#awkward reader

[garden-h0bbit]

𝕊𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: After getting a terrible grade on your Charms essay, you finally gather enough courage to ask Remus to tutor you, but your much worse at Charms than he thought.

Warnings: Light swearing

Masterlist

Part 2; Part 3

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.: :･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.: :･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ

Dreadful… of course, you got a Dreadful for your Charms essay, you could hardly ever perform the incantations correctly, much less perform the spells, every time you tried to cast a spell you saw Professor Flitwick’s eyes go wide in fear.

You can feel his pitiful gaze on you and avoid his eyes, instead, you look around the classroom, your gaze landing upon Remus Lupin, chatting wildly with his hands as he talks to Lily. The redhead was eagerly nodding along and you smiled subconsciously at how excited Remus was, if only you were half as good at Charms as he was, perhaps you would get an Acceptable or maybe even an Outstanding. You were pretty sure he got an Outstanding for every single subject, Merlin, he was amazing in Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, DADA, everything. To top it all off he was a prefect, the model student, the child every parent wishes they had, but behind the fake smiles he gave to all his Professors, he had a sharp tongue, a sharp wit about him with a knack for planning very intricate pranks.

“Ahem-“Professor Flitwick clears his throat and softly says your name as he stops at your table. “May we have a word after class? I need to speak to you about something important,” he asked quietly over the loud murmuring of students and you nodded. “Right then!” He says as he walks on over to the front of the classroom. ”On with the lesson, today we’ll be learning about-” Professor Flitwick’s voice droned on and your mind wandered. You looked back over to where Remus sat, only to find him looking at you, he offered a small smile and turned his attention back to Flitwick. Goodness, he was perfect, pretty eyes, a pretty face too, pretty messy brown hair, and scars that littered his body, even when having to occasionally walk with a cane he was majestic.

The clocktower bell rang and suddenly all the students began packing away their belongings, rushing to be the first out of class so that they could arrive at lunch first. You stood up and waited for most students to leave and then approached Professor Flitwick. “You wanted to speak to me professor?” you asked timidly, “Ah, yes!” He says with a warm smile, ”You see I’ve noticed that you’re starting to struggle with Charms more than usual. I would never want one of my students to struggle, as much as I would love to help you myself I’m much too busy so I thought you could try asking one of your classmates to help you. We have many students who are amazing at Charms, like perhaps Miss Evans, Miss Meadowes, Mr. Potter or maybe even Mr. Lupin. I wouldn’t want you to fail the year just because of one class, especially not when I can do something about it.” he said warmly and you nodded. “Now off you go, go enjoy lunch, I heard we’re getting some pie!” he says happily and you grab your belongings and leave the classroom.

Failing Charms… you sigh, you couldn’t fail Charms, what type of witch or wizard fails Charms? But who would ask for help? Dorcas? No, you barely know her. Lily? You sigh, also no… you’ve only briefly exchanged smiles in the hall. James… you’d rather not. That only leaves Remus, awkward but very good-looking Remus, the same Remus that makes you stumble over your words like an idiot. You would most definitely embarrass yourself in front of him. That wouldn’t end well… but you desperately needed help and he was amazing at Charms. Fine, you would ask for him to tutor you.

Walking down towards the Great Hall, you spot Lily, Mary and Remus all talking. You take a deep breath, this is it, you speed up a bit, trying to catch up with them. Over the chatting of students, you can very clearly hear Lily complaining about something James said to her. “Remus?” you ask quietly once you are close enough, Lily abruptly stops her story and gives you a small smile as all three turn to face you. “Could I talk to you privately? Just for a second it won’t take long, I promise,” you ramble and he nods, waving bye to Lily and Mary as they walk away.

“I was just wondering since I know you always do amazing in Charms, if there was any way that you would help tutor me? Just this once!” you add nervously, your cheeks a soft red colour. You were too nervous to meet his eyes but you could feel his hand on your shoulder, he gave it a soft squeeze and he nodded, “Of course, I’ll tutor you, why wouldn’t I?” He asks with a warm smile, but you didn’t miss the faint pink colour of his ears. “Would this Saturday be fine? At around ten thirty at the Library?” He proposed, you felt like you couldn’t speak so you just awkwardly nodded and then excused yourself to go have lunch, leaving him alone. Curse your awkwardness, you finally speak to him and all you can get out is a bit of rambling and a nod then you run off like a coward.

Early Saturday morning comes and it’s a perfect day, it was softly raining outside, covering the Scottish mountains in a thick layer of mist. Most of your roommates had left already, but you had slept in a bit, since you were tired from staying up late last night practicing some spells, hoping to get some of them right to impress Remus, but it took longer than you would like to admit and still you were embarrassingly horrible at all of them. Yawning you look at the clock on your bedside table.

Shit.

Oh shit.

You scrambled out of bed, it was almost 10 am, and you not only missed breakfast but at this point, you were gonna be late for your study date- no, study session with Remus! You hurriedly dress, trying to at least pick a somewhat decent outfit, you still want to look nice for your study session. As you finish you quickly grab your wand and Charms textbooks and take off running.

You were running as quickly as you could, trying to avoid as many teachers and prefects as to not get told off for running in the halls. You reach the castle kitchens and tickle the pear on the painting and it swings open, revealing the kitchens that were filled with many house elves now starting to prepare lunch, you grab some breakfast for yourself as well as a sweet treat for Remus, or well sweet treats, since there were so many options and you couldn’t decide what to pick. You hoped this would make up for being late and you leave in a hurry and nearly sprint to the library.

