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jadeysjasmine · 2 months

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Neglected - Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Reader

A/N: This is a repost, I have decided to return to tumblr after deleting my account a few weeks ago lol. will be posting my old work gradually as to not spam. Also lost all of my requests so please send more :) 2547 words

Tags: angst

Summary: your relationship had been great until it wasn’t, you were becoming less and less a part of the relationship to the point where they were missing major events.

Joining Barcelona at the start of last season had always been a dream but also a bit of an adjustment, moving from cold and rainy Scotland to warm and sunny Spain was a very welcomed bonus. Your teammates had been phenomenal and welcomed you with open arms, showing you around Barcelona and even teaching you Spanish well trying to.

What you hadn't expected was to catch the eye of a certain couple, from day one Maria and Ingrid were infatuated with you but when you made quick friends with most of your teammates, you barely spoke with the couple, you had tried on a few occasions to speak to them but their replies were always short and it felt like the were trying to end the conversation as soon as possible, which hurt because you too had been drawn to the Spaniard and Norwegian.

While you thought they hated you, that was far from the truth, you made them nervous - so nervous that every time they spoke to you they were unable to form any words.

It all came to a head 4 months of you being at Barca, when you were in a hotel for an away game, you, Maria and Ingrid were in the elevator when it suddenly stopped, while Maria used the emergency button to try and get the lift unstuck, Ingrid noticed you looking sitting in the corner with your knees tucked up to your chest and trying to control your breathing, you hated small spaces and being stuck in an elevator was a living nightmare. She comforted you, eventually Maria joined you all spoke about anything and everything.

From then on you three were inseparable, always spending time together outside training, whether that be getting coffee, having movie nights or even going for dinner, you all also carpooled to and from training together. This went on for months and you found yourself falling more and more in love with the duo, the constant touching, cuddling and friendly kisses on the cheek were driving you insane. You were on the couch of their apartment, in the middle of them, head tucked into Ingrid's chest with Maria pressed to your back and all your legs in a tangle of limbs, watching your favourite movie.

You were only half paying attention, trying to steady your beating heart at being so close to them, you felt Ingrid guide your head out of her chest using your chin as she brought your lips to meet her own, you sighed kissing back, allowing yourself to enjoy the kiss before reality hit and the only thing you could think of was Maria, you abruptly pulled away, eyes wide and darting between Maria and Ingrid panicked, an amused and worried smile on both of their faces and Maria cupped your cheeks and bringing you into a much less sweet kiss than the one you shared with Ingrid. That night was filled with sweet kisses and confessions of love, your second favourite night, only beaten by the night the finally asked you to be their girlfriend.

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That brings you to now, a few weeks away from celebrating your 1 year anniversary, the past year had been the best year of your life, spending it with your two favourite girls. The only downside is the secrecy, of course it hurt but with Maria and Ingrid so set on not exposing your relationship, not to teammate, not to friends and family, not to anyone, there isn't much you can do.

It was difficult at times but not being much of a fan of PDA it was easy, still spending loads of time with your girls outside of training but that all flipped when the locker room chat switch to talk about your friendship, many teasing comments about how much time you all spend together and a empty comment from Patri.

"You spend so much time together, its like you're part of their relationship Y/N/N." she and the rest of the locker room giggle, you could see Ingrid and Maria tense but giggle along as to not draw attention to them, you also played along, playfully rolling your eyes but you also tensed, hoping no one noticed.

The drive home with Maria and Ingrid was filled with an awkward silence, you sat in the back, Maria drove and Ingrid was next to her in the passenger seat. You had tried to initiate conversation on a few occasions but only getting vague answers and sometimes no answer at all, just a hum of acknowledgment, not pushing it any further when you noticed the growing frustration on both of your girlfriends faces.

Your thoughts spiralling as to what you could have done to upset your girlfriends, having completely forgot about the conversation in the locker room as In your eyes it was significant. Pulling up outside your apartment complex you were confused, usually spending all of your time over at their apartment.

Before you could even question anything, like she could read your mind, Ingrid spoke. "Maria and I thought we could have a date night, just like the two of us. We haven't had one in a while and thought it'd be nice"

Hurt flashed across your face, only for a second as you plastered a fake smile as to not seem clingy.

"Yeah, no problem. Are we still on for breakfast before training tomorrow?" you questioned.

"We were just going to do it at home and then head to training early, Maria has an appointment with the physio" she said, not even looking you in the eye.

Maria had parked the car outside your apartment building and was now mindlessly scrolling on her phone, you noticed her jaw clenched but didn't bring it up.

"Ok, well see you tomorrow, Bye." you nodded, trying to mask the hurt in your voice, no reply from either of your girlfriends was a sign so you grabbed your training bag and exited the vehicle, not looking back.

You hadn't made it to the door of your apartment complex when you heard the sound of Maria's car driving off, your eyes stinging as you tried to hold back tears, shaky hands barely able to scan your key card on the door. You headed towards the elevator, mind racing as you clicked your floor. Being in an elevator just again brings your thoughts to Maria and Ingrid, wondering what you could have possibly done to have upset them.

Finally hearing the door ding, signalling the arrival to your floor, you dragged your feet to your apartment, shoulders slumped as your mood has worsened. Kicking your door open, dumping your jacket, bag and shoes to the side, closing your door with more force than necessary and barely making it to the couch before you began sobbing, head in your hands and the only sounds in the apartment were sobs and gasps for air.

