#he's become one of my faves in such little time i Had to gif him the moment i saw he was gonna appear in the ep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

b00tyliciousbabe · 4 months

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gingerbread

himbo bf x male reader

summary: spending time with your boyfriend and his family for the holidays. some fluff, lil angst, bad jokes (i apologise in advance), and minimal smut of course.

notes: merry chrysler! hope y’all pretty people are doing amazing. notoriously indecisive in true bootylicious fashion, i settled on one of my fave typa men - gentle giant himbos. think danny wheeler from baby daddy. now, i would never call my men dumb, but always be saying real stupid things. there’s a specific kind of wonder that you can see in their eyes…i’m whipped.

disclaimer: i also tried to keep it as open to as many tastes as possible, so a lot of who he is, you can do create yourself. but i had to make him a bit of a redhead, they too fine.

y’all better gass me because the way i wrote this 3 hours before the end of xmas day, enjoy babies <3

saved in his phone as gingerbread - he’s a ginger, and you get bred xx

you always loved spending time with your boyfriend’s family, almost as much as they loved you. his mother was the first to catch Y/N fever, mostly because you reminded her of herself and it was a relief to know that someone could handle her son’s antics . then it was his brothers, they loved how mellow you made him, as if all of his struggles melted away when you waltzed into his life. they felt like your guardians, wanting to protect you because they knew how much you meant to their baby brother. and his sisters…they’re lowkey your best friends. when you first met, y’all got on so well with one another bonding over fashion, pop culture, and weirdly philosophy.

his dad liked you as a person, believing you were a kind soul, but not the person for his son, because of how different you two were. they were a quiet luxury kinda family, which didn’t necessarily coincide with how connected you were with celebrities. this was until he saw how well you worked together. whilst working on a huge project for the family business, your boyfriend was stressed in the office. you walked in, ready to go on a date after he’d finished. ‘hey baby, you look hot, where you going?’ he’d forgotten, but you never held it against him. you loved to see the cogs turn in his head as he came to a realisation. ‘shit. it’s date night.’ he groaned head in hands. ‘I’m so sorry Y/N, work’s just been so busy, the clients wanted to move the order forward, the contractors needed more data on the financial markets, and…’ you sat down on his desk, holding his chin so you guys exchanged eye contact. ‘babe, it’s all good, i know it’s a really busy time for you.’ you stroked his face reassuringly, a sigh of relief emitted from his lips. ‘i ain’t leaving your side, we’re in this together,’ you said as you went in for a kiss. it was deep and sensual, and if you didn’t stop when you did, you would’ve left that room walking side to side. ‘so, what can i help with?’ you responded, looking at the documents on the desk. he stared up lovingly, ‘i don’t deserve you,’ he admitted ‘too good to me.’ which garnered a little chuckle from you. his dad saw how supportive you were, pulling an all-nighter for the benefit of your man. you were so tired that the two of you spooned on the couch in his office, and slept there. early the next morning, the two of you were met with a breakfast course on the coffee table and your respective starbucks orders. you kissed your bf goodbye, so he could work, and just as you were about to leave, his father stopped you. ‘good morning Y/N, did you enjoy the food?’ he questioned as you entered the elevator together. ‘it was lovely sir, thank you.’ you replied hesitantly. ‘the only thanks due is to you, i appreciate how you’re always there for my son.’ you smiled inside, longing to prove yourself to him. ‘I love him sir, he needs to know that any problem he has, automatically becomes our problem to solve together.’ he knew at that moment, you were the perfect fit.

one of the core memories of your relationship was the weekend in the alps. your boyfriend thought this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to have some alone time with you before the new year. with award season coming up, many celebrities needed to be styled, you legit had no time to see him, it was going to be amazing. you stayed in the chalet his parents owned, but neither of you knew that it’d be an entire sibling getaway. the two of you snuggled under the blankets, drinking hot chocolate, whilst listening to some quiet smooth jazz in the background. revelling in how cozy and warm it was, he was dozing off whilst cuddling and you decided to follow suit, but not before a quick kiss on your bf’s nose - he’s so cute. unfortunately, like most precious things, this didn’t last long. there was a huge clatter at the door, awakening you two. ‘what the fuck are you guys doing here?’ your man blasted at them. ‘oh hey lil bro,’ one of them said as the others made themselves feel at home. ‘we heard you lovebirds were here and wanted to see Y/N again, we missed him.’ they all waved at you. you blushed and immediately got up greet them all with hugs and squeals. ‘omds, i haven’t see you guys in ages, we have so much to catch up on.’ you blurted out in an excited frenzy. your love, on the other hand, didn’t share the same energy. whilst you had walked to his sisters, his brothers playfully punched your bf to cheer up. ‘you idiots, have the worst timing, he said as they got ready to get some wood for the chimney.

it was just you and the girls, as you gossiped about the drama that went down during fashion week as they ate up every word. you mostly had done a lot of listening to their relationship dramas and work lives, as you shared a couple giggles. you has made gingerbread men, as his sisters watched the master at work. ‘Y/N, these are delicious, how are you so good at everything?’ they praised which made you blush. the boys had returned, with your man wincing with pain as his brothers carried him in. ‘the dummy tripped on the snow’ they said snickering as you walked to help him. ‘how many times have i told you to be careful out there?’ you said, concerningly staring at the bruise on his hip. you touched it gently earning a wince from him as he pushed away your hand. ‘sorry babe.’ he stared dead in your eye and looked away, giving you the silent treatment. ‘what do you need?’ he continued airing. ‘i’m gonna get some bandages’ you said, unsure of what you did to hurt him emotionally.

‘the fuck is wrong with you?’ his sisters protested, thumping his head. ‘ow! what do you mean?’ ‘that boy loves you, so much so that he puts up with all of your shit and stupidity.’ they come to your defence. he looks to his brothers for help, but to no avail. ‘dude, I’ll be real, you fucked up.’ one says. ‘he was just trying to help’ another adds. like the youngest, he continues to deflect ‘well, if you guys hadn’t come, i wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and me and Y/N would have been happier. he finally admitted. ‘oh damn.’ their faces became gentler as they circled in on him. ‘I just never get to see him now, with work and everything, and i don’t want him to get used to not seeing me’ he started to get teary but hid it behind a scowl. ‘bro, you are meant to be with Y/N, i see it in your eyes every time he walks into a room, like he’s the only one there.’ your bf smiles at the mere thought of your face. ‘see, he ain’t even here and you’re cheesing so bad rn.’ they all laugh. ‘i don’t know how to tell him, he’s so good at communicating his feelings, i just, i just can’t do it the way he does.’ his heart begins to beat faster. ‘that’s the thing though, he knows you better than you know yourself.’ the eldest brother says ‘there’s nothing that he won’t be able to understand because the two of are so connected.’

you enter with the bandages and medical supplies. ‘here’s a chance to fix that’ his twin sister says as they leave and move to the other side of the mansion, locking the door behind them as they wave you bye for now. you sit beside him on the sofa, placing a hot compress on his bruise. ‘Y/N, we need to talk.’ you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine by being stand-offish ‘speak then.’ you say glaring into his eyes that made you melt every time but now. ‘i am so sorry for my rude behaviour, i know you were just tryna help my stubborn ass.’ you continued tending to his wounds, with an apathy rivalled only by the unconditional love you have for him. ‘whatever.’ you muttered. ‘aw, come on baby, don’t be like that.’ he grimaced. ‘like what,’ your voice growing in confidence ‘like someone who, as hard as they try, can never get their boyfriend to fully open up?’ you admitted. ‘you know that’s not the whole story.’ he looks down. ‘mkay’ you say, tired of arguin, he just needed to cool off. he takes a deep breath. ‘Y/N, you know i love you more than anything ’ your boyfriend boldly states, deepening your eye contact. ‘and you know i love you the same, but sometimes love is not enough,’ you struggle to get the words out, getting choked up as you hold his cheek for stability. he turns to kiss you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he caresses your thigh, as your tongues dance for dominance in the warmth of your mouth. you pulled back. ‘here goes nothing, babe, I’m afraid, afraid of losing you.’ he admitted desperately. ‘we barely ever see each other and I’m scared that it has, um, like, maybe, um’ he failed to articulate his thoughts, angering him further. ‘calm down love, i hear what you’re saying. you’re worried about the possibility of us being comfortable with rarely seeing one another and what that means for us.’ you always knew how to soothe his heart. ‘exactly, you’re just so good at letting me know what we need to do to make this relationship work that I’m clueless at asking for help.’ he smiled earning a chuckle from you. ��we’re in this together boo, you won’t ever lose me.’ as he sneers into another smooch. ‘fuck.’ he moaned into your mouth as a tent forms in his boxers. ‘your voice always gets me going.’ you looked down and immediately dropped to your knees.

you hadn’t sucked your boyfriend’s cock in what seemed like forever. you pulled his boxers to his ankles as his thick cock sprung up, throbbing in the cool air of the room. you grabbed his pole, gaslighting him into thinking you were going to start at the tip. instead you began to massage his beefy, low-hanging balls in your mouth. ‘Y/N, fuck, that’s where the spunk is stored, not where you drink it from’ he snickered, removing them from your mouth. ‘you’ve got to st-UGHHHH’ you deepthroated with ease, loving how his dumb, naive nature was still translated to your time in the sheets. ‘that’s it baby, good boy’ he praises, looking at the slobber that made his dick glisten. ‘shit.’ he cums without warning, giving you an impromptu facial. ‘sorry darling, i came as soon as i saw you slap my dick on your thick lips.’ your boyfriend helped you to clean up, pushing his hand all over your face and fingering your mouth with his nut.

you moved to undressing, as you straddled your man. ‘i know you wanna pound me into tomorrow, but you can’t,’ gesturing to his bruise. he whined and cooed. ‘however…’ you whispered into his ear, jerking him of with a mix of his cum and your spit ‘imma help my man out tonight.’ as you sank onto his schlong with ease. his hands immediately grabbed your globes, as he licked his lips salaciousy, enjoying your physique. ‘so fucking hot.’ your bf mumbled. you started bouncing on his cock as he slowly rutted in you from beneath, your hole was already sore.

it was gonna be a long night…

@gayaristocrat imma save your fantasy for dacre, that man is 90s fine fr

#gay #smut #bottom male reader #male x male #mlm #male reader #christmas fanfic #male x male fluff #male x male angst

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fleursbending · 1 year

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𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. | Sully Family

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : instead of lo’ak being the one diving into the sinking ship, it was you - neteyam’s twin sister. pushed by the sheer amount of adrenaline in your system, you desperately search for your family. knowing you cannot handle losing anymore of them as well.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter (neteyam's twin sister)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : heavy on the dad!jake x reader & brotherly lo'ak in this. is this me trying to stake my claim as becoming one of your fave sully!daughter writers? yes, it is!! seriously uhmmm prep your tissues for your daddy issues! yes, that was a purposeful rhyme. & sorry didn't rlly proofread this!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, mentions of grief, loss, death, protective and emotionally exhausted reader :(, ure gonna cry because i love pain. hurt/comfort, angst.

𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Tsmuke - sister, Tsmukan - brother, Iarsä - Y/n's Ilus name, Yawntutsyìp - darling or little loved one.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3k words !

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hi my beloveds! thank you for all the support on this <3 part 2 can be read: here!

𝐘/𝐍'𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, the cries of her mother muffled to her ears that lay flat on her head. Her other half, her twin brother. The eldest, born only 7 minutes apart, was no longer there. There had come a time when his presence was so natural, no questions asked - no alarming feeling. He was always her shadow, and if not. Neteyam was there in an instant at her beck and call.

They were both spitting images of their mother, they even shared her same deep spiritual connection with Eywa. Even their songcords aligned with each other. Y/n remembers then, how her mother had said such occurrences only really happen with twins. That in itself was a rarity for their clan.

Now he was gone, yet she remained. The shadow that loomed over her, escaped as the Eclipse crept up on them.

You blink once, twice. Wiping the tears that you didn’t even realize were streaming down your face. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Lo’ak blankly gazing down at his hands which were coated in Neteyam’s blood. She scoots closer to him then, ripping the fringes of her loin-cloth off and dipping it into the water.

If Lo’ak notices the shakiness of her hands, he doesn’t comment on it. It feels like his tongue had been stapled to the roof of his mouth at that very moment. Alas, his tender heart squeezes a fraction as you use the fabric to try to wipe away the remnants of blood.

A rough voice coming from your father cuts through the sentimental moment.

“Where are your sisters?” He’s not intentionally glaring, but his eyes alone felt like he was picking through your soul.

“Your sisters, where are they?” He repeats, more urgency detected in his tone now.

“I don’t know.” Lo’ak mumbles, every part of him looking lost.

Your mother's cries of terror grow in volume then.

“Where are they!” Jake bellowed, time was of the essence. Now more than ever.

“Dad,” Y/n whines out, wishing for him to just take a moment.

His eyes meet yours for a moment, before breaking away. He couldn’t look at you right now, doing so would make him lose all of his resolves. Jake had to stay locked, just for a few more moments. Then he’ll have the chance to mourn, to bring you into his arms. To apologize for how now you must live the same faith he had to endure and suffer through.

“On the ship, they are tied up on the ship.” Tsireya wavers, her grip on Neteyam’s leg not letting up.

Spider's mouth moves, but you don’t hear a thing. Turning back to your brother, you hover over him. Neytiri leans into you as she cradles him to her chest.

Jake gets your mom’s attention, and by doing so she passes Neteyam to you. Y/n freezes up, feeling how cold he is. Seeing how pale he is. This isn’t her mighty brother, it was a shell of him.

As Neytiri flies away on her Ikran, the sound of its wings breaks you out of your reverie. Gently, you lay him back down on the rock before pushing yourself up. Staggering over to Lo’aks side, he pulls you into him.

Usually, he’d nag about your height difference, but this time he used it to his advantage to briefly tuck his head into your shoulder.

Jake looks to Lo’ak. “Both of you, stay with your brother.”

Lo’ak takes a step forward, bringing you with him.

“But dad, I want to go with you,” Lo’ak whispers.

“Please, dad,” Y/n begs, unable to fathom sitting by her deceased twin while her sisters were still in harm's way.

Jake shakes his head, “You’ve done enough.”

“No, dad,” Lo’ak breaks. A part of him cracks, the guilt and shame consuming him.

Y/n places a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him some support.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that, brother,” Y/n spoke, catching on to where his mind was heading.

There you watch as your dad and Spider become one with the water. Y/n moves back to kneel down beside Tsireya, as she cradles Neteyam’s face and gives him a light kiss on his forehead.

Lo’ak takes one last glance at his brother before reluctantly tugging on your arm.

Y/n regards him with uncertainty. Before you can question him though, he caresses the side of Tsireya’s face for a second. “Stay with him.”

Tsireya flounders, “No!”

He rushes to the edge of the rock, and you can only wince as you apologize to Tsireya for your and Lo’aks actions.

“I’m sorry, Tsireya.”

She tries to shout for you guys to come back, but it’s too late. You’re already both calling for your Ilu’s as you jump into the ocean.

Iarsä swam right beneath you, and in an instant, you are gripping her tightly and making tsaheylu. Deep in your brain, you wondered if Neteyam’s Ilu felt the loss you do. What about his Ikran? Oh, Eywa.

“Tsmuke!” Lo’ak called for you as you started to lag behind a little.

Quickening your pace, you moved by him. His worried eyes flittered over to yours.

“Tsukan, I am fine.” You tried to reassure him, but you know he saw through it all.

His lips pulled down into a frown, but he knew now wasn’t the time to comment back to you.

Either way, he is interrupted by the shocked gasp that leaves your mouth. The ship isn’t too far from you guys now, but it’s beginning to flip over and sink down.

Lo’ak guided you closer to the ship, haphazardly avoiding miscellaneous floating objects.

“That’s Spider and Kiri!” Lo’ak blurted out, his finger pointing at two figures bobbing up and down in the water.

Y/n nods, as Lo’ak yips to alert them that they are here.

“Bro!” A light flashes in your eyes, and it’s coming from Spider.

A sigh of relief escapes you seeing Kiri alright, but you can still see how distraught she looks. It physically hurts you not to tell her what had just happened, but time was escaping you all even more quickly.

Kiri watches the Ship fully engulfed by the ocean. She trembled, “Mom and dad are down there, in the ship!”

An alarm rings like an insistent bell in your mind. Of course, no wonder they were alone.

But where is Tuk? Y/n’s conscience is on overdrive, the exhaustion is gnawing at her heavily. She’d get nowhere like this, tackle one thing at a time. That’s what she needs to do.

“Grab on- Y/n!” Lo’ak protested as you descended further into the murky waters. Except it was too late, she was already gone.

Y/n’s eyes squinted as the water pulled at her skin due to the high speeds she was going at. In spite of that, it did not matter. Nothing mattered more than saving whatever was left of her family.

Darting into the first opening of the ship you are able to squeeze through, not without realising the spaces were far too cramped to navigate your Ilu through. With that, you reluctantly release her.

The further you descended, the more effort it took to be able to examine your surroundings. You can feel your chest starting to tighten just a little. However, Y/n notices a faint outline of an avatar body ahead of her.

It takes every willpower within her to not weep at the sight of your dad twitching against a part of the collapsing ship. Jumping into action, wrapping both of your arms around one of his. Then you tug as hard as you can, back from where you had just come from.

You recalled the air pocket you encountered not too long ago. Yes, that will work for now.

The closer you grew to your destination, the more your dad fidgeted in your tight grasp. Then, his arms reached up.

Y/n and Jake exhale as they break through the surface.

“Dad?” She whimpers her heart, sinking as Jake struggles to catch his breath.

He clutches onto the side of the wall, his chest rising up and down far too rapidly.

“Dad, please. Take a few deep breaths!” She falters when trying to approach him, scared to jolt him even more.

He groans, eyes bleary, “Neteyam?”

It felt like an axe had been wedged in your heart. You’ve dealt with far too much in a span of few hours.

“No, dad. It’s Y/n”

“Oh, Y/n…you just look so much like him.” He struggles to say.

Y/n clenches her eyes closed in despair. She knew that voice, it was the one he’d use to try to weave out of something. Sugarcoating, he had told you when you were younger.

She couldn’t help but weigh on the thought that he probably thought he was dead and with Eywa.

Sighing, her hand presses into her face. “Sorry, I know. You and ma always say that.”

In a blink of an eye, profound guilt encapsulates her very being. Once again, Y/n has been reminded of Neteyam. What she has lost, what she must now grieve.

Gulping, her voice stammered “I’m sorry, sir. His death was all my fault. I should have done better.”

Jake’s heart lurches at your words, being reminded of Tommy.

“Focus, just focus on getting out.” He coughs as the lights behind you flicker. The ship's loud groans rattle in both of your ears.

“Okay, okay,” Y/m mumbles to herself. Analyzing her surroundings, she realizes the water is rising at a quicker pace. Dammit.

“We’re losing air pockets, dad. Come on, let’s go,” She insisted.

Jake lets out sounds of pain as he moves into the corner.

“You know your way out?” He inquires. Before you look at him with a scrutinizing gaze he takes you in with all his pride. His daughter, his first-ever daughter.