Heaving you reach the library and open the giant doors, your senses as flooded with the scent of old books, many students are lounging about, reading a book or studying. You scan the library hoping to find Remus, but you can’t seem to find him. You start walking through the library to try and find him and after a bit of searching you find him at one of the tables in the far back corner of the library, one where you have a perfect view of the bits of sunrays highlighting his features, wait no, you meant where you could perfectly see the beautiful autumn landscape and hear the soft rain.

Clearing your throat you walk closer, he looks up and smiles at you. He was wearing one of his classic sweaters, that highlighted his face so well, and his hair was unruly but he looked perfect in your eyes, you could stare at him forever- Remus awkwardly clears his throat and your cheeks go red, damn it, he caught you staring, hopefully, you could play the flush off as the cold.

“I am so sorry I’m late! I overslept and missed breakfast and had to run to the kitchens all while trying to avoid any teachers and-“ you ramble, trying to explain yourself hoping that he wouldn’t be too upset with your tardiness but you were cut off by a soft chuckle coming from him. “It’s okay don’t even worry about it, I was actually worried I was gonna be the late one. I had to help the boys with something last minute and well, it took longer than expected,” he says kindly and accepts the sweet treat you offer to him. “Another prank?” you ask, hoping to make small talk to make this less awkward. He merely shrugs and gives a mischievous smile, you narrow your eyes at him but decide not to bug him about it. You take out the sweet treats you got him and give them to him and his eyes light up slightly, “For being late,” you say hurriedly. He lets out a chuckle and reaches for one, and for a brief moment his scarred hand meets yours and you could swear the world stopped. Your breath hitches and your heart starts pounding and you pull your hand away.

Sitting down you take out your textbooks, you take a deep breath to calm down, but Remus looks unfazed. “So what do you need help with, any spell in specific or just overall?” he inquires as he takes out his wand, you sigh “Just… everything really, I’m really bad at Charms for some reason. Can’t get the stupid spells to work right!” You complain and he listens carefully nodding as you speak. Why did he have to be such an attentive listener, he’s making it very hard for you to speak properly.

“How about we start with something simple then? What about Descendo?” he asks while you flip to the page containing the spell, taking a deep breath, “Descendo!” You say confidently and a faint blue light comes out of your wand and hits a bookshelf, causing all the books to come flying off the shelves and hitting the ground with a large thud. You go red and sink into your seat, wanting to disappear as Remus softly chuckles and you look across the room to meet the angry glare of Madam Pince. Remus being as sweet as ever quickly waves his wand and all the books levitate to their original position. “Sorry,” you say quietly, avoiding eye contact with him. “Nothing a bit of practice can’t fix,” he insisted warmly.

You and Remus spent the next two hours, working on many different spells, also telling a few jokes and stories in between, the hours flew by and you were dreading having to say goodbye. “Can I try one last Charm? Professor Flitwick said we should study up on this one,” you show him the spell you are referring to in your textbook. “Disillusionment Charm? Of course, but it’s quite tricky to perform,” he cautioned. He quickly performed the spell, causing himself to almost completely disappear, you could only notice his outline if you looked hard enough and then he transformed himself back. “Hard you say? How come you can do it perfectly then?” you tease. “Had some practice with the spell, very useful for sneaking around when you should be in bed.” he shrugs with a smile.

Taking a breath and focusing you quickly perform the spell, the white light coming out of your wand hit the table and went rogue, bouncing off the walls and finally hitting a fourth-year student’s head. In an instant their head disappeared, their friends gasped and started freaking out and screaming, and your eyes went wide. Looking to Remus he was toppled over the table laughing, and that was enough to ease your nerves and you soon joined in on laughing.

“Out! Out of my library! Now!” Madam Pince’s shrilly voice booms. While laughing you had missed the angry glare of Madam Pince and you hadn’t noticed her stalking her way towards you. Looking up at the sound of her voice, you look to Remus and you both quickly grab your belongings and leave the library still giggling about the situation.

Once the library was out of sight and you both had calmed down you turned to him, looking up at him and noticing the small smile he had on his face. “Thank you for all of your help, I really appreciate it!” he only nods and then starts speaking, “When are you available again?” You frown at his words and he must notice your puzzled expression because he starts explaining again, “I still need to help you with the Disillusionment charm, and we haven’t practiced all the spells yet,” his ears were turning a faint red colour. “Next Saturday? Same time?” you asked and he nodded. “Sounds good,” he assured and you smiled back, and in a haze of confidence you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, his eyes widened and his ears went redder. “I’ll see you later then.” You say and quickly walk away from him, cheeks flushed, surprised at your own confidence but giddy at the prospect of another study session with him.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.: :･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.: :･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ

Thank you sm for reading!

[maria-chwan]

Dreamy! Otherworldly! Inspiring! - Sanji fanfic feat. Fem!Reader

Contains: Sanji, Reader, Fem!Reader, Nami, Robin, Usopp, Luffy, Chopper, Undefined Relationship, Non-Dating Relationship, Close Relationship, Crewmates, Inexperienced Reader, Socially Awkward Reader

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"(Y/n)! Robin! The swimming area that Usopp has been preparing is ready for us!" Nami announced excitedly.

"Woop! I want to jump into the water NOW! Just gotta get these pants off- Come on clothes, work with me!" you grumbled while you were removing your clothes in a hurry.

Robin smiled and removed her big summerhat, wiping sweat off her forehead. You and Nami threw your clothes in a pile on the deck, revealing the swimsuits you were wearing underneath. Robin was not slow to undress either. All three of you were hungry for refreshing dip into the ocean.