You woke up on the couch, you must have passed out from exhaustion from how long you were crying for, you picked your phone up from the floor to realise it had died, the clock on the wall reading 8:34pm, a whole 6 hours since you arrived back to your apartment. Thoughts cut off by the loud grumble of your stomach, deciding that you should actually eat something you, very grumpily, first went down the hall to your bedroom to put your phone on charge, before making your way to the kitchen to make dinner. As you spend most of your time at Maria and Ingrid's apartment you don't have much food in so you settled on tuna pasta.

Now finished eating you dispose of you dishes in the sick, deciding its tomorrows problem, and trudging to your room, deciding that you should shower you go into your ensuite, strip off your training gear and step into the steaming shower, hoping the very hot borderline boiling water will at least let you feel something, anything.

You were not wrapped up in bed, wearing a pair of Maria's sweatpants and one of Ingrid's hoodie, hoping that whatever that was bothering them earlier has faded and they reached out to you, but nothing other than radio silence, you sighed and started scrolling on Instagram when you noticed both Maria and Ingrid had posted stories, cautiously clicking, it was a selfie of the out to dinner and at further examination it was at your favourite restaurant, fresh tears pricked your eyes as clicked off, giving it one last chance texting them good night and asking if they wanted to get lunch tomorrow after training tomorrow, as expected, no reply.

Placing your phone on your bedside table and laying down, wiping the tears from your face, which was pointless as new ones just replaced them, you, for the second time today, cried yourself to sleep.

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Waking up to your alarm, angrily turning it off as your head pounded. Checking your phone, hoping that they replied to your text but nothing. Huffing as you got up, walking towards your bathroom, you started brushing your teeth when you finally looked into the mirror for the first time, you looked awful as your eyes were red and swollen, cheeks stained with dried tears and your hair was a mess.

Splashing cold water on your face you got ready for training, deciding to skip breakfast you head off to training, the drive there is quiet, opting to have the radio off.

Arriving at the training ground, you try be as invisible as possible, straight into the changing room, small smile of acknowledgement to anyone who greeted you, you were changed in record time and went straight to the training pitch.

Training was awful, missing easy passes, missing shots and being the reason your team lost scrimmage. Jonathan kept you after training and tore into you, telling you to get your act together and that you're benched for the next game. You just nodded and apologised, focusing more on not crying and embarrassing yourself more.

Shoulders sagging and head down, you entered the changing room hoping to leave as quickly as possible, missing the worried glances sent by your teammates as you stripped your training gear off and changed into fresh clothes, deciding to shower at home, you shoved your stuff into your bag and sped walked to your car.

You had just put your training bag into your boot and were getting into your car when you heard your name being called, you looked up and saw Irene and Alexia making their way to you.

"Hola Hermosa, are you ok? you don't look too good." Alexia spoke, tone as soft as her eyes, making you want to breakdown and confess how you're feeling but you couldn't because that would mean telling them about you, Maria and Ingrid and that would upset them, Even more that what they seem to be.

Realising you're taking too long to answer you muster up your best fake smile, "yeah I'm fine, just tired." you spoke, Alexia and Irene don't seem to convinced but decided not to push.

Irene was next, pulling you into a hug, which you melted into as she spoke, just as softly as Alexia had, "Ok Chiqui, we wont push you, but you will let us know if there is anything bothering you, si?"

You nodded, not trusting you voice, they both kissed your forehead and you got into your vehicle and drove home.

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They had eventually approached you the following training session, asking to meet at their place, now sitting on their couch, across from your girlfriends? not daring to make eye contact, your hands more interesting.

The silence was defining, you had assumed they were going to end it so you were preparing for the inevitable heartbreak but when Maria spoke us, you looked at her confused, not expecting her to apologise.

"We are so sorry for ignoring you amor, we just panicked when Patri made that joke but we love you so much and we don't want to lose you"

Ingrid took your viable confusing as a hint to keep going, "Yes elskling, we never meant for you to be hurt and we cannot express how sorry we are, please forgive us" she said with an adorable and unrefusable pout.

A small smile tugged at your lips as your threw yourself at then, wrapping then in a hug and for the first time in days, feeling at peace.

The moment was interrupted by your stomach grumbling loudly, causing both of them to giggle. "Hungry bebita?" Maria teased as you smiled sheepishly.

You all spent the evening eating takeaway and cuddled on the couch, making up for lost time.

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The past few weeks have been better, not quite returned to before but you are back to spending time outside of training together, in training though to not raise any further suspicion you barely interact at training.

Your 1 year anniversary was today and you woke up to sweet messages from your girls, smiling and replying with your own. You had an off day today so you have invited them over for dinner to celebrate, you were going all out and making their favourites.

Its currently 11am so you head to the store to pick up the necessary ingredients, you return home and begin prep.

You are going all out so you decorate the Livingroom with blankets, pillows, fairy light and photo memories of your relationship.

Your finished decorating and almost done preparing the food, you make sure to turn everything down low and run upstairs to get showered and ready.

Once you're showered you put on your make up and curl your hair, you put on a skin tight black dress and heels, you put on the necklace Ingrid got you for your birthday and the rings Maria got you.

You rush downstairs, you set up the gifts you got them on the Livingroom table. You got them some cat related things, you got Ingrid a necklace with matching earing and you got Maria a few rings and a new tattoo gun with some accessories, you finished it off with a bouquet of their favourite flowers and a handwritten note expressing your feelings, you have never been good communication these verbally so you though to write it down so they can read it.

You look at the clock, 5:55pm, they will be here in five minutes so you go to the kitchen and dish up the plates just it time and light the candles on the table.

6:05pm

You decide to shoot them a text, no answer.

6:20pm

You're a bit frustrated now considering they haven't answered, you decide not to try and call them but they went to answer phone.

7:00pm

You cover the food, deciding to reheat when they arrive, another few calls unanswered so again you send a few texts.

