#…I’d give him encouragement in a heartbeat

[void-tiger]

Sometimes you imagine the same support you’ve given that seems to be returned now IRL, take a deep breath, and try to press on.

[flwrstqr]

✶ ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN YOU SAY "MARRY ME" RANDOMLY

엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ! r ・ 12OO fluff established relationship cw ・kisses, petnames (՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! ── click

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 (이희승)

you’re sitting on the couch, your head resting on heeseung’s shoulder, when you suddenly look up at him, a playful smile on your lips. “marry me,” you say, half-joking but with a hint of sincerity. heeseung’s eyes widen for a split second before he breaks into that adorable smile you love so much. “right now?” he teases, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “of course, baby. just give me the time and place.” you giggle, feeling your heart flutter as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. “i’m serious,” you mumble against his chest, and he lifts your chin to kiss your lips this time. “i know, my love,” he whispers, his voice soft, “and i’d say yes every time.”

rest of the members below !!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 (박종성)

you’re lying in bed with jay, his arm wrapped around you, when you suddenly blurt out, “marry me.” he pauses, his eyes searching yours as if to see if you’re serious. “are you proposing to me right now?” he asks, a grin slowly spreading across his face. you nod, biting your lip with a small growing on your face. he leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft kiss before whispering, “i’d marry you in a heartbeat, angel.” his words make your heart race, and you can’t help but smile as he pulls you closer, his thumb gently tracing circles on your skin. “i love you, you know that?” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “and i’ll be ready whenever you are.”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (심재윤)

you’re sitting on the edge of the bed with jake, playfully nudging his shoulder when you suddenly say, “marry me.” his eyes widen for a split second before a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “dang it, i was gonna say it first,” he teases, shaking his head in mock frustration. you giggle, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “too slow, baby,” you reply. he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. “fine, you win,” he murmurs, kissing the tip of your nose. “but only because i love you,” he adds, his tone light and playful.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 (박성훈)

you’re lying on the couch with sunghoon, your head resting on his chest when you suddenly whisper, “marry me.” he freezes, eyes widening as he sits up slightly, his mind racing. “wait, so where and when? but then how many people would we invite? and what about—” you can’t help but giggle at his seriousness, interrupting him with a soft kiss on the cheek. “baby, it’s just a joke,” you say, smiling at his adorable overthinking. he blinks, processing your words, then relaxes, a shy smile forming on his lips. “oh, well, i was gonna say yes to that proposal—” before he can finish, you quickly add, “never mind, i’m marrying you"

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 (김선우)

ou suddenly blurt out, “marry me, sunoo.” his eyes widen in surprise before he breaks into the softest smile. “what?” he laughs, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. you grab his hand, squeezing it gently, “i mean it, marry me.” he looks at you with those eyes as he leans in closer, his nose brushing yours. “you’re so random, baby,” he whispers, pressing a sweet kiss on your lips. “but yes, i’ll marry you,” he adds, kissing you again, longer this time. his lips taste like strawberries, and you giggle against his mouth. “my forever love,” he murmurs between kisses, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight like he never wants to let go. “let’s stay like this forever, yeah?” he says softly, planting a kiss on your forehead

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 (양정원)

you’re cuddled up with jungwon when you suddenly say, “marry me, wonnie.” he looks at you, surprised, then bursts into a soft laugh, his dimples showing. “what?” he teases, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes. you pout playfully, “i’m serious! marry me!” he grins and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. “well, nice timing,” he says, opening it to reveal a beautiful ring. now you’re the one who’s shocked, eyes wide as he slips it onto your ring finger. “i was gonna ask you,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you softly. “you beat me to it, my love,” he chuckles against your lips, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “so, is that a yes?” he asks, nuzzling your nose. you nod, still in disbelief, “yes, a million times yes,” you whisper back, kissing him 

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 (西村力)

you suddenly say, “marry me, riki.” his eyes widen in shock, and he looks at you. “just because i turned 18 doesn’t mean you can propose to me now,” he says, a teasing smirk on his lips. you roll your eyes, laughing. “it’s a joke, ki—” but before you can finish, he interrupts, pouting a little. “aww, i wanted it to be real so i could actually say yes.” your jaw drops, and you playfully shove him. “i hate you,” you grumble, but the warmth in your voice betrays you. he just chuckles, pulling you close and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “too late, you’re stuck with me forever now,” he whispers, his nose brushing against yours

[pickingupmymercedes]

It's not just a win - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

The 104th win Special - He's bloody done it ❤️

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities.

Also, wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +2K

a/n: Don't have anything to say really. I don't even think this gets close to putting to paper what it meant. To him. To us. But I also think it's going to take time for us to really understand how much this win meant.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

Y/n stirred gently in the early morning light, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the slits on the window of the motorhome. She blinked sleepily, her eyes slowly adjusting to the soft, golden hues that bathed the room.

The warmth from the arms around her brought a lazy smile to her lips, and as she turned, she saw Lewis lying awake, staring at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Good morning, GP winner" she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep.

Lewis turned his head towards her, a content smile capturing his features as he returned from whatever world had been occupying his mind. "Good morning, love" he replied softly.

Y/n scooted closer, her arm draping over his chest, her head resting on his shoulder as he embraced her tight. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat pick up as she looked back up at him " Wanna debrief?" her voice gentle and inviting.

Lewis sighed, his eyes gazing into hers, searching for the right words. "Just...thinking about everything," he admitted. "Yesterday was...a lot."

Y/n nodded, encouraging him to continue. She knew that he needed this, a chance to make sense of his emotions out loud.

"There were moments in the past few years when I doubted myself," he began, a low rumble in his chest. "That maybe I couldn’t do it anymore. That I should have retired. It felt like I would never win again. But then...yesterday."

"I thought I had healed from 2021" Lewis admitted for the first time to her, his voice low and hesitant. "I know I always told everyone I was through. And maybe I had tried to convince myself I had. But standing on that podium yesterday… I still have so much to give."

He paused, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "I’m not one to accept love easily… you know that” he almost whispered shaking his head a bit as you lowly chuckled “But these past years… the energy and support people have given me. I couldn’t… I can’t let that go unnoticed.”

Y/n traced small circles on his chest, her touch soothing and grounding. "What makes you think that?" she asked softly.

"I kept catching myself thinking about Abu Dhabi," his voice barely above a whisper. "About how close… how everything just...slipped away. It felt like...like I had failed. Like I had let everyone down." He sighed, a deep, shuddering breath. "I just...I needed this. I needed to win. To prove to myself that I still can."

Y/n tightened her embrace, her heart aching for him. "You deserve every bit of love you receive, Lew." Her hand going to trace the lines of his cheeks where his beard started. “And I’m sure people don’t expect anything more than the best you can do. And I know you always try and give your best.

Lewis nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know. I know. But I could always fight on track those who doubted... and then when I couldn’t…" he shook his head looking away. “Finally winning again. At home, with everyone there, my mom, my dad, my family. You. It was...overwhelming. I sobbed when I got out of the car. I couldn't help it. It was like everything I’d been holding in just poured out because I knew I had proven myself. That I had shown everyone what you all believed in... even when I doubted it"

Y/n sat up a bit to reach for his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "There will always be challenges, always be obstacles. But you’ve proven time and time again that you can overcome them. You have an incredible strength, Lewis. And you don’t have to face them all alone. I’m here. Your family is here. Your team is here. And we’re always going to believe in you." she said honestly.

Lewis smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes "It felt like...like a new beginning. Like maybe, just maybe, I’m finally starting to heal." he said softly.

"It's not just a win, is it?"

He looked at her, his eyes glistening with tears. "No" he sighed; his voice thick with emotion. "It's...closure? Proof that I'm not finished. Not just yet."

Y/n agreed. "You can finally let go of the past now … or at least put it in its place."

He nodded, a sense of peace settling over him. "Thank you. For everything. For being here, for believing in me."

"Always," she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I’ll always be here." she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

Lewis angled his head slightly, meeting her lips with his own. The kiss was tender at first, a sweet affirmation to her, but it quickly deepened. His hand found its way to her hair, tangling in the soft strands as he pulled her closer.

Y/n responded eagerly, her hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. She pressed her body to his side, savoring the feel of his warmth and his muscles.

The kisses grew frantic and soon they were wrapped up in each other, lost in the moment.

Y/n felt Lewis's hand slip under the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin. She arched against him.

When she felt his hand move lower, sliding towards the waistband of her underwear, she pulled back slightly, breathless. "Do we have time?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper. "You’re supposed to head to the factory this morning."

Lewis looked at her through hooded dark eyes "They can wait" his voice rough with desire. "I feel like celebrating a bit more." Y/n smiled, a slow, sensual curve of her lips, and leaned in to capture his mouth in another searing kiss.

But just as their lips met again, a sudden bark from the foot of the bed pulled them back to reality. They both glanced down to see Roscoe looking rather annoyed and impatient. His expressive eyes, almost accusing, seemed to say "Are you two quite finished?"

Lewis chuckled, the sound vibrating through Y/n’s chest. "Looks like someone needs to go to the bathroom" he said with a grin, his fingers gently brushing Y/n’s cheek.

Y/n laughed softly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before sitting up. "Duty calls, go one dad, we’ll resume after" her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Lewis gave her a playful nudge before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Alright, buddy, let’s get you sorted" he said, his tone affectionate as he leaned down to give the bulldog a scratch behind the ears.

When he returned the sounds of running water drew his attention, and he made his way to the bathroom, a soft smile on his lips.

He found Y/n in the shower, the steam curling around her, obscuring his view. And as the mist cleared, he could see her silhouette through the glass door, the water cascading over her body. She glanced back through the glass, catching him watching her.

"Enjoying the view?" she asked teasingly, her voice thick with amusement.

Lewis chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Very much," he replied, his voice low and warm. Y/n turned to slide open the box door, her expression softening. "Care to join me?"

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Quickly shedding his clothes, he stepped into the shower, the hot water immediately welcoming him.

They stood there for a moment, letting the water pour over them, washing away the remnants of the previous day.

He was the first to reach out, his fingers gently trailing along Y/n’s arm, marveling at her. She almost felt exposed at his gaze, but the way his eyes held her captivated had her forget everything but him.

She stepped closer until their bodies were pressed together and he dipped his head, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, their movements slow and deliberate. A rhythm that was achingly familiar although their hands explored each other’s bodies like they had to reach every bit of skin they were yet to memorize.

Y/n’s fingers traced the lines of his muscles, her touch light and loving. Lewis mirrored her actions, his hands caressing her curves, his touch both soothing and electrifying.

The water continued to cascade over them, a warm, comforting presence that seemed to heighten every sensation. Y/n tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering shut as Lewis kissed a path down her neck, his lips leaving a trail of electricity.

"I love you " she breathed, her hands tangling in his loose braids as she pulled him closer.

"I love you" he whispered back against her skin; his voice filled with emotion.

They lost themselves in each other, the world outside the shower fading into insignificance. The water poured over them, mingling with the soft sighs and whispers that filled the small space.

When Lewis’s hands found Y/n’s waist, he pulled her flush against him as he kissed her deeply. She responded, her body arching into his, seeking more of his touch. They savored the moment, the feeling of being so close, so connected.

Y/n's hand slid down his chest, her fingertips tracing the hard planes of his muscles. Her touch was electric to his skin.

She reached his half-hard erection, her fingers wrapping around him with a gentle but firm grip. She began to pump him slowly, her movements teasing and deliberate. Lewis groaned softly into her mouth, both of his hand finding her waist. Her pumping combined with the hot water cascading over their bodies was almost overwhelming. He responded by pressing her against the cool tile wall, his lips never leaving hers.

With one hand still wrapped around his length, Y/n used her free hand to anchor herself against his shoulder. Lewis lifted one of her legs, creating better access to her core. He positioned himself at her entrance, his eyes locking onto hers.

"You ready?" he whispered, his voice a low rumble.

Y/n nodded; her pupils wildly dilated. "Yeah" she breathed.

Lewis kissed her deeply, his tongue tangling with hers to muffle her moans as he slowly entered her. The sensation was almost too much, her walls stretching to accommodate him. He paused, holding himself still to regain control, feeling her warmth envelop him.

She gasped into his mouth, her breath hitching as he filled her completely. He waited a moment, allowing her to adjust, before he began to move. Each thrust was slow and measured, his lips still pressed against hers to keep their sounds low to possible bypassers around the motorhomes.

Y/n's nails dug into his shoulders as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her body arching to meet his movements. She bit down gently on the soft spot where his neck met his collarbone, making him wince in pain and pleasure.

The rhythm between them became more urgent, their need for each other driving them on. Lewis groaned softly, his grip on her tightening as he lifted her other leg, supporting her entirely against the wall.

The change in angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, eliciting a moan from Y/n that he quickly swallowed with another kiss.

As he felt her walls start to flutter, he pulled out to turn her in his embrace, her back pressing against his chest as she moaned in protest. He entered her from behind, the new position allowing him to reach even deeper.

One of his hands slid around to hold her close by her lower abdomen, pressing into the spot where he could feel himself pushing into her.

Y/n's head fell back against his shoulder, her moans growing louder despite their attempts to stay quiet. Lewis kissed along her neck, his other hand moving down to flicker at her clit with precise, deliberate movements.

"I'm so close" she whimpered, her body trembling.

Lewis's own control was slipping, the sensation of her tight around him driving him closer to his own orgasm "Let go" he whispered against her ear. "I've got you."

With a final thrust, he felt her walls clench around him as she saw white. Her body convulsed; her cries muffled by how she bit on the skin of his neck, her head hanging on his shoulders. The mix of her walls and the biting of his skin triggered his own release, a wave that left him shaking.

They held each other close when he pulled out and turned her on his arms, his forehead resting against hers. "Hi there gorgeous" he murmured when she opened her eyes to look at him, his breath still coming in ragged gasps.

Y/n smiled; her eyes glimmering with satisfaction. "You’re handsome too" she joked, chuckling softly.

They stayed like that for a few moments longer, savoring the intimacy of the moment and the water falling on them. Finally, Y/n reached out and turned off the shower, the sudden silence almost deafening after the steady sound of running water.

