systems, always keep score. 
“Y-you have shitty craftsmanship Seresin,” You tried to lighten the incredibly hostile mood as Jake pressed a small bit of his peroxide-soaked Normex suit to your eyebrow. “But at least my eyebrow will match my botched-up thigh,” 
“I didn’t inherit any sort of surgical skills from Pops, that’s for sure,” Jake had ripped a small amount of the dirty material from his leg after you’d sustained a rather large gash through your eyebrow from one of the guards. They���d pistol-whipped you just for the fun of it. Through the bars of your cells, Jake offered to do what he could to try and ward off infection with the very limited amount of medical supplies that the two of you had been given in your time in hell. “Hold on, we’re gonna have to improvise here, Hotshot,” Jake sighed as he pressed the soaked material to your eyebrow. 
“Ah–!” You hissed as the liquid soaked into the deep wound that sliced through layers of skin and muscle right to the bone. “Fuck, you’d think I’d have a better pain threshold after everything huh?” 
“You’re fine,” Jake chuckled back as he looked around to see if he had any sort of suture supplies left over from when he’d been tasked with stitching up your thigh. “When we get outta here I’ll have to make sure I brush up on my first aid and CPR,”
“Jake?” Memories are stored in our shoulders, spines, stomach, and hands, without us ever knowing. We assume a painful backache or shaky hand is harmless and random. 
“Yeah?” Jake replied as he pulled the soaked bit of normex away from your eyebrow. He wished more than anything that he was on the same side of the bars as you were. 
“I think your CPR skills are just fine,” 
“Are you flirting with me right now Hollywood?” Jake smiled as he let the pad of his thumb trail across your cheek, taking shock of just how sunken your eyes had started to become. How tired and drained you really looked. 
“Nothing else better to do, is there?” You smiled back, praying that you’d get to know a version of Jake Seresin that wasn’t a prisoner of war. 
The pain we feel could always be more than random. It might be our bodies reminding us of what we’ve endured. 
And warming us not to let it happen again. 
“Y/n always had a way with words,” Jake’s hand shook as he held the piece of paper that held the key to his heart on it. The memories of you plagued his mind like a Rolodex suck in flip mode. No matter the time of day or night, you were on his mind. Jake swore he could feel you. He swore black and blue he could hear your laugh in the wind and see your smile on others. But in the night, in the depths of darkness when Jake’s mind would wander, he could only ever see you in that cell. Broken and bruised. 
“Whether they were being yelled or softly spoken, she always had something to say about everything,” It was possibly the hardest address he’d ever had to give. Your Eulogy. “But I know I speak on behalf of everyone here today when I say, no matter what she had to say, everyone here would take the time to listen,” 
Trauma doesn't tell time. It can't tell if we're eight or forty-one. If a kid has chicken pox or if you have the biggest, most challenging recovery ahead of you. And when it sneaks up on us, it's easy to think that we're right back at square one. 
“Y/n once took the time to coax me back from a platform I never even knew I was ready to jump from,” Jake’s words echoed into the valley below as a crowd of mourners paid their respects to your now-dead self. You could feel their sorrow as you watched from a distance, ready to move on to the next life. But someone was keeping you tethered to the real word. Someone wasn’t ready to let you go. 
That someone being Jake Seresin. 
“She said to me, one night when the memories of our shared trauma were all too consuming, that on the days when you miss someone the most, as though your memories are sharp enough to slice through skin and bone.” Jake took a moment to pause as a breeze rolled through the valley and carried fall leaves along in its path. He could feel you in every breath he breathed and every tear he cried. “Remember how they loved you. Remember how they loved you and do that for yourself.” 
Jake wanted nothing more than to trade places with you right now. He knew that someday soon he’d reunite with you. The time he’d been given with you was a cruel, sick joke that whatever God at the wheel that day decided to play. He couldn’t blame himself, you’d told him time and time again that none of it had ever been his fault. But there was blame, and someone would take the full front of it. That someone was sitting right in the front row, alongside your father. Bradley Bradshaw. 
“In their name, in their honour. Love yourself as they loved you. They would like that.” Jake paused as the sun peaked out from behind a collective of clouds that had somewhat shaded the hilltop on which you’d been buried. A non-traditional naval burial as Jake knew your wishes. You wanted to be at rest, at peace with your short time on earth. You had brought him here one afternoon to help him find solace. Jake thought to himself that it would be the perfect spot to spend all of eternity, in this life and the next. 
“I never really understood, but standing here today, I realise now that ‘they’ was ‘her’ all along.” Jake again took a moment to collect himself as he took another deep inhale, reminding himself to breathe. “I will always live out the rest of my days in honour of you, my dear,” Jake meant every word he spoke. “Till my dying days,” 
The truth is, even when our brain convinces us we're lost, if we try hard enough, our bodies will always remind us that there's a way back. And prepares us for whatever fight lies ahead. 
“Jake, buddy, it’s time,” Rooster had known that Jake never left your eternal resting place during the wake. Everyone had paid their respects, everyone had said their final goodbyes. Jake though, he couldn’t bring himself to leave you on that hill all by yourself. What if you got cold? What if it started to rain? What if a storm rolled through, you hated thunder. What if you got lonely? He knew you were afraid of the dark. 
So, Jake stayed. He stayed with you for hours, just sitting beside the newly laid dirt that was your grave. 
“You can't stay here forever,” Bradley spoke softly as he crouched beside the broken shell of a man who was once Hangman. A confident, promising, highly skilled aviator. Now? Jake was just a broken man who had lost everything, his career, the love of his life, his passion for life. 
All because he cared too much. 
“You should be under that dirt, Bradshaw,” Jake shot back when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “It should have been you,” 
It hadn’t been the first time, and it wasn’t about to be the last time that Jake took his grief out of Rooster. Bradley knew deep down that it couldn’t have been true. But as he sat beside the man who had been through so much pain, turmoil and torture, he thought perhaps there was an element of truth in those words. 
“Let’s get you home, Hangman,” Bradley sighed as he heard the clap of thunder rolling in from a distance. Jake heard it too, he didn’t move. “Y/n wouldn’t want you to stay here like this. They win if you can’t bring yourself to stand up,” 
Jake didn’t move, he wasn’t going anywhere. He simply stayed kneeling beside your grave with his head hung low in defeat. 
“They won the minute we hit the fucking ground, Bradshaw,” Jake sobbed prolifically as he crumbled. Bradley caught the shattered mess of a man who was Jake Seresin, his wingman. 
“I got you man,” Rooster sighed as he held Jake’s crying self in his arms. Right beside your grave as the storm rolled in. “I got you,” 
“I’d give anything for it to be you!” Jake screamed as he felt Bradley tighten his grip around him, tethering him to the last remaining slither of his own sanity. “It should be you, not her!” 
All Rooster did was hold his friend for dear life, silently crying with him. He knew how much grief coursed through his best friend’s veins. He’d felt it all his life. But this? This was something new entirely. 
“I’d switch–” Was all Rooster said as Jake cried in his brother’s arms. “I’d switch–” He repeated as the tears Jake cried soaked into the Bradley suit pants. “Without any hesitation man, I’d switch,”
********************************
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iceunhie · 12 days ago
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life update....
hello! so, i suppose i have to make an obligatory post on why i haven't been very active lately. first of all: life, second: life, and third: demotivation. (7-7 classes SUCK but hey i got myself into this mess ijbol)
yep. hate to say it but i think I'm a little burnt out from writing. anyways! while i can't be sure that ill be more active soon, i will still post my queued fics, as I'm (mostly) don't writing them and will just proofread lmfao.
soooo, to give you all some hope about my writing pace, here are some of my wips that will eventually be posted, so do stay tuned in the future!
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
LA LA LOVE! — an @ iceunhie 3k milestone event (ft. various x reader)
a compilation of written fics about various characters from various prompts! [ STATUS: masterlist currently in the works . . . ]
I'M A VILLAIN BUT WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH ME?! — a honkai star rail various x reader au
premise: becoming a villain in your favorite historical novel certainly wasn't on your bucket list, but here you are, the ominous status window hovering above you like a blade on your neck (if you don't do at least one villainous act, you'll die?! seriously, what trashy setting is this?!); you have no choice but to play your part, creating obstacle after obstacle for the protagonist, even interacting with protagonist's love interests so at least one of them would hear your plight. wait, but what's this....? why— why are they not leaving you alone?! featuring: sunday, aventurine, dr. ratio (pt 1.) || moze, jing yuan, jiaoqiu (pt. 2) [ STATUS: TBA . . . ]
MISCELLANEOUS ��� ONE SHOTS/MULTIFICS
all's fair in love and war! — fatui harbingers x reader
save me a kiss — HSR x reader
who fell first, who fell harder? — HSR and genshin various x reader
red, red roses — genshin men x reader
“if we broke up, i'd go back to my ex” prank — hsr x reader (there will be a genshin version)
there are more but these are at the top of my head lmfaoooo
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bulkyphrase · 2 months ago
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De-Aged Steve Rogers - a fic rec list
Some of my favorite stories featuring Steve (and sometimes others) turned into a child or younger adult.
Chase All The Clouds From The Sky by written by IndigoNight, with podfic read by reena_jenkins (@jeminamoonnight, @reena-jenkins) (Gen, General Audiences, 15,421 words)
Summary: Magic is the worst. The Avengers are prepared to deal with a wide variety of crises, but an abruptly six-year-old Steve Rogers is not one of them. Especially not when their resident Rogers-expert is reluctant to cross the Winter Soldier-sized gap separating him from his miniaturized best friend.
5 Times an Avenger Realized They Don't Know Steve + 1 Time One Did by WendyDarling95 (@cap-is-bi) (Samsteve, Teen And Up Audiences, 22,876 words)
Summary: A witch sends Steve back mentally and physically to who he was in 1941, and now the Avengers are starting to realize that while they've known Captain America for years now, they may never have met Steve Rogers. Takes place in 2016 5 chapters of an Avenger realizing Steve is more than he seems + 1 where someone knows him very well
More below the cut!
