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pedroscowgirl · 4 months ago

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A Younger Revelation

Hugh jackman x female!reader

Part 2

Warnings: smut! Minors, DNI!!

Age gap (reader is their (mid) 20s), p in v, creampie (wrap it up), choking, hugh is posessive (?) , daddy issues (i can't help it) and squirting

lmk if i missed some!

Words: 4.5k

A/N: I saw a few ppl say that hugh (and his son) are into older women and i just had to write something about it cuz i want to be his controversial younger gf i hope you like it!

You and Hugh had been friends for over three years, ever since you starred in a movie together. The on-screen chemistry was profound, and off-screen, it quickly turned into a deep, genuine friendship. But as time passed, you began to notice a shift in your feelings. It wasn't just admiration for his talent or his kind-hearted nature, it was something far more intense. You had always been drawn to older men, a fascination born from perhaps, some unresolved issues with your father. It was a part of yourself you had come to understand, but with Hugh, it became an irresistible pull.

The age difference was glaring. Hugh was closer to your parents' age, even older than your dad. The thought of being attracted to him felt wrong, almost taboo, like a secret you shouldn't entertain. Yet, the more you were around him, the more you craved his presence, his voice, the comforting maturity he exuded. The way he moved, the timbre of his laughter, and the warmth in his eyes, it all made you want him even more. It didn't help that you had come across interviews and internet whispers, and even a hint from his ex-wife, all pointing to his preference for older women. It stung, knowing that you probably weren't his type, but it didn't stop the fantasies from consuming you.

One evening, the two of you sat on the terrace of his apartment, sipping wine under the silver glow of the moon. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but the world felt confined to the small space you shared. It was a beautiful, quiet night, and the air was thick with unspoken words. You had always enjoyed these moments with Hugh, comfortable, intimate, and filled with a sense of ease that belied the complexity of your feelings. But tonight, the tension felt different, more visible. The usual comfort was tinged with a sharp undercurrent of desire.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to break the silence. "You know," you began, your voice soft and deliberate, "we have something in common." Hugh glanced at you, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "We're both attracted to older people."

He paused, his glass halfway to his lips, caught off guard. You saw the confusion in his eyes as he processed your words. "You're attracted to older women," you continued, watching as his expression shifted. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. The tension in the air thickened, and you felt a heady rush of adrenaline. "And I'm attracted to older men."

Hugh choked on his wine, coughing slightly as he set his glass down. The look of surprise on his face was priceless, but you pressed on, feeling bolder with every word. "Have you ever tried a younger woman?" you asked, your voice dropping to a sultry, almost teasing tone. You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Don't you ever crave it? The energy, the freshness... the excitement?"

He looked at you, a mix of shock and intrigue in his eyes. There was a visible shift in the atmosphere, the air charged with a new kind of tension. Hugh's gaze darkened, his eyes roaming over your face, then down your body, as if seeing you in a new light. He swallowed again, visibly trying to maintain his composure. "Sweetheart," he began, his voice low and rough, "I'm too old for you."

You tilted your head, a sly smile playing on your lips. "But you know what it's like to be into that," you said, leaning in so close that your lips nearly brushed his. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. "Maybe you could try something different, something... younger."

Before you could second-guess yourself, Hugh's hands were on you, pulling you onto his lap with a smooth, assertive motion. The sudden intimacy made your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the firmness of his chest beneath your hands. His grip on your hips was possessive, his fingers digging in just enough to send a thrill through you. The reality of the situation hit you—this was happening.

Hugh looked up at you, his eyes intense and filled with a mix of desire and conflict. "I mean," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, "we can try something, and I'll get back to you on that." His words were laced with a sensual promise, an unspoken agreement that sent a rush of heat through your veins.

You felt the weight of the moment, the gravity of what you were about to do. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. You could feel the slight tremor in his hands, a testament to the struggle between his self-control and the desire simmering beneath the surface.

Leaning in, you whispered against his lips, "Let's see where this goes." The tension was unbearable, the air thick with anticipation. And then, finally, his lips met yours. The kiss was slow and exploratory at first, a tentative test of boundaries. But it quickly deepened, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only the sensation of his lips, the taste of wine, and the electric connection that sparked between you.

In that moment, everything else faded away. The doubts, the fears, the societal norms—they all melted into the background. All that mattered was the way he made you feel, the way your body responded to his touch, and the intoxicating promise of what was to come.

As you broke the kiss, a delicious tension lingered in the air, thick with the promise of more. Sitting on Hugh's lap, you felt the heat of his body radiate through his clothes and into your skin. His hands, strong and sure, moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing gently. The intimate touch made your breath hitch, and your eyes locked with his, the burning gaze between you sparking an electric connection.

"I'll admit, you're a good kisser," he whispered, his voice low and dripping with that irresistible Australian accent. The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but bite your lip, savouring the compliment. "You're not so bad yourself," you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips. He chuckled softly, his eyes briefly dropping to your chest, where the rise and fall of your breath betrayed your growing anticipation.

Hugh's hand slowly slid from your ass up to your shoulder, the touch sending a trail of warmth in its wake. With a deliberate slowness, he hooked a finger under the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it down with a teasing grin. The fabric slipped off your shoulder, revealing more of your skin, and you felt the cool night air against your bare breast, sending a jolt of awareness through you. You weren't wearing a bra, and the sudden exposure made you feel both vulnerable and excited.

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of awe crossing his face as he took in the sight of you. "Beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself, before he leaned in closer. His other hand joined in, deftly removing your top entirely. As the fabric fell away, leaving you bare from the waist up, you felt a delicious thrill of exposure, the night air cool against your skin. Hugh's gaze was hot and heavy, his admiration evident as he took in the sight of your nakedness. You could see the desire in his eyes, mirrored by the lust in your own.

Feeling his intensity, you felt a flush spread across your cheeks, your breathing growing shallow. There was something incredibly erotic about the way he looked at you, fully clothed in his short-sleeved shirt that highlighted his toned arms and muscular biceps. The contrast made you feel even more exposed, more vulnerable, and yet, it was thrilling. Before you could say anything, he leaned in, his lips capturing your nipple. The sensation sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, making you gasp.

Your hands instinctively reached for his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his mouth worked its magic. He alternated between soft licks and gentle bites, each touch sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you. Your hips began to move on their own, grinding against him as you sought more friction, more connection. You could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against you through the fabric of his pants, and the knowledge of his desire only heightened your own.

As his mouth continued its sweet torment on your sensitive skin, your body responded eagerly. Every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, sent sparks of pleasure straight to your core. You arched into him, wanting more, needing more. The feel of his warm, wet mouth on your nipple was intoxicating, and you couldn't help the soft moans that escaped your lips.

Hugh's free hand roamed up and down your back, caressing and holding you close as if grounding himself in the reality of this moment. The feeling of his hands on you, the weight of his body beneath you, and the heat of his mouth all combined to create an intoxicating mix of sensations. You felt powerful and utterly desired, lost in the pleasure of the moment and the knowledge that this man, who had seemed untouchable, was now very much within your grasp.

As you continued to grind against him, the friction and heat built up between you, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Hugh's breathing grew ragged, his grip on you tightening as he responded to your movements. His mouth left your nipple, trailing kisses up to your neck, where he nibbled softly, drawing another gasp from you.

You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending alight with desire. The air was thick with the scent of wine and the heady musk of arousal, and you knew there was no turning back. The night had taken a turn into the forbidden, and you were more than willing to explore this uncharted territory with him.

As Hugh's lips lavished warm kisses on your breast, each touch sending electric jolts through your body, you felt an irresistible urge to feel more of him, to uncover the mystery beneath his shirt. Your fingers moved with a mind of their own, sliding up his torso and curling into the fabric, giving a gentle tug. It was a subtle yet unmistakable sign for him to undress. He paused, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, a playful grin spreading across his face. His hands moved to the hem of his shirt, peeling it off with an effortless grace that left you breathless.

As the shirt fell away, revealing the sculpted lines of his chest and the ripple of muscles beneath his skin, your eyes widened in astonishment. You couldn't help but let out a soft, appreciative gasp. "You have an amazing build for your age," you murmured, your voice tinged with genuine admiration and a hint of awe.

Hugh's smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "You know what else is great for my age? My stamina," he replied, his tone dripping with confidence and a hint of mischief. The promise in his words sent a delicious shiver down your spine. You bit your lip, the anticipation making your pulse race. "Let's test that out," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper but full of bold intent.

Without a moment's hesitation, Hugh's hands found your waist. With an effortless strength that took your breath away, he lifted you and set you down on the cold surface of the terrace table. The sudden contrast of the cool marble against your warm skin made you jolt, a soft gasp escaping your lips. It was a shock that only heightened the pleasure coursing through you.

His hands worked at the buttons of your pants, sliding them down your legs and casting them aside. You felt exposed, vulnerable, yet undeniably excited. The night air kissed your skin, adding to the thrill of the moment. Hugh's eyes roamed over you with a hunger that made your heart pound. As his fingers trailed down your thighs and found their way to your wetness, a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Aren't you a little embarrassed?" he teased, his voice a low, seductive purr. "To be this wet for a man older than your own father?" His words were provocative, laced with a taboo allure that made your cheeks flush. You knew there was a truth in what he said, but the forbidden nature of it only heightened your desire. Hugh was unlike any man you'd ever known—there was a raw, magnetic allure about him that drew you in, making you forget about the world beyond this terrace.

He was a god in human form, exuding a potent mix of masculinity and confidence. His touch was confident and assured, his fingers exploring you with an intimate knowledge that made your body sing. The cool night air combined with the warmth of his hands created a heady contrast that made you moan softly. Hugh's thumb found your clit, and he began to circle it with a tantalizing slowness, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "You're so responsive," he murmured, the huskiness of his voice sending a thrill down your spine. Then, with deliberate slowness, he pushed a finger inside you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, your body arching towards him, craving more of his touch. The intensity of your desire was palpable, a living, breathing thing that consumed you.

"Already?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm not even inside you yet." You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully, which only made him chuckle. There was a warmth in his laughter, a sound that wrapped around you and heightened the anticipation building between you. "Go ahead then, go inside me," you dared him, but the words came out more like a plea, your voice breathy with need.

Hugh's expression shifted, his eyes darkening with lust. "My god, you're such a slut for me," he said, his voice thick with desire. The crude declaration sent a jolt of excitement through you, making your heart race. "Fuck yes, Hugh, I am," you confessed, the honesty in your voice making your cheeks burn. It was liberating, admitting just how badly you wanted him, and his smirk told you he relished every word.

"Fine, I'll give you what you want," he murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his face. With deliberate slowness, he unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor. The sight of him, hard and ready, made you swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry with anticipation. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes tracing every inch of him, the primal hunger in your gaze unmistakable.

Then, as if breaking the spell, Hugh looked up, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Oh, I don't have a condom with me," he suddenly said, a hint of concern in his voice. You barely hesitated, the words tumbling out before you could think. "It's okay, I'm on the pill." The moment hung in the air, the intimacy of the situation crystal clear. His eyes darkened further, a predatory gleam shining in them as he absorbed your words.

"If you say so, babygirl," he murmured, his voice low. He positioned himself at your entrance, and with a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered you. The sudden fullness made you gasp, your hands gripping the edges of the table for support as your back arched involuntarily. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that made your mind go blank.

Hugh groaned, his head tilting back as he savoured the feeling. "Gosh, you feel so delicious around me," he breathed out, his voice laced with raw desire. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he began to move, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Better than anything you've had before?" you managed to ask, your voice shaky with the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. It was a question born of curiosity and a bit of pride, wanting to know if he felt the same electric connection that you did. His response was a low, guttural moan, his eyes locking onto yours with a fiery intensity.