8:00pm

Radio silence, you're heartbroken and already you can feel your eyes sting and your lip trembling as tears fall down.

Even through no one else is here, embarrassed for being stood up you blow out the candles that haven't already given up, put the food away in the fridge and turn off all the lights you had set up.

You go to your bathroom, wipe off your smeared make up, change out of the uncomfortable dress and just like a few weeks ago, you cry yourself to sleep heartbroken by the two people in your life you hope wouldn't treat you like this.

Now laying in bed, there's only one questions on your mine; Why dont they love me?

#woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagine #ingrid engen #ingrid engen imagine #ingrid engen x reader

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mhin-t · 10 months

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even more obey me headcanons

this is a repost from my old account (@/s1lly-l1ttl3-b0y, which has been deleted), so if you recognize these, that's why :3

lucifer used to be as bad with tech as early game simeon

one of satan's many hobbies is candle making

beel constantly gets chocolate grimm and regular grimm mixed up

solomon has blended burnt toast and water together to have as one of those "smoothie breakfasts" that are so popular in the human realm

the brothers, royals, and purgatory hall residents have a biweekly dnd meetup, and mc has taken over as the dm

luke refuses to eat pizza

levi has the biggest collection of clothes out of the entire cast because of how many cosplay outfits he has

simeon is the one most likely to go yandere for mc

barbatos listens to metal while cleaning

satan has a damnblr (devildom tumblr) where he makes book recommendations and reviews. no one knows it's him running it though

levi wears a spica splint whenever he's not gaming due to tendonitis

watching ratatouille was nightmare fuel for barbatos

diavolo cries at really cute animals

asmo also calls barbatos "barbara"

simeon, luke, and solomon tried to do an escape room but got so stuck that after an hour of making no progress, the attendant watching them had to essentially walk them through the entire thing

solomon and levi have matching friendship bracelets

belphie cuddles a pillow from beel's bed whenever beel isn't there

levi is really good at coding because he learned it to make a fansite for ruri-chan

solomon accidentally turned himself into a toad once, and now he does it on purpose to get out of doing things he doesn't want to do

barbatos has been calling himself "one hell of a butler" ever since levi called him that. he still doesn't know where that line is from

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #writing tag

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alexthebordercollie · 4 months

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I accidentally deleted my old tumblr account :/ so if I'm stuck having to start over from scratch I may as well start with reposting my most popular comic. Before this was posted in separate pieces at least now it's all in one and in order. Insight into Bruno's depression and the way his mental health impacts the people around him. From his sobrina struggling with the weight of knowing he's struggling without understanding why to his hermana feeling bitter and abandoned by his withdrawal because she's struggling in her own trauma and doesn't understand the way Bruno reacts to his trauma.

#encanto #bruno madrigal #dolores madrigal #pepa madrigal #tlaa #tw sui ideation #depression tw

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damazcuz · 2 months

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I don't think people responding to the scrambled "uh oh, we got caught" Tumblr AI announcement with "just nightshade and glaze all the art you post guys! it's your own fault if you don't do that small step! It's ok we'll get through this!" are Getting It:

Everything has already been scraped, including the account you haven't been able to access since 2015. Yes even the private, locked sideblogs of all your old art. Did you glaze it? did you nightshade it? in 2015? can you log in and check? no? Opted in.

This also includes any writing, creative or otherwise, posted to Tumblr. Did you nightshade the poetry and fanfiction you posted to Tumblr on your old account in 2018? why not? not a plan-aheader huh? Opted in!

It's opt in by default and by design. People who left Tumblr ages ago will likely not hear about this and won't know to regain account access and opt out. People who have died won't be able to log in and opt out. People who deleted past accounts or sideblogs won't be able to log in and opt out. People whose content is reposted here from Pixiv or other external sources by unrelated third parties won't have any way to say "hey half of that blog is MY stuff. Opt ME out."

Sorry. They just have everything ever put on the site. And you didn't opt out in 2015 when you lost access to your login email, so it's included. This is on purpose because they don't WANT people to be able to opt out, they want people to stay opted in saying "well my art sucks so I'm poisoning the data model 👍" while posting jokes and creative writing, they WANT you to say "well I'm unaffected" and keep posting photos and text and stuff. Midjourney wants that and Tumblr wants to do anything it can to satisfy Midjourney and scrape some cash out of that deal.

I'm sorry because I love this place too, but genuinely the decisions being made here are business decisions being put into place by a company trying to squeeze the last drops of blood out of a stone. Tumblr is not your friend. Staff is not your friend. Automattic is not your friend. The CEO has hopefully PROVEN he is not anyone's friend. This is a business first and a product that they are selling, not to you and me, but to advertisers and partners. Tumblr will ensure that Tumblr users see their ads and supply them data.

Frankly I do not trust this company or this website and I cannot in good faith just believe that they're going to look at my opt out checkbox and say "okay! ^_^ we will remove everything Dama has ever said or done from our AI scrape. we promise to do it!" and then actually do it. They already have the data. They can just claim that whatever is produced through machine learning based in part off of my data is unrelated, came from other sources, etc. I do not have trust in this website. I don't see how anyone could at this point.

I feel like I'm watching a trainwreck from the inside and no one wants to get out of their seats and try hopping off into the safe grassy field. Wait, they say. Let's see if the train just climbs back onto the tracks, they say. The fire and explosions are all part of the process, they say. Eventually people will stop panicking or dying and it'll be a smooth ride, they say. Just look at how bright the horizon is.

#🛤️ well frankly i hope it explodes even faster.#lawsuit save me. lawsuit. save me lawsuit.

