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emomattagenda · 29 days

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c’mere, dressed in black now…

Matt Sturniolo x fem reader smut, inspired by “So It Goes…” by Taylor Swift, for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writing challenge!

contains: semi-public sex, p in v, oral (female receiving), softdom!matt, unprotected sex (be safe/assume reader is on the pill), praise, a tinyyy bit of degradation, use of Y/N, alcohol mention

summary: Matt wears all black to a party and Y/N is too eager to wait until they’re home. very simple and not a lot of plot but i just thought it was a hot idea!

note: this is my first time posting smut online like, ever. kinda nervous about it but seeing the writing challenge prompts inspired me <3

song:

reader pov

“see you in the dark…”

When my eyes land on him, my breathing hitches almost immediately. I’m at my friend Tara’s party, and my boyfriend Matt and his brothers were invited too. I arrived about 30 minutes ago and already started having fun, but Matt just walked through the door. I see Nick and Chris go off on their own, and I see Matt scanning the crowd of people before his eyes land on me. He smiles and starts making his way over to me.

“Hey, pretty girl.” He says in my ear where I can hear him over the music. I try to ignore what I’m feeling for now, trying not to focus on his outfit, his rings, the way his hand wrapped around my waist when he greeted me.

“Hey, I was wondering when you guys were gonna get here.” I respond playfully, taking a sip of my drink.

“Fashionably late?” He reasons, making me laugh. He kisses my forehead and we start to talk and hang out but Tara runs up to me.

“Y/N! Come dance with me!” She encourages. I look between her and Matt, conflicted for a brief moment before she speaks again.

“C’mon, you see Matt like every day, this is a party! You both need to have fun!” She says.

“Go have fun, babe. I’ll…mingle or something.” I raise my eyebrow at him, but give in to Tara. It’s probably not good for me to be so close to Matt anyway if I want to be able to control myself. Tara squeals in excitement and grabs my hand, leading me to where people are dancing. But even as I begin to dance and have fun, I catch myself looking for Matt, stealing glances and admiring him in my head.

“you make everyone disappear and…”

I catch myself staring at him multiple times as I dance. Right now he’s across the room talking with Jake and Chris.

“back against the wall…

tripping, tripping when you’re gone”

The way he’s casually leaned against the wall, the way his clothes fit him, the way his hand grasps the cup he’s holding. Everything is driving me insane and I almost feel embarrassed at my lack of self-control, but it just took me completely off guard. I’m hardly paying attention to my surroundings anymore, but thankfully the people around me are having too much fun to notice anything off about me. I lock eyes with Matt across the room and tell Tara I need to go get another drink. Instead I find myself making my way over to Matt, who is alone again now, still leaning against the wall.

“but when you get me alone, it’s so simple

‘cause baby, i know what you know

we can feel it…”

“Missing me already?” Matt asks with a grin, and it just makes things harder.

“You have no idea.” Matt raises an eyebrow at my response.

“Oh yeah? What do you mean by that?” I sigh and pull him down slightly so I can speak closer to his ear.

“I mean that ever since you walked through the door, I’ve wanted you so bad I can’t stand it.” I admit. Matt looks at me a little surprised at my boldness and smirks.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“You just look so fucking good tonight. I mean, you always look good, but…something about you in all black just really drives me crazy.” Matt lets out a quiet laugh.

“Well, when we get home, you can have me, baby. I promise.” And I don’t know if it’s the alcohol giving me a little more courage, or if I’m really just that desperate, but I shake my head and pull him even closer by his chain.

“I don’t think I wanna wait…” I say, looking up and meeting his eyes. The look he gives me goes straight to my core and for a moment I’m worried that he’ll make me wait just to tease me, but he takes my hand and before I know it we’re sneaking off to a bathroom and I’m pressed up against the back of the door, immediately locked in a heated, sloppy kiss, my hands tangling in Matt’s hair. I break the kiss a few times to kiss his jawline, leaving my lipstick behind in any spot I kiss.

“and all the pieces fall right into place…

getting caught up in a moment, lipstick on your face…

so it goes…”

Matt connects our lips again and I moan into the kiss as his hands explore my body, trailing down my sides, gripping my hips. I feel one of his hands reach under my dress and gently touch over my panties and I whimper, growing more desperate for him.

“Please…” I whisper. He chuckles, kissing me again before responding.

“So eager for me, baby…couldn’t even wait to go home…you’re so needy…”

“you know i’m not a bad girl but i do bad things with you…

so it goes…”

Before I say anything else Matt lifts me up and places me on the sink countertop, trailing kisses down my neck as he pushes my dress up and teases my clit through my panties.

“Matt, c’mon, no teasing…” I whisper.

“Aww, why not?” He asks with a fake pout, his tone clearly mocking me.

“We can’t be in here all night…other people will need this bathroom eventually and our friends will wonder where we are…”

“You do have a point. Wouldn’t want anyone to know what an eager little slut you are.” He says. I whimper at his words as he pulls off my panties and kneels down in front of the sink. I feel his tongue between my folds and I have to hold my hand over my mouth to keep quiet, the other hand holding onto Matt’s hair. He looks up at me, his hair slightly falling into his eyes as his lips wrap around my clit, and his expression alone is almost enough to make me cum on the spot. My grip on his hair tightens and my legs wrap around his head, holding him as close as possible as he sucks on my bundle of nerves.

“i make all your gray days clear and

wear you like a necklace…”

He brings his hand up and pushes two fingers into me, curling them upwards in a way that makes me see stars. The combination of his mouth and his fingers is overwhelming and soon enough I can’t hold back anymore. I bite my hand, holding back my noises as I cum, my thighs trembling and my back arching as I struggle to support myself on the counter.

He raises up, licking his fingers clean and leaning in closer to me.

“You look so pretty when you cum…gonna look even prettier taking my cock.” He whispers, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down enough to let his erection spring free.

“c’mere, dressed in black now…

so, so, so it goes…”

He lines his dick up with my entrance and slides in with ease. I start to almost let a moan slip but Matt covers my mouth with his hand.

“Shhh, gotta be quiet for me, princess. You’re taking me so well…” He bites his lip in an attempt to muffle his own noises as he continues fucking me. He picks up his pace and he hits my g-spot, making my eyes roll back as I desperately reach for anything to ground myself, my hands finding their way to his back, my nails digging in through his tshirt.

“scratches down your back now…

so, so, so it goes…”

“God, it feels so good when you clench around me, you gonna cum again for me?” Matt whispers and I nod eagerly. Matt uses his free hand to rub circles on my clit as he fucks me. I feel my second orgasm wash over me, my whole body trembling, crying out into his hand that’s still covering my mouth.

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s my girl, you look so fucking pretty when you’re cumming on my cock, gonna fill you up…” He whispers almost incoherently as his hips stutter. He leans into me, burying his face in my neck to muffle his moans as he cums inside me. We both whimper as he pulls out, his load dripping out of my entrance.

“I’ll never get tired of watching that…” He says breathlessly and we both giggle. He cleans himself up and helps me clean up, helping me put my panties back on and fixing my dress before lifting me into his arms off the sink, kissing my forehead.

“You ready to get back out there?” He asks. I smile up at him.

“We actually probably will have to go home soon, I’m way too fucked out to party now.” We both laugh quietly again.

“Alright, I’ll tell Nick and Chris you wanted to leave. I can come back and get them later or they can get an Uber. I’ll meet you at the car?” He starts to set me down on my feet but I hold onto him for support.

“Ah, you might wanna help me to the car. I don’t think I can walk very well right now.” My face warms up. Matt grins and kisses my cheek.

“Anything for you, princess.”

“you did a number on me

but honestly, baby, who’s counting?”

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #use of y/n #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets x reader #writing challenge #Spotify

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lihhelsing · 5 months

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“Can I ask you a question?”

Stiles tried to keep a neutral face but the annoyance blooming on Derek’s expression was enough to make him pop a grin.

“I hate you,” Derek said even though he didn’t mean it. Or at least Stiles hoped he didn’t mean it otherwise the fact that they were dating for almost a year now would be very weird.

“But can I?”

Derek huffed, “yes.”

“Do you think I’m cute?”

Derek rolled his eyes and walked away before Stiles could stop him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

There was no smiling this time. No mischievous laughter alongside the question. The question so he could ask a question. The infinite loop of everything that scared Stiles.

Derek wouldn’t meet his eyes. Stiles knew why. Knew Derek’s girlfriend was close by, standing by the cheese table chatting with a friend as Stiles watched his heart beat outside of his body in the shape of a grumpy man.

Stiles didn’t mean to bump into Derek like that. He had no idea Derek and whatshername would be there at the party. But looking back at it, he should’ve known. He should’ve felt the dread filling up his body as he made his way into the party hearing the telltale laugh of the man whose heart he’d broken.

“Yes,” Derek said, eyes glued on the floor.

“Are you happy?”

Derek walked away, the silence of Stiles’ unanswered question almost too much to bear.

“Can I-“

“Shut up,” Derek was looking ahead, hands wrapped around Stiles’ waist as if it was nothing.

“But Derek I-“

“You’re drunk so you should keep your mouth shut.”

Stiles had never in his life kept his mouth shut. Asking permission to ask a question, any question, was just an excuse to talk even more. To see the false annoyance on Derek’s face and know it was nothing more than pure affection. At least it was.

“I still have questions,” Stiles huffed. Maybe he really was drunk.

“Of course you do.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Of course I can’t,” Derek replied, sounding more resigned than annoyed.

Derek stopped moving and he propped Stiles’ body against a wall. The party was still in full swing outside this dark room and Stiles was feeling brave, especially with Derek’s hands around him.

“Do you love her?”

Derek didn’t reply but it was like Stiles could feel him rolling his eyes.

“Stiles…”

“Derek.”

Derek sighed. “The answer is not what you think it is.”

Stiles frowned, confused.

“Do you still wanna be with her?”

“Fuck me.”

Stiles felt Derek’s grip tightening around his waist. Felt Derek take an impossible step closer until his chest was pressed against his.

“Derek, can I-“

“Just ask the right question, Stiles.”

Stiles’ head was spinning. He was definitely drunk and he didn’t even know there was a right question to be asked. He was just being annoying. Just trying to get Derek’s attention away from that girl and back to him. He had been scared, back then. Of how intense their relationship was. Of how his silly high school crush had become the man of his dreams right before his eyes. Of how everyone was always saying Derek and Stiles were a bad idea up until the moment Derek and Stiles started to seem like a good idea. A perfect one.

Stiles had been scared of how serious everything felt all of a sudden.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Stiles wasn’t sure why that was the question that popped into his head. He wasn’t sure he was the right one and for a second he thought he was too drunk for this. He felt Derek’s hands leaving his waist and thought that was it. He was done for.

But then Derek’s hands were cupping his face instead and Derek was close. Too close.

“What do you think?” Derek asked.

“Thought I was the one asking questions,” Stiles replied, delighted to see the roll of Derek’s eyes. That meant Derek had come back from his indifference to the affectionate annoyance.

“She’s my cousin, Stiles.”

Stiles’ world tilted. Then went back to its rightful place.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Will you kiss me, then?”

Derek huffed but he was smiling. He was pleased. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Stiles’. It was soft and chaste but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity everywhere on his body. Stiles let his hands wrap around Derek so he could pull him close.

There were still too many questions he wanted to ask, but for now, he would keep his mouth busy with what really mattered.

Written for the Spotify Wrapped challenge with the song Question...? by Taylor Swift for @bleedingoptimism (ily)

You can submit yours too!

#sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek fic #minific #spotify wrapped challenge #writing challenge

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hardlyinteresting · 2 months

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Sympathy For The Devil

Day Four of the #MarchHotchness event. Find the other days HERE Thank you to @hotchfiles for creating this event 💕

As always Request here! | Masterlist

Warnings: mention of damnation, mention canon typical violence, misplaced guilt, allusions to childhood abuse, mention of childhood injury

"But who prays for Satan? Who in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most" Mark Twain

He's ill-deserving of the affection you show him. Every day you wake up and go to sleep loving him. He struggles to fathom the odds; occasionally entertaining the possibility that this is just some kind of dream state. Surely it is nothing more than a vivid vagary.

Tonight despite his best efforts to be silent as he puts his bags down his go bag, his puttering around the room wakes you up. You call to him from where you lay, asking him to come to bed. Lately, you've grown wise to his tendency to force insomnia after a bad case. You won't tolerate it, not when he should be sleeping next to you.

Your touch alone could heal him. Showered and changed, he settles into bed beside you. Your thumb traces a cut on his jawline, the action is a silent question.

“The unsub got a good punch in,” he explains.

He doesn't tell you that his brawl with the man was all for nothing. He'd been unable to subdue him, and moments later Morgan took the man out with a shot to the chest.

In the shower he had spent more than a reasonable amount of time scrubbing his hands and face to rid himself of blood splatter he had wiped away hours earlier. He has the life of another on his hands. He was a bad man, sure, but a fellow human being nonetheless.

Ending a life no matter how evil doesn't sit right with him. One of the most difficult and least considered parts of his job.

He was once told he was wicked. He was hot-headed, stubborn, and insubordinate. His school teacher had rapped his knuckles as punishment for his behaviour. His fingers stayed bruised for more than a week; hands stained and marked by his damned soul.

If he clenches his fists now, he can still feel the sting of split skin the same way he feels that familiar simmering rage is boiling just beneath the surface. He keeps his anger in check and the devil on his shoulder.

He wonders how much really separates him from the killer he hunts. He steps into their shoes to find them-- feigns empathy to talk them down. He's taken more than one life in his career. And yet, he comes home at the end of it all to lay beside you; to hold his son.

“You are not the devil you think you are, Aaron,” your voice is only a whisper, but it cuts through the layers of his thoughts.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch x reader #criminal minds fic #marchhotchness #writing prompt #writing challenge #prompt challenge #Spotify

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

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'til kingdom come - tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

the evolution of your relationship with peter parker.

a/n: my entry for the April TFC Writing Challenge! it was for a fic based on a song, (til kingdom come by coldplay - off the soundtrack!) I happened to watch The Amazing Spider-Man and No Way Home in the same weekend, and well, here we are. enjoy! 🤍 (just for the record - this would be no way home era tasm!peter parker, so at least a 5-6 years older than at the end of tasm 2!)

word count: 4.4k

warnings: mentions of car accidents, hospital stays, broken bones, fluff, not completely explicit but still explicit smut, this was INCREDIBLY self-indulgent and I regret nothing

✨@friskito-library for updates on new works!✨

You’re used to him disappearing, at this point.

To waking in the middle of the night to an empty half of the bed, the pillow still warm, the only sign that he was here at all your scattered clothes on the ground, the ghost of a kiss on your mouth, and the satisfied hum in your bloodstream. It’s routine, to a degree, and has you burying your face in his pillow, chasing whatever remnants you can until he comes back.

And he always comes back.

It started as some kind of strange, electric current that ran beneath your skin when this doe-eyed scrap of a man paused in the doorway of your hospital room. He heard you crying, walked in, concern in that chocolate-coloured gaze and asked you if you were alright. Given the circumstance, your leg casted six ways to Sunday and a painful crick in your neck, you blubbered out a no, but then he introduced himself - “Peter Parker, I’m…I’m Peter.” - as he handed you a tissue, and then all of a sudden he was sinking into the chair at your bedside, distracting you from the pain.

“You don’t even know me,” you protested, shaking your head.

He’d just lifted a shoulder, dragging the chair a little closer. He handed you another tissue, asked if you wanted some water. “If you told me your name, then I would.” His grin was infectious. “Besides, when I heard you crying, I couldn’t just keep walking.”

You talked for hours. Until the nurse came in and declared visiting hours over, your evening round of pain meds in your hand. Peter hovered as she pushed the syringe into your IV, and your vision swirled at the edges. Ah, morphine. “Say your goodbyes,” the nurse prompted, giving him a pointed glare. “Boyfriend can come back in the morning.”

“He’s not my…” you trailed off, the meds kicking in fast, making your words slur. Your hand flopped off the edge of the bed, and Peter could resist the urge to squeeze his fingers around yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he grinned, and you were out cold by the time he reached the door to your room.

You saw him the next day. And the next day. The day after that, and the day after that. He became a permanent fixture in the chair at your bedside, distracting you with anecdotes and cheesy jokes while your leg healed. He never showed up at the same time each day, but learned the visiting hours window quickly, and was good with his timing, always showing up within it. Your nurse still had to kick him out when he showed up later in the day, your visits often trailing well past the end of visiting hours, but she let him stay longer more than once.

He was there the day they discharged you, and helped you into the taxi to take you back to your apartment. He was patient, helping you up the steps and into the elevator, carrying your bags. At that point, you knew each other supremely well, and there was something so comforting about being around Peter, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“You hungry?” he asked, setting you up on your couch, propping your leg up the way the nurse had instructed. “I’m no chef, but I make a mean boxed mac and cheese.”

“Everything in my fridge has probably gone bad,” you pouted, wincing as you adjusted slightly. “It’s been weeks since I’ve been home.”

“Shit. Right.”

“Pizza?”

He grinned, nodding in agreement. “Pizza.”

And so you spent the day together on your couch, watching old movies and eating pizza. Peter made sure you had water close by, doled out the meds the hospital had given you, fluffed your pillows.

You forgot about the pain, and it wasn’t the drugs.

And before long, you were half asleep, as you were most nights when he visited you in the hospital. Except now, your head lolled on his shoulder, his t-shirt covered chest rising and falling beneath your hand. “I should go,” he mumbled into your hair. “Let you get some rest.”

“I can sleep here,” you mumbled back. “You can take my bed, if you want. You don’t have to go.” You hummed, your voice drenched with sleep, and then you were out like a light.

You woke some time later in your bed, your leg propped up on pillows, blankets pulled to your chin. There was a note on your nightstand, scrawled in a hasty hand.

Couldn’t leave you on the couch. Quite the first date, if you ask me. Hope you slept well - Peter x

Your eyes lingered on the words first date, and you tried to ignore the thump in your chest, but no matter what you did, it wouldn’t go away.

About a month later, after your cast was removed, the first few rounds of physical therapy done, and you were feeling good.

Good enough to call Peter out.

You’d finally gone back to work, and perched at your desk, staring out the window on your lunch break, you dialed his number. You’d seen each other a few times since you’d been discharged, the odd cup of coffee when you were both free. But the note he’d left at your bedside still lingered in the back of your mind. You needed to know.

“Hello?” he answered with a grunt, and it sounded windy as hell wherever he was. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, spine prickling at the concern in his voice. “Everything’s fine, I’m just…”

“You’re what?” he questioned, almost heaving a breath on the other line.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He grunted, and there was a sound like he almost dropped the phone. “You’re what?”

“You called it a first date,” you spewed out, the words tumbling out of your mouth. “The day I came home from the hospital, when you stayed with me.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess I did.” You could almost see the blush in his cheeks. “Is that okay with you?”

“It is,” you said slowly, ignoring the whip of wind on his end of the line. “But you realize that calling it a first date implies that there’s gonna be a second date.”

“Does it?”

“It does.”

“Then how about I pick you up at seven?”

“I wasn’t gonna do this,” you breathed out against his mouth. His hands - god, his hands - were on your hips, pulling you against him while his lips ghosted over yours. He’d spent the elevator ride mapping out the curve of your jaw, making your pulse jump beneath your skin as he roamed your neck. “I was gonna make you wait, I was gonna-”

“Shut up,” he mumbled back, and his hands jumped from your hips to your mouth, pulling you more firmly against him, his lips claiming yours. “Fuck, you’re pretty.”

He’d knocked on your door at almost half past seven, and as you yanked the door open, some chastising comment about him being late, he’d pushed a semi-crushed bouquet of flowers into your hands, leaning forward and pecking your cheek as he murmured, “You look nice.” And the comment died on your tongue.

Dinner was great. The conversation passed between you as easily as ever. You talked about work; your journalism gig was busy as ever, and when you told him you had Spider-Man to thank for your latest front page article. “Your pictures worked perfectly,” you said over the rim of your wine glass, not missing the way his ears turned red. “It was the perfect cover shot.”

“I’m glad.”

A few hours of conversation, a brief tussle over who would pay the bill - Peter won, claiming that it was your article that put his photo on the cover, so he owed you one - and you were walking back to your apartment. You had to stop a few times, rubbing at a rogue pain in your leg, and after the second time, Peter tugged on your hand until you were behind him, then gestured for you to hop up.

“Are you insane? Peter, I’m not light, you can’t-”

“I carried you to bed on our first date,” he quipped, dropping his hands and turning around. He watched the puzzle pieces fit together in your expression, the details sussing themselves out. It formed a little dip between your brows, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and smoothing his thumb over it.

“You did, didn’t y-”

And then he kissed you. Right there on the street, lamplight pouring over the both of you, the slight pain in your leg forgotten.

You were speechless when he pulled back, and a moment later, you were on his back, the pair of you striding towards your apartment.

He’d kissed you again in the lobby as he set you back on your feet. Again as you waited for the elevator. When it was blessedly empty, he crowded you into the corner and pushed his face into your neck, teeth scraping your pulse. When your breath hitched, he did it again. Again and again and again.

Then, inside your apartment, he pushed you against the wall, quieting your words, drinking them down with his hands on your face. Your blood thumped in your ears, heat flaring between your legs as he pushed his tongue between your teeth.

Fuck waiting.

He was careful. Gentle, even, as he snaked his hands back down your body, glancing around the curve of your ass before he was gripping behind your knees, lifting you up and against him. You squeaked at his strength, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you down the hall to your bedroom. You undressed each other slowly, lips never far apart as clothes scattered across the floor.

Something like panic flared in your eyes when you saw the bruises along his ribs, the scratch at his collar, but he kissed you again, silencing your worries when he snuck his hand down your front, fingertips licking at your nerves, pulling sensations to the surface of your body you hadn’t felt in a while.

The carefulness continued, both of you bathed in the darkness, the only source of light the slit in your curtains. Peter moved differently in the dark, somehow anticipating every move you made, as you explored each other. He pulled noises from you you didn’t think yourself capable of, making you cum hard once on his tongue before he was crawling over you on the bed, the ends of his hair tickling your skin as he made his way up to your lips once more.

There was that moment of realness, that pause of trepidation that filled the space between you when you fished a condom out of your nightstand. He hissed when you moved your hand over him, following his movements, tracing his outlines.

When he pushed into you, your good leg wrapped around his hip, his hands braced around your head, his face buried in your collar, you lost what little breath you had left. He managed to find every last nerve you needed touched, and it wasn’t long before you were losing it again, your head thrown back on the pillow, fingers buried in his wayward hard.

You fell asleep shortly after, curled on your side, Peter glued to your back.

But when you woke up, he was gone.

Peter avoided you as long as he could.

He felt bad about it, obviously, the guilt tugging at his insides anytime he saw something that reminded him of you, caught a scent in the air that smelled suspiciously like your shampoo.