"Much better," he rasped, his voice dripping with sincerity. His movements became more urgent, more insistent, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The rhythm he set was intoxicating, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. You could feel the table beneath you shaking with the force of his movements, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat building inside you.

Hugh's hand slid up your body, fingers tracing the curve of your spine, sending shivers through you. His touch was both gentle and possessive, a reminder of the power he held over you in this moment. The pleasure built to a crescendo, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like you might explode. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was the delicious friction and the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he could scarcely believe the intensity of the moment. The praise sent a thrill through you, pushing you even closer to the edge. You could feel him pulse inside you, every inch of him fitting perfectly, as if he was made for you.

As the intensity of the moment reached its peak, Hugh's thrusts grew even more purposeful, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You felt a different kind of pressure building within you, a sensation that was new, raw, and overwhelming. It was as if your body was responding to him in ways it never had before, every nerve electrified by his touch.

Sensing the shift, Hugh slowed his pace slightly, maintaining a deep, steady rhythm that drove you wild. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I can feel it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "You're so close. Let go for me. I want to feel you come apart."

The deep timbre of his voice and the promise in his words sent you spiraling. The pressure inside you continued to mount, reaching an almost unbearable level. You gasped, clutching the edge of the table as if it were a lifeline, your body shaking with the effort to hold back. But Hugh was relentless, his thrusts hitting just the right spot, coaxing you closer to the edge.

He placed a firm hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down gently. "Just let go, sweetheart," he urged, his voice soft yet commanding. "I want you to let it all out. Don't hold back." His words were like a key, unlocking something deep within you. The sensation became too much to contain, a dam about to burst.

With a strangled cry, you felt the floodgates open. A powerful wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing as you squirted, a hot rush of release that left you trembling. The sensation was so intense, so utterly consuming, that you could hardly breathe. Your vision blurred, and your mind blanked out everything but the exquisite feeling coursing through you. Hugh's eyes never left yours, a satisfied, almost possessive smile playing on his lips. "That's it, baby," he coaxed, his voice dripping with pride and satisfaction. "Let it all out. You're amazing."

As the intense waves of your orgasm began to subside, Hugh didn't slow down. Instead, he kept the pressure steady, his thrusts deep and precise, as if he was determined to draw every last ounce of pleasure from you. Just when you thought you couldn't handle any more, he reached up and wrapped a hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to send another thrill of excitement coursing through your body. The sensation of his strong hand on your neck, combined with the powerful thrusts inside you, was intoxicating.

He leaned in close, his eyes locking onto yours with a dark, possessive intensity. "I'm gonna cum in you sweet girl" he growled, his voice low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. The weight of his words hung in the air, adding a dangerous edge to the moment. "And you can never spill it, okay? Or I won't fuck you ever again." There was an undeniable authority in his voice, a challenge that made your heart race even faster.

The combination of his hand around your throat and the raw dominance in his voice sent you spiraling into another wave of pleasure. You nodded, breathless, barely able to form words. "Okay," you managed to gasp, your voice strained with the pressure on your neck and the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

"Good girl," he murmured, a satisfied smirk on his lips. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to leave you breathless. You felt him pulse inside you, his release hot and thick, filling you completely. The sensation pushed you over the edge once more, your body arching towards him as you came again, the intensity almost too much to bear.

Hugh groaned, the sound deep and primal, as he found his release. His hand around your throat loosened, his fingers caressing your skin in a tender contrast to the roughness of his thrusts. The mixture of gentle and rough was intoxicating, leaving you utterly spent and completely satisfied.

"No young man has ever made me feel this way," you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with awe. The admission felt both liberating and surprising, as if you'd just discovered a new facet of yourself.

Hugh's smile widened, his eyes darkening with a mix of pride and desire. "That's because no young man knows how to treat a woman like you," he murmured, his fingers gently stroking your cheek. "You've got so much passion inside you, and I'm just the man to bring it out."

You looked up at him, a playful smile curling your lips. "So, have I changed your mind? Are you not into older women anymore?" you teased, your voice light and flirtatious. Hugh paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. The question seemed to catch him off guard, but his response was swift and sincere.

"Babygirl," he began, a slow smile spreading across his face, "I can only think about your pussy right now." His blunt honesty made your heart flutter, a delicious thrill coursing through you at his words. It was as if nothing else existed for him in that moment but you, and the intensity of his focus made you feel desired in a way you hadn't experienced before.

Still, amidst the raw passion, there was a tenderness in his gaze that reassured you. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his large hands. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern. It was a simple question, but it spoke volumes about the kind of man he was, capable of both dominance and deep care. You nodded, feeling a warm glow spread through your chest.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet, loving kiss. It was a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic passion from moments before, and it left you breathless in an entirely different way. The kiss was tender, lingering, as if he was savouring the moment. When he pulled back, his eyes were warm, a soft smile on his lips.

With gentle hands, Hugh reached down to pull your panties back on, his touch careful and deliberate. He made sure nothing spilled out, his fingers grazing your sensitive skin, sending a shiver through you. As he adjusted the fabric, he leaned down and pressed a light, teasing kiss over your clit through the thin material. The unexpected gesture made you gasp, your body jolting with a mix of surprise and lingering desire.

Your legs felt weak, trembling slightly from the intensity of everything that had just transpired. Hugh chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your stomach flip. "Next time, we'll just do it in bed," he said with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You couldn't help but laugh, the tension breaking into a shared moment of light-heartedness. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the playful banter, felt like a perfect culmination of the intense connection you shared.

Together, you went back inside while Hugh was holding you bridal style. The cool air giving way to the warmth of the house. The bathroom was steamy as Hugh turned on the shower, the sound of running water filling the space. Without missing a beat, he scooped you back up into his strong arms, cradling you against his chest. His strength was evident as he carried you with ease, his touch reassuring and protective. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath your fingertips.

As the warm water cascaded over you both, it felt like a cleansing, a washing away of everything but the present moment. Hugh held you close, his hands roaming your wet skin with a mix of possessiveness and reverence. The water created a curtain around you, isolating you in a cocoon of heat and steam.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pressed you against the shower wall, the cool tiles a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, the water pouring over you both adding to the intensity. It was a hot make out session, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate fervour that left you breathless. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as the kiss deepened, turning into something more primal and urgent.

The way he kissed you, hungry, demanding, yet tender—was intoxicating. You felt enveloped by him, his presence overpowering in the best possible way. Every touch, every kiss, was a promise of more to come, a hint at the depths of his desire for you. The water flowed over you, mingling with your sweat, as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment.

As you finally pulled away, gasping for breath, you rested your forehead against his, both of you panting from the intensity of the kiss. Hugh's eyes were dark with desire, a satisfied smirk on his lips. You knew that this was just the beginning, that the connection you shared was far from over. The shower may have been meant to cleanse, but instead, it became another chapter in your shared passion, a testament to the chemistry that crackled between you like an unquenchable fire.

dm me if u want to be in my taglist!!

Taglist:

@melaninjoys @ermlady @haytchee @elloredef

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman smut #marvel #marvel smut #wolverine #wolverine and deadpool #wolverine smut #ryan reynolds

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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months ago

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Daddy kink Wolverine x reader… just throwing that out there

Logan Howlett x Gambit variant male reader

Ficlet

Reader is a Gambit variant, cuz I love Gambit… I have no idea how to write accents though, so you’ll just have to imagine it. This isn’t as long as my other ficlets, but I just needed to get it out my system. There is also no outright written smut, but you guys will live.

Deadpool and wolverine spoilers ahead

Two Gambits was an experience, any member of your small resistance in the void could back said claim. Most of the time none of them could pick up on what you and Remy were talking about, since you both slid into your mother tongue on most occasions. Unlike Remy, you had had a life before being thrown into the Void. Apparently, you were only meant to be the horseman of death for a while before returning to the Gambit, but instead you had become one with this new part of yourself, meaning you needed to be gotten rid of.

Your life sense, as an avatar of death, was what let Laura find Wade and Logan so easily, and how you guys could avoid Nova and her folks as well. Seeing Logans disregard for Remy and the rest had just made you laugh, speaking in the same accented voice as Remy, making Wade make even more comments about dialect coaches and tongue twisting. The only tongue twisting you were gonna do, would have to be a bit more intimate though, your sentence ended with a short wink shot Logans way.

Maybe it was nostalgia that had you picking on Logan the night before your big surprise attack on Nova. The original Logan from your universe had never been an X-men either, not for long at least, but he had always been in your circles. It had led to multiple rolls in the hay together, so to speak, but in the end, he had even sided with the X-men to take you and the other horsemen down. Thinking back, you could never figure out if he was sad to see you go, but part of you were happy to see him finally looking comfortable by the x-men’s side.

You were both pleasantly buzzed when you crawled into his lap, throwing your long coat and headgear to the ground as you got comfortable. His hands were so rough and calloused on your hips, Logans voice deep and growly as you smirked down at him. Who would have thought that the wolverine would be into being called daddy. The moment the word left your lips, just to be a tease about it, his pupils seemed to blow wide open and before you knew it, you found yourself on your back.

Grumbles of Cajun French left you as Logan ripped through your pants with that inhumane strength of his, looking half feral with that sneer on his lips. The ferocity lessened when that title left your lips again, hands settled on his sideburns as you murmured out accented begs, soft “daddy, daddy, daddy” passing your lips.

With how wild Logan had been acting in the beginning, you honestly thought hed fuck you like he hated you, like you were just stress relief. But to your shock, it became something more akin to lovemaking. Sure, he gripped your hips hard enough to leave dark bruises, and covered your neck and shoulders in enough hickeys to make even Remy blush, but he was surprisingly soft.

And every time that word left your lips, Logan just seemed to melt into it more and more, his usual growling and snarling more akin to a deep rumbled purr against your chin as he moved you as he pleased. It was so intimate, you almost teared up, and that soft almost vulnerable look on Logans face made you think maybe he felt that way too. He kissed like you were something special and precious instead of just another partner to warm his bed, something you had so rarely felt before.

Slumped together and spent made you wonder if this meant anything at all. Or were you two just fellow broken souls who’d lost everything and everybody, and who could only find comfort in another just as shattered person. Feeling Logans arms around you made you at least want to survive and see, who knew, maybe there was space for another Gambit wherever Logan was gonna go after this.