Ah, there it is. Furrowed brows and all.

“I think so. But dad, you’re gonna have to hold your breath for a while. Okay?” She responded, ignoring the ache in her limbs.

You lean into him then, thumbing the blood seeping out from one of the cuts on his face.

Just like he’d do to you when you were little, an action so simple whenever you’d hurt yourself. Something you inhabited from him.

That’s exactly why he can’t keep you here. You still had so much more to live for.

“I can’t make it, but you can. You can, you can.”

You speak over the top of him, anguish spreading across your facial features. “No, no-no, dad!”

The tone in your voice pitches, conveying the desperation you felt right at that moment.

“I refuse, I can’t lose you too. Not you, dad.” She says vehemently. So much finality had been wrapped into that sentence, and he knew that you weren’t going to move.

If he can’t make it, then you weren’t leaving his side. You’re going to stay right here.

He rapidly blinks his eyes, finally clearing his vision properly.

Ignoring the pounding from his head, he looks at you. Truly examining you.

The face you hold at that moment is the deepest wound to strike him yet from today.

Just now, he can see how mature you’ve become in a span of less than a day. It left him with such scorching indignation. No kid should have to grow up this quickly, but the unique circumstances brought upon your family had forced you to do so.

There are tears running down your face, and the seawater should mask it well. But he’s your father, he knows. He can see you clutching something tightly in your hands then. It feels like cinder blocks had been pushed against his gut when he recognizes it to be one of Neteyam’s armbands.

Y/n follows his eyes, unclenching her first. He was right.

She swallows, lips trembling. “It was floating in the ship close to where you were before, maybe it was a sign from him. He was letting me know you were close. I didn’t even realize when it floated into my hand. It must have slipped off before he…”

A deep frown settles on Jake’s face whilst hearing you get choked up. He kicks his legs, ignoring the throbbing feeling spreading through his body.

He leans his head on top of yours.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry.” He coos.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to calm down.

After he pressed his lips to your forehead, you lean back from him.

“We’re running out of time. Okay, you need to be really calm. Breathe down from here.” You press your hand to his lower chest. Mimicking the breathing you learned not too long ago from your dear friend Tsireya.

He follows you, pursing his lips. Inhaling, exhaling.

You close your eyes.

“The way of water has no beginning and no end.

The sea is around you and in you.

The sea is your home before your birth, and after your death.”

Your eyes open, watching Jake take your words in. He tries his absolute hardest to ease his mind, just like you had done moments ago.

Good, he’s doing good.

Y/n continues.

“The sea gives, and the sea takes.

Water connects all things.

Life to death, darkness to light.”

The water is now up to your chin, even as you tilt your head up.

“Dad, you can do this. Please.”

He nods his head, “I’m with you, Y/n.”

The words bring you great comfort, your heart now being able to lessen some of its burdens.

Y/n finally smiles.

“Okay, last breath. I love you, dad.”

He winces at the prickling pain but manages to give you a smile in return.

“I love you too, my daughter.”

With that, both of you breathe in before going underwater.

You start the treacherous journey out of here, doing your best to retrace the directions you had mapped out in your mind. Making sure to occasionally check back on your dad as you hurdle through random objects that stuck out.

Y/n looks behind her shoulder once again, easing up when she sees Jake not too far behind.

With a motion of your hand, you wordlessly say “follow me”. A reminder that maybe wasn’t needed, but you had to feed your dad some courage.

Your chest begins to constrict a little, but you try to keep your mind elsewhere.

You thank Eywa as you see the exit, holding on to the bar as you reach your hand out.

Jake latches on to it as you swim through the opening. There you both try to seamlessly get out from the remainder of the ship. The gap between you and the surface lessening.

But Jake begins to slow down significantly. Immediately worried, you wrap your arms around him. Chugging over your limit as you pull him up with you.

Y/n starts to hear the muffled noises of her dad starting to choke.

No, no, no. We’re almost there.

A gush of movement is felt from behind you both.

Lo’ak is holding onto Payakan’s fin, using his free arm he darts out to grab your elbow. He tugs you to him.

There, you and Jake are able to hold on to the Tulkun for further momentum.

The cool air nips at your cheeks as you finally break through the water.

“Hang on, both of you! Breathe, breathe.” Lo’ak urges as he quickly holds your face to see if you’re alright.

Y/n bows her head and then goes to personally thank Payakan for saving their lives.

“I see you, son.” She hears, there you gaze as Lo’ak and Jake share a bittersweet moment.

However, right behind them, you see familiar figures moving closer to you all.

“Ma Jake!” Neytiri called.

“Dad, dad!” Tuk cried.

“Mom!” You and Lo’ak gushed.

“Come here, I have you. It’s Okay.”

“Tuk, Kiri.” She whispers to herself, finally allowing relief to invade her senses.

Your mother leans over, squeezing both your and Lo’aks hands.

But you needed more.

Pushing off of Paykan's fin, you swim over to where Neytiri and Tuk was.

Neytiri grabs you swiftly, letting you fall into the makeshift circle.

“Oh, my yawntutsyìp. My sweet, sweet child.” She mumbles, repeatedly kissing your cheek.

She could not even begin to fathom the loss you have yet to fully process and grieve for.

Another person in the Sully family tree had lost a sibling today.

“Tsmukan, Tsmuke.” Kiri too leans forward in concern.

You just give her a solemn smile, grateful that almost all of you were safe and alive.

She watches her parents embrace before her eyes loom over the empty gap in their family huddle.

It felt like only yesterday how Neteyam would always pinch her and Lo’aks ears, “Why are you guys always forgetting our family meetings?”

Huddling closer to one another, while unspoken you each know this event was something that would drastically change all of your lives forever.

“Sully’s stick together. That was their greatest weakness, and their greatest strength.”

“Thank you, great mother,” Kiri speaks up into the sky.

“Yes.” Neytiri echoes.

Lo’ak gazed at you, then to the sky above.

Y/n followed his actions. She was hoping to each mighty being above, that Neteyam was safe and sound. No longer in pain or danger. That was the least her dear brother deserves.

As everyone loosened their holds, your parents did the opposite. Instead, they brought you into their arms.

There, they cried with you. Finally having a chance to mourn the loss of your twin, their son.

From above and with Eywa, Neteyam looked down at you all with questioning eyes.

“Why are they all crying, great mother?” He asked, not being able to understand the entirety of the situation that occurred before him.

Eywa can only give him a saddened smile.

“Because my child, they are grateful to have known you.”

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

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pretty-toru · 9 months

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Prettyyyyy, have you got some (more?) Gojo nsfw hcs? Love ya lots <3

✧ ⎯⎯ 18+ minors dni. love you too nonnie 🤍 these particular ones have been consuming my mind for so long it's time i finally put them into words.

☁️ Satoru adores seeing you in lingerie. So much that he loves spending thousands of dollars on your collection, and enjoys the sensual confidence and playful attitude when you dress up for him. He'll check you out and appreciatively touch you, and instead of unwrapping his lovely present it stays on the entire time he's making love to you.

The embroidered mesh panties get pulled to the side as he teases you with shallow thrusts, your breasts spilling from the cups of the delicate bra when he gently tugs them down to pinch and roll your nipples. You're a delicious sight as you're sprawled beautifully under him that's begging to be worshiped and admired, especially when you're wearing his colors of baby blues and angelic whites.

☁️ He's a bit obsessed with seeing his thick, white cum anywhere on your body. As much as Satoru loves sharing many beautiful and intimate moments from climaxing deep inside you, he switches things up by pulling out and creating a mess on your pussy as he spills his contents along your folds and clit with the heavy drag of his tip to spread it. He thinks it's one of the hottest parts of sex, like a sense of ownership and marking his territory.

He also loves cumming in your mouth with the visual of your parted lips and seeing it shoot on your tongue while taking in your cute expression. Some other personal faves are on your lovely tits and your stomach because you do that thing where you'd collect a taste of him on your fingers just to lick them clean.

☁️ When Satoru upgraded the private automobile that Ijichi drove him around, the assistant manager wondered if his hard work had been recognized or there must be another reason for this gesture. He quickly received his answer when you were accompanying Satoru to a formal social gathering, and to make it more bearable for your lover (because he thinks these events are boring) he'd instruct Ijichi to raise the privacy screen out of respect for your comfort as you're placing gratuitous kisses along his neck.

Even though the view is obscured, there's no secret the clan leader is receiving a blowjob in the backseat of the car from the way his breathing picks up and expressive moans slipping past his lips and he's praising you for being his 'good girl' and to 'keep sucking just like that.' Satoru would have loved seeing you swallow, but he imagines the evening would be much more amusing knowing that his cum's slowly seeping out of you and onto your panties.

☁️ When you return home from a girls' night out, clearly still in an inebriated daze as Satoru makes his way to the front door at the sound of you stumbling in (and acts like he hadn't been waiting for you the entire time). He doesn't mind helping you out of your dress for his comfy t-shirt and getting you ready for bed by washing your makeup off and brushing your teeth for you as you loosely hug his torso because your mind feels like it's swaying back and forth.

Then comes the usual goodnight kisses after he tucks you in, but your lips are soft and lingering as there’s an ache between your legs that only Satoru can fulfill. You're grinding your heat on his thigh, feeling yourself become a little more whiny and needy and bratty when he doesn't immediately fuck you and makes you use your words to tell him exactly how he can help you. Teases you even, because he can't figure out between the two of you who is being taken advantage of tonight. But with you begging so sweetly, he can’t help but give his pretty baby what she wants.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru #jjk imagines #jjk x reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year

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Hi, could you please do a Dick Grayson x M!Reader x Wally West? If it's not a bother.

I feel like how close Dick and Wally are, whether it be in animated series or comics, they've always been really close. So I feel like if one of them got a partner, the other would still be around at every turn.

So maybe Dick and Reader are dating, have been for awhile, and they have no problem with Wally thrid wheeling on dates or hanging around their apartment with them. Even, joining in on cuddling with them. But, after awhile Wally gets romantic and sexual feelings for both of them.

TLTR:

Dick and Reader are dating, Wally starts off as the forever 3rd wheel. Then it becomes a polyamory relationship.

If you don't want to because of the ship, then it's okay. You can just have tumblr eat this request.

- Crow

Dick Grayson x Wally West x Male Reader

Headcanons

Birdflash is one of my fave ships, so I was happy to write this. Reader is Hal Jordans sidekick, so lantern reader.

Dick and Wally had been friends longer than you had known the two of them, as they were two of the original sidekicks at the time. But when Hal showed up to the league with you, the youngest lantern in history by his side, you three quickly became close.

It started out as the three of you being similar aged, back when Dick was still Robin and Wally had just started out. Because you three became friends it also wasn’t unusual for you to stay with the bats or the speedsters when Hal had to go off planet on missions you weren’t allowed because of your age.

The experience that made you a lantern was very tough for you as you were still very young at the time, which lead to Dick and Wally being people you could lean on when things got tough, or you got nightmares.

The three of you started cuddling because you all had nightmares or night terrors to some degree, and you all found comfort in one another. It became a system for your guardians to text each other if they couldn’t find you in your rooms, because 99% of time, you were having a sudden sleepover at someone’s place.

Its also around that time you three all start having a crush on each other, of course none of you have any idea the other two feel the same way, and your guardians are all quite entertained by the obvious puppy crushes you guys have on each other.

I could very much imagine Hal teasing you using Dick and Wally during training to break your focus and weaken your structures.

At one point you have to leave earth for a longer mission with the lanterns, meaning you’ll be gone for a few years. Both Dick and Wally are heartbroken, but you guys all promise to stay friends when you get back.

When you come back years later Dick has become Nightwing, and you learned he had and lost a little brother, and that there is a third Robin now. Both of your best friends greet you when you land, and to your surprise Dick grabs onto you and kisses you.

Of course, Wally is heartbroken that he lost his chance with both of you but seeing you two happily dating also makes him happy, plus he doesn’t feel like he’s neglected or forgotten in the friendship.

Your friendship feels like before, though all three of you have grown into men and have all become much more skilled heroes. You still have sleepovers, and cuddle and hold each other. There’s no jealously from Dick or you if either of you are snuggled with Wally, or wearing Wally’s clothes of Wally wearing yours.

Some of your other friends definitely joke that the three of you are in a relationship together and that its not just you and Dick. Wally happily accepts the chronic third wheel disease, though he still yearns for the two of you, and you two feel the same way about the speedster.

You three are always connected at the hip, and if one of you aren’t there, people tend to question what’s wrong, since seeing you three without one of your members is like seeing someone with a missing limb.

Your guardians and friends can all tell the three of you like each other equally, but they also know it isn’t their place to force it, but some of them will drop hints.

More time passes and you and Dick have dated for years, Dicks family has gotten a lot bigger, and you have met Damian, who begrudgingly puts up with you because of how skilled of a fighter you are.

The feelings between all three of you have never dulled, and have probably only gotten stronger or more serious. The three of you act like a married couple, though Wally is still just a third wheel.

Knowing these two it would probably be after almost losing one of you that the confession happens, maybe you and Dick both got really hurt, so Wally has to get you to safety, where he would ramble in a panic about how he can’t lose you two since he loves you both so much.

It would need some clarification what he means by love, since you three tend to be very open with affection to each other, but when he confesses, he’s always been in love with the two of you, he expects backlash.

Instead, he gets relieved sighs from both you and Dick, and before Wally can ask about it, you both take turns kissing him.

After that your relationship becomes official, and no one really notices the difference since you three have always been close and affectionate to one another. Its only when they catch the three of you kissing that it all clicks.

There’s definitely some of your teammates and friends who just roll their eyes and go “fucking finally.” And your guardians just nod and smile and say they have been waiting for this day for years.

Not much about your guy’s relationship really changes since there’s always been a lot of love and communication, so the only difference if you can kiss now and do a lot more personal things.

You most likely already lived together with Dick, so Wally moves in easily since he probably already lived there half the time. So, its very easy, and you guys are just happy you don’t have to keep your crushes hidden anymore.

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cas-kingdom · 7 months

Text

The Art of Parenting

A/N: This took a lot of time and motivation to finish, so it isn’t my best, but honestly I’m just glad to have it up and posted at this point, haha. Hopefully you enjoy it all the same.

In my OC’s (reader’s) world, our fave seven are no longer together by the time she officially becomes a member of the BAU. But let’s imagine for the sake of this fic that they are. <3

As usual, reader is Spencer’s sister and this fic is entirely platonic.

Title: The Art of Parenting

Summary: On the jet home, you find Hotch in need of some reassurance. And a blanket.

Words: 2634

As unexpected as it was to see the youngest of the unit walk sluggishly down the jet’s aisle, wrapped from head to way behind your toes in a heavy duvet and clutching two pillows to her chest, nobody could say with certainty that it was surprising.

And, frankly, as sudden laughter and teasing remarks shattered the previously dismal atmosphere of the jet typical after a case, nobody could say it wasn’t appreciated.

Between Rossi’s almost disgruntled “Why’d I never think of that?” and Emily and J.J.’s pleas to toss them both a pillow each, Derek pushed his headphones back and breathed a short burst of laughter.

“Oh, Princess, you did not.”

“It’s an eight-hour flight home,” you stated matter-of-factly, “you can bet your ass I did.”

You sat between him and Spencer, the latter absorbed in a book about insects, and crossed your legs beneath you. With little reluctance, as though you’d been expecting as much, you threw the pillows in the direction of Emily and J.J.. A stream of thanks and praises came your way immediately. Sleeping on a long plane ride home was bad enough, but sleeping after five days of running, shooting, yelling, punching, and powered by nothing but caffeine was rough. A pillow was capable of making that sleep the best damn sleep they’d ever had.

“Y/N—” J.J.’s voice was muffled by the pillow she’d stuck her face in—“you’re my lifesaver right now, and I love you.”

Emily pushed herself up on an elbow. “Do you happen to have a sleep mask back there?”

Derek waved her off and sat forward as you made yourself comfortable, spreading your duvet out around you. “Forget about that,” he said, “tell me you brought enough for all of us.”

A general hush encompassed the jet. Rossi leant forward expectantly, one brow quirked, and even Hotch, thus far silent in his own corner as he bent over a pile of paperwork, paused for a moment, his head tilted to await your answer. J.J. was utterly gone, it seemed, though Emily was still waiting for confirmation of a sleep mask.

You gave Derek a look. Derek clucked his tongue and shook his head, sitting back against his seat. You, because you were you, immediately unwrapped yourself from your blanket burrito and handed him a corner so he could pull it across him. Derek’s teasing look of misery dropped in an instant, and he accepted the corner with a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.” With that, he pulled his headphones over his ears and shut his eyes, sinking down the couch enough that the duvet touched his chin.

“Sooo…that’s a no on the sleep mask?”

“Sorry, Em.”

The jet settled again after a sigh and a wave of the hand from Emily. Soft snores were just about audible from underneath J.J.’s pillow, Rossi had made himself comfortable in his seat, head in the palm of his hand, and Hotch’s momentary distraction had not thwarted his determination to finish his work before you landed. You watched him for a moment, noting the trademark crease in his brow as he hunched over documents.

And the man wondered why he got so many headaches.

“Did you know that a ladybug will prepare for a food shortage by laying infertile eggs for her young to eat once they hatch?”

Spencer hadn’t taken his eyes from his page, completely immersed, and wouldn’t have noticed if his sudden statement didn’t even gain a response. Still, instinctively, you turned away from Hotch and towards your brother, peering in total interest down at what he was reading. “Creepy,” you said.

“Resourceful,” Spencer corrected.

“You’re telling me you’d procreate and go through nine months of pregnancy and hours of painful labour only to give the baby away to be eaten by your other kids once it’s born?”

Spencer looked up. A puckered brow temporarily marred his features. “Actually,” he said, “the time taken by ladybugs to lay eggs after mating varies and can sometimes be as little as seven days or as long as two to three months. Once the eggs are laid they can take between three and ten days to hatch.” There were a couple beats of silence, both of you staring at the other, before Spencer sniffed and turned back to his book. “And I can’t get pregnant.”

Years ago, before and at the beginning of his career, sarcasm had been alien to Spencer. Since then, you were proud to say he’d become one with a few more human traits. Teasing being one of them, as was proven when he glanced at you from the corner of his eye and let a playful smile slip onto his face. You breathed a quiet laugh and leant your head against his shoulder when he snuck an arm around you.

“Your pillows have been taken hostage,” he reminded you. His eyes were still following the words in front of him, but he’d slowed his pace. Still an exceptionally abnormal pace, but normal enough that he could read while talking. He lowered his voice a bit, well aware the rest of the plane, save from Hotch, was deep in sleep. “Do we plan a rescue attempt?”

You hummed. “You’re comfy enough.”

Spencer smiled and glanced at his watch. “How about utilising my comfiness and getting some sleep?”

You rose an eyebrow at his subtlety. “You know I stopped being twelve over ten years ago?”

“One of the parenting books I read when you were little said that parenting is a lifetime job and does not stop when a child grows up.”

You looked critically up at him. “What about you?”

“Uh, I think I’ll stay up for a bit and read.”

