💚Lottie Matthews SFW Alphabet💚

💚Read the NSFW Alphabet here!💚

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Warnings: Nope! All safe/fluff, mention of alcohol though

Word Count: 2,278

A/N: Hello Loves! Back again with more for Lottie! This time it's her SFW alphabter! As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!💚

Lottie Matthews Tag List: @elliesjoints

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-💚-

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Lottie does what I call quiet affection. She’s not into extravagance or making a huge display out of things and she never has. She prefers keeping your love private, but don’t mistake that for her keeping you secret! On the contrary, she’s very upfront about her marital status with others, it's just not all out and in your face. Her love languages are acts of service and touch for sure. She’s always got a hand on you in some way when she can help it and its very common to come home to her having done or actively doing a chore for you that she knows youve been dreading

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As an adult, she doesn't seem like the best friend type. But as a teenager, she was the classic outgoing girl's best friend. She loved doing each other's nails, watching corny movies late at night with popcorn, and having sleepovers. She loves those moments of girlhood but craves them still as an adult. If she did make an adult best friend, in some way I think she’d try and reclaim and relive that feeling, as childish as it might make her feel

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Lottie is a huge cuddler. She loves being tangled up in you, face to face so she can press you into her chest and she can rest her chin on top of your head. She loves snuggling up under blankets with you to watch tv or a movie ans sneakily sliding her hand up your top

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Lottie adores domestic life. She loves mundane tasks like cooking and cleaning, especially when she can do those tasks for you. She enjoys the praise she gets and the relaxation she can feel in your body from having done a task for you. She doesn’t like living alone, so moving in together would be suggested and welcomed quite early. She loves sharing her space with you. She’s the type to want to go the whole ten miles. Living together, getting married, and having kids. She wants to give her kids some of the childhood wonder she worries she missed out on

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I think she’d be shattered. I genuinely don’t know how she’d do it because I see her as someone as an adult who’s so careful with dating, that she’s only getting into a serious relationship when she feels she’s found the one. If she felt like she had to leave, it would likely be because she worried she was weighing you down. There would be a lot of tears and drama and she’d feel awful, but she firmly believes in the phrase “If you love something, let it go”

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

This lady wants to put a ring on your finger so badly! I think she dreamed of a rustic farmhouse wedding as a teenager with all her closest friends and family, and now she envisions that with you both in white, out by her little part of the lake. I could see it taking some time though. She wouldn't want to rush into things and scare you off. She seems like the type to wait till you show obvious interest in big-life changing decisions that she can’t misconstrue, like getting married or having kids

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Lottie is just the most tender girl. She’s so fragile with every touch like she’s afraid of breaking whatever’s in her hands, you included. Sometimes her touch is so soft it feels like she’s only hovering over your skin. You have to remind her that you aren't going to fade away or disappear and she can hold onto you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Her hugs are warm and enveloping like she’s wrapping you up in a blanket or a bubble made just for the two of you. She gets especially huggy when she’s tired or drunk

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

She tries to wait till you say it first but slips up and ends up saying it first. She says it very casually ans naturally too, likely after laughing at some corny joke you make without thinking about it. It takes her a moment to realize she even said it at all, but before she can worry and possibly take it back you assure her you love her too

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I mentioned it in a headcanon request but Lottie is a self-pity type of jealous. She feels very secure in her relationship with you, but if before you established it and she sees someone flirting with you or she’s got something impairing her cognitive thinking skills (best example, she's drunk) she becomes a mopy baby, keeping you away not because she’s mad at you but she’s pitying herself

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Like everything Lottie does, there's a warm tenderness behind every one of her kisses. She loves kissing your hands and fingers, or holding onto your hips tight as she kisses your lips, smiling at the taste of you. She loves kissing your nose and the corners of your smile, as well as your thighs, collarbones, and neck. Any exposed skin she can get her hands on she’ll kiss you there, no questions asked

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

She’s great with kids! She loves just listening to them talk about the magical worlds that they come up with. I think had she not had all the trauma from the crash, in another life she became an elementary school teacher, maybe teaching between 4th and 6th graders

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Lottie is often up first because she’s got things to do, but she always leaves the coffee maker on for you and oftentimes gets some chores done around the house before you get up and she has to start getting to work. On weekends she likes to gently wake you up and bribe you with making breakfast