In the sea there was an area that was surrounded by a floating fence that was attached to the ship. That was the swimming area. Soon the three of you were climbing down the ladder and jumping into the water.

"Waah! This is so nice!" Nami sighed and smiled cheerfully, floating in the sea with her head above water.

"What is that under the water? Is that a giant sea creature swimming towards us with their mouth open?" Robin wondered.

"WHERE?! OH MY GOD, WHERE?!" Nami screamed and jumped on Robin's shoulders, making Robin sink under water.

"Where is it?! Where?!" you questioned, scanning your surroundings in serious fear. Suddenly swimming didn't feel like such a good idea.

Robin pushed Nami off her shoulders and emerged from under the sea, coughing to get the water out of her throat before she put your worries to rest.

"I was tricking you. There is no sea creature", she admitted.

"What?! I can't believe I fell for that! Damn it, Robin! I'm gonna get you back for that!" Nami declared.

"Good job almost drowning her, Nami", you joked as a soft retaliation towards Robin.

Nami laughed and Robin grinned mischievously. You joined in the laughter and leaned back, feeling the ocean under you like a giant pillow.

"I wish we had brought some floaties down with us", Nami said and pouted.

"Got it", Robin said and gestured with her hand. Soon a bunch of extra-hands that were created by her Devil-Fruit-ability tossed a couple of floaties and floating parasols from the deck down to you.

You clapped your hands cheerfully in applause and thanked Robin. After the beginning shenanigans the three of you settled on the floaties, enjoying the cool water and the warm sun.

Suddenly you heard Sanji's voice shout from the deck.

"Thank you for blessing my eyes, my lovely ladies! It is true that devastating beauty is difficult to describe in words, so I describe the way you look in this moment, flaunting your hypnotizing looks, with just three words! Dreamy! Otherworldly! Inspiring! *long romantic sigh* Are you enjoying the swimming area that Usopp made for you?"

"We are! Thanks Usopp!" Nami shouted.

"You are welcome!" Usopp exclaimed cheerfully. "Maybe I'll join you! I'm almost ready with fixing the lifeboat!"

"I wanna swim too! I have my new duck floatie!" Luffy piped in.

"Me too! Me too!" Chopper exclaimed.

"No you won't, you ruffians!! Let the ladies relax and enjoy their moment of peace! Wait for your turn!" Sanji barked in fury.

"Hey! Not fair!" Luffy protested.

"Would you like me to keep these hooligans in check until you are ready to come out of the pool, my beautiful butterflies?" Sanji asked with a cheery smile.

You looked at Nami and Robin. You had catched Nami smiling softly when Sanji had forbidden Luffy and the others from ruining the peaceful moment you girls were having. Robin seemed to be also smiling in appreciation for Sanji.

You smiled. It didn't happen very often, but sometimes the girls liked to do something nice for Sanji. He deserved it.

You on the other hand... You did something nice for Sanji every day. How could you not? It was more like a mutual thing. Things couldn't have gone better with Sanji, you thought to yourself.

You had developed a habit of relaxing together with Sanji on the deck. It meant embracing each other, laying on top of each other, being close to each other. It was wonderful, very comforting, your moment of relaxation and happiness in the middle of your day.

It was simple. Not much to explain. You weren't dating. Sanji adored you, but didn't pursue a romantic relationship with you. You had told to him in the beginning that you were confused about how to interact with people in general. You had been aware that he was actively searching for a romantic partner, so you wanted to make sure that he understood that dating was unimaginable for you. He told you that he would accept you. You told him that you thought he was cool and you wanted to depend on him. Not date him, depend on him. And get to know him. He smiled and told you that you were always welcome to approach him.

Soon you added another thing in the things you wanted. You wanted to be close to him. And so you seeked him out more. At some point you started relaxing on the deck together in each others embrace.

He was not your boyfriend. He was your cool, charming, dependable crewmate. He didn't mind that you depended on him. He depended on you too. He let you help him in the kitchen. Sometimes he came to you, asking to hug you or lay on top off your body on the deck if you were already relaxing there. Sometimes at the same time while cuddling you he grumbled about Zoro, or cried about how Nami or Robin had rejected him. That was one thing that you could offer him. You could be somebody that wanted to cuddle with him and listen to him. He obviously appreciated all women and adored most of them, but you were the only one who let him be close to you often. So close that he could feel you in his arms for those long moments. His cute darling. He really appreciated you. Romantic or no.

"It's not a bother at all, I can keep these clowns away from your wonderful circle of goddesses as long as you want- " Sanji added while waiting for your answer.

"You don't need to do that", you hurried to interrupt him and added in a happy voice. "Why don't you come down here with us, Sanji? Come swim with us."

"You want me to- Seriously? But then I won't be able to keep these guys away- " Sanji asked, looking like he was in awe and disbelief.

"It's okay. Just come down here", you said cheerfully, looking at Nami and Robin. They looked back at you, smiling in agreement.

"Oh man! I'll be down in a second! Wait for me, ladies!" Sanji gushed from excitement and started to remove his clothes.

Usopp, Luffy and Chopper also took off their clothes, but they could not beat Sanji in the speed it took the cook to strip down into his underwear and jump into the ocean.

There was a big splash of water as Sanji landed in front of you in water. You cheered and threw your hands in the air, joining him in his display of joy.

"(Y/n)-chan! Can I spin you?" Sanji asked eagerly.