Lewis grabbed a towel, wrapping it around Y/n before pulling her into his arms. "I think that’s the best way to start the day," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her damp hair.

Y/n leaned into him, her heart swelling with love. "Couldn’t agree more. Now go, they’re waiting for their champion."

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[moonstruckme]

tasm peter parker or james potter x anxious ! reader ??? i literally get so stressed and anxious at night that my heart starts beating rapidly and i can’t do anything let alone sleep 😭😭😭😭 wishing that i wasn’t all alone in this and had some company, but we can imagine ! 😭

Thank for requesting lovely

cw: symptoms of anxiety

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 628 words

Peter’s hand stopped moving on your back a while ago. It now lays flat just below your left shoulder blade. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat from back there. 

“Wanna try some more breaths?” he asks. His voice is soft with drowsiness. 

You inhale slowly, mostly in the hopes that your boyfriend will think you’re calming and he’ll fall asleep. But really, the achey, dissatisfying stretch of your lungs only makes you feel your thundering heartbeat more acutely. Every time you realize how much it hurts, it’s like an invisible boa constrictor wraps tighter around your chest. 

Peter starts rubbing your back again. 

“I don’t think this is sustainable,” you murmur. “You should go to sleep.” 

“What, and leave you by yourself?” he scoffs lightly. Your stomach sinks. If he was approaching sleep, you’ve brought him back. “Not a chance. But if you think it’s not working, we could watch a movie or something.” 

“No,” you say, though it does sound nice. The past couple of nights, you and Peter have cuddled up on the couch with a movie, and when you eventually get tired enough to fall asleep he brings you to bed. It works great for you; the catch is that then he’s the one staying up. 

It’s something about being in your bed, you think. It’s not an inherently unrelaxing place, but when you get into bed at night, the lights off and your home silent, suddenly dread is gripping you like a vice. Your thoughts go where you can’t stop them—you’re hardly quick enough to keep up at all—and before you know what’s happened your heart’s rattling your ribcage like it wants out and your eyes are glossy wet. 

“I don’t think it’s not working,” you tell him now, trying not to sound too hopeless, “I just don’t think it’s realistic for you to spend every night putting me to sleep like an infant.” 

Peter huffs a laugh. “C’mon, don’t be so fussy,” he teases. You pull back a little just so you can glare at him through the darkness. You’re pretty sure he can see you with that super vision of his, yet he chooses to ignore it. “You still wanna be my baby, right?” 

You try to groan, but a little bit of laugh makes it through. “Gross. Not like that.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Your boyfriend chuckles, encouraging you to do the same. Though it’s a begrudging sound, it does loosen something in your chest ever so slightly. “But hey, I don’t mind staying up with you. The anxiety is around going to sleep, right?” 

You hum. 

“Then we’ll give you some new feelings around going to sleep.” Peter leans forward, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. He says it like it’s easy. Like it’s a foregone conclusion, and even if it’s not he’ll just start trying the next thing. “We can do this. I’d rather be awake with you than asleep without you anyways.” 

You burrow in close to his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, steady and about twice as slow as yours. “That sounds like a cheesy line you got from a romcom,” you say, your voice inlaid with fondness. 

“Yeah, Sleepless in Seattle.” 

“Really?”

“Nope. Never seen it.” Peter gives your shoulder a firm scrub, and you can practically sense his smile as he lays another kiss on your head. “But it makes what we’re doing seem pretty romantic, huh?” 

If you asked the people who directed those movies, they’d probably be able to think of a million more romantic things you could be doing with your boyfriend than laying still in bed, whispering to each other and trying to outlast frantic thoughts. But to you, right now, it does seem pretty good. 

[alisonsfics]

his peace

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: when carmy meets you at an al-anon meeting, he’s surprised why how safe he feels with you immediately. but with that comes the anxiety of scaring you away.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: carmy and the reader meet at an al-anon meeting, but no actual discussion of sensitive topics

Carmy took yet another deep breath. He could hear his heartbeat pounding. He wiped his sweaty palms off on his jeans. He saw someone start walking down the hallway towards him. They gave him a small sympathetic smile, noticing his obvious nervousness.

He tried to take more breaths, as though it would give him a fresh perspective and a boost of confidence.

He ran his hand through his hair and reminded himself why he was there. Before he lost his courage, he walked past the “Al-Anon Meeting Today at 2pm” sign and in the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief once he entered the room. He’d been dreading the inside of this room. He was expecting to be met with cold stares and judgmental glances. Instead, the room seemed peaceful, and no one even seemed to notice him.

He picked a spot along the back wall and stood there. He casually leaned back against the wall, wanting to observe the meeting today instead of participate.

You were across the room. You were at the “snack” table that was topped with bottles of water and little packaged snacks, along with fliers full of resources like hotlines and therapist offices.

You caught a glimpse of the man lurking in the back of the room. You noticed the way his eyes avoided your gaze and focused on the floor.

You slowly walked over towards him. Everyone else was having side conversations before the meeting started. He was the only one who was alone.

You’d been coming to these meetings for a while, but you remembered how alone you felt at your first one. You didn’t want him to feel like that.

He only looked up at you once you were standing a few feet in front of him. He gave you a quick anxious smile. He could feel his palms start to sweat again. “Am I not allowed to just watch? This is my first time. I don’t know how these things go.” He rambled, nervously.

“No no no, feel free. It’s totally up to you. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.” You said, holding out your hand to him. His eyes darted to your hand, which he quickly grabbed and gave a firm shake.

“I’m Carmen. My friends call me Carmy though. It’s nice to meet you.” He said, smiling at you. He didn’t know why, but he felt lighter. Like some of the pressure had been taken off. Surviving this meeting felt like less of a big deal when he looked into your eyes.

His thoughts usually operated at a thousand miles a minute, but they seemed to still in your presence.

“I remember how anxious I was at my first meeting. I’m not trying to force you to do anything. You do whatever feels right. But, nothing bad will happen if you come sit with us. I know you probably have all those worst case scenarios in your head right now, but I promise none of them are going to happen.” You tried to assure him as best as you could.

Carmy slowly nodded his head, thinking about what you said. He considered it more than he thought he would. It sounded less scary when you talked about it.

“I’m just not really ready to share or anything yet. I think I’d rather just stay back here and watch.” He told you, hesitantly. The thought of having to talk to a room of strangers about his dead brother was almost enough to paralyze Carmy.

“You can come and just listen, if you want. No one will force you to share. Again, absolutely no pressure, but I’ll save you a seat and leave it up to you.” You said, giving him a small smile and heading towards the circle of chairs.

Carmy watched as you walked away. Something about you made Carmy feel calm. You were encouraging enough that he felt like he could do anything.

He watched you for a few minutes. You were sat down and quietly talking to two other people next to you. Your warm smile made him feel optimistic. He was already looking forward to seeing you once a week.

You looked up and noticed he was watching you. He softly smiled at you. You went back to your conversation, not wanting to pressure him in any way by staring.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him walk up to the chair and sit beside you. You looked over at him and gave him an encouraging smile. You knew how massive a small step like that could feel.

You continued to check in with him throughout the meeting. After each person took their turn sharing, you’d look over at Carmy to make sure he was alright. You felt strangely protective over him, considering you’d just met.

After the meeting, he pulled you to the side. “Thank you for encouraging me today. I’ve been really worried about this meeting, but you helped me feel a lot more comfortable.” He said, genuinely. There was a certain sparkle in his eye that he didn’t even know was there. He felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.

“Of course. I’m glad I was able to help. I’m always here to talk, if you want.” You told him. You were met with a grateful nod.

“Do you maybe want to go get lunch? You’re just really easy to talk to.” He asked you. All of a sudden, you had butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t hide your smile. “I’d love to.” You told him.

You both walked through the city talking about your lives. You both talked about why you went to Al-Anon meetings. You were one of the first people Carmy told about the Michael stuff.

It became a weekly tradition. Every week you both would sit side by side and then go out to lunch afterwards. By the third meeting, you’d gotten Carmy out of his shell enough to share with the group for the first time.

Carmy was trying really hard to appreciate how good it was with you. Especially since he knew he had a tendency to expect bad things to happen. It also meant he was scared of screwing it up.

So, he kept it separate. You and his life at The Beef were two completely different spaces in his head. You were peace, and The Beef was chaos. You were stress relief, and The Beef was stress-inducing.

That worked fine until he was bickering with Richie at the cash register, as usual, and he saw you walk in the front door.

Realizing it was you, Carmy froze. He’d forgotten all about the argument with Richie, and his eyes were glued on you.

You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of red. Carmy was mortified that you were seeing this side of his life. The side that involved screaming and chaos and arguments.

“Not right now, Richie,” Carmy mumbled, pushing past Richie and walking into the kitchen. Carmy’s thoughts started racing. He walked past Sydney and Marcus and Tina as they yelled different questions at him.

His mind was on one thing now. He marched towards the office after he spotted Natalie sitting at the desk. He needed to talk to someone about you, finally.

He barged into the office and closed the door behind him. The yelling of the kitchen was slightly muffled, blending in with the thoughts bouncing around his head.

“Carm, what’s wrong?” Nat asked, looking up and seeing her brother out of breath. Carmy immediately sat down on the couch and put his head into his hands.

He could feel himself spiraling and was trying to stop it before it got too far. All his emotions were bubbling to the surface. He truly thought he was going to scare you away.

“Carm, seriously, what’s going on? I’m getting worried.” Nat repeated.

He looked up from the floor, and she could see the panic in his eyes. “I went to a meeting. And I met this girl. She’s really been helping me. I just feel so calm when I’m with her.” He said. Nat noticed a glint in his eye when he talked about you.

“Carm, that’s great. I’m really proud of you. I know it took a lot for you to go. So, what’s wrong?” She asked, sitting beside him. She held onto his hand, encouraging him to explain.

“She’s umm…outside right now. I didn’t tell her about this place, but she just walked in.” He mumbled, glancing back towards the closed door. Nat slowly nodded, trying to piece together what he was so worried about.

“What’s so bad about that?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. Carmy shrugged. He wasn’t quite able to explain why he had this pit in his stomach.

“She’s the one thing in my life that just feels pure and completely separate from all the shit here. I haven’t let her see this side of me, and I really like her, Sugar. But if she sees this side of me, she’ll know how fucked up I am.” He said. His eyes were desperate. He was begging Nat for a solution. He needed to know what to do.

She pulled Carmy into a hug, rubbing his back slowly. “She sounds really good for you, Bear. I think you should tell her how you feel. She’s not gonna run away because you’re complicated. Everybody’s complicated. It’s just life. And if she makes your life better, you should go for it.” She said, giving Carmy the perfect sisterly advice.

“You really think so?” Carmy said, looking back towards the door. She just nodded and patted Carmy on the back. He slowly stood up from the couch.

Deep down he knew Nat was right, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared out of his mind.

He walked back through the kitchen, ignoring the chaos surrounding him as he walked towards you. As long as he stayed focused on you, he could drown out all the chaos.

He walked back into the front of the restaurant. You weren’t in line anymore. His eyes searched around for you until he saw you sitting at a small table in the corner.

Richie was still at the cash register taking another customer’s order. “I’m sorry, cousin. We can talk later.” Carmy said, patting Richie’s shoulder as he walked by. He knew if he wanted less chaos in his life, it would take a lot of effort on his part.

He walked over to where you were sitting. When you looked up at him, you noticed his hesitant smile. “Please, sit,” you said, gesturing towards the seat in front of you. He quickly nodded and then sat down.

“Hey, umm, I’m sorry that I kinda ran away earlier. I was just surprised to see you here.” He said, sheepishly. He scratched the back of his neck. You felt a small smile creep on your face. Bashful was a cute look on Carmy.

“It’s totally fine. I was shocked to see you too. I didn’t know you worked at a restaurant.” You said, smiling at him. He quickly looked up to meet your eyes and then shook his head. “I actually own the restaurant. This was Mikey’s before he died, and he left it to me.” He told you.

You noticed how happy he was when he was talking about his brother. Carmy was still bracing for you to storm out the door, and he didn’t even know why.

It was probably because in his life, good things never lasted.

Until you.

He felt a little bit of imposter syndrome with you. Like he’d been pretending to be this person with his life put together. And now, you were seeing what his life really looked like.

“I think that’s really beautiful, Carmy. You know, you running this place to honor your brother. I bet he’d be really proud of you.” You said. You gently reached across the table and let your hand rest on top of his. He quickly looked between you and your hand on his.

“Really? You don’t like…think this place is a total shit hole? With all the screaming and everything. Everything here is fuckin’ chaos.” He said, chuckling to himself. Self doubt had always been something that haunted Carmy.

You quickly shook your head, assuring him. “Just because it’s a little messy doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful. Nothing’s ever tied up neatly in a bow. Especially not when you’re dealing with family. I think it just means you care, not that you’re doing a bad job.” You said, running your thumb along the back of his hand.

He could hear his heart beating as he looked at you. Your hand touching his had goosebumps running up his arm. And when you looked at him with that smile, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Hey, do you maybe wanna— I uhhh… nevermind, I’m probably reading this wrong.” He said, quickly standing up from the table and starting to walk away.

You giggled to yourself at his shyness. You stood up and grabbed his hand to stop him. He spun around to face you, with hope in his eyes. Because you had stopped him from leaving, which had to be a good sign, right?

You tugged him closer to you. He could feel his eyes go wide. He was trying to read every little part of your expression. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His stomach did a flip. He noticed how the warmth lingered on his cheek.

“Do you want to go get dinner sometime?” You asked, finishing his question for him. His shocked expression turned into a smile. “I would umm— definitely, I would really like that.” He said, fumbling through his words.

Something about you made Carmy forget how to speak. “You’re cute when you’re blushing.” You said, cocking your head to the side and admiring him.

One of his hands flew up to cover his cheeks. Carmy hadn’t realized he was so easy to read. “No no, I’m not blushing. It’s just uhhh— from the cold, y’know,” he said, failing to convince you.

You giggled to yourself. The sound was angelic to Carmy and made his stomach do somersaults. “We’re inside though.” You said, smirking at him as he was caught in his excuse.

“Oh, yeah, would you look at that,” he said, pretending to be shocked. You jokingly rolled your eyes at him. He stepped forward, cupping your cheek and kissed you softly. You rested your hands on his sides as his lips softly moved against yours.