He hadn’t wanted to leave. Truthfully, he could have stayed there in your bed all night, even if sleep evaded him. He would have watched you for hours, committed every inch of you to memory as you slept, maybe woke you up once or twice with his mouth or his hands or a combination, just to hear those sweet noises of yours again.

But then his senses had prickled, the scream of alarms outside reaching his ears. You stayed soundly asleep, your brow furrowing again. Despite everything in him yelling that he needed to go, Peter reached out, swiped his thumb across the dip in your skin yet again. It hadn’t disappeared when he’d kissed you hours ago, his movements taking you slightly by surprise, but then, your lashes fluttering with dreams, it smoothed out beneath his touch, and he smiled.

He didn’t want to leave.

He was falling for y-

The thought cut short. He shook his head, snuck out the fire escape and climbed to the roof of the building, pulling his gear out of his bag and disappearing across the city, his senses chasing the alarms.

The thought, and the feeling that accompanied it, wouldn’t leave him alone. Even when he went back home, Aunt May chiding him to eat him something when he appeared in the kitchen the next morning, his mind wandered back to you. You would have woken up alone, the only evidence he was there in the first place being the condom in your garbage can.

And the sucked bruise he’d left on the inside of your thigh.

He was a mix of longing and guilt, heat and despair. His body begged him to go back to you, to apologize as many times as it took for you to let him kiss you again. But his mind said no, told him it was too soon, that his past was too fresh.

But could you really put a timeline on grief?

He’d never forget Gwen, never forget the way he’d held her that night, the way life had so cruelly ripped her away from him. She was a part of him, forever. No amount of time would change that.

Aunt May’s voice echoed in his mind. What she’d said when he found her packing Uncle Ben’s things into boxes.

You’re throwing his stuff away?

No, god, no. I couldn’t do that. It’s part of me. I’m just finding a better place for it. I’m gonna take one last look, and I’m gonna put it where it belongs.

For years now, he wasn’t sure what to do with everything he felt for Gwen. It still loomed around his heart, clutching at him like a vise, sneaking up on him at the most inopportune of moments. The love he’d had for her, it had nowhere else to go, so it sat in him, brewing like oversteeped tea, making him feel sour for what he’d lost.

Finding a better place for it.

Put it where it belongs.

He intended to call you that day. He was running late for an appointment, rushing through the city streets, when he collided with someone, a cup of coffee falling to the sidewalk at his feet. He narrowly avoided the hot liquid, cursing under his breath, and then he caught the scent of your shampoo, forcing himself to ignore the way it twisted his gut.

But then he took a deeper breath, and realized it wasn’t just the smell of your hair.

It was you.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, shame and guilt washing his cheeks rosy. “I’m so sorry, I’m-”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you said, rising to your feet, now-empty coffee cup in hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

He pulled you to the side, avoiding the coffee spill, dragging you into a doorway a few steps up from the sidewalk. You went willingly, but he could see the hesitation in your eyes, and he couldn’t blame you. Your eyes darted anywhere but his face, leaning back against the doorway, chewing at your lip.

“I screwed up,” he said bluntly, and that had your eyes zipping to his. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to sneak out on you, or avoid you, or any of it. I just…I’m sorry.”

Your brow lifted slowly. “You keep saying that.”

“Would you give me another chance?” he asked, the words still pouring out of him. “Please?”

Your chest lifted as you inhaled deeply. “I don’t hear from you for weeks, you come out of nowhere and spill my coffee, and you ask me for a third date?” Your tone was almost flat, but there was a quirk at the corner of your mouth you couldn’t hide.

Daringly, Peter took a step forward, crowding into your space. His hand hovered for a moment before he lifted it, curling his fingers and letting his knuckles trail down your cheek. Your eyes fluttered and he took another step.

“Yes,” he breathed, leaning down until his forehead was pressed to yours. His knuckles caressed your cheek again. “Please.”

Your next inhale was sharp and you tilted your head back, the tip of your nose moving along the curve of his. “I swear to god, Peter Parker, if you disappear on me again, I won’t-”

He was too busy kissing you to hear the end of the sentence.

Three days later, you had him in your bed again. It was an interesting evening, to say the least.

You made him wait this time. Sort of. It was your fourth date now, technically - you’d held out after the dinner he’d taken you to after your collison on th street - but the way he’d kissed you goodnight after this one had you saying fuck it to waiting yet again. There was something different about him, something less haunted in those dark eyes, something less hurried behind his movements.

Your kisses lingered in the elevator, the doorway, the hallway. You drank glasses of water in the kitchen, and Peter was distracted, his eyes catching on the drafts of your latest articles, spread out on the countertop. “No more Spider-Man?”

You lifted a shoulder. “No one’s seen him around in a while,” you answered, stepping close to him. “Plus, my favourite photographer disappeared on me.”

He cracked a smile. “Well, he won’t do that again, I’ve got it on good authority.”

Your smile echoed his. “Good.”

But then just as quickly as it had appeared, the smile faded. “Listen,” he started, his brow going hard, rubbing his hand up the back of his neck. “I promised myself I’d be honest with you, and there’s…there’s something I gotta tell you.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, tilting your head to the side as you set your glass down. “So tell me.”

He braced both hands on the sink, pressing his lips together for a long moment before his head turned in your direction. “It was me that saved you that night. The car accident, when you broke your leg.”

Your brows pulled down, instantly confused. “No, it wasn’t. Peter, we didn’t even know each other back then, it was-”

The cops had told you who it was, your nurse repeating the story with the tiniest bit of disdain. It was what had inspired your front page piece, when you finally went back to work. A thank you, of sorts. It was-

“Spider-Man,” Peter says, his jaw hard enough to cut glass. Your head is spinning. “That’s me. I’m Spider-Man.”

You started laughing. Giggling like mad, nearly bent in half. “What are you-”

Without a word, Peter stepped away from you, one hand held palm up, and jumped. The ceilings in your apartment were low, but it was still a good three feet above your head. His bare hand connected with the ceiling…

…and stuck.

He swung slightly, staring down at you, his lips still pressed together.

“You…saved me?” you murmured out, your voice dropping as he did, his feet back on your kitchen tile. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Your memories of the accident were hazy; you’d spun out, your car diving off the edge of the bridge and into the river below. You remember being filled with fear as soon as the car hit the water, but the impact knocked you out. You woke up in the hospital later on, and the cops filled you in, told you that Spider-Man had carried you into the emergency department.

Peter just nodded. His shoulder lifted. “It’s kind of what I do.”

“But then you…?” you trailed off, your brow scrunching again.

He closed the distance between you, his thumb smoothing between your brows, something of a habit of his that you were already growing used to. “Then I came to see you in the hospital. I had to. I had to make sure you were okay.”

“You…You’re Spider-Man.”

He smiled as his hand moved around the outline of your face, his thumb now riding the curve of your lower lip. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“I’m having sex with Spider-Man?”

“I thought we were dating, too.”

You pushed at his chest, curling your fingers in the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him close. “I’m having sex with Spider-Man.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, and you kissed the grin off his mouth. He moved faster than your eyes could track, grabbing you up into his arms, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.

You lay sprawled in your bed hours later, the sun long gone. Peter is stretched out, his arm tucked behind his head, while you are laid on his chest, your chin resting on your hand. You’d only stayed quiet when he’d had his mouth on yours, your questions deterred while he was busy having his fill of you, making those sweet noises echo off the walls of your bedroom. He wasn’t sated, not by a long shot, but he could see the questions on your face as you both came down, chests heaving.

“Go ahead,” he prompts you, tugging you close. “Ask me.”

He tells you everything. He fields every question, tells you as much truth as he could bear. He doesn’t hold anything back, his words spilling out faster with every question on your lips. Soon enough, you’re kissing the words out of each other’s mouths, tangling in the sheets once again.

And then you have a secret of your own to share.

“I’m in love with you.”

His heart stalls in his chest. Every feeling he’d battled over the last few months brought back to the surface. “I…” His eyes search yours, so full of emotion - so full of truth - he feels guilt crawl up his throat.

He’s told you about Gwen. You know what happened, you know the story. And you hadn’t pressed him for details, when he first brought it up. You were in the hospital still, laid out in that bed, him perched in the chair beside you. Your fingers had curled through his when he first brought it up, your eyes shining back at him. “It’s okay, Peter. I…I lost someone too. A long time ago. I get it.”

He wants to. He wants to tell you the same. He wants to admit it - to you, and to himself, finally.

But…

“I can’t,” he says, the words feeling like lead weights on his tongue. “I just-”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you reply, an echo of what you’d said when he’d first told you. “I get it, I just-”

He grabs your forearm, pulling you further up his chest, until he can bury his hand in your hair, his kiss cutting off your sentence. “Can you trust that I want to? That I want to say it, I just…need time? I’m not gonna ask you to wait for me, but if you-”

It’s your turn to cut him off, your mouth lingering on his. “I can wait, Peter. I will wait.”

And so it’s continued. More dates, more nights spent in your apartment. Walks through Central Park, dinners at Aunt May’s. May is in love with you from your very first meeting, which Peter predicted, and it’s all too easy to fall into the patterns, to become an even steadier part of each other’s lives.

Every time he has to go, his senses pulling him to another corner of the city, he sees the concern in your eyes. “Be careful,” you beg him, kissing him soundly. “Come back to me.”

“Always will,” he grins, returning the kiss, ducking out the window.

And he always does.

But now, he’s been gone for hours. You’ve been checking the news like a crazy person, scrolling on your phone, refreshing your best sources every few minutes. But nothing. You even go so far as to call the hospitals, making sure he hasn’t turned up in an emergency department somewhere. You can’t tell May; you can’t worry her like this.

Hours turn into days. You deter May’s worried calls with a white lie that Peter has food poisoning and has been sleeping it off at your place. Almost two days, and your worry is at an all time high. This is different. Something feels different, something you can’t quite put your finger on.

All you can do is wait. You told him you would.

The weird tingling from Dr. Strange’s spell fades, the brightness clouding his vision fading away, and Peter finds himself standing in your living room. A glance at the kitchen clock tells him it’s very early, and as the exhaustion of the last forty-eight hours starts to set in, already making his limbs heavy, he heads for your bedroom, stripping out of the suit as he goes.

By the time he steps through the doorway, he tosses the suit in the direction of your laundry bin. His mind is still spinning, churning with everything he’s witnessed in the last few days. He doesn’t really know how to make sense of it all, but there’s one thing he has to do.

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out and covering your shoulder with his hand, shaking gently as he pulls the blankets back with his other hand.

You grumble for a moment, your eyes cracking open, but when you see it’s him, you surge upwards, throwing your arms around his neck. “Peter!”

“Hi, baby,” he mumbles into your neck, dropping the blanket and wrapping his arm around your waist, the other finding a home in your hair. “Sorry I disappeared on you.”

“What happened?” you cry, pulling back, taking his face in your hands, your eyes instantly inspecting him. “You were gone for two whole days, I didn’t know what to-”

He kisses you hard, wrapping your hair around his knuckles. You return the affection, holding him as tightly as he’s holding you. “I wanna tell you what happened, but I don’t totally know myself? All I know is that I’m exhausted, and there’s something that I do have to tell you.”

You pull him down into bed, instantly fitting yourself against his side, pulling the blankets over you both. Puzzle pieces falling into place. Your brown furrows, and he moves his thumb over the dip. “What is it, Peter? Tell me.”

He drags his knuckles down your cheek. “I’m in love with you, too.”

THE END.