Needless to say, you knew when you next woke he’d be beaten by sleep. You shuffled down the length of the couch so you could put your head in your brother’s lap and curled your legs beneath you so that you didn’t accidentally kick Derek.

An as yet undetermined amount of time later, you woke to Spencer deeper in sleep than even you had been. His book still in his hand, so close to the end, the genius was slumped against the side of the couch, head lolling uncomfortably back. He had his free hand on your shoulder, an instinctual thing, and as you blinked away the residual drowsiness you squinted at the watch on his wrist. 2:30 am. You hadn’t been sleeping long.

You sat up, careful not to jostle your brother. Derek was still tucked beneath his end of the blanket, his headphones halfway to falling off. You reached across to gently tug them from him before he ended with an ear cushion in his eye.

Emily and J.J. hadn’t moved from beneath their pillows, and Rossi seemed to have stretched himself out across the opposite couch while you’d been asleep.

The gentle hum of the plane’s engine would have caused you to doze off again if it weren’t for the sight of Hotch, still in his corner and hunched over his work. The man was unbelievable.

After a hefty amount of blinking and rubbing, you let loose another yawn before standing to your feet. You noticed Hotch glance up at the movement, and he offered a tired smile as you walked down the plane’s aisle towards him. You had intended on slipping into the seat opposite him but at a sudden remembrance slowed halfway. Hotch frowned lightly and you pointed a finger at him to wait before walking past him and towards where you’d all stored your bags before flying.

When you reappeared with a second duvet even thicker than the one now spread evenly across Spencer and Derek, even Hotch couldn’t refrain from chuckling. He still held his pen in his hand but let his eyes move from his papers for a moment as he sat back.

“What’s this?” he asked.

You smiled as you passed him the duvet, feeling some sense of victory when he didn’t hesitate before taking it. Sitting opposite him, you watched him settle it around himself. It was some solace to see him visibly relax beneath it.

“I knew someone would need it,” you said. Then, after fleeting reluctance, “How much do you wanna bet I knew that someone would be you?”

Hotch, because he truly was not as harsh as those on the outside would consider the permanent lines in his forehead and coarse glint in his eye to mean, chuckled softly. “Nothing, thank you,” he said, resigned.

You breathed a laugh. “How much longer do we have?” You turned in your seat and stretched your legs out across the length of it, leaning back against the wall. The shutter had been pulled down over the window, but you reached over with a finger to crack it open slightly. No light flooded onto Hotch’s workspace, so you imagined there was still a while to go. It didn’t bother you, of course. You knew there was always the possibility that a new case would land in your faces the moment you stepped off the plane. Any slither of solitude in the confinements of the jet was precious.

“Four hours, give or take.” Hotch was silent for a moment, but you had a sense you were suddenly being scrutinised as you continued to peer aimlessly out of the crack in the window. Keeping your head in place, you flicked your eyes to the side, gaining uneasy confirmation when you noticed his gaze on you.

Hotch rose an eyebrow. “What is it?” he asked.

Your eyes involuntarily widened. “Huh?” Hotch let his lips twitch knowingly upwards, and you decided after a moment to reciprocate it. With confidence built up over almost fifteen years in his company, you leant forward and clasped your hands on the table in front of you. “I was going to ask you the same thing,” you said.

He sat back. “I know.”

“I know you know.”

Hotch put his pen down. He absently glanced around the jet, as though assuring himself everyone was still asleep. Then, sighing, he returned his gaze to you. “Jack asked about his mother on the phone this morning.”

You frowned. “I’ve heard Jack talk about Haley before.”

“He has. Really, I encourage it. I wouldn’t want him to forget her. But he…” Hotch hesitated, the words so obviously clinging to the end of his tongue. For as much as he encouraged his team to talk to someone when they were struggling, he certainly didn’t act upon his own advice. Still, the rarity of it and the love you held for him made you the most patient you’d been.

“This morning,” Hotch continued quietly, “he asked specifically about her death.” Another pause, though only so he could take an encouraging breath. “He asked if Haley was shot in the head or the heart. Said he couldn’t remember which.”

You couldn’t say you weren’t taken aback, and Hotch noticed it immediately. He sat up straighter, apprehension entering his posture. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, “I shouldn’t be saying this to you. You don’t need this.”

“Hey.” You shook your head to make sure he knew he’d gotten the wrong idea. “Neither do you. Share the load a bit. It’s okay.”

His gratitude was obvious as he relaxed a bit, sitting back against his seat and staring out the crack in the window. It was still dark, but the light from the moon highlighted the clouds as you passed. He found it easy to focus on them as he arranged his thoughts.

“He’s growing up,” he concluded eventually, “and he’s becoming more curious about his mom…it’s natural, I know, but it’s…”

“Terrifying?”

Hotch shrugged in defeat, yet a smile still pulled at his lips. “I’m not sure how Spencer did it with you,” he admitted.

You lifted yourself slightly to peer over the back of the seat. Your brother was still deep in sleep, utter innocence on his face. You found yourself smiling still when you sat back down to look at him. “You did it too, you know,” you said. At Hotch’s silence, you continued. “It wasn’t just Spence raising me. Of course, he did the majority of it, but I was nine when I met the rest of the team. You all raised me, you all had to let go of the fact I wasn’t a kid anymore at some point. If you can do it with me, you can do it again with Jack, I promise you.”

Hotch hadn’t thought about it like that, but your presence in the team always brought about new angles. It was true that Spencer’s addition to the team had included his younger sister, and it was also true that, whether prepared for it or not, they had all been surrogate parents to you in at least some way throughout your life. They had watched you grow up, imparted their own life lessons, and, yes, at some point, they had had to accept the fact that you didn’t need them quite so much anymore. He seemed to remember his own awakening had been when you’d come into his office at eighteen with a mug of coffee after claiming for years the taste was too bitter. Somehow, seeing you sat opposite him with one leg crossed over the other and occasionally sipping at your latte, realisation had snuck up on him that you absolutely was no longer the nine-year-old he’d used to have to clean chocolate from.

In more ways than one, the reminder soothed his soul, the parts of it aching for his little boy to remain little for just a while longer. He had always been afraid of the process, perhaps because each year Jack grew older marked another year without Haley.

With a hum of acknowledgement, Hotch ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Really. That’s helped.”

“Sometimes you just need a reminder,” you said. “You’ve done it before. Sure, this time will be a little different, but you’ve got the tools to make it work.”

Hotch frowned playfully. “Haven’t I said those exact words to you before?”

“No comment.”

He laughed then, with not much regard to the others sleeping on the plane, before stretching an arm out in obvious invitation. You felt a warmth immediately settle within you as you got up to sit beside him, settling in between him and his arm and accepting the bit of the duvet he passed along to you. You were a creature of habit, and since a child you had always found your comfort in the arms of one of the BAU team members, whoever happened to be closest. Such a comfort had naturally been less sought after as you’d grown older, especially from Hotch, but it only meant each offer from him was appreciated more.

“And don’t worry about Jack’s questions,” you whispered, shutting your eyes. “I remember having the same curiosities about my parents when I was growing up. I just wanted to know more about them, about myself.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be getting more.”

“Hmm.”

“Thanks again, Y/N.”

You yawned, the lull of the plane catching up to you once again. You leaned further into Hotch’s side and absently pat his hand sitting at your shoulder. Already half asleep, you murmured an “It’ll be okay”, not even reacting when Hotch pressed a small kiss to the crown of your head and pushed the documents he’d been working on to the other side of the table. He closed his own eyes, feeling somewhat at peace, with, really, the first of both his kids in his arms.

And if the team’s next go bags were mostly stuffed with pillows, blankets, and sleep masks…none of the jet’s staff ever mentioned it.

Criminal Minds Masterpost

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madame-fear · 1 year

Text

♡ Dating Headcanons | Lucerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader ♡

quick a/n : hello all !! I know i don't usually write about this, but oh well i love writing for new characters & fandoms 💖 I hope you all enjoy this since it's my first time writing something for HOTD so i'm very nervous !! 😭 i wrote this at 2 am (my fave hour to write & read hehe), so apologies for any mistake such as grammar, or spelling mistakes. Not proofread as always. also, big // !! SPOILER ALERT !! // but let's pretty please pretend he's not dead, yes? thank u all.

Note aside: I do not take requests for HOTD, and Gif not mine.

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• Him being literally the quiet, awkwardly shy one in the relationship. Don't worry, he'll open up eventually – baby steps with him, please. He's just a lil' babe who's never had a real relationship before.

• Has literally heart eyes for you but is so awkward when it comes to expressing his love adoration for you, oh no –

• Physical contact (such as: hugging, kissing, cuddling, etc) definitely being something that might take him a while to fully get used to. The main reason to this, is because he gets tremendously shy & nervous when he has to have some sort of physical contact with you. The only thing he can do without becoming a blushing mess is holding your hand, and having you grabbing his arm.

• Spoils you. A lot. He loves picking the best flowers in the garden only to give them to you, gifts you jewellery (necklaces, earrings, bracelets, etc), little pins/adornments for your hair/dresses – all things like that are his own little way of expressing his love for you.

• Something you often do together, is ride Arrax while everybody's asleep. Nobody's watching, and the two of you can be alone all by yourselves.

• Of course, you were extremely nervous about it at first, since you had never ridden a dragon before – but, he reassured you by telling you that you were going to be okay, and that he'd teach you about how to properly ride a dragon.

• When you had to ride Arrax together, and had him teaching you about how to ride dragons, he had to sit right behind you, and pull you very tightly close to his chest, and of course, he had to grab your hands as well – which obviously made the two of you extremely blushy & all shy, but you had to keep it cool until you both got used to it.

• Riding Arrax together is now a daily night routine, in which you both use to spend some quality time together without anybody interrupting you.

• Eventually, the more time he spends with you, he'll begin to get comfortable with the idea of physical contact without, at least, being at the edge of dying from nervousness. Of course, when he kisses or hugs you, he still becomes a blushing mess – but he's not as nervous and shy as he used to be. I feel like he's kinda touchstarved honestly, so expect him to get a bit clingy with you once he's fully comfy.

• The physical contact started with small kisses on your forehead, cheeks, and then, your lips. Of course, he had given you some kisses before, but they were always hurried, nervous quick pecks on your cheeks and that was all. Now, as he got a bit more 'confident' in your relationship, the kisses would be so gentle, slow, and loving – and he always loves placing a hand on your cheek and slightly stroke it while kissing you.

• HAND/KNUCKLES KISSES ARE OFTEN WITH HIM TOO 💖 He loves both your hands and cheeks, he thinks they're so soft and delicate.

• He's definitely such a huge soft, gentle sweetheart with you. Always making sure you feel loved and taken care of by him.

• Most of the time, he talks to you about his insecurities, since you are the person he trusts the most, and also, adores. He loves the fact that you never fail to make him feel much better, and more confident in himself.

• ^ Sometimes, simply being there for him with your presence is also enough to make him feel soothed, and comforted.

• He might not be a very courageous person, but he certainly does his best to look brave & definitely not scared in front of you; only so you can be impressed by him.

• Referring to him as "your protector". And he absolutely loves it when you refer to him as your one and only protection.

• His whole family loving you so much, and being particularly close to his mum.

• He's not particularly someone who easily gets jealous, because he knows that your love only belongs to him, and you are just as faithful as he is. But, sometimes, he can't help but feel a tiny spark of jealousy when he sees another boy/man talking to you, or even, having the audacity to flirt with you.

• ^ After seeing several people trying to flirt with you (and failing), he'd definitely do things to show off to the others that you're his, such as: hand holding in public, calling you by sweet nicknames, and kissing your cheek.

• His nickname for you would mostly be "love", "dear", and "my darling".

• Literally him thinking so highly of you. You're literally the most precious thing he's ever seen in his life, and he'd do anything to protect you.

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idk why i got all shy and giggly while writing this, i hope you all LIKED IT AHHHHHGJnHg

#lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon headcanons #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon headcanons #lucerys velaryon imagine #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #house of the dragon x you #lucerys targaryen x reader #lucerys strong x reader #fluff headcanons #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

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maxwell-grant · 1 month

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Thoughts on the master of fear, Scarecrow? Also, fave design, he has so many good ones (second BTAS, his trading card one, mistress of fear, Gaslight,, fear for sale, the Arkham Games etc)?

Hey so, do any of you remember Batman Live? It was this really fun, extravagant stage show that touched on a lot of Batman hallmarks and was generally a really fun time as far as I recall. I went to the São Paulo premiere with my family, and I was a little too young to really recall most of it now, but some things I definitely remember like the huge Joker hot air balloon made of performers in bodypaint, or the comedy sequences in the Iceberg Lounge. The one thing that stuck with me the most was when the Scarecrow showed up. Batman goes to Arkham Asylum and the entire comedy camp tone drops dead, as he walks in and finds all these bodies in straightjackets hanging from chains, and the doors open as The Scarecrow walks towards him in stilts, summoning loud smoke eruptions that are poisoning and weakening Batman as he leers over him. That part actually did scare me as a kid, and it was probably the first time I had any kind of feelings on Scarecrow imprinted in me.

I was introduced to The Scarecrow as this uniquely horrifying villain who could terrify through presentation alone. I didn't particularly understand what the fear gas was, I was too taken with that ungainly thing up there with the stilts and all those people turned into cadaverous decorations, lurking from the endless halls of the asylum, who towered over everyone and placed Batman into a writhing breakdown with a few gestures, and never appeared again until the cast roll, completely absent from the rogues gatherings after. Granted, of course that's because the stilts prevented him from joining the fight scenes, but that helped to reinforce his mystery. He wasn't someone Batman was going to punch back, no no, the Scarecrow simply vanished as soon as he was done with disarming Batman, and you'd just have to pray for that unfathomable creep to never show up again.

And I'd say this might be part of why I've never been too big on the fear gas, in part because I was first enraptured by a version of The Scarecrow who clearly didn't need it that much, or at least, could do much more besides it. The Scarecrow is, I'd say actually one of my top 10 DC characters, half of that on the basis of his designs, but he's a character who tends to really, really struggle under a lack of cohesion and being subordinate to his gimmick, much more so than the other rogues. The fear gas is a good gimmick, but it is just that, a gimmick, and one that's usually reliant on how far can the story push the horror and the visuals to at least make it effectively scary for us, otherwise it gets incredibly boring very fast, and it's not even a gimmick exclusive to him since so many other characters have similar mind control/illusion abilities/gadgetry at hand (and to say nothing of Hugo Strange, who first used fear gas and who quite frankly kicks the Scarecrow's ass in terms of quality storylines, although Hugo does that to most of the other Batman villains too)

The Scarecrow has become the go-to character for hallucination sequences / revisiting character traumas, which frequently makes him less of a character and more so a convenient plot device, a problem heightened by the larger issue here that is his inconsistent motivation, or lack thereof. He lacks the kind of "breakout" stories that his fellow major Batman villains have had that usually cement an ongoing characterization, and his most famous/celebrated appearences in mass media don't really do much to combat the assertion that he is shallow and weak and whose only asset is the gas (namely, his boss fights in Arkham Asylum, which are all about the fear gas hallucination scares, and his role in Nolan's Batman, which is very fun, but also purposefully plays him up for ridicule and lack of depth next to the other villains)

These days, the Scarecrow is a tedious pip-squeak. His schemes lack verve, his cruelties stir little in the way of frissons. Haunted by cliché to an even greater extent than the other rogues, he’s often brought low with a single sock to the jaw delivered by Batman, or by finding himself on the receiving end of his own fear-inducing concoctions. He often acts as a pawn in the hands of bigger, badder third parties. He’s ostensibly a stand-in for the figure of the reductive, smug and hypocritical psychologist, nicely bundled up for the audience to humiliate in effigy - TheMindlessOnes's rogue review for Scarecrow

In "Nothing to Fear" it is explained that Jonathan Crane has always had this "thing" for scaring people. (Just as Snidely Whiplash had his "thing" for tying women to railroad tracks, I suppose.) But this is a wan kind of motive. One senses sadly that the real motive for the Scarecrow's behavior lies in the writer's need for someone to do something reprehensible. At the root of the matter may be a difficulty in sorting out the Scarecrow's ends from his means, with a consequent confusion between the goals the Scarecrow intends to reach and the tactics he employs in reaching them.

As a psychologist specializing in phobic disorders, Crane knows how to induce fear and trembling in his victims. But this tells us nothing about what the Scarecrow wants to accomplish. And without a sense or statement of what those goals are, the writer will be tempted to substitute means for end and make the Scarecrow's goal simply the scaring of people. Usually his actions are woefully underexplained - Dreams in Darkness' review by Toonzone

You might think that I'd be advocating for the Scarecrow, then, to disregard a need for a motivation and become as unknowable and horrific as possible, to recapture the awe I felt at his Batman Live self, but no, not at all. For one, I don't think the best version of anything is necessarily the one that made the most impact on me as a kid. Two, there have been some attempts over the years to remove Scarecrow from the toxin or seriously amp him up as a threat, and frankly, most of those have only made the character dramatically worse and more boring (I don't remember the name, but there was a Batman story a while ago where he goes on a big scary killing spree with no toxin just to prove he can and it was fucking terrible). Three, and the big one here, is that this pretty much forces you to get rid of Dr. Jonathan Crane, and I think that does a disservice to the character's potential. I think that's giving up on trying to make him work as a character and I don't think you have to do that.

My preferred characterization for Crane is one that emphasizes his nature as a scholar turned supervillain. The cold and misanthropic and neurotic nerd professor who spent most of his salary on books and took to terrorizing the city as a costumed criminal in part because he wanted money to buy more books. Who takes off the costume mid-crime spree to school his henchmen on specifics of brain chemistry, who gets revenge on those that wrong his students or even employs them as henchmen, still the same guy who thinks there's nothing wrong with firing a loaded gun in a packed classroom as a demonstration. Far less interested in human connections than he is in human reactions, things that can surprise him or that he can catalogue or research or write about. Someone who's not a sadist for sadism's sake, but who doesn't really see you as a person so much as he sees a test subject. I like Crane as a snarky humorous heel who thinks of himself as amoral and mature while doing horribly immoral and childish things, the Herbert West or Rusty Venture of Batman villains (James Urbaniak is definitely the voice I'd pick for him).

My preferred kind of motivation for him is something along the lines of how he's portrayed in most of Kings of Fear, where he puts Batman through the wringer in part as an attempt to get to him and cure him once and for all, or issues #4-5 of The Batman Adventures where he induces city-wide illiteracy in part as a protest against the city's failing education. In Gothtopia he makes all of Gotham hallucinate their perfect ideal lives, eliminating the crime rate but causing the suicide rate to spike up in return, and yes it does turn out to be the set-up for a really generic "fear gas everyone with blimps and make everyone twice as scared" pay off when his involvement is revealed, but I always thought Scarecrow being able and willing to do that, to create these huge and even benevolent-seeming social experiments, as an idea with legs. Fear State was frustratingly halfway there, with the initial set-up of Scarecrow pursuing a theory for fear-based social upheaval, but on top of not being very good, it also wound up that he was just doing the same old thing again and had Batman call him out as someone who just wanted to gas the city and make everyone scared again and never changes and does anything different, which seemed like Tynion defeating his own purpose of trying to make a defining Scarecrow story and address his lack of one, completely failing to address the why the character has that kind of problem and upending itself for meta commentary before doing anything interesting.