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teatreeoilll · 4 months

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|| Flustered (Geto Suguru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

in which reader has a big crush on Geto (don't we all?), just kind of me tapping into the funny post-credits vibes of jjk. notes: I even kept the small headlines I made for each part because it felt cute, might delete later.

w/c: 1.1 k

screenshot credits to user yutamayo.

The part where Geto Suguru likes seeing you flustered.

You were sure Geto Suguru hadn't the slightest idea of what he was doing. Because if he did, it would make him a devil.

He'd always sit patiently waiting for the end of class before coming up to you, just to place a large hand on your shoulder while you were still sitting in your seat, letting it linger there for far too long as he spoke.

"Be careful, yeah?" He heard passingly from Shoko about the mission you were about to take on with one of the older sorcerers.

"Always am." You smile, thinking that if he doesn't move his hand off of your shoulder soon, the warmth of his fingertips might burn through the fabric of your uniform.

"That's not what Shoko says," He gets down on his knees to face you and tilts his head lightly, a dark strand of hair grazing the side of his nose. It would be impolite to not look straight at him now - the eye contact he kept so easily made the blush creep to your cheeks. His hand moves to rest on your thigh. There's no chance in hell he doesn't know what he's doing.

"Huh?"

"Are you feeling okay? Your face looks red, you shouldn't go if you feel sick." He says.

"I'm - fine, I just -" Your chair scrapes the floor as you get up abruptly, "I don't want to keep Mei Mei waiting."

Did someone tell him that I have a crush on him? You thought while stumping down the hall, the only one who knows is Shoko, and there's no chance she'd do that. Damn it.

The part where you learn that if you ever ask for something of Mei Mei, be very specific.

It doesn't help to wipe the sweat. It just mixes with dirt and blood that covered you from head to toe, leaving your vision blurred and your moves sloppy. Mei Mei has it all under control - as she usually does, with her battleaxe swinging elegantly through numerous curses each instant, leaving their severed parts to rest on the dirty linoleum floors, but it doesn't mean she'd let you off easy.

"You should at least try to focus, or you wouldn't live long enough to have any chance of getting together with Geto."

huh?

"I'm sorry. I'll focus." you mutter shamefully.

The mission ends almost instantaneously when Mei Mei finds the curse responsible for the recent killings, her blows unwavering even at the horrid sight. You knew you weren't at your usual level on this mission, but Mei Mei's words have shifted your focus completely.

The car ride was silent except for the sound of your uniform's fabric brushing over the car seat every time your leg bounced restlessly, thoughts running back and forth through your mind.

"Mei-Mei, How'd you know that -"

She didn't even wait for your sentence to finish; "Gojo paid me to send a raven to pry on yours and Shoko's conversations."

"Oh," fuck, "wait, shouldn't it be a secret?"

"He paid me to snoop," a smile grazed her lips, "not to keep a secret."

The part where Gojo Satoru faces imminent death.

"I'll kill you, Satoru!" You shout, but Gojo only likes it more. He runs around the class pretending that all the things you're throwing at his direction will actually hurt him. He hides his tall figure poorly behind desks, giggling every time another part of school property passes his head by a few inches.

"And end a bloodline just like that?" He teases.

Shoko stands silently in the doorway, watching the scene unfold. She puts a cigarette in her mouth, ready to turn away from the class and leave you to deal with Gojo in any way that you see fit. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Geto approaching the classroom, oblivious to the new developments.

"Ieri - " He tries to say something, but she just slowly shakes her head "No".

"Wouldn't go in there if I were you." Shoko closes the door behind her, muffling the conundrum of threats and laughter coming out of the room.

In the hall, Gojo's mocking words could still be heard through loud thuds of heavy objects hitting the floor, "D'you really wanna' kill your boyfriends best friend?"

The part where Geto Suguru is so, so sorry.

Geto felt the guilt rush over him now that you knew that he had flustered you very much deliberately. You've ignored him for almost a week now, which by any means would be considered a feat, seeing that you've spent hours together in classes and practice almost every day. And even when he came to apologize, befitting a Jujutsu sorcerer, you stood before him in the hallway with an unholy amount of unwavering pride.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, especially when I knew that you have a crush on me." He had stated the obvious, but still somehow managed to lie. He really wasn't sorry - his heart fluttered everytime he saw your face turn crimson under his touch.

"Had." You corrected.

"Had?"

"Yeah, had a crush on you."

"Oh, so you don't anymore?"

"No." You lied through your teeth, but you were rather convinced that if you'd just keep focusing on the anger you felt, the feeling will blow over eventually anyway.

"That's understandable," He says, taking a small step closer to you, just to test the waters. When you didn't move, he raised his arm slowly, pressing the palm of his hand to the side of your face, watching your body involuntarily eliciting the same response he longed for. On the tips of his fingers he clearly felt your jaw tense up slightly, and the heat gathering quickly in your cheeks, "But I just can't have that happen. You look so cute like this, you know?"