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

She loves listening to music while cooking dinner, often distracting you to dance and nearly burning whatever you might be cooking because she's just too infatuated with you and your laugh. She also enjoys late-night reading in bed with her glasses on while you cuddle up beside her. Her free hand often trails over your stomach and your side so that she can feel your breathing even out as you fall asleep beside her

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Lottie wouldn’t tell you a lot about the wilderness, at least not in detail. But I think she’d reveal details about her life pre-crash very freely. But her teen years during and post-crash are somewhat of a blur. Once a heavy level of trust is established between the two of you, I think she’d be a lot more open to talking about it, but only when you’re alone ans something reminds her of something that happened out there. She wants you to know what triggers her, what she did out there because she wants to be herself with you and be accepted and taken in full as she is, but that’s extremely hard out of her fear of rejection. It would take quite some time and trial and error, but overall, she feels like one of not the more open out of the yellowjackets when it comes to their time in the wilderness

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

She’s extremely patient, especially with you. They’re a very strong line of communication between the two of you, so it’s very hard to upset one another. However, if she’s already stressed, small things that other people do can tend to set her off. It’s pretty easy to catch these triggers, but settling her down again when she’s upset can be a challenge. She always feels bad after getting upset with someone but you assure her it’s alright end encourage her to apologize and communicate what she may have been feeling

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

Lottie’s mind is a steal trap. She remembers absolutely everything without even trying, but she doesn’t brag about it. She hopes that you don’t notice it

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

She often fondly thinks about watching you in her garden, admiring all her different plants as the sun shone down on you from above, illuminating the color in your cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes. At that moment, she realized just how beautiful she truly found you

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

She’s protective, but not in the way that she’ll get physically violent or aggressive with someone who’d bother you. She’s more concerned with getting you out of a bad situation than interfering with the perpetrator if that makes sense. She’d rather take you away and make sure you're alright because of your her priority. Not some asshole who felt the need to bother you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, and everyday tasks?)

Lottie seems like a huge tryhard to me, so she’s gonna try in everything romantically because she wants you both to be satisfied to your fullest in every aspect of her relationship, so if there's something you want, she’ll attempt to achieve it to the best of her capability. But she prefers the small things, like taking her time doing a task for you, or when you try cooking something new for you both or coming home to a new bouquet that you picked from the garden that afternoon

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

She’s got a nasty habit of overworking herself, especially into the night. She often wakes up in the night when she’s overwhelmed or stressed and you need to pull her from her computer or the kitchen and back to bed before she wears herself out

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

She’s more concerned than you might think. Of course, she’s one to embrace the unique beauty that comes with age, however, sometimes when she notices a few more grey hairs than she expected or new wrinkles forming on her face it can get to her and she can grow concerned. You always tell her that she's always beautiful, even more so with age and she finds comfort in that

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

She hates to admit it, but she can be quite clingy. She doesn't like being apart for long and is at her most content when you’re within arms reach of her. Of course, she understands a need for time apart or if you want time for yourself, and that's something she’s willing to work on, but she adores you and at the very least wants to know how your day has been. She always calls if you're apart for a day to check in with you

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I mentioned it before but she’s a big reader. She loves getting her information from books and it's quite common to find her curled up under a blanket in her free time, book in hand with a cup of tea sat beside her, her reading glasses sliding down her nose. But she’s the kind of reader that highlights and annotates her books, regardless of what they’re about. She just likes being able to flip to where she was and read sections to you without having to go on a wild goose chase to find them

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

She’s one of those people with the cilantro gene and she hates it, insisting that it tastes like soap. She’s not usually picky with food, but if she tastes cilantro it’s an absolute no

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Lottie twitches in her sleep and she sleep mumbles. She’s very clingy and always has a hand on you when she’s asleep, but she’s an active dreamer and will murmur things under her breath when she’s out cold. Often, when she’s not having nightmares she’ll say all kinds of sweet things. It's very sweet when she takes naps on the couch with you, her head in your lap while you read. She'll hum and smile to herself when you run her fingers through her hair and she’ll nuzzle into your leg. You know shes dreaming about you then

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saberlight1

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this genuinely has me in tears

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saberlight1

3 years ago

𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

headcanons.

DATING EDDIE MUNSON ; headcanons depicting what it would be like to date our beloved boy, eddie munson <3 .

fics.

