#And then foggy being like ‘you have a kid now just accept it’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

banj0possum · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I love your stuff, you’re a really good writer! Take your time if you ever get to this, don’t burn yourself out.

The scenario is a delusional yandere childhood friend/monster. Like the reader found it in the woods as a kid and they grew up playing until the reader had to move away. Now years later, the reader is back..and the monster thinks it has a mate again.

Imaginary More-Than-Friends

Yandere! Imaginary Childhood Bestfriend x GN Reader

an: I believe the few people will recognize this guy from my old posts, i figured i let him out of my little toy box of characters huehuehue. i have to say though that i'm very much attached to this one and i will not be accepting nsfw requests of this character in the future! sorry if its not really what you asked for though ._." i was a bit excited when i saw your request

CW: Coulrophobia, delusional yan, this one is a bit more intense than normal, kidnapping kind of, possessive themes

🦋 You have vague memories of your old house. Memories of playing around in your old room and the faint sounds of cicadas and rustling leaves from outside your bedrooms window felt like a blur.

🦋 The clearest memory of your childhood there was playing around in the woods by your backyard. You had a small clubhouse somewhere in the thicket of trees and other flora. It was a small red tent full of flower ornaments that you've weaved and little trinkets you found while exploring.

🦋 You also remember there being someone else in the woods with you every time you played, although you don't remember any neighbors with kids when you were younger. Even then you have foggy memories of talking to someone very close to you.

🦋 You feel the truck you're riding in turn a corner and you look up to see your old family house slowly appearing from behind autumn-colored trees.

🦋 As soon as the moving truck came to a stop, you opened the door after thanking the driver and got your bags, taking a good look at the large house in front of you.

🦋 The paint was chipping and most of the metal decor was rusting, but you can fix them up as soon as you move in. Your family had to move out pretty quickly for some unknown reason so you figured many of the things that were left were still there.

🦋 Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you could have sworn you heard scurrying from inside the house, must have been an animal that got in from a window or something.

🦋 Somehow, the house didn't seem very dusty, even though it's been sitting unoccupied for years. The floor looks swept to an extent with piles of leaves looking to have been swept lazily to the sides of the rooms.

🦋 You wandered through the house, your memories coming back to you about the times you spent with your parents, all the while, you can hear faint scratching and thumping as you walk.

🦋 The tall figure skittered around house, watching you wander around from the corners with an unblinking stare. He couldn't believe it. You were here, you're back! And you're so much bigger than you were all those years ago...you look so beautiful now! A toothy grin widens on his face as his claws scratched the doorframe he was gripping, leaving deep scratches.

🦋 As you enter your old room, you see that the dusty bed still looks made, like it's been waiting for someone to sleep in it for years. Old toys with ribbons of your favorite color tied to their necks or wrists sat in their places by a fogged windowsill as paper cranes and insects on string and glow in the dark stars still hung on your ceiling.

🦋 Just as you were about to leave to get your things moved in, you hear your old closet creak open. You freeze and turn to it, it looked like there wasn't anything inside. You wait a bit before fucking off, not wanting to deal with any ghouls or the like at the moment...

🦋 The figure then breathes a sigh of relief as soon as you're out of earshot. It pushes itself out of the closet and onto the floor. Soon you will see each other, he promises. He just has to find the right time...

🦋 You'd find items missing and reappearing in strange places sometimes, it could've been just you forgetting where you placed them, but there's no way you could have misplaced your shoes in the sink or your sweater outside your window...

🦋 You'd also notice food that was left out being eaten, not by ants or rodents though, the bite marks were too large.

🦋 You weren't some dumb character in a horror movie, you could see the tell-tale signs of a haunting, but you didn't want to let go of the house, not after all the years of trying to buy it back and all the money you put into renovating it.

🦋 Your mind was put at ease somewhat when you found a group of raccoons rummaging through your trashcans next to a window with a broken window, they could've just been messing with your stuff and eating your food while you weren't looking. You took note that you had to fix the locks soon.

🦋 After a few tiring days of getting everything cleaned up and moving in your stuff, you look at your hard work and smile. Your furniture gave the home your own personal touch while still keeping the nostalgic charm of your childhood home. You sigh in satisfaction and decide to go out and get some fresh air.

🦋 You exit through your backyard door and, from what you can see, the woods hasn't changed a bit since you left. It made you smile knowing you personal little playground hasn't wasted away. You then remember your old hideout. A wave of memories come back to you as you rush to where you remember the little red fort was.

🦋 To your surprise, the tent was still up, in fact, you could see no sign of aging on it. No damage from rain or wind or anything, it's like it was frozen in time. You walk up to it, crouching down and lifting the red embroidered curtains of the entrance and revel in the little items that withstood the years it has been left here.

🦋 Although, you notice there being more things than you remember. Did you really collect all these thing when you were younger? There were bottles of soda can tabs and acorns, figurines of animals carved out of wood, were those animal bones??

🦋 You back away from the tent, very much weirded out by the new additions to your old hang out spot when suddenly, your body bumps into something. It felt thin like a tree but soft like a plush toy with burlap for the cover. Your eyes go wide as you hear a voice from above you. "(Y/N)?"

🦋 The familiar jingle of bells sparked something in you as you look up to meet the creature's porcelain face.

🦋 You stare at the figure like it would disappear if you look away from it as you step back to look at it better.

🦋 It was a clown, a tall one at that. Its white pupils stayed on you as you can see razor sharp teeth within its mouth. His limbs looked almost jointless like how a plush toy would look. It's clothes were brown and dirty from years of neglect.

🦋 What you were seeing wasn't human, it couldn't be human. It was too freakishly tall to be one. You didn't know what to do, running could provoke it to chase you and attacking could anger it.

🦋 Suddenly, it steps closer to you and bends down, you could feel its breath on your face, it unusually smelled like candycorn.

🦋 Then it chuckles, giving you a grin before suddenly picks you up and wraps its long arms around you, spinning around happily like a child holding their new toy.

🦋 "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Oh I'm so happy to see you again! You've grown so much! Where did you go? What did you see? Did you...make any new friends?"

🦋 It pulls away from you and stops spinning only to see a terrified expression on your face. His smile drops and cocks his head to the side. "(Y/N)? Are you okay?" The bells on its jester hat jingle softly.

🦋 As your shock melts away, you figure he didn't have any intention of harming you and you try and catch your breath. Your eyes then catch a glimpse of ribbons tied around his wrists. It was your favorite color.

🦋 Your slowly look back up to the clown and you finally remember your old friend that you used to play with.

🦋 You had a favorite toy amongst your collection of stuffed animals and dolls. It was a strawberry pink clown with stretchy arms, you used to carry it around with you all the time. From the moment you wake up to going back to sleep, you had it with you. You named it..

🦋 "Hallow?"

🦋 The clown perks up at the name and its smile widens even more. "So you remember! Hahah! I was beginning to think you forgot all about me!" "Y-you're real?! I mean you were- but- h-how is this possible?!"

🦋 Hallow puts you down and gives you a confused look, pointing a finger to his cheek. "Real? Of course I'm real! I'm your best friend!" He giggles, spinning around joyfully.

🦋 "And I...left you here.." "Oh I don't mind! I'm sure you had a reason! Besides, you're here now and we can play again! And we can be together!" He takes your hands into his and squeezes them, his grip a bit shaky. Well, at least it won't be so lonely out here anymore...

🦋 From there, Hallow kept you company, he would help you out in fixing up the exterior of the house and tell you all about what's happened since you left.

🦋 "I saw a reeeaaallly big bear once! He looked all tubby and fluffy and stuff! I tried petting it but it bit my arm off! So rude right? At least I knew how to sew my arm back! Thanks for teaching me how by the way!"

🦋 He's a bit clingy, but he does give you space if you ask him. and by give you space i mean he just stares at you from the corner of the room instead of hovering over you the whole time.

🦋 He wasn't a fan of other people though, if ever a friend of yours visits or a delivery person drops by, he'd disappear in a flash, when they finally leave, he's unusually quiet until to ask if he was alright. When you turn away from him, his forced smile drops down to a sneer, thinking about the strange person that was trying to take you away from him...

🦋 Then one day, a friend of yours called and told you they were in the area and wanted to meet up with you. Hallow watched as you happily talked to your phone from the gap between your door, scratching the wood in jealousy. Who was making you so happy (Y/N)? Only he's supposed to make you laugh like that...

🦋 When your friend came, he disappeared once again. He watched you greet your 'friend' with a hug, being awfully touchy with them, holding their hand as you guide them to your couch.

🦋 He hated it, he hated them. He hated you happy you looked as you two laughed together. He wished it was him who was making you laugh, not this stranger. Infact, what made you think they were to be trusted? Wasn't it other people that made you leave him in the first place? Your dreaded parents were the reason you were taken from him, what makes you think your "friend" won't do the same. Before you know it, you could be taken back to the city, stressed and overwhelmed and away from him, your best friend, your only friend, your soulmate!

🦋 His spiraling thoughts were quickly interrupted by your friend getting up from their seat. "Alright, it's getting late..where's that mall again?" "Oh, you just turn right from the second street over." "Ok! I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon!" noon?

🦋 The door closes, and you hear the jingling of bells behind you. "Do you have to hide every time there's someone else he-" Your joking comment is cut off when you turn and he's looming dreadfully over you.

🦋 "What mall?" "H-huh?" He's glaring daggers into your eyes, taking a step closer to you as you back up, unease growing inside of you.

🦋 "What's at noon?" "H-hallow we're just going out-" "How long?" "H-how long?? I don't kno-" "Hours? Days? Years?" You're backed up against the wall, the giant clown's arms at either side of you, trapping you under him as black drool drips down his snarling mouth.

🦋 "How long are you gonna leave me this time huh? How many days am I gonna wait for you to come back to me?!" "Hallow stop you're scaring me!" "I'm supposed to be my best friend! Not them!" He snaps at you, making you flinch in fear. His glare softens then turns into a horrified expression. Pulling his hands back closer to him shakily as you shivered in front of him, your arms hiding your face. He lets out a quiver before stepping away from you. You lower your arms and he was gone, you can hear banging and thumping from upstairs.

🦋 The next day, you were getting ready for your outing with your friend. Hallow didn't show up that day. You weren't used to the silence that was left.

🦋 You haven't seen Hallow in a few days, but you always let out food for him. He was hurt, you can tell, but it was clear he needed space at the moment, you just hoped he didn't do anything rash as you went to bed a week after your fight with the clown.

🦋 You woke up the next day, expecting Hallow not to come out again. You get up from your bed and head downstairs. Calling out Hallow's name, no answer.

🦋 You sigh and figure you should get some much-needed fresh air. The tension that has built up in the house was almost suffocating to you. You went to your backdoor to spend some time outside.

🦋 But when you tried to open the door, it wouldn't turn. You tried unlocking it, but the lock wouldn't budge. You pulled and shook it but to avail. You groan and try to open a window instead, but the latch was shut tight. You tried the other windows but none of them opened. You started to freak out when you hear a jingle of bells behind you.

🦋 "H-Hallow? Why are the all the windows shut? The door's locked too!" You look to him, but he looked off. His normal wide-eyed smile was replaced with a half-lidded grin. He swayed side to side, clasping his hands together as he giggled. "Hello, you~"

🦋 "H-hey...what's going on?" You ask him, sweat rolling down the side of your head nervously.

🦋 "Well, I thought about what you said and I realized! You're not at fault here! You just want someone to be with! And I guess me being your friend wasn't good enough for you so you turned to someone else! I know you didn't mean to hurt me lovely, but I can change for you! I can be much more than a best friend! We can be like those knights and princesses in your storybooks, remember?"

🦋 He starts walking up to you, you hold onto the countertop behind you as he rambles on in a lovesick haze. "H-Hallow?"

🦋 "You won't need anyone else (Y/N)! You'll just need me from now on! We'll be together forever! Oh and don't worry about food and stuff, I can get you those!"

🦋 He chuckles, before pulling you into an uncomfortably tight hug, you flinch as you feel him kiss your neck and cheek, his sharp teeth grazing your skin ever so gently.

🦋 "You'll never have go away ever again, my f-...my love~"

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atlafan · 1 year ago

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This is the teacher that kids either love or hate, there’s no in between. Mr. Styles has his quirks, and according to your niece, you either get him or you don’t. The annoying thing is, Mr. Styles teaches all of the science electives like astronomy, astrophysics, forensic science, marine science, zoology, and meteorology. These aren’t required courses, but they’re only a semester long. After completing biology, students can either take a full year of chemistry and a full year of physics, or they can do a full year of chemistry or physics, and two science electives. Or they can do four science electives.

Mr. Styles also is the only AP Chemistry and AP Physics teacher. There’s really no avoiding him. Some students accept this, and others continue to live in denial.

Many students know their strengths and passions. They were made to be scientists. Your niece, who loves science, is taking as many courses as possible to help herself out for college later on. She’s in AP Chemistry with Mr. Styles, as well as forensic science. Your niece loved Mr. Styles until he gave her an F for missing an exam. She had been out sick. She had a note from her doctor and everything! Your niece blubbered to you about it.

You know Mr. Styles. You work at the same school as Mr. Styles. You’re the music teacher. You typically avoid Mr. Styles. You’re in a completely different area of the school. Many students complain about him, but just as many praise him. But this time it’s personal. He made your niece cry, at school! You told her she could stay in your office for a bit to calm down. You were marching your way to Mr. Styles’ classroom. You didn’t care if he was teaching. You were going to barge in.

When you get to his door, you see him sitting at his desk through the little window. It’s a prep period. When you giggle the handle of the door, it doesn’t turn. So, you pound on the door with your fist while Mr. Styles takes his sweet time coming to open it.

“Miss-“

“Don’t even address me right now, I’m too mad.”

“I don’t think I know you well enough for you to be venting to me about something.” He says as he closes the door. “But I guess I can listen since I have time.”

“I’m here because you’re being an asshole to my niece. She missed school because she was sick and you wouldn’t let her makeup a test. That’s against school policy.”

“Not with AP courses.” He crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but feel frazzled at his attire. The dichotomy of him wearing a Disney shirt about love while he’s scowling is is almost comical. “If a student is sick on the day of the exam, then that’s it. They fail. They don’t get to try again.”

“How is she going to get into a good school if she has an F on her transcript?!”

“She’s not going to fail the class. She knew I had a strict policy. Also, I put out exam dates well in advance. She knew what day it was going to be.”

“She was sick!”

“Was she vomiting uncontrollably? Was she coughing up blood? Was she bed ridden? If the answer is no to any of those, then she could have come in to take the exam.”

“Right, so then she could get all of the other kids sick?”

“Masks are a thing. Plenty of students still wear them in the classroom. She could have come in for the exam and then left afterwards. Why do you care so much? You’re not her legal guardian. Her parents haven’t emailed or called to complain. At the mandatory parents meeting I run at the beginning of the school, I make it clear to the parents that I am strict for a reason.”

“My sister and brother-in-law haven’t called to complain because they don’t know about any of this. She came crying to me because she has no idea how to tell them because she knows she’s going to be asked if she knew it was an exam day. Which she completely forgot because she was sick and her brain was foggy.”