You nodded in delight and Sanji quickly looped his arms around your lower back, spinning you around in the water. He watched you with a big adoring smile and that smile widened when you started laughing. You laughed loudly and wildly, grabbing Sanji's shoulders to center yourself as he spun you around in excitement.

"This is like a dream!" Sanji spoke with happiness after he stopped spinning you around. "You look so pretty like a fairy on a flower and Nami-chan and Robin-san look like sparkling mermaids! I can't believe it! Thank you for calling me down here!"

You giggled. Sanji was glancing at Nami and Robin, flabbergasted by their charms. You smiled. Maybe he could have a nice talk with Nami or Robin today, or maybe even get a date with one of them.

Luffy, Usopp and Chopper jumped down in a chorus of loud and happy shouts. It looked like they had brought a volleyball with them. You detached yourself subtly from Sanji's arms, smiling at him.

"Nami and Robin agreed with me to invite you down here. Because you are great. Go talk with them if you want, I'm gonna play some volleyball", you said to Sanji, touching his shoulder in appreciation. Then you left him behind as you approached Luffy, Usopp and Chopper.

Sanji listened to your compliment and his eyes widened. Did you really appreciate him this much? He was unprepared for your boldness, but he felt happy and warm inside.

Then you told him to go flirt, leaving him behind as you approached the unruly boys.

"Yeah... Yeah! I think I will! Thanks!" Sanji managed to say before you left, his smile widening. He looked at Nami and Robin, feeling excited.

He was not going to let this opportunity go to waste.

[nommingonfood]

All aspects of Reader feel too real, the overthinking/planning, the crying in the shower, the horny thoughts, the "Stop being a slut. Pure thoughts." comment, and the awkwardness around your crush behavior. Like Matt, stop looking at me like that, I'm already trying to calm myself down after basically stalking your sexy pics.

Anyways, thank you for the food, I'm glad inspiration has struck.

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

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

Summary:

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

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.3k

ao3 link

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t know what to do.

You aren’t okay. 

You don’t feel safe. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You need to do what is best for Minnie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just not the ones you expected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have no doubt he could easily fuck someone stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In your bed.

Where Matt will not be. 

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

Which you still need to prepare.

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

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

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

You just need to stop thinking. 

But not in that way. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, you run instead.

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

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

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

You need to get to bed and away from him.

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

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

“How was..how was your night?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

“Good night.”

((“I love you.”))

--

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

Also - Tomorrow is a Big Day

--

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

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[ozzgin]

You never know who's sitting in the next booth.

[theorist-fox]

Can I interest you in some silly sex with Simon? 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

18+

Word count: 1k.

CW: nothing really. Just silly sex. Just giggling sex. Just I-need-to-give-this-man-some-humanity sex. Simon is ticklish and you find out, that's the plot.

Masterlist 🦊

You look delectable straddling his hips.

Naked and soft, plump tits sitting prettily in his hands. His thumbs swipe idly around your perked nipples as you ride him slowly, early morning sun peeking through the curtains and lapping at your skin. What a way to wake up, what a sight.

He stares at your lips and how they part for him—something he still has to get used to, though he probably never truly will. How dulcet does his name sound if it’s your voice whispering it, how beautiful your eyes when they take in his face.

Soft hands are pressed on his chest for leverage, and you’re treating him with a view he keeps pinned to the forefront of his brain—gliding your cunt until you’re chock-full of him, stroking yourself until you’re shivering.

He likes it when he’s on top, sure. He’s used to taking the lead and orchestrating every detail, in and out of the job. 

But when you allow him to sit back and take it? Hell, sign him up. He’d do it every day. Especially when it’s this lazy sex here, in which you’re canting your hips to cum before he does, giving him the blissful chance of feeling you clench around him when he's still hard. 

Goosebumps rise under your nails as they graze down his chest and brush his stomach. Your hands wander blindly on his belly, then his sides, as you clock his eyes with your heavy ones, panting softly, idly—my beautiful, beautiful girl.

But then you inadvertently brush his ribs, and he stiffens—even squirms, and your movements come to a halt.

You blink as conscience returns to you slowly, and the room sinks into tense silence. His cock twitches inside of you when you tilt your head inquisitively, squinting your eyes.

Experimentally, you brush your fingertips against his ribs again, and his biceps flatten to his sides, trapping your hands.

Your eyes widen, and his do the same.

“Don’t.”

You gasp, “Oh my God.”

“Darling, no.” He warns, but you’ve clearly made up your mind already.

Your lips are curled in a smile that promises mischief, and he can only give up, sit back, and count his losses.

“Darling, yes.”

Simon feels your fingers wiggle under the tight press of his arms, but no matter his strength, they're seemingly useless against that playful resolve you're displaying.

His cock is still embarrassingly hard inside you, and Simon reckons it won't soften any time soon. You don’t seem eager to get off him either, thus prolonging the torture with each tiny movement you make.

He inhales sharply and fights tooth and nail to school his expression into neutrality. His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is locked tight. The only thing giving him away is the flush of his cheeks, getting pinker by the second because he refuses to open his mouth to breathe a much-needed lungful of air. Knowing that if he would, he'd bark a laugh that would proclaim you as the winner of this fight.

He would never.

You roll your hips, then—cheap trick. He unravels with a shaky breath, and his biceps give out enough for you to slip your hands away.

And then, he knows he's done for.

“Cut it out.” He barks, trying to sound stern and miserably failing. He knows because you're laughing even harder.