THE NICKNAME GAME ; when you teasingly call eddie out for calling you ‘dude’ after having his tongue down your throat a mere five minutes earlier, your boyfriend spends the rest of your time together trying to come up with a better, more suitable nickname for you. ( coming soon ! )

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series.

misc.

main masterlist | stranger things masterlist

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saberlight1

2 years ago

— who i write for

disclaimer: most of my stories are fem!reader, but i will write gender neutral. i write angst, fluff, and smut—i will write about both female and male characters. i am mostly comfortable with writing anything, so don’t be afraid to send in whatever you’d like.

masterlist

arcane —

jinx / powder

caitlyn kiramman

viktor

mel madarda

ekko

vander

silco

jayce talis

supernatural —

dean winchester

sam winchester

castiel

the hunger games —

peeta mellark

finnick odair

katniss everdeen

haymitch abernathy

lucy gray baird

johanna mason

billy the kid —

billy bonney

jesse evans

harry potter —

remus lupin

sirius black

james potter

lily potter

bellatrix lestrange

blaise zabini

tom riddle

regulus black

yellowjackets —

lottie matthews

natalie scatorccio

taissa turner

shauna shipman

van palmer

travis martinez

jackie taylor

red dead redemption —

arthur morgan

sadie adler

john marston

charles smith

karen jones

star wars —

anakin skywalker

padme amidala

ahsoka tano

luke skywalker

leia organa skywalker

the last of us —

ellie williams

joel miller

tess servopoulos

dina phantasmagoria

jesse jeon

the walking dead —

maggie rhee

rick grimes

daryl dixon

shane walsh

michonne grimes

glenn rhee

rosita espinosa

negan smith

tara chambers

king ezekiel

sasha williams

magna

marvel —

wanda maximoff

pietro maximoff

natasha romanoff

yelena belova

bucky barnes

tony stark

scott lang

steve rogers

frank castle

bruce banner

ava ‘ghost’ starr

loki laufeyson

king valkyrie

sam wilson

marc spector

matt murdock

miles morales

miguel o’hara

hobie brown

peter parker

game of thrones / house of the dragon —

daemon targaryen

rhaenyra targaryen

laena velaryon

jon snow

harwin strong

alicent hightower

sansa stark

helaena targaryen

criston cole

jacaerys velaryon

daenerys targaryen

euphoria —

rue bennett

jules vaughn

elliot hill

lexi howard

fezco o’neill

maddy perez

chris mckay

daisy jones and the six —

daisy jones

warren rhodes

graham dunne

eddie loving

camila dunne

karen sirko

outer banks —

jj maybank

john b routledge

kiara carrera

pope heyward

sarah cameron

cleo grant

shameless —

carl gallagher

fiona gallagher

lip gallagher

veronica fisher

kevin balls

svetlana yevgenivna

more to come!

I HATE YOU MASTERLIST

[mini series]

summary: things get pretty heated, in more ways than one, between you and elliot, who you absolutely loath.

fandom: euphoria

parings: elliot x f reader

warnings: smut, swearing, drug and alcohol use

smut: *

PART ONE *

PART TWO *

PART THREE *

completed

351 notes View Post

saberlight1

1 year ago

the red means i love you — frank castle

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: violence! like a lot of violence.. and detailed accounts of said violence, reader goes insane, mentions of murder, trauma, reader is a past widow for the red room, Y/N usage, kidnapping, established relationship, fluff, standard the punisher warnings.

authors note: hii theree! so this one is kind of insane, i may have went just a tad bit overboard, but y’know. thank you anon for this request that this fic is based on! this story is heavily based on the song, ‘the red means i love you’ by madds buckley, so give it a listen if you’d like. much love to you all, i hope you all enjoy this !

masterlist

You panted, your hand pulling the machete out of the last man’s chest. Your vision was still hazy, and you didn’t exactly feel like you were in your body.

But, that’s how you always felt when you killed.

As you gathered your bearings, your eyes began to dart around the room— and you realized how many men you had just taken out.

“Motherfucker,” You groaned as the pain began to set in due to the knife that was currently in your thigh. One of them must of done it when you were distracted, and your adrenaline was far too high for you to register it.

You no longer had that problem, it hurt like a bitch. But, you’ve had worse— a lot worse, and you could handle it. So you did was you were trained to do: push the emotions and pain away get the damn job done.

You had to. For Frank.

