šµšµ . summary : guy gardner x reader. (past) hurt/(present) comfort | you and guy broke up during your high school days. what happens when you randomly happen upon him over a decade later? is your relationship salvageable, or have the years and distance truly ruined it?
šµšµ . wc : 7.7k
šµšµ . cws ++ info : 18+ / MDNI. eventual smut, cunnilingus, fingering. reader's first time receving the former. reader mentioned wearing a bra, and having breasts and a pussy, but is described using gn! terms. flashback.
šµšµ . a/n : i'm so tired of having to repost this. may the higher powers of tumblr give me reprieve. fellow dc fans, pls befriend me. i'm vv shy, but really want dc moots on here, esp guy gardner and general green lantern fans, hehe <3. if i forgot anything, then i forgot, i'm not touching this again. goodnight (it's 15:00).
@twentytomidnight, sorry if i filled your notifs from my previous (re)posts of this, friend. . .
inspo: 2 kids by taemin.
HUMMING quietly along to the music in your earbuds, you place a jar of instant coffee into your trolley. Grocery shopping is one of your favourite times of the week. The routine that comes with buying more or less the same items weekly, and the ability to shut off most of the world as you plug your earphones in and go about your day. Your footsteps as you walk from item to item feel like a dance to the song playing in your ears, a dance that only you can understand. The regularity and calm that comes with the mundane task is something you hesitate to admit you desire. Really, how many people out there would say they enjoy performing chores? Thereās very rarely anything that can ruin it. Traffic jam? No problem, youāre in no rush. Product out of stock? It's happened before, you'll live. However, whatāor rather whoāyouāre not prepared to see on a random Wednesday afternoon is the figure of someone so painfully familiar yet distant. And as much as you would love to wish you were wrong, there is no doubt that this is Guy Gardner. The sight halts you in your tracks. You swear your heartbeat stutters. How long has it been since you set eyes on him last? At least 15 years, surely? The words exchanged on that bitter day still ring in your head loudly.
You and Guy met in freshman year Maths. High school, a period often referred to as the spring of oneās life, a time of growth, fresh beginnings, and the blooming of flowers amongst other things. You recall it clearly, being lined up at the back of the room alongside your new peers. Your nerves were acting up at the prospect of meeting unfamiliar people, the mere thought would make your stomach churn. Noticeably different was the classroom to others in the building. Unlike all of the othersā white walls, these were a saturated blue. You preferred that room to the others, the bright colour would always boost your mood. With a shrill voice, the teacher announced for everyone to acquaint themselves with their seat partner. After all, you would be sitting together for the rest of the year. It would be certainly disadvantageous if you didnāt get along well, right? Upon having learnt that you had been seated beside Guy at the back of the classroom, you were unsurprised to discover that he was a delinquent. You had often been placed next to misbehaving students in previous classes; the teachers hoped your intellect, punctuality, and goody two-shoes personality would rub off on them. Whether it was an effective method or not is still up for debate.
Unlike your prior experiences with ābadā students, Guy was remarkably co-operativeāalbeit it did take a while for him to familiarise himself with you. If he didn't understand something during class, you'd patiently explain it to him with a whisper, and it didn't take long for him to hunt you down to help him with his assignments. At first, you couldnāt comprehend why a student who has no qualms with sparking fights and truanting would go the extra mile to complete homework, something you assumed to hold slight importance to him. Guy claimed it was due to having better things to do than be in detention. Although when you started dating, it became clear he was attempting to spend more time with you. The idea that you had piqued his interest so early on was astonishing.
And so, that leads to the fated question of: how did you guys end up together? You can't remember the exact moment it clicked for the both of you. What you do recall however is Guyās lingering glances on you day after day during your focused explanations to problems that he likely was only half-listening to. The burn of his gaze on your skin as you basked in a waterfall of his attention. Whilst he was distracted and working on his homework, you gave Guy an equally intense stare, scanning the faint permanent furrow of his brows. Why was he always so angry? It must be exhausting. Through that though, you noticed his genuine dedication to the tasks, a present determination that regardless how hard it is, he would get through to the end. It was an admirable but sometimes hidden quality, yet all the same, it was one of the main reasons you found yourself falling for him at the age of fifteen. Whenever you finished your explanations, Guy would immediately avert his gaze, pretendingābadly at thatāthat he was distracted by something else in the room. You couldnāt say much for yourself however, and eventually, there was this silent agreement that it was a game of whoever was caught first.
One day, when you had finished your explanation, you noticed Guy was still staring at you. A new phenomenon, or had he just zoned out conveniently right where you were? You subtly shifted, so your head was no longer in his direct line of sight. Nope, his eyes were definitely following you.
āUhm, Guy?ā You implored him to say something.
āDo you like me?ā The question was sudden. Well, that was definitely a way to start a conversation.
āI meanāā You spluttered for a moment, the demand caught you off-guard before you managed to compose yourself. āYeah. Do youā¦ like me?ā You posed the question.
āMhm, so weāre dating then?ā
āI suppose soā¦ā Oh, how naive the both of you had been to matters of love back then. It was simple in your minds, if two people liked each other like that, it meant they were dating, and so you nod in reply.
āOkay, cool.ā
āCool.ā You both nodded awkwardly, it didnāt take a genius to figure out that this was the first romantic relationship either of you would be entering. You had to physically stop yourself from wringing your hands thanks to nerves, but at the same time, were struggling to meet Guyās gaze. With a herculean effort, you manage to make eye contact. Smiling shyly at one another, you both suddenly burst out laughing, dissipating any remaining tension.
Being the optimist that you are, you had high hopes and the relationship was thankfully steady sailing for the first year. Guy would sometimes pull you into his trouble, nothing genuinely malicious but he loved a good prank. And, you would pull him in the opposite direction at other times. Guy had some bad days, everyone noticed them. He would come over to your house after having skived school the whole day with a concerning black eye or the hints of a bruise that you could make out only through the subtle winces when he stretched his torso too far. You wished so badly to know what the cause was, to be able to share that burden on the shoulders of two people instead of one, but Guy would only ever shut you down if you even expressed any desire to know. It wasnāt something he wanted to share, and you couldnāt force him to. The moods that came about from these events led to Guy starting a lot more fights. This only increased by junior year, where Guy was truanting almost every week at this point, and only having more and more run-ins with the police thanks to the sheer amount of brawls he was getting into on the streets. Fortunately, Guy was still the same old one you'd known since freshman year when he was with you, but that didn't mean you didn't fret over him all the same. Over those two years, the early stages of your embryonic love bloomed into something firm and steady that the both of you could fall back on when things got too hard. Lord knows you needed that just as much as Guy sometimes.
However, everything came to a head when Guy was called to the principalās office over the tannoy early one morning, youād both walked to school together that morning so you knew he was present at the very least. A few of the kids in your class had cast a knowing glance at you, most people in your year knew of your relationship with Guy. They didnāt really understand how such opposite people could click with one another, but then at the end of the day, neither of you cared about otherās understanding so it made little difference. When your English class came aroundāone you shared with Guy that year, he was absent. That wasā¦ odd. Whilst Guy had a knack for truanting, he would always attend all of his classes if he arrived that day, having been an all or nothing kind of person. So the sight of his absence unnerved you ever so slightly. It would be fine, though. You could just call him to meet up at your house or another one of your mutual hang out spots.
When the final bell rang for the day and the teacher finally dismissed you, you didnāt hesitate to text Guy to meet up at the spot in the woods you both often frequented. It was a quiet and relaxing spot that you introduced him to a year ago, and you could tell he had grown fond of the place from how often he dragged you there, whether that be to talk, to make out, or to sit in silence as you both did your own thing.
Upon arriving at the location, you found Guy already there sat on the grass. Shoulders hunched and back against a tree as he picked at pieces of grass one by one.
āHey,ā you greeted him, āyou werenāt in English today. Did something happen?ā You casually delivered the words, figuring it was little to be worried about.
āGuess you could say that.ā He muttered, his gaze still fixed on the grass before him. The vagueness of the statement didn't sound suspicious whatsoever.
āWhat is it?ā You had begun to demand impatiently. āGuy, I swear to God if this is another stupid prank youāre playing on meāā
āI got expelled.ā The announcement was sudden. āThey kicked me out for good.ā
It would be completely silent were it not for the gentle breeze ruffling the leaves around you. You were unsure how to react. Itās not exactly like this was unexpected, rather it was a long time coming. As much as you were a good influence on Guy, you knew inevitably his inability to change his ways would catch up with him.
The lack of a response on your end forced Guy to lift his gaze to you. āSay something then.ā
āWell, canāt you just enrol into another school? Baltimore isnāt exactly sparse of them.ā You threw out the suggestion as if itās the obvious choice.