#my fics #'til kingdom come #tfc writing challenge #tfc april challenge #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker fic #tasm fic #andrew garfield peter parker #idk how else to tag this #tasm peter parker fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm peter parker smut #peter parker smut #Spotify

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charlewiss-writes · 1 year

Text

the beach is for lovers / daniel ricciardo

masterlist

day 6: tourist (part of one-word november prompts!)

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

word count: 0.8k

summary: after the disastrous year you two had (you, due to your break up and him, with how hard the season has been), nothing better than going back to home sweet home.

"why don't you go to australia with me?"

daniel fucking ricciardo was many incredible things. he was known by his amazing race craft on the track, that allowed him to be on the highest step of the podium eight times. but apart from being a talented driver, he was also fucking unpredictable. it was a phenomenal trait to have on-track, but off-track, you had learned, after a few months working with him at mclaren as his pr manager, it led to being surprised by whatever his mind came with that day.

"wait, what?"

it would have been a normal weekend, if it wasn't the last race of the season: abu dhabi. the year had been unbelievable tough for both you and daniel, and you two couldn't wait for the winter break that was approaching around the corner. nonetheless, it was for very different motives. he was sick of mclaren, the team that had stabbed behind his back, just like your boyfriend of two years had.

he repeated, like you truly hadn't listened clearly before. "come with me to australia. i heard your talk with lando saying that you didn't want to go back to your the apartment you shared with that asshole. so don't" he shrugged, like it was the most normal thing to propose. "dan, you haven't seen them since winter break. you deserve some quality time alone with all of your family together."

the whole conversation had been going on since he finished with the press conference he had been assigned to attend. so now, after trying to keep up with his fast walking back to his driver's room, you were left out of breath when you arrived at your destination. he turned to look at you, just as you had closed the door behind you. "what if I want you there?" he said, tilting his head.

—

so now you were here, at the airport, after a 14 hour trip, only because daniel fucking ricciardo asked nicely. another one of his traits, you learned late enough, was being annoying until he had what he desired: a quality that was incredibly helpful on the track, but proved to be used against you, as you now were on the home country of the australian gp that was beaming beside you.

"you'll meet michelle first. she'll take us to her house where you'll get to know the little demons i always tell you about" he continued talking about his whole family while you two made your way towards the entrance of the airport. you were far too quiet to answer to him, which he found weird instantly. "you're awfully quiet. what's up, sunshine?" he dodged your shoulder, trying to make you talk to him.

"you're sure this was a good decision?"

he laughed like you had told him the funniest joke to ever exist. "of course, sunshine. they'll love you. and you'll get to know all my friends and all the places i grew up in" dan was beyond excited about all the plans he had already made for the two of you.

—

and he executed all the plans he made with precision like clockwork. you had arrived on monday evening, and by saturday, just as he promised, you had already seen almost everything dan wanted to show you: the park where he used to go when he was a kid, the school he attended growing up, the bar where he met on fridays with his friends. there was only one place left to show you: the beach.

it was close to his house, so after a little walk you finally arrived. the sun was already setting when dan and you laid the picnic mat that you had brought, along with the cans of beer that daniel had insisted on bringing, claiming that he hadn't see you drinking before, which was a blatant lie.

"my dad always said that I shouldn't wait until it was too late to look back over history, otherwise it would be filled with nothing but regret. i think I wasn't true to his word this year". you knew the season had been tough on him, but you two didn't talk about it on the weekends, too busy with all the work being part of mclaren's media team included. seeing that he hadn't met your attentive look yet, you keep quiet, understanding that he wanted to go on with whatever he had wanted to say. "I don't know what the future holds, y/n, but I would hope it included you in it".

"I know it's too soon. I understand. I just appreciate you coming all the way here, supporting me after this year." dan looked at you now, grabbing your hand with his free one. "I would like to do the same for you" he smiled, and ended his speech with the biggest smile you had seen in him all year. "I would like that very much, i'll try to be half as annoying as you are" you told him, jokingly. he launched himself at you, tickling you until you couldn't even breathe, "please stop, i'm only joking" you almost screamed, not being able to control the laugh that erupted from your body.

thank god for australia, you thought. and thank god for daniel fucking ricciardo.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charlewiss writing challenge #one word november prompts #user charlewiss #f1 x y/n #f1 x yn #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x yn #Spotify

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e-dubbc11 · 1 year

Text

Crazy in Love

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

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Some swear words, mentions of verbal abuse, fluffy bunnies and unicorns, and some physical violence

Word Count: 5.8k-ish

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and Billy has already spoiled you rotten and made plans to take you out for a nice dinner. But a run in with an ex boyfriend stirs up some old painful memories and lands Billy in a little bit of trouble.

A/N: This is part of the February writing challenge that my lovelies over on the Thirsty for Cox server decided to do. The prompt was “Well…I did not picture spending my Valentine’s Day in jail.” I had a lot of fun writing this, it seemed like a good one. I did write a part 2 for this which hopefully will be out tomorrow, February 16. Oh, yes the title is a Beyoncé song but I used the Sofia Karlberg version for this.

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

The essence of rose saturated the apartment, the bouquets were everywhere, red ones, pink ones, yellow ones, white ones, and even purple ones.

He had told you the purple ones meant “love at first sight,” Billy Russo was such a smooth talker, the velvet tone to his voice was soft yet assertive and gave you butterflies every time. “That’s how I felt when I first saw you. At least, I think it was. I never had those feelings before…about anyone.” He had said. It was love at first sight for you too when you met him a few years ago, right around Valentine’s Day.

***************

After finally getting the call that you landed the job, your friends decided they wanted to take you out to celebrate. Dinner first, then they took you for a few drinks at a local bar close to the restaurant which is where he first laid eyes on you.

Coming in from the cold, he saw that your cheeks were flushed and your nose was red like it had been pinched by Jack Frost but your smile lit up the entire room. Billy couldn’t take his eyes off of you, he studied you carefully but quickly turned away when you would look in his direction.

You swore you could feel someone staring at you but a quick glance around the bar made you think maybe you were wrong, there wasn’t anyone looking at you…or so you thought.

You noticed him too, the charcoal gray suit, burgundy tie, but his eyes are what pulled you towards him like a magnet. They looked like endless pools of black ink. A pair of eyes you could get lost in.

And his smile, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a more perfect smile to go along with his handsome face. He was probably the most handsome man you had ever seen but completely out of your league…again, so you thought.

Just like he studied your movements, you studied his. The way his long willowy fingers wrapped around the beer bottle he was drinking from, the way he narrowed his eyes slightly as he listened intently to his friends telling a story, or when you would catch a phrase or two escape his lips. A hint of a New York accent combined with the sarcastic comments, he was a man after your own heart. It was…love at first sight.

As much as he was trying to pay attention to his friends, Billy was trying to listen in on your conversations. Mostly, he was listening to your laugh, it made him smile, watching the way you would throw your head back in a fit of laughter and not hold back.

Your whole body smiled when you laughed and he loved nothing more than to watch you wipe the tears out of your eyes when something made you laugh extra hard. Love at first sight indeed.

In between stories from his friends, he observed one of your friends had given you a small heart shaped lollipop. A “small congratulatory gift for getting that new job you wanted so much” he heard your friend say. After thanking her, you placed the lollipop in the back pocket of your jeans and forgot about it. That’s when Billy made his move.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him get up from his table and start to walk towards the bar to retrieve another drink, he thought you were even more beautiful up close. While you were talking, he had positioned himself in between you and another person at the bar, your body pulled forward slightly away from the back of the chair while talking to your friend.

You knew he was there, your cheeks suddenly felt warm and a knot had formed in your stomach. He let out a long exhale after taking the last sip of his beer, his breath traveled down the back of your neck and goosebumps erupted all over your body.

That’s when you felt it. The lollipop that you had forgotten about was being pulled from your pocket, slowly, carefully making sure he didn’t touch anything except that lollipop. With your eyes closed, you took a deep breath and turned around in your chair. The wrapper was discarded on the bar, you turned around just in time to see him place the lollipop in his mouth, and extend his hand to introduce himself.

“Billy Russo.” The tone of his voice was warm and low but full of confidence.

You swallowed hard and felt a slight tingle in your core. Just his voice alone did that to you, it sent shivers down your spine and caused your hands to shake slightly. But somehow you managed to just give him a sly smile, not letting him know you were nervous, and extend your hand to shake his.

“Y/f/n Y/l/n.” You said to him. “And that was my lollipop.”

He cracked a smile and the ice was broken.

The two of you spent the rest of the night making each other laugh, trading sarcastic remarks, staring into each other’s eyes, and Billy making any man that even looked in your direction wish they hadn’t.

You hadn’t even been out on a date with Billy Russo yet before he showed you how jealous he could get, how protective he could be, more like overprotective. It was a desire he had, to show every man close by that you were spoken for, that you were his, and to show they dare not touch what was his.

Billy told you he didn’t really “do” dancing but a slow song came on the jukebox, Crazy in Love by Sofia Karlberg, and you just needed to have his hands on you, holding onto you. Billy held you close, his hand encased over yours against his chest, while his friends and your friends had conversations all around you. Instead of his long, slender fingers being wrapped around a beer bottle, they were tightly wrapped around you and he didn’t want to let you go…ever.

'Cause I know I don't understand. Just how your love can do what no one else can. Got me lookin' so crazy right now. Your touch's got me lookin' so crazy right now

Your kiss's got me hoping you save me right now. Lookin' so crazy, your love's got me lookin'. Got me lookin' so crazy in love

You didn’t want to let him go either but when you finally did, he didn’t waste any time asking to take you out on a proper date. The following weekend happened to be Valentine’s Day but you said no to a date ON Valentine’s Day.

There was just too much pressure for THAT day so you put it off for a week, instead opting for a coffee date before the formal one. You never looked back after that, and although it had been tough going sometimes, Billy Russo was the man for you.

***************

Billy always tried to outdo himself every year for Valentine’s Day or any special occasion, really. That was why you were sitting in the middle of your shared apartment, surrounded by bouquets of beautiful roses.

You had stopped counting them after the flower delivery service brought in the tenth bouquet, it was a bit excessive but it brought a smile to your face anyway. “He really knows how to make me feel special.” You said to yourself as you picked up your phone to call him at work.

He picked up on the first ring, Billy Russo was not a patient man. “Hey there, sweet girl.”

A smile tugged at your lips at hearing his pet name for you. “Billy, they’re SO beautiful!” You exclaimed as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“I’m glad you like them, my love.” He said.

“Like them? Billy, I love them! Thank you.” You excitedly said into the phone.

Billy chuckled a little. “Well I’m just getting started, baby. You don’t think the flowers are your only present, do you?”

You looked around the apartment at all of the bouquets of roses, all of these must have cost him a small fortune. “Oh…Billy, no that’s too much. The flowers are plenty.”

“I’ll be home around 6 to pick you up for dinner, ok?” He said, completely ignoring the fact that you said you didn’t need another gift.

Billy didn’t say where he was taking you, only telling you that it was “nice.”

“Ok, handsome. I’ll see you at 6—I love you.” You said with a smile.

You could tell he was smiling on the other end. “I love you too, beautiful.” And he hung up.

Making sure you were home in plenty of time to get ready for your evening out, you had left work early and arrived home just in time for your flower delivery. Billy knew exactly what time you would be coming home, he planned this like he planned everything else.

You knew he would probably come home bearing more gifts, even though you told him it wasn’t necessary. Billy didn’t really show his softer side to many people, to everyone else he was a marine, a scout sniper, a CEO…a leader. But to you, he was sweet and charming, a doting and loving boyfriend who would do absolutely anything for you.