You see, he was taken by God knows who. You and Frank had no shortage of enemies, so you weren’t exactly sure who you were even invading, but you didn’t care. You knew they had Frank.

You were getting him back. You didn't care how many lives you had to take, you would do it all without second thought.

One of them had his sawed-off shotgun, they tried to shoot you with it. So you knew he was here. You just didn’t know exactly where.

And you’d go through hell and back to get to him.

So with a sharp inhale, you began to walk over to one of your victims, snatching the shotgun from his cold grip. A new sense of rage washed over you when you held the cold metal in your hands— they tried to take Frank from you.

You couldn’t let that stand.

Anger flooded your bloodstream as you began to stalk over to the hallway in front of you, cocking the shotgun along the way. You looked damn insane—you were covered in blood, a knife sticking out your thigh, your machete in one hand and Frank’s shotgun in the other.

One thing was for sure: you were out for fuckin’ blood.

You kicked open the first door you saw with your good leg, and inside were 3 men. Before they could even get a chance to react, you let the first round of bullets fly at one of them, the man dead instantly.

You narrowed your eyes at the two remaining men, putting the machete in your belt, you cocked the shotgun and aimed directly towards them. “Where the fuck is Frank.”

“I–I don’t know what you’re talking about,” One of the men stuttered out.

You scoffed, shooting that same man in the shin. “You think I’m fuckin’ playin’ around? I said, where the fuck is he?! What did you do with Frank?!” You shouted angrily, cocking the gun once more.

The man cried out, falling to his knees as his partner put his hands up in surrender. “He’s in the building..” He murmured, but you could see the man you shot reaching for the gun that the other had so obviously in the back of his pants.

Rolling your eyes, you shot the man who was still unharmed in the head. “Fuckin’ useless. I’ll find him myself.” You muttered to mainly yourself before grabbing your machete once more and stomping over to the last one.

“No, no, no!” He begged, backing away as far as he could from you. “Killing me won’t do anything. You’ll never get through all of us. You and Castle are as good as dead,” He spat and you only gave a sinister smile in return before you dove the machete into his chest.

After he was dead, you took your machete and wiped it clean of the blood before storing it back in your belt. You walked out the room without another thought as you continued your walk down the hallway, Frank’s shotgun tight in your grasp as you pointed it for precaution.

The next room you walked into contained 5 men, and then 3 after you let your itchy trigger finger take over.

3 guns were pointed at you in a instant, and you smirked in delight. "Drop them now!" He nodded towards your weapons. With a smirk still on your face, you let your machete clattered to the ground, but still kept Frank's shotgun in your hand. If you were going to die, you wanted it to happen with at least something that tied to Frank.

Staring them all down, you tried to wait for one of them to make the first strike— but eventually you got bored.

You hit one of the men over the head with the shotgun as you kicked one of the other one’s knee in. Without thinking, you grabbed the knife that was still painfully lodged in your thigh and pulled it out-- causing a sharp roar of pain to leave your lips. And with a menacing stare, you used that very same knife to slash the third man's throat.

In a flash of motions you turned to the next man and shoved the knife into his throat, causing him to stumble back with fearful eyes before dropping dead.

That left the last one that you practically bitch-slapped with the gun. He stared at you with wide, rage filled eyes before he grabbed you by your neck, throwing you into the table next to you. Your now open wound on your thigh got caught on a nail on the way, only tearing it open further. A cry of pure pain left your lips at the act, but you recovered quickly, turning to the man with a evil glare.

You let out a yell as you tackled him to the floor, letting all of your anger out as you brutally laid punch after punch to his face until he was unrecognizable. You let out another broken cry as you left one last hit to his bloodied face.

Ragged breaths left your lips as came back down to reality, shakily standing up. Your knuckles were bruised and cracked, and you knew it would hurt like a bitch later, but as of now, you really didn't care. It would all be worth it in the end. So, without another thought you grabbed your machete and the shotgun and headed out the room.

There was only one room left. It was at the very end of the hallway, and you silently prayed Frank was in there. At this point, after all the people you had just killed and fought— you were fucking tired, and quite frankly; fed the fuck up.

You cocked the gun with nothing in your brain other than bloodlust and kicked open the door harshly. “Where the fuck is he?!” You bellowed as you stormed in, gun raised. You had tunnel vision, seeing nothing over than the targets before you.