Having shook his head, he tossed the clump of grass that heād collected aside and stood up, dusting his pants off. āNot going to, Iām done with school. Itās a joke.ā
Maybe it was because school was the way you and Guy met in the first place, maybe it was because it was where you spent a good amount of your time together, but the concept that Guy was willing to give up what you felt was such an important part ofāif not the reason forāyour relationship so easily sent a foreboding feeling of dread through you. Surely, you meant more to him, right?
āWhat about your diploma? Don't you want to go to college? Get a degree?ā You laughed nervously.
āAnd, do what with it? I'm good, thanks.ā Guy scoffed.
The condescending tone changed that sentiment of dread and pain to a bitter anger targeted at Guy. āWhat? So you just plan to waste your life doing nothing?ā You snapped.
āWhoa, what's up with youā? Just because I'm not interested in impressing mommy and daddy like yourself?ā Guy retreated to the offensive, putting on a whiny voice as he mocked you for your beliefs and aims.
āMy reasons don't fucking matter if they're getting me somewhere. How are people supposed to stick around and help you, if you don't even seem like you want to help yourself?!ā A flock of birds had flown off a tree and away from the volume of your voice.
āWell, leave then. No one asked you to stay for this long. Youāre clearly too good for me, for this whole town, matter of fact.ā Guyās tone was suddenly lax and indifferent, his face shut off from expressing any emotion. He did that a lot when he felt the claws of vulnerability slowly closing around him. A prey trying to ward off its predator, that's how Guy treated emotions in those days. āGo on, see if I care.ā
Although you knew his words were purposefully trying to aggravate you, it didn't stop them from making you feel sick at the notion of Guy having targeted your deepest insecurities, and there was some doubt deep inside you that thought the words true. You'd realise later that the shock was similar to the one you'd feel whenever your life was sliding out of view. And, to be fair, to seventeen-year-old you, the rupture of your first relationship probably was a life-altering event at the time. Guy didn't look up as you left, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from begging you to stay if he did.
Since that day, neither of you spoke nor even glanced at one another. You blocked Guyās number, and avoided parts of the town you knew he frequented. Before you knew it, you graduated high school, and left to an out-of-state college after receiving a scholarship.
The sight of Guy resurfaces those bittersweet memories that youāre certain you'd managed to bury. Anxiety courses through you, anxiety and fear. Fear that heād never want to set eyes on you again after the way your last interaction together ended, and regard you with detest instead. Fear that even if there was no loathing in his gaze, you would see only indifference in those green eyes of his that you used to adore when he was distracted. Fear that thereās now a firm line drawn between the two of you that severed any intimate connection you once held. And so, with those emotions dictating your next move, you back out of the aisle with the precision and silence one could only attribute to a spy, feeling very much like an alternate universe James Bond. Yet even that doesn't stop Guy's head from lifting, no longer focusing on the products on the shelf, as he turns his head in your direction. It feels as if your heart plummets to the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Dreads surfaces like a wave, demanding to be felt in every molecule of your body.
Guy's gaze is on you, unable to recognise but only for a moment as he processes the sight in front of him. It's not difficult for Guy to identify you. Despite 16 years having passed since your last encounter, you've not changed a great deal. Yes, your hair is styled differently, no longer straightened as you used to be so adamant on doing. You lookā¦ older, more mature and comfortable in your own body. And, matter of fact, so does Guy, sporting a confident and lax posture. A few scars may litter his face here and there now but it's him, that you can say for certain.
If this were a film, Guyās next move would be to drop the shopping basket in his hand, and engulf you in a hug as he tells you how badly he missed you. But, alas, you're no longer naĆÆve enough to believe that hopelessly romantic drivel. Surprisingly however, Guy's expression transforms to one of pure astonishment and awe once he realises who exactly you are. As if he's been blessed by a divine being, Guy whispers your name under his breath like a prayer.
āWowā¦ā His breath is stolen away from how stunted your appearance has left him. āWasnāt expectinā to run into you.ā There is comfort in the thought that neither of you anticipated this. Comfort in knowing that, if anything, you can at least indulge in this shared experience to form some imaginary connection with Guy.
āOh, uhāā You are unprepared to actually interact with him and frantically pluck out an earbud. The concept of ever talking to Guy again had not come to mind; you were so sure you'd never cross paths with one another, that that is what fate had in store for you, and yet here he is. One hand tightens around the handlebar of your trolley as you think of what to say next.
āI live around here.ā You reveal without thinking twice. āNot right next to the shop, like. I mean, about twenty minutes away.ā The unnecessary correction, that does nothing to improve your delivery, leaves you feeling like a bumbling idiot. Why would Guy think you live next to the shop when there are no buildings in the vicinity? The shop is quite literally just off the road connected to a motorway. āYeah. Anyway, uhm, I should get back to my groceries! I've gotā¦ stuff, later.ā A lie, of courseāand a shit one at that. Regardless, it's the best you've got, and you slowly back yourself and your trolley away, keeping a stiff smile on your faceālike a prey keeping its eyes on its predator as it goes to escapeāas you attempt to extricate yourself from this awfully awkward interaction.
āWaitā!ā The sound stops you in your tracks. āWould you wanna catch up? There's some things we should probably talk about. Only if you wanna. Or even if you don't, we can talk about anything. I justā I wanna talk to you.ā Guyās voice quiets down to a mumble when admitting his desire. āNot now, since you're busy ān all. But, maybe I could get your number?ā His expression is painfully hopeful to the point that you want to accept his request without even thinking it through. This was not what you were expecting when leaving your home earlier today. A second chance, is that what this is?
You remind yourself that you could just leave right now, ignore Guy's words and continue on with your life as if this encounter never happened, as rude as it would be. You could, and would, if you could somehow convince yourself that some part deep inside of you didn't still love him, still cherish those memories from so long ago. And so, you don't leave. What you do however is keep speech to an absolute minimum as you unlock your mobile, not wishing to make a clown of yourself once more. Handing the device to Guy, your fingers faintly brush against one another and you feel what you can describe only as something akin to what you imagine an electric current running up your arm would feel like.
Enthusiastically, Guy unpockets his own mobile andāwow, were his hands always that big? With observant eyes, you subtly stare at him whilst he's distracted with his task. Hm, this feel familiar, you think to yourself. And, that familiarity prompts you to compare the Guy in front of you with the Guy you had known all those years ago. Taking the time to indulge in the visual of his figure, the first thing you notice is the stark change in his build. Gone is the scrawny kid you'd initially known him as, and here is a grown man, his shoulders now broad enough to fill out his t-shirt completely. A few stray pieces of stubble decorate his jaw, and when he speaks, you spot a missing tooth. What's the story behind that one? You find yourself wondering. That is still unmistakably a bowl cut on his head though, you suppose there are some things people never grow out of.
Having finished exchanging numbers, Guy hands your phone back. āThanks, I'll message you later then.ā
You nod in acknowledgement, and no sooner than that do you both say your farewells and excuse yourselves.
Beginning to depart, you feel butterflies in your stomach, the flutter of each wing raising your optimism levels little by little. Before you can get too far though, you're stalled once more by the sound of Guy's voice calling out to you yet again. What could he possibly have to say now?! You turn around as calmly as humanly possible, and raise a brow in question.
His face is the same colour as that of a strawberry. At first, you're concerned, but then you recall that Guy blushes very easily and very deeply, which explains his current complexion. Approaching him with slow and careful footsteps, you inquire as to whether he's okay.
Keeping his gaze averted, Guy blurts out the following so quickly that you almost don't catch it, āI missed you. Alright, see you.ā Immediately after, he departs with such speed from the aisle, shopping basket in hand, that you aren't even able to get a word in edgewise. And, even if you wished to, this new knowledge rooted you to the ground, leaving you momentarily paralysed. All this time, you were convinced that Guy's words from that day held true. The doubtful part of you took control and affirmed that you meant little to him, that he didn't care if you stayed or left for these past sixteen years. This revelation changes a lot.
You donāt expect Guy to message you so quickly, the notification popping up on your mobile at 20:18 the very same day of him asking when and where youād like to meet makes you double-take, making sure that your delusions that not taken you over to the point of imagining him messaging you. You turn your mobile off, then on again. The notification burns its way into your brain, but you stop yourself from opening it straight away, not wanting to seem too eager to reply.
Half an hour later, after distracting yourself with a few chores, you find your way back to your phone, and begin to berate yourself for acting like a teenager with their first crush. Youāre both grown adults now for goodness sake, Guy wouldnātāor hopefully shouldnātācare about the speed of your replies. You let him know that he can meet you on the coming Sunday around noon at a cafe that you intentionally choose thanks to its close proximity to your flat.