Your fingers feel like tiny bugs crawling up his sides, and they make his breath catch in his throat.

“Never.” You say, with a grin that scrunches your nose. A smile that would normally make his heart throb, but right now just makes him wish he were a lesser man so he could throttle you.

“Fuckin’-“

You chuckle.

You evil little cunt.

Resistance lasts a few more seconds before he bursts.

It’s not a full laugh that leaves him; more of a wheeze that makes you chortle like a wicked witch. His chest heaves as your fingers frantically tickle his sides. Tries to get you off him by shaking his hips, but that only makes the two of you falter and moan, and then chuckle and catch your breaths.

His shoulders shake in a breathless, choking laugh that pitches upward as you continue with your assault (yes, assault—he is not being dramatic), eyes veiled with tears of frustration and mirth. He shrieks when your hands travel under his armpits—the sound makes you giggle in a way that would have him melt. 

“That laugh’s lovely, baby.” You say with a smarmy grin he wishes he could wipe with a kiss, hands unrelenting against his sides. “Sound like a kettle whistling.”

He tries to glower and push you off, but you’re surprisingly strong when you’re focused. Right now, your only goal is to apparently make him hate you—he'd rather be held at gunpoint than being forced to hold in a laugh that makes his stomach hurt.

Simon now looks shockingly harmless, with his cheeks flushed bright red and his voice an octave too high—wouldn't look dangerous if he tried.

“Tea ready, yet?” You add, batting your lashes, because why not rub salt into the already embarrassing wound marring his pride.

It’s that unfathomably stupid joke that finally makes Simon crack. He barks out a laugh that bubbles up his throat, rippling through his stomach so suddenly that you bounce above him. Your own laugh follows soon after, because each time you manage to steal one from him, your heart vibrates with loving triumph.

But still—he is Simon Riley, isn’t he? Member of Task Force 141. Lieutenant in the UK Special Forces, SAS. The Ghost. There is some pride in there, one he'd like to keep intact.

He tries to recollect his breath, sniffling, and his arms shoot out to wrap around your waist. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him.

It’s then that you find yourself in a position of utter disadvantage, on your back with your big brute of a boyfriend holding you down. You’re wide-eyed and still smiling with barely contained giggles, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn't make his heart soar.

Sure, he’s panting, still proper flushed and apple-cheeked, with shivers wrecking his spine and unshed tears in his eyes—but he takes great pride in having won yet another fight (again, not overreacting at all, if you ask him).

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

You fix him with a look. “Simon, no.”

Before you can add more to your complaint, he rams his cock into you until your chest stutters, your lips mouthing around a shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

He fucks you into the mattress, then—once, twice, until the remnants of laughter vanish from your face and you’re trembling in bliss, eyes rolled back under heavy eyelids.

He places a sloppy kiss down to your collarbone.

“Simon, yes.”

[bi-writes]

thinking about being the new addition to tf141. you are an asset given to laswell by the CIA, a timid little thing but your aim is always on target, and you are quiet, tech savvy, and you do as you're told. (18+, dark)

just how lieutenant riley prefers. he dwarfs you. the first time you meet, your eyes nearly come out of your head from how wide they go. he's so large, and you feel so tiny compared to him, and even though he does nothing but a disinterested once over, it is obvious to the rest of the team that you might just be his favorite.

it's most obvious in the subtle touches. when you're getting ready to jump, ghost comes up from behind and tugs on your parachute, nearly topping you over making sure it's secure. when you're getting ready in the back of the humvee, he reaches over and buckles your thigh holster for you when he notices the strap is coming loose. you nearly choke when you feel his big hand between your thighs, and you stare up at him with wide eyes when his pinkie moves up the seam of your zipper when he tugs his hand away.

and then the way he's on your six is unlike anything else. like glue, chest pressed to your back, his gloved hand squeezing your waist as he moves you every which way he pleases because you're so small to him, so easy, and he growls under his breath when he touches the curve of your hips or the fat of your ass.

maybe you might enjoy it if he wasn't so fucking awkward about it. if he didn't stare at you without blinking. if he didn't adjust his cock in his jeans right in front of you. if he didn't grip you by the back of your head, tugging you any way he wanted as if scolding a kitten using the scruff of their neck.

you think the team would notice by now--that they would step in, tell ghost to back off, but they turn a blind eye. they tolerate this behavior, and you don't know if it's because ghost is so good at his job, they don't want to, or that they are so afraid of him, they refuse to say anything.

or maybe they approve. maybe it keeps ghost at bay. maybe it keeps a lion in his den. a spider in its nest. maybe indulging ghost in his fucked form of flirting and socialization is what keeps the foundations of this team right where it needs to be--and you realize, slowly, that maybe that is why you're here.

because ghost likes them soft, and they need to put a muzzle on their dog.

so when you feel him in the dark, slipping a gloved hand under the blanket that keeps you warm at night, he is pleasantly surprised to find you awake. and even more surprised to feel your hand slipping the soft lace of your panties right into his fucking pocket.

"they teach y'that 'n basic training? how ta give y'r knickers to y'r lieutenant, eh?"

"no," you whisper, and when you meet his eyes in the dark, he looks so hungry. he's untamed, no training, he's used to getting what he wants with no resistance. you turn over in bed, and you don't get to see the way he sucks on his teeth when you let your knees fall, revealing the pretty place between your thighs, soft and puffy and wet, just waiting for a good mutt to eat her up. "but i learned other things."

"tha' right?"