Even Kings of Fear, easily the best Scarecrow story of the past decades if not outright ever, kinda ends in a bit of a cop-out where The Scarecrow has to be wrong ("Even when he's telling the truth, he's lying, and even when he's right, he's wrong", Gordon tells Batman to reassure him, to nullify the past 5 issues criticizing and tearing into Batman from every angle imaginable), and he has to be a sadist who just wanted to fuck with Batman and uncover his worst fears because it's what he does. Why does Scarecrow want to unravel people and wrench their worst fears into the surface? Because he's a sadist who gets off on it? I guess that's the canon answer most of the time, but it's such a boring, weak one. Because he wants revenge on the world / bullies? Still weak, done better by other villains even. Because of an unspeakably traumatic childhood that taught him the world was ruled by fear and therefore driving him to become it's master? Okay, but it still doesn't actually answer what he wants to get out of doing what he does.

We know that Jonathan Crane was a fragile youth routinely terrorized and abused by others and plainly traumatized by his experiences. We know that he is learned and brilliant and given to introspection and fantasy.

From this base it is not hard to imagine Crane turning into a man fiercely devoted to solitude and study and capable of a murderous rage when his privacy is violated. It is possible, in other words, to imagine him as a reactive force, in the mold of Freeze, systematically terrorizing and destroying anyone who crosses him but rarely wanting to start trouble himself.

Or we can imagine him as a mercenary, a specialist hired by others for nefarious purposes, but who is not himself strongly motivated by particular rages or desires.

But if the Scarecrow is going to remain a sadist and a sadist only—if he is going to be moved only by the psychotic desire to harm others—we ought to be made to feel the seductive power that sadism has over its practitioners; we should be made to feel and appreciate the hot and sour joy that comes from the purposeful humiliation of another - Dreams in Darkness review by Toonzone

It's kind of a frustrating pattern in a lot of his stories where he gives a reason for doing something, and it turns out to be a cover for yet another sadistic fear gas attack, but his cover reason was a more interesting motivation for him than what he actually was going for. A villain who mainly just gets a kick out of hurting people and concocts bullshit excuses and reasons to justify said hurting? The Joker does that already, but the Joker always clearly states what he wants and has all those ways to make cruelty for cruelty's sake entertaining. If that's all The Scarecrow is also, no wonder he's going to be so incredibly lacking most of the time (nevermind the fact that he's never going to be the guy most infamous for gassing Gotham City).

Yes, he may be sadistic and cruel, he may enjoy what he does too much, and maybe there really isn't any kind of realistic explanation as to why a man would dress up as a scarecrow to commit terrorism and spray innocent people with chemicals to make them terrified, but refer to the guy he's fighting. "Realistic" is the wrong term. The issue here is less "why" the Scarecrow does what he does, and more what is he hoping to get out of it. Granted, this is less of a concern if you're playing The Scarecrow as a figure of horror, someone who's not even really human underneath that outfit. But I think that locks away much of his versatility. The Scarecrow needs Jonathan Crane, and I think there's good stuff to like about that awful man.

I like Jonathan Crane the sardonic pragmatic scientist who still embraces his hopelessly ridiculous life, a guy who's not nearly as above it all as he'd like to be and has wants and needs moreso than he really likes to admit. I like him as a book lover, as a fan of horror, I like him as the kind of guy who'd send fan mail to Elvira and break out of Arkham just to catch a Halloween parade and guest star in a Scooby-Doo movie for a change. I like him as someone who'd have a decent working relationship with the other rogues and pal with the Legion of Doom and get into a physical spat with Riddler over a chess game. Someone who custom-makes his own outfits and equipment, who makes scythes out of animal bones to fight Batman with, who picked the scarecrow motif in part because it was a term of derision his colleagues used on him.

Who pours himself over his research as he records his theories in a tape recorder, the kind of guy who grouses at having to clean another cell because he's getting annoyed at his test subjects killing themselves, seriously guys the cleaning supplies for this batch were as fresh as they could be, and the iguana amygdalas I used should be stopping your neocortexes from overreacting this strongly. Subject #3 over there got over his fear of centipedes yesterday and he hasn't screamed all morning, I'm gonna need the rest of you to stop being such babies, okay?

It must be terribly liberating for Crane, to transcend mere ugliness and become inhuman. Of all the rogues, he’s easily the one who takes Batman’s “I need a disguise; I shall become a beast of the night” schtick and runs with it the farthest - TheMindlessOnes's rogue review for Scarecrow

And that's for Jonathan Crane, man of science. The Scarecrow, however, is not science, he is unreason incarnate, and to me what most makes The Scarecrow work as a Batman villain has nothing to do with "they both use fear as a weapon", I always thought that was a bit shallow of an angle to pursue (most, if not all, the villains rely on fear, it comes with the whole "crime" thing). The two have a stronger connection via the costume, the theatricality, the becoming a creature of the night angle. None of the other major Batman villains are going into their costumes the way The Scarecrow is. They have their personas and varying degrees of division between them and their "real selves", but few of them are wearing outright identity-separating Halloween Monster Costumes with separate names and personalities they can dip in and out of at their convenience.

And I'm gonna interrupt myself to answer your second question. I couldn't pick just one design, so counting the Batman Live one above, I picked 10. These are not in order and they're not necessarily how I'd design him, I'd say my actual favorite Scarecrow designs are fan-made, but if I was going to pick out of "official" material these are the ones I'd go for. It's time for:

(Left-to-right: George Pratt's Scarecrow pin-up, Phil Jimenez's Scarecrow design, Ed Natividad's concept art for Suicide Squad)

(Left-to-right: His TNBA design by Bruce Timm as drawn by Luciano Vecchio, Alex Ross's design for Justice, and Tim Sale's Scarecrow)

(Left-to-right: Kelley Jones' design for Kings of Fear, Jeremy Raapack's design for Legends of the Dark Knight #25, Scarecrow's design in Happy Halloween, Scooby-Doo!)

*cough*, anyway: Most of the other rogues with their signature suits or masks or body distortions don't tend to have closets full of different variant Batsuits and scarecrow costumes to choose and devote to their cause and ideal, that they sit at night tailoring on how to make scarier or more loaded with weapons, that they might even have conversations with, things that sit in their closets waiting because both of these brilliant men, men who have (or at least had) different civilian lives, men who could stop doing this at any time, who both decided that becoming a Halloween monster prowling the streets to inflict terror is a necessary, even productive use of their time.

And I think that's the key word I want to end here, productive. I think The Scarecrow needs to be more productive. Because even if he's not aware of it, he is achieving progress via his research, and there is one way he's proved his ideas: Batman walks out of every fight they have stronger. Every encounter they have is a test that Batman resists and walks out of more able to cope with his own traumas, or at least, better able to resist them being weaponized against him. I always wanted to explore the idea that Crane is genuinely convinced he's doing people a favor or at least achieving something via all these horrible Scarecrow campaigns, and one thing he has achieved is that Batman is never not prepared for chemical attacks or assaults on his mind, Batman resists ungodly trials of willpower and determination and courage, in part because he has to deal with the Scarecrow pumping terror juice in his brain semi-regularly.

The fact that Crane loses and gets beaten up and has to retry schemes again and again and kill people and join the costume parade just to lure Batman is fairly inconsequential to him, so long as it gets results. He's not interested in dissecting Batman's brain or being more like Batman, that's Hugo Strange's thing. Hugo Strange needs Batman to be fearless, allmighty and perfect, where as Jonathan Crane wants nothing more than to unearth and study the fears and kinks in the armor, the dead last thing he wants is a perfect man. Hugo Strange wants to crawl naked into the mask of the great and terrible fascist and never come out, where as The Scarecrow wants to crack open all the masks in the world and feast luridly on whatever seeps out.

Batman isn't just the ultimate trial against his fear-ruled worldview (or even affirmation), and he isn't just a breakthrough waiting to happen: he might be his greatest success as of yet. A case study on the success of exposure therapy, proof of potential medicinal applications for his formula, the greatest guinea pig of all time because he won't die no matter what you pump into him, you name it. So what if all those other people couldn't stomach the procedure, so what if those precious innocents are too weak and stupid and useless to not get in the way of research, it's clearly worked wonders for those who could take it.

And if the future belongs to men like Batman, if all of these superheroes and supervillains are the way things are going to be like forever, if the future is Bat-shaped and as vast and uncertain and horrible as the forces shaping it, the future needs to be prepared. The future needs to grapple with it's past and face it's greatest horrors and become stronger for it. There is no such thing as overcoming fear, there is only living with it, embracing it, bowing to the primordial instinct that knows the answer before you do. Mankind grew and developed it's intelligence and tools out of fear, fear of the bigger predators out there, fear of the other cavemen, fear of starvation and death and everything they couldn't understand and master until they learned to fear it. What better knowledge to pass along than fear? And who is better qualified to teach about fear?

Maybe Crane isn't just another monster with a grudge, maybe he isn't another costumed revenge killer, maybe he isn't just a power-tripping sadist bully out to torment others because he can, and maybe he isn't a hopeless traumatized madman who destroyed his professional and personal life in a monstrous quest to satisfy an obsession ruling his soul.

Maybe he is a sane response to an insane situation. Ever heard that one before?

#replies tag #superheroes #batman #dc comics #scarecrow #the scarecrow #jonathan crane #gotham city

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scarletwinterxx · 7 months

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loving you is easy - mark lee imagine

hiiiii, 127 cb i have been summoned😅 for the past few weeks i've been inactive on all socmeds, sorry for the very few and slow posts. anyways, let's talk Fact Check haha what's your fave track? i think mine's Parade. the vocals in that one is soooo good.

So yeah i hope you like this one, i'll be back when I can💛🌻

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"It's one plane ride away, I'll be there in 3 months"

"That's 3 months too long" he grumbles, still pouting as he zips the last of his luggage. Mark hated being away for you, too many days and nights your time zone's don't line up. By the time it's morning for you, he'll be saying goodnight.

But now, things are about to change. This will be the last time you're saying goodbye to him for a long time but he doesn't know that. For now it's your little secret.

"It'll fly by fast, just like every other time. Now come here and give me cuddles, stop pouting like a kid" you tease him, opening your arms to welcome him.

Feeling his arms go around you, you further confirmed a fact you've known for years. The two of you can be continents away from each other, but your heart will always stay with one another. Mark really has become your home and in his arms are where you feel the safest and most loved.

"If you're sad then it's gonna make me sad, I don't want the last night to be all tears" you tell him, feeling his embrace tighten against you. He kisses the top of your head a few times before letting you go.

"You're right, sorry. No more sulking, it's just 3 months then you'll come to me" he smiles at you, the cute little dimple you love so much appearing on his cheek. You stand on your tiptoe to kiss it, savoring the warmth of him against your lips.

And you were right, the 3 months did fly by fast. Mainly because you were busy packing your apartment to move to another continent. You didn't keep much apart from your stuff and some of Mark's. It's kind of hard to travel with everything so you got rid of what you can.

The only person who knew you were coming was Johnny, who is currently waiting for you at the airport. Easily spotting the 6 foot Chicago guy from a distance.

"There she is! About time you got here, I don't think I can take another day of Mark whining about how much he misses you" he jokes, giving you a quick hug and taking your stuff to carry it himself.

"He doesn't know I'm coming, I'm suppose to fly out this weekend" you tell him while following behind

"Oh believe me I know, he won't let us forget"

You chuckle at his story, just thinking about surprising Mark makes you grin.

He dropped you off at Mark's apartment, you're familiar with the place since you've stayed here every time you fly over. What he doesn't know is you're here to stay with him for good.

It did took a lot of courage to make this decision but you didn't doubt it for a second. You know there's no other place you'd rather call home than where he is.

For a couple of hours you rested, cleaned the few dishes on the sink and picked up the towel he threw on the floor. A habit you knew he had, you've had that talk with him more than a few times and he always promises he won't do it again. You let him off the hook, for now.

You were in the bedroom when you hear someone by the door. Mark entered his place, tired from the whole day of work to notice the other pair of shoes by the door.

He threw his bag by the couch, along with his coat. He then walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, resting against the counter while he drinks and take a moment to look around.

This time he notices the dishes he was suppose to do this morning was gone. He brushed it off thinking he must've just forgotten he already did it. He then walked to the bedroom, the first thing he noticed was the towel that he definitely threw by the bed this morning. He remembers it because he's been thinking about it all day and how you'll be mad if you found out he threw it on the floor yet again.

He looks around, checking to see anything missing or different just in case someone broke in. But who would clean up if they're here to steal, he thoughts.

Mark then walks towards the bathroom to check, nothing there too so he walks back the bedroom. Just when he was about to go outside, you jumped out of your hiding spot to surprise him

"SURPRISE!"

"WHAT THE F- OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE" you didn't even get the chance to walk towards him because he's already running to you. Picking you up in an embrace.

"Is this for real or am I dreaming?" you hear him mumble

You giggle, patting him on the back so he could put you down. "This is real silly. I'm really here" you tell him.

He grabs you by the face and kisses you. As his lips lands on yours, he knew this was really real. You're actually here with him.

You can feel him smile against your lips, tilting your head to the side to kiss him deeper. Too many days wish he was with you, now he's here and you're not going to let go that easily.

He walks backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed. Landing on it gently with you still in his arms. You straddle his legs while the two of you get lost in each others kisses.

"Okay okay wait a sec" you giggle, pushing your lover away gently. Mark follows your lips though, kissing you a few more times before he lets you go but not too far.

"When did you get here?" he asks you

"Today, Johnny picked me up at the airport so I could surprise you" you tell him, your hands intertwine around his shoulders.

"I could've come and pick you up" he pouts.

Oh your sweet sweet boy.

You smile at him, rubbing your nose against his. Feeling like you're on cloud nine now that you're back together.

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise" you tell him, speaking of surprise you can't wait to see his reaction once you tell him your news.

"How long are you staying? I can take a few days off so we can go out" he tells you excitedly.

For you he would do just about anything. He can put his world on pause, stop everything for you.

"About that..."

"What? You can't stay that long?" he asks, already feeling sad but he tries not to let you see it.

"Actually, I'm not gonna go back" you tell him, not sure how to break the news to him either

"Huh?"

"Surprise number 2 I guess, I wanted to tell you for months now but I waited until everything is settled. So yeah. I'm here to stay, that is if you're looking for a roommate?" you ask

Mark didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, your words still processing in his mind.

"You mean you're staying here, with me ? Here? and you're not going to fly back? You're staying with me?"

You can't help but laugh lightly at him, pulling him closer once again to kiss him

"I'm gonna stay right here" you whisper, looking straight into his eyes.

"But what about your work? your friends? I can't ask you to leave your life there"

"Baby you're not asking me, I want to. I have friends here too, I can call my friends there and we can visit them. Plus you're my bestfriend. As for work, it just so happened they were looking for someone to relocate here to Korea. It was like fate wanted me to be here"

"Are you sure? I don't want you to give up everything, I don't mind the flights-"

"You do, I do. We both do. We just never said it outloud because we didn't want to be sad, but all I can think of when you're not around is how much I want to be with you. To be honest it's harder for me to be there than moving here where I know I could be with you"

He looks at you, trying to find the words to say

"Are you really really sure?" he asks again

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't. So you're stuck with me, for good" you tease a smile out of him

"It's hard for me too. It's the hardest when I'm so tired and I come back here and all I can think of is how much I want to come home to you. Every flight away from you was never easy"

"I know"

"So I guess this is your anniversary present?" he jokingly asks, you get off of his lap to stand up.

"It'll be hard to top this one" you joke

"I can just ask you to marry me" he says ever so casually, not missing how your cheeks reddened. You hit him lightly making your boyfriend laugh

"Hey, that's not fair"

"You're the one who's stuck me, you know I'm never letting you go now?"

"Good, cause I'm not going anywhere. Here's to 7 more years"

He smile at you before standing up to hug you again,

As you stare at each other eyes you can't help but feel this warm sensation in your chest. You really are home.

"I read somewhere that our cells change every 7 years or so" you mumble, he hums waiting for you to continue

"It's been 7 years since we first met, and until now I still feel the same way about you. I want every cell in my body to know what it feels like to love you, I want it to never forget how warm and lovely it feels it be in love with you. 7 years from now, 14 years and until the last cycle of this life, I want all of me to love all of you"

He stares at you, soaking each word coming out of your lips like a spell enchanting him. Making him fall even deeper in love with you.

"You know they say love isn't easy, but loving you is easy. It's like it's the only thing my heart and soul was made for. Every thought in my head, awake or even in my dreams, is always you" he tells you.

You can feel the tears starting to build up from too much happiness you're feeling right now.

"Wanna hear something crazy?" you mumble

"Do tell" he chuckles

"If you ask me to marry you right now, I'd say yes"

He smiles at you before closing the distance once again, like he just sealed a promise. Speaking a silent vow to make that come true, maybe tonight or tomorrow or 7 days/months from now. All he knows is he will live this life with you.

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yanderes-galore · 2 years

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yandere ghostface (billy pls! if you want, you could also/or do stu) and scared darling. shes friends with with him, best friends even. suddenly murders and they couldnt be more scared, calling him up with broken sobs and apologies for bothering him so late but you’re just.. so scared. maybe you inv him over or whatever u wanna write 😁 (its friday the 13 >> even if its late, still gotta rq my fave!)

You got it! Sorry for the long wait :( Excited to write a Slasher again!

Anxiety

Yandere! Billy Loomis Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Yandere behavior, Obsession, Anxiety, Paranoia, Death, Graphic descriptions of murder/death, Blood mention, Possessive behavior, Forced kissing, Forced relationship, Manipulation, Sadism.

Billy Loomis, someone you called a best friend. One who was brave, flirtatious, and someone you felt could protect you. Even if you were just best friends... you felt close to him.

Your 'relationship' was tame for the longest time. Then the murders started happening. Ones that terrified you to your core.

You heard how they all started. A phone call at night, you're asked a question, getting it right or wrong kills you....

Upon hearing the news you decided to not go to school anymore. Instead you had someone pick up your school work and take it to your home until you felt it safe to go outside. Something Billy, your dearest friend, didn't seem to enjoy.

"I never see you at school anymore... you really that scared?"

You feel embarrassed to admit to him that you are that scared. In response he pouts and does his best to comfort you. Sure, he can be insensitive at times, but he does what he can to help you.

You were too scared to notice your friend acting weird. He was at your house frequently. Often being a bit too touchy to be comforting.

Yet he claims he does it in good heart.

You think your anxiety hits its peak when you hear about more morbid news.

Recently, your other friends had become victims to this killer going around. Entrails scattered along the ground, throats bubbling blood out from their wounds. Upon hearing the news, you couldn't take it.

Late at night you dash to your phone, dialing the number of Billy. The one person you felt you could trust.

A bit too quickly, Billy picks up. His 'Hello' sounds tired until he hears your choked sobs. By then he sounds more awake.