You both pulled away with giant smiles on your faces. “I really like you.” He admitted, interlacing his fingers with yours. You felt your smile grow even wider. “Likewise,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I want to introduce you to someone.” He said, leading you back to the office to introduce you to Sugar.

It seemed like a weird choice, but for Carmy, it was him bridging his two lives together. He didn’t want to keep them separate anymore. He wanted you to be in his life, his real life, not the life he pretended to have.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @mattsfavbigtitties @the-sylver-dragon @0-n-1-x @khxna

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[lolathestoryteller]

fatherly duties (April 25th prompt; Thrill) @jilymicrofics

“You’re staring, Lil.”

Lily startles, nearly knocking James off his feet as she spins around to face him.

“Woah,” he breathes, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. “Just me.”

Lily frowns up at him, though she can’t completely hide the slight blush that warms her cheeks, noticing his bemused expression. “I wasn’t staring James, I was just—“

“Staring. Yeah.” James interrupts cheekily, giving her his typical lopsided grin.

“Checking.” Lily corrects him, crossing her arms. “I was just checking if he’s alright.”

James’s smirk softens at that, and is replaced by an understanding smile. “Yeah.” he says quietly, looking past her at the door to Harry’s bedroom, which stands slightly ajar. “I was about to do that, though. One of my fatherly duties.”

Lily can’t help but chuckle at his feigned displeased frown. “Oh, is it now?” she asks amusedly. “And what else, may I ask, would those fatherly duties include?”

James presses a finger to his chin, thinking. “Well…there’s telling horribly flat jokes, for one.” he muses, smirking slightly at Lily’s eye roll.

“Hm, they’re called Dad jokes, I think.” she replies, acting as though this conversation was indeed very serious.

James can hardly hold back a laugh. “Yes, yes, exactly those.” he agrees. “Oh! and there’s also, teaching him all the hidden ways around Hogwarts and—“

Lily slaps his chest. “James Potter!” she hisses quietly. “He’s gotten into more than enough trouble on his own, he definitely doesn’t need your encouragement.”

“Alright, alright.” James sighs, but in all honesty, he does agree with Lily. Hearing about Harry‘s many previous escapes has had them both feeling less than thrilled, to say the least.

“Well, I’ve got another one then,” he adds, walking up closer to the door to peak inside the moon lit room — the room that once belonged to Sirius and now hosts his son. “Protecting him, with my life.”

Lily feels her chest constricting with the entirety of the statement. “With our lives.” she corrects him quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

She watches Harry’s sleeping face, and tries her best not to think of the last time they’d vowed to do that — and the last time they almost did do that. And she’d do it again, in a heartbeat.

James wraps his arm around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head.

“Merlin, I’d take a hundred curses for that kid,” he says after a minute. Then, with a breathed chuckle. “Although, you know, I’d still prefer not having to bite the grass anytime soon.”

Lily smiles weakly. “You always hated to eat your greens.”

James turns his head to look down at her, an incredulous expression on his handsome face, before he suddenly bursts out laughing. “Wow.” he snorts. “Can’t believe Prefect and Head Girl Lily Evans would ever pull a pun.”

Lily giggles despite herself, reveling in this moment of quiet solitude. “Oh, she’d never,” she replies with mocked disapproval, before her lips tug into a smile. “But Lily Potter certainly would.”

She thinks James’s smile could probably light the entire bloody house. “I love you, Mrs. Potter.” he smiles, like the love struck teenager he hasn’t been in almost seventeen years.

Lily blushes, although she reckons she really shouldn’t anymore, being in her thirties and all. “I love you too, Mr. Potter.”

A slight creak to their right makes them both turn, and Lily’s blush increases, now twinged with a bit of guilt as she’s met with the confused eyes of their son.

“Dunno what’s more worth asking about,” Harry lulls tiredly, blinking against the light in the hallway. “Why you two’ve been standing in front of my bedroom for the past half hour, or what’s gotten you to giggle on about…?”

Lily bites her lip, sparing Harry a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she replies genuinely. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“We’re just checking on you.” James adds, perhaps unnecessarily.

Lily notices the look of confusion on Harry‘s face. “Uh…right,” he replies slowly. “Checking for what?”

“To know you’re okay.” she explains gently.

Harry raises a brow, lips twitching amusedly. “I’m fine,” he chuckles. “I was asleep, you know…not much I could do that you’d have to check on.”

“It’s just a nice change,” James pipes up, clearly wanting to lighten their conversation. “You — sleeping so quietly, not scurrying around, beating your old man at quidditch.”

Harry snorts. “Yeah, well, I could still beat you, even with my eyes closed.” he retorts jokingly.

James gasps in mock appall; „In your dreams!“

Harry snickers, with that same cheeky glint in his eyes which Lily‘s seen plenty of times before, on James. “Yeah, there too.”

[e-dubbc11]

Ik the summer sleepover is long gone 🥲 But i got hit with Matt Murdock feels and I saw the angst prompt list. Feel free to ignore this!!!!!

So this is for my fave catholic hoe 🫠

"You have to let go." - Y/N's already dead and he keeps hallucinating that she's still there

or

"I give up. You won." - Y/N breaks up with Matt because he always keeps her at arms length but it reaches breaking point when Elektra comes back

Chose wisely 😭💖

I could never ignore anything you send me, my dear friend ♥️ I hope you like what I did. I went with the first one BUT your second prompt reminded me of a Matt fic I wrote awhile back called Unsung Hero, so if you’re feeling ambitious, I’ll leave it linked HERE.

Thank you for always sending me things that pop into your brain, I love them ♥️

Letting Go

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F! Reader

Warnings: Death, dealing with grief

Word Count: 1.4K-ish

Summary: You’ve been gone for awhile yet Matt still feels you everywhere he goes, he swears you’re there with him but you’re not and in order to start processing his grief, he has to say goodbye

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It hit him every time he walked into the apartment. It was here where he felt an overwhelming sense of your presence…only you weren’t there, you had been dead for 8 months now.

Reminders of you were scattered all over the apartment like stray pairs of earrings on the nightstand, a bottle of your favorite perfume, or the blanket you used to when you were quietly reading on the couch.

Not having his sight, Matt was never exactly sure what you looked like. He only had the pictures in his mind. Based on the description you had given him, he knew your eye color, your hair color, and the tone of your skin but he remembered the softness in your voice, the curves and hollows of your body, and the sound of your heartbeat as you slept soundly next to him.

Matt could never see your smile but he knew when you were smiling. He felt it tug on his heart as it stretched across your face when he did something to make you laugh or when he called you “sweetheart” but it also crushed him to taste the salt in the air if you had been crying.

He loved the smell of fresh flowers you would bring home every Friday for your date night at home but you always bought ones that didn’t have a strong scent because you didn’t want it to be too overwhelming for him. He loved how considerate you were, worrying about overloading his senses, like if the music was too loud or if cleaning products were too strongly scented.

Matt’s only wish was that he could have kept you safe, he wished he could have protected you, and more than anything he wished he wasn’t the first one to hear your heart stop beating.

Everywhere he went, he felt you with him, and he swore you were there. When Matt stopped for his morning coffee or Thai food, he had to stop himself from ordering your usual. He just couldn’t believe you were gone. You were dead and never coming back.

The guilt ate at him every day. Matt blamed himself and his nights as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen suffered because of it. “What’s the point in doing this if I couldn’t save the one person I loved the most?” He had asked himself after a particularly bad night.

Talking to Father Lantom helped but not as much as he hoped it would. Matt wanted answers that Father Lantom didn’t have. He would just tell him that “God had his reasons.” And Matt just thought he was being punished in every way possible. It was the typical Catholic guilt.

“I know you don’t wanna hear it but you know exactly what I would do, Red. I’d make sure they’d never get back up again.” Frank had said.

By asking Frank for advice, you knew Matt’s desperation was apparent as he had seriously contemplated taking their life. He knew it wouldn’t bring you back but maybe it would make him feel better knowing he avenged your death.

Maybe the hallucinations would stop, maybe he would stop hearing your voice in his head, and just maybe it would stop him from reaching for you as he was trying to fall asleep at night. The scum of Hell’s Kitchen felt his wrath every night and with every punch he landed, with every drop of blood that was spilled, he had hoped he would start to feel better but he didn’t.

And what about the tortured and unspeakable dreams where he would have to hear you cry out in pain over and over again. The heartbreak Matt felt left him miserable enough to be vulnerable whether he was awake or asleep.

At least when he was awake, he could throw himself into his work, talk to Foggy and Karen, and you would be far away from his mind. It was the alone time that left him confused, angry, and ashamed. Those feelings infiltrated his body where his heart was scorched and irregular with spasms.

“I still feel her here, Foggy! I can still smell her perfume, feel her smile against my lips, and hear her laugh. I swear she’s still here!” Said Matt, emphatically.

“But she’s not Matt, she’s gone.” Foggy had said.

You knew all of this was true because you were stuck in between worlds, you could see him. And like an angel on his shoulder you were there with him, protecting him as he was protecting his city.

As he sat perched on the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, you would reach for him, gently brushing his shoulder, and you were positive that he could tell you were there by the way his head would tilt to the side. You knew you couldn’t stay with him forever, but long enough to be able to tell him goodbye and that you were alright.

With his cheeks flushed with rage and his mouth twisted in anger, Matt left the office and headed for home even though that’s where he felt your presence the most.

He decided not to go out that night but instead he set aside the random belongings that you had left behind, held them in between his fingers, and gently inhaled the scent of your perfume one last time.

“You’re here with me now, aren’t you angel. I know you are; I’m not crazy like Foggy thinks I am.” Said Matt.

You’d give anything to be able to touch him again, to feel his days-old stubble against your cheek, or run your fingers through his soft brown hair.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling but knew you didn’t have much time so you moved in close to look at him one more time.

Matt was so handsome. You were going to miss his hazel colored eyes with the little flecks of gold like autumn leaves, the dimple on his cheek when he smiled, his soft full lips against yours, and the low gravelly tone of his voice. It always sounded so calm and soothing to you except on the night you died.

His screams could probably be heard for blocks in every direction but he was the last thing you saw before your world went dark and you were suddenly looking down at your body while Matt tried and then the paramedics tried to revive you.

After your funeral, Matt stayed after everyone else had left and apologized profusely for not being able to save you. Matt had to let you go but he told himself that burden of guilt rested on his shoulders. Although, you knew it wasn’t his fault.

You knew he couldn’t hear you but you replied anyway.

“I’m here, Matty, but I have a feeling not for much longer.” You said, trying to touch his hand but it just passed straight through and maybe you willed him to hear you as you spoke again. “You have to let go.”

You sensed he was ready to say goodbye which pained you more than that mugger’s lethal stab wound ever could.

“I don’t want to but I have to let you go, sweetheart.” Matt said as his eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’ll always love you, y/n.”

If you were capable of crying, you would have.

“I’ll always love you too, Matt.” You said with a warm smile and “touching” his face.

He closed his eyes and let out a long exhale just as you swept your hand across his cheek, almost as if he could feel your touches.

A slight smirk stretched across his lips as he said, “You’re trying to tell me you’re ok, aren’t you.”

Your hand ghosted against his other cheek and he smiled again.

“I’m ok, Matty. It’s alright, you can let go now.” You said.

The light at your back was calling to you. It was time to go. Although you didn’t know where you were being called to, you wished with all your heart that Matt would be alright and deep down, you knew he would be.

As you turned to walk away, you gazed at Matt one last time, committing to memory what he was wearing, the look on his face, and any other small things you never wanted to forget about him.

You loved the way he adjusts his glasses, rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up, the way he puts his suit on in the morning, or anytime he kissed you and told you he loved you.

You wondered if he had little things about you he committed to his memory, and if he did, what were they? It made you sad that you’ll never know what they could be but you hoped that Matt Murdock would never ever forget you.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @chezagnes @elgrandeavocados @freshabogados @matt-erialgirl

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @k-marzolf @fluffyprettykitty @hellskitchens-whore

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it! I’ve only tagged a handful of people. If you liked it, you can tell me, I don’t bite. I know I haven’t written for Matt in awhile, no pressure.

[fawnprincessblog]

could u do subby 2006 tom whos inexperienced in pussy eating and he wants to do it for the first time on reader and she guides him through it cuz hes nervous but turns out being rlly good. and he asks "am i doing good" "is this right" and u praise him and hes just ends up being the best at it. :)))

𝓘𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓽.

type: smut (2006 tom kaulitz × fem reader)

includes: oral sex (fem receiving),sub!tom. uh, blurb please! : subby little inexperienced tom fantasizes about eating out some pussy and he ends up being amazing at it.

Tom had been fantasising about eating you out. Not in the make out type of way, more of the oral type of way. His needy little self had been interested in trying something else besides the same typical sex you two have been engaging in. The only problem was, he had never done it before. 

He was clueless. He just knew that he needed to please you using his mouth. He wanted to taste your sweetness on his tongue. 

So, he gathered up the courage to ask you when the both of you were getting intimate that one night in his hotel room. You were seated on his lap on the bed, your hands on his shoulders as your lips pressed against his,  your tongues fighting for dominance, sharing sloppy wet kisses. Tom had his hands firmly holding onto your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. 

Small moans and whines left your lips as you tasted his tongue, his body scent strong. It only fueled your desire to go further again tonight. Though, Tom had broken the kiss. “Baby,” he began, slightly out of breath. “Can I ask you something?” 

You sigh, predicting what he would ask you usually. “Yes, Tom, we can bring out the handcuffs if you wa—”

“N-No,” he cuts in, “Not that.”

“Then?” You ask. 

“Can I try to eat you out? Down there?” He asked, his voice a little soft, slightly embarrassed you’d say no or something. His face visibly got a little pink. 

“What?” You arch your eyebrows a little, and he gathers the courage to repeat his sentence. “Can I…”

“No, no, I heard you the first time,” you say, chuckling a little at his shyness. “Go ahead. I’d like to feel that.” 

“What? Really?” He asked for reassurance, his eyes widening a little, and you nod. Just by imagining it, he was already growing hard, though he was nervous to even do it. He didn’t know if he would do it right, and if he’d even end up giving you any pleasure. He didn’t want this to be only for him, but for you too. 