Baby Steve Adventures by catty_the_spy (@cattythespy) (Gen, General Audiences, 2,955 words)
Summary: Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him. Also available as a podfic read by blackglass
The Adventures of Not-So-Baby Steve by catty_the_spy (@cattythespy) (Gen, General Audiences, 2,070 words)
Summary: Steve's adjusting to not being a baby. Everyone else is adjusting too.
Small, Not Stupid by @rsadelle (Gen, General Audiences, 346 words)
Summary: Bucky's not going to let the kid fall - even if it weren't a tiny version of his former best friend, he wouldn't do that - but he's not real thrilled about having a small version of his former best friend - who he hasn't seen in seventy years - clinging to him.
The Kids Weren’t Alright by lettered (@letteredlettered) (Gen, Teen And Up Audiences, 56,199 words)
Summary: Tony accidentally turns himself into a twelve-year-old using alien tech. Steve is stuck as bodyguard, Bruce is stuck trying to fix him, and Pepper is stuck trying to ward off a twelve-year old’s attempts at flirtation. And then things go from bad to worse.
For I Am Crystal Chrome by IamShadow21, kath_ballantyne (@iamshadow21) (Gen, Teen And Up Audiences, 8,116 words)
Summary: “Don't touch that,” he forces out, his throat as rough as gravel. “Don't.” “Okay,” the person says, and doesn't try to pull out of Tony's grasp. “Okay, I won't.” Tony sucks in a sharp breath and opens his eyes. “You're American. The terrorists got you, too?” The man he's holding on to is young, very young. He's slender and frail looking with a pale, wan face, and Tony would know him anywhere. “Terrorists?” Steve Rogers asks, with confusion. “Oh shit, I really am dead, and there's an afterlife, and it sucks,” Tony moans.
Mixed-Ages Classroom by harcourt (@haforcere) (Gen, Not Rated, 5,114 words)
Summary: For this prompt, where the Avengers are de-aged, but to different ages; Clint & Tony to young children (below 10), Bruce to a toddler (whose tantrums involve hulking out to bb!hulk), Natasha & Steve back to teenagers (with scrawny!Steve). In which Hulk is a baby, Natasha and Steve know they aren't real teenagers, Clint and Tony behave badly, and Maria Hill is not a parent but Coulson might be. Also available as a podfic read by blackglass
The Tactical Applications of Caramel Apples and Ring-Tailed Lemurs by @caffienekitty (Gen, General Audiences, 2,342 words)
Summary: Loki de-ages Captain America. This is not the best idea he's ever had, but he can work with it.
Meet Tomorrow If You Choose by Dira Sudis (@dsudis) (Samsteve, Explicit, 9,440 words)
Summary: "Not quite like the other me, huh," Steve said, because there was no point pretending. "Nah, actually I was thinking I can see it," Sam said. "The way you stand--you project, you know? Like in a way you really always were the big guy, just your body took a while to catch up."
De-Aged Steve Rogers by @sabrecmc (Stony, Not Rated, 8,458 words)
Summary: Steve gets de-aged and clings to Tony
Second Childhood by @navaan (Stony, General Audiences, 2,006 words)
Summary: Steve and Tony get de-aged and it brings some problems, but maybe it gives them a chance to start over.
Smells Like Teen Spirit by @jenthesweetie (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 7,363 words)
Summary: Because that’s what the magic explosion had done: it had turned all of his friends into hormonal, pimpled, unbelievably obnoxious teenagers. When he called Fury to ask for advice, Fury laughed, hung up on him, called him back just to laugh some more, and then said, “If nobody’s dying, Stark, I really don’t care” and hung up again. Tony wondered vaguely who he had pissed off, besides all the usual suspects. This felt more as though he’d pissed somebody off in, like, a cosmic way.
Clint Barton And The Adventures In Terror Twin Rearing by @attackofthezee (General Audiences, 3,074 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)
Summary: “Maybe it’s aliens.” Steve hisses at Barnes. “Aliens don’t look like people Steve.” Barnes says with all the surety of an eleven year old. And ho boy, does Clint kind of want to introduce this version of these two to Thor. In which Steve and Bucky are somehow turned into their ten and eleven year old selves and Clint Barton is somehow nominated to take care of them. It goes about as well as can be expected. Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)
They Could Never Be the Same by ABrighterDarkness (@alwaysabrighterdarkness) (Thundershield, Teen And Up Audiences, 1,234 words)
Summary: The situation at hand being a magically-miniaturized Steve Rogers who had hardly spoken a word but followed either Thor or Natasha around like a tiny shadow ever since they’d been released from Medical. SHIELD medical were, of course, every bit as shocked to have the Avengers show up en masse to deliver an apparently four-year-old Captain America to get checked over.
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causenessus · 4 months ago
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YAY CONGRATS ON 1k!! you totally deserve it and your work is phenomenal and i can’t wait to see what else you make <3
for the event.. could i get a fluff 📚 fic w/ kuroo where the reader helps him find a book as a library aid??
see you again. | kuroo t.
kuroo x f!reader
written in 3rd pov
one word prompt from 1k followers event: 📚 -> library
"my heart's on mars, kinda hard to see, but you know i'll see you again <3" from when will i see you again by shakka (DOES NOT fit the vibes at all i mean kind of in my delusional brain but i just like the song and it fits the title <3)
word count: 1.9k words
notes: lots of fluff!! kuroo being down bad for the reader upon first meeting her, reader also being down bad. kuroo being a nerd bc man could be sexy or flirt to save his life <3 bokuto being the real star of this entire follower event apparently who knows how many more fics he's gonna make it into. also this was really fun to write bc little lore drop but one year in high school i once got kicked out of a class (very convoluted thing, they thought the class was triggering me which was lowkey a fair statement) so i got to be a library aide instead <333 i'm going to say this is not edited bc i don't want to deal with my mistakes or take responsibility for them. THANK U FOR THIS REQUEST WYR!! I LOVE YOU SM <3 I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIC
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although she enjoyed the solace of re-shelving books on her own, she enjoyed helping others just as much. it was like getting snippets of people’s lives through the books they were in search of. sometimes students came in looking for books for classes, which allowed her to meddle a little into just how many majors her school really offered, and how niche they could be. others came in looking for books to pass the time and she was always happy to recommend one of her favorites if they were open to suggestions.
while some of the other aides were there because they saw the job as an easy, quick way to make some extra money, she took pleasure in her job. when lost students came up to the counter asking for help locating a book, most of the aides felt that they had done their job well when they gave the student some kind of cryptic number and last name to scour the shelves for in return. however, numbers revealed nothing of where a single book could be in a large room piled with books that lined and stuffed every shelf and corner they could fit into.
she often took it upon herself to go on a search with the students who came to her for help. she’d consult the system for where a book was located and then lead the student to where the book was located rather than just sending them on their way. sometimes it took a few minutes to find what they were looking for, but they always found it in the end.
asking someone to wander around a university’s library and expecting them to know where a book labeled “796.31 dearing” was located was the equivalent to asking them to find a needle in a haystack. she didn’t expect anyone to know where a book was right off the bat; that was her job, and she was happy to help.
kuroo always dreaded going to the library. he dreaded everything about it. he loathed having to be quiet, aware of every noise he made, every rustle of his pant legs brushing against each other, and he hated trying to find the single book he was looking for amongst thousands of others. sometimes he felt like he'd be better off pirating a pdf version of a book off the internet, but it never appealed to him as much as a physical book.
over lunch with bokuto one day, he had rubbed a hand down his face and groaned at the thought of even stepping foot into the library, “i have to get a book for one of my social science classes, but do you know how hard they make it to find any kind of science book?”
“you should ask for y/n!” bokuto responded with a mouth full of food, “she’s really nice, she actually walked with me to help find the book i was looking for.”
“you went to the library to get a book? i would’ve expected you to just sparknote it,” kuroo teased with a sleazy grin.
his friend huffed, crossing his arms, “you should have more faith in me! i did read the book, but... it was because my professor had already caught me using sparknotes and said she’d fail me if she caught me using it again...” he trailed off and kuroo laughed.
“i think you just proved your own point wrong, buddy,” he rested his hand in his palm, looking down at the table they were sitting at. “you said her name’s y/n? what’s she look like?”
“mm, i don’t remember,” bokuto said, after a thoughtful pause, “she’s probably wearing a nametag, though. or just ask for y/n! someone will direct you to her.”
“that’s weird, man. what am i supposed to tell her when she questions why i specifically asked for her?” he responded with a sigh.
“just tell her i sent you! she knows me pretty well now, she won’t mind,” the dual hair colored boy shrugged before shoving more food into his mouth, “it’s that or search on your own for your book, but i’d say just find y/n, she can help.”
bokuto had a way of making everything seem like it would turn out fine, but all that confidence left him the moment he walked through the library doors. all he knew was he was on the lookout for a girl; nothing about what she looked like, just her name.
he could pretend to be cool and suave from afar, but when it came to actual interactions, he was never the best at maintaining his composure. he always talked too fast, or would regrettably talk more than was acceptable by his standards.
he settled for trying to find the book himself first. it was some kind of book about behavior, by a last name he thought sounded slightly like a serial killer. if he couldn’t even remember the author’s name, he was helpless. was it even worth trying to find someone to help him? or would he just make a fool of himself trying to describe the book he was looking for?
but he needed to find this book tonight, he knew that. he’d already put off reading it for long enough, and his deadline was coming up. knowing his grade was at risk, he defeatedly dragged his feet to the foot counter. it was impossible for him to casually stand there, looking at people’s name tags, and a girl at a computer was already looking at him, waiting patiently for him to tell her what he needed.