8 or 9 men were scattered around the room, and before you knew it bullets were flying everywhere. With wide eyes you dove down for cover behind a fallen table, and on the way down you were grazed by several bullets. Your hand flew up to the blood you felt trickling down your ribs, a low groan leaving your lips. You fought tears of pain as you pulled yourself together, reminding yourself of the goal: Get to Frank.

“Come out, now!” One of them yelled, and it only fueled your anger further.

“Fine.” You growled, standing up and shooting the first two men in front of you. Standing up, you ran to the side of the wall where their bullets couldn’t hit you. You let out a small laugh to yourself— you had to admit, you kind of missed this.

The chaos of it all.

You were raised in the chaos of this— you were brought up in the Red Room, killing people all around the globe. Yelena Belova, one of your fellow past widows, had broken you out some time ago and you tried to give the life up, but it seemed it was in your DNA.

Who were you to fight that?

You shook the thought away just as quickly as it arrived— you had more pressing issues right now.

You pulled the pistol out of your boot, peaking around the corner and picking off 3 men, leaving now 4.

“You fuckin’ crazy bitch!” One of them roared, running at you with a dagger.

“Fuck off!” You screamed back, blocking his attempted strike by grabbing his wrist and twisting his arm, the man now yelling out in pain. He dropped the dagger that was clutched in his hand, while you caught with your free hand, not hesitating to plunge it into his heart.

“Y/N?!” You heard that familiar voice yell, causing you freeze. His call made a soft smile spread across your features, but at the same time ignited that dedication to get to him now.

You grabbed Frank’s shotgun, cocking it and getting your pistol in your other hand. And with a devilish glare, you turned the corner and proceeded to pick off the rest of the men that remained.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you realized they were all dead. Turning on your heel, you ran to room in the back that was connected to the room you had been in, throwing open the door urgently.

“Frank,” You practically whispered. He was bound a chair by chains, his face bruised and bloodied.

“Holy shit.” He murmured, taking in your current state. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you were sure it was nothing short of horrific. You were covered head to toe in a mixture of your own blood and your victim's, wounds and bruises littering your entire body. "Christ, woman, what the fuck happened out there?" He asked with a worried tone.

You aimed your pistol at his chains. “Don’t move.” You spoke gently, yet firm. He nodded, giving you the okay to take the shot. Once you did, he was up and bringing you into his arms almost immediately.

The weapons in your hands clattered to the ground in an instant as you let yourself melt in his arms. You were exhausted. Due to your search for Frank and also just your pure anxiety in being away from him, you had barely slept in the past couple days. That definitely came back to bite you in the ass, and on top of it all, you were in a lot of pain. The kisses Frank was leaving to the side of your head made you feel a lot better, though.

You pulled back just a bit to cup his jaw, your eyes scanning his injuries. “Are you okay?”

He let out a dry chuckle before turning his hand slightly to leave a kiss to your palm. “Baby, you are in no position to be askin’ me that right now.” His hands came up to cradle to your face, and you nestled your face into his palm. "Are you okay?"

You managed to give him a smile. “I'm better now.” You let out a shaky breath. Now that you had found Frank, the pain really began to set in. You wouldn’t let yourself feel all of the pain until you knew you were safe— and you now knew that Frank had you. “They’re all dead.” You told him. "I killed them all."

“Damn,” He licked his lips, staring down at you. “And here I was thinkin’ no one was comin’ for me.”

“You should know by now I’ll always come for you.” You expressed, leaning up to connect your lips. You didn’t care if you were covered in blood, or that Frank had been tied to a chair for 2 days— you missed him.

You loved him. And you would set the world on fire for him.

Once you two pulled apart, he stared into your eyes. “I fuckin’ love you.”

You giggled softly, gazing up at him lovingly. “I love you, Frank.”

pretty boy — matt murdock

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader.

warnings: language, fluff, established relationship, standard daredevil warnings.

authors note: hiii! since rewatching daredevil, my matt and frank obsession has been back up n running (not that i’m complaining). and this is based on this request, thank you anon <3. i love this little fluffy fic, i hope you enjoy this!

masterlist

You watched the snowflakes fall with a calm smile on your face. You had always adored this time of year, especially when it snowed. It was just something about how the never ending buzzing of Hell’s Kitchen would just stop for a moment— just peace and quiet. It never failed to calm your nerves, whatever worries that were on your mind washing away with the snow hitting the ground.