"yeah," you say softly, and you turn over onto your stomach, pushing back onto your knees right in front of him. he bends, leaning over until he's pushing his masked face right into the seam of your cunt, and you grip the sheets tight when he inhales deeply, a rumble following as both of his hands grip either side of your ass and spread you open for him. you're drooling, wetting the nylon fabric, and you gasp when you feel the wet, warm muscle of his tongue suck on your folds through the mask. it's lewd, and you're wetting the material so much it sticks to the strong lines of his face, but he continues, tilting his head to the side as he laps at the pretty slick that dampens your thighs.

"what'd y'learn then, swee'eart?"

not how to fuck your lieutenant. but...you did learn to keep them happy.

"h-how to be a good girl."

and you think you feel him smile.

[soapcloth]

Corporate office worker!Ghost. The big guy huddled over the computer in the cubicle next to you muttering to himself, fingers too big to reasonably use the allotted keyboard, always in and out of HR because every time he opens his mouth at the water cooler he’s spouting a new morbid joke, but his work speed is unmatched and he’s incredibly competent so they can’t get rid of him— you’re almost sure he’s losing his mind and every lunch he’s staring at you across the break room through hollow, tired eyes like you’re the thing he really wants to eat.

[simonbrain]

simon being delusional and pretending he's in a relationship with you because he has no game and can't work up the courage to approach you. maybe you're someone average and unimportant—like the waitress at the pub he frequents—but you've caught his attention, and he can't stop thinking about you.

he hasn't really interacted with you because he's always sitting at the bar with the rest of the boys, but you're sweet and polite, and he can't help the flurry of daydreams that rush through his mind.

he thinks about taking you home after your shift and nodding as if he's listening to you ramble about your night, but really he's concentrating on the soft rumble of your voice. he thinks about cleaning your tired face in the bathroom while you're perched up on the sink, a hand cupping your face to keep you upright while he quietly admires your pretty features. he thinks about dragging you into bed and holding you close to him, offering all the warmth you deserve as you curl up against his side.

he's got his head so far up his arse that when you actually approach this intimidating man who's been boring holes into your head to ask if he's alright, he kind of just short-circuits because you're actually speaking to him? there's no way his perfect girl is right here in front of him. he must be dreaming.

he doesn't realise he's just staring until you clear your throat and nervously say if he should ever need your help, to just ask. and then you're speed-walking off, praying he doesn't take you up on your offer. meanwhile, he's mentally playing russian roulette with a fully loaded gun because how did he fuck that up?

[lologoinsolo]

A continuation of this post! Tw: the word Daddy is mentioned but not in a sexual way!

Cats and Their Men Masterlist, Part 3

A week passed since that guy came in. You hope that the kitten's okay, the guy seems much better than you thought him to be. You did wonder if that was blood on the bills he gave when your manager had counted the register for the night. It looked a lil too red for your taste. But everyone has their secrets and you’re not about to ask that tank of a man if he killed someone or just happened to prick his finger. Still though you hope Bailey is faring much better with him than in the could and… you hope he comes back.

Sunday’s the worst but you managed to persuade your coworker to take over your register. Truck had just came in with so many things for the store and your managers are scrambling to get it all on the sales floor.

Humming along to the song from your earphones. The perks about stocking is that you hardly get bothered by your coworkers. No one likes to restock the numerous bedding and litter and pet clothing so you jumped at the chance to do it. Gives you some peace and quiet save for when the customers will tap at your shoulder. You’ll plaster a smile and use your “customer voice” to point them to where they need a certain item and then get back to stocking. You really should find a way to just work with animals. Maybe you can talk to your manager to see if you can try grooming instead of—

“Girl!”

You jerk and nearly ruin the stack of dog cans you had just put up when someone grabs your arm. “Jesus, Jess,” glaring at your manager when you give her a scathing glare. Coincidentally this one’s the grooming manager. “What’s the matter?” Normally she wouldn’t be out of the grooming salon but the stores been short staffed and cutting corners. She’s been running around having to manage the store floor and hers.

“What’s the matter,” she scoffs, “the matter is your boyfriend is asking for you.” Boyfriend? “He’s a real asshole, ya know. We paged you twice over the intercom. Did you not— are you wearing headphones?” You wince when her voice gets screechy. You pull on your earphones and sigh, it’s an unspoken rule to not wear earphones but that literally never stops her groomers from wearing them.

“Jess, I don’t have a boyfriend.” Rolling your eyes as you give her a once over. Her hands land on her hips and you inwardly sigh. “What does he even look like? Did he say my name?” A little hopeful and also very worried because why is there a man claiming to be your boyfriend and why did your manager come get you for this? “I’m sure he’s one of the customers that’s been bitching lately. The fish tanks aren’t on sale anymore maybe he—“

“He’s not here for fish.” Cutting you off, “he asked for you. I thought he was your boyfriend cause he knew you were working right now.” The alarms start going off in your head. “Look, just go see what he wants.”

“Jess, I don’t know who this man is. Why didn’t you tell him I was like— I don’t know, not working?!”

“Because he’s refusing to fucking leave and he looks like he’s apart of the goddamn mafia!” She yells and you blink at her. Your anger boils to a simmer when she mentions what he looks like.

“Wait, wait… is he wearing a black mask? The ones people wore during COVID?” She nods and you pinch your nose hard. This motherfucker, “okay… I know him. He found a kitten a week ago. I told him to come find me. I didn’t think he’d remember my name because my name tag is so small.” Sighing loudly and stepping around her. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“Good, he’s given us all a fright and I really don’t need this right now. Bella bit the shit out of Felix and now I’m down a groomer.”