"(Y/N)? What's up?"

"Billy, I'm so damn scared..."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"The news... haven't you seen it? There were more murders. All of... my friends-"

You take a moment to gulp down a sob.

"Do you think the killer will come after me next?"

Billy goes silent for a moment before answering in a soft tone.

"No... I don't think they will. Did you want me to come over? I'll help make it all better."

"That'd be great, thank you."

You then hang up the phone and sit on your couch. Anxious thoughts eat away within you for what feels like hours until you hear a knock at the door.

"(Y/N), I'm here. Let me in, okay?"

You rush to the door and throw it open, lunging at your friend with a shiver. Billy recoiled but hugs back before nudging you back into your house.

"Poor thing... you're really scared, aren't you?"

You nod, eyes watering as tears drip down your cheeks. Billy rubs away your tears in a comforting manner to calm you down. Once you calm a little more you then sit on the couch beside him.

"Of course I am. I've been scared since the first murder. Now... my friends are all dead-"

You hiccup, Billy taking your hands in his.

"But you still have me...!"

You look at him with clouded vision, sniffing softly.

"I do now. Yet what if you die like them? Then I'll be alone... I can't trust anyone to make new friends."

"You don't need to make new friends."

Billy's voice turns stern, gaze hardening for just a moment. You look at him with concern. Was he also on edge?

"Billy, what-"

"In fact, I wasn't very fond of those previous friends you had."

You narrow your eyes, fear subsiding momentarily.

"Oh, cut it out! Now's not the time to-"

"I had to tell you at some point. You didn't seem to get it. I didn't like any of them. Don't even get me started on that one who'd bring you your work when you left school. I would've loved to do that for you."

You're in shock at Billy's rant. You try to pull your hands away, but Billy pulls them back.

"You're so cute when scared... it's not like you can run when you've already let me in, anyway."

You give a scared and confused expression before realization hits you. Shock then paints itself upon your face, it couldn't be...

He did it, didn't he?

"I had to ask Stu to help, but we both enjoyed it. We killed them and I had so much FUN scrambling their guts and slashing their throats."

A grin is on his face at your mortified expression. Like a deer in headlights... you were frozen. Completely speechless at his sins.

"But now? Now, I have you. All alone, clinging to me for comfort because... let's face it?"

Your pushed down on the couch, the murderer crawling over you and pining you down.

"I'm all you have now. You won't need any other person, because you have me. Your new psychotic, yet adoring, boyfriend."

A kiss is then forced upon your lips before he pulls away.

"Aren't I right, baby?"

#yandere slasher #yandere slashers #yandere scream #yandere ghostface #yandere billy loomis

2K notes · View notes

444rockstargf · 9 months

Note

so i was wondering, what if reader is obsessed with charlie as he is with her, and she does all the weird things he did, like recording him without him knowing, then one day she'll see what he's doing in his room and he's seeing what she's doing in her room, and they're both like "what?!"

love this idea, thanks for requesting! <3

"think about you almost all the time." | charlie walker

meet me in the pale moonlight - lana del rey (my personal fave)

gn!reader x charlie

contents: stalking, a little fluff

you had only talked to charlie once in your whole life, and it was just a simple interaction at the beginning of freshman year but he always seemed so different from every other guy at woodsboro high school so you took it into your own hands to learn everything about him he was the president of cinema club, so you made sure to show up everytime you snuck pictures of him whenever he wasn't looking pictures of him smiling, laughing, and doing innocent little things that made your mind run wild it had become your cute little hobby you were obsessed with him. completely head over heels. so when he invited to over to his house for a movie marathon, you couldn't contain your excitement you picked out your nicest outfit before making your way to his house charlie greeted you at the door with a warm smile, and you wished that you could take of picture of him at that moment he ushered you inside, handing you a drink. your fingers touched for a fraction of a second, but that was all it took for a dumb little smile to spread across your face you notice him eyeing you throughout the movie. he was finally noticing you, and you didn't know how to feel about it you asked to go to the restroom, and he pointed the way one wrong turn led you into his bedroom. you wanted to turn around and pretend you didn't just trespass, but you were finally inside of charlies bedroom. this opened a new realm of opportunities. you look around his room, fascinated by everything in sight. something sticking out from under his pillow catches your eye you pull it out and discover that its a photo album with your name on the front you flip through it, discovering many pictures of you at random moments you reach into charlies pillow case, finding a pair of your underwear that you'd been looking for for month you hear a gasp at the door, causing you to jump. it was charlie, and he was red with embarassment

you just stared at eachother in silence before walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek

you finally tell him how you feel and show him all the photos you have of him. he gets rlly flustered

you dont try to hide the surprise you feel when you find out that he has wanted you just as badly the whole time.

author's note: thank you for the first request! this is a little messy, but i hope you enjoyed it. requests are open!

#charlie walker x reader #charlie walker #rory culkin #scream 4 #scream #scre4m #lana del rey

164 notes · View notes

yourbucky084 · 1 year

Text

good girl

a professor matt murdock x reader fanfiction

description: professor murdock is the most attractive professor at your school. with his charm, cockiness, and sweet nature, you couldn't help but fall for him along with the rest of your classmates. what happens when he falls for you, too?

word count: 9.9k

a/n: HI HI SO SORRY LONG TIME NO SEE AGAIN. this took me so long to get up, but it's one of my all time faves. I re-edited a bunch of it, just adding some more details and juicy smut. the ending is a bit abrupt, I apologize! but I hope you all love it. any likes/comments/reblogs are much appreciated, more soon babes. enjoy whores - shannon <3

“So, with that evidence, he would be….” Matt paused, waiting for someone in the class to chime in with the answer. They’d been working on this all week, someone had to know the answer.

But all he heard was silence.

“Anyone? C’mon guys, you know this.”

Matt hounded the class as he paced around the front of the lecture hall, waiting for someone to speak up. He listened for signs of people at least trying to figure out the answer. An uptick in heart rate, the fluttering of notes, anything. But he came up with nothing; just steady heartbeats and constant breaths. Just his luck to get the late lecture slot on Friday night. Half the class didn’t even bother to show up. The half that did was usually either on their phones, or half asleep.

Except for you, of course.

You were chewing on the end of your pen, something you tended to do when you were focused. He had gotten to know your little tics pretty well over the past few weeks. You fiddled with your rings when nervous, bounced your leg when taking notes, and, his personal favorite, you smiled when he said your name.

“Y/N?”

Matt heard the small intake of breath, the drop of a pen. Then, his favorite sound in the world: the slow rise of the muscles in your cheeks, the flush of blood to your face. Smiling and blushing; all for him. He bit his lip, slightly, in an attempt to hide his own smile.

He just couldn’t help it. Not when it came to you.

Matt was no stranger to the effect he had on people, particularly his students. He had been teaching a law class at Columbia for a few years now, and he was used to the way his students talked about him. He knew he was considered attractive, being dubbed the ‘hot professor’ a few years ago. By now he had come to expect the flirty comments and attempts to ‘earn a better grade.’ It was part of his job, at this point. He’d give them a small smile, and tell them he wasn’t interested in the nicest way possible. And he was telling the truth: he never was interested, especially not in a student.

Until it came to you.

The first day of class, you stumbled a few minutes late, muttering apologies under your breath as you found a seat in the front of the class. Matt was immediately enamored by your voice, the way you said his name that first day sent shivers down his spine. The sweet, soft spoken, “Professor Murdock” made him ache, ache for you. Which was something he was not expecting. He hadn’t been this attracted to someone at first ‘sight’ since Elektra, and he hadn’t even spoken to you yet. Yet your scent had already become one of his favorites, sweet and soft, just like you. This kind of attraction was… rare. Matt knew that. Over the coming weeks of class, he had become absolutely enamored by you: with your intellect, your kindness, your temperament, your habits, your… everything.

And he absolutely hated it.

University rules clearly stated students and professors could not engage in any type of relationship that wasn’t strictly professional. Until the student left the professor’s roster officially, anything was extremely off limits. Engaging in a relationship with a student, especially a sexual one, would cost him his job. It would cost him everything, his reputation, his tenure, everything. He’d have to wait until you weren’t in his class to tell you how he felt. And that was torture. There was still a month left in the semester, a month till he could do anything. It was a twisted form of purgatory, designed to make him suffer. He loved having you in class, loved hearing your voice, but absolutely hated that he couldn’t have more.

And God, forgive him, but he wanted more.

As much as he hated to admit it, he often found himself most nights in his office alone, thinking of you. With his hand down his pants, he’d picture you beneath him, writhing in pleasure. Pleasure he would create. He often regretted it right after he finished, the shame creeping in almost immediately. Having these thoughts for someone who was his student was wrong. He knew that, knew that his feelings for you were wrong. Not being able to get off unless he was thinking of you was wrong.

But at the same time, something about it felt oh so right.

The sound of flickering papers brought him back to the present. You were flustered while searching for the answer; he heard the uptick in rhythm of your heartbeat. Whatever you were focused on before had really captured your attention, probably the case you guys were studying. You always got so invested in class, it was one of the things he loved about you.

Little did he know, you hadn’t been paying attention all class. At least not to his words, or his content.

You were focused on him.

Before enrolling in Mr. Murdock’s class, you had heard whispers about the defense lawyer turned professor. All the rumors were about his good looks and charm, called by most by the most attractive faculty member yet. Someone had even told you on a whim that “the blind thing makes only him sexier,” which one, was offensive, and two, made no sense. Everyone seemed to be obsessed with him, and you didn’t understand why. You even heard your advisor make a comment about his charm when you registered for the class, and hell, your friend was taking the class just to stare at him. But you truly didn’t understand the appeal. He was just a professor, right? What could be so special about him?

You soon found that the answer was everything.

Professor Murdock was, by far, the most enchanting man you had ever met. The way he spoke, the cock of his head when he really got into an argument. That cocky, wide grinned smile, dimples constantly on full display. His rolled up sleeves, god, the way those muscles looked through those too tight shirts. His intellect; the way he lectured made your head spin. He brought up ideas you’d never thought of before, he really made you think. And of course, the way he said your name. Sweet and slow off his tongue, no expectation, simply admiration. You hadn’t been this enamored with a guy since… well, ever. And you weren’t alone in that feeling: almost every girl in your class was in love with him. How could they not be? Just one class with him and you were hooked. He didn’t pay any attention to anyone, though, curving every flirtatious comment or any attempt to get him alone.

It was clear to everyone: he wasn’t interested in any of his students.

The way he treated you, however, said otherwise.

Professor Murdock, for whatever reason, seemed to have a soft spot for you. At first, you thought it was all in your head. There was no way the hottest professor on campus had a soft spot for you. But as the weeks went by, the evidence was too much to deny. He always spoke to you in a slightly softer tone than the one he used with his classmates. He was never stern with you, only sweet. He smiled at you more, more than anyone else. He always said your name with a smile, making you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be feeling in the middle of class. He left the sweetest comments on all your papers, sent you the kindest email replies. You lingered after class most days with some stupid question, eager to spend more time with you. And he always obliged, always changed the conversation towards you; your other classes, your weekend plans, anything.

It was almost as if he wanted more time with you, too.

And that thought sent shivers down your spine.

“Y/N?”

He said your name again, calling you back to the present. You looked up from your notes to find him standing in front of you, smiling down at you. He leaned on his cane, head tilted, awaiting your answer.

Fuck, the answer!

“Guilty, professor. Definitely guilty.”

“Good! Good girl.”

He said the last part softly, only you could hear. He didn’t mean to, he swore he really didn’t mean to. It just… it slipped out. Maybe it was the fact your hair was down today, your scent engulfing him when he was this close. Maybe it was the fact you were wearing a skirt, a little fluffy cotton number that left your legs on full display. Images of soft, smooth skin flooded his brain, overpowered any restraint. He didn’t know what it was that made him say it, all he knew was that couldn’t resist. Not when it came to you. Not when he suspected it would turn you on. He was grateful at that moment, though the rest of the class was barely paying any attention.

Something like that could have cost him his job.

But, fuck, did your reaction make it worth that risk.

Goosebumps flooded across your entire body. He felt the blood rush to your cheeks of course, and to somewhere else. Somewhere lower. Your breath caught in your throat, caught off guard by the nickname, which could have been a negative response. But the growing arousal between your thighs told him you liked it. You really liked it. And you wanted more. You were so sensitive, so responsive just to two little words, his two little words. He turned you on, he was the one making you feel this way.

He could only imagine how he’d make you feel with his tongue…

Or his cock-

A small shuffle from somewhere in the room broke his concentration, someone readjusting in their seat. It was meaningless, sure, but it was enough to make him snap back to reality. What was he doing? You were his student, he was your professor. This was wrong, you were young, innocent, whole life ahead of you. He really shouldn’t be flirting like this. He didn’t even know if you’d been in relationships before, for all he knew, you could have been a virgin. So why did that turn him on? Why was he feeling this way? Why were you so encaptivating? Matt heard the familiar shift of your facial muscles, the sure sign your lips were creeping into a smile, and then he remembered. It was you. Everything you did, everything you said, everything you were that made him act this way. You were driving him crazy, it seemed like nearly every thought these days was of you. It was wrong, sure, but what he felt was real.

Screw the rules.

He wanted you.

He got back to his lecture quickly, picking up right where he left off. That was the best way to avoid suspicion, he supposed. And to let you stew in the moment. He heard the signature scribble of a few pens as he described what comes after a verdict, one of those pens being yours. To unsuspecting eyes, you were simply listening to the lecture, taking notes, being a good student.

But Matt knew your heart was still racing.

You got back to your notes quickly, trying to ignore your rapidly beating heart. He didn’t mean it like that, right? He just wanted to commend you for getting the answer right. Right? Surely he didn’t mean to get you all hot and bothered; you could already feel the arousal pooling between your thighs. You tried to follow Mr. Murdock’s lecture, but you couldn’t focus on anything he was saying. Not when he had said that, and walked away like it was nothing. It was too intentional, too hushed, too on the nose for it to be a mistake, you decided. He meant to say it. He wanted to see how you’d react, he wanted to see if you wanted him too.

And, God, did you.

You just had to decide what you’d do next. He’d left the ball in your court, you got to decide where you wanted this to go. Ever the gentleman of him.You could do the obvious, and probably the most sensible: pretend it never happened and leave class as soon as it ended. That way, you’d keep your scholarship and Professor Murdock would keep his job. But, the riskier option would be to linger behind as you usually did, to wait until your classmates left. You’d get to see what Mr. Murdock meant by his little comment, to see if he wanted to say anything more.

Or do anything more.

It was a no brainer in your eyes. You’d be risking everything: your scholarship, your enrollment, his job, his tenure, ect. But you couldn’t take it anymore. How were you supposed to focus on anything when Matt was teasing you in the middle of class? You couldn’t take much more of the constant flirting, the never ending tension. You simply couldn’t stand another day of watching him walk across the classroom, sleeves folded up, chest hair peeking out of his dress shirt. You couldn’t take it anymore; knowing you could have him, but still holding yourself back. You wanted to, needed to see where he’d take it next, if he wanted to risk it too.

And you were almost certain that he did.

“Alright, everyone, I think that’s it for today. Check the syllabus for your homework, and have a great…weekend.”

Before Matt even finished his sentence, the majority of the class was already out of the room, on their way to their friday night plans. There were a few stragglers of course, as there always was. It didn’t slip his mind that one of those stragglers was you. You tended to linger back after class most days, more often than not in the last few weeks. It had started at first as just questions about class, but soon morphed into you two just chatting. You’d talk about your other classes and your career plans, he’d give you advice when needed, but mostly just listened. Every little thing you shared about yourself, about your life, Matt relished. It was domestic, like a date without the formality; he felt like he already knew everything about you. Tonight though, something told him your conversation would be different.

“Y/N, hang back a sec?” He asked, even though he knew you would stay. He just wanted to get rid of that last little bit of doubt in his mind.

He listened intently as your teeth caught on your bottom lip; your attempt at holding back a smile. These are some of the only times he wished he could see, to see your reaction, to see the happiness creep up on your face. He was lucky he had his abilities, otherwise he wouldn’t be so confident that you wanted him too. The blood rushing to your face, smile wide, alleviated all his doubts.

“Sure Professor,” Your joy was clear in your tone, and Matt felt no shame in the smile that crept up his own cheeks. He knew there were a few students left still packing up, but he wasn’t concerned. It was a well known fact you were his favorite student, you were the only one passionate about the class. Your dedication to law and his class only added to his attraction to you, Matt loved getting in debates with you about the day’s material. He was in awe of how invested you were, how much you believed that in the end, law would prevail. It was incredible, your unwavering belief. You wanted to do good, knew you could do good through the courts, just like him.

And god, was that attractive.

“You’re staying again to fuck him, aren’t you,” your friend blurted out, breaking his train of thought. Matt had to hold back a laugh as he sensed your face flushing red at your friend’s remark, your embarrassment clear. Normally, he’d be a little concerned at that comment. But he knew it was your friend, and had heard her encouraging you to fuck him openly at the end of every class.

Maybe tonight, you’d finally take her advice.

“For the last time, we aren’t fucking. I just like to talk to him.”

Matt listened closely to your body as you spoke. Your heart rate was steady, indicating you were telling the truth. You did like talking to him, and you guys weren’t fucking.

Not yet, at least.

“Talk. Mhm, sureeeee. Whatever you say. Text me when you’re done talking,” she said as she threw a wink your way.

She grabbed her bag and left immediately, not giving you a chance to respond. Now that she was gone, you and Matt were the only people left in the classroom. Completely alone. Tension filled the room like a thick fog, goosebumps covered your skin in anticipation of what was to come. Matt hated making you nervous, making you wait. He wanted you to break the silence, to have you decide where you wanted the evening to go. But you weren’t saying anything, Matt could hear you fiddling with your skirt. It was clear you wanted him to take the lead.

So lead he would.

“Y/N, that’s you right?” He knew it was you, of course, but you didn’t know about his abilities. He had to keep up appearances, of course. You wouldn't know that side of him. Not now. Not ever.

“Yes, Professor. Just me.”

God forgive him, but the way you said his title…

It made him feel things he shouldn’t be feeling. It was downright sinful, the way the word rolled off your tongue. He wanted to know what you would sound like begging for him, pleading for your professor to fuck you harder. He was half hard in his pants already at the thought. Hard in his classroom, who was he?

You emphasized those last two words, making it clear to him that you two were alone.

That he could do whatever he wanted.

His mind scrambled for an excuse to get you out of here, to his office. It was smaller, more intimate, and he had a couch there. A couch he hoped you two would get some use out of tonight. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, of course. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way, didn’t want to force you into doing something you’d regret. But the smell of your pheromones in the air, arousal very present, told him you were thinking about the same thing.

You shifted on your feet again, shuffling, reminding him you were waiting for him to make the next move.

“W-would you mind helping me move these books back to my office? It’s just a few doors down, I-I also have a paper of yours to give back. Unless, of course, you have other plans.”

His tone was slightly panicked, nervous. Like he didn’t know if you’d say yes. Professor Murdock was giving you an out, one last chance to stop whatever was going to happen. How sweet. You appreciated the gesture, sure, but your mind was made up. You knew what you wanted: you wanted him.