It was futile to resist his kiss, his whole body felt like it belonged to be pressed right against yours. Your pride melted against his tongue, his lips only stopping when he had to draw a quick breath. By the time his hand was entangled in your hair, it was too late to try and regain the last shreds of dignity, and so you opted to wrap your arms around him to press your bodies even closer.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen X reader #jjk geto #jjk getou #geto X reader #geto X you #geto X y/n #geto suguru X reader #getou suguru X reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

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WIBTA if i cut off someone reaching out for help on tumblr? i am a very anxious person. ive been on tumblr a very long time because most all other social media terrifies me as someone who grew up with the wild west internet a decade past (im in my late 20s) so i feel sometimes with how reckless and spurractic people can be online in chatroom and especially clearly public platforms where any stranger, malicious or otherwise can just archive your digital presence for personal use.

more recently as someone who has been here during the pornban and as an asexual really enjoyed the quiet with no drama farming and a slow pace to talk about more unique political topics in a measured way it is something im strangely nostalgic for and a great example of my sensibilities to people when they insist that i use other platforms like discord or twitter or whatever clone for these services comes out of the old guard introducing feature creep to copy everyone else or any other indi "were the anti corporate version" of the endless scroll apps. i just dont want it. tumblr is special because im desktop only, been here for years, and i have kept track of every single change made so i have manually adjusted the change through hacks to evade every bad decision on here and make my set up look identical to how it was in 2010. so let it be understood that i tend to be a loney person because of this stubbornness. web 3.0 is too dangerous to people with addictive tendencies that my adhd brings out and my need to wear my heart on my sleeve. so i hope i defended my personality type enough to show why someone like me would see a post about some horrible abuses they have fell victim to who also share alot of the marginalized status as me and writing depressive things in the replys of others posts as to attention seek about it.

i directly interact with this person, not only to check if they are real (but wow, modern chat bots make this part horrifying for me. we really cant ever know for sure what is real anymore. trying to find warmth on the internet feels impossible now a days) i have multiple conversations at this point both venting and just casually shooting the shit. but the begging for me to constantly repost their paypal makes me so nervous in a way that i feel so guilty for because it reminds me of all the scams that get associated with this kind of ebegging and the reminder that capitalism takes away all warmth from human interaction to make them purely transnational and conditional. but then it just has been escalating where im so scared that now its not enough that im reposing on my 8 follower, all mutual blog, they are asking me to share it on other socials. accounts i do not have i have a flip phone and a laptop and i am tinkering with a windows 7 tower that will never be connected to the internet so i can always have software sit perfectly in its time capsule for when i need it. i do not have a way to help this person outside of what i learned from collage psyche classes. a part of me is so scared to just abruptly cut them off and just delete my entire account like i tend to do often on tumblr for a multitude of reasons, its a part of what lets people survive being here this long but i worry that would crush them if i did that, i dont want to make them feel more hopeless and unwanted then they already talk about. but i am text on the internet through a screen. i can only do so much. so would i be the asshole if i just deleted my account with a "i hope you hang in there, the world is a harsh place but keep moving" to cut someone so similar to me who is struggling out of my life?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lyomeii · 2 years

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Sukuna with a darling being reincarnated

->warnings: yandere theme, death but not detailed, yuji is kinda a yandere too :)

->request by anon! headcanons/scenario of sukuna being yandere for reader who used to be his lover when he still had his true form and got rebirthed, please. maybe with yuuji also turning yandere for the reader, if you're willing to write that, thankyou. [gn!reader or male!reader]

->a/n: ohhh! been a while since i wrote for jjk! and i must say it took way long than i wanted, not only i had to watch some episode to catch sukuna personality but been reading the manga, and let me say how the current arc being mess with my head :) also this is with a male reader, so if u feel uncomfortable or anything don’t read. and sorry for taking this time to post it, tumblr got mad and delete and i had to rewrite everything :/

-> the king of curses remembers you, even before being sealed, you were his lover, of course he did had many to warm his bed but you were different

-> a young man who stole his heart and become his favorite and ( after he kills his other lovers ) the only person who he was able to be less dangerous and bloodthirsty he was, sharing touches and kisses though the day, how much he truly loved you

-> until he got sealed by that sorcerers! he never saw you, only heard from his enemies that you were torture and later had any memories of the jujutsu world erased just to you get married to someone else, a truly sad end to both lovers

-> however, when he manage to came back inside of yuji’s body, one of the few thoughts he had was asking what happened to you, his lovers and unfortunately, gojo confirmed what he heard before , that you die a long time ago after getting married to a random person

-> to say at least, sukuna was sad but manage to hide it beyond a mask of furious and destruction, slowing learning to stay calm and accept what happened to you

-> that what he though, once yuji got to jujutsu high, sukuna saw you, alive and well, but how? did you reincarnated or somehow related to his lovers? that don’t matter, as long you are with him

-> a young teacher specialized in fast healing during battles and fights, you are brave, sukuna couldn’t deny that, he saw you in action a few time while instructing the first years and share to yuji how proud he is of you

-> yuji though at first that sukuna only got interested in you because of your abilities, but started slowly notice how the curse would act around your presence

-> sukuna would try to take control over yuji’s body when both of you are in the same room and even he could control it, yuji decided to tell gojo about the current situation

-> and as yuji expected, gojo knew why the king of the curse was acting weirdly and showed the boy a old painting, a old one framed in glass, painted in the most lively colors, and the man represented is you

-> gojo’s words impressed the young boy, how you are the reincarnation of a lover from sukuna, his favorite one and the council hopes to use you as a bargain if anything bad happens to them

-> while sukuna did heard everything, he decided to stay put, he needs a plan to take you away from the council and control yuji’s body without worries, so for a while, he will keep playing slow, waiting for the moment to get you and destroy the sorcerers while you are in his lap

-> and you now? you still curious to know why your student is still acting weird around you, it is due the amount of blood you two had seen? you still have no ideas why but maybe he is just nervous around you

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere x you #yandere jjk #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere sukuna #sukuna x reader #mlm #male reader #yandere male x male reader

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deputyrook · 6 months

Text

Impressions- 1/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

(Repost after I accidentally deleted my tumblr 😭)

Kerry, an old friend of yours, knows that you have a gift for clairvoyance. When she reaches another dead end in the search for Jigsaw, she brings you into the station in a moment of desperation.