The next thing Tom knew, you were laying on the bed, legs spread for him, your bare pussy exposed to the cold air around you. You were already wet from earlier, which made Tom’s need for you grow even more just by looking at it. His head was in between your thighs, though he was hesitant to immediately jump right into the pussy eating. 

You were looking down at him, noticing his nervousness. “C’mon, Tom, don’t be shy,” you encouraged, and he looked back up at you. “I don’t know if I’ll do it right…” he muttered, and you giggled a little. “I’ll guide you, don’t worry,” you promise, becoming impatient to feel this as well. 

Tom leaned in, head snuggled in between your thighs. His breathing hitched, heartbeat quickening by the second. With a rough yet gentle force, Tom’s tongue dipped into your core, tasting your sweetness; something that he longed to taste directly onto his tongue for so long. 

He immediately whimpered at the feeling, his tongue giving you soft licks at first. “Mmh–” you moan out softly, feeling his warm tongue brush against your clit. You close your eyes, biting your lower lip in anticipation. 

Tom didn’t know if what he was doing was right. He was just focused on your wetness, not noticing that you were kind of enjoying the feeling. It made him even more nervous. He stopped for a second. “A-Am I doing this right?” He asked, and you reopen your eyes due to the loss of contact. 

“Yes, love,” you say. “You’re doing well.” 

Tom liked hearing you praise him like that. It was nice to hear, and it only made him needier. He brought his tongue back onto your soaked cunt, lapping at your folds with eager strokes. He didn’t want to seem too desperate and rush things, but it was way too obvious. “Is this…how you do it?” He asked innocently. 

“Yes, mmh, that’s how you do it,” you respond, and the more noises you made, the more it pleased Tom. He was doing it well. 

His tongue plunged deeper, eager to taste every bit of you. Small whines and whimpers left his lips as he continued to lick you, his body trembling with need to go faster, harder. 

“Does it feel good?” He asked, and you moan in response, “Yes…yes, it does,” closing your eyes once more. “Go harder, Tom, go harder.”

That shocked him. You really did like it, and he was doing a good job. Your pleas for him to go harder was his green light. He was going to go all in now. With one swift movement, Tom lifted your legs over his shoulders, exposing you fully to his tongue's exploration. He took advantage of the position, delving deeper into your folds with long, slow licks and hard, rapid strokes that threatened to send you over the edge. 

“Ngh—fuck, Tom, that feels so good,” you whimper, your breaths hitched. “Don’t stop,” you beg, and he groaned in response, showing how eager he was. His nervousness was dying down. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned against your entrance, sending vibrations up your body, which only increased the pleasure. He coated your pussy with saliva, becoming much more confident and passionate about it now. 

Your hands reach down to tug at his dreadlocks, seeking more rough friction with his tongue. The sudden tugs only made him whimper and increase his pace. “Fuck—” you gasp, your head thrashing back into the pillow you lay on. 

“How does this feel?” He asked, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. He started nipping at your sensitive clit, eliciting a moan from you, your back arching slightly at the feeling. “Mmh—fuck, it feels good,” you moan out, your grip on his hair growing a little much more firm. 

Tom could feel his cock twitching and hardening at the noises you made. His erection kept grinding at the edge of the bed, aching for a pleasurable release. The more it rubbed against his jeans, the more he moaned and whimpered into your cunt as he eagerly sucked and licked it.

You were pleased, and he was satisfied. Tom loved the way you responded to his touch, your body arching off the bed in search of more. He continued his assault, alternating between long, slow licks and sharp nips, driving you wild with desire. 

“Mmf—I’m close, Tom…” you warn, feeling that familiar knot in your lower stomach. “Fuck,” he grunted, “Cum on my tongue, please,” he whimpered, desperate to feel your release on his tongue. His hands were on your thighs, holding them down onto his shoulders as he sucked onto your clit. Tom’s stiff cock rubbed harder against his jeans, the pressure of the bed pressing onto it, sending him over the edge. With one final hard push, he plunged his tongue deep into your core, hitting your sweet spot just right. 

You immediately released your liquids straight onto his tongue, your back arching off the bed. A sharp moan escaped your lips, your eyes squeezing shut as the orgasm crashed over you. Tom however, had cum straight in his pants, the friction of the rubbing from the bed and the noises you made sending waves of pleasure through his body. He let out a weak moan as his lips slowly departed from your aching cunt, his hips jerking a little into nothing as he experienced his own orgasm. He was embarrassed with the fact he even did that. 

He swallowed your sweet liquids on his tongue. “Fuck, you’re so good…” you breathe, your chest moving up and down rapidly. Tom slowly raised his head to look at you, his body still trembling as his orgasm subsided. “Really?” He asked, and you nod, propping yourself on your shoulders to look at Tom better. He was glad to hear that. 

“...You tasted really nice…” he mumbled. “Can I do it again?” 

“Fuck yes,” you say. “Yes you can.” 

[joejoesaurus]

Date Night ! Yuji Idtadori

Context : Yuji planned a surprised date night out

Yuji Itadori had a plan for a surprise dinner date that he hoped would be perfect. He knew he was not exactly the most romantic guy, but he was determined to make this night special. He started by sneaking out of the dorms early to pick up some groceries, carefully selecting ingredients for a simple but delicious meal. He had been paying attention and knew what you were like.  

Back at the dorm, Yuji spent the afternoon in the kitchen, clumsily following a recipe he found online. The kitchen quickly became a mess, but he did not mind. He was too focused on making sure everything was exactly right. He set the table with extra care, even finding a small candle to place in the centre for a cozy touch. 

As the sun began to set, Yuji felt a mix of nerves and excitement. He could not wait to see the look on your face when you walked in and saw everything he had done. He had no idea if it would all go according to plan, but he was ready to give it his all. 

The smell of something delicious greeted me as soon as I stepped into Yuji’s dorm. I paused at the door, taking in the sight before me. Yuji was in the tiny kitchen area, wearing a borrowed apron that was a bit too small for him, concentrating hard as he stirred something in a pot. The table was set with mismatched plates and utensils, and there was a small candle flickering in the center. It was clear he’d put a lot of effort into this. 

“Yuji, did you... cook all this?” I asked, a bit surprised and incredibly touched. 

He turned around, his face lighting up when he saw me. “Yeah! I wanted to do something special, so I thought I’d make us dinner. It’s not fancy or anything, but I promise it’ll taste good!” His cheeks were slightly flushed, maybe from the heat of the kitchen or the nerves of pulling this off. 

I walked over to the stove, peeking into the pot. “It smells amazing. What are we having?” 

“Just something simple pasta with homemade sauce. I also made a salad and, um, tried to bake some bread,” he said, pointing to a slightly misshapen loaf on the counter. “It’s a little... rustic, but it should be okay!” 

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yuji, this is incredible. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.” 

He shrugged, giving me that easygoing grin. “It wasn’t trouble at all. I wanted to do it. You deserve something nice, and, well, I thought this would be a fun surprise.” 

He finished up the cooking, serving the pasta with a flourish as if he were a professional chef. We sat down at the table, and as we dug into the meal, I was struck by how thoughtful Yuji was. The food was delicious—maybe not gourmet, but it was made with so much care that it didn’t matter. 

We talked and laughed, the conversation flowing as easily as it always did between us. Yuji kept checking to make sure I was enjoying everything, his eyes lighting up every time I complimented the food.  

As the evening progressed, the candle burned lower, casting a warm, golden light over the room. I couldn’t stop smiling. The simple dinner in his small dorm felt more special than any fancy restaurant could have. It was just the two of us, sharing a meal that Yuji had made with his own hands, and that made it perfect. 

After we finished our meal, Yuji insisted on clearing the plates, but I helped him anyway. The small kitchen was quickly tidied up, and before long, we found ourselves back in his room, the cozy warmth of the evening lingering in the air.

Yuji flopped onto his bed with a satisfied sigh, patting the spot next to him. "Come here," he said softly, his usual energy replaced with a gentle calm. I didn’t need any more encouragement. I climbed onto the bed and snuggled up beside him, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence.

He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close until I could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the soothing sound as his fingers absentmindedly played with my hair. We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world outside his dorm fading away.

"Did you have a good time?" Yuji asked quietly, his voice soft and a little hesitant, as if he was still worried that maybe the night hadn’t been as special as he’d hoped.

I looked up at him, meeting his warm brown eyes. "I had the best time," I whispered back, meaning every word. "This was perfect, Yuji. Thank you."

His face broke into a wide grin, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "I’m really glad," he said, his voice filled with relief and happiness. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

"You spoil me, Yuji," I chuckled.

"Don't you think I should get a reward then?" Yuji grinned mischievously. "And what reward would that be, sir?" I teased, looking up at him. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Just, you know… haha…"

Before I could respond, I felt a warm blush rise to my cheeks, he had a boner!?

"Uhm Yuji..? I think your little friend needs help there.." I say pointing at his "manhood" .

"Think you could help me out then, what do you say baby?"

Hope you enjoyed this!!

|･ω･*)凸 ヾ(；ᗒᗣᗕ)ツ

[crusty-chronicles]

Touch

Ging x Reader Drabble

Synopsis: Cuddling with Ging takes a soft turn.

You snuggled further into his neck. Happy to be reunited after months of being apart. You don't know why you kept waiting for him. Or why he was so adamant to keep coming back. But you did know you'd never been more comfortable, sitting on his lap with an arm slung tightly around you. 

You've never known Ging to be affectionate with anybody. It was always a surprise when he'd let you get this close. Though it was quickly becoming more frequent.

Your hand managed to navigate the layers of his clothes, slipping under to touch his skin. You craved more of his warmth. His heartbeat steady against your fingertips. A sign he was content to be here. 

Somehow you'd become completely enamored with the man who dreaded commitment. Who never promised you anything, yet still gave it. You yearned for so much more than a few days' visit. Although it was still more than he gave anyone else. 

You pressed yourself further into him, mumbling something you knew you shouldn't have into his neck.

“I'd crawl inside your skin if you'd let me.”

Fingers flexing against his chest. He pulled back slightly to peer down at you. An amused expression gracing his features. One that left your face heating up and your own heart beating in overdrive.

“Oh I'd let you.” He responded.

His own hand coming to rest on your neck. Applying light pressure before pulling you closer to him.

“Go on then,” he encouraged. “You know I’d never deny you.”

Your breath hitched at his words. Getting flustered from his show of trust. You used your ability to dip your hand into his chest. Phasing through and holding his very soul in the palm of your hand. The thrum of his life at your mercy.

“You're crazy for letting me do this.” You whispered, concentrating on not hurting him. 

Though you weren't one to talk. You were sure you were equally as crazy for loving this. The closeness it provided. You could feel every hesitation and doubt. Everything that drove him forward and held him back. The hidden affection he held for those closest to him. You could pry into him to your heart's content…And he'd willingly let you.

“Why? It's not like you're gonna kill me. Besides…It's thrilling.” 

You were sure he enjoyed this more than you did. Urging you closer as he held you. You couldn't have been any more right.

If he could describe the relationship between you two, he'd call it obsession. Your ability had him in a chokehold, so to speak. So very unique, and yet so very dangerous. It contrasted greatly from your soft-spoken nature.

You never played into his games or plans, signaling you out from the start. Try as he may to figure you out, he never could. A puzzle he just couldn't solve. And he loved it. God did he love following you around to try and get a reaction. Instead, you'd given patience. You never seemed to get agitated or take him up on any of his offers. He'd been forced to accept that he'd never understand you. 

He didn't want to.

Becoming putty in his hands the same way he was in yours. 

So many would kill to be in your position, especially a certain rat zodiac. Holding his very life in your hands, and choosing to cradle it softly. The power to end one of the world's greatest. It scares him. Not the possibility of you actually doing it, but because he'd let you. 

How many others had he let get this close? How many had the privilege to have free reign over his body? To touch him the way you did?

He was addicted to everything that you were. 

He loves the power you hold over him simply because he knows you'd never use it. At least not the way it was intended to. You only ever used your ability to get close. To seek out more of him. 

Your voice cut through his thoughts.

“I might not be waiting the next time you leave…So you better take me with you, don't you think?” 

You looked up at him with a meek expression. Almost pleading for him to stay with you any way he could. Both of you knowing you'd never really give up on him. That didn't mean he wasn't surprised you'd suggested it in the first place. 

Having you with him 24/7? It would surely bring about his demise. How could he possibly focus knowing you were there, yet not being able to touch you? Not being able to feel your presence completely envelope his? It would be maddening…Yet he humored you all the same.

“Sure, if you can keep up.”

You rested your head against his neck once more. A content smile on your face.

“I can keep up,” you said before removing your hand from his chest. The feeling of his warm skin greeting you. 

Unaware of him mourning the loss of your presence. He'd let you stay that way forever if it didn't tire you out as much as it did. He knows if you tag along there's a possibility of you falling for someone else. After all, you managed to catch his attention. 

So for his own piece of mind, he gives you some semblance of the confirmation you want.

“You're mine, you know that?” He questions, feeling the way you sunk further into him. Limbs becoming tangled.

Even if you weren't, he'd find a way to keep you. You were too special to let go. To move on from. 

“I'm yours.” You responded without hesitation.

He decides to reward you with the affection you oh so craved. Leaning down to press kisses across your face. Letting you cup his face with both hands after a few. Thumbing the sides of his cheeks before resting your forehead on his.

“I'm yours.” You repeated, voice breathless from the sweetness of his onslaught. 

He gave a soft smile, moving forward to finally capture your lips in a real kiss. Allowing himself to be soft in the privacy of your presence, where no one could see how utterly smitten he was with you.

-----------------------------------------------

An: Welcome back CoryXKenshin, we all say in unison. Y'all can thank him for today's upload. When the world needed him most, he returned.

Anywho- I'm caught up with the HxH manga, which is where the idea for this fic came from. Originally, it was gonna be cuddle drabbles for various characters, but this one became super long. (There i go again not uploading what i have on my roster 😭😭😭 BUT!!!! The fics are coming. When? Soon. 🤞🤞) Thank y'all for your support.

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

“I’ll Teach You.”