“uh–” he started off, trying to keep his voice low, “is y/n working tonight?”
the girl’s eyebrows knitted together, and he was distracted by the way her lips pursed before he tried to focus on her eyes instead, “that’s me. did you need something?”
perhaps it was luckier that he had found her on his first try rather than walking around like an idiot looking for a mysterious girl, but he couldn’t help worrying about how this interaction was already off to a bad start. he couldn’t believe bokuto could ever forget a face like hers when he was sure it’d be stuck in his head for weeks. “yeah, i’m looking for a book…?” he cringed at his own words. what else would he be here for? she only raised her brows, waiting for him to continue. “it’s um, a book on behaviorism i think. i’m majoring in sports management and i need this book for a social sciences class but i don’t remember what it’s called.”
his honesty made the corner of her lips lift, and he found himself staring again. she had to be wearing lipstick; there was no way her lips could be that red. “behaviorism? and you don’t remember what the book is called? what about the author?”
he shook his head. did he tell her his analogy? he’d already made a stupid first impression, “i don’t remember what his name was, but it sort of sounded like…”
“like a serial killer?” she finished, eyes flicking up to his own.
his own brows raised in surprise, “yeah, how did you know?”
she laughed softly at his remark, “i took a psychology class. it’s how i remembered his name too. i called him beef skinner, but his name’s b.f. skinner.” he found his own lips turning up, and they shared a smile before she cleared her throat, turning back to her screen. he watched her fingers fly across the keyboard under her hands before she turned her monitor screen around so he could see it. “does this cover look familiar? maybe by the title?”
it was a simple cover, dark blue with a tri-colored atom at the bottom. the title was written in bold capital letters: Science and Human Behavior. it clicked with him as he read the title and he could only nod, dumbfounded as she returned the screen back to its normal position.
“that’s exactly it. you’re like a genius, i can’t believe you found it based on three basic words,” he complimented, watching as she stood up, dusting off her pencil skirt. 
he felt a puff of pride in his chest, seeing the way she smiled at his words. “it’s my job,” she laughed again, “i think i had someone else come in looking for it a few days ago. too. call it good timing. your book should be somewhere in the 300s, i’ll lead you there.”
she waved a hand, motioning for him to follow as she came around the side of the counter and he was quick to follow. they walked along the aisles, her head tilting up ever so often to look up at the number plates adorning each shelf. “if you don’t mind me asking, how did you know my name?” she asked, turning back to him.
he fell into step walking alongside her as he hummed in thought, “i had a friend that mentioned you. i always get lost coming here and i was telling him about it and he said i should try to find you because you’re really nice.”
“aw,” she commented with a small smile as they turned down an aisle, “that was sweet of him to say. i’m glad i could help.”
their conversation went silent as they continued walking, and he found himself tugging at the collar of his sweater nervously. “he was right,” he mumbled.
“what was that?” she looked at him again, and he inhaled sharply again, looking into her eyes.
“nothing. i mean—i was just saying my friend was right. you’re very nice,” he spoke quickly, averting his eyes towards the floor. this was what he’d meant when he said he always talked too much; he really needed to learn to keep his thoughts in.
but when she laughed at his compliment, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to make a fool of himself if he could hear her voice again. “thank you, i’m glad to hear that. what was your name, again?” she asked, a blush dusting her cheeks. she couldn’t believe she was letting a boy’s words affect her in such a way when she didn’t even know his name.
he was thinking the same thing; how had telling her his name completely slipped his mind? “kuroo,” he said, stopping when she stopped, crouching to run her fingers along the spines of a row of books close to the ground. “my name’s kuroo tetsuro.”
“well, kuroo,” she said, standing back up and looking at him with that smile of hers. paired with the sound of his name on her tongue, he felt like he was going to pass out. “it was nice to meet you. and here’s your book. maybe i’ll see you again?”
“definitely,” he said too quickly, but it was worth it to watch her nose scrunch as she laughed, “i’ll definitely come back, it what meant. um, not just to see you. well— actually— it’d be kind of nice if maybe we saw each other again. maybe over dinner? could i get your number?”
“yes,” she answered, and when she bit her lip, trying to stop the way her smile had grew, he felt like he was standing in front of angel, “to all of that. meet me back at the counter?”
"okay," he breathed, watching her walk off, her hands grabbing fists full of her skirt. maybe the library wasn't as bad as he thought, after all.
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griefabyss69 · 7 months ago
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Inside The Fall
Written for @steddiemicrofic!
[ AO3 ]
'FOOL' wc: 1987 | rated: T | cw: Mention of weed
(This is the April Fool's version of the prompt, it includes all of the words needed)
Steve's used to stepping up in life or death situations, but otherwise he's directionless. He isn't expecting Eddie to be so good at helping him figure out the other parts of his future.
(Continues after the readmore)
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"Step into my office," Eddie says with a guiding sweep of his arm.
"You mean your bedroom?" Steve asks just to be annoying.
Eddie's smile doesn't dim but his eyes narrow, all sharp and shit.
"Yes, well, sometimes you have to mix business and pleasure when you're waiting around on the sweet cash that's supposed to be coming in any day now," he says, shutting the door behind them.
Eddie's bedroom isn't really like the last one, though Steve had only seen that in the height of insanity, when it'd been newly deserted and then torn through in search of anti-Vecna music.
This one is neater, though still pretty chaotic. Steve can't help but like it, even though he has to wait for Eddie to clear off his desk before he can conduct his business.
"Come, make yourself comfortable," he says, gesturing at his unmade bed.
Steve ignores the thrill in his gut as he carefully sits down at the edge of it. He doesn't make a joke about cum, or about making himself more comfortable, or about Eddie offering up his bed. He's on his best behavior because otherwise he's going to go too far and Eddie's going to think he's still just a stupid jock who has bad jokes, despite all of the shit they went through together; old habits and all of that.
Once Eddie's cleared his desk, he moves to the other end of it, leaning against the wall but resting his ass against the stack of milk crates he uses for shelving. He nods at the chair, his smile all menacing as if Steve was one of his players and he was going to give him a hard battle.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," he says when Steve hesitates, pulling a box out of his pocket.
Steve has to laugh a little bit, and moves over to the chair, settling in with his elbows on the desk. He has to look up to meet Eddie's eyes, and that puts another thrill in him, this one is harder to ignore.
"Don't let me win," Steve says, smirking. He knows that's not how tarot cards work, but Eddie's laugh is worth it, like he gets the joke and doesn't think he’s actually stupid.
"I'd never do that," Eddie gasps, bending to spread the cards out on the desk. They're all face down, so Steve can only admire the cool design on the back, but maybe after Eddie's finished reading into his future or whatever he'll let him look through all of them.
He explains some of what he's doing, and it seems simple enough. He asks Eddie a question, Eddie gets him to shuffle the cards, then there’s some kind of sorting thing, then he pulls a few of them.
"What would you like to ask?"
He's tempted to ask something… easy. Something that doesn't matter, and doesn't show Eddie the inside of his head. But Eddie had offered this in the first place because Steve had admitted that his thoughts have been all fucked up, he's been pretty lost these days.
"What should I do with myself this summer?"
Eddie nods, considering that as he gestures to the cards.
Steve carefully shuffles them around in a big mess, as instructed. It's kind of fun, and he takes his time before sitting back, relaxing.
"Okay, that should be all mixed up," he says, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. He's determined to try to be comfortable, even with Eddie looming over him, his arms crossed over his chest.
He looks really good from here.
"Good," Eddie says, bends to corral the cards back into order, tapping it into neatness before he sets it down. "Split the deck in half for me."
Steve leans forward, meaning to find the exact center, but he ends up going with his gut and splits it closer to the bottom. For whatever reason, he's more curious about what's buried deeper.
"Thank you."
Eddie chews on his lip as he thinks, eyes going from Steve to the cards and back against a few times before he smiles.
"Draw three cards from here," he says, tapping the shorter stack. "Place them face down in a row."
Steve follows his instructions.
While he doesn't really believe that the cards are magic or whatever, he does believe in Eddie's ability to create an atmosphere. He's not even being dramatic or loud or anything, but he's bringing such an earnest seriousness to it that makes Steve decide to take it seriously too.
"Okay. If this doesn't answer your question at all, we can do another run of it, with more cards," he says, leaning his palms on the table. "Though usually unless a question involves a lot of people or a lot of moving parts, three is perfectly fine to answer it."
Steve starts to feel nervous, so he just nods and watches Eddie’s hands, thinks about how clean Eddie's new rings look, wondering when they'll start to get worn in by life like the last ones.
Eddie turns over the first card.
"The Knight of Swords," he says, his dimples coming out even as he tries to suppress a smile. "Other cards in this suit can be a warning, but this one is generally good."
Steve swallows. He knows he doesn't want bad news, but Eddie told him this all wasn't like, his destiny anyway. It's more of a guidance thing, like he can choose to take it's message or not.
Eddie flips the next one.
"The Seven of Wands."
He doesn't say anything else about it yet, just thinks for a moment before moving on, flipping the last one.
"The Fool."
Steve's eyebrows raise, because that doesn't sound good.
"Okay," Eddie says, leaning back against the wall, playing with one of his shiny rings. "What I'm getting for this is that you're restless, and that instead of all of the freaky monster adventures you've had, you really need a good adventure. Something new, maybe something a little different than you're used to, but ultimately you need to relax and just do what you want."
Steve looks at The Fool, about to walk off a cliff, and feels skeptical.
"Won't I end up like that?" he asks, pointing at it.
"Don't take the pictures so literally," Eddie says, and Steve has to sigh at him. "Your energy is high, like a magnet for good things," he elaborates, pointing at the Knight of Swords.
Next he points at the Seven of Wands.
"You're probably doubting yourself, dealing with a lot of fear and uncertainty, but good things are in store if you just do what you're scared of anyway. You need to remember that you're in charge of your life now."
Steve gets a lump in his throat. He hasn't ever felt in charge of his life.
"And our Fool here, what he says is that you need to pick something and try it out, whether it works or not. Do it thoughtfully, but you don't have to think that hard about it."
"Oh," Steve says. He hadn't expected to feel so… encouraged. Taken care of. "That's nice of him."