“She’ll have opportunities to make up her grade. Her participation counts for a lot and she’s always participating.”

“You don’t understand mental instability these overachievers have. I’ve seen that girl cry over an A-. Shooting her in the stomach would hurt less than getting a bad grade. Do you get off on being a dick?”

“You know what? This is my prep period, and I was busy.”

“Yeah, your door was locked.” You scoff.

“I always lock it. I don’t like when people filter in and out during my prep.”

“What if a student had an emergency and needed you?! Why are you even a teacher if you don’t care about students?! Do you have any idea how hard these kids have it? They don’t even teach them how to use computers anymore! No one knows how to touch type! Everyone assumes they have it easy, but they don’t. A lot of kids come to school because it’s better than being at home. You making it worse for them is a real turn off. I know you have students that adore you, but you also have students that would love the opportunity to spit in your food.”

“Are you done?”

“That depends, do you understand the points I’ve made?”

“Yes. You were very clear.”

“Are you going to take what I said into consideration as you’re teaching?”

“No.”

“You’re a fucking prick.”

“And you’re…” His eyes go up and down, checking her out. “It’s a good thing your room is on the other side of the school.” He shakes his head.

“Why? Afraid I’ll spit in your food?”

“No, in fact, I’d welcome your spit. I’d like it preferably in my mouth, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He shrugs and sits down at his desk.

Your mouth is agape. Did he really just say that to you?

“Are you serious?”

“Very.” He stands back up and saunters over to her. “If you’d like to cuss me out some more, could we do it over dinner?”

“I…”

“You never gave me a chance to take you out a few years ago. Remember that night we were both at that bar?”

“I do.” You nod as you blush. “But that was a mistake. I had a boyfriend…”

“Do you still?”

“No.”

“Alright, well, I would love to be in your presence again while you’re all fired up. Are you free Saturday night?”

“Pick me up at seven.”

“I’ll make a reservation somewhere I know we’ll be secluded so you can yell at me some more.”

“Stop talking before I change my mind.” You say and storm out of his classroom.

While you were teaching your sixth period choral class, Harry was teaching his forensic science class. Your niece got there a few minutes early to talk to Mr. Styles as he stood outside the class to greet the other students coming in.

“So…did it work?” She asked quietly.

“Like a charm.”

“She said yes?!”

“Mhm.” He grinned. “You must have put on quite the performance. She was really angry.”

“If you thought that made her angry, wait until she inevitably finds out that we worked together to trick her.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

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fettuccin-e · 2 years ago

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The Wonderful Way Things Change

A/N: hi there everyone... shamefully, very shamefully, I have not posted anything original since i think like february. it was an unplanned hiatus! promise it was completely unplanned, this semester just really kicked my ass lol. BUT HERE WE ARE! with matt smut of course how could I not because he is the loml so please enjoy! love you!

Description: Based off this ask, and can be read as a loose sequel to this (my first ever fanfic oh boy oh boy). In which Foggy calls you to check in on Matt, and the sight of your boyfriend all disheveled in a suit is making you a tad desperate. Thankfully, neither of you have the self-control to keep your hands to yourselves.

Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, afab!fem!reader, no use of y/n, smut like so much smut who do you think I am, fucking Matty in a suit, oral (f!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids) (w/c: 2.5K)

Yours and Matt’s relationship is new, somewhat, but you both know that it’s been a long time coming. It’s only been a few weeks since he finally kissed you for the first time, since he healed your poor, pining heart. It’s not like other relationships you’ve had, with the talking stage at the beginning, where you’re still asking each other about your childhoods, favorite movies, and songs. You and Matt already know everything about each other.

He knows about your shitty job that you hate but manages to pay the bills. He knows all about your childhood, all of your hopes and dreams. Up until a few weeks ago, the only secret you’d kept from him was your frankly ridiculous crush on him.

But you know that it’s the same way for him. You already know about Daredevil, and to Matt’s unending surprise, you accept him, love him for who he is. You don’t want him to give up either side of himself; you’re happy to just have him. Matt is still trying to get used to the feeling of actually having you, instead of just being by your side, letting you slip through his fingers.

Up until a few weeks ago, Matt had resigned himself to only being your friend. The friendship he’d found in you at Columbia would remain just that. Unbeknownst to him, you’d resigned yourself the exact same way. But a misunderstanding and a frustrated and ridiculously dramatic love confession later, you’d finally kissed him like he’d only dreamed of. You’d allowed him to touch you like he’d always wanted, and Matt could swear that he’s never felt anything softer, never tasted anything sweeter than you.

So the relationship is new, but it also feels like you and Matt have just been waiting, settling into routines like you’ve been together for years. You know how Matt is, how he’ll bury himself into cases and recordings and court documents, searching for that one bit of evidence that proves his client is innocent. He sends Foggy and Karen home on nights like these, insisting that they need to sleep, that they work too hard as is.

“He’s gonna be there for hours,” Foggy tells you over the phone. “You’ve gotta get him out of there or he’s going to collapse.” You laugh, pulling on your coat and stepping out of Matt’s apartment.

Ever since you had both confessed your feelings for each other, and Matt had finally, finally taken you to bed, you had more or less moved in. It hadn’t been intentional, nor had Matt officially asked you, but the one time you had broached the subject of maybe sleeping at your own apartment, Matt’s arms had wrapped around you, holding you to him while he pressed desperate kisses all over your face and neck, telling you that his apartment was so cold without you there.

“C’mon, sweetheart, haven’t we spent more than enough time apart?” he had murmured, and you had agreed.

“Yeah, alright Fog, I’m heading over there now. I’ll make sure you have a well-rested partner by tomorrow,” you giggle into the phone, and you laughed even harder at Foggy’s genuine sigh of relief.

“Christ, how did Nelson, Murdock and Page survive without you and Matt together?”

“It’s truly a mystery, Foggy,” you tease, and Foggy laughs with you. He keeps you on the phone the entire walk to their office building, filling you in on the cases he, Karen, and Matt are working on. You could talk to Foggy for hours, really, but he lets you go as you walk up the steps to their offices. With a promise to talk soon, maybe take a trip to Josie’s, you hang up, shoving your phone into your coat pocket.

You can hear the recording Matt is listening to through the door to his office, some judge droning on and on. You enter the room quietly, heart beating wildly at Matt in his sharp suit, without his glasses, hair mussed from his fingers running through it the way they usually do when he’s working through a case. You watch as a smile blooms across his pretty lips, his eyes lifting to your direction as he pauses the recording.

“Hi, baby,” he says, and his sheer beauty in that moment nearly brings you to your knees. This man, with his hair sticking up in every direction, his tie slightly loosened at his chest, big brown eyes and wide smile is yours. All yours. You can’t help how your heart beats even harder at the thought.

You watch his grin meld into a knowing smirk as he listens to the quick pattering of your heartbeat. “Something got you worked up, sweetheart?”

You hum, crossing the room to where he sits in his office chair. “Oh, you know,” you drawl, trying to keep your voice coy and light, even though you know that your heart is giving away your sudden desperation for the man in front of you. “I’m just thinking about all of the things I get to do now.”

“To me?” He’s playing coy too, trying to goad you.

“Always to you, Matty,” you giggle, and he chuckles in return. You swing a leg over his lap, straddling him and relishing in how his chuckle morphs into a choked gasp.

“What- What kinds of things, gorgeous?” his voice is breathier now, beautifully affected by your actions.

“Just how I can do things like this,” you wrap your hand into his tie, tugging him towards your mouth. “And things like this-” you breathe over his mouth, before capturing his pretty, enticing lips with your own.

Matt groans into the kiss, smoothing his hands over your hips before reaching behind you to grab your ass in his big, thick hands, tugging you further up his lap. Your clothed pussy rests just over the bulge of his cock through his slacks, and you can feel it thickening beneath you.

“And you call me worked up, Matty?” you murmur against his mouth, wiggling in his lap and pulling a soft moan from his lips.

“When my gorgeous girlfriend walks into my office, smelling like my apartment and so fucking soft on top of me,” he says, squeezing your ass again, “how can you expect me to be calm, baby?”

Your stomach bursts into butterflies at the title. You’re his girlfriend. He’s your boyfriend. It feels so very juvenile, like you’re twenty years old again and still trying to get through calculus class. Maybe it’s because you’ve been waiting that long. Waiting for him, since you first met him and Foggy at Columbia. It feels so far away now, so different, and yet, you still burn bright and warm with Matt’s attention on you. Calling you his girlfriend.

He shifts his hips under yours, the bulge of his thick cock against your pussy impossible to ignore, and you whine, just barely, but Matt hears. Of course he does.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “So fucking needy.” He lurches forward again to press his lips to yours, licking into your mouth.

“Please, Matty,” you whisper, and he groans into your mouth all over again. He doesn’t separate his mouth from yours as he lifts you against him, using a hand to brush the cumbersome documents and files off the desk behind you, before laying you softly against it, running his hands over your waist and kissing you like you’re something precious.

But you are, Matt knows that you are the most precious thing in the fucking world. And you want him. Matt can hardly believe it sometimes; he still sometimes thinks he’s dreaming when he feels you in the morning, pressed tight against him, your heart calm and steady with sleep.

He licks into your mouth like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and what a way to go. He could stay in this moment forever, kissing you while your hands tangle into his hair. But your sexy little whines are echoing around him, your hips moving in desperate little circles against the aching bulge in his slacks.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers, and you just whine louder. It’s a nearly painful thing, taking his lips from yours, but he can fucking smell your arousal, and the need to dive between your thighs is suddenly too much for him to handle.

You kind of want to cry when Matt breaks your kiss, but your mourning at the loss of his lips is quickly cut short by his thick, calloused hands pushing your skirt up your thighs, leaving the material to bunch around your waist. He nudges his nose against your clit through your panties, taking a deep breath in through his nose, savoring it, and you nearly black out.

“Oh- oh my God,” you stutter, and Matt smirks in that ridiculously cocky way you hate that you love.

“I mean, I go by Matt, but if you want to call me God-” Matt starts, tugging your panties down your legs.

“Matthew Michael Murdock, I swear-” You want to continue, you really do, but it’s really hard to keep your train of thought when Matt is leaning down and licking a long stripe up your soaked pussy, swirling around your clit and making your hips buck up uncontrollably. He quickly braces a forearm over your twitching body, holding you still with his strength while he eats your pretty cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, gorgeous,” he mutters between your thighs, the vibrations feeling like shockwaves up your spine. “So pretty, baby, could’ve been eating this pretty cunt since college.”

You can barely form a sentence, only able to utter out whines of Matt, Matt Matt, between desperate moans as he licks into you. You can feel him grinning into your cunt, knowing he’s driving you fucking crazy, before he’s drawing up to capture your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks. He brings his free hand up to sink a thick finger into your needy entrance, crooking it up and pressing into a spot inside that makes white creep into the edges of your vision. He just sucks and sucks, swirling his tongue around our achy clit and playing with you like a toy.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, unexpected and brutal, and you would have thrashed off the desk if it weren’t for Matt’s strong arms holding you steady. He carries you through it, licking at you softly while he keeps his finger inside, giving your pussy something to clutch onto. As your hips finally stop twitching, Matt rises, leaning over you again, and you can’t help but tug at his tie again, dragging his mouth to yours, uncaring of the taste of your pussy covering his lips.

“Please fuck me, Matty, oh god, please. Need you in me, baby,” you whine, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed at how needy you sound. Matt groans, sounding just as desperate as he licks into your mouth. He takes his hands from your body to reach down, undoing his belt and slacks just enough to tug his aching cock out. He’s so hard it’s nearly painful, the head sticky and red and throbbing with the need to fuck you. To claim you.

You wrap your arms over his back, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as he sinks into your sensitive pussy. As he finally bottoms out, you lean back to look at him, at his big eyes staring just off your face, his mouth slightly agape.

“I thought about this, y’know,” you whisper, your nails digging into his back as he presses just a bit deeper inside. “Every time I brought you guys lunch, I-” you moan softly as Matt thrusts, hard and so fucking deep you swear you swear you can feel him in your guts. “I thought about you, fucking me on this desk, in-in this fucking suit, god, Matt.”

“Shit, baby,” he grunts, rocking into you so hard the desk rattles beneath you. You can barely pay attention to it, not when the tip of Matt’s thick cock is grinding into the spot inside you that makes you scream, your nails digging into the soft fabric covering his back. “I thought about you too, god, you have no idea, sweetheart.” You can only whine in response as he continues, “You’d bring us all lunch, wearing your little uniform, fuck, with that pretty skirt and those heels.”

Matt’s hands tighten over your hips, forcing you to meet him thrust for thrust, and it’s so fucking good. You can’t manage to answer him through your desperate whines of his name and choked moans as his thick cock stretches you out for him, but Matt’s still talking. You don’t know if he can stop.

“I could hear your thighs brushing together under that tight fucking skirt, your heels clicking up the hall, and all I could think about was ruining you. Ripping that skirt off you and making you beg for my cock,” he grunts, driving desperately into your soaked pussy. Your head is swimming, drowning in Matt’s words, his scent, his cock.

“Now I can, baby,” he grunts, voice breaking on a choked moan. “I can fuck you just how I’ve wanted, make this pretty pussy soak my cock. Can wake up to you in my bed, fuck you whenever I want, whenever you want, baby, fuck I’m yours. You hear me, angel? I’m yours.” Matt can feel your pussy fluttering desperately around his cock, and snakes a hand between your bodies to press a thumb over your clit.

He leans over you, his tie loose and dangling over your face as he growls, “and you’re mine. Mine.”

And you’re gone, pussy tightening like a vice around Matt’s thick cock, screaming his name. Little tears escape your eyes, dripping down your cheeks as Matt groans your name in return, hips stuttering into yours and flooding your overwhelmed pussy with his cum. You can hear him, just barely, through the roar of blood in your ears as he whispers, “So good, baby, so perfect. Love you so much, so much, you have no idea. I love you, loved you for so fucking long, angel.”

You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers into his soft hair, bringing him to your lips, whispering a soft “I love you so much, Matty,” in return before meeting him in a soft kiss. His smile against your mouth is blinding, endlessly joyful, and slightly delirious.

He’s still buried inside you a few minutes later, when you finally whisper, “I’m not sure this is what Foggy had in mind when he sent me over here.”

“If this is what Foggy had in mind, I might have to send him a fruit basket, or buy him a round,” Matt chuckles, and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before you’re laughing too. Matt smiles, unable to believe that you’re his, before he cuts your giggling off with a loving kiss.