On the day, you arrive earlier than the agreed time, partially out of habitual nerves and partially thanks to the pervasive desire to be prepared for everything. You find yourself overthinking this proper reunion with Guyābecause letās be honest, that brief encounter at the shop doesnāt really count. Since agreeing when and where your reunion would be, neither of you had sent the other anymore messages. You presume Guy is probably busy with his own life, his job, his friends, his hobbies, all of which you are not a part of. And, when you try to open your messages to re-read the messages, determine for the umpteenth time if this is real, you find your hands jittering, so the idea of sending a message is unfathomable. Sipping on a decaf and scrolling on your phone to appear absentminded, you spot that recognisable figure in your periphery, and glance up to see Guy raising his hand in a waving gesture.
āHey, you made it.ā He greets you casually with a lax smile, and sits down. A waitress approaches him not soon after, and after having his order taken, he zones back in on you. His eyes feel as if their burning into your skin with each second that passes as he properly takes you in after all these years. āYouāre lookinā good.ā
āOh, really? Thanks!ā Your reply is far too loud and far too quick, and you feel yourself cringing at it. Oh, come on, you cannot look like an idiot again. Maybe he meant it as a general comment. Comes the thought, and cough to get a hold of yourself. āSo, howāve you been? I didnāt know you lived here too.ā Thatās true to say the least, you were under the assumption that Guy would still be living in your hometown doingā¦ well, you werenāt sure about that, but he seemed dead set on staying there when you last spoke.
āBeen meaninā to get out of Baltimore for a while now. I moved a few weeks ago. Havenāt got round to gettinā to know the local places, what with being busy gettinā everythinā settled ānā organised.ā
āI can show you around.ā You blurt out suddenly. āIf you want, that is.ā
Guy pauses, surprised by the offer, before flashing you a toothy grin that brings out the crowās feet around his eyes, and your heart stutters over itself at the sight. āYeah, Iād like that. Thanks. What are you doing now, anyway?ā
āIām a teacher, actually.ā Your announcement comes with great pride. āStudied English Literature at uni, got my degree and teaching qualifications. Ended up teaching high school English. Sāpose you could say I went full circle.ā
āSounds like you like it a lot, teachinā can be stressful.ā Is that a hint of fondness you could hear in his voice?
āIt is fun! Feels like Iām doing something good for others, and it reminds me a lot of our time in high school.ā
The flash of emotionāpain?āpassing across Guyās face doesnāt go unnoticed by you at the mention of high school, is that the only way you two can look back on that time now? However, itās wiped quickly when the waitress returns with his order. He thanks her before she retreats to her other tasks. With her gone, Guy turns his attention to you completely and lets out a breath, you could feel sympathy in his gaze.
āListen about that dayā¦ ām sorry. Iām not gonna try ānā excuse what I did, because what I said to you was horrible. Thereās no arguing that. I had problems, and I attacked you just because you wanted to help me. That wasnāt right. I shouldāve never said what I did. I regret it every time I remember. Iām sorry it took me so long to screw my head back on and apologise to you.ā The volume of Guyās voice levels down to that of a whisper, his expression distraught and voice sincere and restrained. You can tell this has been haunting him for a while. Part of you feels relief at the notion that you werenāt the only one plagued by that day.
āItāsāā You begin, wanting to wipe any trace of guilt Guy has, before remembering that you need to stick up for yourself. You wring your hands underneath the table. āWell, it wasnāt okay. Some of the things you said I still find easy to believe today.ā A sharp intake of breath from opposite you. āBut, Iām not going to pretend I was a saint. I said things that didnāt help the situation either.ā
āMaybe, but you shouldnāt have had to feel like I was your responsibility.ā
āI didnāt feel like that, or well for the most part, anyway.ā You correct him gently. āI genuinely wanted to do it out of goodwill and love for you. I sāpose, in part, I didnāt like the idea of failing, and became frustrated by that. Have youā¦ gotten help, by the way?ā You tread the topic cautiously.
āYeah, I did. Helped me unlearn a lot of my, uhm well, āharmful behaviourā, they called it. I'm not gonna say I don't get angry anymore, because I do. I donāt think that anger is ever goinā away. But, I know how to manage it better.ā Guyās calm voice puts you at ease, and you find yourself feeling as if no time has passed at all between you two.
The moment is consumed by silence before Guy breaks it. āI meant what I said before I left on Wednesday, you know?ā
You raise a brow, racking your brain in an attempt to remember what he'd said.
āI missed you.ā Guy says it so simply as if it doesn't shatter your worldview. The one truth you'd believed these past 16 years had been suddenly shredded; Guy Gardner does, in fact, care about you. You look off to the side, needing to focus on something else as you swallow back tears.
āI missed you too.ā You're embarrassed to be so forthright with him, but if Guy can do it then you'd like to try to, at the very least.
The reunion goes as well as any reunion can. Things are still awkward here and there, but you trust it's a natural occurrence of not having interacted with Guy for years. You both however continue to meet up, a fortunate series of events thanks to you keeping your promise of showing Guy around the town. During this, you find yourselves drifting back towards one another, almost to the proximity that you had once shared. Your current relationship is akin to watching an ice cube melt in real time, a slow and steady process that, at first, appears to be making no developments, but once you notice the change, youāre already at ease around one another.
A few months have passed since that reunion, and you and Guy have found yourselves meeting up regularly just to hang out, often at one another's flats. Falling into the same old conversations and activities that you used to partake in, the stark difference now being how much you've both matured and grown. During your moments together, there are instances where it feels as if you've been in contact these past 16 years. But then, they pass as quickly as they come through one of you bringing up events or people that the other isn't familiar with. It's as if the portcullis has been slammed shut, preventing you and Guy from entering each otherās castle of memories. A sense of loss at your absence in the otherās life. You suppose that might be why you find yourselves constantly drawn back together week after week, day after day. To make up for lost time that can never be returned.
One chilly night, you invite Guy to accompany you to your flat after having eaten dinner out together. The sky is dark and dreary, the yellow light shining down from the surrounding streetlamps being the only thing to improve the atmosphere. Your footsteps fall in line as you match each otherās pace, you'd like to think that your heartbeats have matching intervals too. Chatting idly, a sharp gust of wind blows, launching a bag in your direction. You dodge it easily, and you and Guy giggle over the idea that the bag was purposefully planning your demise. To any other passerby, you would appear to be a couple retreating back to the warmth and comfort of your shared home. The chemistry between you is ever present, that is undeniable. You feel it in every gaze, every touch of your fingers making the briefest contact, in your banter, and in sharing a past that no one else will ever know the full experience of.
Having eventually arrived at your flat, you and Guy make for the settee, your knees pressed comfortably against one another as you continue to chat and exchange jokes. You find yourself slipping into your smart arse self once more, and Guy reverting to his overly confident persona like always.
The atmosphere changes quickly however once you notice Guyās lingering gaze on your face, more specifically your lips. Even when you finish speaking, he doesnāt lift his gaze.
āGuy?ā An attempt to catch his attention. The sound manages to cut through whatever fixation heās stuck in, and he rips his gaze away from your mouth and up to your eyes.
āYeah?ā You spot his tongue darting out to wet his own lips.
An amused huff escapes you. āAt least try and make it a little less obvious.ā Grabbing his collar, you waste no time pulling him in for a kiss, one that is quickly reciprocated. Guyās lips are soft, albeit slightly chapped. You have noticed he has a habit of biting his lips when in deep thought, an oddly endearing habit. Your waist is like a handle, perfect for Guy to grab and pull you flush against him as he hungrily kisses you backāyou see the passion hasnāt left him even after so long, your teeth clashing as a result of your mutual enthusiasm. Running out of breath, you take the chance to push Guy so his back is against the armrest of the settee, and straddle him. Itās a delicious sight, finally being able to feast upon the visual of him underneath you, surrendering to you. The awe in his eyes as he looks up at you as if youāre some divine being that can decide his fate right now. Guy is at your mercy, and yet captivated by you all the same.
He whispers your name with the same reverence he used that day you saw each other again for the first time. How long ago was that now? Thereās one notable difference this time, though; he wants you in a way that he feels no shame in expressing. And, itās all you can do not to kiss those now red lips that would definitely be bruised by morning at the pace youāre going.
āYeah?ā Your attempt at a controlled tone falters, and the tension between you feels as if itās one drop away from spilling over the brink. Guyās Adamās apple bobs up and down, and an urge to bite it springs to mind.
āIf weāā Guyās complexion takes on the same colouring as a strawberry as he struggles to pose his request. The following words come as a rushed mumble as he runs his hands down his face, pausing over his mouth. What a shame, you were enjoying the view of his lips all red and plump thanks to you. āHah, I don't know what you're doing to me.ā
The admission sends heat rising to your own face, you swear you can hear the blood rushing inside of you, pumping at the prospect of what could happen this evening.
āIf we what?ā You purse your lips as you sense a giggle rise within you at Guy's nervous behaviour. āFeels like we're still awkward teens who don't know how to talk about sex.ā Because that was the truth of the situation, wasn't it? You no longer recognise the exact grooves and freckles on Guy's body, could no longer match the feel of Guy's lips and body against you now to the boy you had once known.