“I’d love to, Professor,” you said with a smile, relishing the way your words made him smile in response.

“Matt. My name’s Matt.”

Matt. A simple thing, just his name. But it felt like the final step into something larger. You had spent time with him outside of class for weeks now, but he had never told you his name. It was like he had been holding himself back, his true self, and he was finally ready to let go.

To give himself to you.

“Matt,” you said his name once, taking in the way the name tasted on your tongue.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

“Matt. Matthew, I presume? Maybe even Matty? I like it,” you’d adopted a teasing tone, not dissimilar to the one Matt had taken with you earlier, when those two little words slipped out. You figured if he wanted to tease, so would you.

You watched as Matt’s cheeks flushed pink, his jaw twitching ever so slightly. You imagined this was how he felt earlier, seeing you all hot and bothered. A fan of nicknames, you thought.

You’d keep that in mind for later.

“Either’s perfect, coming from you,” he said with a smile. Now it was your turn to blush again. Matt had made nice comments before in class, sure, even the occasional compliment. But now that he was openly flirting?

You didn’t know how to handle it.

“Umm… where are the books?” You decided it was best to just move on, ignore his outright flirting for now. If you flirted back right now, you were pretty sure you’d jump his bones right here in the middle of the classroom. And as much as you’d love to act out your late night fantasies, you knew that the building wasn’t empty.

And with Matt, you didn’t want to have to contain your moans.

“Oh! Yeah, right here,” he said as he felt around his desk, finding the edge and leaning down. He picked up two books, two he could easily carry himself, but it was clear the books were just an excuse to get you in his office. To get you alone. You grabbed your bag and walked down the lecture hall ramp, meeting Matt at his desk. You walked over to him, trailing your hands down his arms, before grabbing the books out of his hands.

“Ready?” You asked, as he grabbed his briefcase and cane from atop his desk. He balanced both items in one hand, stretching out the other to find your arm, wrapping his arm around it. He leaned in close, close enough so you could hear the contented hum he let out once you were flush against his side. His head turned toward you, as he smiled and said:

“Lead the way.”

You two spent the majority of the walk in silence, the only words between you two were Matt’s directions on how to get to his office. It consistently amazed you how Matt knew where you two were after every turn, effortlessly guiding you to his office door. You used the downtime to relish in Matt’s warmth at your side, how close he kept himself to you despite not needing a guide. You’d seen him get around the building plenty of times with just his cane, using the braille on the various door signs to navigate himself. So he was clearly just using the excuse of needing a guide to be close to you.

And that sent shivers down your spine.

“The door on your left. That’s my office. I just gotta get my keys,” he broke his grasp around your forearm, fishing his keys out of the pocket of his trousers. He unlocked the door, grabbing the books out of your arm and placing them on his desk. While he got settled, putting down his briefcase and collapsing his cane, you admired his office. There weren't many decorations, but you didn’t know why you’d thought he’d have any. The only decoration, of sorts, was a small metal sign hung above his desk, “Nelson and Murdock: Attorneys at Law.” Must have been his practice before he started teaching, you thought. Other than the sign, he had a bookshelf in one corner, filled to the brim with various textbooks in braille. Against one wall was a couch, a smaller, love seat type deal, pillow and blanket stacked neatly in the corner. You smirked at the thought of Matt, typically all tough and no bullshit, cuddled up under a little penguin blanket.

“You sleep here?” You said with a chuckle, putting your own bag down on the floor.

“Sometimes. I like the occasional nap or two between classes,” Matt said as he fished something out of his briefcase, closing it with a snap. The room fell into silence for a second, and you didn’t know how to break it. Matt began to walk over, piece of paper in hand. Upon a closer look, you realized it was your paper, and your heart dropped. Did he really call you in here just to talk about your paper? Did you read everything wrong?

But then Matt took a seat on the almost-too-small-for-two-people couch, patting the cushion right next to him, and all your fears disappeared.

“Sit, please, sit.”

He heard your heart begin to race in your chest as you sat down next to him, close enough so that your legs were touching. It took everything in him to not pull you down atop him and bring your lips to his,to have you right now. But he knew he needed to take this slow. He didn’t know if this was going to be a one time thing, whatever it was. Regardless, you were young. He needed to be sure, to be confident you wanted him too. Taking things slow was part of that. But he also had selfish reasons. He wanted to be able to take his time, make sure you were enjoying it, to savor your reactions.

To savor you.

“I-Is that my paper?” You stuttered, Matt could hear the tension in your voice. You were fiddling with your rings as you always did when nervous, though this time, Matt could smell your arousal in the air. You weren’t anxious; you were anticipating what was to come, same as him. It was turning you on, this build up. So he decided to tease you a little more.

“Oh, yeah, here,” he held the paper out, letting his fingers brush yours as he handed it to you.

“Great job as always. You really nailed the final commentary piece, too. I’ll be using it as an example for the rest of the class, if that’s ok.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as he spoke. Matt knew you liked to hear how well you were doing, to be praised in the classroom setting. He had heard the steady uptick in your heart whenever he complimented your phrasing, or commended you for getting the answer right. But, due to his little slip up earlier, he knew that desire to be praised carried over into other parts of your life. More intimate settings. He couldn’t help himself as he continued to speak, eager to dive deeper into this part of you.

“You really like to hear how good you’re doing, huh?”

Matt heard the breath catch in your throat, sensed the way you clenched your thighs for some type of relief. His words had had the exact reaction he’d hoped for, going straight to your core. He knew he had you pegged, but it still felt good to see your reaction. He took another bold move, placing his hand atop your thigh, right where the skirt ended and your skin began to show. You physically shuttered, but didn’t move his hand away. In fact, he felt you move just a little closer, until you were flush against his side. If someone walked in and found you two like this, he’d lose his job. A small part of him kept reminding him you were his student, this was wrong. It wasn’t just taboo, it was illegal. He’d lose his job.

But he just couldn’t pull himself away from you.

“I-I just… I really like to please, Professor.”

Now it was his turn to shiver. He definitely wasn’t expecting that in response. You clearly had caught on to his little game, the teasing banter back and forth. Your tone was light, innocent, and unpresuming. But you knew exactly what you were doing, using his title like that. He adjusted in his seat a bit, trying to hide his growing erection beneath his pants. He had never gotten this turned on, this fast, but you had a hold on him he couldn’t explain. Just your words, the contact of your body heat against his, was enough to get him going.

And he wanted more.

“Matt, sweetheart. You can call me Matt.”

Sweetheart. You liked that. You really liked that. There was a whole new wave of arousal in the air, he could smell it. You must have been practically dripping, the way your scent crowded his senses. You shifted next to him, rubbing against the couch just the slightest bit, seeking some relief. He wouldn’t be able to keep composure, to tease you much longer. His hand had already started sliding up your thigh on instinct, sliding under the fabric of your skirt. He was seeking out your wanting arousal, seeking more of you.

He needed more of you.

“Matt…” You said, his name a breathy sigh on your lips. He leaned in ever so slightly in expectation, waiting for you to do the same. But you didn’t. You stood up abruptly, leaving Matt alone on the couch. What were you doing? He had never been more confused, he hadn’t sensed any indication that you didn’t want this as much as him. If anything, you were more aroused than before.

So what was going on?

“Why’d you call me in here?”

You asked with your hands on your hips, holding yourself steady. He searched your tone for any hint of hesitation, anything saying you didn’t want this. But your words were strong, clear, and concise. You knew what you were asking. You knew what he was going to say in response, and hell, you wanted him too. You were simply looking for confirmation, something to tell you that this was real, that it was happening. That it wasn’t a dream.And Matt could give you that.

After a little more teasing, of course.

He stood up from his spot on the couch, walking over to where you stood in the middle of the room. He took a bold move, placing both hands on your hips, keeping you both in place.c He pulled you flush against him, close enough so that he knew you could feel him rock hard against your stomach. He wanted you to know, to realize how much you turned him on. He leaned in, close, biting back a grin when he felt you lean in too. He paused before you two were touching, wanted to tease you just a little bit more, keep you on the edge.

“Oh I think you know, sweet girl,” Matt whispered, relishing in the feeling of your hips against his. The fabric of your skirt was soft, fluffy, and he was pretty sure pink; all he wanted to do was bury his head in it. Your hands moved from your side to Matt’s neck, one raking itself in his hair. He couldn’t help the small whine that escaped his lips, not when your fingers felt so good. You were so gentle, scratching ever so slightly, the tension disappearing from his shoulders almost entirely. You leaned in close as Matt licked his lips in anticipation, but you stopped just before you two connected.

“Wanna hear you say it, Matty,” you whispered in the darkness. He could feel your breath on your lips, could taste you in the air. You were teasing him back, giving him a taste of his own medicine. You weren’t as innocent as he originally thought, not as fragile as he had surmised. You could handle yourself.

And he loved it.

Without missing a beat, he whispered back.

“How about I show you instead?”

Matt’s lips finally connected with yours. A bit softer than you were expecting, but you weren’t one to complain. Not when you were finally here, kissing the man you’ve been fantasizing about for weeks. You grabbed onto the back of Matt’s neck tighter, trying to ground yourself in the moment. This was real, this wasn’t a dream.

You were kissing Professor Murdock.

Matt’s tongue slipped inside your mouth, eager to deepen the kiss. You obliged, eager to take as much as Matt wanted to give. He kissed you deeply, hands moving up your back to push you flush against him. His lips moved slowly, taking his time in devouring you. And devour he did. His lips against yours made you weak at the knees, your composure slipping. But you only leaned into it, leaned into him, eager for more you knew you wouldn’t get. You suspected that this moment wouldn’t last long, there was only so much you could do in his office without getting caught. You wanted to savor it for as long as the kiss lasted, for however long Matt was willing to risk it.

Almost as if he had read your mind, Matt broke the kiss. He rested his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a breathy sigh, reveling in the moment. You waited for him to speak, to break the contact and address the situation. Instead, Matt’s hands found your hips, gripping tight, and beginning to walk you backwards. Backwards until your back was against the door.

“Matt, what are you doing?” You giggled slightly, taken aback by the movement.

And then his mouth found your neck.

“Matt… not in t-the office…they’ll hear us, you’ll…oh fuck-” Your words faltered as he pressed you against the door. His fingers had somehow already found their way under your skirt, moving your underwear aside immediately as kissed down your neck. His touch was full of passion, fingertips already skimming your folds. Like he was getting ready to fuck you right here, against the door.

You were not expecting this.

You’d always found Matt to be a particularly level headed teacher, one fond of the rules. He turned down every advancement from his students, he never kept the class a minute past the end time. Assignments were organized, the syllabus was a word for word plan of the year. He was… put together, in every sense. You thought he liked his rules, liked to obey. But here you were: his mouth leaving marks on your neck, his fingers teasing your slick.

You were the exception to his rule, you guessed.

You couldn’t help but moan as his thumb brushed your clit, fingers already teasing your entrance. He was still kissing your neck, teeth scraping the soft skin every so often. And god, was it turning you on. What was happening? You certainly weren’t surprised when Matt leaned in for the kiss, but that’s all you thought it was going to be: a kiss. You didn’t think Matt was going to finger you in his office, or fuck you on his desk.

But right now, those seemed to be his only two intentions.

“Oh, they’ll hear us, huh? You think they’ll hear how wet you are for me? How desperate?”

Matt’s tone was rich against your neck, a low growl in your ear. He was teasing you; testing your limits to see how far you’d go right here. The building was mostly empty, as it was nine o’clock at night on a friday. But you were certain there’d be a few stragglers, just like Matt. And as much as you wanted, needed him, you didn’t want to risk him losing the job he loved so much.

Especially not for you.

“We’re gonna get c-cau-auh… ohhhhh.”

Matt cut you off by pushing two fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that one spot on the first try. He kept pumping his fingers in and out, in and out, hitting that spot again and again and again. You couldn’t do anything but throw your head back in pleasure and wrap your hands around Matt’s neck to keep you afloat. Deep down, you knew this was wrong. He was your professor, you were his student, you couldn’t be doing this, especially not in his office.

But if this was so wrong, why did it feel so right?

Your mind was blank, covered in a fog of pleasure at Matt’s hand. His fingers felt divine, a godly gift from above. And hell, with the way he looked, maybe he was a god himself. Gone were your protests from seconds ago, long gone in fact. His hair was messy, glasses low on his face so you could see his eyes. A permanent smirk was etched on his face, telling you he was enjoying this just as much as you were. All you wanted to do, all you could do was moan and beg for more. Your hands clawed at his back, shoulders, desperate for something to ground you.

Because Matt was taking you higher than you’d ever been before.

You’d been fingered before, sure, but nothing could compare to this. Matt wasn’t just doing this for your pleasure, it was clear he was enjoying it too. Soft sighs against your skin, licking his lips every so often as if he was tasting you in the air. He leaned into your body; one hand holding the small of your back while the other worked its magic. His fingers were moving at a furious pace, but something about it felt oh so gentle. Matt was in charge, dominance clear. But he treated you as a treasure, each touch was intentional. No one had ever treated you with such kindness. His lips moved from their place on your neck, leaving small kisses along your jaw, stopping when he reached your ear.

“You’re being so good for me baby, so good. Wanna cum? I wanna make you cum. C’mon, wanna make you cum.”

You couldn’t form words to answer Matt’s question, only nod slightly while your head was thrown back in ecstasy. This was all too much, Matt’s fingers, his lips against your neck, the realization that it was him, your professor, bringing you this pleasure. He kept hitting that spot inside you again and again, curling his fingers just right with every thrust. With the feeling of his fingers, and the fact that it was his fingers, Matt’s fingers, you were going to cum faster than you ever had before.

“Matt, I’m g-gonna, I’m-” You began, trying to warn him of your impending release. Before you could reach your peak, however, he pulled away from you entirely. You whined in protest, upset at the lack of stimulation without any warning. But before you could chastise him, he grabbed your hips, moving you away from the door and guiding you to sit on his desk. He pushed your skirt up to your waist, leaving you and your underwear on full display. You expected him to fumble with his belt, to fuck you right then and there.

But he did something unexpected.

He dropped to his knees.

“Changed my mind, sweetheart. Wanna taste you.”

You watched through hooded eyes as he removed his tie and glasses, allowing you to finally get a good look at those beautiful brown eyes. He always kept his glasses on in class, only taking them off once and a while to rub his eyes. He had told you once after class that people typically found his eyes uncomfortable. The unfocused stare, the lack of blinking turned people away. You had told him that wasn’t true, that you’d love to see his eyes. He had told you maybe someday he’d take his glasses off so you could see them for yourself.

You never would have guessed that moment would be now, with Matt kneeling beneath you like a man at the altar.

Ready to worship.

He tilted his face up towards you and smiled, giving you another glimpse of those sinfully warm eyes. He placed small kisses along your thighs, teasing you yet again. If you had learned anything about Matt Murdock today, it was that he liked to tease. It was becoming clear that was his favorite part of all this, he lived for the chase. The taboo nature of your positions was hot to you, sure, and you were only now realizing it must have been hot to him too. The praise, the nicknames, the desire to get caught. Matt Murdock was dirty, and you were loving it.

Despite your earlier fears, all you wanted now was to cum. You knew it was wrong, knew you could be caught at any moment. But you didn’t care. Matt clearly wanted this, to have you in this way. And you’d do anything he asked. He wanted to take his time, however, and you certainly did not. After your first ruined orgasm, you weren’t too keen on the idea of him drawing this out any longer. You huffed out loud in protest, causing Matt to chuckle against the soft skin of your thigh.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m getting there.”

His tone was soft, but he said everything with a shit eating grin. It was clear he was enjoying drawing this out, leaving one last hickey on your thigh. He licked his lips before moving in between your thighs, licking a broad stripe up your folds. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips when his tongue first made contact with your clit, raking your hands through his hair without thinking. You didn’t intend to tug as hard as you did, but you couldn’t help it. He felt too good, and you needed more, more, more.

And he was more than eager to oblige.

Matt had decided heaven wasn’t possible for him after everything he’d done. He had accepted his fate, faced the fact he’d never reach eternal pleasure.

Yet here he was, in heaven between your thighs.

He had never tasted something so sweet. Your taste was addicting; the more he got, the more he wanted. He couldn’t hold back his own moans, you were bringing him pleasure he’d never felt before. The way you used your hands to bring his face closer to you, grinding down on him, turned him on more than he’d care to admit. He was already close, just by tasting you. He loved the way you were taking what you wanted from him, and he was more than willing to give whatever you needed.

With another groan from his own mouth, he shifted up a little bit on his knees, just high enough so that his nose rubbed against your clit. You practically yelped at the contact, raking your hands in his hair even harder, hips grinding down on him. Matt tried to ignore his own arousal, his cock was painfully hard straining against the fabric of his pants. He wanted, needed to make you cum.

Before he came in his pants like a teenager.

“C’mon, sweetheart, need you to cum. Need you to cum, please.”

He mumbled between your folds, the vibration of his voice adding another level of pleasure. He could tell his words did something to you, your fingers gripping his hair even harder. He could feel your walls begin to contract, could hear the uptick in your heartbeat as you approached your end. You were close, almost over that wall.

And Matt was gonna give you one final push.

He took your clit between his lips and sucked, intent on bringing you to your end. You chanted his name, his real name, not his title. This was real, not some fantasy. Like a silent, soft prayer, “Matt, Matt, Matt,” left your lips over and over again. Finally, with another swirl of his tongue, your muscles contracted, and a new wave of your arousal coated his tongue. You had a death grip on his hair, pushing his face between your thighs and riding out your high. He could sense the relief in your body as your heart rate slowed and your thighs relaxed. He smiled to himself, still between your thighs. He listened as you shifted yourself up on your elbows, still panting slightly. He moved out from his place between your thighs, trying his best to meet your eyes. Your hands found his shoulders, then his face, as you spoke.

“Get the fuck up here and kiss me.”

You both chuckled at your words, but Matt obeyed, standing up and finding your lips once again. He heard you groan into the kiss, overwhelmed at his taste on your tongue. If it was up to him, he’d stay like this all day, his hands on your hips, your lips against his. This was what he had been waiting for all semester, all he had ever wanted.

To be with you.

Your hands shifted down to his belt, reminding him of his more pressing problem. He’d been so focused on your pleasure, so invested in you, he hadn’t realized how much he’d been hurting. He was painfully hard, the fabric of his boxers all too rough against his skin. But it seemed like you were intent on alleviating that. You fiddled with his belt, struggling, but he wasn’t keen on helping you just yet.

He wanted to feel you.

He moved his hands up to find the bottom of your shirt, teasing the soft skin of your stomach underneath. You huffed impatiently, lips pursed together in what he imagined was the cutest little pout. You broke the kiss, quickly removing your t-shirt and flinging it across the room.You went right back to his mouth wordlessly, and your attempt to remove his belt. He traced his fingers up your lower back, trying to memorize every little dip and curve he could find. He finally found the fabric of your bra, running his fingers under the elastic as he broke the kiss.

“Can I-” He began, intent on asking consent, but you cut him off.