“Okay,” nodding as she tells you her woes. It’s been hard all around cause there’s not many workers but you’ll take a mask wearing customer over a shih tzu that’s known to bite. Fixing your shirt and putting on a smile when the figure that’s haunting the grooming salon takes one look at you and starts walking to you— quickly. “Evening, good to see you again. How can I—“

“She’s not eating any of the shit you told me to buy.” He cuts you off and you wonder if you’re actually just made of paper with how everyone cuts you off. There’s a black scarf he’s wearing and you notice a little bit of movement. This guy seems to favor black considering the matching jacket and pants color scheme.

You pull a face and turn to your side when he steps right in front of you. Jesus, he’s tall. Craning your neck to look up at him. “Sir, you have a weeks worth of three different foods?” Is she refusing to eat all of them? “It’s only been a week. Are you sure she’s—“

“Gave her a different one each day and she ain’t eating.” He tilts his head down, “why?” You swallow a bit when he glares at you. You wonder if whoever pisses him off gets to see this last before they get knocked the fuck out.

“You?” Shriveling up slightly, “wait,” once it runs through what he says it starts to click in your head. “You gave her a different one each day. You’re not supposed to do that.” Now it’s your turn to glare at him, “you’re supposed to ease her out into a new one before letting her try it suddenly.” You gave him the kitten version of chicken, beef, and salmon. You had a feeling that she was probably eating literal garbage and wanted her to try the chicken first. It’s your usual go to for new kittens.

“News to me,” he crosses his heavy arms over his chest. “Should’ve told me that.”

“I did tell you…” you start to trail off when you realize that you in fact did NOT tell him that. You just assumed he would know that. Goddamnit. “Okay,” he cocks an expectant brow, “maybe I forgot to mention but you didn’t ask. I thought you knew.” A measly form of an apology and taht doesn’t seem to settle him

“I told you I need things for the little shit. You made me buy those things,” he takes a step forward, “expensive things and now she’s waking me up all hours of the damn night because she’s hungry.” Your throat must be very dry from how hard you swallow. “What you didn’t tell was how to feed her.” His hands ball and flex.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you realize that maybe you are more in the wrong than your pride wishes to admit. “Look I,” taking a breath, “I’m sorry. It’s on me, I should’ve told you. I would’ve given you one of those first time pamphlets but we ran out.” Feeling like how a bug feels under a boot with how you tremble out an apology. “Was there one that she seemed interested in the most? Some cats like the chicken more while others prefer the salmon.” Maybe you can give him some wet cans to entice his little pet. A small thing like her shouldn’t be without food and you start to feel worse.

“She sniffed more at the salmon.”

“Okay, that’s good.” Perking up and you turn on your heel. “Come on, I’ll buy you some wet cans.” Before he can even protest you cut him off finally. “Look, I feel horrible, it’s the least I can do. Plus I get discounts.” Giving him a wink and he doesn’t give you anything other than a curt nod. You grab the salmon wet cans, the kitten ones, and you pray to the gods that Bailey will eat it so her dad won’t kill you. “Try the wet cans, see if that’ll work. If not then you’ll have to try for a different one. There’s a brand here that sells rabbit and turkey, a bit expensive.” You laugh shortly, “but cats have sensitive stomachs. They don’t mean to be picky.”

“Might not be picky but she sure as hell like to run my money.”

You huff a small laugh at his expense, “you should see the bills I’ve seen that get racked up here.” You skip the line to head to your register. Ringing it up and usually you’re not supposed to use your own discount for others but you’re not willing to risk mafia guy’s anger. Bagging it and passing it to him for him but he doesn’t grab it right away “Is there… is there something else you need?” You ask and he takes the bag from you finally.

He mulls over your words for a second and then says. “Need a collar,” he tilts his head to the side and out pokes Bailey’s itty bitty head from his scarf. You nearly scream when you see her but manage to bite your tongue on time. “Here,” he pulls her out and she lets out a disgruntled meow. He plops her down in your waiting arms. “Scratched up my neck.” He grumbles under his breath when he fixes his scarf back up. The kitten simply purrs in your arms when you coo and run from her nose to head. A glutton for love and you readily give it to her. “Find something for her.” He waves offhandedly once his scarf looks decent around his neck once more.

“Do have a specific—“ you trail off again when his eyes squint down at you. Right… he doesn’t really care. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” He grunts an acknowledgment and you walk off with the cutest little baby. She keeps pulling at your chest, seems eager to get to your shoulders and you wonder if she does that to her dad all the time. “Hmmmm,” looking from all the collars that the store sells. “You’re too tiny,” you hold her up like the monkey did the lion cub, a little sad that there’s not much that’ll fit her. “But,” noticing a small blue collar that shines slightly, “this could fit. It’ll give you enough room to grow into as well.” It’s a cat collar designed to unclasp if it gets snagged hard onto something. And knowing this curios kitten, she’ll need it.

Bailey doesn’t seem to mind when you let her sniff at it till the collar comes on and then she’s desperate to figure out what’s around her neck. Her back legs kicking at the edge of the collar and you cup her so she won’t tug it off. “Your daddy wants you wearing that so you gotta get used to it.” He could train her to walk on a harness later but that does take a good amount of training and

“Daddy, huh?”