Regret paints Guy's expression, āIām sorry that we lost so much time.ā Could he read your mind, or are you just so in-tune with one anotherās emotions? Can he read the micro-expressions on your face, the small twitches that hint at your mood as well as you do him? āIf we go further than kissing, is that alright?ā His eyes contain such a desperate hope, and you find yourself sucked deep into them, before being brought back to Earth. āPlease?ā Guyās begging now. You never thought you'd see the day. His thumb strokes the curve of your hip over your clothes, and he has to stop his other hand from wandering too much until you give the green light.
āThought you'd never ask.ā You reply with pure glee, wasting no time to dive in for another kiss. Your lips are desperate and firm against Guyās. This is what youāve been missing out on all these years, you think to yourself. He bites your lower lip harshly, and then swipes a tongue against it to soothe any pain. The gesture leaves you melting in his arms like putty. Your mouth opens ever so slightly at the motionāan instinctual reaction as if you were made for this momentāand thatās all the permission that Guy needs before his tongue finds its way between your lips and mingling with your own. The saliva coating both tongues leaves for the most obscene sounds, and in most situations, youād be mortified. Yet it matters little to you when the experience is so pleasant.
His hand slides down to wrap around your thigh. You're fairly proud of the thickness and size of your thighs, to the point of it being your favourite part of your body, so to see Guyās hand easily engulf half of its perimeter when your own hand doesn't even cover the full front of it leaves you internally gawking. His other hand snakes underneath your shirt, the direct skin to skin contact sets off a fire in you, and you experimentally grind against Guyās crotch. You hear his breath hitch, but the gesture is welcome as his lips slip down to your jaw and neck, needily kissing and biting at the fleshāyouāre going to enjoy admiring the marks come morning. Guyās hand that's wandering under your shirt teases its way upwards, and he runs a finger along the hem of your bra.
He has to force himself to pull away from you just for a moment, and, God, what heād do to not have to do that. āWanna move to your bed?ā As much as the rough brute Guy often comes across as, he would like your first time with him to be comfortable. It means too much to him, and you as well, to give you anything less. And despite the burning desire to have you for himself right now, a settee is just not able to meet that requirement.
āMhm.ā Your positive but impatient response alerts Guy that you also donāt want to separate yourself from him, from those lips that tasted faintly of the energy drinks he loved to have, from those hands that you wouldnāt mind holding onto you forever, but you have to remind yourself that it wonāt be long. When you go to stand, suddenly a pair of hands grasp your thighs and lift you up into Guyās hold. Your legs wrapping around his hips tightly. A surprised sound escapes you as you look down at the motion, clenching your firsts around Guyās shirt with both hands in fear of being dropped.
āEyes up here, sweetheart. Donāt worry, I can hold you.ā He whispers, the light brush of his breath on your ear makes your stomach do a flip, and he carries you with ease towards your bedroom whilst he connects your lips once more. It seems youāre not the only one who enjoys kissing the other person, the thought softens your insecurities ever so slightly. Laying you down on your bed, Guy crawls on top of you, itās almost as if you hadnāt even moved rooms from how little the atmosphere has changed, and you once more fall into the song and dance of making out. In quick time, Guyās shirt is splayed on the floor alongside your own as you tug at his trousers.
āSomeone eager?ā Guy teases you in the quiet of the room.
āDonāt act like you donāt feel the same.ā You shoot back, what would appear to the average person as casual playfulness is in reality a search for validation. Did Guy want you as much as you wanted him? If thereās anyone that knows you well however, itās him, and he presses a soft kiss to the side of your mouth.
āYou got me there.ā He admits with a chuckle, and before he can say a word more, you pull him in for another kiss. His hands work their way to your bra, and his ability to undo the clasps without looking astonishes you. Guyās lips trail down, squeezing one breast with one hand and circling the nipple of the other with his tongue before licking a long stripe across the whole breast. Your hand grasps his hair, and scratches at his scalp faintly. Guyās mouth travels down to your stomach, biting lightly at the soft belly fat, which causes you to laugh in surprise and try to swat him away. He pins your wrist down with his free hand, and begins to tug at your trousers and underwear.
āRaise your hips, buddy.ā He mutters.
āCould you not call me buddy when weāre half-naked and making out?ā Your nose scrunches.
āWhat? Don't like being my buddy?ā You can hear the hint of a restrained smile in his voice.
āGuy.ā You groan at his absurdity.
He pulls the last of your clothes down with one swift motion, the cool air of the room hitting your core suddenly. Filled with embarrassment, you try to close your legs out. Guyās not having any of that though and grabs your thighs with both hands, pushing them open. āDonāt hide the view from me.ā The ghost of his breath makes contact with that private space, and youāre aware of just how close he is to it.
āWaitā you donāt plan on, uh, eating me outā¦ do you?ā You ask hesitantly.
āWhy not? Are you not into that?ā
āNo, no. Itās justā¦ Iāve never had anyone do that to me before.ā An awkward laugh escapes you.
Guy raises his head to lock eyes with you. āNever?ā The shock on his face looks comical. āI can fix that.ā He suggests. āFair warning though: once you get a feel of my tongue, everyone else is gonna feel mediocre to you.ā Guy promises with a tone that can only be described as cocky.
āTry your best, Gardner. Weāll see about that.ā You tease, knowing the words would only fire him up more.
Guy doesnāt hesitate, licking a careful stripe between your folds from the bottom to the top of your opening. You let out a strained cry of pleasure. Then, his tongue finds your clit, and thatās where you feel it most. You tighten your grasp on Guyās hair, pursing your lips to hold back whines as Guy circles the tip of his tongue around the bud, before darting down inside of you once more. With his left hand, he spreads your right leg wider, and you hadnāt even noticed you were beginning to close them from the pleasure of his tongueās ministrations. With his free hand, he rubs your clit slowly, painfully slowly. And, you realise his ploy. He wants you to ask him.
āGā Guy, gasp, donāt tease me. Come on.ā You whine, your moans mixing in with your speech to sound like a church choir to his ears. Guyās head lifts up, and you spot the sheer fluid coating around and on his mouth. One was most definitely his saliva, and the otherā¦ you can feel yourself tighten at the realisation that itās your wetness.
āTell me then. Go on, what dāyou want?ā He encourages you. His eyes roam your body as he continues stroking around your bud, waiting patiently for you to give in and ask him. Heat rises through your body as you breathe deeply, and Guy notices the faint hints of red painting your chest in the low light.
āWant yourā¦ you know.ā You mumble as quietly and quickly as you're hoping to get away with it.
āWant what?ā Guyās tone borders on sadistic. It feels as if you're a donkey chasing a carrot on a stick.
āFuck me.ā You blow out an exasperated breath. āYou know what I mean.ā You say through gritted teeth.
āIād love to fuck you, but I don't think that's what you're talking about.ā What youād love to do is wipe that cheeky smile off of his face.
āWant your tongue instead of your fingersā¦ to make me cum.ā You whisper with the most confidence a mortified person could muster.
āSee, that wasn't so hard.ā Guy slides his hand from your stomach round to your waist before lovingly squeezing it.
He eagerly dives back to his task, his tongue touching those sensitive places. Feeling the vibrations running through you as he hums in approval, you try and tighten your legs only to feel Guyās strong grip halting you. Compared to before, he's sped up considerably so, and his saliva offers the perfect friction as the obscene sounds echo around the room, mixing with your deep breaths. Guy inserts two finger into the tight space of your entrance.
āSo tight.ā He whispers between his ministrations, and your thighs clench as you let out a shy whine. Guy's fingers get to work to loosen you somewhat, and the presence of his fingers filling you so much on top of his tongueās magic sent a tingling feeling through your lower abdomen and legs.
āGuyā I thinkāā You begin to ramble out in panic and try to sit up, wanting to warn him before you accidentally squirt all over his face. āI'm gonnaāā
Guy doesn't even react to your words, the only sign he heard you being his grip tightening around you so you don't move as he speeds up his movements.
āWaitā Guyā I canāt hold itāā Your voice becomes desperate before your mind suddenly goes blank with ecstasy, shouting Guyās name, and you faintly recognise the feeling of yourself squirting. What you do not recognise however is Guy's tongue lapping up the fluid like a dog that has found water after experiencing extreme thirst. Your leg twitches in Guy's grip as he collects the final drops, licking his lips as if he's finished a gourmet meal. His jaw is completely soaked.
āThat any good?ā He asks with an overconfident grin, crawling up and kissing you. The taste of yourself on his lips feels so taboo. As much as you want to deny it, you're not sure if you've ever experienced bliss in such a complete form before.
āI sāpose so.ā You admit gruffly.