Unfortunately, it's not just the two of you who are present for your revelations.

Word count: 3498

Set after Saw II. Inspired in part by this gifset. I have no plan for this, I just started writing for fun, and suddenly I had 3000 words down.

WARNINGS: Blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, reader is deeply afraid, general Saw-levels of horror.

“Pretty sure having civilians in here is against the rules,” Detective Mark Hoffman remarks to his colleagues as he enters the precinct room, “…and having them play with the evidence definitely is.”

Rigg looks up toward the voice, as do you, but Allison Kerry doesn’t. Her eyes are trained on the piece of evidence that you hold in gloved hands, a small and rusted lock.

Spread out on the desk in front of you are a variety of grisly photographs- from crime scenes and autopsies, all related to the now infamous Jigsaw killer- and a few pieces of physical evidence. It turns your stomach just to see them, but you swallow your discomfort and try not to show on your face how upsetting you find it.

“Take it up with the Chief. He approved this, as long as it never gets out to the public,” Kerry responds with a scowl.

Nobody is happy you’re here. Least of all you. Rigg is the one to finally say it to Hoffman, with an air of forced levity- “Kerry’s got a psychic friend.”

That makes you wince, and Detective Hoffman’s reaction- a slight raise of his eyebrow, and an audible scoff- makes you all the more embarrassed to be here.

“Well, I gotta see this. Aren’t you going to introduce me?” He asks Kerry, walking over and pulling up a seat to the table that you’re all sitting around. He sets his cup of coffee down on the table, right beside some horrific metal contraption, and looks you over skeptically.

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Kerry snaps, her voice raising in irritation. She finally looks over at Hoffman, shooting him a glare. “She’s been right about things before, and Eric’s been missing for months. You have another lead, you let me know.” Having defended herself, and by extension you, Kerry runs a hand through her hair and sighs.

After a pause, she tells Hoffman your name, and then adds, “We’ve been friends since college.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say with a strained smile. He nods in response, but he’s smirking, like he finds the entire thing ridiculous. To be fair, it is.

“Listen, I don’t… normally do this kind of thing, I swear,” you say to the table of detectives, who all watch you in anticipation. You feel like you’re on a stage, and it makes you worry they can see you start to sweat. You feel the need to defend yourself further, and prove you're not insane (or worse, an idiot). “This isn’t my job. I don’t charge money to do this or anything. I’m only here because Allison asked me.”

“Well then, work your magic,” Hoffman says, taking a sip of his coffee, “Rigg, you willing to put money on this?”

“Let me guess, you’re betting against?” Rigg shoots back, and Hoffman gestures as if to say, obviously.

Ignoring the heat of embarrassment rising in your cheeks, you close your eyes.

“I can’t promise anything,” you mumble, but even as you speak you’re starting to get impressions. Those strange feelings and impulses that beat against your intuition like a war drum.

Turning over the lock in your hands, you feel a sudden sharp pain in your left eye- you drop the lock, cringing, and gingerly reach up to touch your eye, feeling the bone of the socket under the skin.

“I haven’t told her a thing about the investigation, by the way,” Kerry says, and you detect a note of pride, or perhaps vindication, in her tone.

“Something was… here. Cold and heavy, like a lodged bullet.” You point to your eye. The table is silent now. You could hear a pin drop now, each detective’s rapt attention singularly on you. You get the feeling of something on your face, hard and suffocating. And then, the impression of cold- the long winter, wind whistling through trees, and still snow. The forest, the river, the empty lake.

Death.

“This was- whoever was associated with this didn’t make it out alive.” You open your eyes and pick up the autopsy photos, scanning through them until you find one that fits. A sheet covers the head, but you know what’s underneath. You still feel the echo of the mask on your face. Quietly, you pick it up, and then set it back down.

“Some of the details leaked. Lucky guess. Tell us somethin’ about John Kramer or his assistant.” Hoffman says, and you see him shuffle in his seat. His demeanour has changed, going serious. Keyed into your intuition as you are, something spikes a signal of danger through the back of your mind.

Not all that unusual for the cops you’ve met, though.

For several minutes, you get nothing but flutters of feeling and pain. Your foot goes numb, prickles like pins and needles; your body feels warm, like it’s being baked under the sun. Each sensation comes and goes just as quickly. You take the strange metal contraption in your hands, feeling the weight of it in your grasp, and close your eyes again, trying to stifle the feeling of panic that rises within you.

And then slowly, it comes to you. A vision of a chessboard, with multiple pieces, moving too fast for you to follow. It hurts your head to try. Finally, you speak again.

“I think… there’s more than just one. There’s the King. The Bishop. The Rook. The Knight- there’s at least… five? No, four. No wait, there’s a Queen, but is she aware of the play, or just a pawn promoted? And who is he? Is he real, or an imitation?” Your words are coming too fast for you to censor, spilling out so quickly that you trip over them.

“Are you saying there are… a team of Jigsaw killers?” Rigg asks dubiously. You nod.

“I think so. It’s all jumbled, it’s… a thousand strings weaved into patterns that I can’t follow. There are plans laid on top of plans, curled into schemes and plots. The King’s Crown is tainted with a rot, it drips down his forehead, it hurries his hands. It guides their every act.”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know where they are. I just feel her desperation- the Bishop. It’s like a fucking- it’s a torrent. She needs him, because she hurts, and she doesn’t know what care is like if it doesn’t hurt. God, and there’s so much hurt. It’s- it’s endless, it’s all pain. It's all pain.”

“She’s not making any sense-” Rigg mutters.