#hey I'm back #with daredevil smut #what else did you expect #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock smut #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil fanfiction

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trans-pickles · 2 months ago

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idea that i've been brewing but probs won't have time to write but based off my terrible kieran was part of the gang/it was the o'driscolls that killed eliza and isaac - isaac lives but is raised as an o'driscoll with a sort of paternal relationship with kieran and tries to rescue him from the vdls - which is when arthur finds out he's alive. kieran and arthur awkwardly forced into co-parenting situation and fall in love along the way

tbh it makes sense to me, from what kieran says in game colm is no stranger to pressing prisoners into service. love the idea that it's almost this dark mirror of arthur's situation with dutch, where colm would act like isaac is a son to him but only when he really needs something from him which is actually almost exactly like dutch oops but it's this sort of implicit threat that with the o'driscolls, you pull your weight and make yourself useful, otherwise, you know...

isaac doesn't exactly have anywhere to go so when kieran "joins" he immediately finds a kindred spirit. maybe colm has taught him to shoot and fight and kill, but kieran teaches him about horses and fishing and bird calls. at this point isaac doesn't remember much about arthur. maybe he resents him for leaving him and his mother to die. maybe he kind of holds him on a pedestal and keeps this childish idea that someday his dad is gonna save him but he's starting to get a little too old to believe it as much as he did. maybe it's all just foggy in his mind. either way, after kieran is captured isaac is furious. colm shows no intention of going to save him and isaac is STEAMING when colm has the audacity to say that kieran better not talk.

if colm isn't gonna do something then isaac sure is, so he susses out where the gang is holed up and does his very best to free kieran. but obviously he can't get far with a malnourished and somewhat delirious straggler and he refuses to leave him behind. he's caught obviously, and in the scuffle kieran calls his name, and of course when something goes wrong arthur needs to be called over, and through a whole bunch of shouting (and afterwards, some awkward conversation) everything is pieced together.

isaac being an o'driscoll is kind of what clues them in to the fact that kieran wasn't really lying about not being a huge fan of colm himself. i mean, if they would kill eliza and keep her young son prisoner then they'd certainly keep kieran on after killing his old gang. he gets cut loose without even being threatened with gelding! and by now he's more willing to talk anyway - isaac being under the vdl's protection and thus unable to be caught in the crossfire makes him more willing to sic them on the o'driscolls. he barely even processes the REASON they've suddenly started trusting him until he actually listens to some of the breathless questions arthur is asking as he practically shakes isaac.

as soon as he hears isaac's name arthur is struck with a pang of sadness. but then he sees the kid, does some quick math in his head, remembers how there was only the one grave... it's seeing isaac's face that clinches it for him. dark grey eyes like his mother's, a scowling mouth that must look just like arthur's as he shouts at bill to let him go. arthur realizes just in time that oh yeah, this guy is invading their camp and he's dangerously close to losing his son again so he screams at everyone to put their goddamn guns away and immediately just assaults isaac with a barrage of questions.

it's a very long night for everyone. when everything is cleared up and after arthur has finished crushing isaac in his giant hug he has to accept the fact that someone else raised his kid. he doesn't know whether to resent kieran for having isaac's affection or just be happy that at least in these past few years he's had a better role model than colm (depending how long kieran has been with the o'driscolls... idk what's better, him joining up when isaac is already a teen or him being colm's whipping boy when isaac is first encountered). but arthur of course has to play nice with kieran but he slowly grows to appreciate the calming influence he has on isaac.

kieran for his part is having mixed feelings on actually meeting arthur for the first time. whatever feelings isaac had about arthur, kieran DEFINITELY was told about them. it's odd to finally meet the man in the flesh, especially since he's the one who KIDNAPPED him and threatened to kill him!!! but he kind of starts seeing how hard it is for arthur to accept the whole situation and starts tentatively trying to get closer to him. he doesn't want to... give him pointers, exactly, for fear that arthur will think he's being patronizing, but he'll sort of gently mention things isaac likes, and in turn arthur starts to swallow his pride and seek kieran out for these things.

the funniest thing is isaac seeing the two of them slowly start to get along and realizing exactly what's happening. i imagine he'd get into some kind of parent-trap shenanigans to try to speed things up and they somehow work despite them being horrendously planned.

#isaac morgan #arthur morgan #kieran duffy #colm o'driscoll #rdr2 #kierthur #kinda ran out of steam at the end but kierthur co-parenting is now like. living rent free in my headdddddd #verdemoun #eli got an ask

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mushroommanstan · 1 year ago

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I’m OBSESSED with your creepy Tenko omg. I’d loooooooove to strap him down to his bed for hours with one of those automatic cock sucker pumps that just completely milks him until nothing else comes out and his eyes roll back and he’s drooling like in his favorite hentais. And maybe some sweet aftercare from the reader after he’s too fucked out to even speak<3. UGHHHHH he gives me cuteness aggression or something I swear I wanna eat him up

“Alright baby, just a little more.” You said, dabbing his forehead sweat with a towel as he jerked around. He was a moaning mess, his eyes rolled back into his head as the machine did its job, not even slowing for a second as he busted another load. You watched the thick white liquid being sucked through a transparent tube, before dripping into the thermos with the rest.

One could argue what you were doing was selfish, using your boyfriends body to make some bucks. But he agreed to it, and by the looks of it he certainly didn’t mind. So really what’s the harm?

You got the idea while having sweet sweet sex with your beloved Tenko. You needed the stress reliever after trying, and failing, to collect enough pocket money for the new limited edition Super Hero Bros game before it went away forever. It wasn’t enough, those games were always wicked expensive, and with finals coming up you couldn’t give it the attention it needed.

So, of course, you went to your boyfriend for help. You needed his long cock to pound the stressful thoughts out of your brain for a while. So happily, he accepted your invitation to the party between your legs, and began pounding into like there was no tomorrow, like usual.

You noted in your foggy brain how weird his stamina was. Like always, he kept cumming in short sporadic bursts of 2 to 3 minutes, but not even stopping for a second in between. It always left a waterfall of cum flowing out of you by the end, one that’s a pain in the ass to clean if you’re being honest.

Just think though, all those people with erectile dysfunction and stuff who wanna have kids, meanwhile you’re wasting the breeder of the century by just washing away his cum every time. Hmmm, actually… maybe… I wonder if?

Afterwards, after the both of you were satisfied to the moon and back, just barely awake you searched up on your phone if you could sell cum. The sperm banks rates immediately showed up and… oh man… that’s a lot. And-and that’s just for one little cup? Tenko could fill those up like a god damn dispenser. Damn, that’d be like printing your own money…..

Which is what led you to the present. Currently, you had Tenko strapped to the bed (the restraints were his idea) spread eagle with one of his old vibrating fleshlights on his spicy boner. You were able to use your engineering classes for knowledge and resources to attach a clear tube to the fleshlight that would collect the sperm and transfer it into one of your thermoses.

Despite him agreeing to this, you felt a little bad about using him like this for a profit, so you decided to make this as fun for him as possible. That, and well, you just like seeing him squirm. So while the expensive hand-less fleshlight did it’s thing, you put his scrawny thighs over your shoulder and just demolished his prostate with your fingers before grabbing his favorite strap on.

You two have been doing this for hours, pushing his body to the limits, and at this point he was reduced into a puddle of tears and “milk”. His eyes were rolled back into his head, his face a red mess, his eyes now waterfalls, and his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he screamed for you.

“C’mon baby” you said, stroking his cheek lovingly before slapping him, making him moan out. “Just one more then we’ll stop. You can do it.” Your hips were beginning to buckle, stiff and sore from the constant thrusting but you persevered. You couldn’t stop now, not when he was mewling so preciously for you, still moving his hips along with yours and thrusting into the fleshlight like a bitch in heat. Fuck, he was so beautiful like this, you almost wanted to leave him like this and keep him as the work of art he is. But you knew that wasn’t possible, so you instead savored every drool filled, eye rolling lustful second with him.

It didn’t take long before he let out a hoarse, reedy whine, signaling his closeness. You smirked, beginning to fondle his balls as you milked his body for all its worth. He whines out, his worn body tensing as the last of the cum in his balls is pulled from his cock in a flurry of white hot pleasure. He tries to scream, key word here is try, as only a few spurts of cum come out, the very last of the batch, something you thought you’d never see. You wait until it’s completely traveled into the thermos before you pull out, turning off the powerful vibrator attached to your hips.

It takes a few good tugs to get the pump off him even after it’s turned off, and his cock, now devoid of life to give, falls limp onto his stomach, shrinking slowly back into its dormant state.

You tighten the lid on the thermos before placing it into the freezer in his mini-fridge, right next to the frozen pizza pockets and vodka he keeps in there. Yeah, he’s a little naughty. Then you shoot a quick text scheduling the appointment at the “bank” before turning your attention to your sweet baby.

He’s completely drenched in sweat, the bedsheets too, but he’s too exhausted to move. So you grab some wet wipes and wipe him down till he’s passably clean before pulling his boxers back up and collapsing next to him.

You wrapped your arm around his chest, tsking as you felt him tremble. He was crying softly, letting out little hiccups as he tried to calm down. “Oh calm down, you big baby.” You said softly.

He didn’t look at you, his eyes still glued to the ceiling and exotropia’d slightly in exhaustion. You got a little worried, only teasing before, so you whispered concernedly “you doing ok?”

Your head, nestled into his neck, felt his chin bump into it as he gave the faintest of nods making you sigh in relief. You kissed his neck, fretting a little over the texture of the fresh scars, and slapping his shoulder not too hard and scolding him. It was clear from just one glance at his state that no words were going to stick, so you sighed, pulling the blanket over the two of you and promising yourself to punish him in the morning. Maybe some spanking? Yeah, that’ll do it.

You know he’s trying to stay awake a little longer, just for you. You could see his eyes straining as he waited to see if you had anything left to say. And while it was sweet, you knew he desperately needed to rest, so you decided to hit his natural snooze button.

You weaved your fingers in his dark hair poofs, and immediately his eyes fell shut like they were weighed down by rocks. His mouth fell open and the room was filled with soft, but reasonably loud snores. You didn’t mind though, not when he has just the cutest snores ever.

You fell asleep, cuddled up to him not too long after that, and when you woke up you were in for a shock. Turns out, dangerous, world ending quirk gene having sperm goes for A LOT. Mostly from people buying it so it doesn’t get in the wrong hands. You guys were actually able to get TWO games instead of one. So… score!

#shigaraki tenko #my hero academia #shigaraki fanfiction #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #boku no hero academia tomura #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki smut #shimura tenko smut #tenko smut

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tgrailwar-zero · 8 months ago

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So little guy, where are you from? Do you live here in the city or are you visiting?

LITTLE GUY: "We sleep in by the Port! It's foggy sometimes, but sometimes it's sunny! We were sleeping, but now we're awake!"

LITTLE GUY: "...Mm..? We're... awake?"

LITTLE GUY: "Hm... I dunno! I dunno!"

KUKULKAN: "Not as much as I'd have hoped... we can talk more once we're done."

KUKULKAN: "...Fair enough, hehe. I guess someone has to be the one to tell Rider. I'll go get the boys."

KUKULKAN: "Oh, it's probably fine! But, just in case, we'll save it for later."

LITTLE GUY: "Bye, bye!"

They waved, wandering off down the Archives.

With that decision made, you got to the fun part. Research.

The Heavenly Divinity had been summoned as a warrior during the Lunar Grail War. One of the 129.

She hadn't been summoned in this way before. An old god, in a newer form. A dragon in the form of a fox. A goddess in the form of a mortal.

Her name was T█████=M██████████.

Was. At that moment, it was.

The stories of humans had weaved together a strange tale, it seemed. But that was fine. She was quite fond of weaving, after all. Her identity was fluid, one that shifted like the water, and danced between the gates of shrines.

'Caster', her Master called her. The maiden of the Hirota Jinja Shrine, a 'Caster'. Humans had called her many names over many years, but that was a new one.

While many saw her as a Kitsune, a simple fox-spirit, this Servant was a Shinko-ō. A divine 'dragon-fox'. A daughter of the heavens. Terrifying and beautiful, she was summoned by a hopelessly hopeful master for a hopelessly hopeful cause, and fought for it with every ounce of her being.

And then, the Titan struck.

She watched as the Servants of the Moon did everything they could, and knew it wasn't enough. She had seen this Titan before. Fought this Titan before-- and knew that the boundless strength of Heroic Spirits were not enough for it. And so, as they fought, she readied herself.

The Titan could only be defeated by divinity. Divinity unchained by humanity, and free to run wild and untamed. And so, the single-tailed fox gathered power, power that she had promised to never coalesce again in another life. -

You continued reading, though it felt like you were slipping further and further into a haze.

It felt more like a conversation. Like someone was speaking to you, gently by your side. The voice, delicate and feminine, seemed to whisper in your ear.

"There's something laughable about the idea of a 'lonely god'. Gods should be worshiped. Respected. Beloved. My Master held a deep contempt for humanity. He hated their contradiction, their twisted affairs, their violent nature. But he accepted it as well, knew that their violence would lead to peace. That if there was something truly terrible in the world, their differences would be set aside, and they would be saved. He could calculate, but understanding was out of his reach. And yet in his struggle, in his constant theorizing and thrashing about, he held something beautiful. A spark. A beautiful soul. Perhaps that is why I was summoned at his side. I am your goddess. I am your God. And, my beloved people of the Solar Cell, I selfishly ask of your forgiveness. Selfishly ask for your hope. Selfishly ask for your acceptance. I cannot tell you the reason, but I selfishly ask for your sacrifice as well."

You eventually reached a passage that held you tight. You could feel eyes on you. Burning, yet cold. Rushing water accompanied by the sound of crackling flames. Violent, yet calming. A contradiction.

'Amaterasu'. 'A M A T E R A S U'?

That cannot be my True Name. Amaterasu is kind. Gentle. The warm rays of the sun, that satiate those that dance under her gaze.

I am violent.

I am powerful.

I am the Great Fox Spirit. The Konjiki Hakumen. The Lady of Purification. The Goddess of Mukoyama. A mere facet of the Sun.

I create life.

I shine with the heavenly bodies.

The Servant of Amaterasu Ōhirume no Mikoto. The wrath of Tenshō Daijin. The flesh of Sume-Ōmikami. I am her untamed nature made manifest.

The waters of the Lunar Sea bow to me as they purge the world of evil. The flames of the Solar Cell burn for me as they purge the world of fear.

The great Titan will be cast into the Lunar Sea, and all shall be well.

Such is the will of--

You heard snapping in front of you, knocking you out of your trance.

ARCHIVIST: "I don't mind you resting your eyes, but the Archives are closing. Best to get a move on, right?"

Looking down, you realized that you had stopped reading at some point, though it was difficult to tell when. The book had been clamped shut, your smoke-like, tendrils (vaguely shaped in the form of hands) clasping it tightly.

#long post #thgw story #main post #thgw: chapter 5 #endless whispers #item usage poll #nasu isn't the only one that can play syncretism tennis

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moe-broey · 6 months ago

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6/09 • Day 1 • Past or Future

A Glimpse into the Past

Also quick edit!!! These kid designs are of Alfonse, Triandra, Peony (Sharena) and Sharena (Peony)! Unsure on ages, just. Ambiguously small LMFAO (sorry if I wasn't clear enough! I forgor.)

Well, I may not have been able to make time on my big piece, but I do have these concepts/roughs I made for it! Only focusing on the most important parts of each design, which is why the clothes are left blank lmfao

Something I've been headcanoning for a looong time is that the girls who'd become fairies had slightly different appearances, as humans/children. The biggest reason behind it is to make the changeling shenanigans more believable -- I can accept mistaking a blonde/orange for a blonde/pink, especially if there's no reason to think otherwise. Maybe it's a trick of the light. But I draw the line at your sister inexplicably having lavender eyes every now and again when they're supposed to be green LMFAOOO

If Lif can have red eyes, Totally Not Sharena Peony, as we know her, can have lavender eyes. After becoming something not quite human. Before then she gets blueish-green eyes. Which has the same effect as the orange being juuuust slightly off but like why would you ever think about that!!!!!