Eddie laughs, his voice quieter when he leans back down against the desk.
"It sounds like it'll be a good summer for you," he says.
After Eddie had cleaned up the cards and Steve had successfully kept himself from crying, they went off on the first nice adventure of Steve's summer.
Eddie had put a couple joints in with his smokes, and then they wandered off on a late afternoon walk, right into the shady forest, where it's not too dark yet.
"You know," Eddie begins as they walk side by side even though the path is kinda narrow. "I think you'd make a good Knight."
Steve thinks it's so not fair how much that makes him blush. He has to duck his head and grin at the ground just so he doesn't like, tackle Eddie and kiss him on the mouth and plummet off of the cliff of his own foolish behavior.
"Yeah? Do you think there'd a Knight for a baseball bat with nails in it?" he asks, looking back up to keep up his eyes on the area. Mostly it’s tree branches and nothing tougher than a squirrel.
Eddie laughs, nudges up against him as he moves, and because it's like, June, it's warm enough that he's just in his new Hellfire t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up. That means the skin of their arms brush together and Steve's brain lights right up.
"A nailbat is kind of like a sword," Eddie muses, the warm look in his eye doing irreparable damage to Steve's self control. "I might be more interested in what kind of Fool you are, though."
Steve blushes harder, mourning how it'd started to go back down just a moment ago. There's no way Eddie could've known what he'd been thinking of doing, but he knows and so do the blood vessels in his face.
"Uh, I'm not sure," he lies, shrugging. "I guess we'll find out."
Eddie beams, slides an arm around his shoulders as he says something that gets totally lost – Steve's brain has honed in on Eddie's body and only that, his feet starting to trip over themselves as he takes in the solid way they fit together.
"Easy," Eddie murmurs as he makes sure he doesn't face plant. "Is it too hard to walk this way?"
It's a little awkward, but there's no way Steve's letting him go.
"Nah, just had two left feet for a second," he says, turning his face to smile at Eddie and – Christ – he's right there. He has to go cross eyed to get a good look at him.
His gut pulls hard but he breathes through it. If anything, he knows how to be a gentleman and not just do whatever the hell he wants. Maybe his instinct for self protection is pretty busted by now, but at least he's not about to go around kissing random men just because he wants to.
Eddie laughs, and his eyes must be going cross eyed too, because they dip down to stare at his mouth instead, his long eyelashes showing off their thick, sweet curve.
"Girls would kill to have your eyelashes," he says, pleased when Eddie opens his eyes wide, shocked.
"What?" he laughs, glancing at the path before looking back at Steve. He's glad that one of them is looking out for tree roots, because Steve can't bring himself to care about anything but the feeling of Eddie's breath on his face.
"Your eyelashes, they're really long and nice," he says, less afraid to compliment him than he'd thought. "Most girls wear mascara to get theirs to look like yours."
"Oh." Eddie grins, turning his head to duck it all bashfully, and Jesus, Steve recognizes himself in that. "Thank you."
Steve can see the stones crumble from the cliff under his foot, knocking their way down the side until they disappear. He's about to do something really stupid – foolish – but his composure falls away under the force of every side of Eddie he sees.
"Eddie?" he asks, waiting until their eyes meet. "Will you kiss me?"
Eddie stumbles, barely catches himself from landing flat on his face, pulling Steve half down with him.
"Uh," he says, a nervous laugh chilling the air. "Why?"
Steve swallows hard, planting his ass on the ground so he's not halfway between straddling him or getting up.
"Because even though I'm scared, I should ask about what I want, right?"
"Oh, okay," Eddie’s voice is thin and strangled. "Sure."
It's a yes despite how Eddie looks scared now, so Steve leans in and crushes their mouths together, falling freely among the stones of his trepidation. Eddie kisses him back like they’re standing on solid ground.
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farfromstrange · 1 year ago
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Tupperware | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: A conversation about kitchen supplies leads to something more...
Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 you tap it), multiple orgasms, aftercare
Word Count: 6.7k (This is a literal Smut Beast)
A/n: Yeah, whatever you think the title means in context, I guarantee you, this is different. But also, maybe not. I found this in my drafts because it was originally planned as an FG One Shot, but I decided to just throw my plans off the board and turn it into a reader insert (I've written this a while back, but I reread and edited it). Funny story: I found this writing prompt and it reminded me of the accent I have and how I say Tupperware (and how everyone in my State says Tupperware, the German version ofc), and I found it funny because that is definitely something I did when I said it in English for the first time. Anyway, enjoy!
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The couple sat on his couch, the lights of the Billboard growing more distinctive as the sun started to set. He was working on the paperwork that had piled up over the days while she was reading something on her laptop. The steady typing of her fingers synchronized with her steady breathing. He didn’t mind the sound of her working. He enjoyed the carelessness of it all. Just two people seeking the comfort of each other’s presence while doing two completely different things. It wasn’t weird, it was productive.
At some point, he reached for her leg that was poking his side and placed it in his lap. She smiled at the casual, domestic action. His fingers stroked her calves absentmindedly while his mind continued to occupy itself with the information on the case that reached in through his headphones.
He heard her laugh at something. He smiled as he asked, “What?”
“I was looking for some accessories for our kitchen,“ – his heart bloomed at the pronoun, – “And now Google is trying to sell me  Tubberware,” she stated. “I don’t even use Tubberware anymore.”
The headphone fell from his ear.
“What are you saying?” Matt asked.
His lip twitched, more in disbelief than amusement, but it was also weirdly adorable, the way the ‘b’s’ rolled from her tongue.
“Say it again,” he told her.
Her eyebrows crinkled. “Tubberware,” she said, remaining serious and clueless throughout.
“Say it again. Slow.”
“Tubberware.”
“Slow, very slow– actually, say the first syllable.”
Her frown deepened. “Tub,” she said confidently.
Matt bit his cheek. “Wrong.”
“What do you mean, wrong?”
“I thought I caught that. You’re saying tub. It’s P.”
He had to keep telling himself not to laugh, but it was so incredibly hard with the pout on her lips growing by the second.
She removed her leg from his lap and sat upright, laptop moving dangerously close to the edge of her thighs. “What are you talking about?” she asked.
“Tupperware,” he stated. “Tupper.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. “It’s Tupperware?!”
He couldn’t hold it any longer. The laugh rolled off his lips like a serenading song. “It’s Tupperware, always has been, always will be,” he choked out.
The pout came back, stronger than before. A frustrated pout. This was entirely different from the confused and irritated one. “I thought it was tubberware because it kind of looks like a tub,” she muttered.
“Oh, baby,” he laughed.
“It looks like a tub,” she said.
“I know it does. I’m sorry.”
“Stop laughing at me, you dick!”
“I’m really sorry, sweetheart. It’s just… say it again. Please. For me.”
“So that you can make more fun of me?” she asked. “No thank you.”
“I’m not making fun of you, I promise. It just sounds so cute when you say it. Do it for me, please. I want to hear it again.”
She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of laughing too. She was supposed to be mad at him, but she somehow couldn’t because looking at it from this angle, she realized how stupid it was. Tubberware. It was hilarious, even.
“Tubberware,” she said again, trying to breathe through the fit of laughter bubbling in her throat.
Matt laughed. “Again,” he begged.
“Tubberware.”
“It’s so cute, I can’t-“ his voice cracked.
“I hate you!”
“I know you want to laugh,” he titled his head knowingly, “so laugh.”
“No,” she said.
“Please."
“Don’t tell me what to do,” but at this point, she was already laughing. The sound he loved so much grew louder by the second.
Her stomach hurt. His did, too.
“I’ve been saying it for years,” she said between breaths. “And no one’s ever told me. Oh, God!”
“I’m sorry,” said Matt. “I didn’t mean to… Tubberware.” He giggled. “It’s adorable.”
“Shut up!"
"I'm sorry, I'll stop." He wiped some more of his laughing tears.
Grateful for his attempt to compose himself, she nodded. "Okay,” she turned back toward her laptop, “While we’re already on the issue, do we need anything else?"
He threw his head back, thinking. “We could use some new spatulas,” he said. "And lunchboxes. Tupperware has some great choices, you should take a look."
Her laugh died into a smile. “You know I love you, right?”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“What I’m saying is, we’re not getting Tubberware.”
“Why not?” He cocked an eyebrow. “They’ve got great kitchen stuff and it’s easy to use. You know, for me as a blind man…”
“Matt Murdock, are you one of those Tubberware grandmas?” It was her turn to laugh.
He pouted. “Shut up.”
“Oh no, we need to talk about this.”
“No, I’ve got work to do. You should buy what I just said. We definitely need that.”
“Alright, let me see what Amazon has," she said.
“No, we'll get it from Tupperware," he retorted. "I've been using nothing else for years."
“That's not my problem. There are cheaper options. Amazon, same-day delivery.  Why do we have Prime if we don't use it? And don't say because of the Podcasts, we have Spotify, which is ten times better."
“Tupperware has better quality.”
“I'm buying the spatula and the lunchboxes from Amazon, end of discussion.”
There was a playful smile on his lips, already telling her what he was about to say next was merely a joke. “You’re not the man of the house,” Matt argued. “As the man of the house, I dictate where we buy our kitchen supplies.”
She gasped, her mouth hanging wide open as she processed his words. Even though it was a joke, she couldn't help but feel slightly offended at even the prospect. Shaking her head, she cocked her eyebrows at him and said, “And as the woman you depend on to suck your dick, I strongly suggest you think about what you just said.”
He bit his cheek. “Oh, so we’re going there?”
She smirked. “I thought you could handle it, tough guy.”
“Okay, that’s it!” He tossed the case file aside, tore the laptop from her hands, and pulled her into his lap in one swift motion.
Matt was always the first to suggest a gentle game of teasing, but he barely had any tolerance for it. He was always the first to get riled up, no matter what. Perhaps she should have thought twice about her words, but it was so much more fun to see him like this than give in too soon.