“For God sakes, Matthew, pleaseee,” You whined, finally undoing his belt. He twisted the hooks of your bra, undoing them all at once, the fabric falling along your shoulders. You removed your hand from the button of his pants, shrugging the soft fabric off your chest, before returning to your original position. He slowly, carefully, traced his fingers from your back to your upper ribs, finally coming into contact with your breasts. Before he could explore them, savor them as you deserved, your hand began to palm his cock through the fabric.

“S-shit,” Matt exclaimed, and you bit your lip at his reaction, unable to hide your satisfaction at finally having him in your clutches. This whole night, you’d been at his mercy, under his spell.

But now it was his turn.

You undid the last button on his pants, tugging them down past his ass, as they fell to the floor. You found the waistband of his briefs, tugging those down too, letting his cock spring from its confines. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips at his size; he was huge. You’d expected big, sure. He carried himself with too much confidence to say otherwise. But this? You never would have thought. He was long, sure, probably around eight inches. But god, he was thick. You could barely wrap your hand around his as you moved to pump him, using the precum at his tip as lubricant. One flick of your wrist had him moaning, bucking up into your hand. You looked up to find his eyes closed, head thrown back in pleasure, mouth agape in ecstasy. He was beautiful like this: vulnerable, relaxed, finally letting go. You didn’t know what this was with Matt, whether it was a one time thing or something more. All you knew is you wanted to keep bringing him pleasure for as long as you got the chance.

Abruptly, he grabbed your wrist, pausing your movements. You pouted, frustrated at the fact he cut you off. You were intent on sucking him off, bringing him the same pleasure he brought you. But he clearly had other plans. He brought your hand up to his lips, giving it a small peck before dropping it entirely.

“Wanna fuck you now. Turn over.”

His tone was firm, low. Sure. Not unlike the tone he used in the classroom, when giving the class directions, orders on what to do next. He expected to be listened to in the bedroom, the same way he was listened to in the classroom. He expected to be in charge.

And god, did that turn you on.

You obliged, standing up to remove your skirt before leaning over on his desk. The scene was utterly pornographic, something out of your deepest, darkest fantasies come to life. You were about to fuck your professor, over his desk. You couldn’t believe it. Matt started unbuttoning the buttons on his dress shirt, slowly, muttering praises and promises as he went.

“Thought about this for weeks, you know. You, spread out over my desk. So fucking beautiful, so fucking good for me. You gonna be good for me now, huh? Let me make you cum on my cock?”

Matt was definitely dirtier than you were expecting, and you were loving it. He was a rule follower in the classroom to the utmost extent, but here was where his wild side was let loose. You didn’t expect him to be so vocal in the bedroom, so filthy, but it was more than welcome. You nodded in response to his question, to his praises, turning your head back to face him as you spoke.

“Please, Matty. Please fuck me.”

He growled in response, throwing his shirt somewhere on the floor. He grabbed your hips from behind, pressing his cock against the curve of your ass. The contact caused you to arch back up into him, silently begging for more.

And you knew Matt was gonna give you more.

He guided his erection to your folds, rubbing up and down a few times, coating himself in your slick. After a minute, he lined himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip in slowly. You yelped at the sudden intrusion, taken aback by the stretch despite Matt’s fingers earlier. He placed a kind hand on your lower back, rubbing his thumb across his skin. Comforting you to the utmost extent, encouraging you.

“I got you, sweetheart. I got you,” he said as he slowly pushed himself in, taking his time as he stretched you out. It had been a while since you’d had sex, and with Matt’s size, it was more than a little stretch. After a minute or so, he bottomed out entirely, causing you both to groan. He pulled back again slowly, causing you to groan loudly, not out of pain, but of pleasure. He brushed up against your g-spot as he thrusted out, already bringing you immense satisfaction on the first move. You cried out, loud and sudden, taken aback by the pleasure. He began to pull out all the way again, afraid he’d hurt you. But you reached your hands back, grasping for him.

For more.

“More, god, Matt please-” you began, but he cut you off with another thrust. He continuously hit that spot inside you with each thrust, grabbing your hips to help ensure he was getting the angle right. You grabbed the edge of his desk for support, desperate for some support as he began to thrust harder, now finally seeking out his own pleasure.

Finally taking you how he wanted.

“Fuck, Matt, sooo good,” You moaned, words slurring, unable to hold back your sounds of pleasure. Your moans were barely discernible from your words, but you had to let Matt know how good he was making you feel. How good he felt. You’d never had sex this good, fumblings in the backseat or lackluster frat men could never compare. Matt filling you, splitting you was overwhelming. You’d reach your peak soon.

Your words went straight to Matt’s cock, twitching inside of you. Fuck, you were hot. He’d know that before, of course. But having you writhing underneath him, pushing your hips back with each thrust to fill you even more… It may have been the most attractive thing Matt had ever experienced. You were tight, way tighter than he had expected. Between that, and the filthy fact of you being his student strewn out naked across his desk, he wasn’t going to last long.

He needed to make what he had left count.

“Turn over,” He ordered, slipping himself out and stepping back entirely. He listened as your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, but you listened anyway, laying back down on the desk. He grabbed your legs, placing them on his shoulders as he again found your entrance, and pushed inside. He didn’t give you any lead up, any grace period as he resumed his rapid pace, thrusting in and out of you. You lifted your hips up in pleasure as his thumb found your clit, rubbing it rapidly, with the intent of bringing you to orgasm as soon as possible. He leaned over, pressing a kiss against your collarbone, then your neck, as he finally reached your ear.

“You gotta cum for me, sweetheart. C’mon, baby, soak my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me. I know you can do it. Please, wanna feel you, need to feel you.”

He whispered softly against your neck, voice faltering as he continued to work your clit. As soon as he spoke, he heard the signature uptick in your heart rate, the tightening of your muscles around his cock. You tightened tenfold when you were about to cum; he couldn’t last much longer.

Your hands wrapped around his neck as you came to your end, a desperate attempt to ground yourself as you went up. You moaned his name as you came, a high pitched “Matty” that claimed your orgasm as his. Something snapped within him as you came, something dark. He’d been holding himself back, afraid he’d hurt you, scare you away. He wanted to be sweet with you, to take care of you as you deserved. But his name on your lips as you came was too much to bear.

He needed to let the devil out.

As you began coming down from your orgasm haze, you heard Matt growl. His hand left your clit to immediately find your throat, wrapping his hands around the vulnerable skin. Your eyes widened, taken aback at the sudden gesture. He had been dominant before, sure, but never rough or too kinky. Choking? This was a new level. Despite the surprise, you weren’t scared. You should have been, though. The sight of Matt, teeth bared, hand around your neck, eyes dark as he thrusted, should have been terrifying.

But it wasn’t.

It was hot.

“Y-you’re fucking mine,” Matt mumbled as his thursts increased, chasing his own end at a rapid pace. You couldn’t do anything but lay there and take it, and you liked that. Matt was in control, Matt was taking control. If you hadn’t just come, you were sure those words would have made you reach your end on the spot.

“S-say it. Say you’re m-mine,” He ordered, his hand squeezing tighter around your throat.

“I’m yours, Matt. I’m yours.”

You whispered in the darkness, and that’s what did it. Hearing you claim yourself as his, after he’d wanted you for so long, was too much. He removed his hand from your throat, grabbing your hips rougher than he intended. But he couldn’t control himself when it came to you, the Devil was in charge. He thrusted himself deep inside as he came, coating your walls with his release.Your words brought him over the edge, the fact that you were telling the truth when you said it was too much to bear. He thrusted one more time, before forgoing his grip, and collapsing on top of you.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around him, one of your hands raking your way into his hair, as he came down from his own high. Without warning, Matt stood up fully, scoping you up from where you two laid and bringing you both to the couch. You sat on his lap as he pressed you against his chest, one of his hands finding its way to the top of your head. He seemed panicked, an expression of fear etched across his face as he spoke.

“ I’m so sorry, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean,I don’t… I’m so sorry,” He stuttered out, raking his way through your hair as he held you close. His heart was beating rapidly, eyes flickering back and forth like he was scanning the room. You were confused by his apology and panic; couldn’t he tell that that was the best sex of your life?

“Why are you sorry?”

You whispered back, wrapping your hands around his neck to bring you closer to him. He shook his head in response, flinching slightly at the contact. He seemed scared to touch you, his hand around your shoulders all too soft. He’d gone a bit rough, sure, but nothing insane. But it was almost like you could hear his mind racing, his silence said enough. You finally figured it out: he was scared he hurt you. Matt Murdock, the man with the heart of gold, was terrified he’d been too much. He’d been vulnerable with you, using you as he wanted to reach his end. But he thought he’d been too much; he’d probably been told that before. You had to calm his fears, let him know it was the best you’d ever had. He needed reassurance, just like you always did in class.

And you’d be more than happy to oblige.

“Matthew,” you sighed, raking your fingers into the hair on the back of his neck. He softened slightly, but was still extremely tense to your touch. You kissed up his neck slowly, leaving a trail of red marks as you went. He still stayed silent, but relaxed just a bit more. Perfect.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had. Really. I loved every second, ok? I would have told you if something wasn’t right, I promise. ” You pressed a small kiss to his temple, an added layer of reassurance. He sighed, deeply, pressing you tighter into his chest.

“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you? I didn’t mean to, I just snapped, and-”

“I liked it, Matt. All of it. I like you. A lot, actually.”

You didn’t mean for that last part to slip out, to confess your deep feelings so soon. But Matt smiled in response, using his arms to squeeze you against him again. He kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your cheek, causing you to giggle. He kissed his way down all the way to your lips, giving you a quick peck before responding.

“I like you too. I’ve liked you for a while, actually. If you want, if you want, I’d like to take you out on a real date. Show you your worth more than a quick fuck. You’re… you’re incredible sweetheart. Let me show you how much.”

Your lips were on his in a heartbeat, trying to put all your happiness into one kiss. Your professor liked you. He liked you. He wanted to date you.

When did you fall asleep and wake up in a dream?

You broke the kiss, smiling against his lips as he smiled against yours. You didn’t break contact as you spoke, your forehead still against his in pure bliss.

“I’d love nothing more.”

FIN

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!): @i-said-it-n-i-meant-itt-it @crazyxshit @peakyrogers @laura-palmer-del-rey @pettypartypooper @ferxaniti @m0chaminx @srquinnhexa @fairyofspring @mnxxlove @kayxvii @hisdoll107 @hellmoonsin @mattmurdock82 @zabblegrabble @leto-duke @baconmuffins1216 @laprvphette @flawssy227 @the-dragonsqueen @galaxysgal @leossmoonn @shakespeareanwannabe @dontsaypetertingle @iflostreturntobudcooper @aliceblisss @phantomkindalikejaiden @phoebe-danvers @sfr99 @twentyfirstcenturyfox @justlenastuff @btsforlif @optic-neenee @foxe @floof-butt @general-latino @tobyr68 @tatespillows @aimerriarkle @tooflef @trapped-in-this-love @wasicskosgirl @tiredpurpleee @sadgirlhours068 @imgonnaragnorockurshit @delmoyy @exhaustedfangirl @mylittlepimp @chvoswxtch @sapphicsong

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x you #professor matt murdock #professor matt murdock x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil fanfiction

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spinningwebsandtales · 5 months

Text

Imagine Steven Grant Decorating The Christmas Tree With Your Daughter

Steven Grant X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: None it's all Christmas fluff

Word Count: 718

Requested by @the-marshals-wife

(A/N:) I still owe my friend some requests for all the amazing work she does for me. And while she didn't request this character I know he is one of her faves and I came up with the idea at work. She seemed more than happy with the results from my brain. It also helps that it's the season! So Merry Christmas everyone and enjoy this fluffy goodness! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The Christmas season had finally come and it was your favorite time of the year. The house always seemed cozy with the glittering lights and heater going. It made leaving into the nippy mornings even harder than usual. But your favorite part was the giggles of your little girl and the boisterous singing of your husband who thoroughly loved Christmas carols. You were busy decorating the fireplace with garland and stockings while Steven and your daughter took care of the tree. They had just finish shaping the artificial branches that had been smooshed together from it's time in storage and started untangling the lights. You hummed gently to yourself while taking quick glimpses of your two loves. Steven had just finished singing the exhausting carol of 12 Days of Christmas, his daughter clapping and singing while her dad ran out of breath, due to him holding the last note for an absurd amount of time. Steven quickly recovered and went straight into Deck the Halls.

You shook your head, focusing back on your single task. Before too long Steven got tired of not having the music playing and forgetting certain lyrics of the carols his little girl was requesting, so he switched on the radio, tuning it the local station who had begun playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving. You joined in and now there was an impromptu trio filling the house with song. Steven hummed along to Silent Night while he wrapped the tree in sparkling Christmas lights. Around and around he went, it was making you dizzy just watching him. Of course he had to act all dramatic and cause little squeals coming from their side of the living room. Steven was laughing until he got too dizzy from his rocking around the Christmas tree and fell down almost taking the whole tree with him. This time you laughed loudly and swooped in to save your husband.

"Only you would get dizzy putting lights on the tree," you teased while helping him to the couch.

Clamoring up on her father's lap, you patted your daughter's head while Steven kissed her rosy cheek. While Steven recovered you finished up the fireplace mantel and finished up the lights on the tree. By then Steven was ready to get back into the game. Walking hand in hand towards you it was time for ornaments. You remembered the years fondly of your daughter being so small that majority of the ornaments wound up on one side of the tree at the bottom. The radio had become background noise for a little bit while you and Steven walked down memory lane. You remember your first Christmas fondly with your then new husband and then you remembered that first Christmas with your baby girl. Now here she was the spitting image of her father and your fierce attitude.

Steven jolted, cocking his head to the radio he grinned broadly down at his little girl. She started jumping up and down excitedly as her dad ran to the radio and turned up the song playing. You laughed, shaking your head as their favorite Christmas song of all time begun to play.

I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas flooding the house as both Steven and his mini me sung at the top of their lungs. Their silliness was contagious as you joined them in their singing and even the little dance they choregraphed on the fly. Though a short song all three of you wound up in a breathless pile on the floor. Like Steven before, you were a little dizzy from all the joyous spinning.

"I vote for no spinning next time," you panted.

"I second that vote," Steven agreed.

"Extra spinning," your little girl crowed.

It took a little long for you and Steven to recover as you both were content laying on the soft carpet until the room quit spinning. Steven slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze he shuffled closer to you. Your daughter had taken to spinning more around and around before she went back to placing ornaments on the tree. Steven kissed our cheek before he nuzzled into your hair.

"I love you," he mumbled.

You gave him a quick kiss on his chin, relishing in the scratch of his facial hair, "I love you too."

#Steven Grant X Reader #Steven Grant / Reader #Moon Knight #Steven Grant #Moon Knight Imagine #Steven Grant Imagine #Imagine #Marvel #Not My Gif #My Writing

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bi-disaster-yn · 2 years

Text

Bell Pepper

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader doesn’t want to have kids but doesn’t want Bucky to miss out on anything after having years of his life taken from him by Hydra.

A/N: okay so listen, as someone who reads a lot of Bucky fics on this site I know a lot of you wanna snap up Sergeant Barnes as your baby daddy (and honestly, fair enough). But as someone who has never wanted kids; I needed to create a comfort fic with my fave man ever. To all my Bucky girlies who understand: this one is for you!<3

The knife sliced open the bell pepper to reveal the queasy sight and your stomach churned. Nestled into the core with the seeds, was a miniature pepper. It almost took over the entire internal space in the larger pepper, invading it and feeding off its source.

You felt sick.

You picked it up to show Bucky who was chopping onions and trying to blink away the inevitable stinging tears that were a consequence of the task.

“How disgusting is that? Makes me feel sick when my peppers are pregnant.” You observed, horrified by the sight yet unable to take your eyes off it.

Placing it back down, you used your knife to remove the miniature pepper from the flesh of the larger one and proceeded to throw it in the trash. The procedure was quick and painless. The pepper was no longer defiled.

“I don’t know, Doll. I think you’re the sick one hacking up a pregnant pepper like that.” Bucky joked, chuckling at himself and then returned his focus to the onion when he realised you weren’t laughing with him.

“I’m doing her a favour.” You mumbled, trying not to let Bucky hear, but he did. He just chose not to press you on it.

You hadn’t told Bucky yet that you didn’t want kids. There was no tragic backstory as to why you didn’t want them. There were no fears or worries surrounding your ability to parent. There was not an explanation. You just didn’t want children and that was that.

Only, it was becoming a challenge to tell your boyfriend that. For the duration of your relationship, Bucky had been recovering from his time at Hydra. He was having nightmares, panic attacks, dissociative episodes; you name it. It was safe to say that was not the environment to introduce a child. Hence, it put a natural delay on having that conversation which you usually would get out of the way on a first date.

However, Bucky’s mental state was getting a lot better as he had started making amends by way of apologies to victims’ families. His friendship with Sam had strengthened which you were grateful for. Your own relationship was enhanced by his recovery as he was able to express himself more and build on his communication. It made you fall completely in love with him as you were able to see him for who he truly was.

You loved your Bucky more than anyone else in the world. Together, you lived in a perfect little bubble that you wanted to last forever: you and Bucky in your little apartment together.

Although, Bucky’s recovery meant that the conversation on kids was now looming over you as a constant anxiety-driving reminder that your days with your super soldier could be numbered. You were painfully aware that Bucky had been robbed of over 70 years of his life. Decades of servitude and being deprived of the ability to make choices for himself meant that you wanted him live as full a life as possible. Bucky was now excited about things again and eager to move on, finding his way in this modern world and doing everything he missed out on. This was something you had desperately wanted for him too. Bucky truly deserved everything life had to offer and to be incandescently happy.

If that meant he wanted kids, he was going to have to do it without you.

As in love with Bucky as you were, this just was not something you could do for him. It was part of your fundamental belief system, locked closely in your heart and kept safe for all time. The thought of being pregnant made you feel nauseous and violated. The idea of putting your life on hold to tend to someone else’s made you frustrated and angry. The objection to having kids started from conception all the way through to raising the child. There was not one part of the process you were willing to try.

You loved Bucky, but you couldn’t do this for him.

You glanced at the salad Bucky had in his hands, containing the pieces of the offending bell pepper. It made you grimace every time you thought about it and even more so when you thought about telling Bucky how you felt.

Sam’s nephews rushed over to greet their uncle’s cool friend with the metal arm. Bucky made roaring noises at them and darted around to avoid them catching him, holding the salad above his head to prevent any accidents. Your heart warmed at your boyfriend’s playful demeanour and subsequently sank at the realisation that he enjoyed playing with the kids.

You took the salad from him so he could mess around with the boys and sat it down in the midst of all the food that had been brought to the cookout. Sam made his way over and gave you a tight hug to thank you both for coming. He looked over at Bucky and let out a chuckle.

When you turned round, your boyfriend was standing talking to Sarah and some other women with his vibranium arm stretched out. Sam’s nephews dangled from the arm while Bucky spoke casually.

Your heart stopped.

The pounding in your ears was unbearable as a high pitched frequency permeated its way between them. The inside of your mouth went dry and when you tried to swallow your throat had closed up providing unavoidable pain.