Always in charge, he made sure he never showed weakness, appeared defenseless or powerless. It was a strange feeling for him, that feeling of love when it’s something that he’s never experienced. “Am I doing this right?” He would ask himself. “Can she tell that I’ve never done this before?” And “I’m just protecting her.”

The urge to keep you close to him at all times was intense, it was borderline too much but he loved you and even though he couldn’t always say how he was feeling, he tried to show it. You were his weakness.

Billy could stay calm in almost any situation, he never cracked under pressure except when it came to you, he felt like it was his duty to protect and defend you anytime the universe told him he had to. Tonight would end up being one of those times.

First came the flowers, then the balloons that spelled out “I Love You” were delivered, followed by the chocolate covered strawberries. They came with a note from Billy “Enjoy them, beautiful. But don’t spoil your dinner. Love, Billy.” You could only shake your head and smile reading the note, it all felt like a fairy tale.

***************

He always made you feel so loved, although at times you had to remind him he didn’t have to try so hard. It didn’t always have to be about gifts and fancy restaurants, sometimes coffee and a doughnut says “I love you” just as much as a designer bag or a new necklace does.

The gifts were especially extravagant after a fight or one of his fits of jealousy. Billy didn’t really know how to just say “I’m sorry,” or how to admit he was jealous, possessive at times, or overprotective.

He would just shut down and leave, only to return later with a little blue box or flowers. When you would tell him you didn’t want them, he would get angry. He didn’t know what to do so it just made him frustrated with himself.

“I don’t know what you want from me, y/n!!” He had shouted.

All you had wanted was an apology, to have his arms draped around you and to say “I’m sorry, my love. I’m sorry.”

“I want you to tell me that you’re sorry, Billy! Gifts can’t tell me that you’re sorry, YOU need to tell me that! You can’t just fly off the handle every time a guy looks at me in a way you don’t like!” You told him.

His dark chocolate like eyes quickly changed from angry to sad, he didn’t know what to say, it was just so hard for him because he’s always kept everything buried deep down inside, hidden away from everyone, hidden from the world. No one had ever taught him how to love.

“It’s hard for me y/n. Do you understand how hard this is for me?! I don’t know how to do this!” With his head buried in his hands, he paused, the look of guilt had washed over him and it made your heart hurt to watch the agony he must be in because he couldn’t say exactly what he wanted to.

The silence was excruciating but he finally pulled you in close, his body felt warm, and your shoulders relaxed as he brushed his hands up and down your back, whispering over and over again “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.”

These were the times Billy needed reassurance. He needed to be told you loved him and “I’m still here, Billy. I’m not going anywhere.” But you urged him to try to communicate with his words how he was feeling, no matter how difficult it was.

“I really need you to try, Billy. Please? Can you do that for me?” You pleaded.

He brushed his knuckles over your cheek and leaned forward to kiss you. The energy behind the kiss was passionate and full of love, he loved you with everything he had, and he truly was sorry. He would try harder.

That was then, but it was getting easier for him now, especially with your help. He felt like he could do anything as long as he had you by his side, helping him to learn about what it all means, about what had eluded him for all these years…love.

***************

Always on time, Billy arrived home promptly at 6, threw his keys on the table and called out for you.

“Baby? Where are ya? Are ya ready for din—ho-ly shit.” Billy started to say as you walked out from the bedroom in your black cocktail dress. The deep V and puffed sleeves were sexy without being too much.

It was difficult to surprise him but you had managed to sneak the dress home without him seeing it before tonight.

A slight smile stretched across your face as Billy continued to stare at you, his jaw practically on the floor as you said “Welcome home, my love. What’s wrong? Is there something on my dress?” You gave him a slow turn all the way around so he could take in ALL of you, biting down on your lower lip as you teased him. You knew exactly what you were doing.

As you finished turning around, Billy was right there, his hands swiftly cupped your face and he brushed a stray hair away from your eyes. “You look—so beautiful. Maybe I should just have you for dinner.” He started to kiss up and down your neck. It turned you on.

As much as you wanted that, you said “Come on, Mr. Russo. You promised me a nice dinner, so let’s go. You can enjoy your dessert later.” You smacked him on his ass, gave him a wink, and grabbed your clutch and your coat.

Billy couldn’t keep his hands off of you, from the elevator ride down to the lobby, in the car on your way to the restaurant, and even at the bar while you waited for your table.

And now that the date was finally here, he mentioned that it took him a couple of months to get a reservation there. It was a beautiful Italian restaurant called Scarpetta on Madison Avenue.

“You didn’t have to do this, Billy. I would have been happy if you brought home Chinese food.” You said.

He kissed you on the forehead. “It’s a special night, baby. I wanted to take you some place really nice.”

A flash of heat burned through you as he smiled a slightly wicked smile at you. You weren’t sure you deserved to be spoiled like this but you let him because Billy always did what he wanted to anyway.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, princess?” He asked.

You continued to blush as the hostess led you to your corner table. “Not in the last ten minutes, baby.”

You continued walking towards your table, and even in the low warm glow of the restaurant lights, you recognized him as you sat down. The smile faded from your face and without warning, you felt a tightness in your shoulders.

Your ex—Eric was seated at a table not too far from yours. He looked the same, the woman he was with was wearing a ring, and he was too. He was married. Better her than you, that’s for sure.

Billy could tell something was bothering you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked.

“Hmmm? Oh nothing. Everything’s fine, Billy.” You lied, glancing down at the menu in front of you.

He knew you were lying, he tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at you. “Y/n, come on, what is it? What’s wrong?”

You came clean. “Ok, you see that guy across from us? Sitting with the blonde.” You turned away as Billy turned and glanced towards Eric’s table.

He rotated back towards you. “The guy with the big ears? Yeah, what about him?”

You let out a slight cackle and gently elbowed him in the ribs. “Y-yes, the guy with the big ears. Stop making me laugh like that, this is a nice place. Anyway, that’s my ex.”

You shuddered slightly, as Billy took your hand in his. “His back is towards us, my love. It’s ok, I’m here.” He had a worried look in his eyes when he noticed how nervous you were. “My god, what did he do to you?” Billy gnashed his teeth and his eyes glazed over darker than they were before glaring in the direction of Eric’s table.

You took your hand back, placed them both on Billy’s face, and brushed his beard with your thumbs. You knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with an answer of “I don’t wanna talk about it.” So you gave him an answer that was the truth but generic.

“Billy…” You paused, closed your eyes briefly and let out a long exhale. “Let’s just say he didn’t treat me very well and was—“ You were scared to say the next part out loud in fear of what Billy might do. “He was very—verbally abusive, degrading, and made me feel terrible about myself. And he…he scared me sometimes.”

Billy tightly gripped the cloth napkin in his hand, the whites on his knuckles noticeable as you looked down at his shaking hands. White, hot anger displayed all over his face, as you tried to calm him down.

“Hey, hey Billy look at me please. I don’t want to do this here, ok? I want to have a nice romantic dinner with you and then go home so you can rip this dress off and kiss every inch of my body, ok?” You had a feeling that might calm him down.

Billy let go of the napkin, his expression softened and he chuckled a little. He pulled you closer so your thigh was touching his, Billy always felt better when his body was touching yours in some way.

Without another word about it, Billy leaned closer to kiss you, forced the server to wait while he did then ordered you both a glass of red wine and the creamy polenta to start with.

Dinner conversation was a combination of funny and extra funny. Billy told you some old stories of his days in the marines, stuff that he and Frank would get up to on down time. They sounded like quite the duo and it was so nice to see Billy laugh reminiscing about the fun times he had in the marines and not worrying about your ex who was only a couple tables away.

You both traded work stories, laughed with each other like you were the only two people in that restaurant, he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and the two of you were having a really nice time. At one point during one of Billy’s stories, you let out a laugh that caught the attention of your ex.

His ears perked up like he recognized your laugh, Eric’s head swiveled in the direction of where your laugh came from and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed he was getting up and walking towards your table.

Oh shit.

Billy could see that your expression had hardened, your whole body had tensed, and you had his hand under the table in a death grip. The very sight of Eric so close to you made you feel like retching and wanting to punch him right in the face. Billy was trying to calm you down as he whispered in your ear “I’m right here, baby.” And he tenderly kissed your temple.

Eric stopped in front of your table, you and Billy were staring up at him with slight disdain written all over your faces. “Wow, y/n! It’s been awhile. I recognize that laugh anywhere.”

Sitting up straight and trying to smile, you responded. “Uh, yes it has Eric. Yes it has.” You turned towards Billy to introduce him. “Eric, this is my boyfriend Billy Russo.” Billy stood up to shake Eric’s hand, narrowed his eyes at him and squeezed his hand to the point where it probably was quite painful.

“Nice to meet you, Billy. That’s a nice suit.” He paused so he could look Billy up and down, like he was sizing him up and turned his gaze back to you. "Oh I’m married now, yeah.” He pointed to the ring on his finger. “That’s my wife, Laura over there.” Eric pointed towards his table.

You put on a fake smile. “That’s great, Eric. I’m happy for you. I’d really like to get back to my dinner now though, if you don’t mind.”

With a shocked look on his face, Eric said “Oh! Right, absolutely. My apologies, I’ll let you get back to your dinner, it was nice meeting you, Bill. And it was really nice to see you again, y/n.”

All you could manage to say was “Thank you.” And he walked back to his table.

Your entire body had seized seeing Eric again but having Billy next to you, holding your hand, made it easier for you and he helped to calm and soothe you so you could get back to enjoying your night out.

Carrying on with your dinner, you didn’t notice that Eric had gotten up to presumably use the restroom but Billy did, so he kissed you on the forehead and excused himself.

Billy wasn’t sure what he was going to do, maybe he wouldn’t even do anything but it didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared. Billy was a very good judge of character, he had a theory and wanted to test it out.

“But Billy, your food. I don’t want it to get cold.” You said.

He smiled slyly at you. “I’ll be right back, baby.” He said, and then he was gone.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly, took a sip of your wine, and continued to eat your dinner before looking straight ahead, noticing that Eric was not at his table. “Oh fuck…Billy. What are you doing?” You whispered to yourself out loud, almost choking on your wine.

Inside the restroom, Billy exited the stall and started to wash his hands, when Eric slid in beside him and started washing his hands also. He looked over at Billy. “Heyyyy, Billy Russo, right?”

“You’ve got a good memory.” Billy said sarcastically, rolling his eyes slightly.

Eric reached over with his wet hands and put one on Billy’s shoulder, drenching his white dress shirt. “Ya, know…you sure do have quite a grip there, Bill. You squeezed my hand pretty hard.” He said as he put pressure on Billy’s shoulder. “I’m glad I ran into you again. I wanted to tell you that Y/n is lookin’ reeeeeally good.”

There it is. Billy had a feeling if the opportunity presented itself, Eric would try and provoke him.

Billy was starting to get angry, it infuriated him at the very mention of your name coming from that asshole’s mouth but he tried to keep his cool. “Eric…Take your hand off me. NOW.”

Eric didn’t listen, he did have more to say, however. “I’m sure she told you alllllll about me, didn’t she?” He had a smug look on his face as he continued. “I’m sure she told you all about how mean I was to her, and yeah sure I called her names sometimes but for the most part I treated her pretty well. She just sat back and took it, I kept her in her place.”

Billy made a fist as he glared at Eric in the reflection of the mirror, he could feel his blood start to boil as Eric continued to talk about you.

“I will say, she was always a little firecracker in bed. One of the best lays I’ve ever had. That’s probably why you keep her around, am I right?” He smirked.

“No. I’m with her because I LOVE her.” Billy said curtly. His patience wearing thin.