He rolled her hips down into his, his fingers sure to leave bruises as he guided her along his slacks. The moan she let out was guttural.
Matt bit down on her earlobe. “Mouth off on me again and this is all you’re gonna get for the next week,” he said.
Her thighs fluttered around his own. The heartbeat between her legs bounced off his muscles. The room suddenly grew too hot to breathe the toxic air in.
“On second thought,” she began, though when Matt’s lips wandered from her ear to her neck and down to her cleavage, the words got caught in her throat.
He ran his hands under her shirt. Her skin was hot. The rough callouses of his fingers pulled the fabric aside until it slipped off her shoulders.
“No bra,” he smirked. “Nice.”
She whined. “I really need to buy kitchen supplies now, Matt,” she tried again.
He sucked one of her nipples into his hot mouth. If they were hard due to the cold air in the apartment or because his touch sent her into overdrive she wasn’t sure, but once he was on her all she could think about was his stupid mouth on her tits.
Her nipple slipped off his tongue with a pornographic plop. “I want you to do as I say,” he said.
“You can't use your bedroom voice when we're talking about the apartment. Oh, fuck!”
He slapped his hand flat on her ass.
“You were saying?”
She wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his perfectly wet lips.
“Stop teasing me.”
Matt leaned back from the mess he made on her chest, eyelids fluttering innocently, hands rested on her hips again. “You said you needed to buy kitchen supplies,” he said.
And he was instantly back in his teasing mood, believing he finally got the upper hand.
“I lied,” she said.
“No, you didn’t. You really need to buy kitchen supplies.”
She huffed. “Fine, guess I’ll do it myself.”
He wanted to laugh.
Her shorts accompanied her shirt on the floor. Half naked, she plopped down next to him on the couch again.
Matt choked on nothing at all, her scent thick in the air. When her thighs moved, the sound it made was wet, hot, and sticky. He loved that sound. He loved it most when it was as close to his ears as possible, squished between those perfect thighs that made the sound unbearable.
She threw her head back, throat exposed. She sighed. Her fingers ran over her body, barely touching, only testing the waters. All hairs on her body stood at full attention, the ache between her thighs thudding so hard to the point where she could hear nothing but blood in her ears. Her heart sped up, half because of embarrassment, the other half because of excitement. She wasn’t sure what was stronger. They’d never done anything like this before and she doubted he’d even let her. Up until this point he hadn’t done anything but listen closely though, fists clenched around the soft fabric of his slacks close to his crotch.
Her fingers ghosted over the waistband of her panties. Black silk. He liked the feeling of lace on her, but after some time it began to tickle and he hated the way it itched at his skin, so she barely wore lace anymore. He had his hands on her at all times, she had to adapt.
Matt’s hand shot out instantly. Her fingers barely breached her panties and he already had enough. “Don’t you dare,” he said.
“Why?” she challenged. Her voice was nothing but a series of breaths.
“Because it’s mine.”
“If you won’t touch me-“
He shoved his fingers down her underwear.
“Fuck!” Her head fell even further down the armrest.
“You were saying?”
“I’m sorry. Keep going.”
“Why?” his thumb stopped over her clit. “Why should I give you anything?”
“Because I will buy or- or do anything you want from now on, I promise!”
“Watch your tone, sweetheart,” he bellowed.
“Please,” she squirmed, searching for any kind of friction. His hand kept her hips restrained without even trying, any move grazing her just enough to make her body jolt, but not nearly enough to be pleasurable.
“Hm,” he hummed.
“Please?”
“Okay,” and he pressed his thumb down so hard, she swore she saw stars dance around her clouded vision.
She moaned just the way he liked it. “Fuck.”
“Will you keep quiet?” Matt resumed his work. Even though his pants were painfully tight, he acted like nothing had happened. “I need to finish this paperwork,” he told her. “I won’t ignore my responsibilities just because someone decided to be a needy whore today. So if you want to cum, you better stay quiet so I can concentrate.”
His thumb worked its way up and down her clit, circled, and drew patterns she’d never seen before. She bit into her bottom lip until it drew blood.
He knew her body better than anyone else, better than herself even. He knew what she liked, what made her squirm, what she didn’t like, and what could make her body shake instantly.
Her body was an altar. He had every last inch mapped out to perfection. Her skin was soft like a sunny day in spring and it smelled salty like the sea, sweet like the field of flowers in Central Park, and distinctive like summer rain. Every time he touched her, he was on fire. The temperature in her body changed with every flick of his fingers. Every hitch of her breath he caught onto. She didn’t even have to tell him to keep going, he simply knew.
Matt worshipped her body like he would kneel on the bench at church. She was a row of burning candles before the cross and he knelt before her like a pathetic disciple willing to do anything to please the divine being.
Her stifled moans through the palm of her hand drove him crazy. Usually, he was a lot more composed than that, but it was late, he was overworked and he was horny, and he couldn’t concentrate with the wetness of her arousal lying thick in the air. He licked his lips to taste it. He tasted the air like a starved man.
Matt growled. “Fuck this,” he said.
She protested silently when he retreated his thumb. She sat up against the armrest, staring at him. His hair stood in all directions from the hand he ran through it, his lips plump, seeking friction.
“Come here.” He grabbed her hips and placed her back on his lap, legs on either side of his thigh. “I need you close to me,” he breathed into her mouth as they met halfway. “Ride my thigh.”
She swallowed. “What?”
“Ride my thigh. Be a good girl and ride my thigh. You want to make yourself cum, hm? I’m giving you an opportunity here, unless, of course, you’re too pathetic to do it yourself. Do you need me to help you, hm?”
She swallowed again. “Please,” she said.
His hands gently began to roll her hips against him. “Like that?” he asked.
The moan she let out was answer enough.
“Feel good?”
She bit into her lip, nodding wildly.
“Use your words,” he said. “Don’t hold back.”
Her head fell on his shoulder, hand seeking something to hold onto behind him at the back of the couch.
The silence earned her another hard slap on her ass.
“Answer me.”
She sighed. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Feels good. Keep going, please.”
Matt smirked. “Good girl.”
The leather was dented under her fingers. She held onto the couch for dear life. His hands guided her hips deliciously over his thigh, the fabric of his slacks mixed with the silk of her underwear sliding against her sensitive clit over and over again driving her closer and closer to the end.
She saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Her eyes rolled back. The pressure in her lower abdomen began to build slowly but steadily. She involuntarily sped up, sloppily fighting against the slow pace he’d set. He would’ve stopped her if he hadn’t been so riled up already, so he let her. He let her chase for the sweet relief the knot in her stomach prepared her for.
“Matt,” she whined his name.
One of his hands began to stroke her back. “I know,” he said. “I know, baby.”
Her thighs twitched around his, her entire body shaking underneath his touch. It was all too much. His rough hands on her hot skin, his fingers digging in sure to leave bruises, and the gentle coax of his hand on her back, stroking innocently to help her through it. His touch was too much to bear.
Matt instantly reached out when she threw her head back. The moan sounded delicious in his ears. He caught her head with his hand around the back of her neck, making sure she wouldn’t fall over and hurt herself. She clenched around nothing, thighs threatening to close but his own kept them open.
A tear slipped down her cheek. She wasn’t crying, not at all. The tear came from a place of pure pleasure. Her body couldn’t handle it. The sensations he put her through left her speechless every time he touched her. She couldn’t breathe. Her throat was dry.
His thumb drew circles on the back of her neck. He brought her back to earth after it just shattered before her very eyes.
“Fuck,” she choked out.
Matt guided her back into his chest and she took the support gladly. His heart beat against her bare breasts. The bulge in his pants became painfully clear once she regained feeling in her limbs. It brushed her thighs where it lay between his own.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.
“That was…” she couldn’t find the right words.
“I know.”
She didn’t quite trust her legs when she twisted to swing the one between his thighs over the other one. She kept her hands on his shoulders to straddle him without falling over.
Matt tilted his head, eyes searching for hers. “What’re you doing?” he asked hoarsely.
“Looks like you need some help,” she stated. She played with his belt buckle.
“It’s fine. You know I don’t need anything in return for making you feel good.”
“I know, but I want to. That looks painful.”
In one swift motion, she pulled the belt out of his slacks and tossed it aside.
Matt chuckled at her eagerness. “You are insatiable, you know that?” he dove in to kiss whatever bare skin he could reach.
His lips sloppily kissed down her neck and up again, chasing her lips. She kissed him back as hard as she could. Their teeth clashed, tongues fighting each other for dominance, knowing he’d win anyway. He swallowed every breath she took, sucking her dry and breathing new life back into her mouth.
She opened the button on his pants, trying hard to pull it down enough to get his aching cock out of them.
He caught onto her plan. Shifting his hips, she managed to reach into his boxers.
“Wait,” he said.
“What?” she blinked at him.
Matt reached for the hem of her panties. His fingers flexed.
Rip.
She gasped. The silk fell to the floor in nothing but flaps of fabric.
“I’ll buy you new ones.” He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.
“Fine.” In response, the buttons of his dress shirt flew in all directions. She ran her hands down his chest, satisfied with the ripped front of the shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders.
He chuckled. “That’s fair.”
She kissed down every exposed sliver of skin on his torso. Her tongue ran over the jagged scars, the freshly healed bruises from a couple of nights ago. He was beautiful. With the billboard casting a pornographic red light on them, eyes closed, he looked like the child of an angel and a demon. His entire existence was ephemeral, his body a wonderland.
She sucked one of his perky nipples into her mouth. He arched almost entirely off the couch.
“I love you,” she breathed against him.
She liked the way the words sounded. For someone so afraid of admitting her feelings not so long ago, she’d come quite far. It had become her new favorite thing to say. Though the true weight of the statement came in the moments they were intimate. She could chant the same three words to him all day, but the second they were close to each other, touching where only they could touch, those three words regained their true meaning. It was sweet, almost innocent. The kind of love everyone wished for. An endless spiral of butterflies danced around in their stomachs.