āAw, donāt humble me.ā The tone of Guyās voice is playful, he knows youāre lying. He stands, and you take the time to admire him in all his shirtless glory.
āTake a picture, itāll last longer.ā Guy throws out the tease so casually, and a part of you really would love to capture the moment permanently. You feel heat rush to your face and avert your gaze at being caught indulging, staring at the ceiling and admiring whatever shade of off-white it is. He huffs out a laugh, and shakes his head. āLittle late for beinā embarrassed, donāt you think?ā
a/n: i combined two silly requests together, enjoy :)
cw: reader is pregnant but referred to in gender-neutral terms, Guy has some awful names for a child, gn!reader
masterlist ao3 requests
PREVIEW:
Youāre due for delivery anytime now and Guy is due for a slap upside the head.
Guy Gardner/Pregnant!Reader
Youāve known him, worked with him, slept with him, and been married to him long enough to know when heās got a stupid idea.
There's something about the evil gleam in his eyes, the way his brows jump up under the shield of his bangs. The way heĀ neglectsĀ to say anything as he turns to you.Ā
Usually he advances forward with no hesitation, no preamble needed. When he gives youĀ thatĀ look, you know something bound to give you a headache is coming. And as of late, you already know what heās going to ask.Ā
When he turns to you across the landscape of the couch, you cut him off.Ā
āNo,Ā Guy.ā You watch as his brow drags down, his mouth droops in surly fashion.Ā
āYāaināt even heard it yet,ā he grumbles, though the smile is quick to return. āWhy dontcha give it a chance?āĀ
You regale him with dubious look. āJust like I gave Tank, Lizard and Blaze a chance?āĀ
āLizardās a cool fuckinā name,ā Guy chooses to miss the point spectacularly, gesturing to the hypothetical child you two will bear. The one that still germinates in your stomach and is giving you a hell of a hard time. Course they wouldātheyāre a Gardner.Ā
āYou have a boyāāāHe points at the swell of your stomach, āThey go by Lizard full time. You have a girlāā
āāWe shorten it down to Liz?ā You ask drylyāhis eyes light up with satisfaction as you repeat his reasoning.Ā
ā'Xactly.ā He crosses his arms. āSo, yāgonna hear my new idea?āĀ
āSure, Guy,ā you sigh heavily as you let yourself sink into the couch. āBut you owe me a foot rub.āĀ
āI do that shit for free, baby,ā He leers at youābut then heās down to brass tacks. Holds his hands out to you for proper emphasis. You try to keep your attention off the headache stewing on the horizon.Ā
āWhatcha think aboutĀ Ram?āĀ He asksāfrom the way his brows have totally disappeared, his smile is triumphantāhe clearly thinks this is a real winner. You continue to stare at your husband and wonder what possibly inspired you to let him impregnate you.Ā
āLike the animal?ā You ask in a monotone. He chuckles.Ā
āUh, if you want,ā he saysāconfirming that he was going to be a shill for a corporationāāāNice strong name. Uh, what the kids sayāgender-neutral and shit.āĀ
āRam,ā you repeat. He nods ebulliently, waiting for the approval heās certain will come.Ā
āWhat if we have twins?ā You ask, the thought arriving as quickly as your irritation has. To your disappointment, heās not deterred by this.Ā
āAlready thought'a that, honey,ā he gives you a toothy grin. āWe got twinsāRam anā Sam.āĀ
He holds out his hands in broad exemplary definition. āSo that way they rhyme and theyāre cool.āĀ
āBut Ram is significantly cooler than Samuel or Samantha.ā You reason, furrowing your brow at this. Part of you can't believe youāre actually humoring this conversationābut you have to know. To your surprise, Guy makes an admonitory noise at this, frowning at you.Ā
āThat wonāt be the full name,ā he disputes your point; you balk.Ā
āThen whatāll it be?ā You ask in bewilderment. Again, the smile returnsāand something plummets in your stomach.Ā
āSurface to Air Missile,ā he tells you. āWhat the fuck else would it stand for?āĀ
You consider homicide for a brief instantābut no, you need a ride to the hospital when you go into labor.Ā
Your baby is perfect. Heās got your eyes and Guyās hair, your ears and his noseāa perfect sleepy-eyed baby that doesn't cry or give you any trouble. John and Katma are the first to come by and pay visit, once youāre conscious enough to string a coherent sentence together.Ā
āHeās beautiful,ā John says as he beams fondly down at his new godsonāKatma brushes a gentle finger up the babyās cheek. āWhatās his name?āĀ
āForrest,ā you smile; John seems pleasantly surprised by the choice.Ā
āGood name.ā John saysāGuy looks at you with a smug, glib grin from where he sits on the couch.Ā
You donāt have the heart to tell them that Subaru Forrester will have a tough life when he grows up. For nowāyou just let them all admire your and Guyās son in this little blissful moment.Ā
see below for rules, donation links and other details!
How this works: donate to one of the links below, send me a picture that shows you sent the money (you do not have to include personal info and it will not be shared), and then tell me which LADS guy youād like to have a fic about!
Rules:
5 dollars USD donated = 500 word request. 10 dollars USD donated = 1000 word request.
Please send proof of donation with your request
No nsfw, Iām not comfortable writing it, all works will be sfw, at most suggestive
No hyper specific requests, I need a little wiggle room for creativity
Requests must include the name of 1 LADS guy youād like, if you want reader to be gender neutral or fem!reader, and a small prompt if you like
Please no scams, this is about charity and me wanting to help. Letās be kind to each other
Reader will be not be the gameās MC, and Caleb specifically will not include ālittle sisterā stuff
Donation links
Kofi
PayPal
please like and reblog to help spread! and please be patient, this is my first event and Iād really like to come together and make a difference! <3
see below for rules, donation links and other details!
How this works: donate to one of the links below, send me a picture that shows you sent the money (you do not have to include personal info and it will not be shared), and then tell me which LADS guy youād like to have a fic about!
Rules:
5 dollars USD donated = 500 word request. 10 dollars USD donated = 1000 word request.
Please send proof of donation with your request
No nsfw, Iām not comfortable writing it, all works will be sfw, at most suggestive
No hyper specific requests, I need a little wiggle room for creativity
Requests must include the name of 1 LADS guy youād like, if you want reader to be gender neutral or fem!reader, and a small prompt if you like
Please no scams, this is about charity and me wanting to help. Letās be kind to each other
Reader will be not be the gameās MC, and Caleb specifically will not include ālittle sisterā stuff
Donation links
Kofi
PayPal
please like and reblog to help spread! and please be patient, this is my first event and Iād really like to come together and make a difference! <3
froggi yaps -> i bombed my interview so badly today i really needed this comfort ;-; i feel like these kinda suck but this piece was kicking my butt so badly i just needed to get it out :p enjoy
Dick Grayson:
Dickās sleeping when you text him, the incessant buzzing on his nightstand cutting into the sleep he desperately needs. It had been a long night last night and he didnāt make it home until seven in the morning, going to bed even later than that.
Still, he forces his eyes open and rolls over, grabbing the phone in his hand. He blinks away sleep when he sees the messages are from you, one after the other, each increasingly more panicked.Ā
Heās on his feet in minutes when he reads them, tugging on the nearest clothes he can find and collecting his keys off his nightstand. Opening his phone to track your location, Dickās on the road in minutes.
Youāre sitting under a tree when he finds you, alone and overheating in the middle of a desolate trail just outside of Bludhaven. He calls your name before he approaches, shuffling carefully towards so as not to scare you.
āDick?ā You blink, exhausted from the heat.
He crouches at your side, pressing a hand to your forehead like youāre sick. He sighs, shaking his head and fighting the urge to hunt down your shitty boyfriend and give him a piece of his mind.
āFuck, he just left you here like this? Do you even have water?ā
You shake your head. āHe had the backpack,ā you explain. āSaid I was too slowā¦ā
Fuck, what an asshole. He never deserved you.
Dick helps you to your feet, keeping an arm around your waist to support you. Your steps are shaky, your breathing unevenāclear signs of dehydration.Ā
Itās a long trip back to the car, ending with Dick carrying you on his back. Youāre relieved when he finally sets you in the passenger seat, cranking the air conditioning for you.Ā
He passes you a water bottle from his cupholder. āHere, have this.ā
You drink half of it in one go, the water helping the dryness that has your throat swelling.
āHow are you feeling?ā He asks.
āTired, sad.ā You frown, āI feel dizzy.ā
Dick puts the car in drive, peeling away from the parking lot and driving back to the city. āYou probably will for a while, with how long you were in the heat.āĀ
Itās silent for a while, the exhaustion setting into your bones and a new sort of tiredness weighing over you. You rest your head against the door of the car, letting your eyes flutter closed.