Still, Billy kept calm even though he was shaking with rage as he tried to walk away. Eric followed him out of the men’s room, grabbed Billy’s shoulder and spun him around so they were nose to nose. “She is lookin’ really good though. What do ya say, Bill? How ‘bout you let me hit that one more time—“

Billy cracked, this guy said the one thing that made him forget all about trying to keep calm and not fly off the handle. It all went out the window when Eric made that comment.

Acting like he was going to walk away, Billy then drew back and punched Eric so hard in the face that one of his teeth came flying out of his mouth. Another punch to the stomach and to the face, Billy couldn’t stop, pretty soon Eric’s entire face was bloody.

As you continued to eat, you heard commotion coming from around the corner. People were leaving their tables to see what was going on, then came the screams and the sounds of broken dishes. You didn’t need to see what was going on, you knew Billy was involved somehow. There was no need to get up and look, you would find out soon enough.

After the screams and shrieks died down, the hostess came to your table.

“Uh, miss? I am very sorry to tell you but, Mr. Russo has been arrested.” She said while you happened to notice another hostess telling Eric’s wife, what you imagine was, the same thing.

You were shocked but not really and a little embarrassed. “What?!!” But you collected yourself and stayed calm. “Well ok, do you mind if I finish my dinner first before I leave to go get him?” You asked, feeling all of the stares from strangers pointing in your direction.

You could tell the hostess felt a little bad for you. “Absolutely, miss. Is there anything else I can do for you?” She asked.

“Would you box up his food for me and I’ll take a piece of the Valrhona chocolate cake to go, please?” You said.

Your server wrapped up Billy’s food and you enjoyed the rest of your Valentine’s Day dinner alone before going to bail him out of jail.

When you arrived at the police station, they took you to Billy’s holding cell where he didn’t notice you at first. He was leaning up against the bars with his eyes closed, small spatters of blood were sprinkled on his shirt and it looked like he had a small cut on his lip, Eric must have hit him at least once.

“Hey there, Rocky.” You gave him a half smile.

Opening his eyes, Billy looked happy to see you but his face had “sorry” written all over it. “Baby, I am SO sorry. I just—he pushed and pushed—and what he said. I wasn’t gonna let him talk about you like that—“ He said.

You interrupted him. “What did he say, Billy?”

“I don’t wanna tell you.” He said shaking his head.

“I wanna know what he said that made you that upset. I saw his face, Billy. You beat him pretty badly.” You told him.

Billy hung his head in shame. “He said that you always were a little firecracker in bed, one of the best lays he’s ever had. Then asked me if—if I’d let him ‘hit that’ one more time and I don’t remember much after that.”

You felt violated in a way, closed your body off from Billy by wrapping your arms around yourself and looking away from him, disgusted with Eric talking about intimate details of your relationship.

“I tried not letting him get to me, I tried walking away but when he said that—“ Billy violently shook his head back and forth. “I just couldn’t let him get away with it. I snapped—I’m sorry, my love.”

What Billy didn’t know was there was someone else in the restroom at the time Eric was provoking him. He told the owner of the restaurant and the police that he was surprised Billy didn’t punch him sooner than he did.

The restaurant wasn’t pressing charges and after the witness told the police what Eric had said and how he kept provoking Billy, he declined to press charges also so Billy was free to go.

“Well…I did not picture spending my Valentine’s Day in jail.” You said.

He extended his arms and reached out for you to pull you close to the bars. “Well, my love if you wanna get technical, I’M the one that’s in jail.”

You let out a little laugh. “This is true.”

Billy suddenly had a confused look on his face. “Hang on…did you stay and finish your dinner before coming here?” He asked, holding up a one finger to playfully scold you a little.

You knew he was joking with you so you scolded him back in a lighthearted tone. “I had to pay for it anyway Billy so yes, I enjoyed my food while it was hot! Don’t worry, I had them wrap yours.” You shook the bag in front of his nose. “I got a piece of chocolate cake for you too, even though I’m not sure you deserve it.” You said with a wink.

Billy’s eyes widened. “I said I was sorry, baby! Wait. Did—did you say chocolate cake?”

The man’s sweet tooth was insatiable.

“Oh you are gonna have to earn this chocolate cake, Billy Russo!” You snapped. “And you owe me for having to pay for my own Valentine’s Day dinner!”

But your expression softened, and you remembered that Billy apologized without being prompted to do so. It was the first thing he said when he saw you, he was getting better at communicating, so he was trying harder even though he still lost his temper.

What happened wasn’t about him this time though. It wasn’t about him being jealous, it was about defending you, wanting to protect you so that Eric couldn’t hurt you or say anything about you that would upset you.

You pulled back away from the bars and removed your phone from your clutch.

“Anything you want, sweet girl.” He said. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Well first, I’m taking your picture to send to Frank. He’s gonna get a kick outta this.” You started to laugh, Billy wasn’t really amused but he cracked a smile anyway. You always seemed to be able to pull a smile from him even when he didn’t want to.

Slowly, you walked towards him. Reaching through the bars, you snaked your arms around his waist and tried to kiss him as best as you could without the bars getting in the way.

“Thank you, Billy.” You said.

With a surprised look on his face, he replied “For what? For getting thrown in jail and ruining our Valentine’s Day?” He asked, his voice still apologetic for what he had done.

“Well besides that…even though it may not look like it, you did show a lot of restraint tonight. Eric pushed you too far and I bet he’ll think twice before running his mouth about anyone else like that ever again. And you didn’t ruin my Valentine’s Day, Billy—the day isn’t over yet, my love. Let’s go home.” You said as the two of you exchanged smiles through the bars of the jail cell.

When you arrived at home, you told Billy he owed you a dance. You knew it wasn’t something he was very fond of doing but he did say you could have whatever you wanted plus he still had to earn that chocolate cake. The song starts.

I look and stare so deep in your eyes. I touch on you more and more every time. When you leave I'm beggin' you not to go. Call your name two, three times in a row

Billy smiled warmly at you and extended his hand for you to take it and pulled you flush against his chest as you moved together slowly to the music. He held your hand in his over his heart as he kissed the top of your head, just like he had done the night you met.

Such a funny thing for me to try to explain. How I'm feeling and my pride is the one to blame, yeah. 'Cause I know I don't understand. Just how your love can do what no one else can

He danced with you anytime you asked him to, albeit reluctantly, he did it because he loved you. He knew how much you loved that song and he would never do it for anyone else.

“I still have one more present for you, my love.” He whispered to you as the music continued.

Your kiss's got me hoping you save me right now. Lookin' so crazy, your love's got me lookin'. Got me lookin' so crazy in love

You hummed into his chest, your eyes closed, and a wide smile spread across your face. “Hmmmmm…Oh yeah? Well I’m enjoying just listening to your heart beat right now, handsome.” You pulled away gently to look into his deep brown eyes as you said “How about you give it to me tomorrow.”

He looked down at you and kissed you on the forehead. “Whatever you want, beautiful. I love you.”

“I love you too, Billy.” You said as you finished the dance in the warm glow of the candlelight and the city lights outside, shining brightly through your living room window.

Billy would never let anyone say anything malicious about you, the woman he treasured, the woman that taught him the real meaning of love. Billy Russo never failed to show you how deep his love was for you, so if slow dancing with you in the living room was what you wanted from him, then he would happily do that until you told him to stop or until his very last breath, whichever came first.

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ariesbutalibra

TFC Ladies: @itwasthereaminuteago @thisishellfire @officialjanetsnakehole

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕

#Spotify #billy russo fluff #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo #billy russo imagine #thirsty for cox writing challenge #tfc writing challenge #thirsty for cox February challenge

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itwasthereaminuteago · 1 year

Text

|| It Ain't No ||

Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

Tags/warnings: mild violence, fluff, allusions to smut. ☺️

A/n: this was inspired by a lovely prompt from @munsonownsmyass for a proposal and I've used it for the TFC April songfic challenge!

My song is Option by Crosses 💍🖤

And thank you so much to @realfernmayo for making the moodboard! 💗 If you enjoyed please reblog so that others can read, thank you!

It was a slow thing, something that started growing a while after he had sniped off ninjas to help Red. It was the least he could do, leave him free to take down the motherfucker that had killed a loved one. That was something they now had in common at least, however tragic it was.

Either way over time they'd usually end up running into each other on odd nights, a couple of ass-kicking vigilante moths to a burning pyre of bad guys. It was almost inevitable in a way.

There were off the cuff team ups in alleyways. Meetings outside dark, dodgy warehouses with an unspoken plan. The occasional rooftop rendezvous to get the jump on an arms dealer. And after a while they were talking through gang takedowns in Red's loft over a few beers.

He wouldn't have called them dates, but Frank hadn't gone on a date in years and well, they were the closest thing.

For the most part as they worked together well to keep Hell's Kitchen safe, at least once Frank had conceded to Red's no killing rule. And then after he had taken a bullet for Red, and Red had taken a knife in the gut for him, he realised there was now something more between them.

Trust.

It had snuck up behind them both, binding them closer.

Either way Frank found himself here, his gaze soft as he sat watching the way the blues and purples of the neon billboard outside washed across Matt's skin. They were like ephemeral bruises, a reminder of the pain they'd endured but not only that. Once the fighting was over and the wounds were stitched, after a time those punches were soothed with tender touches. And then one day, a crashing kiss and a quiet mutual confession of love whispered into skin.

He focused on keeping his heart rate steady, that was the thing with having a boyfriend who had acutely enhanced senses, it was damn difficult to hide anything from him.

"You hungry?" He asks Matt, not even daring to look at him.

Matt raises his head from the case files he had been pouring over for the past couple of hours, now suddenly aware of his growling stomach. "Actually yeah, I could definitely eat. You want to get some Thai?"

Frank shrugs. "Eh, was thinkin' something different."

"Oh?" Matt's interest was piqued and Frank cursed himself internally, he should have known a change in routine would be risky.

"Yeah I dunno, Madani keeps goin' on 'bout some Persian place. Thought we could try it, go out."

Matt throws him one of those sunbeam smiles of his and Frank is almost ready to give his game away right there.

"You've asked me four times now if I enjoyed the food, your pulse rate practically skyrocketed when we left the restaurant… Frank, what the hell is up with you?"

He feels like a defendant on the stand getting flayed by Matt's interrogative tone.

"Nothin'. Maybe Persian food just don't agree with me."

Frank tries his utmost to calm himself down but it's too late now. He's not felt this apprehensive in a long time but right now his nerves are frayed.

Matt stops him on the sidewalk. "Frank, I need the truth. Remember when we said we wouldn't have any more secrets? Spit it out, now."

"Seriously, it's nothin' to get your panties in a bunch about. Let's just get home."

Matt leans closer to him. "Frank." He says in a warning tone.

Frank sighs, grumbling as Matt cocks his head when he hears him reach into his jacket pocket and retrieve something.

"This wasn't how it was s'posed to go… I was gonna… fuck it. Here goes."

He kneels down in front of Matt right on the sidewalk, with the cacophony of sounds and smells of the Kitchen as his witness. He should have known that this of all things would never have gone to plan.

"Matt-"

"What are you-"

"Shh, christ, just shut up for once and let me do this." Frank grumbles as he goes to fish the ring from its velvet pouch. Just then, Matt holds up his hand, cocking his head to the side.

"Wait, wait-"

Frank's face falls and Matt can hear the panicked rhythm of his heart.

"Just… can you hold that thought for me? There's someone holding up a bodega two blocks away. C'mon!" Matt is grabbing Frank's arm and pulling him to his feet.

"Aw you're fucking shittin' me?"