Matt chuckled. The very same sound turned into a moan once her teeth dug into the flesh around his nipples.
“I’m worshipping you now,” she told him. Her kisses traveled down his body.
Her warmth on his chest disappeared. Instead, the hot trail of kissed lead to the opened button of his slacks. Her tongue played with his belly button, the happy trail leading into Neverland.
She kissed each scar on either side. “Perfect,” she hummed. “I don’t deserve you and yet you’re mine. This is mine. Only mine. No one else’s.”
“I’m yours.”
“Mine,” she kissed the lower part of his stomach. “Mine,” her lips landed on the hem of his boxers. “Mine,” it was an animalistic growl. She pulled down his underwear swiftly.
Matt didn’t have time to comprehend what was happening. He was so in awe of the way she touched and spoke of his body, he listened to her for the sake of having her praise him over and over again. The words carried innocence in their sinful ways.
He choked on air. His scars long forgotten, her mouth opened around its original destination.
“Lord have mercy!” he grabbed a fistful of hair.
Her tongue licked a thick stripe down his shaft.
Matt was a religious man. He prayed regularly and went to church and Sunday Mass. He swore never to take God anywhere other than he needed to be, but that woman and her cursed mouth made him see God in the fiery land of his unseeing vision. What they were doing was outright sinful. He knew he’d go to hell for saying the lord’s name in vain. He’d go to hell for everything he’d ever done and yet, while that was the truth, he didn’t care because, at that moment, he was living. He was alive. He’d gotten used to the thought of going to hell, seeking penance almost every day since. With her though, something had awakened inside of him. He couldn’t let it go. The Devil inside of him wanted to play.
Her mouth danced perfectly to the gospel of his moans, he forgot who he was. He tried hard not to push her head further down his cock, although the warmth of her throat sent him into pleasurable overdrive.
The cold air hit the head, falling from her lips like a wet towel. “It’s okay,” she said. “Take what you need.”
It was all the confirmation he needed.
His hips bucked up into her throat. She had laid off the gag reflex the first time she had his cock in her mouth, knowing the act alone could turn her on for more than one day. She could cum from simply touching him, hearing the dirty sounds slip past his swollen lips, and she’d be more than okay with it. The sounds he made were heaven’s gift to her, she was sure.
His cock twitched against her throat. She braced herself, eyes already closed. 
“Stop,” he choked out.
She instantly sat back on her heels, naked and worked up.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.
“No, not at all.  I just… I need you.”
His chest heaved with the denied orgasm. The one he had denied himself. Anticipation rutted through his veins.
She swallowed the precum mixed with spit inside her hollowed-out mouth. The skin tingled. “You want me to-“ she pointed to his lap.
Matt sensed the motion. “If you want to,” he said. “But you can lay back and let me do all the work if that’s what you want. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
Her thighs trapped his. She’d never been so comfortable doing that before. She was completely naked on top of him while he sat there, half-dressed, eyes searching for what he couldn’t see. Blood rushed to her cheeks. The position was compromising.
He pulled the hair from her face. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “I don’t know what I’m doing but yeah, I’m sure.”
“You don’t have to. I’ve got you.” He pressed his lips to her collarbone. “Mine,” he licked a stripe up her pulse point. “Mine,” the spank landed right on her ass. The next touch of his fingers made her shudder. Her cheeks flooded red with blood. “And mine,” he parted his fingers between her thighs to spread the lips of her pussy wide open.
Part of her wanted to scramble away. He couldn’t see but he could feel everything. It was just about the same as having him watch every inch of her body closely. Every last crevice he wanted to memorize. She wasn’t sure what to think. Her brain refused to function. She was entirely bare to him.
“Matt,” she said his name.
“You’re beautiful. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He kissed her again. Passionate, loving. “Remember our safe word?”
“Hmm.”
“Tell me.”
“Red.”
He flicked the switch. “Okay, good girl,” the dark sound of his voice made all the embarrassment vanish. Instead, heat shot through her core. “Good girl, having your good little cunt spread for me. Just want to look at you the way I can. Want to see what’s mine. Want to feel how wet you are from riding my thigh. Oh, look at you!” he smirked. “This is turning you on, isn’t it? Your heart’s going crazy and you’re literally dripping.  You’re making such a mess on my good pants. You want to make a mess on my cock now too, don’t you? You want to be my good little slut and ride my cock?”
She only whined.
His hand slapped across her ass harder this time. The collision stung. “Use your words,” he demanded. “Use your words or I’m leaving you like this.”
“I’m sorry,” her voice came out sobbing. “I’m sorry. I want you inside of me. I want to be your good girl, I promise.”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Yes, please! Please fuck me, Matthew. I’ll do anything. Please!”
“Don’t cry.” He wiped her cheeks. “I know I’m good, but no need to cry. You’ll get what you want. Want to make you feel good, hm. You deserve it for always being so patient.”
“Yes, I’ve been patient. I’ve been good. So good.”
He laughed. “You’re already so dumb for me, baby. You sure you can take this?”
“Yes!”
“What’s your color?” The always caring Matt Murdock peaked out from under the dark, sex-crazed facade only she got to see.
She shuddered. “I-“ words came harder than they should have.
His head titled. Worry spread across his face, ready to take back whatever he said.
“Green,” she eventually managed to say.
She only wanted the ache between her thighs to be numbed. She wanted him so incredibly deep inside of her, she could feel him bulge her stomach, everywhere he could be inside of her.
Matt smirked, and it only grew darker from there.
“Good girl,” he praised again.
She slapped her hand on her mouth. He bottomed out quickly, without warning. He penetrated her without thinking twice about it, burying himself so deep inside of her, he could feel her walls contracting around him with every inch. She sucked him in and she screamed. She was sure she screamed. Her hand was the only thing keeping the neighbors from knocking on their door. His name slipped from her lips like a prayer, like she was singing his name in church and the word echoed off the walls for everyone to hear. Except no one was supposed to hear this. It was just them. This was their safe space. They could be however they wanted to be like this, and only then they could touch each other so sweetly when the world wasn’t watching them and they didn’t have to worry about anything other than themselves.
The sound was new, even for Matt. He too was sure he let out the nastiest sound known to man, but unlike her, he had no intention of masking it. He bottomed out and he chose to stay like this for just a little while longer, waiting for her muscles to relax, waiting for her to enjoy this.
The impatient roll of her hips eased his worries.
“Okay?” he asked quietly.
She breathed through her nose, “Okay.”
“Then ride me.”
And she did.
She started with a slow pace, taking her time to adjust to his size. Every inch of her felt perfectly filled out. He managed to reach parts of her she never could’ve found on her own. He had this way with her body, it was like a high that never ended, the endless train on the river of sugar rush.
Her eyes trailed up his body. Head tilted back, his eyes fluttered with every thrust of her hips. One arm flexed with the pressure he applied to the leather seat, the other was placed softly against the flesh of her hips. He made sure she knew he was there if she needed him to take control, though, at the same time, the move seemed almost domineering, leaving her no choice but to do as he wanted. She was completely at his mercy. Even the slightest touch made her cave. He knew it and she knew it.
If he’d told her to drive to hell with him, she would have.
The slow and steady pace felt like heaven to him. Her hips drew patterns to chase that spot so very deep inside of her, only he could reach it. The swirl was delicious around his cock, the hot, soft flesh of her insides rolling against him, up and down and up and down. He listened to her heartbeat, strangled breathing, and the goosebumps on her skin. Moan after moan escaped her lips, growing louder and louder until she couldn’t hold it anymore. He filtered out every hint of discomfort or frustration. What she liked, what she continued doing, and what just didn’t seem to work. She explored herself without even realizing and it turned him on even more. He could’ve sworn he felt himself getting harder inside of her if that was humanly possible.
His ears only picked up on rushing blood and labored breaths. There was nothing else but the feeling of her body, the scent of sweat, and bittersweet arousal on his lips and tongue. He was entirely enveloped in her. Everything was about her. Her body, her wetness, her heart. The heart between her legs, loud and dominant.
She whimpered at the sight before her. Matt Murdock in all his glory, half naked with his shirt ripped at her fingers, fabric, and skin clutched between her nails. Sweat coated his forehead, mouth slightly agape. His lashes fluttered around his unseeing eyes. She didn’t even have to move. If she wanted to, the sight would’ve been enough to make her come undone in a matter of seconds. He was so comfortable in her presence, his shoulders slouched in absolute relaxation as her movement urged him closer to his own release.
The next time her hips rolled down into his, he met her movements. His hips jerked up with a purpose. That purpose lay deep inside of her and he knew where it was. The thrust from underneath made her cry out. The spongy spot inside of her danced with euphoria as the head of his cock brushed against it.
He chuckled breathlessly. “There it is,” his head stayed hung over the back of the couch.
She braced herself. The new wave of pleasure only spurred her on. The way he dove impossibly deeper into her with every brush against that sweet spot had him reeling, gripping the leather for any kind of support. She followed close behind, her hips beginning to move as if her life depended on it. With every thrust, she sped up. Although her legs slowly grew tired, all she could feel was the tingling knot deep in her stomach blossoming into a beautiful flower and waiting to blow.
The hand that had once laid around her waist landed around her throat instead. The leather wasn’t nearly enough to keep him composed if that was even possible.
Hell’s Kitchen always haunted him. Noise and smell followed him home, and the sound of innocent people getting hurt kept him from falling asleep most of the time. He couldn’t tune it out. The city was a part of him. Even asleep, he dreamed of all the bad that was out there and all the things he’d done in his life, the things that lead him there, the people he’d hurt. The city never slept and neither did he, not really.
Though with her, for the first time, he was able to breathe. She overwhelmed his senses to the point it almost became unbearable. Her touch singed his skin yet calmed his mind down to the point he could tune out everything else and just focus entirely on the woman atop him. Sight was overrated. He didn’t need to see to know the way she moved was graceful in itself. Everything she did, she did with passion. The rolls of her hips were angelic. With her head thrown back, sweat and tear all over her face, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever come across. He could feel every inch of her, smell her, taste her. The whole wide city disappeared in the wake of her existence.