“Eric Matthews. Where is Eric Matthews,” Kerry’s voice cuts through, bringing its own hailstorm of impressions to you- regret, remorse, desire, annoyance, desperation and guilt, heavy like a stone. Suddenly, you’re struck by the image of Kerry as an angel. You shake it off, confused.

“Ah… cold. It’s cold. He’s inside the Earth. Buried below ground, somewhere deep and dark. Poor Matthews. God. It’s so cold,” you can’t help but shudder, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. It seems so lonely.

Kerry is silent. It’s obvious she would have preferred something more optimistic.

“Anything else?” She asks finally.

“Yeah there’s… there’s something…” you bite your lip, and grimace. There’s a feeling there, distant and only a flicker, but it seems really, really important.

“I can’t quite figure it out, it’s like… it’s like a mirror. What is it? What are you saying?” You sigh, trying to understand. A feeling of rage slips through you. Horrible, sickly loss and rage. A heady sadism, the feeling of power. A feeling of voyeurism- of enjoying it.

You receive a flash of an image, a large figure, in a pig mask. That image is pretty fucking clear, but there’s something about it that you’re just not getting, that seems like it should be really, really obvious to you. You chase the feeling through the corners of your mind, like a dream you can’t quite remember.

The image of the pig’s mask turns to a theatre mask, and then to a blank void. It swirls and laughs at you, mocking.

“There’s something I’m not seeing with him. The brutal one, the Rook. It’s like... he’s been tied up and pulled into this by a wire. The King uses it to move him, but what started in reluctance has become...something else. Something sick,” you mumble. Ironically, with the face a blank and swirling void, the impression becomes stronger.

You feel obsession, the kind that eats away at a soul. They all have it, but this is like a slow burn, a chemical fire in his heart that erupts and spills out. He enjoys it.

And suddenly, it’s like he’s right there. Close, close, it’s so strong and burning so clear because he’s right in front of-

Your eyes snap open, and you’re staring at Detective Mark Hoffman, whose eyes drill into yours.

Without a doubt, with one hundred percent, absolute certainty, you know that he is one of the Jigsaw killers.

“Uh,” you tear your gaze from his, and look at Kerry. The prickle of danger is alighting every nerve in your body, and quickly, you’re starting to panic. You laugh nervously. “Sorry, I don’t know what that was. I don’t have anything else. I should go.” Abruptly, you stand. You need to get the fuck out of this room, where Jigsaw is sitting just feet you-

“Hold on.” Hoffman’s voice freezes you. He rests a hand on your arm, and like a frightened rabbit, you jump. “You alright? That was a lot. You sure you didn’t get anything else?”

“What, are you a believer now?” Rigg asks him. He too looks a bit shaken, but frowns. “Sorry, but we didn’t learn anything from that. I could have told you Eric’s dead. The rest was a mess.”

You incline your head in an apology, feeling your hands start to shake. “I didn’t get anything else. No identities of the accomplices, or anything like that,” Fuck. Fuck, you need to stop talking. When you say the word accomplice, Hoffman’s grip tightens on your arm.

His eyes meet yours, and you feel your breath catch. You think you’re going to be sick.

“You did good,” Kerry says, though she sounds disappointed. She looks over her notepad. “We got a lot of information that’ll be helpful to keep in mind as we investigate. And who knows, maybe more will come to you later.”

“Yeah, maybe,” You say. Suddenly, another wave of pain and dizziness crashes over you, so overpowering that your vision swims. You’re falling, spinning, and then you’re caught in a warm embrace. Sturdy arms are holding you, keeping you from collapsing to the ground.

You open your eyes to see the killer holding you, peering down at you. Expressionless.

Somehow, it feels comforting, even knowing what you know. Somehow, it feels protective.

Lies upon lies.

“Hey, I’m headed out anyway. I can drive you home,” Hoffman says gently, and your eyes widen. Wee oo, wee oo! DANGER!

“Oh, no, I’m okay, really,” You mumble, but as you try to stand and extricate yourself from Hoffman’s grip, he just holds tighter. He smiles in a way where you can sense the snarl, just below the surface.

“Shh. It’s alright. Don’t worry about it,” He says, quiet and forceful, right beside your ear. You catch Rigg rolling his eyes.

“Really Mark?” He mutters. You shift in the embrace again, attempting to stand upright. This time, he lets you go, but keeps a hand on you. To the others you’re sure it looks like a helping hand to steady you. To you, it seems like a threat.

But what can you do? If you scream out that holy fuck, he’s a Jigsaw accomplice, Kerry might believe you and no one else will. You don’t know what Hoffman might do under pressure, but you’re certain that the word of a crackpot psychic wouldn’t be enough to put him behind bars. Not without some kind of proof. And without that, your safety would very much be in danger. More than it already is.

You could adamantly refuse his ride, but then he would definitely know that you know. And again, that puts you in a very dangerous position.

Maybe you could play it off as though you didn’t see or know anything? What choice did you have? Kerry had accidentally fucked you by asking you to come in and do your best.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concerned. She looks from you, to Hoffman. “I have to stay at the office a bit longer, but I’ll catch up with you after. I promise, Mark’s a good guy, even if he looks scary and gets on my nerves. He’ll get you home safe.”

You muster up a smile. Kerry and Rigg know you’re leaving with him. He can’t do anything.

“S-sure. A ride home would be great, then. If it’s not too much trouble.” Your smile wobbles under the intensity of Hoffman’s stare. You feel like a mouse, being cornered by a hawk. Finally, he lets go of you, only to put his hand on the small of your back.

“Steady now,” he says, "It's no trouble." You nod.

“Thanks. Sorry again I couldn’t be of more help,” you shoot Kerry an apologetic smile, and are ushered out of the room by Detective Hoffman.