It was selfish. Bucky clearly trusted his own mind enough that he would let vulnerable children play with that arm like it was a toy. In truth, you were so incredibly proud of him for it. But you also caught a glimpse of what he’d be like as a father and suddenly you’d never felt further away from him.

The women gawked at him. Who could blame them? The handsome super soldier who had helped save the world and put his dark past behind him. Bucky was a dream.

“Are you single? My daughter would love you!” One said.

“You’re so good with kids, you’ll make such a good dad one day.” Another chimed in.

“Look at you, so strong yet so gentle with Sarah’s boys.”

Although, you had not moved, the words from these women put a further distance between you and Bucky. It felt like he was being pulled away from you as they painted a picture of a life that he could lead without you.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m actually madly in love with my girlfriend.” He smiled softly and pointed over at you.

All eyes were on you now and you were frozen to your spot. Whilst you usually loved it when Bucky showed you off, it was like being thrown in a lions den. You could feel the inevitable questions coming as though you were standing in front of hundreds of microphones with nothing to say and had a blinding light shining in your eye.

“So when can we expect children from you two?” Sarah asked, smiling between you both. That was it. The final straw. There was a scream lurking in your throat you were dying to let out. You wanted to protest, defend yourself, prove a point but this wasn’t the time or the place.

“We haven’t talked about it.” You stated, making it clear that you were not to be pressed further on this. You were unable to look any of them in the eye - especially Bucky.

The pain on Bucky’s face as you brushed off the question shattered your already heavy heart. That was it: you’d hit that last nail in the coffin. The love of your life stood before you, clearly wounded by you and you didn’t know what to do. None of this could be made better.

“Excuse me.” You said, having created an awkward tension with your lack of enthusiasm for Bucky’s children. You turned on your heel and headed towards the car, trying your best to hold back tears. The inevitable was coming. You were going to have to say goodbye and you’d never love like this again.

All eyes went back to Bucky who stood there, looking defeated. Slowly he let the boys down and they scurried off somewhere else to go and play. He grimaced at the pitying looks all the women now gave him, hating the fact that people saw him as a victim.

“I-I’m gonna go check on her.” He announced after a few seconds and started to walk after you. His limbs became stiff and he had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other to try and get to you.

Bucky had known something was wrong with his girl. He’d known for weeks as you’d inadvertently kept him at a distance. You’d go quiet and mumble to yourself. You’d lie awake at night when you thought he was sleeping. He’d lie facing the wall and listen to the blinking of your eyelids, desperate to be able to peer inside your mind.

You brushing off the question about kids hurt Bucky. Not because he was feeling particularly broody but he thought it meant you’d gotten bored of him. Finally, he’d pushed you to the point where you’d had enough of him. Whilst, his communication had improved massively, this was something he was petrified to raise with you. Bucky wanted to keep his girl for a little while longer before she finally had to leave.

“Can we please talk, Doll?” He asked from behind you and you could hear his voice cracking. It sent sharp shooting pains through your chest.

“Later, Bucky. Go back and enjoy the cookout, we can talk about it afterwards.” You responded, still desperately trying not to look at him.

“I can’t enjoy it if you’re not there.” He sounded crushed and you could tell he’d stood still.

It made you pause too. You turned round to reveal your tear stained puffy cheeks and looked at the distraught man in front of you. Whilst it was for his own good, it still was going to be the hardest thing you ever had to do. You opened your mouth to explain the situation and how he would need to go his own way to fulfil his dreams of becoming a father. Bucky got there first before you could say anything.

“I know you’ve had enough of me and you don’t see a future with me anymore. That’s fine, Doll. Honestly, I get it. But I just want you to know I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone as much as I love you.”

You blinked at him a few times in disbelief, the tears stopped and you straightened your back. Bucky doubting your love for him stunned you into a near speechless state and was a brutal sting.

“What?”

“Isn’t that why you’re upset? Someone mentioned us having kids and you looked as though you’d seen a ghost. Thought the idea of being shackled to me for the rest of your life was too much for you.” He looked at you sheepishly, playing with his hands anxiously as he spoke.

“No!” You retaliated. “No, Bucky, sweetheart, that’s not it at all.”

He narrowed his eyebrows at you. “Then, what is it?”

You inhaled deeply, ready to say your piece. Bucky’s eyes met your own and they pleaded with you to be honest.

“I don’t want kids, Buck! I never have and I never will. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long but I was terrified you’d leave me. But I can’t hold on to you forever, you’ve had too much time taken away from you, I’m not going to steal anymore! Go and find a girl that wants to have kids and be with her. This is the one thing that I just cannot do for you and I’m sorry!” You were frenzied and sobbing by the end of your speech. Fresh warm tears pooled in your eyes and fell over the sensitive skin of your cheeks that the others had dried in on.

Bucky listened to you intently as you spoke feeling a wave of relief wash over him that you objected to children and not him. He didn’t realise the tension he’d been holding his body in until he relaxed at your explanation. A smile stretched across his face as he lunged towards you and pulled you into a bone crushing hug.

“I wouldn’t have made a good dad anyway.” He said, kissing the side of your head repeatedly. His girl still loved him, nothing else mattered.

You pulled back from the hug, thinking he was just being self-deprecating and cupped his face in your hand, staring into his eyes.

“No you wouldn’t. You’d be an excellent father. I saw you with those kids. I won’t have you stay with me just because you think you’re not good enough to be a dad.” You asserted. It was painful but it had to be done.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t wanna do something if it’s not with you.” Bucky replied, placing his hands over yours on his cheek.

“Do you mean that?” You choked. It was cynical, but you felt like this was going to be too good to be true.

“Of course I do,” he smiled and kissed you gently on the nose. “Look, if I had made it back to Brooklyn after the war I would probably would have married some girl and had kids with her because that’s just what you did. But now… we live in this world where we get to choose who we are and who we want to be. And I want to be the guy with the girlfriend who feels sick when she sees a pregnant bell pepper. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. If that’s just the two of us then even better because it means I’ll have you all to myself.”

The floodgates opened and you were relentlessly sobbing at his words, covering your eyes with your arm. At some point you wailed out an “I love you so much” at him, although that would have been difficult to decipher between all your blubbering. Bucky heard it though, he always did.

He smirked at you and pulled you back into the tight embrace with a “c’mere”, shushing you as your tears pooled on to his chest. You clung on to him for dear life as if what he’d just said had been a dream and you were going to wake up at any minute.

“Don’t go keeping things from me like that okay?Considering how much you loved it when I communicated properly, I expected better.” He chuckled into your hair, kissing the side of your head and earning a little giggle from you. “Just me and you, Doll.”

“Just me and you, Buck.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst #marvel fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes x fem!reader #boyfriend!bucky #Bucky fic #james bucky barnes #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes one shot #Bucky Barnes imagine

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gatorbites-imagines · 6 months

Text

Kinktober day 13

Donquixote “Corazon” Rosinante + Bondage/Shibari

Is it clear from the one piece characters on my kinktober list who my faves are? Yeah, I have a problem.

No outright naughty action in this, I just think Rosinante needs to be allowed to relax sometimes under someone’s care, ya know?

Reader is a marine, cuz idk.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Rosinante gave a soft exhale as his shoulders complained from his position, one he had laid in for a while. The floor was starting to get uncomfortable under his body as he had laid there for a long time. His arms were tied behind his back and attached to his feet in a hogtie, as crimson ropes were splayed across his body in different patterns in what could almost be art.

His face had been wiped clean of his makeup the moment he had stepped into your office, his clothes tucked off his body until he was down to his underwear, undershirt, and socks. You had pulled off your tie and wound it around his head, catching the fabric between his lips and teeth in a gag. It was more the thing it meant than keeping him quiet, your office had been soundproofed years ago, being gagged just always had Rosinante feeling lighter in a way.

He had lost track of time a long time ago, he could have laid there for ten minutes or two hours, the only thing letting him know that time had passed was the ache in his limbs and the drool that was pooling down his chin and into a puddle on the shiny floors. Your rank in the marines allowed you your own office, and not a week had passed before you and Rosinante had christened the place.

Now it had become somewhere for your lover to come to you when he needed to be taken out of his own head for a while, you could do it back in your rooms, but your rank also meant you had much more work than the average person. This resulted in the two of you making your office into a safespace for Rosinante to relax and let his stress go as you tied him up, letting him lay there as you worked.

Rosinante had shut his eyes after a while, he wasn’t asleep, but it felt something like it as his stress seemed to melt out of his body little by little, and his mind seemed to enter a quieter headspace. He didn’t even notice as you got out of your seat, having finished the last of your paperwork, and wandered over to where he was laid out like an art piece.

His eyes fluttered open as you caressed your hand down his back, letting it drag up into his head and brushing it out of his eyes. The two of you had done this so many times you didn’t need words, he knew you were asking if he was ready to wrap it up as you were done with work. You could continue it back in your room, as it was larger than his own and more private, or you could wrap it up completely for the evening.

The tie was the first thing you removed, tucking it out from between his teeth and rolling the drool covered fabric up into a ball, shoving it into the pocket of your marine coat. Then you got to work untying the rest of his body, starting by carefully letting his arms and legs down, making sure to rub his wrists and ankles to make sure they were fine.

Rosinante sighed softly as you started unwrapping the rest of the rope around his torso, taking your sweet time to let him enjoy the slow builddown of it, letting him slowly put himself back together piece by piece. It was an intimate moment, something that probably didn’t make sense to many others, but this entire situation was built on a lot of love and trust, and it had taken a long time to get to this point where Rosinante could give himself over to you and not worry.

You made sure to massage and rub the areas the ropes had dug into his skin, muttering soft praise as you pressed a soft kiss against his lips. It took some time before Rosinante was ready to get dressed, which was where you got to your feet and grabbed the clothes that had been taken off and folded earlier. After your lover was dressed, you pressed a kiss to his cheek before quirking a brow at him as if to ask if he was ready.

Rosinante gave a soft nod, neither of you even needing to say a word as you stepped out of your office. You lock the door after you as is procedure, and after that the two of you take the less used hallways to reach your personal bedroom. It is up to Rosinante if he wants to be tied up again when the two of you get to your room, or if he just wants to cuddle and go to sleep, you wouldn’t mind either. You would do anything for him, just as he would for you.

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deejadabbles · 6 months

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Hiiii friend!! wanted to request a spooky prompt number 6 and 😈 with Fives please and thank you!!

Hello darling!! Thank you for sending this in, I was very inspired the moment I read it so I hope you enjoy this 🤩 This one also got a little ~heated~ since Fives had officially become one of my faves 😏

How to Summon A Demon Boyfriend (Demon!Fives x GN Reader)

Summary: There's no such thing as demons, they're just something to use for cheesy cautionary tales...Right? Rating: M (Minors DNI) Word Count: 1,813 Warnings: Crappy 'friends', small injury and mentions of blood, reader gets a big scare but it's fine in the end I promise, heavily suggestive content. Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

You really needed to learn to say no sometimes.

Tonight was supposed to be the perfect chance to curl up on the couch in your favorite PJs and coziest blanket. Instead, you were freezing your ass off in a dark playground, pretending to summon a demon like some bored teenager.

Cam and you weren’t even that close, just work buddies, but that little voice inside your head had been yelling too loud: 'he was really sweet and invited you! You have to go! It would be rude not to!' Now you were annoyed with every moment of this silly little seance.

“Alright, I think that should do it!” said the cute blonde girl, who you didn’t know before tonight. You didn’t know any of Cam’s friends, yet here you were with them. “I think it’s a good little summoning circle, if I do say so myself!” She beamed down at the chalk drawing she’d sketched onto the area usually reserved for hopscotch.

Then another one of Cam’s friends, a young man with dark hair fit for a punk band, voiced your own thoughts, “This is stupid, what makes you think we can summon a demon from some random book you found in a second hand store?”

“Dude, I’m telling you, if anything’s the real deal, it’s this!” Cam insisted, cautiously taking the book from the blonde and flipping a page, “I mean, just look at this!” He tilted it towards you and the punk guy, “The ancient looking paper, the notes and stains- plus, the store owner said she got it from her friend when he died and that his family was into all kinds of strange occult shit.”

You would admit, it was a very convincing tome, even if the demon summoning was all fiction, the owner had put lots of work into its design. You reached out to touch the edge of the page, to see if it really did feel ancient, but just as you did Cam moved as well and a sharp pain seared through your finger tip.

With a loud hiss and a curse you pulled your hand back, clutching it close to your chest.

“Shit- sorry!” Cam said, “Paper cut?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, taking a tentative peak at the now throbbing finger. It was leaking red, the skin around it looking angry, and you noticed part of the offending page was now stained with your blood too. Well, at least it added to the book’s authentic aesthetic.

“Wow, didn’t know we’d be making blood sacrifices tonight,” the blonde said with a laugh.

“Happy to contribute,” was your sarcastic reply as you tried to soothe the throbbing. “Next time I-”

“Uh, guys!” Cam’s eyes were wide as he looked down at the book, “The words are glowing!” Then he let out a high pitched yelp, and dropped the book as if it had burned him.

With a loud thud, it landed on the summoning circle and that’s when you saw that the curving calligraphy on the pages were indeed glowing! Not only that, but the moment it touched the chalked symbols, the ground below you started to rumble unlike any earthquake you had ever seen.

Cam and blondie yelped as they fell to the ground together, you not keeping your balance for much longer, and punk kid only staying upright when he threw himself on a picnic table.

“What the hell is happening?!” the girl yelled, pulling the hood of her jacket up as if that would shield her from the horrors unfolding.

“You’re the ones who wanted to summon a demon!” Punk shouted, looking pale and ready to hurl as the ground continued to shake.

Then, within the circle, the already cracked and worn cement split apart. Chunks of it flew as old compacted dirt from beneath surged to the surface, making way for something else.

It wasn’t a man- “man” didn’t begin to describe it. Clawed hands reached towards the sky, lifting above a head of dark curls that did little to hide two large horns. Dark skin around tight muscles that flexed as he rose up from the earth, a bare chest with marks that might have been tattoos, and a blue kilt of some sort that made room for a swaying tail.

Paralyzed on the ground as you were, all you could do was watch with wide eyes as the demon stretched, and let out a roar of a yawn as if waking from a deep sleep. Then his eyes flashed open, revealing deep brown irises rimmed in red.

He scanned them over your little petrified group and, for some reason, your stunned brain noticed the dumbest little detail. 'Oh, he has a number five tattooed on his forehead. Wonder what that means'.

That’s when the demon pulled his lips back in a dastardly grin, revealing large fangs surely made to rip apart human flesh.

“Run,” he growled.

Somebody screamed. Someone else cried some sort of plea. But you couldn’t say anything, all noise dying in your throat as you rolled over and tried to scramble to your feet. Just as you started to, someone (Cam?) knocked into you and sent you tumbling back to the dirt painfully. Footsteps thundered around you and, looking up, you realized that the other three were already disappearing into the darkness as they ran, leaving you behind.

“Wait-” the pleading call was lost in the wind, just as something behind you took a loud step closer.

Somehow your brain was going a mile a minute and not thinking anything at all as you became painfully aware of the large, looming presence closing in on you. Body unable to move from fear, all you could do was listen as the demon let out a low, deep chuckle.

“Some friends you have,” he purred. “Leaving you here.” Something brushed along your back. “All alone.” Leaves rustled as he knelt above you. “With me.” Hot breath fanned against your ear.

A noise very close to a squeal left you as a hand grabbed your shoulder and rolled you over onto your back. You were face to face with the demon now, his arms caging you in on either side, his face hovering over yours, and still sporting that hungry grin as his dark eyes looked you over slowly.

“P-please don’t kill me,” it came out as little more than a wheeze, but at least you managed to say something.

That��s when those brilliant eyes snapped back to yours. There was a heartbeat of silence in which you went through a thousand different ‘this is the end’ scenarios in your head-

But then, the demon threw his head back and laughed!

It wasn’t a sinister, cruel laugh either. Instead it was light and, dare you say, joyful. The kind of laugh a loved one would make after you mentioned some inside joke or another. His broad shoulders shook and that tail of his swished behind him in a way that reminded you of a cat ready to play.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he gasped between laughs, “I didn’t mean to scare you that bad!” He leaned back some then, as if to give you some air, though his arms were still on either side of you. “See, that’s just a little act I do to give you humans a scare.” This time, the grin he flashed was playful and a little lopsided. “You have to admit, you kind of deserve it for yanking me out of my cozy little dimension. It’s a little annoying when you don’t expect to be summoned.”

You opened your mouth, now stunned in a completely different way, but no sound was ready to come out yet, apparently.

That didn’t deter the demon, though, his eyes searched your face when he said, “Course, I did want to scare off the others. Groups are always more annoying, and I kinda liked the idea of having you to myself once I saw how cute you are.”

The unexpected statement caused you to come back down from your fearful high a little. You blinked a few times, then found it in yourself to look him in the eyes more directly. You managed to stutter out a “Wha-what?”

The demon laughed again, a shorter one this time, “Wow, I really must have done a number on you, I’m sorry, mesh’la.” He held up a hand, though the black claws at his fingertips almost made you flinch. “I swear, I’m not going to kill you. Even if I was that type of demon, there’s no challenge in killing humans,” he winked, “you’re too soft and supple.”

Heat took over your face and you weren’t sure if it was annoyance, embarrassment, or something else. Probably a cocktail of the three. After a deep, steadying breath, you finally managed to say something more than a strangled noise or single word.

“So, you’re some kind of good demon?”

He shrugged those naked, now very distracting, shoulders. “Something like that. Mostly, I’m just here to fulfill whatever contract you want from me.”

“M-Me?”

“Yup.”

“Why me?”

The demon looked down at you with something…interesting in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place even though his expression was still light. His hand slid down the ground beside your prone body, until it reached your wrist. He grasped it gently, lifting it to show off your still sore cut.

“Because your blood summoned me. You’re the one I’m bound to, sweetheart.”

Keeping his eyes on yours, he brought your finger to his mouth and closed his lips around the bleeding cut. You found yourself breathless again as a wet tongue ran over the little injury, soothing the ache in a way you didn’t expect.

He pulled your finger out of his mouth with a little pop, then turned that fang flashing smirk on you again. “See, you summoned me, now we make some sort of deal, a contract. You give me something and I give you something in return.” He placed your hand on his naked chest so he could pin his own by your head again. “Name’s Fives, by the way, and you are?”

After swallowing the sudden lump in your throat and not feeling any more calm after doing it, you introduced yourself in the firmest tone you could muster. The demon- Fives, repeated your name slowly, and you could see his tongue tasting every letter of it.

“Hm, I like that name,” he said and again, you caught a glimpse of the spade-tipped tail flicking at his back.

You must have been more distracted by it than you realized, because he brushed the back of a claw down your cheek, before taking your chin in a firm grip to force your eyes back on his. When you did, his gaze seemed just a little darker.

“So, darling, what kind of deal do you want to make with me?”

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#fives x reader #fives x you #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x you #demon fives #halloween prompts #halloween fic #clone x reader #tcw x reader #deeja writes

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