Some other thoughts:

> I like to think that Triandra and Peony/Sharena are half sisters, which is why she stands out a bit.

> I also like the idea that Triandra and Alfonse have some visual similarities, too. Mostly in the hair, both having somewhat androgynous styles, with a waviness to it. There's a sense of familiarity, in foggy memories.

@sharenaweek

#SharenaWeek2024 #fire emblem #feh #the big piece was waayyy more sharena/peony centric....... like it included all four but the focus was def on her 🥲#also more of a memory so like. well i got something else in mind for change of fate anyway 🫡#also can you believe. this was such a huge deal to me. can you believe i specifically went out to buy a very specific pencil #for peony's hair gradient/color. like. if you've been here a while You Know. the trials and tribulations #that have been me trying to get peony right. and esppp for this version of her that's more pink leaning orange #i just. did not have the right pencils in my arsenal for her.#i feel like i'm a lot closer now though. only thing about this design that nags at me is the fact she looks less like henriette #like i DO like having the darker/aquamarine almost blue eyes as a solution. bc it's an easy thing to miss #in the same vein as the orange/pink. and if you look through specific/esp older feh comics #you can see some sharenas that do have darker/more blue leaning eyes!#idk though how do you guys feel about it. for me the peony curse continues (but i'm getting there!)#sharena #fe peony #fe triandra #fe alfonse #my art

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underscar · 2 years ago

Text

LOVESTRUCK FOOL

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro/Female Reader

Summary: Love-struck is being blinded by love. A state of being so enthralled with someone that you can't stop thinking about them; moreover, to the point that they don't know what to do with themselves. Like a kid after going trick-or-treating. A sugar high and so much candy that they have no idea what to do with themselves. Megumi was a lovestruck fool, and you, Satoru's little sister, had struck him. Once accepting his affection for you, Satoru has appeared to turn into more of a pest, striving to ruin his student's chance for your affection at all costs.

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: Is it obvious that I adore megumi?

this is a old oneshot i dug out from my wattpad drafts so it may be familiar to a small percentage. i rewrote, changed, and added A LOT. cause damn did the writing suck. but i liked the concept and was in the mood for some megumi romance and satoru shenanigans. so enjoy!

WORD COUNT // 2,898 words

Love-struck: being blinded or struck by love.

A state of being so enthralled with someone that you can't stop thinking about them; moreover, to the point that they don't know what to do with themselves. Like a kid after going trick-or-treating. A sugar high and so much candy that they have no idea what to do with themselves.

Megumi was a lovestruck fool, and you had struck him.

Megumi has known you for as long as he has known Satoru, so since childhood. You were born with the Gojō clan's inherited technique, Limitless, but not with Six Eyes, so you weren't able to efficiently yield it like your older brother. You were constantly under protection because of your relation with Satoru, with all his notoriety, the fact that you are, in general, a Gojō, and your lack of combat capabilities. Every time you go in public, bodyguards must chaperone you.

Despite not having immense power like your brother, you were still held to a high standard and bore high expectations. Your clan was very strict regarding you since you were the last child left in the household, one of few daughters amongst your siblings, and the youngest child of your parents. They were very strict about who you could be friends with, who you could see, where you went, what you did, and so on. Lucky for Megumi, he fits the criteria for who you openly could be friends with.

It wasn't long ago when it struck hit him. It was sudden and all. Occurred when you had visited Tokyo one weekend to hang out with him for the afternoon, and he recognized he felt something for you as he was escorting you to your chauffeur.

At first, Megumi mistook this feeling for his fondness for you from childhood. He has clear and warm memories of growing up next to you. You were inseparable then, not that you aren't nowadays, but now you were both just too busy to just stay attached 24/7 since you live such a distance away. With him training as a shaman in Tokyo, and you not, you both attended different schools in different cities.

Due to the strictness of your clan and the intense security you maintain, your gatherings are limited to twice a month.

He looks forward to your monthly visits.

Because of how periodically you're allowed to see one another, to satisfy his neediness for the next visit, he always walks you out of the school campus to squeeze in a few more minutes with you. Megumi didn't want to admit it, but he was lonely here without you.

This particular day was a rather foggy day. The sky grew darker and dimmer; moreover, the air got damp. The clouds scattered the sky at sporadic gaits and trends. Shrouding the sunlight in a grey filter and conveying a melancholic sense down below. When Megumi was with you, however, nothing could turn him blue, so you both disregarded those caution signs, too invested in each other's company as he walked you toward the campus parking lot, where your guards were expected you.

As projected, the irregular drips of rain swiftly evolved into a shower of rain following you and Megumi's steps. Megumi's involuntary instinct was to sprint to the parking lot for your ride, rushing the usually languid stroll. He didn't want to, he wanted to spend more time together, but it was the prudent course of action. He didn't want you to get a cold.

You however didn't allow him to make this choice.

Before he could move to direct you to a quicker route to the parking lot, you swiftly captured his warm hand in yours, and in turn, chilled him to the bone. You had placed him into an outbreak of remembrance.

"This is perfect Megumi! Let's hide!" you say. You looked into his eyes and there was nothing but bliss in them. As if the child in you was still behind those eyes. "Like we're kids again!" you added, joyfully. You smiled in the murky rain that clouded the area. The sun within this storm you are.

Megumi would've said normally how foolish and immature that was, but he was voiceless as you lured him away towards your entanglement.

The palm of your hand felt like a glove in his, it fit wonderfully, as it always has. When you were younger, you would always hold his hand. Mostly to drag him along with you to participate in whatever shenanigan you were up to. Just like you were now.

With his hand in yours, he felt something. There was something different about this moment then what Megumi recollected from his childhood, he wanted to squeeze your hand with his, he wanted to kiss your hand, and caress it. This "something" had felt different from the fondness he had for you from childhood. It felt oddly romantic and intimate at the moment.

Megumi was a lovestruck fool

and had fallen in love with you.

That day you stayed a few hours more with you both hiding from your guards who soon went searching for you. Megumi knew was going to get in a lot of trouble for this once you both got caught, which will happen eventually. Regardless, it was difficult for him to say no to you. He could never refuse more time with you.

You were both apprehended when Satoru was summoned to fetch you up instead, and he found you both in a matter of seconds. By then you were exhausted after running around the campus and had fallen asleep behind some sofas in the student's commons area.

What caught Satoru's attention was seeing your head resting on his student's shoulder, who did not move an itch.

That was the day Megumi conceded he had an affinity for you. It was also the day Satoru found out his student had a crush on his sister, and he became a pestering asshole.

There is a lively atmosphere in the coffee shop and the air is filled with the smell of pastries and beans. The early morning sun filtered through the windows into the shop and illuminated Satoru's ghostly-white mane.

In the booth, Megumi sat down in front of his teacher, who had suddenly invited him for breakfast. He initially declined but was coaxed after Satoru rambled for what felt like 30 minutes about how lonely he is and how no one cares about him anymore. Or something along those lines. Megumi simply accepted with a groan to keep the conversation short.

Satoru rested his arms on the wooden tabletop. His palms were entwined. "Megumi," he said, bringing his students' focus away from the coffee he was drinking. "Are you excited to see my sister this weekend?" he asked, before continuing to speak before he could respond. "—you know, every time I visit her, she only asks about you."

Megumi's pine eyes narrowly broaden. Did you really? He restrained himself from moving his palm to cover his face. Well of course you did, your friends, he reasoned. Making his emotions too visible would only catch Satoru's attention if his behavior hasn't already. The man in front of him now having a devoid smile on his face.

He had to behave as if what Satoru was saying didn't matter, or Satoru would never live it down. Rather, he just gapes outside the window next to him, his face flushing.

Satoru continued when he didn't get a response from Megumi. "My baby sister doesn't love me anymore, it's depressing. She doesn't even give me a good morning text anymore!" he whined. He shakes his head in displeasure, flicking his wrist. "It's Megumi this, Megumi that. It's like she's been possessed to only speak of you, Megumi!"

Megumi twitched at the sound of his name being repeated. "So?" Megumi forced out. Satoru was annoying but he wasn't annoying for no reason. He just wanted Satoru to stop talking around the bush, and ultimately admit his central reason for bringing him here this morning.

Satoru fell back into his seat. "You're the same Megumi!" he wept. "You're always asking about her too! No one cares for me anymore!”

Megumi frowned at him as he dropped his head onto the table. Then, with his head on the table, Satoru pretended to weep into his folded arms. The other patrons in the coffee shop are now fixated on the two of them because of this.

Megumi sighs and sips his coffee slowly.

Satoru suddenly stops sobbing and gives his student a smirk while looking up. Megumi only had a hunch as to what this meant; he knew something he shouldn't.

Satoru crossed his legs and sat back in his chair. He then begins by sipping from his frappuccino. "You know Megumi, you've been getting rather close to my sister. As if...you're attracted to her almost,” he surmised.

A look of seriousness suddenly appeared on Satoru's face, but the whipped cream on his lip almost made it hard for Megumi to take him earnestly.

Megumi places his mug on the table and listened.

Satoru kept talking. "I am aware of your little crush on my baby sister. So, tell me, Megumi, do you think you're worthy of being with my sister?" he inquired outright.

Before Megumi had the chance to consider responding, Satoru cut him off. "—I want you to think about that Megumi!" he barks. He pointed a finger at the teen. "Think of it as an assignment from your Sensei."

Megumi simply agrees. Satoru appeared to be babbling nonsense to anyone else, but in fact, he just lightly threatened the boy. But he wouldn't let Satoru stand in the way of him because he was lovestruck by you. This was the start of Satoru's "assignment" and the first time he would use those exact three phrases repeatedly in the future.

Five hours. You're five hours late.

In spite of the fact that today was the day for you and Megumi's monthly hangout, you were nowhere to be seen It wasn't completely uncommon for you to be late, your family put a lot of duties on you, yet you've never been one to be late. Additionally, you would've at least texted him. He's had his phone clutched to his palm for the last five hours waiting for that said text.

This wasn't like you at all. Megumi feared something might have occurred to you at home. So, grudgingly, he leaves his dorms to find your pain-in-the-ass brother to question him on your lateness. It had been a few weeks since his meeting with Satoru at the coffee shop and nothing has really occurred since. Just a little bit of teasing from him in class but other than that he hasn't really done anything.

It didn't take Megumi long to find Satoru in the commons area. He was sitting alone with a rounded cake on the table in front of him, a napkin tucked into his shirt.

Megumi entered the room and made his presence known to the man. "Gojō-sensei, _____ hasn't come today and she hasn't texted me back. Do you know why?" he asked, keeping a distance away.

Satoru nodded. "Ah, right, I forgot to tell you. She broke her phone or something, so she's going to get a new number," he replied, biting right into the rounded cake without bothering to cut it into pieces.

Megumi supposes that makes sense, but that doesn't explain why you didn't show up today. He's too embarrassed to say that he was looking forward to seeing you. But screw it, as soon as he learns how you're doing, he'll put up with it and listen to Satoru's teasing.

"…But why didn't she show up? She was supposed to visit.”

Satoru wipes his face with a napkin before replying. "Actually, I took her out today. You know, for some brother and sister time," he responds nonchalantly, purposely not looking Megumi in the eyes.

Why in the world would Satoru do that? He chose to take you out knowing that this was the only opportunity you had to be with each other. Megumi won't deny it; he was furious. Satoru had the freedom to visit you whenever he pleased, and on the one occasion he did, he chose to take you out on your and Megumi's day. He shoots Satoru a deadly-looking stare, but Satoru fails to react, leaving Megumi with a splitting headache.

He sighs and doesn't even attempt to continue the conversation with the man before turning around and heading back to his dorm.

Satoru doesn't raise his head until Megumi is no longer in view. When he hears a door slam off in the distance, a grin spreads across his face and he starts chuckling to himself.

Satoru thought, leaning his face against his palm, "So Megumi likes you more than I thought." He accesses Megumi's contact on his phone after taking it out. He explains in the message how he persuaded his parents to give you two another day to meet tomorrow with extra time with himself as your escort.

Some people might believe Satoru was being overbearing but he merely wanted to witness Megumi's feelings for you at all times. To poke fun at his developing feelings for you and the frustrating moments when he was unable to see you. Satoru pondered seeing Megumi concerned for your wellbeing.

On the other side of the coin, after reading Satoru's text message, Megumi couldn't help but groan into his pillow. He got played. What was that blindfolded idiot of a teacher doing? Megumi had to know; he isn't sure if he can take the uncertainty any longer. It's already hard as it is to get the confidence to confess to you, but If Satoru keeps being a pestering asshole, he can't attempt to pursue a relationship with you.

The following day, you and Megumi hung out and actually left his campus to engage in some enjoyable activities, just as Satoru had promised. Satoru had come to watch over you two; yet, stayed in the background behind you both, leaving you with some space. It was an enjoyable evening which only led to Megumi feeling more conflicted with his feelings for you, especially with your brother being near.

Satoru sent you off to your chauffeurs with joy at the conclusion of the evening, and you returned home. He and Megumi then returned to the school grounds in silence after watching you drive away into the distance.

With this silence, Megumi spoke up.

"We need to talk, Gojō-sensei."

Satoru stopped, slightly ahead of Megumi. "I'm assuming this talk is about my baby sister, " he guesses. "I'm right, huh?"

"I wanted to confront you. In private," Megumi explained.

Satoru smiles enormously. "Oh really? Are you going to try to kill me for my sister?" he taunts.

"Be serious Gojō," he sighs. He hadn't wanted to say these things in front of you, for obvious reasons; nevertheless, it had to have been expressed. "Why are you so against me…liking ______?" he asked.

The smile left Satoru's face and he turned away. "I'm not."

Why did he interrupt your brief time together before persuading your parents to extend it? Why inform him about how much you like him and then threaten him about liking you in return? He doesn't understand what Satoru's thinking.

Megumi narrows his eyes. "Do you want me to date ______ or not?"

"Uhhhh," Satoru groaned. "I don't know. I haven't decided yet." He shook his head. "No, that's a lie. it's really just that...she's weak, and you'll have to protect her. And I only wonder if you're strong enough to do so."

You are cherished by Satoru. You are the sole member of his family where his love for you is thoroughly pure and not tainted. He doesn't mean to insult you when he calls you weak, but it's accurate nonetheless.

You can't defend yourself against curses, and Satoru would feel more at ease if he knew for sure that Megumi could protect you when he wasn't near.

"Are you strong enough to protect my beloved sister Megumi?"

How does he even answer that question? Megumi desires to say yes because he would do anything for you in his heart. In contrast, he is uncertain in his mind. You attract the attention of special grades, the likes of assassins, and have bounties on your head. You worry about your life and the lives of your family members every day. Is he truly powerful enough to keep you safe from the danger that you face?

"I think I love her, Satoru," he admits. The words were almost painful to say to Satoru. "And I'll protect her to the best of my ability and more. Even if I have to die trying."

Megumi despised how cliché his confession sounded, but he really did mean it. The truth is often sappy. While he cannot promise to protect you with certainty, he can promise to make every effort.