āCome hang out with me, yeah?ā Dick finally breaks the silence. āNeed to make sure youāre okay.ā
You catch the undertone of it, the part that says: physically and emotionally.
You hum in agreement, letting yourself fall back asleep on the door of his car. Dick waits until heās sure youāre out cold before leaning over and rubbing a thumb across your cheek.
āDonāt worry, sweetheart,ā he mumbles more to himself than anything, āIāll take good care of you.ā
Jason Todd:
Jasonās busy when you call, knee deep in a group of goons in the way of your boss. Still, itās you calling him, and he doesnāt dare leave you waiting.
āHello?ā
You sniffle into the phone, the distant sounds of gunfire making you raise a brow. āJay?ā
He frowns, fighting his way through the men while talking to you like itās the most casual thing in the world. āAre you crying?ā
Itās a jumble of words that comes next, each one bleeding into the next and filled with sniffles. Jason strains to hear you through the comms piece in his helmet, the gunfire and sounds of violence almost enough to drown you out.
Still, he gets the gist of it. Fuck, heās going to lose the target. But he canāt just leave you there.
He sighs, āIāll be there in five.ā
Youāre pacing when Jason pulls up, soaking wet with the cold rain hiding the hot tears on your cheeks. If only the rain could hide the redness in your eyes and the way your lips have pulled into a pout.
Itās more than a twenty minute drive from where Jason was to the shitty, dingy bar your boyfriend abandoned you at. Jason made the drive in five, in the rain, on his motorcycle.
āT-thanks for coming,ā you sniffle out.
Jason looks around, forcing himself to take deep breaths despite the anger surging in his chest. āYou sure that assāheās not coming back?ā
You shake your head. āHe said weāre done.ā
Jason shakes his head, showing off the fresh red mark under his chin. You frown, reaching up to run your thumb across the bruised skin beneath his stubble. Heās ditched his Red Hood getup, dressed only in his usual cargo pants and a t-shirt. Raindrops slick over his exposed biceps.
āLet me take you home, alright?ā
You nod and then heās ushering you towards his bike, thrusting his spare helmet into your arms. You buckle it over your head, Jason turning around and tugging the strap to make sure itās tight.
You look at him through the open visor, blinking away the raindrops that cling to your skin. āJay?ā
āHm?ā
āDo you think you couldā¦stay with me for a bit?ā
And he knows he shouldnāt, that he has other things to do tonight, an obligation to himself and this city. āYeah,ā he says, āI can stay a while.ā
Itās hours later that youāre asleep on Jasonās lap, head resting on the meat of his thighs. He shouldāve left a while ago and yet, he canāt bring himself to go.Ā
Still, watching you lay like this in his arms, warm and dry from the rain your boyfriend left you in, anger still swirls in his stomach. How dare he leave you like that? You could've gotten mugged or hurt or worse, and the very thought has Jason clenching his jaw.
Yeah, heāll have to pay him a visit later.
Wally West:
Wallyās smile dies the minute he picks up the phone and hears you sniffling on the other end of the line. āHey, whatās going on?ā
Itās an unintelligible mess of words that follows, filled with choked sobs and occasional moments of silence. Somehow through it all, Wally manages to get the gist of it: you and your shitty boyfriend got into a fight on the way home, and he abandoned you at some gas station.
Alone. In the middle of the night. With nothing but your phone.
Hot rage sweeps through Wally and before he knows it, heās running.
One minute, youāre staring at the screen of your phone, sobbing hysterically. The next, Wally West is at your side, looking just as outraged as he is concerned.Ā
āHe did what?ā
Seeing your teary eyes and the pouty look on your face only makes him angrier. He clenches and unclenches his hands, forcing himself to breathe.Ā
The anger melts away when you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest, sobbing harder. āI donātāI donāt know what I did wrong.ā
Wally is careful to wrap his arms around you, pulling you flush with his body and kissing the top of your head. Itās been so long since heās gotten to hold you like this, since heās gotten to care for you, he selfishly drinks it in.
āLetās get you home, hm?ā
You sniffle, peeling your face back just enough to look at him. āI donāt want to be alone right now.ā
āMy place, then,ā he flashes his best reassuring smile, ādonāt worry, doll, Iāll take care of you.ā
-
Two hours later and youāre settled on the couch at Wallyās, dressed in his sweatpants and one of his t-shirts. After an hour, heād finally gotten you to stop crying and instead cuddle up with him on the couch.
Your boyfriend is yet to say anything, to even check in and make sure you didnāt get murdered. It leaves a bitter taste in Wallyās mouth but heād be lying if he said he didnāt feel a little hopeful, too.
Itās when you fall asleep that Wally snaps a picture of the two of you, your head nuzzled into the crook of his arm. He grins as he types, trying his best not to laugh while he drafts the message to your boyfriend.
He reads it over once before hitting send, nodding in satisfaction.
Donāt worry, Iāll clean up your mess.
Roy Harper:
Itās late and Roy wishes he was asleep, and instead, heās driving an hour away to some random highway where your boyfriendāhopefully soon to be exāabandoned you on the side of the road.
His hands are clenched tight on the wheel, thoughts racing a mile a minute. His foot is pressed harshly into the gas, each minute that passes only increases his anxiety. Heād asked you to stay on the phone with him but that was before your phone died and your location stopped updating.
He can only hope you listened to him and stayed put, and that no one else comes across you before he does.
Luck is on his side when he spots you pacing back and forth on the side of the road. His foot is on the brake immediately, slowing the car down to a stop just a few meters ahead of you.
You make a break for the car, settling into his passenger seat like itās somewhere you belong. And to Roy, it is.Ā
He frowns when he sees the tears in your eyes and the way youāre shaking from the cold night. āYou alright?ā
You sniffle, ābarely. Iām freezing my ass off.ā
He nods, flicking on your heated seat. He moreso meant the whole being abandoned in the middle of the night thing, but given your closed off demeanour, decides not to push it.
āI donāt understand what I did wrong,ā you say quietly.
Roy drops a hand from the wheel, gently squeezing your knee. āYou did nothing wrong, that asshole just never deserved you.ā Not like I do.
You blink. Maybe he has a point.
And now that heās started, Royās not sure he can stop. āWhat kind of man just abandons you, alone, in the middle of the night? Donāt you think you deserve more than that?ā
āRoyā¦ā
āSeriously, babe,ā the pet name slips out so easily that neither of you notice it, ādonāt you want to be with someone who loves you properly?ā
āRoy,ā you say again, more warning than anything.
āGod, I take much better care of you than he ever has.ā
āRoy!ā
He breathes heavily, the gravity of what he just said sinking in. The silence in the car is hot and tense, broken only by the crackling of the heat coming through his vents. Roy slows the car, pulling over to the side of the road.
For a moment, youāre worried he might leave you, too. But then heās grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him, touch equally scorching as it is delicate. Heās not even sure what heās doing until heās leaning in and brushing his lips over yours, the taste of your chapstick like an old friend.
āAll Iām saying,ā he says quietly, āis that you deserve someone who takes care of you. Okay?ā
āO-okay.ā
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thanks for reading & have a wonderful week /į > Ė <ć āĖā¹ā”
Do you think you can write more for Matt Murdock? I loved how you wrote him in "I'm your back up date now, okay"
If possible to request could you do a continuation of that, where the date goes really well thank you!
that Matt fic was for a one shot art trade with @shortcakelot for my upcoming bday but if you have any other ideas I will happily do itāMatt Murdock is uh. Having a marked effect on me
Because of the good turnout Iāll try to organize this event this weekend! If anyone is interested in participating as another writer please let me know!
When you get stood up, Matt Murdock is the man with a plan.
Matt Murdock/Reader
You manage to suppress the tears long enough to close the door to office behind you. Itās only when the lock shuts securely in the jamb, the final seal between you and the outside world, that you let the first wracking sob snuffle out of you.
And then, in the privacy of Murdock and Nelsonās Law, you feel like you can crumple against the door and cry. Thereās something about the muffled world outside, a city of people with problems far greater and larger than yours, that feel so far away. In here, you have the solitude at last to finally let it out, to let that hiccoughing sob free.
Itās late enough. Everyoneās gone home; Karen and Foggy walked out together, Matt said heād lock up and so he didāitās you who allowed yourself back into the closest sanctuary to home.
But when you hear a tumble of noise from down the hall, you find enough wherewithal within you to freeze. Give yourself enough composure to let the tear tracks dry on the landscape of your face as you straighten up, adrenaline running free-fall through the channels of your veins.
And the darkened hallway devoid of human life continues to yawn wider with another clatter of noise; somethingās fallen over. A gruntāmasculine in natureāchuffs through a door. Youāre too scared to move, too distant to tell which room it is.
Stupid, stupidāyou search the nearby reception desk for anything of formidable defense. The next best thing you find yourself wielding in awkward, inexperienced manner is a decorative paperweight; the glass-blown one Foggy got from Coney Island.