You were sat on your boyfriend’s couch wrapped up in a blanket with a book in your hand, soaking in the tranquility that this type of weather brought you. Matt’s apartment was always one of your favorite places— it was always so quiet and the big, open windows granted you a sight to Hell’s Kitchen. Even with the bright build-board right outside, you still loved it. Most of all, you loved it because it was his. Everything in the apartment reminded you of Matt, thats why you spent as much time as possible here.

“Sweetheart?” Matt’s call broke you from your thoughts, and your heart swelled at his voice. You stood up immediately, walking over to where he was kicking off his shoes and jacket by the door.

“Hi, baby,” You smiled, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders as his hands wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer.

“Hi,” He whispered as you took off his sunglasses. The second the lenses were off his eyes, the man brought his lips to yours.

Your smile only grew against his lips as you dug one of your hands into his hair— the man before you only growing more greedy against your lips.

You pulled back for air, a teasing look on your features. Matt may not have sight, but he could always tell when that look crossed your face. “Someone missed me, huh?” You cheekily teased.

His cold hands dove under the material of your— his shirt, causing a yelp to leave your lips as you attempted to get away from him.

He smiled brightly at you. “Of course I missed you,” His cold hands only traveled further up your back, and you knew the sneaky fucker could probably hear the goosebumps rising on your skin.

“Stop!” You giggled, trying to fight your way out of his arms, but you knew it was fruitless.

“Okay, okay,” He chuckled, relenting his cold hands from your warm skin. “‘m sorry, you’re just warm and it was fuckin’ freezing out there.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, your hands grabbing his own from your hips and wrapping them within your own in an attempt to warm them up. “I told you that this morning. Just because you’re the big, bad Daredevil doesn’t mean you don’t get cold, my love.” You joked, interlacing your fingers and leading him to your shared room.

He rolled his own eyes with a smile at your remark, you never failed to tease him for his vigilante ways— even when he came to you half dead and you had to patch him up, you still found a way to crack a joke to see his smile.

“Here,” You turned to him with a hoodie and sweatpants in your hands. “Get out of that suit so we can cuddle on the couch.” You left a kiss on his lips before turning on your heel and walking towards the kitchen.

Matt shook his head with a laugh, but did as he was told regardless. Once he was settled, he made his way towards where you were in the kitchen. You smiled softly when you felt his chest against your back and his arms slither around your waist. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder as he left small kisses along your neck.

“Hot chocolate, huh?” He murmured against your neck.

You rolled your eyes playfully at his use of his senses. “Yep, might help you warm up, Frozone.” You joked.

“I know you did not just compare me to that dude from Incredibles.” He scoffed, feigning offensiveness.

You giggled. “How do you even know that?”

“Honey, my ears still work.” He pinched your hip lightly. “When that movie came out all the kids at the orphanage loved it. Had to hear it at least three times a day,”

You grimaced at the thought. “That must’ve been torture, havin’ to constantly hear the plot of that movie.”

“It was.” He agreed.

“Don’t tell me you hate that movie, though.” You looked at him from over your shoulder, holding up a finger. “‘Cause that was my favorite Disney movie for a while..”

He started tickling you immediately, a loud squeal leaving your lips. “Oh, my girl has a basic taste in Disney movies?” He teased with a smile, talking slightly loud over your laughter. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Matthew!” You wheezed out, thrashing in his grip. He finally relented as you laid against him while you attempted to catch your breath. “Didn’t know you were so passionate about my taste..”

“Well, I gotta let you know if it’s a basic one.” He shrugged, a smirk on his lips.

“If it’s so basic, then how’d I pick you?” You bit back with raised brows.

A breathy chuckle escaped him, before he paused to lick his lips. “Fair play, honey.”

You only smiled in return, turning back to pour the pair of you a mug of hot chocolate. Matt let his eyes flutter shut behind you, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he relaxed to the sounds of just simply: you.

You smiled when you noticed what he was doing, one of your hands coming up to scratch his scalp. “It’s ready,” You softly said.

He pulled away from you to grab his mug. “Thank you, baby.” He left a kiss to the side of your head before wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to the couch.

He placed both of your cups on the coffee table before lying down and dragging you into his chest, yet another yelp leaving your lips.

Your chin rested on his chest as you looked at him with questioning eyes.