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thatweirdfandom · 5 months ago

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body swap zosan

zoro:

he notices that he has no balance what so ever, he’s used to a heavier body built on muscle

his vision feels normal though, sanji has had his bangs cover one of his eyes forever so it’s not unlike when he lost his own eye

he can distinctly feel too much, he feels how the dust and dirt sticks to him in a way he can’t shake, faint crawling of ghost bugs on his body and he takes more showers then he likes to admit

when he wakes up if he doesn’t eat right away he gets sick- a repercussion to sanji s starvation

strangely when he picks up a sword when sanji isn’t looking it feels familiar- not like his intense muscle memory but that sanji knows how to use a sword above any class beginner

he cant not keep still, if he stays still too long he can feel the phantom aches in his body, the overstimulation of dirt

he ends up overextending by accident a lot, it’s funny at first because how flexible he is- but he’s not used to having to control the small joints so not to hurt himself (que him dislocating something because no, your body can’t just stretch like that unless you do it properly)

he notices he has a small appetite but if he doesn’t eat when needed he will get sick very quickly (ah that’s why sanji always makes excuses to have snacks for the ladies and everyone)

he gets trapped once, it’s nothing unlike he’s used to. but the walls, the tight space, this body knows this feeling and it just gives out on him

when he gets ready for bed he is always baffled why sanji sleeps with his shoes on. little did he know how nasty and brutal sanjis feet ended up (ballet feet)

why can’t he turn off his observation haki?

constant need to feel physical touch but also being repulsed by it when it happens

turns out the cook does in fact just have constant nose bleeds and if he gets too emotional or riled up it just happens. this is a awkward moment when some lady tells the crew her husband just dies and zoros nose starts bleeding

sanji:

he cant see his toes (tiddies too big)

his spacial awareness is terrible he keeps bumping into things

he has intense head splitting migranes that only a nap could help (hmmm thriller bark…) and maybe a drink

a need to work out, to sweat out toxins from his body

accidentally breaks too many things since it’s just sheer force of strength

he gets cramps way too much and can barely do a simple stretch

in battle he can’t help but notice the slight increase in heartbeat- he thinks originally it’s just cuz of adrenaline but he knows that feeling. and this one is fear, every battle no matter how strong he is in this body feels fear every moment- not for himself but those around him

he has to check on everyone no matter what- it’s weird because he does that too but this is more of a subtle pull to do it, a slow meditation of going through each member to make sure they are ok

always being touched by luffy and others to be buddy buddy, he doesn’t have much to cover him and the warmth is unlike something he’s felt in so long (usually one to cover up because he can just feel too much)

he is still a great chef but only in food prep. his hands are too clumsy for much else, and his body is bigger when trying to move in the kitchen

on top of cramps, he keeps pulling muscles (seriously does he never stretch this body?)

he also gets tired quicker- endurance isn’t as lasting when this body focuses on attacks that count on brute force

he cant feel his torso, turns out mihawk really made sure zoro remember by cutting off the nerves

BOTH:

man why does my heart pick up when i see my own body?

#zosan #zosan prompts #zosan headcanons

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 24 days ago

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Floyd Leech: Cinderella Step

GOOD GOD, FLOYD 😭 Put your grippers AWAY, I don’t wanna see those… (flashbacks to the horror of Dorm Uniform Jade groovy)

P.S. You should listen to Cinderella Step by Daoko :)) I enjoy it a lot, and it’s also the song that I named this ficlet after. I feel like that first full line (“Though you are the worst, I can’t help but love you”) is very evocative of the NRC boys 😂

Rise and Shine!

It was easy to tell which side of the room was Floyd's. It always looked like a hurricane had run through, scattering clothes all over every avaliable surface. Snack crumbs are sprinkled like a generous garnish on his desk and shelf. His belongings—interesting odds and ends he had collected over the weeks—were similarly strewn haphazardly, wherever there was free space to be occupied.

There was only one thing that the storm seemed to have missed.

His shoes.

A glossy black--patent leather. Large yet sleek, tapering into pointed toes. It was the same pair he wore every day with his school uniform, yet there was not so much as a scratch or a speck of dirt on them.

Pristine.

The one thing he takes good care of, you thought. Must be magic.

Other shoes sat in neat rows on a rack. Boots, sneakers, sandals, in shapes and colors you've never even imagined. The variety astounded you.

Floyd bounded about the room collecting his things. He hopped around on one leg, slipping on a sock, then alternated to the other leg. Next he slung his blazer, still slightly wrinkled from having been crumpled and tossed over a chair last night, on over his prim grey-lilac vest. His striped tie was forgotten, left forlorn on his bed as he yoinked the patent leather shoes and slipped them on.

“‘K, I’m ready," Floyd announced cheerily. "Let’s get going, koebi-chan~"

You stared at his messy room. "You're not going to tidy up a little before heading out?"

He blinked. "Hmm? Why would I? Stuff's gonna shift around anyway, so there's no point in doing that."

Floyd strolled out, hands casually tucked in his pockets. You followed after him, falling in time with his footsteps. Today, they were long and languid, like waves lazily combing the beach.

You knew what that meant; good mood, best to not disturb it.

"... Right." You offered a small, reassuring smile. “Hey, I noticed that you have a lot of shoes—and you take such good care of them.”

“Yeah. Cuz we don’t really have’m where I come from. Gotta make the most of my human experience and all.”

"You don't exactly dress in a shirt and pants under the sea either," you pointed out with a shrug.

“Shoes are special.” He said it with surprisingly conviction, an uncharacteristic seriousness set in his eyes. "You kinda need them to do the things humans do every day, least without getting nagged at. Jumping, dancing, strolling down the street."

“All this talk about footwear… You sound like Cinderella.”

“Ehh… Do I give you those vibes?” There was a crackle entangled with his words.

“You’re the kind of guy that would sneak out if Azul told you to stay put.” You paused, then added, “just to prove a point.”

He gave a razor-sharp grin in response. “Touché.”

Floyd glanced down at his feet. His eyes barely lingered there for half a second before they flicked to yours. “Glass slippers sound cool though.”

“Glass slippers? Really? You’re not scared they’d break…? I thought you’d be into more durable shoes. Something easy to move around in.”

“I’d try’m on at least once, as long as it’s not lame lookin’. I’ll try anything at least once. Glass slippers, a puss’s boots, ballet flats from twelve dancing princesses, shoes made by elves…”

“Even cursed shoes?” you asked. “Professor Trein was telling us about them the other day. Put them on, and you’re cursed to dance forever and ever—or at least until you collapse from exhaustion.”

Floyd made a face. “Nah. Dancing’s fun, but not if you do it all the time. I’d get sick of it.”

"There’s more than one way of dancing.”

“Duh. I know that. But it’ll still get pretty boring after a while.”

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head, your feet coming to a stop. “Dancing’s a lot like having a conversation, except your mouth doesn’t ever need to move. You just let your body do the talking.”

Your legs criss-crossed in a quick jig. "This is being excited." Standing on your toes, you carefully elevated yourself. "This is whispering." Putting all your weight into your feet, you stomped. "And this is shouting!"

Floyd watched your demonstration in silence. Gold, right. Olive, left. Together, mysterious and mirthful.

“Sounds fun,” he piped up at last. “I want in on this."

Before you had the chance to respond, Floyd's had had already latched onto yours. The other wrapped around your waist, tugging you against his chest. You lurched against him, and the sound of his raspy laughter filling your eardrums.

“You wanna dance? Let’s dance. Then you tell me what my dancing says to you.”

“W-Wait, Floyd…!”

He didn’t.

Floyd strung you along and down the street, swinging you erratically in his arms. With his long limbs swaying, he moved as naturally as a fish amid coral. For a creature of the sea, he had such grace on land that you could never tell his true origins.

He was the wind, a water current, a wayward traveler. Constantly changing and never truly contained.

Your panic and surprise easily melted into light-hearted laughter. And your feet, too, began to weave freely, as if wading on the shoreline, drawing indiscriminate shapes in the sand.

Realization struck you when you looked at him again. Your heart went thump-thump-thump, in a frantic little dance of its own.

What he’s trying to convey is…

Floyd met your gaze, sparks flying. His fingers interlocked with yours, he leaned in and grinned. Cheeks ruddy, eyes shining with exhibition.

“We don’t need words. Just our dancin’ shoes and each other!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Floyd Leech #twst x reader #Floyd Leech x reader #jp spoilers #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Reader #self insert #something no one asked for #Floyd birthday takeover

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sthavoc · 8 months ago

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Hi bestieeee, can I request something cute ? It could be short if you like.

You never call Enzo by his name he is used to hearing “mi amor” or whatever you like but when you say his name for something he’s like the confused pikachu meme like what did I do wrong? Who you talking to cuz that ain’t me I’m the love of your life future father of your children EXCUSE YOUUU TREAT ME WITH SOME RESPECT.

Thank you !! 💖

*๑՞ 🍏 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: you decide to pull a little prank on your boyfriend, wanting to see his reaction to you calling him by his name.

·˚ ༘ warnings: I believe it’s only fluff (if not i’m sorry)

·˚ ༘ note: guys i’m finally on spring break!! I can write more fics now! this one is a small blurb <3 i’m sorry if there’s any grammar mistakes.

The times you’ve called Enzo by his name could be counted. Those few moments could be times when the two of you would either fight or be on serious topics. Apart from that, his name wouldn't be a part of your daily vocabulary around him, or on the list of names you were used on calling him.

But today, you decided to see and test the waters. What would his reaction be to you randomly calling him by his name? Right now both of you found yourselves in the kitchen after you guys had gotten back home from doing your grocery shopping.

You thought this was perfect timing for you to ask him for something.

“¿Enzo, me pasas las manzanas por favor?” And there was his reaction. You tried to ignore it, but the facial expressions he had were difficult to dismiss. Your lips quivered from trying your best not to break character, you even had to seal them completely.

“¿Cómo me llamaste?” He spoke with confusion and astonishment in his tone. You never looked up from what you were doing and continued to put the groceries away.

“¿De qué hablas?” You followed along. The smallest of smiles broke from your lips when your back faced him and he wasn’t able to see any sign of facial expressions on your face.

“Me llamaste Enzo.” He sets both palms on the cold stone of the kitchen counter, his knuckles bending with the action. By this moment you had turned towards him again but continued to move.

“Pero si así te llamas amor.” You played dumb.

“No, no—” He points with his index before making his lips damped with his tongue. “Para vos yo soy tu “mi amor”, futuro marido, el padre de tus futuros hijos, el amor de tu vida.” You were trying your very best not to laugh right now. He appeared offended from hearing his name coming out of your lips.

You couldn't hide the smile on your lips, and he realized it. The crease that formed between his brows hadn't missed the way your cheeks grew for the smile. Which was when he asked—

“¿Por que sonreís?” he continued to look annoyed as you continued to smile.

You shook your head trying to cover your smile, but you were failing to. “Era una bromita amor.”

A smirk appeared on his lips, where he stuck his tongue inside his lower lip with a small shake of the head. “Ah ¿una bromita eh?” He copies. He had walked closer to you, his hands had found its way to your waist. “Pues tus bromitas me van a dar algo chiquita. Pero todo lo que dije es verdad eh.” He points.

“Lo se, y lo siento.” you whisper genuinely. Your eyes looked up at him while you continued to share your smile.

His index finger and thumb rested on your chin while the lack of space stayed between the two before he leaned in to share a gentle kiss. A kiss from which you were able to hear the smooch after you both pulled away.

“respeto, nena.” He said.

And you knew that the man meant for you to have respect for him, on knowing how to call him. It was mostly banter, but he did prefer for you to call him any cute pet name than his name. A million times.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic blurb #enzo vogrincic fic #enzo vogrincic imagine #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic x you

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hauntedrain · 11 months ago

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New Year, New me | Charles Leclerc x fem! reader |

Summary: Charles cares about your opinions, even when it comes down to a new haircut.

A/N: so of course this is about his new haircut, and personally I like it <3 so I based a lil something off of it. Also this is badly written cuz I was half asleep writing it but I hope you like it.

Warnings: the normal; not edited, really short, more of a Drabble tbh (500 words).

He was scared—most definitely scared. He liked the haircut—a new change for the off-season—but nonetheless, he was scared. He didn’t tell you about his plans for his haircut; he didn't even bring it up that he’s going to get one. So on his way back to the apartment, he was stressed. Would you like it? Hate it? wish it was different?

He knows you would never downright say you hated it, disliked it, or even commented on it if he enjoyed it. But he wanted your opinion; he knew how much you liked his hair before, and he’s seen a lot of stuff on social media about people's significant others getting a haircut and not liking it or them the same as before. So now that he was walking to the apartment he was preparing for the worst.