You jolt from your thoughts and squeeze a little too tight around Bailey. She lets out a little hiss and you blubber an apology. “I didn’t— that’s not what I—“ the ‘daddy’ in question seems far too amused with how you stutter. “I uh… I thought you were at the front?” Coughing to push past your embarrassment. Petting Bailey as an apology on her sides and under her chin. She doesn’t forgive easily as she gives you a well deserved nips. You murmur a sorry to her and she squints up at you.

“Thought you got lost.” He comes around and pulls his kitten from your hands, he took a little longer to get her out but maybe you’re thinking too hard. You were taking a bit down the aisle but you wanted her to have a nice collar that fit her well. The heat from his fingers though makes your own cheeks warm slightly. When did he get that close and also why didn’t you hear him walking up? “Looks good,” he holds Bailey up and moves her around like she’s a little jewel. “Blue suits her.” He pushes her back inside his scarf and you can faintly hear her little purrs. A slight movement of the fabric before she settles right up against his neck.

Clearing your throat slightly, some strands of hair falls a bit forward but you’re still a bit squirmy to fix it. “I knew she would look good in blue. It matches her, I can buy it for you as well. I don’t min—“ your eyes widen when he moves his hand to tuck those loose strands back behind your ear. You stare up wide at him and he stares down at you. Nothing in his eyes give away an ounce of an emotion despite how you look. To his credit, he may have not meant to do that with how quickly he puts his hand down. “Uh… I— sir?” You manage to squeak out and his mask twitches slightly.

He flexes his hand that touched you and leaves you standing there bewildered, confused and your cheeks burning up so much that you might consider it to be a fever. You don’t follow him when he took off without giving an answer but you do touch your ear. The phantom feeling of his fingers makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. “What the fuck?” You murmur under your breath.

…

The next day you manage to get to work with little sleep from how you tossed and turned. You sorta waited more around your register to see if the man would come back but to your disappointment… he doesn’t. You take it in stride and continue about your day. Just as you’re about to clock out a man with a charming smile and model worthy appearance comes in holding a kitten in his hands and says, “I was told by my friend to ask you for help with cats. Can you help me, love?”

[littlescorp1o]

he’s so awkward i love him

[just-some-user-hunny]

Knight!Simon Riley helping you feed his horse because you're timid of such a large beast, but he's such a tender thing. Nuzzling his velvet mouth into your palm to lick up the oats your knight nestled in your cupped hand, guiding you closer with gruff reassurance and patience. It's alright. He won't hurt you. I'm right here princess, nothing will happen. See? He likes you.

Smiling with glee as the horses whiskers tickle your skin as he eats, missing your knight's heavy stare of dark irises swallowing up the colour of his eyes. Hoping maybe you'll remember this exact scenario that played out when you were both wide eyed children, his own hand guiding yours just like before. When he was just a gentle stableboy covered in bruises and cuts, and you were a teary eyed little thing. Always so curious but frightened of the horses, yet always keening to him. He had smelt of sun and hay and hard labour, older than you by a few years, tender and guiding. Maybe you'll remember next time.

[clourey]

“you’re ignoring me,” sae mutters, his expression unreadable.

you, in contrast, are evidently very surprised as your eyes widen and your lips part slightly. you turn to meet his gaze, and your confusion is acknowledged with a scoff.

“you didn’t say ‘i love you’ to me this morning, and you haven’t said it all day.”

his countenance doesn’t falter when he speaks, but there is a faint of hurt laced in his voice.

“baby—” you shift your body towards him, gently cupping his cheeks, “i’m so, so sorry, i must’ve…”

you hesitate to continue, inwardly berating yourself.

your boyfriend has admitted to you before, in a rare moment of vulnerability, how much every ‘i love you’ means to him. how — when he’s distanced himself from the affection of everyone else he knows — much weight an ‘i love you’ holds.

so what reason were you to give to him? that you simply forgot?

“you must’ve forgotten?”

sae finishes your sentence. it’s better than hearing you say it.

he knows you didn’t mean to hurt him, but what was he to think when you’d forgotten the gesture of love that he thought was firmly rooted in your daily routine? what was he to think when you’d so easily forgotten something that he thought was natural?

“and you still haven’t said it.”

shit, is your only reaction as sae extracts your hands from his face. he shrugs, promptly leaving you desolate in the living room.

was he overreacting? maybe, he thinks, but today was the first time he felt the same as he did before had he met you.

[karoochui]

I am admittedly not the most massive fan of human DCA cuz i think some characters aren't human for good reason BUT. i had ideas. So

[shouyuus]

here's a thought:

bartender!vi x flower shop!reader

where bartender!vi is always closing shop when you're setting up right across the street from the last drop and she always sees you, pushing open your old fashioned french windows, an apron gathered around your waist as you set up the outdoor arrangements.

one of these days, she thinks she'll go over to ask for a flower (or your number), or just to buy you a drink. one of these days, she's gonna gather up the courage to do it. but today... she thinks she'll just content herself with watching (yet again), with wondering what your name might be, dreaming about if you'd smell like flowers, if your smile would look just as beautiful.

she doesn't know that every evening, when you're closing shop and the last drop is turning on it's lights and she's busy helping vander carry in the stock for the night, you're watching her through those vast french windows, wondering if her laughter is just as intoxicating as a shot of whiskey, if her eyes might be bourbon-bright beneath the haze of a busy bar.

one of these days, you think, you'll go over there and... say hi. ask for her to make you her favorite drink (or just her number). one of these days. but --

not today.

[mfxoxo]

He's so nerdy and awkward, gOd it makes him even hotter

[jjenthusee]

reader: so u seeing anyone? *seductive eyes*

jason: like romantically or hallucinations?