A/N: This story is about to the reader teaching Daryl how to braid hair! Hope you like it! ❤️

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

~~~~~

It was a slow day today. There hasn’t been much to do, not even all that many walkers trying to get in. It’s almost like the walkers had chosen to take the day off.

It was unusual for us to have an off day, but we definitely weren’t going to waste this chance to relax and unwind.

Daryl and I laid in bed, his head on my chest, my chin resting on top of his head. Neither of us could sleep, so I needed to do something to keep myself entertained.

I started playing with Daryl’s hair.

I was messing around with Daryl’s long locks of dark colored hair, and that slowly evolved into me braiding, a couple small braids into his hair. It wouldn’t last long enough for anyone to see since I’d run my fingers through them and smoothing out his hair.

I did this plenty of times and one day he asked me the age old question, “What are you doing back there?”

“Braiding your hair.” I smiled leaning down to plant a kiss to his forehead.

“Why?”

“Because I like messing with this hair of yours.” I admit running my fingers through his hair, causing him to hiss as it got caught on some knots embedded in his hair. “Sorry.”

“You keep messin’ with it this much, I’mma cut it.” He says and I playfully hit his shoulder.

I knew Daryl was just saying it as a joke, but instead of it stopping me, it only encourages me to keep doing it.

I like it. Daryl likes it. If he didn’t he be up in a heartbeat.

He also knows I mean no hair to him or his hair, this is one of the many ways I show affection.

My eyes go wide when I think of the best idea yet, and I look down at him, a mischievous grin plastered atop of my face. “What’er ya up to this time?”

“I was thinking, I could teach you to braid hair.” I said, and Daryl starts shaking his head, as he sat up straight. “Come on! It’d be fun.”

“Yeah, for you maybe.”

“Come on, you know you want too…”

“What would I even do wit’ it? Zombies ain’t got no hair.” Daryl said and causing a laugh to erupt from me. I then pointed over at little Judith playing around with Michonne.

If there’s anything he cared about more than anything, it’s that sweet little girl. And he’d do anything for her, and I loved and admired that for him.

“A’right. Come on.” I smiled and hugged him, and that’s when I taught him how to successfully braid someone’s hair.

——————

I smile and watched as Daryl tried his hand at braids Judith’s hair. After teaching him how, I’d catch him repeating the steps to doing it to himself, even when he’s braiding.

If he’s not murmuring it to himself then he’s repeating it in his mind.

He wants this to be perfect, and I adore his dedication to learning it.

I watch as he gently parts the center of her hair, and takes the hair in his hand and separates it in three sections.

Slowly intertwining the sections of hair along the side of her head, bringing it downwards, and then gently tying it off with a rubber band then a sunflower hair clip.

He then did the same to the other side, giving Judith a little tap on the shoulder letting her know he was finished. She thanked him with a huge smile and even bigger hug, before leaving to show off her new hairstyle.

“Looks like we have a natural-born braider of hair over here.” I grin and he nudges me in the side.

“But really though, that was really good. You are truly gifted with everything you do.”

“What’re ya tryna butter me up or somethin’?” He said and I give him a look.

“Well… now that you mention it..” He shakes his head, knowing exactly what I was going to ask.

“Come on, just this once? I’ll never ask again.” He gives me a look, knowing good and well, I’m going to forget and ask him again at a different point in time. “Whatever! Just- please?”

He sighs finally agreeing, and I hug him and sat down in the chair, letting the master do his work.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Set Heaven on Fire

Wake Up, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: implied non-con/sexual assault, misogynistic language, swearing, angst

a/n: I feel really unsure about this chapter so PLEASE like, comment, and/or reblog to tell me you like it! Some angst (before the hurt) before the fluff. 

w/c: 3.3k

A heather gray pea coat passed through your peripheral vision and the sight, combined with the wafts of that deep sticky cologne, made you catch your breath. 

Told you that I’d come for you, Princess. 

Eyes darting around wildly, you meekly shuffled forward in line, inching closer to the hotel employee who looked as frantic as you felt. Breathing as deeply as you could, you tried to calm your stuttering heart. Why did I ever agree to this?? What if he’s here?

You and Matt were currently checking in at the venue of the annual Criminal Law Conference. A conference that you normally wouldn’t attend—especially since you were approaching a year as volunteer coordinator and thus the anniversary of the internal investigation that had ended so poorly—but this event was a rather intimate affair and attendees were encouraged to bring their partners. Matt had practically begged you to come, and you were not immune to his signature puppy dog eyes. According to him and Foggy, there were educational sessions and discussion forums during the day, but prestigious networking events at night—similar to the gala you'd attended together so long ago. You couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of that dreadful night.  

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you into a solid chest. With a small squeak, you allowed yourself to fall against the warm body behind you.

“Breathe, sweet girl.” The deep rumble spilled from Matthew Murdock’s lips, giving you a point of focus. You dutifully obeyed his instructions, inhaling a strong breath and letting it out slowly. 

“That’s my good girl,” Matt purred, warming your body with his subtle flirt. “What’s got you so worked up, angel?” You could feel the eyes of the other attorneys in line falling on the pair of you. 

“Dunno.” You murmured in response, shifting in his arms so you could bury your face in his neck to hide from the crowd’s collective gaze. “I just…thought I saw someone.” 

“Snyder?” Matt’s brow pinched as he took his focus off of you for a moment to search for any sign of the crone. 

“Uh, yah.” You whispered, but your heartbeat stumbled. Why were you lying? Who had you thought you’d seen? Was it just a cover because he was the one making you nervous? Oh god, he was totally making you nervous. 

“The line is moving again.” Your quiet, anxious voice cascaded over him once more and he decided to drop the inquiry, for now. You didn’t seem to be in a great headspace for an interrogation. 

“Thanks, angel. Guide me?” He gave a pronounced pout, coupled with his aforementioned puppy dog eyes, hoping the expression would lighten your mood. It seemed to work marginally as he heard the small smile in your sweet voice as you spoke again. 

“Always, love.” You carefully untangled yourself from his grasp, sliding his left hand to the crook of your right elbow. The two of you moved forward with the crowd, your place in line just shy of the front desk at this point. 

“412, 414, 416. We’re in this room here. Hold my bag for a second?” You waited for Matt’s nod before handing over your suitcase so that you could insert the key card in the door. 

Once inside, and away from the prying eyes of your colleagues, you felt the tension seep out of your body. Matt’s hand slipped from your arm, making you frown. He walked into the room ahead of you. 

“Sorry for all the PDA back there, everyone was looking so I…” His voice was soft, almost nervous. 

Sitting on the bed, he removed his glasses and nervously rubbed at his face. 

“That’s not what made me anxious, Matty. I promise.” You plopped down next to him, leaning onto his shoulder. With one hand on the small of his back, you nudged his chin with a single finger so that your foreheads could rest against each other.

“You’re sure?” The undercurrent of fear in his tone didn’t go unnoticed. Matt’s self-doubt didn’t rear its head often around you at the beginning of your pretend relationship, but, as he began to trust you implicitly, he couldn���t quite keep his personal demons at bay. Thankfully, you were more than willing to reassure him when his worries surfaced. 

“Absolutely certain, darling. You know that I get stressed in crowds. Besides, I could never complain about being held by the Matthew Murdock. Do you know how many women would kill for that opportunity?” You poked his cheek, making him smile. 

The lawyer blushed, ducking his head with a small grin. You grinned at him in return. “It’s true. They’re practically lining up just to catch a meager glance from you.” 

Matt snickered. “I don’t know about lining up…”

You looked at him, face softening. “I’m very lucky to have a fake boyfriend like you, darling. I think about that a lot.” Your heart rate picked up as Matt moved closer. 

“You think about me a lot?” Matt’s eyes were dancing with heated mirth and it sent a jolt straight to your core. 

Heat rose in your face as Matt pressed in closer to you, slowly pushing you onto your back and boxing you in with his huge arms. 

“So what if I do, Matty?” Biting your lip, you internally cringed at how wobbly your attempted flirt sounded. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetness.” Matt rolled off of you, frowning, settling on his side next to you. Your heart fell as he distanced himself, as if you’d expected him to tear you apart right there on that bed. 

Recovering your dignity as well as you could, you nestled yourself against the pillows with a sigh. “Speaking of me being shy, could we, um, talk about something later? About us?” 

As if a switch had been flipped, Matt’s body stiffened next to you, his blank eyes growing wide and his demeanor becoming gruff. “Can it wait until after tonight?”

Your heart sank at his reaction. “Of-of course, Matty. How long until I have to put my game face on?”

“Well, there’s a social thing in a couple hours or so, but we do not need to stay long.” Matt’s voice was almost…stern?

Something about his new mood set you on edge. You’d been trying to be more physically affectionate with him in place of outright confessing your feelings. (Every time you thought about admitting how much you liked him, your throat felt like it was closing up, so you had avoided the topic until this moment.) 

Had you been making Matt uncomfortable? Since you’d gotten here, he just seemed…off. The brief flirting session had indicated to you that it was just nerves because of his peers, but now you weren’t so sure. You shuffled around on the bed uneasily, deciding on your next move. 

“Oh, ok. I’ll get ready then.” Your voice was timid as you slid off the bed. Padding into the pristine bathroom, you turned the shower on before letting your eyes fill with tears. He doesn’t want you. He never will. 

Matt’s chest clenched as he smelled salt on the stale air of the hotel room. You were crying in the bathroom, barely 10 feet away from him and yet he was entirely powerless. The sound of your heart rate rising as your body exuded anxiety taunted him relentlessly. 

After talking with Foggy and Karen a few weeks ago, he’d been trying to muster up the courage to ask you out properly. Until today, he’d even had hope that you’d be excited to be in a more legitimate relationship with him—clearly his friends were mistaken. His presence did nothing but drive your vitals through the roof but he wasn’t willing to let you go just yet. 

He’d tried to find the spark that had been there during your first kiss a few weeks ago, but the shakiness in your sweet little voice clearly signaled fear. You didn’t want to do this with him anymore. 

That was what you’d wanted to talk to him about, right? It had to be. “About us?” Your soft wavering voice had crushed him. He’d been waiting for this specific shoe to drop for weeks, but the waves of shock and hurt hit him like a bus anyway. 

Emotion welled up in his throat and he swallowed painfully, trying to hold back the roiling storm in his chest. It was cruel to keep you here with him if you didn’t want to be. Tonight, he’d set you free. 

Fidgeting with the strands of your wet hair, you let out a sigh. Your eyes were bloodshot to the point that you were concerned makeup wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that you’d been crying. An anxiety-inducing cherry on top of the shitty day you’d ended up having. 

A quiet knock on the door drew a small squeak out of you. “Yah?” 

“Hey, uh, you don’t need to come tonight, sweetness. You’ve done enough. Don’t want to force you.” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you peeled the door open to reveal a formally dressed Matt, glasses obscuring his stony gaze. 

“You…you don’t want me to come?” You whispered, throat closing up while your heart pounded. 

“It’s not that I don’t want you there, I just—“

“Did I do something wrong?” You desperately searched Matt’s face for any indicator that he was lying, his sweet self trying to spare you anxiety or something. 

“No, of course not, I didn’t mean—“ 

“Then what did you mean, Matt? I must’ve done something, you’re clearly upset!” You were almost angry now. After everything the two of you had been through and suddenly you having feelings was a deal breaker? Like you just couldn’t help yourself around him anymore?

“You just don’t need to be there, so I’m not going to force you—“

“Force me? Where is this coming from, Matt? Is this because of what I said earlier? About wanting to talk? Because we don’t have to, we can just—“

“Just what, keep pretending to be in love with each other? Kissing and holding hands and bantering like one of us isn’t going to get attached? That’s not fair to either of us.” Matt was yelling now, fists clenched. 

“I—I didn’t know you felt this way about someone getting attached. I wouldn’t have said anything, I—“

“Yeah because that would’ve solved everything, right? Just lying to my face until I didn’t need you anymore?” Jaw set with rage, you realized you weren’t looking at Matt Murdock, but the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

“Matt—“ You tried to reason with the raging force in front of you, but he was having none of it. 

“Go home,” Matt growled your name in a way that made you flinch. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come. I’m sorry.” With one last angry murmur, he straightened his tie and disappeared through the room’s door, leaving you to crumble to the floor with a new flow of sobs. How had tonight unraveled so quickly? 

Breathing eventually falling into a controllable rhythm, you hastily wiped at your face and set off on wobbly legs to grab your suitcase. Shooting a text to Marci to let her know that you had tried to confess your feelings and it ended up being a huge mistake, you steeled yourself before turning your back on the room you’d planned on sharing with the man you had feelings for. 

Whipping open the door, you kept your head down and took a step toward the elevators, running head first into Beatrice Snyder. 

Matt’s jaw was painfully clenched by the time he reached the ballroom. He’d commit a litany of sins in his life, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would be damned for what he did to you tonight. While it was not your fault that you didn’t return his feelings, his hurt quickly turned to anger. 

Anger was familiar. Anger was safe. Rejection wasn’t. 

Stepping over to the bar, he failed to return the bartender’s smile and polite tone. “Whiskey, double.” 

Downing the glass the moment it was set in front of him, he slammed it back to the bar top. “Refill.” Then, remembering his manners, “Please.” 

Feeling a presence over his shoulder, he cursed his cruel God for letting Foggy find him before he was sufficiently wasted. 

“Going a little hard for a work event, eh Murdock?” Foggy’s chuckle was humorless and a bit nervous as he gave his friend a once-over. “Where’s your better half?” 

“Gone. Sent her home.” Matt downed the second glass of liquor, refusing to let down his guard again tonight. 

“And as obvious as it is that you’re having a great time on your own, why, pray tell, did you do that?” Foggy’s tone was level, but Matt could hear his frustration simmering beneath the surface. 

“She knows, Fog. I don’t know how but she knows that I like her. And she doesn’t feel the same way. So I didn’t see the point of fooling myself any longer. It wasn’t fair to her.” 

“Matt, bud—“ Foggy reached for Matt’s arm but he jerked away from the offered touch. 

“What, Fog? Can you honestly tell me that any of this has been kind to her? I know you expected this to become real at some point, but clearly that’s not going to happen. I think we both just need some time.” The thought of being apart from you was excruciating, but he’d dug this grave himself. 

“Did she say that? Matt, what on earth—“ Foggy was clearly about to chew him out, but someone else beat him to it. 

“Murdock, I have a bone to pick with you!” Marci’s voice was angry and loud, sending a spike of pain through Matt’s pounding eardrums. 

“Babe, maybe it’s best if we—“ Foggy placated, his hands raised in surrender and Marci stormed towards the bar. 