“Ma chérie, are you there?” He called out while closing the front door and facing an empty entryway and living space.

“I'm over in the room, Char!” You called out.

He put down the few small bags he had in his hand along with his keys as he walked over to your shared bedroom. He didn’t initially see you as he walked into the bedroom, but once he noticed the lights on in the bathroom and the slightly open door, he found where you were. He moved over and slowly opened the door, and he was met with you putting on what he assumes is a form of lipgloss or lipstick. You didn’t immediately notice him as you were too focused on your makeup; however, once you did, you turned around and hugged him, not noticing immediately the major change he made to his hair. He nuzzled into your neck and shoulder while returning the hug. You guys stayed like that for a bit until he pulled back a bit, looking down at you.

"Oh my god, you cut your hair!” You said this while looking up at him and finally noticing it. You ran your hands through the top part of it that was still fluffy while smiling a goofy but surprised smile.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He asked sheepishly while holding you.

“It’s pretty cute, you didn’t tell me you were gonna cut it. Was it a spring of the moment type thing?” You asked pulling him over to sit on the bed while you stand in front of him.

“I mean yeah, kinda. I wanted something new for the new year.”

“You took ‘new year, new me' seriously huh?” You said smiling at him while running your hands through his hair again. “It’s pretty though.”

“Thank you, ma chérie. I was worried you wouldn’t like it.” He said messing with the bracelets he was wearing. “But I’m glad you do. Now we just have to see what the fans think of it.”

“Bet they’ll like it, for the most part.” You said slightly laughing while going back to get ready for the event later that evening.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #drabble #formula 1 #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #short fanfic #one shot #fluff

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clairdelunelove · 10 months ago

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jealous!yuuji who adamantly snuffs out any attempts of flirtation directed towards you– even if you aren’t his

jealous!yuuji who’s stuck in the predicament of staying close friends with you. it’s an awkward struggle to teeter in-between the edge of what he wishes and reality. he’s a relatively decent guy. although he doesn’t have much he doesn’t need fancy ways or shiny things to gift you. instead, he gazes at you with honest eyes, takes your cold hands in his warm ones, and always remembers to lower his voice when you’re sleeping beside him. it’s genuine, authentic– him. and you’re on cloud nine. he catches the way your eyes flicker to his lips while he’s talking or how you borrow his sweatshirt more than once. but the two of you never speak a word about it. never owned up to any feelings in fear of losing the friendship you both shared. so it’s no wonder there are times like these where yuuji has to endure the flirtatious remarks thrown your way while the two of you are spending the day at the local arcade. and does yuuji blame the other person for finding you attractive? no, not completely. because you’re dazzling underneath the arcade’s fluorescent lights. vibrant shades of ruby, emerald, and gold dance off your soft features. takes every ounce of willpower within him not to gawk at you whenever he treats you to these outings. so he stands there, stiff and silent, as you toss him a desperate glance to bail you out of the situation. but you both know there’s nothing he can do. you’re not his. vaguely, he wonders if this qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment. it isn’t until the stranger pushes his luck, gets a bit too handsy with you, and yuuji– the sweetest and most selfless guy you know– snaps.

jealous!yuuji who instinctively reaches for your wrist when the stranger treads into your personal space. forgotten is the overpriced game that the two of you were in the middle of playing. yuuji had shoved his game-card into the machines’ slots (paying for yours in the process) and playfully mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to beat his high score. it’s a basketball game, of course. but now the game’s final buzzer rings to signal that the timer’s up and your game was cut short because of this brassy stranger. your face whips to yuuji, a call for him to help, and the blushy haired male is already reacting. he’s aware that’s one of your biggest pet peeves so it’s no wonder you’re startled. long fingers wrapped around your skin, he checks in with you by gently murmuring, “you okay?” you nod, focusing on how his brows crease as his hand moves to cradle your face and gauge your reaction. honeyed eyes skitter across your face, stopping just a second longer on your glossy lips. a couple moments pass before he’s dropping his grasp onto you and stuffing his hands back in his pockets. he’s so tense over such a small incident and the ideal causes your cheeks to warm. “I’m good, yuu. thanks,” you answer before the moment is interrupted by the overbearing stranger. “look, my bad. but,” the guy rubs at the back of his neck and explains, “you’re really pretty and I just wanted your number.” it’s not often you’re complimented in public so you’re compelled to force a sheepish smile, unable to detect how yuuji goes rigid at the statement, and apologize, “sorry but I’m not interested. thank you though.” you’re polite about it yet the flirt (apparently) isn’t used to getting turned down because he’s frowning. “it’s ‘cuz of your friend here, isn’t it?” then, the guy gives a pointed stare at yuuji’s closeness with you.

jealous!yuuji who’s peculiarly irate and blurting out, “friend?” his voice is unusually sharp. it’s like he’s spitting out venom when he says the word. taking a step in front of you, he uses his broad physique to cast a shroud over you. and you’re reminded just how wide his muscled shoulders are from under the faded cotton of his jacket. makes you dizzy. the swirls of forbidden desire biting at you. the stranger only shrugs in response to yuuji’s inquiry, muttering, “yeah. she’s not your girl right?” and yuuji clenches his jaw as he discerns the audacity of the other male’s words. taking yuuji’s silence in stride, the flirt makes a grab at your wrist and mentions, “so how about that number, beautiful–” but yuuji’s quicker. his calloused hand swats at the guy’s before he can tug you towards him. the smack produces a blow that you’re certain will sting until tomorrow morning. “she said no so get your hands off her, dude,” yuuji’s voice drops as his gaze narrows, “and don’t ever pull that crap around me again.” his expression is deadpanned. serious to the point of lethality. and if anyone knows anything about yuuji– it’s that he can fight. combat experience, power, stamina; he’s got it all. yet, it’s almost unnerving to hear such a tone of voice coming from him since you’ve only ever seen him upbeat. the stranger appears even more frightened than you are, though. a glance at yuuji’s veiny, muscled forearms and the guy is stumbling through a weak apology; even scurries away and leaves the both of you alone again. idle in the middle of the arcade. you stare up at him, only met with the back of his head where little tufts of blushy hair stick out underneath his backwards cap. yuuji’s eyes are still trained on the guy’s retreating figure. he exhales heavily once the stranger is completely gone but doesn't let his guard down. a beat of silence passes and the realization that he’d just scared off one of your potential suitors has his eyes widening in alarm.

jealous!yuuji who, when he whips around to face you, expresses the epitome of innocence. his pink lips are set in a pout that adds to the sheepishness written on his face, “sorry, I don’t know what came over me–” but to his shock, you’re laughing. you’re in full hysterics, clutching at your stomach and covering your mouth to maintain some sense of decency despite your giggles. usually yuuji’s nerves would settle from hearing that melodic sound but he’s stumped. genuinely baffled at your reaction to the whole ordeal. “what’re you laughing at?” he asks as his head whips to the direction the stranger sprinted off to and adds, “I don’t see anything funny.” and the pure bewilderment that he expresses is too amusing. “sorry, I just,” you take a breath and gesture to his face, “I’ve never seen you that mad before.” and the notion of why he wouldn't be irritated crosses his mind. “oh c’mon,” yuui huffs almost childishly, “you and I both know what he was trying to do.” he declares this like it’s the most obvious trick in the book. and when you quizzically tilt your head at his comment, a habit you do that never fails to make him swoon, he’s sputtering on his words. “you’re joking, he was literally flirting with you,” he swipes an exasperated hand over his face as his voice borders a whine, “while I was there!” and you can’t help but realize how much boyish charm yuuji carries with him. he gazes at you; starlight eyes looking into yours like you hold his heart in your hands. truly, it’s sensible to him– this vex that crept up on him like a monster and encompassed his entire being due to a singular person’s act. an inkling of bitterness that he’s never been greeted with. never felt the need to keep what’s important to him close. to encompass it: mind, body, and soul. perhaps his feelings towards you were stronger than he imagined.

jealous!yuuji who’s immediately dropping his uncharacteristic frown once your hands reach for him. he’s easily lulled into your space. you just have a magnetic pull that he never opposes and he doesn’t plan to any time soon. a soothed breath passes his lips when he recognizes your fingers brushing underneath his backwards cap. a small gesture that always works to relax him. leaning forward, he positions himself so it’s easier for you to smooth the strands of his tousled hair from where it’s hidden from view. “that jerk could’ve asked anyone else for their number,” he grumbled, breaking the stillness. you glance at him as he chews at his lower lip, sulking at the audacity of the stranger that found you attractive. you’re giggling at his honest display of affection and the sound is like a balm over his unease. understanding that alleviates his spite. “are you jealous, yuu?” you tease but your voice is sweet. and you’re wholeheartedly expecting him to retort, in true yuuji fashion, but his silence stuns you. instead, he turns to bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your candied perfume, and relishes your embrace. he’s smitten by you. entirely. and you’re glancing to the side in a daze, memories and possibilities of the two of you dancing in your mind. a dream that you frequent more than you care to count. after a couple moments he pulls away with both hands grasping your shoulders. pure devotion drips from his eyes. you’re suddenly getting hot around the collar of your shirt and the tips of his ears are flushed but it was clear; this secret that was known between the both of you. the undeniable truth that yuuji was jealous– over you. and you jolt when he quietly (finally) mumbles, “I just didn’t like that too much, alright?”

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji fluff #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

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luminique · 28 days ago

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how do u think lighter and the rest of SoC would act if his partner got their period? im talking like . really bad cramps that basically render them immobile and, of course, mood swings. i would love to see ur take on that…

i’m answering this now cuz i am literally going through period cramps like aughhhgdjsgskshajbs

i am so sure that lighter is PREPARED with these things. look no further than the Sons of Calydon, four girls. so when it comes to that time of the month, lighter is normally the one who’d have to go out to buy pads, tampons, painkillers, sweets and more.

the girls had all noticed that you weren’t outside, hanging out with them. they turned to lighter to ask him where you were and at first, he tried not to show that he was worried, brushing it off and saying that it’s probably nothing too bad. something in his head was telling him to go check up on you, maybe it was a gut feeling. either way, he slipped right past the girls (pretty obviously and they knew where he was going).

he knocked on your door, always waiting for a response. he could hear your shifting around in your bed and then your voice, weakly calling him in. you were all bundled up under the sheets but you clearly seemed uncomfortable. only with you, his body moves so naturally, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

“hey, everything alright?” his voice filled with worry, trying to not let it show though. his hand tries to reach for your arm but he pulls back, keeping it close to him.

“cramps,” your frustrated voice comes through the blanket. as if on command, he immediately stood up and ran out of the room, but came back in no time with a box full of essentials. he placed it on the ground, digging out the painkillers and a bottle of water.

“come here,” he called out to you gently, tugging on the blanket just a little. you begrudgingly sit up after a little bit of time, clearly grumpy and in pain. you take the medication from him, swallowing it up with the water. you weren’t in the best of moods, cranky and not wanting to do too much in this state and he understood that without saying much.

he grabs something small wrapped in plastic, rips it open and heats it up in his hands. he’s trying to signal to you with his eyes if he has permission to get under the covers with you, lifting up the blanket just a little. how could you say no? so you scoot over just a little, giving him enough space. once he was close to you, he placed the small packet near your abdomen, over your shirt. it was a heating pad, not too hot but not too cold.

you were slowly leaning back into the bed, the warmth of the heating pad and the painkillers beginning to work its magic. you could hear the sounds of metal clinging as lighter began to remove his jacket and gloves.