Frank follows him quickly, seeing the situation clear through the glass door before he's throwing it open, striding towards the asshole that's pointing a gun at the young cashier while Matt hangs back, just letting him do his thing. It's something that he's both wary of and turned on by. The way Frank has this single minded focus on a target, whatever it is, he's a force of nature when he's in that mode and it sets the hairs at the back of Matt's neck on end.

The moment the gunman turns and sees Frank, the recognition is instant. Frank doesn't give a shit if he knows who he is, easily disarming him, breaking the guy's wrist and grabbing his arm and slamming him down to the floor, twisting it painfully behind his back.

"You know what you've done, shithead?"

'Shithead' yells in pain as Frank wrenches his arm up higher. "Hey give me a break man, I- I didn't shoot nobody!"

Frank continues. "Nah, but you've scared this nice lady, and ruined me and my partner's evening, that's what. Fuckface." Frank growls loud right next to his face. "Now, I got more important shit to do and I ain't got time to waste takin' your fuckin' sorry ass to the police, so here's the deal - you're gonna wait here for them to come pick you up while we call em. Ain't that so?"

The guy shakes his head. "Yeah sure, good luck with that, I'll be back out again tomorrow anyways!"

Matt comes up from behind Frank and punches the guy square in the face knocking him out.

"Hey!" Frank turns to him, surprised at his actions.

Matt shrugs as he pulls out his phone to call 911. "I was getting impatient, and besides, you've got important shit to do." He turns to the cashier. "Are you okay, miss?"

The woman nods and thanks them both for intervening. Frank restrains the perp with a hefty amount of cable ties from the back room and Matt leaves his N&M card with the cashier. "You just call us if you need any help."

As they walk down the street toward home, Matt can't help the beginnings of a smile tugging up at the corner of his mouth as he waits.

"So, you were saying?" He presses, his smile growing with every second. Frank stops, shakes his head and scoffs.

"It's always gonna be like this ain't it?"

Matt breathes out something between a laugh and a sigh. "Could argue that it keeps it interesting…"

Frank stops him in the street. "Listen. You and I, we ain't always had the smoothest ride and don't I know it, if tonight's anythin' to go by… but there's no one else I'd rather take that ride with." He shakes his head. "What I'm sayin' is-"

Before he can get it out, Matt is sweeping down in front of him on the sidewalk on bended knee, holding out a ring of his own.

Frank could fucking kill him.

"Frank, will you marry me?"

It's all he can do to laugh. "You fucking- get up here you asshole!" He drags him up into his arms and a slow, sensual kiss. The kind where there's no sense of time or place. When they finally separate, they're both smiling so much it almost hurts. They never thought they'd get this far.

"So?" Matt pushes, sliding his hand down to hold Frank's, their fingers interlocking.

Frank huffs against his cheek. "Well, it ain't no." He pulls back, looking at Matt's pretty face. "Will you marry me?"

"Ain't no either!"

"Alright you smart ass," He says, lifting Matt's hand after he retrieves his silver ring from his pocket and slides it onto his finger. Matt does the same with Frank and when he lets go of his hand, he takes off and runs his fingers over the engraving on the inside of the ring that Frank has just given him.

"It says, 'pain in my fuckin' ass forever'. Frank jokes, and Matt laughs and pecks him on the cheek.

"Well yours says 'better the devil you know'." He grins.

"Huh. Whadaya know, we're perfect for each other."

Matt never hopes for much but he can't wipe the look of sheer joy off his face, tugging Frank along, urging him to walk faster so they can get home and he can fully remind him of just how just grateful he is. He can feel Frank's happiness and contentment too, his heart rate settled and strong with the occasional little flutter when he squeezes Matt's hand and feels the ring there, solid and real.

They're all over each other as soon as the door to their apartment closes, and Matt's coffee table is the first and certainly not the last casualty of their unbridled passion as they make their way to the bedroom. But when they get there it's all gentle love. There will always be bruises, but they'll always be chased with kisses.

Frank tags: @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @mattmurdockspainkink @briefcasejuice @frankcastlescumslut

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemii @imherefordeanandbones @realfernmayo @munsonownsmyass @marvelswh0re @frankcastlescumslut @chellestrash @chvoswxtch @messymissy @evilbubu @lucy-sky @yanna-banana @anna-hawk @km-ffluv

#TFC April challenge #tfc writing challenge #frank castle x matt murdock #fratt fanfiction #fratt #daredevil fic #the punisher fic #fratt fluff #matt murdock fluff #frank castle fluff #Spotify #fratt fic

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honeybeefae · 1 year

Text

I’m working on the Spotify wrapped writing thing rn and let me just tell you…it’s interesting to say the least lol

If y’all have any more numbers send em my way!

#acotar #writing challenge #Spotify writing challenge #chaotic #is the only word I can use to describe some of these

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aringofsalt · 5 months

Note

56!

(+ steddie, mentioned in another ask)

thank you!!! this one was fun haha i hope you enjoy 💕

56 | FALL OUT BOY - THE PINK SEASHELL

So I take pleasure in the detail, you know

It starts small.

It may even start before he notices it.

The first one he notices is a tiny wooden baseball bat on a keychain. It’s not something he would’ve bought for himself; it’s definitely not something his parents would’ve bought for him, or themselves. It’s sitting on his dresser, behind a crumpled-up shirt that had been there for longer than he cared to admit, and under it is a little post-it note that just says YOURS IS COOLER in scratchy block letters.

The handwriting isn’t Robin’s, or Dustin’s, or Nancy’s; and that’s pretty much the end of the list of people whose handwriting Steve knows by heart, so he shrugs, sticks the note to his mirror, and pockets the keychain.

He puts it on his keys the next morning, and it makes him smile every time he sees it.

The little gifts continue, and they don’t always have notes. There’s a little silver thimble one day the following week, with a single yellow flower bud in it; the following morning there’s a chocolate bar left on his windshield with a note that just says EAT UP. He finds a little pink seashell sitting on his windowsill one evening, practically glowing in the sunset. Another week passes and he’s cleaning up a few hours after a D&D session to find one of their little painted minis. This in itself isn’t weird, but this one has SIR STEVE scrawled on the bottom, and it’s a clearly heroic figure wielding a mace—thanks, Dustin, for the vocabulary—and posed like he’s rushing into danger. It has a more than passing resemblance to him, too, the hair and the eyes, and the armour painted in Hawkins green and gold. This trinket, more than any of the previous ones, gives him a hint to who may be leaving the little gifts, and he hopes he’s right as he jumps in the car, figurine still clutched in his hand.

He drives straight to Eddie’s.

It’s getting dark by the time he gets there, Eddie’s porch light a beacon in the night. The door swings open as he’s setting foot on the stairs, Eddie stepping out to lean casually on the doorframe.

“Sir Steve! To what do I owe the honour of your presence?”

“Well, funny you should mention Sir Steve,” he said, holding up the mini. Eddie stared at it, then snapped his eyes back to Steve’s.

“Um, look, I’m sorry, that’s probably weird, I can get rid of it—”

“Dude, no, if you think I’m giving this up you’re crazy,” Steve laughs. “I love it. But. It was you, leaving the other stuff too, wasn’t it?”

“Yeee-eees?” Eddie drawls out, clearly unsure what reaction he should be having. Steve can practically see the mental battle he’s having over whether to apologise again or turn it into a big joke.

“I liked the seashell,” he blurts out, before Eddie’s expression can fall any further. “I mean, I liked all of them, drove me nuts trying to recognise the handwriting, but. They were all pretty cool. I just… I just don’t get why.” He takes a step forward, emboldened when Eddie doesn’t step back. Why did you do something so nice for me is what’s flying through his head, unsaid, but he can tell Eddie sees the question anyway.

“Because you deserve it,” Eddie tells him quietly. “It’s something stupid my dad used to do for my mom when I was a kid. He always said that life is meaningless anyway, you know, you should take pleasure in little things. He’d find the most random things that made him think of her and leave them around the house for her to find. And you always do stuff for other people so,” he shrugs, “I wanted to do something for you.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes. Eddie grins back, then holds up a finger.

“Hold on, I had the next thing already, may as well give it to you in person now.”

He disappears down the hall, leaving Steve to his own devices for a minute, the sounds of clattering and shuffling papers and muttered curses flying as he searches. It only takes him a moment and then he’s back, holding a fist out, dropping the object into Steve’s waiting palm.

It’s a guitar pick, the twin of the one Eddie always wears around his neck, but instead of red and black, the one in Steve’s hand is swirled in yellow and white. Eddie’s fingers linger, tracing the contours of the pick and brushing Steve’s skin.

Steve closes his own fingers, trapping Eddie’s hand in his, smiling when the other man blinks owlishly in surprise.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “It’s perfect.”

—

send me a number 1-100 and a character/ship and i’ll write you a mini fic 💕 original post

#asked and answered #auroraplume #steddie #spotify wrapped drabble challenge 2023 #sarah writes #steddie fic #i am struggling with a couple of these but i'm getting through them damnit

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captainbutterbuns · 1 year

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CW// Drugs, Death(?)

One final drabble share. The rest you'll have to wait to read until the whole collection is published on Ao3.

I originally wanted CoraLaw fluff but the song chosen led me to angst. 😭💔❤️‍🔥🐯

Song picked was Mr Doctor Man by Palaye Royale.

Mr. Doctor Man

Life was hell. Always has been. Pain and suffering were the norm, only being numbed by indifference. How could anyone truely live if all they ever were was a piece of shit.

Law had thought he had moved past these dark tendencies and feelings of turmoil. Had grown out of the desire to see it all burn. What had Corazon saved him for? For him to struggle once more with his own demons?

Yet here he was wallowing in the shadowy pits of his own self loathing.

There was one simple solution to fixing all his woes…at least for a few moments of bliss.

A poke and a jab. Sharp pain and a drop of blood. Skin crawls and veins burn.

Then all goes still as a euphoric sense of weightlessness takes over. Law’s whole body prickles with needles and pins before he drifts off onto a cloud. All his worries and cares forgotten as he stares blankly up at the ceiling of his room.

Nothing mattered anymore.

One didn’t have to deal with all the pain if there was no pain to be felt.

Slow, shallow breaths was all there were now. Not a thought to be had nor a need to move. Nothing.

Then a faint creak breaks through the silence, perking up buzzing ears. Hazy golden pools flicker and shift as a heavy head rolls over. Two burning amber lights breach the fog like beacons of eternal flames, burrowing into a cold, dead soul. Were Law’s demons finally there to calm the rest of him after taking so much from him already?

“Law…”

His name was spoken so soft and low, a slight tremor shaking its presence.

The thumping of footsteps reverberates through his cotton filled head. A looping shadow overcomes his already morphed and twisted vision. The cloud surrounding him seems to lift him up…no…wait….that’s not right. Strong hands hold him close and he feels the warmth of another body, then the sound of a beating heart pounds in his ear.

“You foolish boy. Why do you always have to do things alone?”

There’s that soft voice again.

Law blinks and slowly looks up, fighting past his haze to see a blurry face. Something cold and moist drops onto his cheek but he doesn’t have the strength to wipe it away. All he can do is let his eyes close, finally allowing them to completely relax as his body goes totally numb. He drifts there, existing in a state of non-existence.

“I’m sorry…Cora-san…” the young surgeon’s voice was small and weak.

A sniffle then a croak as the most important man in his miserable life speaks up. “No…I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I won’t ever leave again….I promise.”

The fog starts to dim around the edges, gradually fading to black. Through Law’s fading consciousness he hears one final reassurance…one he hoped would stay true.

“I’ll be here with you…always.”