“Save it, Foggy Bear. Matthew Motherfucking Murdock what the fuck did you do?” A well-manicured hand shoved Matt’s chest and, while he would’ve been able to stop it, he took the punishment in stride. It was nowhere close to what he deserved. 

“You’re going to need to be more specific.” Matt remarked drily. 

“Oh, spare me your attitude. You seriously blew up on her because she likes you? How goddamn childish. After everything she’s done for you—“ 

“Wait, what?” Matt and Foggy spoke in unison, brows furrowing in tandem. 

“Let’s drop the innocent act, ok, it’s not a good look. If you didn’t feel the same way, you could have let her down easy instead of blowing up on her and leaving her alone.” Marci rolled her eyes, waving down the bartender. 

“I didn’t—“ Matt’s chest felt tight. It wasn’t possible, you’d seemed so nervous around him. You’d lied to him about the reason. 

“Marce, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Matt, care to shed some light on that?” Crossing his arms, Foggy turned back to his legal partner with a raised brow. 

“I—I thought she was tired of pretending. She said she wanted to talk and she’s been jumpy all day, I assumed she wanted to ‘break up’” Matt didn’t realize how pathetic that explanation was until saying it out loud. 

“Oh my god, you kicked her out and you didn’t even know what she wanted to talk about!? Murdock of all the idiots—“ Foggy was overtly upset now, anger bleeding into his words. 

“I know, Fog. I fucked up. Shit, I have to go find her.” Dread was washing over his body like sub zero water. What the fuck had he done. 

“Yah, man. You do. And I’d hurry.” 

Matt clasped Foggy’s shoulder, making a beeline for the exit. 

Beatrice Snyder smiled at you like a feral cat snarling at its prey. Your name rolled off her tongue like a drop of poison onto your skin. 

“So nice to see you again, dear. Where’s your handsome boyfriend?” 

“Do-downstairs.”

“And you’re leaving without him? Aw, you poor thing. What happened, did the two of you have a lover’s quarrel? Don’t tell me you broke up!” Her manicured hand fell over her heart in a gesture of mock horror. 

“No, he just—“ You started. 

“No need to explain yourself to me, dear,” The cruel woman  spat the term of endearment at you. “You've clearly been through enough already.” Her eyes hardened with judgement. 

A deep voice cleared their throat behind you and all of the hair on your neck stood up. 

Notes of tobacco and bourbon mingled poorly on the air around you, accelerating your nausea. Please do not let this be happening. Please, someone, anyone don’t let it be him. 

“Ah, yes. How rude of me. I should introduce you to the new associate attorney at HCB: James Lannister.” Snyder bared her fangs at you again, gesturing to a force behind you. 

You were going to be sick. The walls were closing in around you. Your body froze, petrified with horror as a gnarled hand crept over your shoulder. 

“It’s been too long, little Princess. You’ve looked better.” James Lannister strode around you, his piercing gray eyes lingering on your body, making your stomach churn. Your nightmares had immortalized him—with his greasy blond hair and broad, towering frame. His smile revealed inhumanly white teeth and a dangerous glint in his eyes. Your mouth felt like it was welded shut, your tongue a chunk of solid lead that was slowly choking you. “Nothing to say to me, huh? No apology?”

Fingers clenching around the handle of your suitcase, you took a step backwards in lieu of a response. Lannister’s wandering hands snatched your arm in a vice grip. “I think you and I need to have a little chat, Princess.” Snyder grinned as he began to drag you towards the stairwell, your suitcase falling to the carpet of the hallway with an inaudible thunk.

“Karma’s a bitch, dear. I’d better get downstairs, I’m sure Matthew would love to know what his sweet little thing is up to when he’s not around to keep her in line.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes again at the thought of poor Matt, who already hated you, being subjected to Snyder’s falsehoods. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want, just leave him alone!” Snyder ignored you as Lannister cackled. 

“Aw, the little whore found someone else she cares about, did she?” You were sobbing now, struggling against his humongous strength, weakly battering him with your fists as you tried to run after Snyder. “Shut up, you vile slut. She can’t help you. You’re my gift for joining the firm.” His rough fingertip traced a line over your jaw and you flinched backward as far as you could. 

Pulling your arm downwards as hard as you could, you broke free of his grip and stumbled back up the cement stairs, crying out as you rolled your ankle in your haste to escape. Throwing you down to the nearest landing, Lannister snarled. “That’s it, you little bitch.” Ripping a handgun from his back pocket, he pulled back the hammer and aimed at your pounding head. “Another peep out of you and you’ll never see him again. Get up.” 

The floor felt liquid beneath you as your unsteady legs found their way into a standing position. You raised your hands, terrified into submission once again. 

The pair of you made your way down to the ground level and out through a back door, where two other men dressed in suits were waiting. They grinned their sharp teeth at you, zip tying your hands together and stuffing a gag in your mouth. Hurling you into a waiting van, Lannister snickered. “Tonight I get pay back, Princess. It’ll be just like old times, you’ll see.” 

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

[queenofdragons12]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄 | 𝐚. 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

The morning light poured through the window, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. You stirred from your slumber, yawning softly as your eyes fluttered open to the burgeoning day.

But, as the world around you slowly came into focus, a peculiar sensation pulled you back from the brink of full consciousness. An arm encircled your waist, firm yet gentle, and a shiver of surprise raced down your spine. You turned your gaze downward, and to your astonishment, the arm was metallic—a sleek robot limb seamlessly fused with human form.

Curiosity mingled with affection as your eyes traveled upward, following the comforting curve of his embrace. There he was, the one you had shared your life with for eight long years. Anakin Skywalker—his features illuminated by the sun streaming through the window. The light sculpted his face in a way that made him seem almost ethereal, each shadow and highlight bringing forth his beauty like the grandest of masterpieces.

As you met his gaze, a sigh escaped your lips, a mix of contentment and love swelling within you. Slowly, you reached up to stroke his cheek with your hand, your fingers brushing against the softness of his skin, marveling at the juxtaposition of warmth and cold, the perfect harmony of man and machine. In that moment, all the struggles and battles you had faced together faded into the background, leaving only the profound connection that anchored your hearts.

In the quiet sanctuary of your morning, you realized once more that love could transcend the boundaries of the ordinary, intertwining moments of bliss with the essence of who you both were—two souls forever intertwined in a world that often defied the very fabric of reality.

“Hey,” Anakin murmured, leaning closer, his breath warm against your skin, the anticipation of a kiss hanging in the air like a gentle promise. Your heart fluttered as you met him halfway, your lips brushing together softly. You smiled into the kiss, savoring the moment, the taste of him lingering as you pulled back reluctantly, a thin thread of connection still between you.

Your fingers found the scar that arched over his eye, a stark reminder of battles fought and sacrifices made. “Hey, love,” you said, your voice a soothing melody, and his smile widened, illuminating the warmth in his gaze. In one fluid motion, he enveloped you in his arms, drawing you in until your chests touched, heartbeats synchronizing.

“Anything you want to do today?” he asked, his tone laced with genuine curiosity. “Do you have school?”

You shook your head, feeling the lightness of freedom wash over you. “No, Mari’s giving us the day off. I just have to take some pictures of animals and plants, that’s all.” A grin spread across your face, the thought of adventuring outdoors igniting a spark of excitement within you.

Anakin's expression brightened at your enthusiasm, his eyes reflecting the promise of shared adventures. “That sounds amazing,” he said, his voice full of encouragement. “Maybe I can come along? I could help you find the most interesting subjects.”

You felt a rush of thrill at the idea. The thought of exploring the vibrant world together, capturing fleeting moments of beauty with him by your side, felt like the perfect way to spend the day. “I’d love that! We can explore the meadow near the creek. I’ve seen some beautiful flowers blooming there.”

“Lead the way, then,” Anakin said, his grin widening as he released you from his embrace only to stand and extend his hand, an invitation sparkling in his eyes.

You took it, your fingers intertwining with his—the warmth of his touch grounding you as the two of you prepared to step outside, venturing into the world where nature awaited, and the sun showered you in its golden light. The day was yours, and with Anakin by your side, it promised to be anything but ordinary.

^^^^

After what felt like a blissful eternity, the sun had begun its slow descent in the sky, casting a warm, amber hue over the meadow. You had taken countless pictures, more than twenty, each snapshot a testament to the beauty of the world around you—flowers swaying gently in the breeze, a family of deer cautiously peeking from behind the trees, and the vibrant dance of butterflies flitting from blossom to blossom.

Feeling satisfied with your day’s work, you and Anakin decided it was time to head home. As you strolled hand-in-hand along the winding path, laughter still echoing from shared jokes and moments of intimacy, you spotted a familiar face in the distance.

“Hey, Erikas!” you called out, a smile lighting up your face.

Your classmate paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the sight of you and Anakin together. “Oh, hey,” he replied, giving you a quick nod before his gaze was drawn to Anakin, scrutinizing him from head to toe. A moment of silence hung in the air, the tension palpable, but Anakin stood there, unfazed, his confidence radiating like the sun above.

“And who are you?” Erikas asked, an eyebrow arched, curiosity laced with a hint of skepticism.

Anakin flashed his trademark smile, the one that could melt hearts and assure you that everything would be alright. “Her boyfriend. My name is Anakin,” he said, his voice steady and warm, a gentle assertiveness woven through his words.

You felt a swell of pride at his introduction, the possessiveness and affection mingling within you. “And how’s your week going, Erikas?” you asked, trying to shift the energy and keep the conversation light.

Erikas seemed momentarily thrown by Anakin’s easy demeanor, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. After a brief pause, he shrugged, shifting his attention back to you. “Not too bad. Just the usual assignments and all. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I get that,” you replied, hoping to steer the conversation away from any lingering tension. “But today was really nice. Just took some pictures, didn’t have to worry about school. You should join us sometime!”

Anakin nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. There’s plenty of beauty in this world to capture. More cameras and perspectives would always help.”

With that, you could see Erikas take a step back, his expression shifting from curiosity to reconciliation as he regarded Anakin more thoughtfully. “Maybe I will,” he said slowly, a hint of a smile creeping onto his lips. “Well, it was nice to see you, both of you. I’ll catch you in class.”

As he walked away, you felt a soft pressure release from your chest. You turned to Anakin, whose eyes sparkled with amusement. “I think I made a good impression.”

“Or at least a memorable one,” you joked, laughter bubbling up between you.

With a renewed sense of joy, the two of you continued your journey home, hearts light and connected, the day lingering in the air like the sweet perfume of the flowers you had photographed.

Your heart plummeted as Anakin suddenly winced, his expression twisted in pain. “Anakin, love, what’s happening?” you asked, panic creeping into your voice as you stepped closer, instinctively placing a hand over his. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

He held his chest, and the distress in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. “I… I think it’s the Force calling me home,” he said, his voice strained.

“What? Already? It’s only been over eight years. You shouldn’t need to go back yet,” you replied, desperation rising in your chest. How could this be happening? You had dreamed of more time together, more moments to share and memories to create.

Anakin sighed, and with a gentle hand, he stroked your cheek, his touch soothing yet filled with sorrow. “Love, it’s been eight years, as you said. I’m sure the war is over by now, but Obi-Wan needs me again,” he explained, offering you a brief, sad smile that only deepened your worry.

While his words held a sense of finality, you couldn’t let go just yet. “But you’re happy here! You found a life outside of it all, with me! Can’t you stay?” Your voice trembled as you fought back tears, the idea of losing him weighing heavily on your heart.

“Thanks to you, I never followed the lure of the dark side,” he said, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that said more than words ever could. “I’ve chosen this life because of your love, but duty calls. Obi-Wan—he needs me, and the galaxy… it will always need protectors.”

You looked into his eyes, the depth of his conviction catching you off guard. You knew he was right; he had always had a destined path to walk, one that intertwined with the fate of the galaxy. But the thought of him leaving sent a sharp pang through your soul.

“Anakin, please,” you pleaded, feeling the tears finally start to gather. “You don’t have to go. We can find a way. There must be a way.”

He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead against yours, grounding you through the tempest of emotions swirling in the air. “I wish I could stay, but it’s not just about me anymore,” he whispered. “I promised to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You have to understand.”

With every word, the realization that this could truly be goodbye settled heavily around you, a weight that felt impossible to bear. “What if you don’t come back?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the fear gripping your heart tightly.

He took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he cupped your face in both hands. “I will come back. I promise you,” he replied fiercely, determination shining through the sadness. “But you must let me go. I need you to be strong, to carry the light for both of us while I’m away.”

With a sinking heart, you nodded slowly, knowing the truth in his words but still hating every moment of it. “I’ll await your return,” you murmured, steeling yourself against the inevitable loss.

Anakin leaned in for one last kiss, one that felt charged with everything left unsaid and all the love you had for one another. It was sweet yet sorrowful, a moment that would be etched into your heart forever. As he pulled back, you knew that despite the impending distance, the bond you shared would remain unbreakable.

And with that, he took a step back, the call of duty echoing through the Force, a bittersweet reminder of the paths they would walk. With one last lingering look, he turned and started walking away, your heart heavy but filled with a resolve to remain strong until the day he would return to you.

~ FIVE WEEKS LATER ~

Five weeks had dragged on like an eternity. Each day felt heavier than the last, each moment a reminder of Anakin’s absence. Despite the distractions of school, the laughter of your classmates, and the bustle of everyday life, there was an ever-present ache in your chest. The few holo-calls you’d received had brought brief moments of joy, but they were fleeting, leaving you with an emptiness that no amount of time could fill.

You found solace in the quiet corners of the schoolyard, often retreating to a secluded bench outside, where the wind whispered secrets of the world that felt so far away. On one particularly difficult afternoon, you sat with your thoughts, grappling with the thorns that seemed to pierce deeper each day into your heart. Loving Anakin came with a weight that was both beautiful and agonizing, the knowledge that dragons only love once resonating within you like a solemn vow.

As you gazed at the pavement, lost in a haze of sorrow, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts. “Hey, you okay?” Elias asked, concern etched across his features as he approached.

You managed a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just…thinking,” you replied, hoping to brush off his worry, but the melancholy was hard to hide.