Something about the heft is reassuring to you as you make an idiotic decision and trail a shaky step in the direction of the sound.
āHello?ā You demand in a voice less impressive than you hoped it to be. āWhoās in here?ā
Another scuffle, a grunted oathāyou make another harangued step forwards as your mind races.
This is a not insignificant law officeāwhoās come in here to steal something? One of Fiskās goons? One of Spider-Manās multitudinous enemies looking for testimony thatāll put them away for good? Bullseye; or even worseāFrank Castle.
āThis is private property,ā you continue, āYou need to leaveāā
The door to the leftāMr. Murdockās doorāopens to reveal a silhouette obscured by shadows. And you make your best game throw and huck the paperweight as hard as you can.
āWhoa!ā Shouts a very familiar voice, in parallel with the wet slap of flesh connecting with previously lobbed objectāand you gasp aloud.
What was once fear transforms to a more different type of horror as the figure emerges from the shadow. And something in you wonders if youāll still be in possession of employment tomorrow.
āMrāāāYou feel stifled for words as you watch one of your bosses appear, illuminated as if by saintly glow of fluorescent lightingāāMr. Murdock, oh my GodāIām so sorryāā
āNo harm, no foul,ā Mr. Murdock smiles gamely as he approaches you, his cane navigating the glossy floor elapsing space between you both.
āSee?ā To your imminent surprise, he holds up a hand to reveal the intact paperweight, your failed weapon of choice.
You barely have opportunity to marvel at how it has remained intact, much less how you didnāt murder your boss, before another thought surfaces to the foreground of your mind.
āWhat are you doing here, Mr. Murdock?ā You ask in what is best classified as shock. āI thought everyone went homeāā
āI apologize,ā Matt explains, giving a grimace in the general direction of the paperweight he clutches, āI forgot some files that I needed to store away, so I had to come back.ā
āOh,ā you say, deflating in worry that is now giving marked way to embarrassment. āI thought you wereāā
āA thief?ā He asks with good-natured smile your way. And now you simply feel foolish as you accept the paperweight he returns back your way to replace.
āEither that or Spider-Man,ā you answer, āI canāt tell which one is worse.ā
Mr. Murdock chuckles, a sight that looks welcome on that handsome face of hisāsomething heartens within you at this. At least, until he cocks his head at you and makes inquiry youāre bereft of answering.
āWhat are you doing here?ā He asks, and itās here that thereās a touch of confusion to his face as his eyebrows join together. āCouldāve sworn that you had a date tonight.
And itās here that youāre left at a loss for words, your answer far too bitter to wish to provide. It sits on the palate of your tongue, acrid and biting, a flush of emotion torrential as it courses through you. Youāre only glad that Mr. Murdock canāt see you now, see the gloom that settles over your face at his reminder.
You know that youāre taking far too long to reasonably provide an answer. That youāre leaving your boss in the dark both figuratively and literally. So when you speak, your voice is of halting reticence, your answer slow and sluggish to provide.
āHe stood me up.ā You return. And perhaps itās the emptiness of the office surrounding you both that makes it sound so tinny, so hollow, so lifeless. You direct your gaze to the floor, intent to avoid the stare that Mr. Murdock cannot provideāconfessing this to him is damning enough.
When he returns a response to your answer, youāre relieved that heās not surprised. False platitudes wouldnāt help you right now. His intonation is flat, inquisitive: almost as if heās angry on your behalf, his temper barely kept in check for your own personal welfare.
āHow do you know?ā Mr. Murdock asks, and you donāt think heās ever spoken in such level directive. But the question is another knife in the back that youāre not willing to bear: you confess your truth to the floor once more.
āWellāāāYou swallow back the tears that youāre now certain he must have heardāāāHe was supposed to be there at seven. And now itāsāā
You donāt even want to look at the clock on the wall, ticking its metronomic rhythm for the two of you to listen to in mocking progression of the day. The tapestry of stars that yawns outside of the window explains enough, the hubbub of a city that is settling down for bed concludes the rest of the story.
āMuch later, huh?ā He asks, and thereās a gentility that you donāt expect. But it hurts all the same; this is why you decide to avoid providing a response. Youāre unsure how steady your ability to verbalize is right now.
The two of you stand there, you regarding the floor, he sharing the privilege of your close proximity. And thankfully, rather than expect you to take the lead, heās generous enough to do it himself.
You always did like Mr. Murdockās voice, and this time his voice is such a warm, brandy-amber caramelized note as he speaks to you.
āWell, his loss.ā He asserts with such certainty you usually only hear him wield in the courtroom. This is why you pull your gaze up from the linoleum to the determination resting on his expression.
āI don't know what heās thinking standing up someone fantastic like you.ā He continues.
This is when you finally vocalize the most appropriate sound in this conversation: a shy, embarrassed chuckle. Itās another small mercy that heās not able to hear the uptick of your heart pounding in rapidly increasing speed.
āYou donāt have to flatter me, Mr. Murdock.ā You huff through your teeth, trying to avoid acknowledging the heat underneath your cheeks.
āIām notāāāAnd thereās something in you that wants to so desperately believe this, even in the malaise of the rejection you just faced. As you watch the way that the half-assured smile establishes itself on his face, makes bearings before awkwardly growing more in endearing manner.
He clears his throat, the fluorescent lighting of the office making prismed reflection off of his lenses. āIf I wanted to flatter someone, it would be the debt collector when they come by tomorrow.ā
The laugh that you make is genuine; the first one that you havenāt had to force since your terrible experience. It feels warm and welcome after the cold dearth of emotion that youāve been submerged by.
āThanks.ā You breathe. You clear your throat. When did the temperature so swiftly rise in the office? It seems of paramount importance to continue the conversation before you lose any coherent train of thought you have.
āIāI guess I just didnāt want to head home first,ā You offer nervously into the comfortable silence, āSo I thought Iād head by the office first.ā
Youāve seen the look on Mr. Murdockās face before, the very one he bears now. Of being caught in a precipice of emotion, articulating in his mindās eye the path that lies before him.
Youāve just never had the opportunity to see it levied against yourself rather than someone he cross-witnesses in court. But the way that he runs the pad of his thumb under the chisel of his jaw, the way that his brow knits together as he thinks: somethingās up.
āI see.ā He continues in enigmatic delivery. āWell, maybe it was a stroke of good luck.ā
You blink, because as of right now, disregarding the slight reprieve, you most certainly do not feel like youāve felt any stroke of good luck.
You frown in bemusement up at him. āHowās that work out?ā
āWell,ā He beams down to you, proffering his cane out to articulate his point, āI have a free evening and you seem to have no plans.ā
At this, his free hand turns out to you, palm out, upturned in extension of olive branch. āHow about we make something of it?ā
You hear, but you donāt comprehend. You understand, but you donāt want to believe. This is why when you ask, your voice is still clouded with the worry that youāll be going two for two on dates tonight.
āWhat do you mean, Mr. Murdock?ā You ask, and that mysterious smile has yet to fade from those full lips. In fact, they seem to have grown rather exponentially instead.
āI remember you mentioned you wanted to try out that jazz bar,ā He inclines his head so that he can direct those sightless eyes your way, beyond the plane of his glasses, āWith the nice mocktails.ā
You nod along, still unsure of the proposal that heās levying to you; ever the orator, he gladly continues.
āAnd I happen to know that if you walk in with a person with a caneāāāAt this, he holds up his only weapon to navigate the storied streets of New YorkāāāYouāll be given ADA accessible seating right at the front.ā
He leans in as though to share conspiratorial secret with you, though the only people that occupy the space are the both of you. His smile now seems positively roguish.
āAndāI hear that thereās a Miles Davis tribute tonight.ā At this, those teeth finally come on display, and how beautiful they are as the rest of him. But you canāt resist yours either; they rise to the forefront in parallel with him, a blooming wellspring of emotion finally allowed to rise free.
āMr. MurdockāāāIf youāre drawing closer into his gravitational orbit, neither of you take care to make mention of itāāāAre you suggesting we use your disability to our advantages?ā
Your boss offers idle shrug that seems to neither confirm nor deny.
āWhen the pros are so far and few betweenāāāHe offers the cane up as visual reminderāāāAnd I want to make sure I see a real, genuine smile on your face tonightāā
And at this, you find it very hard to even try and conceal yours nowāāāI find it necessary to milk it as much as we can.ā
Maybe the tears will return again, but for more positive, bountiful reason. You thank your stars one final time that Mr. Murdock remains unaware of this.
āThat's really sweet of you, Mr. Murdock.ā You finally say when youāve summoned enough wherewithal to be able to verbalize clearly. āThankāthank you. That sounds wonderful.ā
And he doesnāt have to be a mind-reader to know that thereās nothing but sincerity in your voice. When the shoal of heat your body makes is so close to the oasis of his own.