“it’ll help you feel better,” he murmured quietly as he got closer to you. partly true as that gave you warmth but it was more because he wanted to be close to you. not before long, you were able to sleep comfortably in his arms as you both cuddled the period pains away.

#lumiresponds ˚✧₊⁎☆#lighter zzz #zzz lighter #lighter lorenz #lighter x reader #hes gotchu bestie i just KNOW he does #also i’m saying this with my own experience of having an older brother #i had to tell him which painkillers to buy in the beginning #but now hes a pro #I TAUGHT THAT MAN MHM MHM #anyways i think lighter could be the same in the beginning #a little unsure at first when they were all on their period #but then after lots of trial and error #he literally has the perfect emergency box in his room #I SAID SO !!#like i know the girls would definitely have their own stash but its always a ‘just in case’#ya anyways im in pain rn so im gonna go put a heat pack on and take some painkillers lmao bye

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flashbangstars · 10 months ago

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NCT dream as people you met on public transport

as someone who lives in a big city this was simply fitting

Mark

he took the last seat as you both got on at the same stop

he made awkward eye contact as he notices you standing infront of him as he was sitting

and them proceeded to look at you ever couple minutes while he was sitting

he had headphones in, but with how shit they were you could hear the justin bieber songs leaking through and he was now on his 6th jb song

it was like he literally had just a jb playlist

GOD ANOTHER ONE

every time the train would stop for a station he would pull one earbud out and look around wildly and then once he realized it wasn't his spot he would put the earbud back

when you had zoned out staring off into the distance you felt a poke at your leg.

"you can have my seat when I get off"

#1 jb stan was being a gentlemen

you weren't sure if he was aware, but he had been loudly humming the songs as they past and he currently was halfway through one less lonely girl

when the train slowed to your stop, jb stan shot up abruptly leaving less than 2 inches between the two of you

and like screeched a little bit?

Running towards the exit of the train and waiting for the doors to open

once they opened he darted across the platform to the same train on the other side going the opposite way

Justin bieber boy missed his stop too lost in the jb sauce : (

Renjun

your usual go to is putting ur backpack on the seat next to you, (because you get enjoyment from being an asshole)

two stops into your commute, shorty came up to you and pointed at your backpack

you took your airpod out and looked up

"can you move your bag

no "please", no "is it ok" NOTHING

you begrudgingly moved your bag onto to your lap

he sat down next to you and put his own headphones on

the good news was he smelled really good

like sophisticated richness

like he owned a yacht and went to expensive restaurants

you just usually stole whatever perfume your roommate left out in the bathroom (with permission)

and why are the mean looking bitches always hot??

He looks like he perpetually sucks on lemons, but I want him!

halfway through the ride you had been zoned out and knew your stop wasn't for a bit, you felt a tug at your bag

your ass clenched in fear, cuz like am I being robbed??

looking down slightly you watched as ice prince was mindlessly playing with the keychain that hung from your bag that was in his space

you didn't move a inch as if not to spook him (jesus christ hes not a fucking animal)

he then snapped out of it and dropped the keychain and looked up quickly to see if you noticed, not expecting you to be already looking

he flinched a bit and eyes widened

"oh.. I'm so sorry" he apologized putting his hands up

you reach down again and grab the keychain he had been playing with and hold it up

"I got it from gas station because I thought it was cool"

his small hand slowly creeped down again to grab the keychain once more

"oh, It looks really cool" he said softly and played with the charms

you two then spent the rest of the trip talking about the trinkets on your bags

Jeno

he was on the train when you got on, he was sitting at one of the double seats by the door

when he saw you get on he moved his sports duffle from the seat next to him onto the floor and gave you that look of "you can sit here if you want"

he had on those big over ear headphones and a giant ass hoodie n sweats

if you were being honest he was kinda hot

when you sat down next to him it was incredibly hard to not make awkward eye contact with him as he was beside you

it was semi hot outside since it was the end of spring and so you both were in shorts

you had that weird skin to skin contact at first and I think it sparked some sort of carnal desire

very much so a inside us there are two wolves moment

you couldn't even tell anyone about your experience because he could see your screen and you didn't have one of those privacy ones!

you had to suffer in silence, job harder than the soldiers : (

when your stop came, you went. reach above and pull the line, but he beat you to it and reached his arm over you doing it first.

well now you just had to follow him home!

kidding!

Haechan

You had 10 stops before yours, and you were sitting in front of the lit up board that tracked the stops.

your roommate got on usually 5 stops after you to join you otw home so you weren't worried about missing the stop

You put headphones in and leaned your head back to escape the harsh bright lights of the train.

30 minutes pass and you open your eyes to your roommate sitting on the side opposite you with a devious ass look on her face

the rest of your body wakes up from your power nap and become aware of the weight on your head and your arms

you had fallen asleep and wrapped your hands around the arm of the guy next to you..

and you had rested your head on his shoulder...

what the FUCK DO I DO NOW?

A Midst your panic you notice the weight on top of your head....

HE HAD FALLEN ASLEEP ON YOU????

you slowly snake your hand out from his arm and check your phone.

you had 67 notifications in your groupchat...

opening it, you find 7 pictures of you and this literally STRANGER asleep on each other.

waitttttt.... whys he kinda hot......

this actually may not be bad!

love and affection FOR THE FREE?

lemme take my ass back to sleep

the next time you woke up you had been repositioned now with your head on your friends shoulder

damn how fucking hard did you sleep....

you look around and nap stranger had disappeared

you felt your heart clench at the loss of your momentary wattpad relationship, mourning the hot man who had fallen asleep on you

becoming aware of your limbs again you tighten your grip around your phone and bring it up to check the notifications to find a bright yellow post it note stuck to the screen

"thanks for the nap : ) 999-999-9999"

this was a major win for women everywhere

Jaemin

the bus in the morning was this like devastating liminal space

it was cold

the lights were bright

and you kinda wanted to get hit by the bus

because of how early it is, you usually were one of the only people on the bus

today two stops in a fucking mens model on on the bus!!

sir what are you doing in this metal prison!

he sat in the back on the raised portion while you stayed in the front

you glanced up to look at him again, because.. shit if this was going to be the highlight of your morning you would take it

but when you looked up you made direct eye contact with him

playing off smoothly you did the thing where you kinda look to the side ish

looking back again you make eye contact AGAIN

hello???

as you two hold this prolonged eye contact, he raised his hand and waVED?

yall hear that meowing??? thats just my puss- GUNSHOTS

you wave back and smile your best "Im a innocent girl, but can take it like a champ" smile

and watch as he grabs his bag and stands

ur ass clenches thinking this will be the last time you may come across prince charming, but then unclenches when you realize it is also your stop

Getting up you follow ahead and go to the door exiting. walking down the street in the early morning listening to some fuckass songs trying to make the reality of 8 am classes seem better

when a hand grips your shoulder

21 years of being a woman and also a anxious mess you scream and turn around with your hands up

just to see sexy man from bus!

sexy man from bus what are you doing here?

"i am so sorry, you just didn't here me calling, so I just grabbed you I don't know why I did that, especially you're a woman alone, I don't know why I didn't think of that first?.."

sexy bus man was now rambling

"its ok!!" you say trying to put SBM (sexy bus man) out of his misery

"oh uh, well you left this on the bus, when you got up I think it got stuck on the seat, and i figured since we got off at the same stop I would just grab it.."

rambling seemed to be a common occurrence for SBM

looking down you saw the familiar hello kitty keychain you had on the back of your bag that you spent way to much money on a claw game for in his hand

"thank you sexy bu- SIR"

"..... your welcome"

Chenle

it was 7am on a Wednesday night and bro just got on the train in a pair of sunglasses on.

it was almost never that serious

it was in the morning and you were waiting for a friend and saving a seat hence the double seat with one side with your backpack

the sunglasses walked down the aisle and stopped at your chair.

not even asking, he grabbed your backpack with his grimy hands and moved it to be next to you, then sitting down opposite

you literally felt your eye twitch because like HUH?

"excuse me? I'm waiting for someone, they literally just got on at this stop"

sunglasses perked up the slightest and directed his gaze towards you "I don't see them"

you literally felt your eye twitch again and you chest tighten because of the audacity

your friend at that moment walked into the car, prompting you to point and say "okay well she's here now, you can move"

to which sunglasses shrugged and and said "I'm comfortable, why are you so opposed to sharing?"

you heard your friend laugh in disbelief and your eye twitched AGAIN

Your friend squished in next to you and you ended up sitting across from Sunglasses

your thighs were burning from you sitting tightly so your knees wouldn't brush, and your resolve to stare at him until his exploded was dwindling

with a huff you relaxed and felt your knee nudge his and cried a little inside but dealt with it

When the train arrived you got up and walked out of the seat before he could and went to your bus stop

sitting at the bend you felt a tap at your shoulder and looked up

GASP it was sunglasses! without sunglasses!

GASP why was sunglasses kinda hot!?

GASP wait why sunglasses here?!!!

Sunglasses smiled a bit and put his hand out "I figure I'd introduce myself, since we had such a lovely time on the train together, I'm Chenle"

you could feel how wide your mouth was hanging in disbelief and you stared at the surprisingly well manicured hand in front of you

but deciding against your morals, you shook his hand and introduced yourself

"nice to meet you Y/N, you wouldn't mind if we sat together on the bus right"

Jisung

The train during rush hour was a fucking nightmare, your class ended at 4:50 and the only line that could take you to your apartment from the university is the most popular one

when the door open you pushed in to the train and literally no seats were open.

you gripped the railing and tried to widen your stance a bit to keep stability

the train started and apparently the conductor was having a bad fucking day because he was fucking stomping on the breaks

each stop jolted you so aggressively that you feared for your life and dignity if you were to fall on this here train

after about three stops of fighting for you life, your hand was beginning to be slip from the sweat on the railing and your arm was throbbing from tensing for the last 20 minutes

all of a sudden the conductor hits the break once

...your hand slipping from the railing

and then hits it again a second time

.........you lose your footing

you fall backwards and close your eyes waiting to land embarrassingly on your ass.

instead............

you fall on the seats behind you

you feel a hand out of instinct grab your waist to stop you from falling more and another hand goes on your thigh to stop your legs.

opening your eyes you make eye contact with someone.....who honestly looks more scared/embarrassed than you are??

He looks like a guy around your age and is staring at you with these dark eyes as if you were taking your last dying breath in his lap

"are you okay" he asks sounding... once again more embarrassed than you were!???

"I'm okay! thank you!" you say still sitting bridal style in his lap

neither of you moves

like he still is deadass cradling you right now in public

"uh can I get up...?" you say and you watch his face flush red all over

"OH yeah, I'm so sorry" he says unhanding you

you stand in front of him and grab onto the loop in front of him

and..... you both spend the rest of the train ride avoiding eye contact because you both turn red when you do meet eyes.

______

im going to proofread later pls excuse if it seems like im illiterate

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cherryrainn · 10 months ago

Note

hello! i've noticed you've started writing for slashers now. can i pleaaaaseee get a chucky (show) x depressed/suicidal reader? like they come back from school and have a little breakdown and chucky does something about it cuz he has a soft spot for them?

STRIVE .

; pairing ; chucky x reader (platonic)

; note ; i love this little guy so much thank you for your ask aaa

; warnings ; implied/mentions of self-harm, self harm scars, depression, suicidal thoughts

the door slammed shut as you stumbled into your room, backpack dropping to the floor. the weight of the day pressed down on your shoulders, and the room felt like a suffocating mess. you kicked off your shoes, barely registering the mess around you.

little did you remember the small doll on your shelf, his tiny eyes watching your every move. he had an unusual soft spot for you.

your hands shook as you tried to pull yourself together, but the room seemed to spin with chaos. clothes were scattered, and the once-organized desk was now a disaster zone. your vision blurred with unshed tears, and in a moment of desperation, you swiped everything off the desk.

thunk.

a small sound caught your attention, and you looked down to see chucky lying on the floor, separated from his usual perch. his eyes seemed to convey a mix of concern and annoyance.