Elias sighed and without hesitation, he sat down next to you, his presence warm and grounding. He pulled you into his arms, a gesture that felt both comforting and unexpected. “There, there,” he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm against your turmoil.

And then the dam broke. You buried your face in his shoulder, tears spilling over as you allowed yourself to cry. His shirt absorbed your emotions, but he didn’t mind; he just held you tighter, a silent promise that you wouldn’t be alone in your pain.

“It’s hard,” you finally choked out, your voice muffled against the fabric. “I love him so much, but it feels like he’s a world away. I thought I could handle it, but…”

“Hey, it’s okay to feel that way,” Elias reassured you gently, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Love isn’t easy, especially not like this. It’s completely normal to feel lost when someone you care about is so far away.”

You took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts amidst the haze of emotion. “I just wish I could hear from him more. It’s like every time I pick up my comm, I wonder—what if he never comes back?”

Elias was quiet for a moment, letting the weight of your words settle. “You have to trust him, and trust yourself. He made a promise to return, and I believe he’ll keep it. You’re strong. You’ll get through this, even if it feels unbearable right now.”

His words wrapped around you like a reassuring hug, and you felt a flicker of hope despite the overwhelming darkness. This moment of vulnerability, of sharing your pain, felt like a step toward healing. “Thank you, Elias. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

With a soft smile, Elias pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “You don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, no matter what.”

You nodded, feeling a bit lighter with his support. The path ahead seemed uncertain, but with friends like Elias beside you, you knew you wouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of waiting alone. You took a moment, letting the warmth of the sun envelop you, reminding yourself that even while love was painful, it was also a strength that connected you with others.

As you lingered in this embrace, you cherished the thought that, eventually, you would hear from Anakin again. And until that moment came, you could lean on those who cared for you in the meantime.

“You know… you loved me once, didn’t you?”

The question caught you off guard, freezing your thoughts in an instant. Why would he bring this up now, especially in the midst of such uncertainty? You instinctively pulled away, the distance feeling necessary to shield yourself from a conversation that stirred memories you weren’t ready to confront. “Elias, don’t… don’t talk about that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you averted your gaze. The mention of love—especially given your current feelings for Anakin—was a thorny subject. “Dragons only love once.”

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, trying to bridge the gap you had created. “I just want you to know, if you ever lose Anakin, I’m here for you. Ebba and I… we’re over.” His expression was serious, and you sensed a rawness in his words that lured your eyes back to his.

“What happened this time? Did you cheat on her?” you blurted out, sharpness coating the question as you struggled to reconcile the boy next to you with a potential betrayal.

Elias flinched as if your words had struck a physical blow. “What? No, no!” he exclaimed, shaking his head vehemently. The sincerity in his voice eased some tension inside you, but your brow furrowed in confusion.

“So why? You and her seemed strong,” you pressed, searching his face for answers as doubt flickered across his features.

“I know. I thought we had something,” he said, his voice quieting as he stared off into the distance. “But she was the one who realized we couldn’t be together anymore. We lived in completely different places, after all, and she went to a different school.”

He rubbed his palms together nervously, the motion indicating he was trying to gather his thoughts. “She called it off, said she couldn’t be with someone who lived so far away and didn’t even bother to spend time with her during his free time.”

This revelation was surprising; the charismatic Elias that you’d known seemed worlds apart from the person now struggling with heartache. Sure, you’d once seen glimpses of his life—his father’s strict nature and the pressure it placed on him—but you had always envisioned him as someone who could easily navigate relationships. You remembered how he and Ebba had flirted like lovebirds all through middle school, seemingly immune to the challenges of distance. But now, the cracks in that image were stark.

Feeling a surge of empathy, you wrapped your wing around him in a gesture of comfort, the warmth of your scales just a reminder that he wasn’t alone. “I care about you, Elias, and despite everything that’s happening, you’re still my friend,” you said softly, making sure he felt the sincerity in your words.

He looked at you with a flicker of gratitude, and a small smile broke through the bitterness of the moment. “Thank you,” he replied, a weight lifting slightly from his shoulders.

You knew what it was like to be torn between love and the complications of life, a feeling that had been heightened since Anakin had left. Yet, here was Elias, revealing his vulnerability and holding a space for you amidst your own struggles.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, feeling the unsteady ground beneath both of you. “About Ebba? Or how you’re feeling?”

Elias hesitated, searching your eyes for understanding. “It’s just… I didn’t expect it to hurt this much,” he confessed, his voice lowering as he opened up. “We were good together, or at least I thought we were. I just miss the connection we had.”

You nodded, listening intently as he shared the depths of his heart. “It’s okay to feel lost, especially when things end abruptly. You’re allowed to grieve that connection,” you encouraged gently.

As he continued to talk, you both found solace in the shared experience of heartache, a bond forged amidst your individual struggles. And in that moment, beneath the sunlit sky, you realized that pain could often lead to deeper understanding and connection among friends—one that would carry you both through the uncertain times that lay ahead.

As you both stood up, the weight of the conversation lingered in the air, but there was a sense of shared healing in the vulnerability you had both shown. “Well, I’m heading back to class. Are you coming? It’s about to start soon,” Elias said, glancing down at his watch, urgency creeping into his voice.

You nodded, feeling a spark of determination flicker within you. “Yeah, let’s go.” The prospect of returning to class felt daunting yet oddly comforting. A part of you relished the distraction, knowing that school held the promise of structure, even in the chaos of your emotions.

As you ascended the stairs together, Elias fell into step beside you. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, each carrying the remnants of your earlier conversation, but grateful to have each other amid the noise of the world around you. The hall echoed with laughter and chatter, the vibrant energy of students hurrying to their classes, unaware of the struggles of those nearby.

“Listen,” Elias said after a moment, breaking the silence. “I know things are… complicated right now, but I don’t want this to affect our friendship. You mean a lot to me.” His sincerity wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension you had been feeling deep inside.

“You too, Elias,” you replied, glancing up at him. “Things have been tough, but it helps to know you’re here.” The friendship you shared offered a lifeline in a time when everything else felt uncertain.

You rounded a corner and approached your classroom, the door ajar and the faint sound of the teacher’s voice drifting into the hallway. Elias pushed the door open, and you stepped inside, the familiar setting momentarily pulling you away from your worries.

You settled into your seat as the teacher began a new lesson, a gentle reminder that life continued despite personal struggles. The rhythm of the class enveloped you, providing an anchor. Occasionally, you caught Elias’s eye across the room; he gave you a subtle nod of encouragement that sparked a smile on your face.

As the lesson progressed, though your heart still carried the weight of your feelings for Anakin, you found solace in the camaraderie with Elias, knowing that even in the darkness, there were glimmers of light—friendship, support, and the hope of brighter days.

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely!! i love your writing sm, was wondering if i could request poly! marauders x shy! reader!! like they try to fluster her whenever they can, maybe leading to smut? totally okay if not, just thought i’d ask, hope you’re well <3

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x shy!reader ♡ 625 words

“He-llo, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you walk into the boys’ dorm, and you know instantly that it’s going to be a trying afternoon. “Who gave you permission to look that good on a Tuesday, huh?”

You feel blood rush to your face, but you put all the severity you can into one word as you sit on Remus’ bed, far as you can get from your smirking boyfriend. “Quit.” 

You should have known it would only encourage him. Sirius arches one eyebrow, smile spreading like a blight across his pretty face. “Oh I see. Feeling bold today, are we? Wanna repeat that, pretty girl?” 

You don’t, actually. Your daily quota of boldness has hit its limit.

Sirius is downright gleeful at your silence. “Aw, come on. I love it when you boss me around, sweetheart. Moony, isn’t she cute when she tells us what to do?” 

“I wouldn’t know.” Remus’ voice is quiet behind you, lilting in that way it gets when he’s particularly amused. “She never does it with me.” 

James laughs from where he’s digging through his wardrobe, fishing out a pair of sweats to change into from his robes. “Only you, Pads. You’re the only one who pushes her that far.” 

“Mm, but she gives up too easily.” You can hear the pout in Sirius’ voice, can feel his stare boring into the top of your head, but you don’t look up from where you’ve begun picking your nails. 

“Hey.” Remus’ hand wraps around yours, shielding your fingertips from one another. You tense. “Don’t do that.” 

“Sorry,” you say, but the word is barely audible, barely more than breath. 

“What was that?” You can feel him shifting around you on the bed. When you still won’t look up, he slides to the floor, crouching in front of you to capture your eyes. “Look at me, darling.” 

You do, for the half of a second it takes for him to smirk, and then you realize his game, the sneaky bastard. You can feel your heartbeat in your face. You know you have to be red as a stop sign, but neither Remus or Sirius will heed you. 

You look to James, your softhearted angel, for help. Remus chuckles, hand flattening against the side of your knee to rub soothingly, but you know better than to fall for that now. After a few moments of silence, James glances over. His eyes soften into warm brown mush when he sees the plea on your face. 

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, forgoing his search for a shirt and opening his arms as he comes your way. “Are they being cruel?” 

You’re not ready to commit to slander, but you accept his hug readily. He steals you from Remus’ grasp, taking you into his hold and scrubbing a hand up and down your spine while he laughs. 

“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” he teases the other boys, palm steadfast on your back. “Ganging up on our poor girl like that.” 

“Hey, I just wanted her to know that she looks nice,” Sirius says, and without removing your face from James’ neck you can picture his don’t-shoot gesture. “Anyway, it seems like she got what she wanted in the end.” 

James’ laughter starts up again, a low rumble in his chest that has you tensing warily. “Ah, I think I understand,” he says, voice turning smooth as velvet. “You just wanted to feel me up while I’m shirtless, is that right, sweetheart?” 

You make a quiet, miserable sound, slumping against him despondently as his shoulders shake underneath you. 

“You little pervert,” James goes on, teasing tone at odds with the steady patting of his hand on your back. “Lucky for you I’m willing to be objectified, you freak.” 

[flyingspacewhale93]

Jing Yuan/AFAB!Reader pregnancy headcanon

CW: Pregnancy, childbirth, some spicy kissing but otherwise its sfw (Also might be a bit OOC but men crying is hot af)

No Beta I decided to yeet this out into the world

Word Count: 732

From the minute you announce your pregnancy to Jing Yuan he never leaves your side. His lips trail up and down your stomach. “My seed… your eggs...are creating new life.” He says in a reverent tone as tears fill his eyes. “It's a miracle.”

He is obsessed with the child growing inside of you. He reads pregnancy articles on his phone practically every night. “Look, from the minute our DNA joined cells have been growing and dividing inside you. They all joined together to create a little creature the size of a  small berry.” He kisses your stomach. “Even human fetuses can briefly grow fur and tails while in the womb.”

When that little creature causes you morning sickness, Jing Yuan is right by your side. “Easy, sweetheart. This trial will help our child grow.” He brings you a cup of water and a damp cloth for your face afterwards. “Your body is so strong for being able to support two lives at once.” 

“I don’t think I’m strong. I can barely smell food without puking most days.” You murmur weakly. “Just when will I be able to eat again?”

Jing Yuan is strict about your diet for the good of your baby. He has the medical staff recommend you the best prenatal vitamins and only cooks what would be healthy for them. Spicy foods are forbidden, a fact that makes you grumble. However when the pregnancy cravings arise, he lets you have whatever you wish within moderation. He constantly  checks the list of safe foods every time you are hungry.

“For such a lazy general, you sure monitor our health better than I do!” You joke.

“It is the duty of a general to make sure that his army is prepared for the battle ahead.” He smiles.

“It’s a battle to convince you to let me eat unhealthy food once in a while.” Your hand rests on your baby bump. “Still, I can’t believe our child is growing so fast.”

When Jing Yuan sees your child on the ultrasound and hears their heartbeat for the first time, he cries. He goes to every medical appointment with you and listens intently. When you do your exercises to prepare for labour, he helps you through them. Sometimes birds land near you while you work out and Jing Yuan lets them perch on his hand.

One night, you wake up crying from a bad dream. He sleepily places his arms around you as you sob. “I-I dreamed I-I grew fat and ugly and you didn’t love me anymore! You had them give me the ‘husband stitch’ and now I woke you up and made you sad!” You wail, tears falling down your cheeks.

Jing Yuan shushes you. “Sweetheart, being able to enter you is both a privilege and an honour. You don’t need to be tight for me to enjoy you. As for your body, well,” His lips draw close to your ear. “I find it even more sexy by the day.”

He marvels at every new change your body goes through, making sure to kiss every mark that he finds each night. “These marks remind me of rivers.” He murmurs. “Indeed, it's like I’m staring at a topographical map of you.” A devious smirk crosses his face. “Where would be a good spot for the general to attack? Here, or here?” The noise you let out from his kiss proves to be a direct hit.

Your baby gets read to everyday by him, often when he’s busy babyproofing the house. He recites stories seemingly off the top of his head. He wants your baby to grow up well read and compassionate.

“I wonder what our baby would choose for their path.” You say.

“No matter what they choose, I’d love them all the same.” He says.

When the Big Day finally comes, Jing Yuan is all action. He grabs the overnight bag that you two made together and races off to the medical center with you in his arms. He holds your hand through every contraction, humming little songs as you prepare to push. Jing Yuan is used to long sieges so he’s always alert. He encourages you to push strong and hard for his family. Finally, the baby takes their first cry and he smiles serenely with tears in his eyes. Jing Yuan whispers “May you be a thoughtful, strong leader.”

[venus-haze]

Bad Ritual (Vincent Sinclair x Reader)

Summary: Some pageant queens sit on parade floats. Being crowned Miss Ambrose requires you to get your hands a little dirty.  [This is an AU]