“What?” He laughed. “I told you I missed you,”

You only smiled, leaning up slightly to bring your lips together. His hand immediately shot up to cup your jaw, the man also leaning up to deepen it. You’d never get tired of the way his lips chased yours, and how passionately he kissed you every time.

You pulled back for air, but not before leaving a couple small pecks to his lips.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you, Matt.” You whispered back, leaving one last kiss to his lips before digging your head into the crook of his neck— the hot chocolate being long forgotten.

But in all honesty, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were perfectly fine just as you were, wrapped up in your lover’s arms during a snowstorm.

before it kills me || jon snow

"Are you jealous?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm afraid. I don't know."

you're jealous of the dragon queen, and it's tearing you up. fem!reader. takes place s8.

Thank you so much for the request! Sorry it took so long!Hope you like it!

masterlist

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You'd always been the jealous type. Not just with lovers, but with friends, and with things, and with luck. When you were a child, you'd stare at the highborn whenever they passed through your village, dressed in silk and plate armor, on shining, well-bred horses. Why them? You would think. Why them, and not me?

At the Wall, you'd been jealous of Jon at first. He was stronger, and faster, and better trained than you-- that is to say, trained in the first place. You'd been jealous of Sam, who could read, and Grenn, who could ride, and Pyp, who could sing. It had faded, of course, and you hadn't let it stop you making friends for too long, but still, it was your first instinct. It always had been.

Now, at Winterfell, after years of fighting, and bleeding, and freezing your ass off on the edge of the world, you found yourself jealous again. Not of someone's skill, or weapon, or training, like would be even marginally acceptable for someone of your age. No, you were jealous of a pretty woman, and how much time she spent with Jon Snow. And it was bad.

That fucking Dragon Queen had you pacing. Pacing, and brooding, and biting your nails, and cursing yourself for all of it. You had more important things to be worried about than the affections of Jon Snow, who wasn't yours to be jealous for in the first place. Gods, when did you even start loving him? Maybe you always had. Either way, this was what you got for dancing around him for years-- you hadn't made him yours when you could've, and now, someone better had shown up to whisk him off on dragonback.

Daenerys Stormborn-- First of Her Name, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons. The Unburnt, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Queen of the Andals and the First Men. How could you ever compete with that?

Did you even want to try?

What could you possibly give him that she couldn't? She was inspiring, powerful, and unmatched in beauty. A Targaryen. A gods-damned dragon rider. And you were a bastard girl who cut her hair and became a man of the Watch. Not even a bastard of someone noble and important, like Jon was. Just a Flowers of some Redwyne or Fossoway who's name your mother forgot. Rough, weary, dressed in old black ringmail and scars.

Daenerys dressed in furs and silver.

Didn't he deserve her?

You should have just talked to him. You knew that. But jealousy was an old friend, a familiar pain. It was easy to sink back into. So you let it claw at you for hours, for days, alternatingly ferocious and grieving. It ate you from the inside out and the outside in, made you irritable and anxious and guilty. Distracted. You slipped up on the sparring field. Battle plans went in one ear and out the other. No sleeping position was comfortable anymore, and your jaw ached from constant clenching and grinding your teeth.

Your friends had grown worried. You hadn't let even Davos coax out what was wrong, though you suspected he already knew. You were growing worried too. Fighting the dead would need you at your strongest, and the dull ache in your chest was taking its toll.

You grit your teeth again, and got out of bed. This has got to end. Fuck it if he loved her, if you had been wrong, and all the glances, the stray touches, the so-nearly-kisses that always seemed to get interrupted had all meant nothing to him. At least you'd know, and you'd move on. Or you'd die fighting Walkers, and none of it would matter. Either way, it'll be better than this.

The castle was sleeping, and nobody but a few wandering soldiers were there to pay you any mind. Poor bastards probably can't sleep either. Some bowed their heads respectfully when you walked past, mumbling "M'lady," or sometimes "Ser," though you were not a knight, and lady of nothing but your sword. You quickened your pace.

When you reached Jon's room, you didn't let yourself think twice. You didn't steel yourself, didn't take a breath, just rapped on the door before you had a chance to go craven and leave.

Jon opened the door. Disheveled, in nothing but a plain shirt and trousers, though clearly awake. Your breath hitched. It felt intimate, seeing him this way, out of his capes and his leather, without Longclaw on his hip. His eyes widened, and you remembered your own appearance. Your bare feet, your undone hair, your dressing gown. At least we're even, then.