Satoru didn't tease his words, which caught Megumi off guard. He firmly asserts, placing his hand on his student's shoulder while gazing into his azure eyes, "She'd cry if something happened to you,” he said.

He continues, the corner of his lip lifting, "You'll have to get strong enough so that you don't die trying to save her.”

"So think about that Megumi~"

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

© UNDERSCAR 2023 - All rights are reserved to underscar. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarize, translate or screenshot my work: this will also include not reposting my writing on other social media platforms and writing platforms.

#© UNDERSCAR #x female reader #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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jaehunnyy · 2 years ago

Text

I know I love you

Genre: friends-to-lovers!au, fake-dating!au, angsty but with a happy ending, fluff (in the end)

Word count: 1k

Pairing: fake-boyfriend!Beomgyu x fem!reader

Requested by: anon (song: 0X1=LOVESONG - TXT)

Warnings: one kiss, usage of pet names (angel), a bit of a messed up situation, mentions of clubbing, mentions of Beomgyu being drunk (though he is sober enough), possible grammar mistakes

A/N: nonnie, im sorry it took so long to write this, but i am happy i got to finish it now. i changed the meaning of the lyrics a bit and i used them in different situations, so I hope you don't mind that too much. thank you! ✨️

__________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The flashing lights and the loud music defining the club Beomgyu was in were nothing new for the boy. The reason why he kept ending there? Very familiar as well. He often wondered what made him accept fake dating you, because instead of becoming closer, he felt like you were distancing more with every passing day. And still, it was his mistake, because he accepted the deal when you offered to help him with making the girl he loved jealous—not realising that you were supposed to make yourself jealous in this case. And once again, the memories have started to kick in.

"Hey, Gyu!" you shouted, gently nudging his shoulder: "I heard you're in love, hmmm?"

His eyes widened at your question, and the panic made his vision blurry. There was no way you found out, was it?

"Uhm, well, you see—"

"I can help you with that, Gyu! I know you are way too shy to confess, so I have a plan for that. Let's fake date!"

"I don't want to use you for that… you are much more than a rebound for me, Y/N…"

“I offered to do that, and I will be here for you, always. Let's do that, Gyu. Please, use me like a drug."

Let's fake date. Please, use me like a drug. He would have never imagined that he would be in such a situation, but if he said no, you would keep on asking questions, and he would expose himself; so he chose to say yes.

Already tired of the place he spent his last hour in and the aching memory of his mistake, he took his leather jacket and started walking slowly to your house, because even with his foggy mind, he knew you'd always let him in. You were his fake girlfriend, after all. He also took advantage of the silence on the street, engulfed by the pressure of his thoughts, until he reached your welcoming house. One knock, and you were already in front of him, the same, worried look plastered on your face.

"Did you get drunk again…?" you sighed, before letting him come inside.

"No, 'm not drunk," he said, an innocent smile stretching his lips softly: "just missed you."

You gave him a bitter smile, because in the end, you were not the girl he loved, (or so you thought).

"Is this part of our deal?"

"Missing you? No, Y/N, 'm honest with youuuu!" he laughed, clinging into you like a little kid.

You had enough of this painful pretending.

"Gyu… let's end this."

Was he not sober enough, so that he started to hear things? There's no way you would end things like this, right? Did he do something wrong?

"What? What about the girl I like?"

"You don't need me to pull her, Beomgyu. Once you do, you will be happy, and I will keep on hurting myself. It's over."

He felt the need to laugh, you couldn't be serious. It was toxic, but he was addicted.

"Are you saying that I'm the one hurting you, when you did that to yourself?" he asked, hands shaking in anger. Why did you blame him?

"Yes." you simply stated, arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Then why the fuck did you offer to help me one month ago?"

"Because I love you, Gyu. And I would rather have you as my fake boyfriend than not having you at all, but it has become an all or nothing situation, and I want all of you."

You did all of this—because you loved him too? All this messed up situation, for him to find out that you were crushing on each other?

"Y/N… you were the girl I liked. When you found out that I have a crush, I panicked and… I didn't want to give myself away, so I chose to say yes to your plan, even though it made no sense."

You looked at him with glossy eyes, giving up and squishing him into a big hug. There was no point in fighting more, the situation was already messed up. You were convinced he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning, but you wanted to use this opportunity, just this time.

"Gyu, look at me. If you remember this in the morning, kiss me. If not, let's both forget about this."

Even though he was sober enough to think rationally, he played your game once again.

"Deal."

The next morning came with such small steps, that you felt trapped in a never ending loop. Since you didn't have a lot of space in your one-person apartment, you had no choice but to let Beomgyu sleep next to you, his hands holding you close to him all night. You opened your eyes and saw him already looking at you, lips curling in happiness at the sight of you.

"Morning, Y/N!" he cheerfully said, stroking your back softly.

"Morning, Gyu. How do you feel?"

"Amazing, actually. What about you?"

"I'm… alright…" you whispered, trying to understand why he didn't act sick after his drunk state the other day; though, the boy had something else in mind.

He gently cupped your cheek with his hands, pressing his soft lips on yours. The kiss took you off guard, but you didn't lose any more time and kissed him back, full of feelings and love. You felt him smile, pressing his forehead on yours and looking at you softly.

"Say you love me, Y/N. That's all I want to hear right now. Say you love me till the end of the world."

"I love you, Gyu. I love you, and I'm so happy you remembered."

"I love you too, angel, I always did." he said, then pressed a sweet kiss on your cheek.

In the end, everything turned out to be worth it, as you ended up having your own happy ending story, next to the boy you've adored more than anything.

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gracethyomen · 11 months ago

Text

“Vague Job Description”

Natalie is the paralegal that's been in love with Matt since she's known him.

Unbeknownst to her, Matt knows all too well how she feels about him, but tries to keep her at arms length to keep her safe.

When she starts to get dragged into the underbelly of hell's kitchen he calls home, some things can no longer remain hidden, and some emotions aren’t so easy to control.

Summary: It’s literally the pilot. First installments are always iffy just bear with me.

Warnings: Mention of death, mention of blood, mention of homicide, SO MUCH PINING. Matt being a human disaster, Natalie being a simp. Matt also being a simp but quieter. These two idiots can’t express their feelings for the life of them.

"Foggy." The automated voice on his phone droned. "Foggy. Foggy."

Matt sighed, reaching to accept the call before sitting up. "Hello?" He answered, yawning widely.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Foggy chirped from the other side of the line. The sounds of other peoples' footsteps and the general business of Hell's Kitchen coming with it.

"What time is it?" He fingered the silk fabric of his sheets, savoring the feeling between his fingertips. Far too happy to lay back down for the time being.

"Half past get the hell up," Foggy replied. "Let's go! We gotta meet the real estate agent in..." He paused, Matt assumed to check his watch. "45."

"Usually, Nat calls me when i'm late." He pointed out, effectively ignoring Foggy's instructions.

"Nat's not answering her phone. She's probably already finding stuff to do." Foggy rationalized, the sound of people talking now starting to overcome him. What he said was odd. Nat usually always picked up her phone, even when she was so hungover she sounded like she'd been hit by a train. "Must've stayed out too late."

"She tell you about any dates or something last night?" Matt pushed, feeling an unwelcome dart of worry run through him for a split second.

"Aw, Matt, you do care. I'll need to get that in writing and give it to Nat for her birthday. She might cry." Foggy said sarcastically. "Seriously, get moving. I've got to go bribe a cop."

"Ah, Foggy." Matt warned, standing up to grab his phone, wandering into his living room.

"Kidding, NSA, if you're listening. But really, yeah, I gotta bribe a cop."

Matt shook his head smiling, and started his morning routine.

"You've got a reception area, a conference room and two offices. Corner suite has a view of the Hudson..." Natalie was only partially listening to the real estate agent giving them a tour of the floor, her fingers clenching around her black folder she was holding to her neatly pressed pencil skirt. She looked around, pushing up her glasses as she ran her eyes over the yellowed molding on the floor, looking for loose nails or lifted floorboards. Anything a cane or a shoe might catch on.

"You can flip a coin with your partner for it." Susan joked, gesturing to Nat.

Natalie fought a flush as she spluttered a little. Holding up her hand and laughing awkwardly. "Oh, I'm not-"

"Uh, he can have the view." She heard a familiar voice and a creak of the door before turning to see Matt entering through the door. A small smile on his face.

Susan, the realtor, immediately widened her eyes. plastering a charming smile over her face. "I'm... So sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Matt smirked, standing just ahead of the door holding his cane. "Of course not."

Susan chuckled, taking a step forward and extending her hand for a shake. "Susan Harris. Midtown Property Solutions."

"Matt Murdock."

Susan seemed to realize her mistake and dropped her hand, choosing instead to do an odd knee-bend. Nat fought not to roll her eyes. Somehow Matt always found a way to make the gorgeous women in his vicinity turn into bumbling fools.

Foggy saved them both from the palpable awkwardness. "She just curtsied. It was adorable."

Matt chuckled, turning his head briefly to the floor. "Well, it's nice to know Chivalry isn't dead." Matt lifted his chin, turning his head in a way that Foggy recognized was him listening for something. "Natalie?"

She turned from the window with an audible, "Hmm?" Matt smiled just a little, turning to face the sound. The action causing her heart to flutter momentarily. She convinced herself over the years that she imagined it, but part of her leapt at the way he always seemed to smile when he recognized her presence nearby.

He lifted a hand, palm up, a silent request that she had become accustomed to at this point. She immediately walked from the side of the room to Matt, taking his rough hand in hers and guiding it to her side, where he instinctively curled his fingers at the spot where her bicep met her elbow. She tried not to shudder, like she always did, when he touched her skin. Hoping the goosebumps didn't feel as obvious as she dreaded.

"Susan, if we could continue with-" Natalie urged, looking briefly at Matt before turning back to the agent expectantly.

"Yes of course, my pleasure. As I was telling your associates, Mr. Murdock, this office was barely touched by the incident, which is why it's on the market already. The neighbors weren't so lucky."

Matt snickered softly. "'The incident'? Is that what we're calling it now."

Natalie scoffed. "Well, it sounds so much better than 'death and destruction raining from the sky, nearly wiping Hell's Kitchen off the map'." She murmured.

Matt laughed aloud. Something she didn't expect. "Shorter, too." He quipped. Making her smile.

Foggy crinkled his nose a little, pointing out the window. "Owner figuring in the delightful view of cranes and scaffolding?" He asked, eyeing the construction work outside distastefully. "Feels like we're getting pre-incident prices."

Susan flashed him a smile that was more teeth than anything. "They're a quarter of what they used to be. Hell's Kitchen's on the rebound, Mr. Nelson." She took a step closer to the group. "And in eighteen months you won't be able to rent a broom closet at this price point."

Matt squeezed her elbow, and she tried to tell herself that the touch was unconscious as he stated. "We'll take it."

Foggy snorted, looking quickly at Matt. "We will talk about it. Because we're not sure we can even afford this palace." He said pointedly.

Nat looked between Foggy and the man holding her arm. "Unless you both make some changes to your current clientele policy." She pointed out.

Matt nodded, turning to 'look' at the realtor. "My partner and I are having some disagreements over the direction of Nelson and Murdock." He clarified, his free hand fidgeting with the handle of his cane. "I believe we're here to defend the innocent."

Foggy sniffed, smiling with a strained expression. "And I believe the innocent includes everyone not yet convicted of a crime."

Natalie coughed, "You know, as the law states." Matt shook his head, not acknowledging her comment.

"He likes to use fancy terminology."

"And my partner fails to recognize that, as attorneys, we're never gonna be able to keep the lights on, waiting on a horde of innocent souls to stumble into our loving arms." Foggy sighed, exasperated.

Matt blew out a quiet breath. "At this point. I think i'd settle for just one."

"Foggy called to drag my ass out of bed this morning." Matt spoke into the quiet space. Natalie looked up from her new desk to see him standing in front of it. The suite only had two offices, and as they had decided Matt utilized her the most, she would share with him. Instead of his normal glasses she was met with his brown, unseeing eyes. Looking somewhere past her head.

"Sounds about right." She said, bending down to pick her little plant out of the cardboard box she'd put it in for the move. Along with the dainty watering can.

"Usually you call me." Matt continued, folding up his cane and placing his hand on the thin wood of her desk. She didn't respond. "And Foggy said you weren't answering the phone."

Natalie closed her eyes for a moment. "Did some meditating last night and forgot to turn it back on." Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth either. She did turn her phone off so she wouldn't be bothered. But not for meditating. And she didn't forget to turn it back on.

"Nat..." Matt murmured.

"Matt, I didn't get abducted. I don't see why you're so upset about this." She said testily, standing from her desk to connect her extension cord to the outlet.

She heard a soft sigh, and when she stood back up she saw Matt was rounding her desk to lean against it, next to her chair.

"You're not just my associate, you're my friend. It's normal for me to care about your well-being. Especially in Hell's Kitchen." He spoke mildly, but she could see his fingertips squeezing the lip of her desk.

Just like many times before, she was grateful Matt couldn't see her wince slightly at the word friend. She forced a laugh, but it sounded strained even to her own ears. "I'm touched, Matt, but i'm fine. Just a mix up."

"Natalie."

"Matthew." She countered, trying for a playful tone.

"I missed your call." He confessed quietly, and her heart lurched. A soft blush climbing high in her cheeks. It was moments like that that made it hard for her to go on blind dates. To text the barista who wrote his number on her coffee order. She was fucking pathetic...

"Also, it's really hard to find a good paralegal who is pleasant in conversation and can take notes in braille." Matt added, breaking some of the awkwardness. Nat laughed. Staring at her stupid little plant instead of the incredibly oblivious, gorgeous man leaning against her desk.

Foggy burst through the office door, phone still in hand and eyes bright. "We have a case!"

Matt raised his eyebrows, reaching to unfold his cane. "Since when?"

"Since that cop I bribed fell in love with me!" Foggy exclaimed, waving anxiously for them to follow him. "Come on, come on! Homicide! Suspect doesn't remember anything! Let's go!"

"Go where?" Natalie huffed, grabbing her notepad and folder as well as Matt's briefcase.

"Precinct two blocks west of here! Let's go!" Foggy urged, practically dragging Matt by the elbow out of the office.

The sight of a thin, blonde woman practically shriveling behind the metal table was the first thing Natalie noticed when she entered the room. The second was the metal cuffs digging harshly into her wrists. She immediately looked at the officer standing to her side.

"Can we please take the cuffs off the 110 pound suspect?" She gestured to the blonde. "Poor thing's literally shaking."

The detective who showed them to the room gave Natalie a strange look, then proceeded to look at Matt and Foggy skeptically.

"Miss Page, can you tell me who these men and their... associate, are?" The gruff man drawled, looking entirely displeased with the new arrivals.

"We're her lawyers." Matt said, before turning his head towards Nat. "This is Ms. Bishop. Uncuff our client and give us the room, please." Matt's tone left no room for disagreement, and Nat watched the officer free Miss Page.

"And a chair for Ms. Bishop, if you don't mind." Foggy added. Matt nodding at him gratefully.

The detective huffed but dragged one of the aluminum chairs loudly to the edge of the table. The four of them stood in awkward silence as the detectives left the room, the lock buzzing ominously as the door closed.