"aw, come on, kid. watch where you're throwin' stuff," he grumbled, picking himself up from the floor.

you blinked, recognizing the doll but not fully comprehending the situation. "chucky? what are you doing here?"

he rolled his eyes, a hint of impatience in his tiny features. "been keepin' an eye on you, remember? you look like you're having a.. rough day."

you sighed, running a hand through your disheveled hair. "it's more than a rough day. everything just feels... bad."

as you spoke, chucky's sharp eyes took in the state of your room, the disarray reflecting the chaos within you. when you absentmindedly reached for something, a small glint of metal catching the light, he noticed the blade in your hand.

"whoa, whoa, whoa! what do you think you're doing?" chucky's tone shifted from annoyance to genuine concern.

your gaze dropped to the blade, and a shaky breath escaped your lips. "i don't know. everything just hurts."

he huffed, shaking his tiny head. "you gotta cut that shit out." he realizes what he says and shakes his head "there's better ways to deal with this stuff. trust me."

without waiting for your response, chucky jumped onto the bed, grabbing a tissue box from the nightstand. he began tidying up the room, muttering to himself about how a clean space might help clear your head.

you watched in a mix of confusion and gratitude as chucky worked, helping you without a hint of his usual murderous intent. the doll's actions spoke louder than his words ever could, and slowly, the weight on your chest began to ease.

when the room was somewhat orderly, chucky hopped back onto the bed, giving you a small nod. "alright. let's see the damage you did to yourself," he said, his tone stern.

you hesitated, feeling a strange mix of shame and vulnerability. slowly, you revealed the self-inflicted wounds on your arms. the harsh reality of your actions was laid bare for chucky to see.

chucky's features turned grim as you revealed the scars and wounds that marred your skin.

"damn it. look at what you're doin' to yourself," chucky growled, a flicker of anger in his tiny eyes. "you think this is gonna solve anything?"

his words stung, but there was an odd sincerity in the way he spoke. you could tell he wasn't one for empty platitudes or gentle reassurances; he dealt in harsh realities.

"hurtin' yourself ain't gonna fix a damn thing. you're just addin' more pain."

you bit your lip, fighting back tears as the weight of chucky's honesty settled in the room.

"i know it's messed up, chucky," you admitted, your voice a whisper. "but what else am i supposed to do? talking to people doesn't help. it never does."

chucky sighed, his tiny features scowling. "yeah, talkin' ain't usually the answer. but this?" he gestured to your scars. "this sure as shit ain't either."

the small doll hopped off the bed, pacing the room as he continued, "you gotta find somethin' else, somethin' that makes you feel alive, even if it's just for a damn minute. for me, it's killin' people. it's what makes me feel alive, it's not about fixin' everything; it's about findin' somethin' worth hangin' on for."

"i get that,," you mumbled, wiping away a stray tear. "but it's hard."

he shot you a stern look, his tiny hands planted firmly on his hips. "life's a damn tough ride, kid. but you're tougher."

you stayed silent, looking down.

"come on," chucky said, suddenly shifting gears. "let's get you something to distract that fucked-up brain of yours. ever tried playing video games?"

you blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in tone. "video games? really, chucky?"

he nodded, a sly grin crossing his plastic face. "trust me, it beats the hell out of scarin' yourself."

#CHUCKY #charles lee ray #chucky series #childs play #y/n #reader insert #x reader #ask #fluff #platonic #slasher #slasher x reader #chucky x reader #charles lee ray x reader

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tenjikyu · 2 months ago

Note

Okay! With your earlier reply in mind, here is my second request *slides it across the nonexistent table*

I've been having major Mitsuya brain rot so obviously this request will be about him :>

Picture this: Final timeline adult Mitsuya doing all his fashion designing stuff x house spouse (gn version of housewife/househusband).

Genre can be fluff, maybe a bit suggestive if that's okay with you, I don't mind either way, I am just dying for some Mitsuya works cuz I swear I've read most of the gn and male reader x him fics out there and I am starving for new content with him

Hopefully this was coherent and had at least something you could work with (if you need anything more specific, I can send another request)

— 🎭

𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘍𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ mitsuya x GN!housespouce!reader , pure fluff n slightly suggestive but it’s nothing more then kissing, I 💗 mitsuya omg, still haven’t rewatched Tokyo rev I’ve been slack 🙁, short n sweet but I was struggling to finish it and I didn’t wanna keep the people waiting much longer so I do apologise.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ I’m so sorry for how long this took!! I desperately wanted to get this out before it hit the 1 month mark but I’ve been super duper busy with personal shit! Hope it’s still good enough lmao.

Takashi ironed the fabric with the upmost care, fondling the silk around the board with a low heat level on. The design itself was a dress resembling a lotus flower. The top was beaded with pale pink rhinestones and the bottom consisted with an array of green silks and gems. It had a sharp yet form fitting feel and anyone could tell the designer put the upmost love into the piece.

A gentle knock came from the other side of his work studio, and there was only one person it could be.

“Here darling, I made you some miso soup to have. Light enough it’ll keep you full but still good for dinner”, your voice charms his ears. Ever since moving in with him, you’ve taken on the role of housespouce. You clean and cook for him, in order to provide the best possible space for Takashi to work in.

It had been twelve years since the two of you got together in middle school. You were the schools vice president, and he was a gang member. Despite the opposite worlds, you hung out frequently and even babysat his sisters when he was unavailable. The day Takashi knew he wanted to some day marry you was the day he came home to his two younger sisters resting in your lap, washed dishes and comfortably lying on the futon.

Now, the two of you reside in an upper class place with lots of room for Takashi’s designs, and none of them are anything short of ethereal. Behind every design he creates, inspiration of you seeps through the thread and needle. Your favourite flower, animal, colour and styles all influence Takashi’s dresses and all of them are of the highest quality.

So, whenever you come into the studio, Takashi gives you a big grin and awaits a hug from his favourite partner.

“How’s your day, darling?” He asks you, and you smile gently at him.

“I’ve missed you, I can’t deny. It seems you’ve been locked in here forever”.

“I apologise my dear”.

“I know another way you can’t make it up to me..” you grin at him, and his cheeks flush with a pink hue.

Kissing his Adam’s apple gently, you guide him up and out of the studio, into your bedroom. Lying his cherished body onto the bed, you feel up his torso as you continue to litter him with small hickies.

He soon follows your lead, pressing a loving kiss to your cultivating lips. You swear there’s nothing closer to heaven than this man’s touch, and you’re convinced you’ve ascended as he grips your cheeks to deepen your kiss.

“I’ve missed you too, darling”, Takashi presses another kiss to your collarbone and manoeuvres his hands around your waist, and you sigh gently at his grip.

“I promise you I’ll give you what you want, after we eat dinner “, you giggle, and his pout is nothing short of cute.

“So you lead me to bed and suddenly leave me high and dry? I’m hurt baby”, he chuckles out, pressing one last kiss to the wedding ring on your finger.

“After dinner, I’ll give you all the desert you desire my love”.

#takashi #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya takashi #takashi x reader #mitsuya x reader #Tokyo revengers #Tokyo rev #Tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #male reader #Tokyo rev x reader #Tokyo rev x male reader

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superbreadsoul · 13 days ago

Text

DON’T BAIL ON ME

Matt Murdock x Reader

DISCLAIMER: The following story is purely fictional and is made for entertainment purposes. I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.

WARNING: Heartbreak, no happy-ending, Matt is emotionally constipated, Reader is unable to take responsibility as well. Elektra (cuz she’s hawt).

WORD COUNT: 5119 WORDS

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

Matt’s voice trembled with concern as he heard her step through the door, sensing her eyes downcast, her posture tense. He had been pacing for what felt like hours, his mind running wild with worry. The clock on the wall mocked him with every passing second. He hadn’t heard from her all day. He hadn’t seen her since their plans had been set.

"Hey, sweetheart," he began, his tone more gentle than usual, but heavy with the weight of unspoken fear. "I was worried about you. Where have you been?"

Her response was quiet, almost reluctant, as if she was debating whether or not to let him in on the truth. "At the hospital."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart skipped a beat. "What? Why? Are you okay?"

His feet moved instinctively toward her, but she didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she stepped back, a wall of frustration and hurt suddenly building between them. He halted, sensing the shift, his worry now mingling with confusion.

"Yeah," she said, her voice tight. "I was visiting Barry."

There was an unmistakable edge to her words, and Matt froze, the weight of her response settling in. Barry. The name stung. He had heard about Barry—her ex, the doctor— the one she couldn’t quite escape, the one who always seemed to pull her back in. He had known this day would come. He just hadn’t expected it to feel so… personal. Little did he know, that wasn't what she was seemingly hesitant about.

"Oh," Matt said, his voice trailing off as he tried to keep his composure. He noticed a familiar scent around her, something sweet and floral. "You—smell nice."

She blinked, her lips tightening into a thin line. “Really?” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I wanted to smell nice for our date. Thanks for showing up, by the way.”

Matt’s heart clenched. The biting tone in her voice stung, but it was nothing compared to the way the truth had just hit him. His sightless eyes bounced, full of remorse and regret. His mind raced, desperately trying to piece together where everything had gone wrong.

"Oh sweetheart," he whispered, his words catching in his throat. "I’m so sorry. It… it slipped my mind. I’m so, so sorry."

He stepped forward, his hands reaching for her, but she pulled back slightly, the distance between them growing, thick with unspoken anger.

"Are you?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and disbelief. She glanced up at him, the vulnerability in her voice almost too much for him to bear. "Are you really sorry, Matt?"

Her question hung in the air, and for a moment, he was speechless. All he could hear was the rapid beat of his own heart, and the deafening silence that followed. He had forgotten their date. He had let her down. Again.

Matt’s breath hitched as he took another step closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more sincere tone. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

The words were tentative, but they were filled with an unspoken plea for her to let him in, to let him fix this, to let him make things right. But she only stood there, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

Matt had known her long enough to recognize the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. But this—this was different. This was something deeper, something he couldn’t fix with an apology alone.

"Natchios."

The name dropped from Y/N's lips like a stone sinking into the silence of the room, heavy and uninvited. It echoed through the small space, reverberating off the walls and into Matt’s chest, where it lodged like a shard of ice. The very surname that had haunted him for years. The one name he thought he had left behind. The name of the woman who had once ruled his world in a storm of chaos and passion—and who, no matter how hard he tried, was never truly gone.

“What?” Matt froze, his blood running cold, his breath caught in his throat. The dread settled in, slow and suffocating. He had thought he could outrun it, that he had buried that past deep enough for it to never resurface. But now, standing before him, was Y/N, looking at him with eyes that said she knew, and with a smile that barely disguised the hurt and the bitterness.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a bitter, almost rueful grin. “I was so caught up with the trial, I didn’t realise it at first. I’d never heard a name so unique. Then I thought, hey, actually, I have. I’ve only ever known one person with a name that unique. She had a pretty unique personality too. Elektra Natchios. Huh.”