Note: Woman reader, but no other descriptors are used. Heavily inspired by The Wicker Man and Midnight Mass, as well as my own spin on St. Ambrose, who, among other things, is the patron saint of wax melters. Since this is a cult AU, please check the warnings before reading. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Emotional and spiritual manipulation, morally gray reader, religious sex negativity/sex shaming, elements of Catholicism, human sacrifice. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The stage lights threatened to melt your carefully applied makeup off. You held a wide smile for so long your cheeks ached. Your eyes nervously flitted about the crowd of Ambrose’s residents, just barely able to fill three-quarters of the movie theater for the event. When your gaze fell on Vincent in the front row, he gave you a small nod of encouragement that manifested butterflies in your already twisted stomach. Could you help being hopelessly in love with your best friend?

“After much deliberation by myself and the other judges,” Trudy began in her soft drawl, harsh on the edges from her decades-long smoking habit, “we agree without a doubt, the winner of the third Miss Ambrose contest is—“

The microphone screeched when Trudy spoke your name, and the dam broke, bringing about uncontrollable tears of joy and relief. The sound of cheers and applause filled the theater, almost dictating the rhythm of your heartbeat. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done if you lost. In the weeks prior to the competition, you craved victory so badly that it filled the marrow of your bones.

With tears blurring your vision, you made your way over to Trudy. She smiled, placing the ornate wax tiara on your head and satin sash reading ‘Miss Ambrose’ in glittering crimson lettering over your shoulder. She wrapped her arms around you in an unexpected hug.

“Congratulations,” she whispered. “You deserve it.”

Hardly able to utter your thanks, you attempted to compose yourself while she addressed the crowd again.

“I believe we can all agree that this young woman here exemplifies the qualities this community holds dear,” she said, her gaze shifting to you with pride evident in her features, leaving you overwhelmed at the praise of your community’s leader. “If you’d like to share a few words, honey, now’s your chance.”

You nodded, trembling as you stood in front of the microphone. “First, I wanna thank the judges, Ms. Trudy, Father Julian, and Ms. Louann for giving me such a great honor. I also wanna thank my parents for believing in me as much as they believe in this town. Most of all, I wanna say that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than Ambrose, and I just—“ the tears began to flow again, and you managed to get a hold of yourself long enough to add, “I’m so grateful to St. Ambrose for everything he’s done for us. I don’t feel worthy to represent him on his feast day, but I’ll do my best. Thank you.”

Taking a step back from the microphone, you smiled as Louann handed you a bouquet of flowers. Louann was the previous Miss Ambrose and as such had the privilege of serving on the judge’s panel to decide who her successor would be. You were sure she would’ve preferred her own daughter, but she wasn’t interested in competing, an oddly reclusive girl around your age you’d long since given up befriending. Since there were so few people in Ambrose, the pool of young women eligible for the coveted crown was small, and therefore the competition could only be held once every seven or so years. Besides the feast day of your town’s namesake patron saint, the Miss Ambrose competition was one of the most highly anticipated events around.

Being Miss Ambrose was a commitment, but one you’d taken on with pride. Besides helping lead the usual procession through town, you’d serve as an ambassador to the hundreds of tourists who flooded your small town to view the spectacle. Most importantly, you’d finally be allowed to attend the celebratory mass held the night of the Feast of St. Ambrose. You weren’t sure what exactly the criteria for attendance was, but being Miss Ambrose surely meant you were worthy enough to finally go.

You were too young to remember Ambrose being on the verge of ruin when the sugar mill shut down, but your parents never failed to remind you how Trudy convinced them and the other families that comprised your close-knit community to stay. Her unorthodox ideas of shifting the town’s economy to reflect that of its patron saint was risky, but it worked, and Ambrose had carved out a niche for itself in beekeeping, wax-melting, and the artistry associated with it. As such, she was the person everyone deferred to for just about everything. Her word uncontested law. And why not? You all had it pretty good in Ambrose compared to the horrors you’d heard of going on outside the town’s limits.

The festival’s celebrations brought in abundant tourists who would patronize your small town’s shops and businesses en masse. While you understood the importance of the tourism during the festival, you found the raucous way they acted almost disrespectful to St. Ambrose and the reverence he deserved for providing so much for you.

At the very least, photography wasn’t allowed in the church. It was there that the town’s offering to St. Ambrose was displayed, a wax figure, always carefully detailed to look almost indistinguishable from a real person. Tourists could marvel at the statue, but not document it. You didn’t care for them and how they seemed to regard you all as sideshow freaks for being so insular. It especially bothered you that Vincent had to wear his mask whenever they were around. You’d hear them whisper about it, speculating why he wore it. They had no idea it was because of them.

Otherwise, he presented his bare face to your community who regarded it with normalcy. When your family would join the Sinclairs in the pew at mass, you’d occasionally end up sitting next to Vincent. You’d feel his hands, strong and soft from his work, holding the one next to you a little tighter than you normally would during the Our Father. For the sign of peace, in which you’d exchange blessings between clasped hands and chaste kisses on the cheek, he presented the unscarred half of his face to you. Still, you silently wondered what the other half would feel like against your lips.

It felt like you blinked, and you were surrounded by the people you’d grown up with, all looking at you with an unfamiliar yet welcome respect. You basked in the attention like a sunbathing snake, each compliment and affirmation filling your chest with a warm pride.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” your mother said, giving you a hug with tears in her eyes.

Your father agreed, giving you a pat on the back. “You earned it! We’re so proud of you.”

“Y’all did a great job with this one,” Trudy said.

Your family was one of the dozen or so original families that stayed in Ambrose at Trudy’s urging. She never forgot your family’s loyalty and trust in her, and it wasn’t uncommon for you to sit with them at mass or be invited to their house for a meal or a holiday. You reveled in any extra time you got to spend with Vincent, although being in the presence of your town’s savior always left you in awe.

“C’mon, a lot of that’s thanks to you, Trudy, mentoring the kids and teaching catechism on top of everything else you do,” your mother said.

While Father Julian was the parish’s pastor, most spiritual matters went to Trudy, and her decision was final. She taught catechism and set the standards for receiving sacraments. It caused friction with the larger diocese, and not long after you made your first communion, St. Ambrose’s parish split from the Vatican. Trudy had explained they lost their way, and that Ambrose was the only place practicing real Catholicism. That was why new families moved in, looking for the truth. You felt lucky to live in such a place.

“I’ve got big plans for you, girl,” Trudy said. “‘Specially with the festival coming up.”

You nodded. “Of course, Ms. Trudy. Whatever you need.”

She walked away, and you noticed Vincent subtly motioning toward the service exit behind the stage. 

“Ready to head home?” your mother asked.

“I’ll catch up. There are a few people I want to talk to first,” you said.

Your father nodded. “Alright, well, don’t stay out too late.”

Once they had left, you didn’t see Vincent in the theater anymore, and managed to slip outside undetected a few minutes later, fending off your horde of admirers. There was only one person whose attention you really wanted, anyway.

He stood outside, waiting for you in the shadows of the building. Your heels clicked against the asphalt as you walked over to him.

“Congrats, Miss Ambrose,” Vincent signed. He smiled, reaching up to adjust the tiara atop your head.

“I don’t look ridiculous, do I?”

He shook his head. Your face heated up when his hands made gentle contact with your skin. He traced your gestures with the pads of his thumbs, brushing your forehead, down to your cheeks, and finally to your lips. Vincent cradled your face in his hands for a moment longer before kissing you.

Without hesitation, you kissed him back, taking in the texture of his lips, the warmth of his body. His hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer. Steadying yourself on his bicep, you silently marveled at his strength, gasping into the kiss and allowing his tongue access to your mouth. 

Despite having heard homilies at mass and ramblings from Trudy about the sin of fornication outside of marriage, you didn’t know what exactly they were talking about until the summer after you started high school. Bo had taken pleasure in explaining the dirty details, offering to give you a demonstration. You rejected him in disgust at how lewd he made the act sound, and until then, in Vincent’s arms, you didn’t understand how anyone could fall into that trap. 

You whined softly when he pulled away from the kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he signed.

“Why did you wait?”

He nodded toward the door. His mother. For how similar he and Trudy were, they always seemed to butt heads. Still, he was the son she spoke most highly of. Vincent, the focused, dutiful son who’d inherited his mother’s artistic ability and connection to the spiritual core of the town. Her feelings on Bo changed with the weather, though it seemed he was poised to become the public face of Ambrose. A good fit, he could talk his way in or out of almost anything. Lester kept a lower profile, but he was always around to help whenever someone needed a hand. If you were being honest with yourself, you thought he was the best fit to take over Trudy’s leadership duties in Ambrose, but she always had a clear preference for the twins. 

With Vincent being Trudy’s favorite, she’d be incredibly selective about who his potential partner would be. All relationships in town had to be cleared by her. She’d shut people’s requests down for petty reasons. Now that you were Miss Ambrose, there was no reasonable way she could object to you being with Vincent.

“Maybe after the festival, we can ask her,” you whispered hopefully.

He nodded, though he practically jumped away from you when the door outside swung open, clanging against the brick wall behind it. 

Bo stood in the doorway, a knowing grin on his face, partially obscured by the shadows. “Lookit you. Bagged Miss Ambrose herself. Never thought you had it in ya, Vinny.”

“What?” Vincent signed.

“Mama’s lookin’ for y’all. I can tell her you’re busy.”

Vincent rolled his eye at Bo, “We’ll be right there.”

When the door slammed shut, Vincent kissed you again, more quickly this time, and the two of you set off to find Trudy. 

Still backstage, socializing of course, her time was a precious resource nearly everyone in town was vying for. The Miss Ambrose contest was as good of a time as any for people to catch a few minutes with her, bring up concerns or ask for advice while she was available. Her eyes lit up when she saw you and Vincent together. 

“Just the people I wanted to see,” she said, as if she hadn’t sent Bo searching for you. “Vincent’s gonna be making the offering for the festival this year, some other things too to help his old mama out. Can’t do as much as I used to. You’ll help around too, won’t you?”

“I’d love to. Anything you need, just tell me.” 

“You got a good head on your shoulders. Wouldn’t’ve dreamed of crownin’ those other two. Daphne had some nerve even competing after that stupid stunt she pulled last year,” Trudy spat.

The previous year, Daphne had publicly challenged Trudy on a new directive regarding new families that moved into town and their church attendance. It was an innocent enough remark, but the principle of the thing got to Trudy. She was spiteful and vindictive, one to hold a mean grudge, but you supposed those traits were necessary to be a leader like she was. 

“Then that Christine’s a hussy. Tried to make my Bo stumble.”

You had a sinking feeling it was the other way around, and Bo had sold his mama some backwards story after his advances were spurned. You once heard someone say he could flirt the panties off of a nun. Not entirely untrue, but he was too impatient and entitled to accept anything other than complete compliance with his sexual desires. 

“I’m sure you’re not surprised Louann’s daughter didn’t bother. Might’ve given you a run for your money,” she said, looking almost unimpressed by you for a split second.

“Well, I guess we’ll never know,” you said. “I can’t tell you enough how much this means to me.”

“You deserved it, honey. Gonna be a lot of work for you the next few weeks, but I think you can handle it.”

She shooed you away, telling you to go home before it got too dark. You almost laughed. In your small community, everyone knew each other. You were just as safe walking around at 2pm as 2am. Nothing bad ever happened in Ambrose. At least, not like the horrors of the outside world you’d gleaned from the few times you bothered to watch the nightly news. All it did was confirm how lucky you were to live in a place like Ambrose, where you wanted for nothing and had few worries, didn’t have to fear what could be lurking in the dark.

“I’ll walk her home,” Vincent volunteered.

Trudy nodded. “Good. You give my parents my best, now.”

“Of course, have a good night,” you said.

When you were a safe distance from the movie theater, far from wandering eyes, Vincent took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the top of it. The walk to your house would be short, but you wished for miles more to spend walking alongside him. Alone. He stole half a dozen more kisses from you while the two of you dragged out the walk to your front porch. If not a kiss, then his hands would be on you–the small of your back to guide you along or intertwined with yours as his thumb brushed soft circles on the top of your hand.

“I’m not going to see much of you for a while, am I?” you asked softly as your house finally came into view.

He shook his head. From what you understood, the offering was the most important part of the Feast of St. Ambrose. He’d already gotten lost in his work, whether additions to the wax museum or personal projects, but something so crucial would be sure to consume him until the day arrived.

A sad smile spread across your lips, though you understood. 

The next few days, you didn’t see much of Trudy or Vincent, instead helping around town with the various preparations for the Feast of St. Ambrose. You decorated the statue in the middle of town, an elaborate wax effigy of the patron saint, created by Trudy herself. As you covered it with carefully crafted floral wreaths and vines, people already began leaving small offerings at the base of the statue.

Just before the festival, you found time to visit Vincent, basking in the warmth of his studio, practically a furnace. Opera music grew louder as you approached. You’d spent time with him down there before, able to find your way from any of the subterranean entrances throughout town. 

Either the music was too loud, or he was too entranced in his work to notice you enter. His broad back was turned to you as he leaned over a work table in deep focus. A woman. Nude, bound to the table yet seemingly unable to move otherwise. Still you heard them through her gag. Her moans. Vincent’s hands were all over her body, caressing her curves with care, fingers tracing her features. A blinding envy flashed through you. 

“Vincent,” you snapped.

He turned around, shock that quickly twisted to rage. “What are you doing here?” he signed. “Get out!”

“No! Who is she?”

“It’s not what you think—“

“I’m Miss Ambrose!” you shouted. “Me! What does she have that I—“

“She’s the offering,” he signed.

You froze, your gaze shifting to the bound woman once more. “That’s not–you’re lying.”

“Why would I lie?”

“You’re going to kill her?”

He nodded. Her muffled screams grew louder. “The offering is killed and then encased in wax for St. Ambrose.”

No wonder photos weren’t allowed in the church during the festival. He eyed you cautiously, expecting you to run away screaming.

“Can I watch you do it?”

He hesitated. 

“Please, Vincent?” you asked softly. 

“I just don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“For doing what’s right? For making sure we’re provided for? We’re not messed up. The rest of the world is.”

With a newfound confidence, he grabbed the knife on the tray next to the bound woman, and you watched in awe as he lifted his arm above her chest and swiftly plunged it perfectly through her heart. Before he could pull the knife from her still warm flesh, you placed your hand over his and dug the blade in a little deeper.