Matt wasted no time. "Ms. Page, my name is Matt Murdock. This is my partner, Foggy Nelson and-"

Ms. Page zeroed her gaze in on Natalie. "Are you a lawyer, too?"

Natalie cleared her throat, smiling nervously. "No, i'm, uh-"

"Paralegal." Matt said, at the exact moment Foggy said, "Assistant."

Ms. Page looked between all three of them confusedly. As Matt angled his head at Foggy for a moment, before lifting his chin back to where Ms. Page's voice was coming from.

"It's a... Wide job description at the moment." He clarified, before gesturing in the direction of the chairs. "Do you mind if we sit?"

Natalie watched her adjust in her seat, dropping her gaze.

Foggy tilted his head towards Matt, whisper-yelling in an effort to break the tension. "She gave a vague shrug, I say we go with it." Matt nodded and all three of them promptly sat in their respective chairs. Natalie took out the physical notebook to start writing things down.

"We understand you're in some trouble." Matt began, bracing his hands on the table. "We, uh, may be able to help."

Foggy also got right down to business. "Can you tell us what happened?" He held his hands out, "Why don't we start with what we know, then?" He sighed, searching the woman's blank face. "You were found in your apartment with one..." He checked the name on the report he'd been given. "Daniel fisher."

"Who appears to be the victim of a homicide," Matt continued. "And, currently, you're the only suspect, Ms. Page."

Ms. Page looked between the two of them incredulously, and Natalie noticed that not only did she have blood stains on her hands and forearms, but her eyes were also red and rubbed raw from crying.

"Who the hell are you guys?" She breathed, gripping her arms to her body tightly.

"I'm Matt, he's Foggy." Matt said; matter-of-fact. "She's Natalie." He nodded his head at Nat, who had been waiting for something important to be said.

"Who sent you?" Ms. Page continued her questioning, leaning her head forward just enough for her wheat-colored hair to fall forward in a curtain around her face.

"No one sent us." Matt reassured her. And almost before he could get the words out Ms. Page started to speak again.

"So, what?" She laughed humorlessly. "You're just a couple of Good Samaritans? Todays just my lucky day?"

Foggy chose this moment to say, "I bribed the desk sergeant with a box of cigars for his mom." As a way of explanation.

Matt took a classier approach. "Our practice is relatively young, Ms. Page, and we are aggressively pursuing new clientele." He sighed and turned to Foggy. "You gotta stop giving Bess cigars."

Foggy scoffed. "She likes to smoke, Matt. It's a free country."

Natalie watched as Ms. Page observed the exchange. Clearly at an impasse as to what was the right decision here. She swallowed hard. Looking between Natalie and the two lawyers.

"So..." She began. "How long have you been practicing law?"

Matt turned his head towards Natalie. "What time is it?" She and Foggy checked their watches at the same time but Natalie replied first.

"It's 12:22 AM." She murmured to Matt.

Matt cleared his throat and turned his head back towards Ms. Page, folding his hands neatly on the table. "About seven hours." He said firmly.

Nat scoffed quietly. "Well, if you go from when you passed the bar-"

Matt pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I was going from when we got our own desks."

Foggy nodded as if that was the most logical approach to the situation. "Oh, then, yeah. Seven hours." He turned back to Ms. Page with a proud smile. Natalie rolled her eyes with a faint smirk playing on her lips.

This was going to be a long night.

a/n: WHOO BOY this one is chunky. 2.5k words. I know this bit is kind of dull but I promise there’s more Nat and Matt next time. Getting a story going is incredibly boring sometimes. Thanks for reading! If you feel like it consider dropping a note or a follow for more of this story. Have a good day/night!

As always, special thanks to @abucketofweird for your support in this series. You’re currently the proud owner of the dedication for it. <3

- Sybil

#matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x ofc #matt murdock #matthew murdock #matt murdock x oc #marvel #daredevil x ofc #daredevil x oc #daredevil #daredevil x reader

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weirdestbooks · 3 months ago

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The Parental Sibling (Wattpad | Ao3)

Delaware was a horrible patient most of the time, so it was concerning that he was actually being a good patient right now. His fever was so high, and he kept complaining about a headache, so all he was doing was staying curled up in bed, drifting in and out of sleep.

So now Massachusetts was on sick person duty, in charge of looking after Delaware as he tried to sleep off the worst of his illness. It was one of those things that was easier and harder than it looked.

“Come on, Delly, just take your medicine. It’s going to help you feel better, I promise.” Massachusetts said. Delaware shook his head, his foggy eyes making eye contact with Massachusetts’.

“Don’t want it, Papa. It tastes gross, and I’m fine. It’s just a small headache.” He said, not seeming to realize that he had called Massachusetts Papa, something that Massachusetts was smiling so incredibly wide at. That habit died out when their father learned about them, as they didn’t want to offend him. Virginia and Massachusetts hadn’t been Mom and Dad to the rest of the thirteen plus Ohio for a long time.

It was nice to hear it when it happened, though. It always brought back good memories of their childhood.

“Delly, you have a hundred-degree fever, and it sounds like you are about to drop dead when you cough. You are sick. Take the medicine.” Massachusetts said. Delaware shook his head and pressed his lips shut. Massachusetts sighed. This kid…

“Don’t make me bring your mother in here. You know she’ll just become overprotective, and I know you won't like that,” Massachusetts said. Delaware’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you blackmailing me with Ginny?” He asked. Massachusetts smiled.

“Yes, I am. Come on, Del, I’ll let you use me as a pillow if you take your medicine.” Delaware looked conflicted at the offer but then nodded.

“That is an acceptable trade. But no leaveing when I fall asleep!” He said. Massachusetts laughed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, little bro,” Massachusetts said, handing him the ibuprofen. Delaware did his best to swallow the pills quickly, but his face still twisted in disgust as he did so.

“I hate pills.” He said, rubbing his face. Massachusetts laughed at that.

“So I’ve heard,” Massachusetts responded. Delaware flipped me off and then broke into a large coughing fit, his body shaking from the force of the coughs as he leaned forward. Massachusetts began to rub Delaware’s back as he went to sit on the bed with him.

“I hate being sick.” Delaware rasped out, leaning against Massachusetts, his eyes slipping shut.

“Are you ready to sleep now?” Massachusetts asked. Delaware shrugged and just tried to burrow further into Massachusetts’ side. Massachusetts moved his hand from Delaware’s back and began to play with his hair, trying to soothe Delaware and make it easier for him to try and sleep. He hadn’t been sleeping well due to the coughing, so anytime he did drift off, Massachusetts wanted to keep him that way.

Massachusetts placed his hand on his forehead, taking a break from messing with Delaware’s hair. He let out a worried breath as he felt how hot it was. Delaware’s eyes opened slightly, and he pressured his face into Massachusetts’ hand.

“Your hand is nice and cold.” He said softly. Massachusetts smiled.

“And your head feels like an oven. Do you want me to get an ice pack?” Massachusetts asked. Delaware shook his head.

“No. You promised to be my pillow so you will stay my pillow. Pa-Mass, it’s fine for now. Your hand is enough,” he said. Massachusetts nodded, and Delaware then relaxed against Massachusetts’ side, his body growing limp and his breathing slowing.

“Sleep well, Dela. I promise you will feel better in the morning.”

#statehumans #oneshots by weird #statehumans delaware #statehumans massachusetts

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moonchildreads · 2 years ago

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small town

Chapter 14 - Missing You

IN THIS CHAPTER: The meaning of flowers, homemade cake, and Maureen and Margaret become friends [6.0k]

WARNINGS: angst, discussions about dead parents (car accident/unspecified terminal illness), survivor's guilt, unprocessed grief - please heed my warnings. i'm currently grieving someone and this is very raw, proceed only if it won't hurt you

A/N: shout out to @duquesademiel and @justahappycloud for teaching me that it is okay to write as a form of therapy, and i'm sorry i keep sending you the sad bits of this fic only. i love you and i can't believe i get to call you my friends. also, big thank you to @boomhauer for letting me use her chosen name for eddie's dad - i admire you greatly and everyone should go and read disjointed as a thank you. we're so very lucky we have you in this fandom <3

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

You had so much hope for a brighter day Why were you my flower plucked away?

Sunday, May 11th - 1986

“What on Earth are you doing?”

Mother’s Day had always been a weird day for Dottie. When she was a toddler, it was just another calm and quiet Sunday, albeit one where her Dad wanted more cuddles than usual, which, quite frankly, already were a lot. Still, she enjoyed the extra attention and he loved holding his little girl in his arms while she took a nap on his chest so there were no complaints to be heard from either side. When she was in kindergarten, her class spent an entire Friday making gifts for their Moms. Dottie came back home with a hopeful smile and gave her paper mache and macaroni flower to her Dad, asking if he could send it all the way up to Heaven for her. James had neer been happier about the fact that they now had separate bedrooms so she wouldn’t hear him sob clutching her handcraft to his chest while she slept. When she was around 8, she asked her Dad why couldn’t they simply celebrate Mother’s Day like everyone else in her class.

Margaret’s physical absence in her daughter’s life wasn’t an unusual topic in their home; in fact, a lot of teachers commented on it as Dottie grew up, praising James for keeping her memory alive and normalizing a sad situation so his kid wouldn’t suffer. James wasn’t sure why telling his daughter that she had been so very much loved by her dead parent was worthy of being praised, but as a single dad in the ‘70s, he took whatever kind words he could get. He made sure that Dottie understood she had a Mom, that she didn’t suddenly appear from thin air one day to change James’ life forever, that she’d been wanted and dreamed of by both parents. Margaret’s face was in countless pictures around their home, they stayed in her old bedroom whenever they visited her side of the family in Pennsylvania, they talked about what she’d say or what she’d do at all times. Margaret Burke was a constant presence in their lives despite her untimely death, and the fact that they celebrated that every day except during Mother’s Day didn’t feel right to her daughter.

That’s how Dottie found herself establishing little traditions that were still in place that Sunday afternoon when she opened her front door to find one of her best friends holding a small bouquet tied together with a big silver ribbon. Dressed in an all-black ensemble as he usually did, the lilac and white flowers sprinkled with greenery were the only pop of color in the foggy drizzly afternoon. Eddie was smiling wide despite the ugly weather, his dimples perfectly on display for the world to appreciate.

“Hey! This is for you,” Eddie thrust the flowers forward. “Actually, they are for your Mom but… yeah.”

“You bought my Mom flowers?” Dottie said, disbelief present in her tone as her fingers brushed against his chunky rings when she accepted the bouquet, skin bristling at the contact.

“Yeah, you like ‘em? The purple ones are rosemary and the white ones are, uh, bellflowers? The lady at the shop said there are, like, a million white flowers that look like bells so I picked the prettiest ones,” he dropped his backpack on the armchair in the living room and followed her to the kitchen.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you pick these?”

“Well, I kinda… borrowed your flower book?” he admitted, leaning on the kitchen island to watch her fill a glass vase and start arranging the flowers. “The one you and Jeff were talking about at lunch? It’s in my bag.”

“Wait, what? When did you grab it? I didn’t even notice it was gone.”

“Yesterday, when you left me alone in your room to go get snacks. D’you have any more of those strawberries? They were so good.”

“Yes, but you can’t eat them. We need them for the cake,” Dottie cut a few long stems until she was happy with how her vase looked and tied the silver ribbon that the bouquet had been bound with around the glass. “So if you stole my book, what do these mean?”

“I didn’t steal it, I was gonna give it back!” he said, faking being offended at her accusation before he dropped the act and stared down at his hands. “The, um- the rosemary is remembrance. The bell flowers are gratitude.”

“Gratitude? For my Mom?” she searched for his eyes with her own but he kept looking at his rings.

“Just wanted to thank her, y’know,” he looked up at her after a pause. “For giving me you.”

“Shit, Ed, you can’t say things like that without a warning, you’re gonna make me cry!” she fanned her face with her hand, voice playful but eyes full of very real tears. “Thank you, you’re… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled shyly, reaching across the island to grab a flower out of the vase and bump her nose with it.

She giggled, taking the long stem from his fingers and setting it behind her right ear before turning around towards the counter where baking supplies were neatly laid out. She picked up two envelopes: one was the now familiar soft pink rectangle she had been carrying in her backpack all week but the other one was unassuming plain white. She slid the white one across the ceramic countertop; Eddie opened it to find a Garfield themed Mother’s Day card, the orange cat grinning on the front of the glossy paper. A pen entered his line of vision and he looked up to see Dottie nervously staring at him.

“I got you your own card,” she explained, clicking the pen and offering it to him. “Thought maybe you’d like to join my little ritual later.”

“Ritual?”

“I write down the things I want to say to my Mom and then I burn the card. It’s dumb, you know I don’t really believe in, like, the afterlife or whatever but… Dunno. Feels like the words reach her if I burn it.”

“No, I get it,” he reassured her. “So I can write whatever I want?”

“Yeah! I mostly just update mine on how everything’s going. About my Dad, and school, stuff like that. Like leaving a message on her answering machine.”

“Okay, I can do that,” he smiled. “I’ll join your ritual.”

“Yeah? Okay, cool! I’ll… I’ll get started on the cake while you do that then.”

Happy to have a task to focus on instead of staring at him for an hour, Dottie opened a bottom drawer and took out a dark green apron with a tiny lemon pattern, quickly tying it behind her back with a thin bow. Eddie watched her move around her kitchen with ease, measuring ingredients and lining up a cake pan with parchment paper like she’d done it a thousand times. He supposed she’d had; kids with hard childhoods always knew their way around ovens and knives. It was simply a matter of survival: sometimes you were hungry and there weren’t any adults around even if the grownups in your life weren’t neglectful, like Wayne or James. Eddie looked down at Garfield’s large face printed on the paper and began spilling everything that was rattling inside his brain through his pen. He wrote, and wrote, and wrote until the left side of the opened card was full and had no more space to write on, so he continued writing on the backside.

He told his Mom about Wayne while Dottie mixed flour, cornstarch, baking powder, and salt. He promised her he’d graduate this year while hearing the sounds of two eggs being cracked, the overwhelming sweetness of vanilla extract filling the air. He confided that he didn’t feel as lonely as before anymore, that he thought he finally had great friends, a club that looked up to him, a band that made him proud. He asked her not to worry about him anymore when Dottie poured the batter into a round pan and offered him the spoon to lick. And thus, Eddie wrote to her Mom about the girl he had a growing crush on, how he felt like he didn’t have to hide anything from her because she understood him in ways that other people had never understood, and how desperately he hoped she would look at him in the same way he saw her. If he had lifted his head up when he was putting the card back into the envelope, he would have seen Dottie sneaking glances at him while she cut strawberries and realized that he didn’t have to hope for anything anymore; Dottie already looked at him with stars in her eyes even if he didn’t think he was worthy of it yet.

With the cake baking in the oven for the next 30 minutes, all the strawberries cut in half, and the homemade jam finishing its 48 hour setting period in the fridge, both teens sat down on cushy stools at the kitchen island to finish the half-done homework they had abandoned on Saturday after it got dark. They could hear James pottering about upstairs, cleaning the bathroom while listening to the radio. He was singing along to West End Girls by the Pet Shop Boys - “the latest #1 on the Billboard Hot 100” the announcer had said. James didn’t really like the Pet Shop Boys, but he had heard it so much on the radio during the last couple of months that he couldn’t be blamed for knowing the lyrics by heart at that point.