Matt’s heart hammered in his chest, and he felt a cold sweat prick at the back of his neck. Her words stung deeper than he could have imagined. There was no hiding now, no pretending that this wasn’t happening. He couldn't see it but he knew that Y/N was no longer looking at him with the gentle affection of someone who had shared quiet moments of love. Now, she was looking at him with something else: pain. And the realization that everything he had tried to protect her from had come crashing down.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed at him, her gaze sharp and cutting, as she began to recall their past. “God, I hated that stupid Chevy Belair Coupe she used to drive around to pick you up. Then you’d get in the passenger seat with a big smile on your face, bunking all your classes.” She chuckled, but the sound was hollow, edged with something bitter and pained. “And I wouldn’t hear from you for days. Three days, Matt. I didn’t hear from you for three damn days.”

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He wanted to apologise, to explain, but the words felt useless. How could he explain any of it without dragging her deeper into the mess that was his life with Elektra?

Elektra.

Just the thought of her made his stomach twist, but the worst part was the knowledge that Y/N had been right all along. He had never fully severed the connection with Elektra, and now, it was here, in front of him, like a spectre from his past.

Y/N’s eyes flashed with an icy determination. "She’s here, isn’t she? Like Stick? You can come out now.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and accusing. Matt’s breath hitched, and before he could protest or stop it, Y/N’s gaze flicked toward the door of the bedroom. The silence that followed was oppressive, and Matt’s heart sank as he knew exactly who would walk through that door, already hearing her heels clicking. He didn’t need to say a word. He didn’t have to.

From the shadows of the hallway, Elektra emerged.

“Hello, Y/N,” Elektra’s voice was smooth, almost amused, like she had been waiting for this moment, anticipating the fallout from Matt’s past finally catching up with him.

Elektra’s steps were confident, every movement exuding the kind of smug self-assurance Matt had never been able to shake. She stood tall in the doorway, her presence dominating the room even as she leaned casually against the frame. There was a faint, cruel smile playing at the edges of her lips as she looked past Matt to Y/N.

Matt’s stomach turned. Elektra had always had that way of walking into a room like she owned it, like everyone in it was just another pawn in her game. He hated that about her. He hated the way she always made him feel like he was nothing more than a fool to be played with.

“Elektra,” Y/N said, her voice tight with controlled fury. "I should have known you’d be here. Always lurking in the shadows, making everything more complicated than it needs to be."

Elektra’s eyes gleamed with something cold, calculating. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just here to see Matthew, just like I always have been.”

Matt’s chest tightened. “Y/N, I—”

But Y/N held up a hand, the air shifting as she did, silencing him before he could finish. Her eyes, once soft with affection, now burned with a mix of pain and anger, and he realized, too late, that this was a breaking point. A fracture in their relationship that couldn’t be healed with empty words.

“What? You’re sorry?” Y/N asked, the disbelief thick in her voice. “For what, Matt? For still being tied to her after all this time? For letting her come back into your life, into our life, like nothing ever changed?”

Matt took a step forward, but it was like walking on a tightrope. Every word he tried to say felt heavier than the last, his voice faltering as he reached for her. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“It never is,” Y/N snapped, her voice a mixture of frustration and grief. "You’re still lying to me, Matt. You’re still lying to me, even now.”

Y/N’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, a sharpness that immediately cut through the tension in the room. “Matt and I need to talk, so I’m sorry, but I’d like you to leave.”

Elektra didn't flinch. She gave a soft, almost mocking smile, the same smile Matt had once found irresistible, traced it with his own fingers, now a twisted reminder of everything he was trying to move past. “Alright.” She didn’t hesitate, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she turned toward Matt’s bedroom, making her way back into the shadows of his life.

But before she could slip out of sight, Y/N’s voice stopped her cold, the words laced with authority. “—The apartment.”

Elektra paused mid-step, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but it was quickly masked by that same smug composure.

Matt opened his mouth, but his throat tightened as the reality of the situation began to settle in. He had never heard Y/N so resolute, and despite everything he wanted to say, he knew that this wasn’t his battle to fight. Still, he hated the feeling of being stuck in the middle. “Y/N—” he started, his voice soft, trying to diffuse the tension.

“—You speak when I ask you to speak.” Her voice cut through his words like a knife, leaving no room for argument.

Matt flinched, a sigh escaping him. His frustration built inside him, the weight of being trapped between the two women he cared about—one from his past, one from his present. He dropped his head, hands on his hips, trying to control the burning anger bubbling within him. The last thing he wanted was this kind of confrontation, but it was inevitable, wasn’t it? A situation of his own making.

Elektra, as if sensing Matt's turmoil, gave him one last smirk before she silently walked out, her footsteps echoing as she left the apartment. But even with her gone, the tension in the room was suffocating. Y/N stood there, arms crossed, her eyes trained on Matt, who didn’t move. The silence stretched between them like a chasm, filled with things unsaid.

“I’m not gonna have a one-sided conversation, so can you please turn around?” Y/N’s voice was stern, but there was an underlying hurt that Matt couldn’t ignore.

Reluctantly, Matt turned to face her. His jaw was tight, the weight of her gaze almost unbearable. For a second, he was relieved that he wouldn't have to see that scathing look on her face Foggy always talked about. He knew what was coming next, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asked, her tone softening only slightly as she tried to understand, but the confusion in her eyes was clear.

Matt opened his mouth, the words caught somewhere between guilt and frustration. “About what?” he asked, feigning ignorance, but even to him, the question felt hollow. He couldn’t pretend anymore.

Y/N’s eyes flicked to the door where Elektra had just left, and her voice was barely above a whisper as she listed out the things that had been gnawing at her. “About Stick. About Elektra. About everything that’s been hanging over us since the moment we got together. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her words hit harder than she probably realised, and Matt’s breath faltered. The truth was, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to share it. Not because he didn’t trust her, but because he had hoped—no, he had needed—to believe that he could keep his past locked away. That Elektra, Stick, and all the messes of his old life would stay buried, far from Y/N. But he had been fooling himself. And now, here she was, asking him the one question he couldn’t dodge.

“Because you walked out on me before I could tell you,” Matt said, his voice thick with frustration, his hands clenched at his sides. His sightless eyes were wild, somewhat searching for hers—waiting so that she might tell him that she understood, or at least would understand, if he could just explain it all.

Y/N didn’t flinch at his words, but the hurt was unmistakable. She stood there, her arms still crossed, her gaze unwavering. She had always been so patient with him, so understanding. But this—this was too much.

“You think I walked out on you?” she asked, her voice tight, trying to keep the trembling anger at bay. “You think I just left? You’re the one who shut me out, Matt. You’re the one who didn’t trust me with the truth. You kept me at arm’s length, and now I’m supposed to believe it was just because you couldn’t find the right time to tell me?”

Matt took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a frustration that was barely contained. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice lower now, softer but still heavy with regret. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to drag you into that world. But you—you wouldn’t have understood. You wouldn’t have accepted it.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she stepped closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle, Matt. You don’t get to keep things from me because you’re afraid of how I’ll react. I’m your partner. You tell me. You trust me.”

Y/N’s voice was laced with frustration as she tried to make him understand, but Matt could sense that her patience was starting to wear thin. “Besides, I was rightfully upset—”

“—Is there a point to this conversation?” Matt interrupted, his tone sharp, his shoulders tense. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to keep spinning in this cycle of misunderstandings and hurt feelings. He just wanted it to go back to the way it was. He wanted everything to feel normal again.

Y/N blinked, her expression one of bewilderment and frustration. “What do you mean, ‘is there a point’? Matt, of course, there’s a point! I want you to talk to me!” She said the words with an exasperated urgency, as if she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t getting it.

Matt’s jaw clenched, and he turned away for a moment, trying to steady himself. “There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N. Besides, you made it clear yesterday that you didn’t want to talk to me.”

The hurt in his voice was unmistakable, and Y/N’s chest tightened. The memory of last night—the way she’d stormed out, the way Matt had closed himself off—was still fresh. It felt like a betrayal, but even more so, it felt like the same pattern she had been trying to avoid. He was slipping away from her, like he always did.

Her heart pounded as she stared at him, frustration bubbling up again. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about,” she said, her finger gesturing towards him. “You just brush it all off. It’s like you won’t even try to understand why I’m upset!”

Matt’s eyes flashed, frustration building in his chest. He didn’t know how to explain it, how to make her understand that his silence wasn’t about her, but about the things inside him that he didn’t know how to talk about. “What?” he snapped back, unable to hide the rawness in his voice. “What do you want from me, Y/N?”

“God! It’s always one step forward and ten steps back with us!” she nearly shouted, her voice full of pent-up frustration. “It’s always the same thing! You do something, and I pull away. I do something, and you pull away. We can’t keep doing this, Matt! I can’t keep feeling like I’m the only one trying to hold this together.”

The words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to explain that it wasn’t just her—that it wasn’t always her fault. But the truth was, his own insecurities were starting to drown out the words. His fear of being abandoned, of losing her, was starting to seep into every crack of their relationship, and he didn’t know how to fight it.

“We talk, don’t we?” Matt said cynically, crossing his arms as he looked at where he assumed her eyes were, his expression closed off. “I’m right here standing in front of you.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she shot back with a bitter laugh, the sting of his words landing harder than he’d realised. “As opposed to how lately, every conversation I have with you is towards your back?” she said, her voice full of incredulity. “You’re physically here, Matt, but you’ve been gone for a while now.”

Matt flinched at the accusation, the weight of her words cutting deep. He opened his mouth to argue, but the frustration in Y/N’s voice silenced him before he could speak.

“What the hell does that mean?” he snapped back, his confusion mixing with his growing anger.

Y/N’s words were sharp, cutting through the air between them like a blade. “It means you avoid me!” she deadpanned, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “It means your first instinct is to run away from me the second things get a little bit rough.” She pointed directly at him, her eyes narrowing as she squinted up at him in disbelief. She rocked her hand in the air, as if to emphasise how often he pulled away, how shaky he could be when things weren't easy.

Matt’s heart beat erratically in his chest as she spoke, the truth in her words hitting him like a freight train. She wasn’t wrong. He had always pulled away when things got tough. His instinct had always been to retreat into the safety of silence, of isolation, of not facing the things that scared him the most.

“I don’t run,” Matt muttered, his voice low and defensive. “I—”

“You do,” she interrupted sharply, cutting him off before he could finish. “I’m not an idiot, Matt. I can see it. You shut down. You turn away. You make yourself small, and you expect me to just stand here and wait for you to come back.”

Matt stood there, frozen for a moment, the words hanging in the air like a weight he couldn’t escape. His breath was shallow, his chest tight. The things Y/N was saying, the things she was pointing out, weren’t easy to hear, but they were the truth. And deep down, he knew it.

“I don’t run!” Matt growled stubbornly in denial.

Matt's chest tightened, his jaw clenching in anger. He couldn't stand hearing it, especially not from her. "Okay? That is neither here nor there," he snapped, immediately brushing her words aside, shaking his head in frustration. He was done with the conversation, or so he thought. He wanted to put the walls back up, to shield himself from the rawness of the situation.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, the sarcasm in her expression all too clear. "Okay, well, here we are, Matt," she said, her voice dripping with frustration and mockery. "What do you wanna do? How do you wanna handle it, huh? Do you wanna fight for us, or do you wanna bail?"

She pointed toward the door, her hand shaking slightly with the intensity of the moment, as if to punctuate her question. Her voice rose in frustration, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. She paused, studying him as the weight of his silence seemed to hang in the air. But as she watched him, something softened in her gaze. She saw the vulnerable look in his eyes—the quiet uncertainty he wore so well. And despite the storm of emotions she felt, her heart ached for him.