Jon ran a hand through his hair. "You need something, Flowers?" He mumbled, not unkindly, a tired smile ghosting his lips.

"Do you love me?"

"What?"

You pushed your way into the room. Jon's eyes flared again, but he didn't stop you. "You heard me, Snow. Do you love me? All those times we sat on watch together. All those times you held my hand, and came to greet me at the tunnel when I came back from a ranging, and fussed over me when I got hurt. How you called for me when the fighting ended at Castle Black, and after the Boltons, and how I called for you. Did all of that mean something to you, or did I imagine it?"

His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he just looked at you. Then, his face softened. He took your hand in his, warm and rough and familiar, and threaded his fingers through yours.

"Are you jealous?"

Damn him.

"Maybe." Your voice came out a tremble. "Or maybe I'm afraid. I don't know."

"Come here." He tugged you into his arms, and you found yourself clinging. It had all been so much so fast. All the fighting, the dying, the red woman, the free folk. Ramsay, and Cersei, and the threat of the dead, and the beautiful Daenerys with her dragons. Jon held you as you cried about nothing and everything for a while, rubbing your back and carding his fingers through your hair, murmuring reassuring things that you couldn't hear.

You could've stayed there forever.

But I need to know before it kills me.

With an effort, you stepped back, feeling a little empty without his arms around you, and a little guilty about the damp spot you'd left on his shirt. You took a shaky breath.

"I need to know if you love me, or--" you pushed a sob down, before it could break. Jon opened his mouth, but you didn't let him get a word in. "It's okay if you don't, really-- I just," you offered him a watery smile. "I need to know now. If you love me, or if you love the Queen. Please, Jon. Before it kills me."

You bit your trembling lip for dear life. You would not cry if he said loved her, you swore it to every god you knew. You would not ruin it for him, more than you already had. If he said he loved her, you would smile, and thank him for his honesty, and be done with it.

But Jon Snow didn't say anything. Instead, he sat on the edge of his bed, and took your hand, and kissed your knuckles. He kissed your palm, and your wrist, inviting you to sit beside him with a gentle pull. You nearly fell into place. Something about his touch always made you lean into him without thinking. He wasn't magnetic, exactly-- it was something softer than that. More akin to the gentle urge of gravity on a feather.

He held your face in his hands, and brushed away a tear, and kissed you softer than any fur or silk in the world.

"Of course I love you," he said, voice wavering. Tears had made a home in his eyes, just as they had in yours, and the look on his face sent a wave of guilt crashing over you. "I'm sorry you ever thought I didn't. Please, forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive, Jon. You know how I get, I--" you paused, trying to find the words. "I'm sorry. I'm a jealous woman, a scarred woman. I have no dragons, and no crown, and no beautiful silver hair or perfect face. I have no name of my own. I have nothing to give you but my sword and my love, and Daenerys has seven kingdoms. Well, she will, I mean. Just-- I felt like you'd abandoned me for someone better. Which is stupid, because you're not even mine to think about that way--"

"And who says I don't want to be?" Jon interrupted. He took your hand, took your scarred knuckles to his lips again. The way he was fixing those beautiful eyes on you, with such perfect sincerity, took every word you'd ever known right out of your mouth. Whatever he was going to say next, he meant it.

"I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine, and I don't want it because of power, or money, or dragons. I just want to love you. Is that so hard to believe, Flowers?"

"You would love a jealous woman?"

Jon laughed. "You would love a jealous man? I can be just as bad as you, you know. Remember when you got to be a ranger, and I didn't?"

That was true, and you chuckled at the memory. "Gods, you're right, Snow. You had on the most sullen look I've ever seen when you watched me and Grenn ride off for the first time."

"And that was me trying to hide it."

Jon Snow took you in his arms again, smiling now, and kissed your brow. When you buried your face in his shoulder, he smelled of linen, and smoke, and something that was just him. Familiar, safe, and gentle.

"Stay with me tonight. I want to hold you." His whisper fluttered over your ear, tone almost desperate, almost yearning. Your heart skipped about ten beats at once, and you shuddered. He's going to be the death of me, you thought, pulling back to look in those deep, dark eyes. He is going to be the death of me, and I don't mind at all. Gently, you pressed his shoulder, pushing him down to lie on his back, with you settled in the pocket of his arm.

He held you, and you held him, and for the first time in many days, you slept comfortably.

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