She was his salvation. He was drowning.
“Matt,” she sighed. His name rolled sweetly over her lips like she was singing him to sleep.
He squeezed his fingers around her pulse point. The pressure caged her in, sending moons across the stars in her galaxy. She reached for his wrist, not sure if she wanted to keep him or push him away. The tingling traveled from her stomach into every last crevice of her being.
He twitched inside of her. His muscles tensed. She rolled against him again, chest to chest. Hard nipples brushed against each other.
She dove in for a taste. Sweat had nestled into his stubble. Air was overrated. She kissed him until her lungs had nothing left to give. Until there was no other way but to swim back to shore to take a deep breath.
They’d fucked before. They had sex before. They’d done a lot of things. Whatever this was though, it counted as neither. Time was of the essence. Not too little, not too much. Just the right amount of time, simply savoring each other, getting to know each other as much as humanly possible in the most intimate sense. Subconsciously, they’d both been carrying way too much pressure. It showed in the way they craved each other. Starving animals in the middle of the desert preying for sustenance.
She scratched her nails through the hairs on his chin, leaving red marks down his throat. He groaned ever so softly into the depths of her mouth.
“I love you,” she said. His name came in serial moans. She breathed hard, heavy. Lost all sense of space and time, as if she couldn’t even believe it herself.
Matt tasted the salt on his tongue, wet strains of tears carried from her drenched cheeks to his. She was crying, whining, begging, and as lovely as it was to hold her like this, the words were the last straw to destroy his composure completely.
“I love you.”
He flipped her over like she was a doll, easily handled, thighs opened to grant him the space he needed to get between them. All the while his hand remained on its throne around her throat.
She moaned. The red lights of the billboard shone at him from behind, fading into hues of purple and blue with each thrust. His hips brushed against her clit every time he dove forward, hard and relentless, deeper and deeper. She couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. The lights became a distant memory. Nothing mattered but the hot pressure inside her lower abdomen, his weight on her, the twitch of his cock against the spot inside of her at the same time he brushed the spot outside of her and all eventually just became too much.
“Sweetheart, look at me,” he demanded. “Look at me!”
She forced her eyes open. He loved it when she looked at him, vulnerable, exposed. And though she tried hard to obey, his pace made it almost impossible to keep her eyes open long enough. Not much longer and the only was about to snap.
“Who do you belong to? Who’s making you feel good?”
“You,” she gave him the answer he wanted. “Always you.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Me, only me. You’re-“ he thrust his hips forward, “Mine. Mine.” he dug his teeth into her shoulder.
She sobbed. It was too much. Too good, too much. Her entire body was on fire.
“Matt, please.”
Waiting for permission, anything.
Fingers intertwined above her head on the armrest. She clawed onto him. His hand traveled down between their bodies, catching her clit just right between his fingers. Just a little more. Circles and triangles and more circles.
“All of this is mine, understood?” his face buried in the valve of her breasts. “I’m so in love with you,” he said. “So fucking in love with you.”
The Billboard outside exploded in fits of color. The coil snapped. She gave up the little control she had left, clinging onto him, shocks of pleasure wreaking havoc. Her pussy clenched around him. It was tight, so tight, and she kept him there until she could milk all he had to give her.
Matt stiffened. His mouth stayed open in a silent moan. Sound only came back to him once he came, hard. All the pressure from the week before unloaded and he fell on top of her, moaning, panting. His body vibrated with the aftershocks. The heat inside of her walls sucked him in until every last drop was spent, dripping along his softening shaft, out of her. 
The world stood still.
“I love you,” the admission blew hot against her sternum. Her hands raked through his hair, holding him.
She sighed blissfully. “I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
Matt was a sensitive person after sex. During, he took control. He hardly left her any time to breathe or think. After though, the world came crashing back in, his senses so overwhelmed by everything, he just needed someone to ground him. His mind wasn’t back yet, ears rushing with blood and every nerve in his body straining. The only thing keeping him sane was the beating of her heart against his ear.
Not sure if she could trust her legs just yet, she gently rolled them over. “Come on,” she whispered. “I’ll clean us up.”
He lay there, eyes directed at the ceiling. Her warmth disappeared only to be replaced by a lukewarm washcloth on his stomach.
She helped him out of his pants. The cold air of the apartment eased the burning.
He had regained most of his consciousness by the time she laid back on top of him. The sofa wasn’t spacious and for the first time, he was glad there was no space for her to move anywhere but his bare chest. The skin-to-skin contact made the sudden awareness less unbearable. He needed to focus on the feeling of her. He needed to remember what it felt like to breathe.
She traced patterns on his skin. Eventually, she asked, “You okay?”
“Thank you,” he said.
“You know, I love you too. More than anything.”
“I know.”
“I’m in love with you,” she looked up at him. “I don’t just love you, I’m in it. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He couldn’t help it. “Oh,” the tears flowed freely.
“Hey-“
Matt choked out a laugh. “You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said. "And I don't even know why I'm crying because I'm not sad, I'm happy."
Her eyes softened. She touched his cheek gently. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, kissing her palm, down to her wrist, and back up.
“I was thinking,” she broke the silence.
“Dangerous,” he muttered.
“Hey!” she slapped him only slightly, but it was enough to make him groan.
“I was thinking,” she began again. “How about, you and I,” her fingers traveled down his exposed chest, “take the day off tomorrow, stay in,” she kissed his throat, “and have absolutely filthy sex everywhere in this apartment until I can’t walk anymore.”
He moaned. “That won’t be so hard,” he said.
Needless to say, he didn’t buy any kitchen supplies that day, the day after that, or the day after that. Truth be told, she never got the chance to buy them.
“We can start today.”
The second they stepped into the shower, her chest was pressed to the cold tiles as he took her from behind.
Even if she’d wanted to, the throbbing between her legs the next morning made shopping for something as useless as kitchen supplies an impossibility. And as she sat on the kitchen counter in the morning, back arched with his head buried deep between her thighs, she realized she wouldn’t regain feeling in her limbs anytime soon.
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bittybeanie · 5 months ago
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fics for gaza
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august 13th update: all previously sponsored words have been completed, and sponsored wips are being paused! $5 requests will remain open, and gravity falls has been added to the list of available fandoms.
for examples of my works, check out my masterlist!
text version of images and more detailed information under the cut
hi y'all! i'm excited to announce that i'll be participating in @ficsforgaza! this post will be updated at least once a week as a progress tracker.
how it works: you make a donation to a fundraiser for palestine (for the indecisive or overwhelmed, i recommend gazafunds). then, you'll send me a screenshot of your donation with your personal info blocked out and a link to the fundraiser. then i'll start writing based on what you send along with your proof of donation!
you must be 18 or older to participate. if you ignore this rule, even if you make a donation, i won't take your request or count your word count toward any sponsored wips, and i will block you.
some housekeeping: your original ask/message will not be published, and i won't mention you on the finished fic post unless you verify it's okay in your ask. if you consent, you'll be thanked and tagged in the finished post. your donation amount won't be included.
rates: $1 = 100 words of sponsored wip (unlimited) OR $5 = 1 headcanon/drabble request (3 slots open at a time, these posts average about 800 words, and will be 600 words minimum)
rules for $5 requests: your request will be filled as either headcanons or a drabble, depending on what i think will lend itself better to the prompt. some direction is appreciated, but more general prompts such as tropes or lines of dialogue will help ensure i can fill your request! if a prompt is too specific, I may reach out and ask for more direction or for you to simplify.
you may request reader inserts for: mob psycho 100, osomatsu-san, undertale, gravity falls, the adventure zone (balance arc only)
request rules: requests may be nsfw. all requests must be for adult characters only. reader will be gender neutral by default (requests otherwise will be honored). requests may not include noncon, graphic violence, pregnancy, or family relationships (ie, you're related to the character). if your request includes something else i'm not comfortable writing, i'll get in touch privately for a second choice.
slot 1: open slot 2: open slot 3: open
wips available to sponsor:
on pause, check back later! total sponsored words written so far: 2,500!
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strawberrylabs · 1 year ago
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Strawberry's Whumptober masterlist!
warning!! some of these post will contain gore, death, mental distress and other themes that may be disturbing to some readers! Please pay attention to they tags on each post and read with caution!
note: These will be 'x reader' posts because as this is an 'x reader' blog. Most if not all characters will be genshin characters simply because I know them better. If you have a character you want with a certain prompt, feel free to request it and I will write it when I get to it
if I am late some days please rest assured the fics will be uploaded eventually!
PRONOUNS: majority of my works will have no pronouns or gendered terms used for reader, if they are used they will be gender neutral or they/them. If you'd prefer she/her or he/him, there will be a link on the gn fics for both other options. If there is a specific set of pronouns you want me to use, i can edit upload another version with those pronouns, just let me know<3
Update (17th of Oct): whumptober is being put in hold temporarily, some things are going on and I can't really write atm. Everything will eventually be written by the end of October! Just a little delayed is all. Please be patient<3
Day 1: "how many fingers am I holding up?" with Albedo from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 2: "They don't care about you" with Alhaitham from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 3: "Make it stop" with Xiao from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 4: "I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes" with Beidou from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 5: Debris with Wanderer from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 6: Made to watch with Kaveh from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 7: "Can you hear me?" with Kokomi from Genshin impacy [Here!]
Day 8: "It's all for nothing" with Abyss!Aether from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 9: "You're a liar" with Brother!Kaeya (and brother!Diluc) from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 10: "You said you'd never leave" with brother!Bennet from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 11: "No one will find you" with Cyno from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 12: "I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?" with Freminet from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 13: "I don't feel so good" with Tighnari from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 14: "Just hold on" with Heizou from Genshin impact [Here!]