āCall me Matt.ā Matt grins at you, offering the crook of his elbow for you to take hold upon. āAnd mocktails are on me.ā
He starts to lead you to the door, an impressive feat all things considered; but, you suppose heās owned the place long enough to have careful internal record of its roadmap.
Something wicked inspires itself and must make itself spoken. You donāt feel brave enough to tell him to his face, though he canāt seeāso instead, you direct it to the doorknob you open with a careful twist of your wrist.
āCarefulāāāYou giggleāāāAfter a night of non-alcoholic beverages and smoky room jazz, just make sure you donāt catch feelings for me.ā
Youāre teasing. But youāre also not. Good thing Matt will never know.
āIāll make sure to let you know.ā He returns in rich baritoneāand itās your cowardice that prevents you from seeing the smile that plays on his face. The one that holds all the answers that you have yet to know.
āWhy donāt you lead the way?ā He asksāand so you do.
I should work on MGS ideas but Iāve had an idea. Due to all the damage and rising death tolls in Venezuela, Iād like to try an event to raise money for relief funds! And Iāve been thinking about a certain LADS character a lot, So hereās my question:
Would you donate 5 dollars to relief funds in exchange for a 500 word Drabbles about Valko?
Yes!
No
Voting ended onJul 6
Please vote and reblog so I can get some good data! Iād love to make this possible! And Iād love if other people joined me in sharing our love for our wolfy guy while helping others! š
Toshinori Yagi is obsessed with youā¦you have no idea
warnings/content: fem!reader, just general awkwardness between Toshinori and reader, a little something for @twentytomidnight go check out her stuff, itās always sooo good!
donāt forget to like and reblog! <3
How many people could say they have one of the top heroes pining after them? Well not you, but thatās just because you have absolutely no idea itās happening. Youāre actually the only person to not see it from a mile away.
Toshinori Yagi never even considered himself especially subtle about his feelings, even in his true form itās hard to hide the blushes and sweat on his gaunt face. Add to that how even more noticeable every expression is when heās in his hero persona and the fact his coworkers and students are also heroes trained to be observant of things? Letās just say everyone at UA was wondering when heād finally confess to the new hire. After all, even if heās a little older, heās still a really sweet, nice guy, youād have to be crazy to not want to go out with him!
Of course youāre not crazy, just ridiculously oblivious.
Right now, he felt like a bit of a creep, peeking through the break room door at you eating your lunch. He wasnāt trying to be creepy though, goodness no! He just couldnāt stop his heart from beating fast and palms sweating as he watched you smile at something on your phone. The former number one hero looked more like a shy schoolboy than the great All Might right now, but he couldnāt help it! Youāre far too cute to him, he didnāt even stop staring when Hizashi Yamada passed by, whistling the wedding march obnoxiously loud. Goshā¦he was totally a goner for you.
āUm hello Miss (y/n)ā¦a-are those potato chips?ā He says once he finally musters his courage and approaches you, nervously wringing his hands.
āOh yeah! Want one?ā You smile back at him, clueless to how he stumbled awkwardly over every word.
His fingers tremble a little as he reaches for the chip you held out for him, cheeks growing more rosy when your fingers brushed. Oh no, youād definitely notice how much he was shaking right? Nope, you just smiled before eating a chip of your own, leaving Toshinori to chew slowly on the potato chip.
āThat was goodā¦thank you,ā he says with a soft smile, like you gave him something much more meaningful than a piece of junk food. Well, this was it, he had to say something else. After taking a deep breath, he added āUm, I was wonderingā¦if m-maybe youād like to eat together..?ā
āOf course you can sit with me! What are friends for?ā You say back with a grin, blissfully pulling out a chair for him.
Well, that didnāt go exactly how he planned. Regardless, Toshinori sat down, mentally kicking himself for not being more direct. He fidgets a bit, watching you tilt your head curiously at him. Wait, maybe youāre catching on!
āHey whereās your food?ā You ask, glancing between him and the table in confusion.
Oh no. His face grows even warmer, ears turning red as he opens and closes his mouth a few times. How could he seriously forget his lunch bag? Well, obviously he was distracted, thinking about how cute you are, how much he wants to just squeeze you in a hug and kiss all over your face andā¦no no focus!
āUm I-I justā¦Iām still deciding what to eat! You know, sometimes I get so busy I forget to pack lunch!ā He bluffs, rubbing the back of his head nervously, messy hair ruffling even further.
Standing abruptly, he moves to one of the vending machines near your table, clumsily pressing the buttons. He really should eat more than just some trail mix, but he doesnāt want to give himself more chances to mess up. Youāre watching him, smiling a little to soothe whatever is causing him anxiety.
āI get that, but make sure to eat something good! We canāt have the kids seeing the mighty All Might distracted by hunger!ā You tease lightly, giving him a wink that would look goofy to anyone else.
Toshinori nearly crushes the trail mix package in his hand when he sees that wink. Itās like youāre trying to give him a heart attack. Your laugh too, it makes him feel like a million butterflies are fluttering against his ribs. He just wants to hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life, and he plans to make that a reality.
āMiss (y/n)ā¦ā he says suddenly, voice no longer shaking, as if he was facing down a city level threat.
You turn in your chair, pausing mid-scroll online. The bewilderment grows when he suddenly kneels by your chair, your eyebrows shooting up as you stare in shock. He looks so serious, it almost makes you wonder if heās upset with you, until he looks up with wide eyes.
āMiss (y/n), will you please accompany me to dinner tonight? Iād love nothing more than to take you wherever your heart desires, and if this makes you uncomfortable, Iāll back off immediately. I just need your answer desperatelyā¦please?ā He speaks softly, hands clasped around one of your own, and you swear his eyes are shimmering and wet as he looks up at you.
It takes you a moment to process, but Toshinori looking like a kicked puppy makes you remember you need to speak.
āIād love toā¦ā you answer quietly, still a little stunned that he was asking you for a date.
His shoulders sag with relief, a soft smile crossing his lips as he gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go.
āThank youā¦I promise to make it a special night.ā He says sweetly, jumping to his feet.
He has so much to do now, reservations, buying flowers, ironing his best suitā¦itās almost overwhelming. On his way out of the break room though, he feels a flicker of doubt, wondering if youāre sure. When he peeks back, he spies the little grin on your face, the way youāre covering your face a little and barely restraining a noise of glee. Smiling, he heads out, feeling plenty reassured.
Hey everyone! While working on some drafts I wanted to do an interest check. Would you be interested in reading Metal Gear Solid x reader content? (also comment if you have characters in mind!)
Age verification has never been and never will be for "the safety of children." It is to collect personal data, that could be used in nefarious ways, and mass surveil.
Please research and resist your countries bills to pass similar legislation. This isn't fear mongering but if you take a look at what is happening in the world right now-- with AI, palantir, and ICE databases, you'll understand why this is a terrible idea.
warnings/content: just Dabura with his baby, no mentions of pregnancy or any implied relationship. I got inspired and thought it would be cute
donāt forget to like and reblog ! <3
ā¢ Despite appearing imposing and being one of the strongest, Dabura is a gentle man. Heās at his most gentle with his little bundle of joy
ā¢ He holds his child gently in his large hands, his gaze always curious as they squirm about. They often stare at each other, both contemplative beings
ā¢ I imagine Simurian babies, especially ones from the Deskunte tribe, are small, but grow sort of like seals babies, drinking/eating a lot since they have a long way to grow.
ā¢ So Daburaās got a chubby little baby, and he canāt help poking their little cheeks and gently squeezing chubby limbs. Heās not used to such fragility and softness
ā¢ He carries his baby with him as often as possible. Usually in a baby carrying wrap so baby stays close to his chest. If he has to put baby down, heāll only hand them over to someone he really trusts, like his sister or significant other
ā¢ Dabura is a very gentle father, lets his baby gum at him, climb on him, you name it
ā¢ He never baby talks, always speaks in a calm, even tone. His baby is just as much of a fast learner as him, so he tells them about everything
ā¢ Encourages his baby a lot. āYes, youāre a fine warrior. Your aim with your bottle gets better every dayā is one of the many things heāll say to his fussy baby
ā¢ I think Deskunte babies grow their horns in when they start teething, and Dabura patiently soothes his baby through all the crying and upset tummies
ā¢ When his baby gets their horns in a little more, he playfully butts horns with them
ā¢ Sends people photos of his baby. āYuka, here is my childā heāll send in a message randomly, like it isnāt the twentieth time heās sent an image of his giggling baby to Yuka or anyone else he knows
yeah takaba would show you these unfunny grainy 4 pixel ig reels with that one audio āohohoho no no noā the one with that loud ass laugh on full volume and then expect u to laugh too šš
PLSSKSKSKSK he so would. Heād make some of them too and be really proud of them
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