“You done?” Eddie asked, gathering his stuff and shoving everything into his backpack.

“Yeah- yeah, I’m done,” Dottie said, moving to clear her stuff too. “Cake should be done in five, I think.”

“What’s next?”

“Wanna whip the cream while I do the glaze?”

“Sure. You’re gonna have to guide me though,” his face lit up in a mischievous smile. “And I’m gonna need one of those cute little aprons you’ve been hiding from me too.”

“You get plain dark blue,” she said, going through the drawer. “Or… I can offer you a “Kiss the Cook” apron with a big red heart on it?”

“Princess, you already know which one I want,” he batted his eyelashes at her. “Besides, it matches my scrunchie!”

Dottie tried to contain her giggles with no success when he tied his hair up into a bun with the red scrunchie that had found permanent residence in the depths of her empty fruit bowl, twirling around to show off his new hairdo. He bowed his head so she could slip the apron around his neck, leaving the tying up to him and fetching the ingredients for their next tasks. She separated them into two small piles, his ingredients to the right, hers to the left.

“To make whipped cream you put heavy cream in this,” she slid a bowl in front of him. “And you use the mixer to whisk it until it gets a bit bubbly. Then, you add the sugar and the vanilla extract, and you mix until it’s not runny anymore.”

“How much of everything?” he asked, pushing his sleeves to his elbows.

“One tablespoon of sugar and one teaspoon of vanilla extract.”

“The tablespoon is the big one, right?”

“Yes, chef,” she said, juicing a lemon for her glaze.

They worked together in relative silence, the loud sounds of the mixer drowning any words they could say. Eddie found out that he could draw on the cream when it got a bit more stiff, and quickly proceeded to spend the next few minutes drawing penis shape after penis shape into the mixture. He thought it was hilarious until Dottie unplugged the electric appliance, shaking her head at his antics. He got the cake out of the oven while she finished up her glaze, concentrating on not burning her concoction heating up on the stovetop.

“Do you always bake a cake for Mother’s Day?”

“Pretty much, yeah. It was my Mom’s favorite cake, it’s her recipe, so... Dunno, it feels nice. And I get to eat cake in the end so everything works out.”

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone make lemon glaze since I lived with my Grandma for three months,” he said, fanning the cake with a takeaway menu to cool it down.

“That sounds fun. How old were you?”

“Eight. Stayed with her the whole summer. She made awful lemon bars, I mean that shit tasted like fuckin’ cardboard,” Dottie snorted at his horrified expression. “But she made the best apple pie I’ve ever had. I think I gained like 10 pounds that summer.”

“Just from apple pie?” she asked, adding the last bit of the lemon juice to the pot.

“And ice cream,” he smiled. “Best summer of my life.”

“Eddie?” she said softly. “Can I ask you something kind of personal?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“How old were you when you moved in with Wayne?”

“After that summer. Actually,” he snorted bitterly. “The only reason I got to stay with my Grandma all those months was because my Dad got himself locked up and didn’t think it was important to mention he had a kid.”

“What?”

“They found out I existed when the school year started. A teacher asked me about my summer and called Social Services. When they came to see me, they said my Grandma was too old to raise me, so Wayne asked for custody. Been living with him since then.”

“What happened to your Dad?” she turned off the heat and turned to look at him.

“He’s still in prison. Won’t get out until I’m in my thirties as far as I know. He’s an asshole so… I don’t really care about him, and Wayne doesn’t either. Never went to visit him. Shit, I don’t think he even knows where they’ve got him, and that’s his little brother.”

“I mean, you just said he was an asshole so…”

“Yeah, I did,” he let out a wry chuckle.

“What’s his name? It isn’t Edward, right?”

“No, my Mom chose Edward. His name’s Wyatt.”

“Ah, that sucks,” she shook her head, moving past him to cut the cake in half to start assembling. He looked at her questioningly. “Wayne and Wyatt? ‘Cause you like alliteration?”

“Doesn’t ruin it for me. Actually, you might like this - you know what other two names start with the same letter?” he leaned onto the counter next to her. She was still wearing a sprig of rosemary in her hair.

“Bilbo and Baggins?” she joked.

“Maureen and Margaret.”

Dottie stopped cutting, knife halfway into the soft vanilla sponge, and stared at him. Eddie was looking at the two envelopes laying side by side next to the flower vase, right hand twirling the rings on his left hand. She remembered a conversation she’d had with Ms. Kelly early on in February after the excitement of being the new kid had died down and everyone had forgotten about her, going back to their cliques and usual groups of friends without sparing a single glance at her. If you want others to open up to you, you have to be open with them too, Ms. Kelly had said, in that gentle voice she always talked to troubled students with.

As much as Eddie wore his heart on his sleeve, he wasn’t keen on talking about his past. He rarely offered up pieces of important information about his childhood, choosing to only share the inconsequential parts instead. Everything else was locked up tight in his chest, just like Dottie did with her deepest memories. She wondered if the reason he was being candid with her now was because she’d let him peek behind her curtains first on Friday night at Lover’s Lake. A key exchanged for a key.

“Your mom’s name was Maureen?” Dottie asked, resuming her cutting.

“Yeah. Wayne says everyone called her Mo.”

“That’s a pretty name,” she smiled. “Mo and Maggie. Maybe they would’ve been friends.”

“Yeah. That would’ve been nice. We could have introduced them.”

“I don’t know if I’d be in Hawkins if my Mom was still here, though,” she said, sliding a big spatula under the first layer of cake to move it to a different plate. “Don’t think we would have moved out of New York.”

“Dunno if I’d be here either,” Eddie admitted, watching her spread the whipped cream he had made on the cake. “My Mom wasn’t from Hawkins. I don’t really know where she was from, I asked but Wayne doesn’t know either so… Said she didn’t like talking about it ‘cause her parents kicked her out when they found out she was pregnant.”

“That’s actually so wretched.”

“I know, right? Like, I know my Dad was always a fucking asshole but it wasn’t her fault, she was barely 17.”

“How did she meet your Dad then? If she wasn’t from Hawkins.”

“As far as I know, she worked at a diner my Dad stopped at on his route. Wayne got him a job as a trucker when he turned 18. So he met my Mom there, dated her for like, three months at the most, and then I showed up to ruin everything,” Dottie scoffed at him but he continued. “She dropped out of high school, he brought her to Hawkins and I was born here. They got married when she turned 18 a few months later. Actually, my Grandma kinda forced them to get married. She really liked my Mom and didn’t want people to treat her like shit ‘cause she had a bastard child.”

“God, people sucked back then.”

“It was the ‘60s, The Beatles were the biggest band in the world, everything sucked back then.”

“Say that again and I’ll kill you in your sleep,” she deadpanned and he let out a huge snort, enjoying how easy it was to rile her up. “You were saying, though.”

“Nah, it’s just… If they were married, it didn’t look like I was an unhappy accident, y’know?” Eddie got a bit more serious. “Anyway, Wyatt didn’t really want to be a dad. He would get in his truck and leave for days, and then when he came back he treated my Mom like shit. I don’t remember much but my Grandma told me once that he used to hit her a lot. I mean, I was his own personal punching bag so that shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does but still.”

“Jesus Christ,” she breathed out.

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen him and my Mom died when I was three, that’s why I don’t really remember anything,” he said, but he did. He remembered everything about Wyatt Munson; every hit, every insult, every scream. He cleared his throat. “After that, my Dad quit his job and started working at Brimborn before it closed down.”

“Brimborn… That’s the abandoned warehouse on Cherry Lane, right?”

“Cherry Oak Drive.”

“There’s like three different roads with “cherry” in their names in Hawkins, it’s so dumb.”

“Nobody said we were very original around here,” he chuckled.

Dottie moved around the kitchen to go find the strawberry jam she’d made a few days prior and found him still staring at the cards when she turned. He wasn’t crying at the memories, he didn’t even look sad. Just… resigned. Like he’d gotten used to things being shit all the time so it was a waste of time to get upset about them anymore. She left the jar on the counter and wrapped her arms around Eddie’s waist, her chest colliding with his back, her face buried between his shoulder blades.

“I’m so happy Wayne was there for you. He’s a great man.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice uncharacteristically soft, hands curling around hers. “Sometimes… sometimes I used to wish he was my real Dad, y’know?”

“He is.”

They stayed like that in the middle of Dottie’s kitchen, a million different things running through their heads: the dead mothers that shared the first letter of their names, the men that had raised them, and the people who had cared for them along the way. There was love to be found here in this kitchen, they both knew it. Only time would tell what it could turn into - what it would turn into - but for now, this friendship that only seemed to grow stronger every day was more than they had dreamed of when they first met in that dark props room thanks to the one and only Dustin Henderson. Maybe a Thank You note was in order.

Eddie thought it was very fitting that there wasn’t a bit of sunshine to be found as they stepped out into the backyard to begin what Dottie kept calling her “little ritual”. He held their envelopes carefully, one on each hand, while he watched her shove bits of craft paper and small branches into an empty bucket of paint, a box of matches resting on the floor next to her sneakers. She grabbed one and lit it on fire, throwing it into the can that had been scrubbed clean of any traces of paint ages ago and was now used as a regular bucket of water to douse the embers whenever James felt like using the grill. Wordlessly, she took her envelope from him and knelt in front of the can with her eyes closed, pressing the paper to her chest for a few seconds before lifting it up to her lips for a quick kiss, letting it fall onto the flames. She watched how the fire consumed her written words for a moment and went back to stand next to her friend.

She didn’t give him any indications as to what to do, simply choosing to let her hands fall in front of her, right hand twirling the ring on her left middle finger, eyes never leaving the flames. Eddie took her solemn silence as permission to approach the metallic can, kneeling on one knee and dropping his card inside. It was a strange feeling, he reckoned, to be sharing such an intimate and private moment with Dottie, and yet knowing that his words would never be read by her or any other person. Whatever he’d said in his letter was between him and the wind that he hoped would reach his Mom’s ears. I guess that’s the point of the ritual, he thought, moving back to his spot next to the pensive girl.

“It’s my fault,” she mumbled, gaze still stuck to the orange dancing in front of them and yet so far away from what she was actually seeing. “It’s my fault she’s dead.”

He turned to look at her, eyebrows meeting in the middle. Eddie had never seen her look so defeated. He wondered how he’d never noticed it before: the weight of the guilt she was carrying on her shoulders, the deep seated shame in the pit of her stomach that felt all too familiar to him, the vacant space within her eyes. It was like looking into a mirror that he’d been trying to ignore for so long. He reached out to her, his right hand wrapping around her left, rings brushing against each other’s, and squeezed tightly.

“She knew she was sick while she was pregnant and delayed her treatment for me. I killed her.”

“Dot, you know that’s not right.”

“Isn’t it? She knew it was me or her, and she chose me,” she held on tighter to his hand. “Sometimes… god, sometimes I wish she’d chosen herself instead. And it’s not that I want to be dead, I swear it’s not about that, but… it wasn’t fair. Not to her, not to my Dad. And it wasn’t fair to me either.”

“It’s my fault my Mom’s dead,” Eddie said, moving his fingers to intertwine with hers. She turned to him, both sets of wet brown eyes finding each others’ in the backyard. “It was the last day of preschool before the Winter holidays and I wanted pizza, so she went out to go get it. A drunk guy ran her over. She never saw it coming. My Dad wasn’t even in town. She died alone on the side of the road and with a fucking 2x1 pizza coupon in her coat pocket.”

“Eddie, you couldn’t have known. That wasn’t your fault-”

“It wasn’t yours either but you’re still gonna blame yourself for the rest of your life, aren’t you?” his lower lip trembled and they both squeezed tighter. The skin stretching over their knuckles was as white as the bellflowers in the kitchen. “They were adults, they made their own choices but you’re always gonna think about what you could have done differently, even if you didn’t know how to wipe your own ass yet.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she insisted. “That drunk asshole should be to blame, not you.”

“It wasn’t your fault either,” he said, matching her intensity. “You didn’t make her sick, that just happens sometimes and it’s no one’s fault.”

“It is! It’s my fault she didn’t get the treatment she should have gotten!”

“And it’s my fault my Mom was out there that night because I wanted pizza,” he lifted the hand that wasn’t holding onto hers and cupped the side of her face, thumb brushing away an angry tear. “If you’re not gonna stop blaming yourself, then I won’t stop either. You can’t have it both ways, Dot. Either we both move on, or we stay here together because fuck if I know who else to talk about this shit with.”

“It’s not fair,” she pouted, head falling forward until it hit his chest, his hand sliding into her hair.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, taking a deep breath.

There was nothing else to be said, nothing left to clarify or explain. There were no words to soothe the pain, because it was so embedded into who they were as people that no amount of comfort would ever patch up the wounds that had healed badly and left deep scars that would never completely disappear. Margaret and Maureen were no longer there, and Eddie and Dottie had to move on. They weren’t sure how, and by God if they hadn’t tried to do so all these years, but it felt a lot easier to forgive yourself when someone else was walking down that road with you.

Dottie sobbed quietly against Eddie’s chest, head bowed with his right hand tangling into her curls, cupping the back of her head. Eddie let his own tears fall, his cheek pressed onto her crown, thumb brushing the exposed skin behind her ear. In the silence filled with paper and wood crackling inside the paint bucket, they thought about how much they longed for something they couldn’t even remember having, and how their rusty padlocks were starting to fall limp at their feet. How even when their brains were miles away from their bodies, they still anchored each other down, hearts beating in sync and hands holding hands, Eddie’s thick mood ring on his right hand clashing against Dottie’s only dainty band; her Mom’s engagement ring glinting on her left middle finger.

Suddenly, she startled him by laughing softly through her tears, bringing their joined hands between their chests. He peered at her face curiously, waiting for her to speak.

“She would have fucking loved you,” she said, looking up at him with a big smile and shining eyes.

“Yeah?” he smiled back.

“I told my Auntie Rachel about you, and she said that she wants to meet you. That you remind her of my Mom.”

“I do?”

“It’s because she was the glue. She was the one that introduced everyone in the group, they are all friends because of her. And that’s what you do for us with Hellfire. You’re our glue.”

“You know,” he stopped his sentence to chuckle. “Wayne said something like that about you too.”

“Yeah?”

“He said that you boss me around like my Mom did with him,” he laughed. “And that you always tidy up his coffee table like she did.”

“That’s so embarrassing,” she laughed with him.

“I think Wayne likes you more than he likes me,” he whispered conspiratorially. “But I know my Mom would have loved you too.”

“Eddie? If I wanted to get a tattoo to honor my Mom-”

“I’m taking you to get it when you turn 21. It’ll be your birthday present, I promise. Just… wait until you’re 21 so I can take you to a nice shop, because mine look really awesome but it’s honestly a miracle I’m not dead,” she snorted loudly. “I’m serious! I don’t think the guy washed his hands since he came back from Vietnam.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll wait. But you gotta promise we’ll still be friends in three years.”

“Oh, princess, I’m a ride or die. No getting rid of me now, sorry.”