Day 15: "I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself" with Ayato from Genshin impact [on hold]
Day 16: "Don't go where I can't follow" with Lyney from Genshin impact [on hold]
Day 17: "Leave me alone!" with brother!Mika from Genshin impact [On hold]
Day 18: Blindfold/tortured for information with Venti from Genshin impact [on hold]
Day 19: "I'll take one final step, all you have to do is make me" with Ningguang from Genshin impact [on hold]
Day 20: "You will regret touching them"/found family with Siblings!Bennet, Razor and Fischl from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 21: "Don't move" with Kazuha from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 22: "Watch out!" with Neuvillette from Genshin impact [in prohress]
Day 23: "Who's there?" with Childe from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 24: Neglect with Aether from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 25: "They're not breathing!" with Cyno from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 26: "You look awful" with sibling!Chongyun from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 27: "Let me see" with Xiao from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 28: "You'll have to go through me" with Lynette from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 29: "I only sink deeper the deeper I think" with Baizhu from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 30: "It's ok to say 'I'm not ok'" with Lyney from Genshin impact [in progress]
Day 31: "Take it easy" with Aether from Genshin impact [in progress]
If there are prompts you want to see with certain characters send a request and ill write something for them and add it to the masterlist<3
masterlist will be updated as I make the posts!
last update: 14th of october 2023, 10:53pm (AEST)
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captainsophiestark · 1 year ago
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The Curse of the Sun and the Moon
Klaus Mikaelson x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2023!
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals
Day 7 Prompt: "Do you recognize this?"
Summary: Klaus' SO is writing their doctoral dissertation on cross-culture myths. Much to their irritation, Klaus knows a thing or two about those.
Word Count: 1,877
Category: Humor, Fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst?
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"Love? Hello, can you hear me?"
Slowly, I turned my head away from the paper in front of me, still not taking my eyes off the drawings. A hand waved in front of my face too, but I ignored it.
"What do you want, Nik?" I muttered, only half paying attention to him.
"I want to know you haven't gone into a coma," he whined, flopping down into the chair next to me. I cracked the tiniest smile, but didn't let my train of thought wander from the work in front of me.
"I haven't gone into a coma," I repeated. I didn't say anything else after that and neither did Nik for a moment, until he sighed.
"You must understand why I'm concerned when you respond to my questions like you're in a trance."
I sighed, making a last note before finally looking up at Nik with a tired smile.
"I'm sorry, babe. I know I've been pretty wrapped up in all this lately, but I'm writing a doctoral dissertation in folklore and mythology. I've kinda got my hands full, and if I don't put in the hours to get this done right, it's all going to be for nothing."
Nik rolled his eyes dramatically before fixing me with a look.
"You know, if you just became a vampire with me, you wouldn't have to worry about things like school and work anymore."
I narrowed my eyes. "If I ever make the decision to become a vampire with you, all I'm going to do is go back to college for more degrees and studying. I love doing this, even if it makes me want to walk into the ocean sometimes. All eternity is going to do is enable me to throw any kind of practical job application for my studies out the window."
Nik sighed heavily, but he had a smile on his face all the same.
"I probably could've guessed that answer, couldn't I?"
"Probably."
We shared a smile, and then my attention drifted back to the paper in front of me. I stared at it for a few moments, still half-aware of Nik watching me fondly, when an idea struck like lightning.
"Wait, Nik... I just thought of something." I rushed to turn the paper around on my desk so it faced Nik instead of me. "Do you recognize this? I mean, you've been around for a thousand years. Chances are probably decent that you know something about this, right?"
Nik stared at the paper for a minute, then slowly looked up at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"What did you say you're doing your dissertation on again?"
"I'm focusing on myths that appear to transcend cultures throughout history. There's a couple examples of stories and legends that exist in basically the same form in cultures that had no contact. This one, usually referred to as something along the lines of 'the curse of and the sun and the moon', is the main one I've decided to focus on. So... any chance you can tell me anything about it?"
Nik's tiny smile turned into a full on grin, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at me. My heart leapt.
"Oh my gosh, you totally know something! Tell me, I can't wait. I'm gonna have to find some sources other than you if I want to put it in my paper, but-"
"This is mine, love," he said. I stared at him, trying to process what his words meant, but I came up empty-handed.
"What do you mean? Is this copy of the myth yours?"
"In a way."
Nik looked back down at the illustration depicting the curse, this one of Aztec origin. It was my favorite of the versions I'd found, although the same curse had also appeared in Roman scrolls and a half-dozen other cultures from around the world. He ran his finger over the lines of the drawing fondly.
"I drew this."
My mouth dropped open, and I looked quickly between Nik, the drawing, and back again.
"What... what do you mean you drew this? This is an Aztec myth from the 13th century-" I stopped short as my mind finally caught up. "...which I guess you were alive for..."
Nik smiled and kicked back in his chair, ankles crossed and a proud expression on his face. I just stared at him in shock.
"There is no such thing as the Curse of the Sun and the Moon, love," he said. "The real thing is the Hybrid curse, placed on me. A long time ago, Elijah and I planted this myth in cultures all over the world to get every single werewolf and vampire in the world looking for the components I needed to break my own curse. And it worked."
Nik finished his explanation with a smirk, but I didn't react. I just kept staring at him, my brain going through the equivalent of a computer's blue screen of death. This could not be possible.
"Hold on a second," I said, holding up a hand to stop my own swirling thoughts before looking at Nik again. "Let me get this straight. You drew this ancient Aztec drawing I have on my desk right now?"
"Yes."
"And you created the Roman scrolls I found that kick-started this project?"
"I did."
"And you completely made up the myth of the Curse and the Sun of the Moon, then did the ancient equivalent of editing it into a bunch of wikipedia articles to make everyone believe it was real, all so other werewolves and vampires would do the work of finding things you needed for you?"
"That's right."
"So this curse, this myth that permeates a dozen different, separate cultures, the cornerstone of my dissertation... is just a lie you made up a long time ago, that nobody ever disproved because you're just so fucking old you could create mythology at the same time that these ancient cultures actually existed?"
"Exactly."
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. Then, my eyes snapped open, and I snatched up a scroll from the top of my desk and hucked it at my boyfriend.
"Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME NIK?" I cried, shooting out of my seat. Nik looked a little shocked, partly because the scroll had hit him smack in the face and then partly because I never got this kind of mad at him. "You can't just fake historical documents to serve your own purposes!"
"Technically, I didn't fake any historical documents. I made them at the same time in history that they're supposed to be from."
"DOESN'T COUNT! My whole dissertation is about examining the phenomena of cultures that had no interactions somehow telling the same stories. There's all kind of examples of it, but this was going to be my ace in the hole, and now I can't use it!"
"Sure you can," Nik said, at last standing from the chair. He was smart enough not to walk towards me, but I hurled a pillow from my chair at him anyway.
"No, I can't! What am I gonna say? Oh, well you see, all these different cultures had the same mythology without talking to each other because my boyfriend is a motherfucker who lied through his teeth to manipulate people, and he's old enough that he completely got away with it!"
Nik shrugged. "Sounds good to me."
"ARGH! I can't believe you- Oh my God."
"What?"
"The stupid fucking vampire myth was going to be another example supporting my dissertation. But that's gone now too. 'Oh, why do all these cultures have the same mythology about a curse and blood-drinking creatures who stalk the night?' Well that's simple, professors! It's because my boyfriend, one of those blood-drinkers, just kept showing up to plant a bullshit story and got other myths written about him in the process!"
"I'm still not seeing the problem, love, that sounds like an excellent presentation."
"NIKLAUS MIKAELSON! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
I rushed to close the distance between us, smacking him in the chest and then continuing to whack him in the shoulders, arms, and chest again.
"You. Can't. Just. Make. Up. Mythology. That. Influences. History. Forever. For KICKS!" I shouted, punctuating each word with a hit. Nik just watched me, not moving even half an inch from the force of my shoves, watching me rage with a small smile on his face.
"I've never seen you like this before, love," he said, his voice silky and low. It only made me want to hit him more. "I quite like it."
"UGH!" I shouted, turning away from Nik all the same. I stared at the desk, my mind finally getting into the later stages of processing. I'd have to completely ditch all this work. "Nik, this is the worst thing you've ever done. And I've dated you long enough to know about the bad things you've done. Holy shit, I'm going to have to ditch so much of this work. I'm going to have to completely change my topic, all because you're fucking ancient and a good artist and a better liar."
After a second, I felt Nik's arms slowly, gently wrap around me from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling into my hair. Part of me still wanted to hit him, but not enough of me to actually do it.
"I'm sorry, love," he said, voice low and sweet. "Tell me what I can do to make it better."
I huffed a sigh through my nose. "You can tell me where Elijah is. He's a part of this too, I need to kill him next."
Nik chuckled, pulling me tighter to him. I relaxed a little bit into him.
"How about we start with a movie marathon of your choice, all of your favorite junk food, and I dagger any of my siblings who try to disturb you while you're working next week?"
I paused, thinking, dragging out the moment with a little hum. Nik kissed my cheek, slowly moving further along and down towards my neck, and after another minute I sighed.
"Fine. I guess we can start with relaxation and peace. But I am not getting over this any time soon. And I'm still going to attack Elijah the next time I see him."
"It's a deal."
"Of all the things I thought might be a challenge about dating a vampire, I never could've predicted 'destroys my doctoral dissertation by secretly being the subject of my dissertation'."
Nik snorted a little laugh in my ear. "And I never would've thought this would be the closest we came to a deal-braker for you, what with all the murdering I've done."
"I might not be able to claim the high ground on that front much longer."
I twisted around to look pointedly at Nik, but he just smiled right back at me. Wisely, he used his vampire speed to whisk me out of the room before I could look at my ruined dissertation again. This situation was absolutely, completely ridiculous, and I knew I'd probably still be processing for the next few decades. But I loved Nik and the rest of these stupid, lying, ridiculous, ancient vampires, and I'd keep loving them no matter what. Even if I wanted to kill them, sometimes, too.
****************
TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21
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