#one piece fic #one piece #corazon #donquixote rosinante #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #coralaw #drugs cw #possible death...maybe #drabble #spotify writing challenge #Spotify

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frankenjoly · 5 months

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Beautiful

nobamaki + 99 | i am that (the fratellis) ft. post-shibuya but copium

I know this and this only as myself

I'll sing that melody when I'm good and ready

“Honestly, I can’t complain much.” Maki said, shrugging as she took the towel off her head and proceeded to comb her hair. “I mean, the skin still feels a little too tight around the burnt scars, and it’s gonna be a bit of a bummer, waiting for my hair to grow back. But could’ve been worse, y’know? I’m here to tell the tale.”

“And short hair looks good on you too.” Was Nobara’s answer, as she adjusted what looked like a very flashy eyepatch. “Also, same here. Cannot recommend the experience either, but damn if I won’t make a new accessory work either.” That sounds like she had already gotten herself a set for every occasion and even outfit, and… good for her, really.

Besides, her attitude was getting contagious, something that Maki was more than grateful for. So much she hoped her next question wouldn’t ruin it.

“Aren’t you worried? Nishimiya wasn’t exaggerating with the whole thing about women and looking flawless.”

“Pfft, nah.” Nobara instantly shook her head. “I don’t need some bunch of asshole guys to tell me I’m pretty. I know I am.” Hair done, Maki left the comb over the sink and shamelessly allowed herself to stare at Nobara as she spoke… getting lost on the sight for a second. “... you’re beautiful, Maki-san.”

The fact that something was what pulled her back… huh. Definitely something. Not like it was taking her by surprise either.

“I think people should be more like you, y’know?” Instead of thanking her in a direct way, Maki’s approach was simple: one genuine compliment for another, one confession of sorts for another.

And Nobara? She smiled.

(Also on ao3.)

#nobamaki #kugisaki nobara #zen'in maki #jjk maki #jjk nobara #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #my stuff #clau stuff #ficlet #spotify wrapped writing challenge

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y0urm4m · 3 hours

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My kind of man.

(Based of this song but instead of a Matt Pov it’s a reader pov but when writing I almost immediately thought of this song)

Warnings/description: mentions of sexual interactions, Angst to fluff 🤷‍♀️. (Sorry for the no smut this time 😪)

Writing comp: @bratzforchris @nicksbestie

Word count: 2,010

Story elements tried to use/used: angst,fluff, Friends with benefits,home.

╒═══════✰°

I sighed staring down at my phone, 3 notifications from Matt.

We had always been friends and nothing more but recently things had taken a turn. We had decided to be friends with benefits, ‘no strings attached’ were his exact words.

The first few months were fine, we’d meet up, either go out or stay at home and at the end of the day we’d find ourselves out of breath, tangled in one another’s bedsheets. I couldn’t help but admit I always had a thing for Matt, I just could never find the confidence to tell him. It was sad to admit but I was scared of how he’d react.

I decided to talk to Kiara for advice, she had been my friend since before I could walk, I just hoped she was able to help. Unfortunately, she sighed pulling me in for a hug. “I’m only trying to help but from what you’re saying, it seems to me that it’s not just ‘no strings attached’. I can tell by the way your face lights up at Matt’s messages or when he knocks to pick you up, that must mean you feel like there’s a genuine connection.” As the words left her mouth, a few tears fell. “I hate how emotions always get the better of me.” I sobbed into her shoulder. “I know you do, I hate seeing you upset. I just want to help.” Kiara sighed softly, hugging me tighter. The rest of the day I couldn’t even bear answering his messages without bawling my eyes out.

That was the day i stopped doubting my feelings for Matt but I couldn’t relate when thinking about how he felt.

My attention was brought back to my phone buzzing, of course it was Matt. I answered the phone. “Good morning Mathew.” I huffed. “Morning, what you doing today?” He asked. “Literally nothing, why?” I replied, looking at my self in my bathroom mirror. “You want me to come pick you up?” He said. “Sure, give me at least ten minutes to get dressed.” I sighed, brushing my hand through my hair. I looked like death. “Y’know you don’t have to worry about clothes with me, they’ll just end up creased on the floor.” He joked. “I’ll see you in 10 Matt.” I replied ending the phone, taking a deep breath.

— I finished brushing my hair when I heard my door open. “Hey do y- you’re going to Matt’s again?” She muttered, closing my door behind her. I nodded. “I’m sorry ki.” I said, turning to look at her. “No need to apologise but you really need to talk to him about how you’re feeling. You tell me your happy but I know you’re not.” She added, rubbing my shoulder. My face dropping at her words. She was right, she was always right. My bottled up thoughts and feelings were making me miserable and driving me crazy.

Just as if Matt had known we were talking about him, my phone started ringing. “Right I need to go, I promise I’ll text you when I’m there.” I said, hugging her before beginning to walk downstairs. “Hey y/n, please talk to him.” She whisper-spoke, giving me a small reassuring smile. I nodded, rushing out the door so I wasn’t leaving him waiting.

— The car ride was silent apart from a little small talk here and there and the dreaded feeling that was in my stomach. I felt Matt’s hand move from the gear stick, toward my upper thigh. “You okay?” He asked, looking at me slightly before looking back towards the road. I gulped, trying to stop the feeling of the lump forming in my throat and nodded looking down at my finger nails that I had bitten the night prior.

After what had felt like an eternity, we had made it to Matt’s. I slipped out of the car door, walking straight through the front door as Matt also entered the house. I felt his arms slither around my waist as he placed his head in the crook of my neck leaving small kisses on my neck. He mumbled something incoherent. “What did you say?” I asked, pulling away to slightly glancing at him. “Don’t worry about it.” He smiled pulling my face towards his, our lips inches away from each other. I could feel his hot breath on my upper lip as the gap between us closed. At first it was just a soft peck but eventually it became a rough and passionate kiss, one of his hands made there way back towards my waist the other finding comfort in resting on the top of my bum. He pulled away places soft kisses down my face and up my neck as he whispered. “Should we take this upstairs.” Before returning his lips to mine.

Kiara’s words from earlier began playing on replay in my head. ‘You really need to talk to him about how you’re feeling.’ I immediately pulled away, Matt’s face shone with concern. “Are you sure you are okay?” He asked, looking down at me. “Uh- yeah I think I just need some more sleep or something.” I replied, rubbing my hand over my face, trying to play of the fact I could’ve bursted into tears if he asked if I was okay one more time. “Oh do you want to take a nap?” He said, running his hand through the back of my hair. “No it’s fine, I’m just going to use the bathroom quickly.” I said, ushering myself over towards the bathroom.

I couldn’t even tell him I’ve been having a bad day let alone a bad month, all because I just can’t seem to talk to him as I never planned on ‘catching feelings’. I pulled out my phone, messaging Kiara. She told me to stop doubting myself and just tell him. I looked in the mirror, recollecting my thoughts before walking back out the bathroom to be greeted by a confused Matt.

“Matt can we have a sit down and talk, like a proper conversation?” I asked, sitting down at his kitchen counter. “What about?” He asked, following me to the kitchen like a lost sheep. “Just sit.” I sighed, rubbing my hand on my thighs to calm my nerves. Once he had finally sat down I began speaking, the only other thing that could be heard was the sound of the rain hitting the ground outside. “I know this is all of a sudden and I’m sorry but I just can’t live with the pressure of not saying anything and I know we said no strings attached but this past month has been killing me and I just really needed to speak to you.” I ranted on, watching his smile drop. “I- uh- I don’t get your point. I’m sorry” He sighed, brushing his hand through his own hair. “You don’t need to understand Matt but I need to get this off my chest.” I said, taking a deep breath to try and stop myself from crying. I looked up at Matt, his face stayed straight with no emotion which made me bite my lip doubtfully.

Maybe this was a bad idea, I should have just stayed home.

I stood up from my seat. “Y’know don’t worry about it Matt I’m just going to leave and I’ll make my own way home so don’t worry.” I sniffled, trying to fight back the tears forming in my water line. “Wait why are you going.” He shouted following me. “Doesn’t matter. Please just leave me alone.” I said softly and with that I walked straight out the door.

The current rain immediately got me soaked and cold. I’m so embarrassed, I wish my feelings just wouldn’t get the better of me. The tears I had tried so hard to keep in eventually fell as I sobbed, walking a few meters down the street before looking down at my phone.

My teeth chattered as I unlocked my phone calling Kiara. “Kiara.” I said, looking at my phone screen. “Y/n are you outside in the rain, what happened?” She asked, clearly confused and concerned. “I tried to talk to him but I couldn’t bear hearing his reply so I walked out.” I replied, as my breathing became shaky and the tears fell once again. “Y/n I’m coming to pick you up, I’ll stay on the phone but try to stay out the rain so you don’t get a cold.” She said, as the sound of her rushing around filled my ears. “Okay.” I said, sniffling. “Right I’m going to leave now, do you want me to stay on the phone?” She asked, as I heard the door slam behind her. “If you wa-.” I began speaking but someone shouting my name caught my attention.

“Wait up!” Matt shouted, running towards me himself also getting drenched. My body trembling even more from the feeling of my cold, wet t-shirt and my damp hair sticking to my skin. “What do you want Matt?” I choked out, ending the phone and telling kiara I’d talk to her later. He looked down at me, pulling off his jumper passing it to me. “I don’t want your jumper, you’ve made it pretty clear of your intentions so leave me alone.” I spat, shoving the jumper into his arms. “C’mon y/n don’t be like that.” Matt spoke softly. “Matt i really don’t want to talk right now, I’ve already said too much.” I sighed, closing my eyes for a second. “Please just put on the jumper and let me speak.” He pleaded, passing the jumper back to me. “I’ll take the jumper then but I’m not interested in what you have to say.” I huffed, pulling his jumper over my head and on.

“Y/n just listen, I never wanted it to be this way if you had told me how you felt months ago I would have asked you properly.” He sighed. “Get to the point Matt.” I rolled my eyes, shoving my phone in my pocket and crossing my arms. “Y/n I wished you’d realise how much you mean to me, I love you.” He said, as I took a sharp inhale as the last words left his mouth. “Wh-what.” I said, finally looking up at him for the first time since he’d ran after me. The whole world stopping as I took time to reassess the what he had just said.

“I- I love you.” He sighed, running his hand through my hair. “I uh-.” I began speaking but before I could finished my sentence, I felt his lips smash into mine. “I really do love you.” He whispered into the kiss. I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck, his finding their way around my waist. The smell of a mixture of his cologne and the rain filled my nose as my heart skipped a beat, we had kissed many times before but this time it felt different. It felt genuine. It was as if the world around us had disintegrated, leaving just me and Matt.

I pushed my hand through his now wet hair as he pulled back, the feeling of his lips on mine disappearing. “I want to start over, not just a silly situantionship. I want an actual relationship with you, we can learn from each other and our past mistakes but only if you’d like to.” He said, putting his hands in mine. “I’d love to.” I smiled, nodding my head. The dull, dreaded feeling I had felt the past month had washed away as the rain poured. “Let’s go inside, can’t have you getting a cold.” He said, giving my head a quick, light and cold kiss as we walked back towards his house hand in hand. “I love you Matt.” I said looking to the side, up at him. “I know you do.” He chuckled, looking down at me.

I had Matt and he had me. He was all I could have asked for. It was a genuine connection. It really was love.

°✰═══════╛

A/n: honestly don’t know how to feel about this one as it was super short but I hope you all liked it and enjoyed reading — hugs and kisses Gracie 💋

Tag list: @junnniiieee07 @patscorner @mattyb4dominicans @watercolorskyy @brooklynn0103 @imwetforyourmom

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