With a heavy sigh, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to raise my voice,” she said quietly, the sharpness gone from her tone, replaced by something more tender. The fight was still there, but beneath it, there was love. She stepped forward, her hands trembling as she reached for him.

Y/N placed her hands gently in his, her touch soft and warm. She needed him to hear her, needed him to understand. “Listen to me,” she said, her voice steady now, but filled with a quiet urgency. “I want you, Matt. In all your sweet, yet rugged, devilish glory,” she said with a small, affectionate smile, even as her heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid. “I want to be here when your nights get rough, and I want to be the first thing you feel in the morning.”

She cupped his cheeks, her fingers soft against his skin as she looked into his eyes and feeling the intensity that made his breath catch in his throat. Her gaze softened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She sniffled, her voice trembling. "Look, you think your crazy life, your past, everything that’s happened to you, is going to scare me away or something… but that’s not true. You’re so wrong."

Her chest tightened, her heart aching at the sight of him—of the man who had always been so afraid of being too much, so afraid of dragging others down with him. “Because there’s nothing out there, nothing in here, that scares me as much as the thought of losing you.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper now, but the weight of her words struck him with the force of a wrecking ball. "Trust me when I say… people like you and me, we don’t get the chance to love like this, Matt. I stay. I don’t run. Because I love you."

The confession hit him like a punch to the gut. She had said it. She had finally said it, and her words hung in the air between them like a lifeline. She had chosen him, despite everything. Despite his fear, his past, the mess he carried around with him.

Y/N’s voice was soft, tender now, as she spoke again, the love in her tone so raw it made his heart ache. “I love you so much that all I can ever think about is you. There’s no version of my life that doesn’t have you in it.” Her hands tightened around his, pulling him closer, even as she sniffled again, the tears starting to break free from her eyes. “So I’ll stay right here. You can push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait for you.”

Matt’s breath caught in his throat as he processed her words, the weight of her confession crashing over him. She was here. She was choosing to stay, despite the chaos, despite everything. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said something so raw, so real to him.

But even now, he found it hard to believe. He was so used to people leaving, to pushing others away before they could hurt him. The idea that she wouldn’t walk away, that she wanted him, despite his flaws and his broken pieces—it was a foreign concept.

He shook his head, as if trying to clear the fog in his mind, but the truth was, he was terrified. Terrified of letting her in, terrified of what would happen if he let himself truly believe that someone could love him—want him—after everything.

"I..." His voice cracked as he tried to speak, but words failed him. He reached up, touching her hands, still holding him so gently, and his gaze softened as he aimlessly searched where he assumed her face was in wonder, listening to her heart for any sign of doubt. But there was none. There was only love. A kind of love he had never known, never imagined he deserved.

Matt stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest as Y/N’s confession lingered in the air between them. The weight of her words was suffocating, like a tidal wave crashing over him. He had never expected this moment to come, and now that it had, he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Her love for him, so pure and raw, left him paralyzed, caught between the fear of being loved and the fear of losing her.

His mind raced, his emotions a tangled mess. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. His fears—his insecurities—gripped him like chains. Could he really let her in? Could he really let someone love him after everything he had done, everything he had become? And if he did, what would that mean for her? For them?

Y/N noticed the struggle in his sightless eyes, the way he seemed to shrink in on himself, and her heart sank. She had poured herself out to him—had told him, for the first time, how much he meant to her—and now, he couldn’t even return the sentiment. She frowned softly, her own pain growing as she took a small step back, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Matt?” She searched his face, looking for something, anything, that would tell her that he felt the same. “Did you hear me?” she repeated, the desperation creeping into her voice. “Say something. Please? Matt?”

The silence between them stretched on, thick with the unspoken. Matt’s brow furrowed, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to find the words that felt right. But there was nothing—nothing that could explain the tangled mess of emotions inside him. He opened his mouth, but only half-formed words came out.

“I—uh—I can’t do this right now,” he finally said, his voice shaky with regret. “There’s a lot going on, and I—I can’t—” His words faltered, a deep ache filling his chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same way. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her. But the weight of his dual life—the mask he wore, the life he led as Daredevil—was so heavy, and he wasn’t sure how to balance it with what Y/N was offering him. The fear of losing her, of not being enough, of the danger he brought to everyone around him—it all swirled in his mind.

Y/N’s heart dropped at his words. The dread that washed over her was instantaneous, a cold, sharp wave that made her feel small and foolish. She had laid herself bare, had trusted him with a part of herself she didn’t give to anyone else, and now—now he was pulling away.

"Oh," she whispered, the word barely escaping her lips as the weight of disappointment settled into her chest. A hollow ache took root there. She had given him everything she had, all her love, all her hope—and he couldn’t even say it back. The look in his eyes was enough to confirm the one thing she’d feared most: he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t willing to let her in.

Her hands instinctively pulled away from his, the absence of his touch like an icy wind. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see the regret in his eyes. Instead, she looked away, her heart breaking with every passing second. She felt so stupid for believing, for thinking that maybe this time, with him, things could be different. That maybe, just maybe, he could love her back.

“I don’t—” Matt began again, but the words felt too heavy to say. He sighed deeply, his own heart aching as he heard the stutter in her heartbeat. He didn’t want to hurt her; glad he couldn't see that look of brokenness in her eyes. But he knew he had to do this—he had to finish what he started with Elektra, had to be Daredevil first. There was too much at stake. He was torn between the man he wanted to be for her and the one he had to be for the city.

“I have to go,” he said reluctantly, his voice low and filled with regret. His eyes softened for a moment, the weight of the moment heavy in the space between them. “I need to finish something. I need to... do what I have to do. I’ll come back, okay?”

The words sounded hollow to Y/N, and she felt her throat close up as the tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him now, not like this. Not when he was so distant, so unsure. Her voice cracked as she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Okay.”

It was the only thing she could say, the only thing she had left. Her heart was in pieces, each one slipping further away from him with every word he spoke. She wouldn’t fight him. She couldn’t fight him. Not now. Not when he was already running.

She didn’t look up as he left, didn’t want him to sense the tears that slipped down her cheeks, the raw pain she could no longer hide. All she wanted was for him to stay, to choose her, but the cold reality was that she didn’t know if he ever would.

Matt hesitated at the door, his hand on the handle, but the moment lingered for just a second longer. He tilted his head, ear faced to her direction, his face a mix of regret and guilt, but he didn’t say anything more. He couldn’t.

And with that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing in the quiet apartment, her heart aching with the realisation that love—real love—might not be enough to bridge the chasm between them.

The End.

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reidsaurora · 1 year ago

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okay but consider

Spencer post prison needing his routine to be even more specific because he had such a rigid schedule while inside, like he always had lunch at the same time everyday, so you and spencer are like working a case and lunch starts to approach but everyone is kinda in the throws of research and spencer is clearly not doing so well

so you pull spencer aside and are like "spence whats wrong?" and he explains hes uncomfy cuz of wanting lunch at a specific time, so you talk to emily and the two of you take your lunch together, and it becomes kind of like a little routine for the two of you to take your lunches together

wrote a lil blurb about this because you, my love, deserved a lil blurb. hope ur having a lovely day!! 🫶🏻🧡

pov: Spencer is having a hard time adjusting to life outside of prison. luckily, he has you to make it better ♡

warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader, angst to fluff sorta, lots of talk about spencer's time in prison, descriptions of food, lots of crying, 0.9K words, not beta read!

Spencer looked up from his Tupperware container, curious eyes meeting yours. "What are you doing?" he asked, brows pinched together in confusion.

"Well," you started, sitting down across from him, "I wanted to have lunch with you. If that's okay."

He nodded slowly, setting his fork down and giving you his full attention. "Why?"

You let out a soft laugh as you began unpacking your lunchbag. "You're always sitting alone," you shrugged. "Figured I'd change that."

A tinge flooded the brunette man's cheeks. He looked away from you—though, he wasn't really looking directly at you in the first place—and focused his attention back on the Tupperware, poking around at his taco salad. He sent an understanding nod your way, as if unsure what to say next. You knew from experience that Spencer wasn't the most conversational person, having struggled with social cues, so you decided it was for the better to eat in peaceful silence.

The room remained comfortably quiet, a small space of availability staying open just in case Spencer had felt exceptionally talkative that day. You caught him occasionally glancing at you, like he'd wanted to close the small space you'd left open, but stayed silent anyway, wanting to finish his salad as quickly as humanly possible.

Finally, you decided to bite the bullet, so to speak, and crack the silence first. "Spencer, you know you can talk to us, right?"

He nodded, poking around at the ground beef that was left at the bottom of his bowl.

"I know things have probably been hard since…" your voice trailed off. Since what? Since prison? Since being locked in a cage for months? Since being tortured for days on end, probably?

"You can say the word, Y/N. It's not like it'll kill us to talk about," he grumbled, nearly under his breath. His eyes remained on the Tupperware, his cheeks heated as he continued to avoid your gaze.

"Spencer, I know it probably felt like you were alone in there," you started, your heart heavy as you thought about those agonizingly long three months he was stuck in that prison, "but I can assure you that you're not alone now. We're here for you. I'm here for you, Spence."

Finally, for what felt like the first time since he'd been locked up, his honey tinted eyes met yours, tears forming in them but not quite at the point of slipping down his cheeks. "I know, it's just… it's stupid."

"What's stupid?" you questioned, slightly hurt that he assumed you'd find whatever was bugging him ridiculous.

"The reason I keep leaving to eat lunch by myself. You guys are going to think it's stupid."

You weren't sure why you did it. You knew that Spencer wasn't a huge fan of physical touch, and it wasn't your place to do it anyway. Still, your hand moved across the table, your palm wrapping around Spencer's wrist, your delicate fingers seeming small in comparison to his giant hand. "Tell me. Please. I can't fix the problem if I don't know what's wrong, Spencer."

He looked down again, where your skin touched his, but didn't make any efforts to move. "I used to eat lunch every day at the same time by myself. Every day, at 12:07 p.m., I would sit alone at this table in the corner of the lunchroom. I made sure I was facing the door and facing everyone that came in, because I was getting so tired of having to watch my back every second that I was awake."

You placed your fork down before moving to sit down on Spencer's side of the picnic-style table, wrapping your arm around him. You knew it was ridiculous, putting your hands on him so many times in such a short span of time, but you couldn't really bring yourself to care. Your palm splayed across his spine, rubbing soft circles as he fell against your frame. Tears fell down his cheeks and onto your shirt, broken breaths and sobs escaping his lips.

"You're never gonna go back to that place. Not if I'm around to stop it," you reassured him, holding him ever so close. "You will never have to live like that ever again. I promise."

His chest rose and fell in quick movements as his tears picked up. "I'm so scared, Y/N. I'm scared of going back. I'm scared of never being my old self again. I'm just… terrified."

You held him like that until his tears had slowed, and when they picked back up a second time, you just kept on holding him. Every tear he hadn't cried in prison had surely made its way to the surface, but neither of you cared. Even when you knew it was much past when you should've gone back to work. Even when five minutes turned into ten, and when ten minutes turned into twenty, and so on.

Spencer's dark eyes met yours, his cheeks still damp with the leftover tears that hadn't quite dried yet. "Thank you."

You gave him a gentle smile, the back of your hand reaching up to wipe your own cheeks where you'd cried for him. "Always, Spence."

"Do you think…" he started to ask, gaze breaking yet again.

Your brows furrowed as you wondered what he wanted to ask. Your stomach flipped at all the possibilities. "Yeah?"

"Do you think we could start doing this every day?" he finally asked. "Just until I start to feel safe again."

You didn't even have to consider your answer. "I think that would be excellent."

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