“Good. Didn’t want to get rid of you anyways.”

While Dottie was inside setting up the TV to watch The Wizard of Oz, Eddie excused himself to the backyard for a smoke. He ran through everything that had happened between them that week, starting with their argument about his moldy ceiling all the way until the last ten minutes when she was still buried in his arms. Being vulnerable wasn’t something that came easy to Eddie; he was way too used to covering everything up in leather and sarcasm, but now that he’d started shedding the layers, it was surprisingly liberating to keep going, especially when he kept being rewarded by Dottie letting down her barriers too. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t realize James had slipped out into the backyard too and was walking towards him, glancing at the pile of ashes at the bottom of the metallic can.

“She got you to join her ritual?” James asked, coming to a stop next to the younger man who was smoking under the patio roof.

“It was interesting. I enjoyed it,” he said, the right corner of his lips twitching upwards into a soft smile. He offered his pack of cigs to James, who shook his head, hands in his pockets.

“No, thank you. Haven’t smoked in years.”

“I should probably stop smoking but it’s hard when my Uncle does it too.”

“I know what you mean, my parents are smokers,” James said, nodding. “I only stopped because Maggie got pregnant and she hated the smell on my clothes. Said it made her want to throw up.”

“Dot hates it too,” Eddie chuckled. “She’s always wrinkling her nose when we smoke near her.”

“She does it to my mother too, don’t take it personal.”

Eddie didn’t really know what else to say so he stayed quiet, busying himself with his cigarette. He knew Dottie hated the fact that he and Donny smoked, but despite that, she’d never told them to not do it. Instead, she moved around them to stand next to Gareth or Jeff, away from the wind that blew the smoke into her space until they were done indulging in their vices. She had never complained about the smell either; the only time they’d heard her say anything negative about it was when she said that her Grandma liked smoking inside her kitchen while sitting next to an opened window and that the smoke made her cough, so Eddie tried not to smoke in the van when he was driving her around. He tapped the butt to the sole of his boot and saved it in the little cardboard box, fully intending on throwing it in the trash when he came back inside when James cleared his throat.

“Eddie, do you mind if we have a talk? Man to man,” he said, his tone friendly but firm.

“Y-yeah, of course. Is there a problem, sir?” Eddie’s palms were sweating. He had seen this coming but didn’t think it would happen so soon.

“No, actually I wanted to thank you,” James began. “Dottie told me what you did for her on Friday, that was… very thoughtful of you.”

“Oh,” he was surprised. “I… You don’t have to thank me. I don’t know if she told you but… I haven’t been a very good friend lately and I wanted to apologize to her. That’s all.”

“Well, either way, thank you. Proms and school dances are… a touchy subject for her, you know? Not a lot of good memories. Just- thank you for making her senior prom special.”

“Of course,” Eddie said, scratching the skin under his watch. “We’ll make sure she has a good prom. And if- if you want us to bring her back at, like, a certain hour, we- we can totally do that too. We’ll look out for her.”

“I know,” the older man smiled at him, noticing how nervous he looked. Eddie might be almost 20 but he was still a little boy trying to impress the father of the girl he liked; James supposed he’d looked the same when he’d started dating Maggie. “You’re good kids, all of you. And Dottie’s never really had good friends before so… if she’s happy, I’m happy.”

“I’m glad. That’s she’s happy, I mean,” he hurried to say. “Not that she had bad friends before. That part sucks, she’s… she’s great and I’m glad I- glad we got to meet her and… stuff.”

“You all mean a lot to her, but you… You’re very important to her. You know that, don’t you, Eddie?” James said, and Eddie felt very much like he was being tested.

“She’s important to me too, sir.”

James smiled, satisfied with the boy’s answer. He understood now the glee his father-in-law felt whenever he made him squirm, it was very enjoyable. It was in good faith though, Roger had never outright disrespected him, and James didn’t intend on doing it to Eddie either, but he supposed it was his God given right to mess with the kid a little bit as the father of a teenage daughter. Maybe one day Eddie would understand it too.

“Everything alright?” Dottie said, popping her head out of the kitchen backdoor and looking at the two men standing on the grass with curiosity.

“Yeah, just two guys having a manly talk. You know, about sports and stuff,” James said.

“You only watch sports when the Olympics are on.”

“I also watch the Super Bowl,” he argued.

“You never watch the rest of the season, what’s the point?”

“It’s fun,” he said, turning to Eddie. “Right, Ed?”

“Only reason I watch is because Wayne makes the best spicy wings in Hawkins,” he grinned. “Sorry, sir.”

“You two are missing out,” James shook his head, jesting. “Gonna watch The Wizard of Oz?”

“Yeah, wanna join?”

“Nah, I’m gonna go lay down for a bit. I’ll take a piece of cake though.”

Later that day, when they were hanging out on the couch stuffing their faces full with vanilla sponge and strawberry jam while watching Judy Garland and her merry gang of new friends walk down the yellow brick road, Dottie eyed Eddie suspiciously until he turned to her, whipped cream staining his upper lip.

“Okay, spill.”

“Wha’?” he asked, cheeks full of cake.

“What were you and my Dad talking about outside?”

“Manly stuff,” he swallowed quickly. “Can’t tell you. If you knew, I’d have to kill you, it’s the law.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she giggled, stealing a strawberry from his plate.

He gasped in horror but still let her do it, because she was important to him and he’d do anything to keep that smile on her face, including tearing down the walls he’d carefully built around himself all throughout his life. And hopefully, by shedding that weight, she’d be able to get rid of hers too, and Mo and Maggie could be proud of them for finally moving on.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean

#bunny writes #small town fic #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn #baby's first fic

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fanfic-corner · 1 year ago

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Marvel Humor Fics

As much as I love angst, I also love to laugh at some of the predicaments my poor blorbos get into! So here are some of my favourite humor fics from the Marvel fandom.

He's a Real... Bare... Devil? by 94BottlesOfSnapple (772)

The real problem with no longer wearing body armor, Matt considers, is not actually the higher risk of injury. It’s that sometimes even when you don’t get hurt, you still end up mostly-naked in an alley that smells like day-old Chinese takeout.

Daredevil manages to lose his clothes while on patrol with the Defenders. They only make fun of him a little.

Footie Pajamas by Triscribe (1.1k)

*What?* Tony demanded. *What is it, what’s wr-*

“Ohmygosh, Mister Stark! It’s too cute!” Peter beamed from ear to ear. “There’s a little girl in the car next to me wearing Spider-man footie pajamas!”

Silence reigned for a long moment, before Tony burst out laughing.

How (Not) to Meet New People by aloneintherain (1.4k)

“Why is there a teenager in our office?”

Foggy stood in the threshold of the office, mouth slightly agape, most likely wondering if he’d walked into the wrong building. The kid waved at him, smile huge under a blooming black eye and spilt lip.

“Foggy,” Matt said, far too calm for someone who was in the presence of a beaten, bloodied, teenage stranger. “This is Peter.”

oh, jesus, not the both of you! by FRAMEW0RK (1.6k)

He’s gonna pass out.

Yup, it’s happening. Foggy can only tell because he’s passed out before, when he was twelve, after he got his finger smashed in the large metal door of their cooler. The intense pain first. Then the cold flash, then the sweating, and then the spots surrounding the corners of his vision. All of that was going on. In the middle of a courtroom. Surrounded by tons of watching people.

“Mr. Nelson?” the Judge calls out. He probably looks awful. His mother told him that he went deathly pale before he passed out the first time. Didn’t she take a video? He remembers there being a video. Is the room spinning or is that just him?

“I think ’m passing out,” Foggy mumbles thickly, hand flailing out for purchase but getting nothing on his fingers. The world was starting to go underwater. Someone yelled, and then there’s this gasping sound all around and then there’s darkness and nothing.

Team Red by SalazarTipton (1.9k)

“Ned, for the last time, I’m not going as any of the Avengers! Can you imagine what would happen if they found out? They’d think I had a favorite and--” “But you do have a favorite,” Ned interjects. Peter throws one of his fries at him. “That’s not the point! They don’t know that and can I remind you that you’re forbidden to talk about that? Going to the Tower would be hellish. Can you imagine Mr. Barton and Mr. Stark trying to prove they’re the better choice?”.

when the pretty birds have flown (honey, I'm still free) by the_crown_jules (2.1k)

“I can talk to birds,” Sam said, a little more loudly than the situation warranted.

Bucky's lips twitched, a battle playing out between his attempt to take Sam seriously and his clear desire to snicker. Laughter won out, lighting up his face in a way that was becoming more and more familiar.

“You’re such an asshole. Okay, Torres, I assume you’re listening, you can go now, you’ve had your fun.” He looked around as if he’d be able to spot Torres watching them on camera. “What is this, Falcon initiation?”

New Year's Regrets by whumphoarder (2.5k)

In the midst of hosting his annual New Year’s party, Tony is called away to rescue a very impaired Peter from a rooftop in Queens.

Happy Hibernation Day by for_the_night (2.7k)

Tony and Pepper return to the tower on Valentine’s Day to find Peter asleep on the couch. Only he won’t wake up.

Good job neither pseudo-parent panics.

throw all your lucky coins on me by keep_swinging (3.2k)

i. shock (denial) ii. pain (guilt) iii. anger (bargaining) iv. depression v. the upward turn vi. working through vii. acceptance (hope)

Sorta Kinda Kidnapped by happyaspie (3.5k)

Peter gets kidnapped on his way to school. It's fine, though. He's perfectly capable of saving himself. It happens so fast and it's so uneventful that he forgets to tell Tony it even happened. Until the kidnappers call to collect their ransom.

Not Completely the Worst by mainstreamelectricalparade (4k)

Peter's spidey-sense had been going off all day. If he had to stay at school for literally another minute longer, he was probably going to go insane.

And of course, there was one person at school whose single goal in life seemed to be ensuring that that happened.

“Yo, Penis! Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Flash called after Peter as he took the steps three at a time in his attempt to make a quick getaway.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation and kept walking. Maybe if he ignored the problem, it would go away.

Because that had always worked so well for him, in the past.

Don’t Judge a Knife by Its Color by blondsak and Grace_d and whumphoarder (4.4k)

“Whoa, hold up, hang on,” he says, taking a step closer to get a better look. The blade is probably four inches long and neon purple, while the handle is white with a friendly-looking colorful silicon grip. “Is that a toy knife? Is this a Fisher Price mugging?”

“Fuck you, Spidey,” the mugger replies, fumbling for the knife before scrambling back to his feet and brandishing the weapon at Peter.

Or, Peter is stabbed by a misleading knife, Tony plays a high stakes game of Operation, and May retains the one brain cell.

Dollicia Elizabeth Cowleen the Third by Spideypool_supremacy (4.6k)

Peter frowned. "Why do you have such an obsession with that cow?"

"Getting jealous, Pumpkin?"

Peter looked at him, unimpressed. "Oh no. A cow is stealing all your affection. Whatever will I do." He said sarcastically.

Wade grinned. "Don't worry, Petey. I love you both the same."

"That's actually insulting."

quaranteens by blueh (6.6k)

“Peter Parker,” Cindy says. Peter’s head snaps up so fast that it almost looks inhuman. “Did Tony Stark just waltz in and pick up his child in the background of your Zoom call?”

Peter freezes. Wide-eyed, with ‘guilty’ written on his forehead in 72, bold, Times New Roman font. It takes a solid thirty seconds before he can put himself together enough to click the unmute button.

“I—no?” Peter says. His voice is startlingly high pitched and his expression is nothing short of horrified.

Damn, if that isn’t anything but a confession.

The Glass of Sand and Fog [Fan Comic] by neonbrutalism (7k)

"To be honest, I think time is scary enough without a giant axe clock." "What, worried about getting old? Daredeviling getting hard on your knees?" "No, no... It's hard to explain."

Another day, another villain, another kidnapping. Foggy gets kidnapped, Matt avoids awkward conversations, they both suffer from an inability to talk about their feelings and Kirsten is no help at all!

Learning To Say Hello by heartsdesire456 (11k)

Clint had woken up one morning about three weeks ago (Well, Clint guessed about three. Definitely more than one. Maybe.) and stumbled down to the living room only to realize there was a guy on his couch. The guy just happened to be the Winter Soldier, who Clint knew was actually Steve’s old best friend, Bucky Barnes.

Barnes had been having a staring contest with Lucky (one eye shut, to make it fair, Clint had noticed) and Clint had decided to just leave him to it and make decisions after he’d had some coffee.

(In which Hawkeye befriends the Winter Soldier and discovers the Epic Love Story of Steve and Bucky nobody knows about)

but what is a hero, really? by mjscorner (17k)

"Flash," Peter pleaded breathlessly, "you don't want to do this, okay? They're armed. Trust me, you don't understand."

"No, I think I do understand," Flash scoffed, unsurprised. "You've been a loser your whole entire life, but everyone here still adores you. Well, I'm done dealing with that, okay? Time for me to be a hero."

Peter's heart sank as Flash bumped into his shoulder and marched forward.

He stopped before rounding the corner when the faint sound of a gun being cocked echoed throughout the hall, freezing Flash right in his place. Peter turned on his heel in an instant, standing beside Flash protectively.

"But-but what is a hero, really?" Flash croaked with a nervous smile, side-eyeing the weapon suspended beside him as it softly nudged the side of his skull.

Peter slowly raised his hands in surrender, staring at Flash until he did the same, dropping the cans of pepper spray and the walkie talkies.

"We are so, so, so monumentally screwed."

Let Me Know if It Gets Above a Six by Sundial_at_Night (65k)

“Mr. Loki?” asked the Spider cautiously. “Aren’t you—like—a bad guy?” he asked, voice full of only curiosity, as far as Loki could tell.

His first thought was, yes.

His second thought was no.

His third thought was, sometimes?

“It varies from moment to moment,” Loki answered honestly, prying his eyes open after they threatened to fall close.

“But on a scale of one to ten, where are you at right now?”

“Maybe a three?”

The Spider-child nodded. “Cool,” he replied. “Let me know if it gets above a six.

The Devil's Hangin' 'Round My Doorstep by 94BottlesOfSnapple (96k)

There’s a lot of things Matt Murdock doesn’t allow himself. His best friend is one of them. But put on a mask and suddenly everything seems so freely available, Foggy included. On the other side of the coin, Foggy’s still trying to stifle his big bisexual crush on his best friend and has no idea what to think of the vigilante who’s suddenly and inexplicably taken an interest in him.

it's always who is spider-man, never how is spider-man by i_regret_thatpersonalityquiz (176k)

"Stay?"

Peter finally looked down to see Harley Fucking Keener, Iron Lad, the boy who had caused his shoulder to be throbbing all night, looking away with a slight tint to his cheeks. Peter opened and closed his mouth, no sound coming out.

And he sat back down.

OR: Peter had been living on the streets, dealing with your average homeless vigilante stuff. Things got a bit more complicated when the Avengers started to chase him down.

I hope you enjoy these!! I'll have to make a part two at some point because there's so many brilliant fics to share. Thank you to all the fabulous writers who shared these fics with us, and happy reading!

#marvel #mcu #humor #fic recs #ao3 #lina lore #irondad #sambucky #daredevil #mattfoggy

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