He leads you out of the precinct, keeping his hand on your back as he does. All the while, your stomach churns in anxiety. Down the corridors, and around countless bends and offices, you're lead down the stairs and eventually reach the door outside.

He stays right beside you all the way out to his car, close enough that you can hear him breathing. By now, it’s dark out, a quarter past nine in the evening. Kerry had asked you to come late, so that if anyone was watching the precinct, you wouldn’t draw any attention- jokes on her, you supposed.

Hoffman opens the car door for you- what a gentleman- and closes it behind you with a heavy thud. It feels like the closing of a coffin door.

A coffin. Another flash, of a coffin filled with glass. Blood, everywhere blood.

“Never believed in psychics before,” Hoffman says to you. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat when you open your eyes. You hadn’t heard him enter the car.

“That’s what Kerry said, the first time I told her,” you murmured. You glance around the vehicle. The doors are locked from the inside, and you don’t know how to open them.

“What’d you see this time?” Hoffman asks as he starts up the car.

“Uh, I don’t know. It was all blurry,” You reply. If you’re going to try to convince him you’re a shit psychic, you’d better start now.

“Uh-huh,” he replies as he pulls out of the parking lot, “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You swallow nervously, your heart starting to beat wildly in your chest.

“I haven’t told you where I live,” you mention, trying to keep your voice light.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Hoffman answers coldly.

Oh, you’re so fucked.

You close your eyes, searching your intuition and trying to calm your breathing. The damn ‘gift’ has never been much help to you, but if it could get you out of this situation, you would pray to Cassandra every night for the rest of your life in thanks.

“Don’t bother lying any more.” At first, you think it’s your intuition saying that. After a second, you realize it was Detective Hoffman. “You said enough that I know you’re for real. So what’d you see?”

You glance out the window. He’s taking you out of the downtown core, away from the busy streets and traffic lights and out toward the highway. Swallowing nervously, you reply, “A glass coffin. A lot of blood. I don’t know if it’s something that’s happened or is going to happen. It’s never really clear- that’s true.”

And I’m sorry about your sister, a voice inside you whispers surreptitiously. You bite your tongue before you say it out loud.

“How often you get that?” He asks.

“It depends. After a session like today, I’ll get waves of it for a while. And then it’ll ebb. But it always comes back.” A migraine is starting to bloom between your eyes, but you know it’s the least of your problems tonight.

His grip tightens on the steering wheel. Strangely, for a moment, he seems nervous. “Can you... can you talk to the dead?”

You shake your head. “No. Sorry. I wish I could.”

He drives silently for a while. For a weird moment, it almost seems peaceful. He drives on the highway, and then exits onto an off ramp, into an industrial district. Hoffman drives in silence with you for the better part of half an hour. Then, finally, he pulls off beside an old mill of some kind, one that looks like it shut down years ago.

There is not a soul around. If you were to start screaming now, at the top of your lungs, you doubt anyone would hear you. Hoffman unbuckles his seat belt, and turns to face you.

“Are you going to murder me?” You ask, voice shaking.

“Now why would I do that?” There’s a note of false concern in his voice, which is offset by the smug smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. He wants you to say it out loud.

Right now, you’re feeling helpless.

“Alright. Alright. Yes, I think- I don’t know what I saw. Maybe it was you, maybe it was someone else. Bringing me out here instead of home isn’t a good look for you, you know,” you ramble nervously. He watches you.

“You think I’m the accomplice," he confirms, "Explains why you were so jumpy after,” Hoffman leans across the middle console, and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. It would feel intimate, if it wasn’t overtly threatening.

“Which brings me back to my question. Did you bring me out here to kill me?,” you size up the windows as you speak, wondering if you could break them, if you had to. Can you roll them down? Nope, locked too, just like the door.

“You’re the psychic.” He replies, before he says, “I’ve still got questions that you might be able to help me with. You’re too useful. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I won’t lie to you, so don’t lie to me, either,” you snap back at him. He actually laughs at that, incredulous.

“You’re really something,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Listen. Your... theories. You tell them to me, and only me. You don’t tell Kerry, you don’t tell Rigg. You wouldn’t want to put them in danger, would you? No one would believe you anyway, but let’s not take any chances.” Hoffman leans into your space again, using his size to intimidate you. He’s only inches from you, caging you entirely back against the passenger side car door.

You nod your head in acquiescence. He hums in approval.

“Good. You tell Kerry about your theories, and it doesn’t end well for anyone, get it? Can you 'sense' that?”

And you can. You know he will kill you if he has to. He’ll kill you, Kerry, your family, anyone that gets in his way or threatens his cover. You get the horrible, hopeless sense that nothing would be able to stop him if he wanted you dead.

“Give me your phone.” You pass him your flip phone, still feeling dizzy with adrenaline and a pulse of relief- that he’s not going to kill you. At least not tonight. Probably.

After a few moments, he passes your phone back to you, leaning back into your space. A contact has been added under the name Mark.

“Now I wanna hear you say it. You’re not going to tell anyone else.,” pressed back against the car door, you almost feel like you can’t breathe, but you nod quickly. Sickeningly, your face is flushed from the proximity.

“I won’t tell anyone else what I see about the Jigsaw murders. Just you,” you breathe, and he nods, touching your neck for a brief moment before he lets go and leans back, sitting back in the driver’s seat and looking you over.

“Before I take you home. Is there anything else you picked up that you haven’t told me about?”

“Mostly just feelings. Power, rage, loss, pain. Things like that. The, um, pig mask,” you pause, floundering, worried that continuing will piss him off. But he catches it- of course he does- and raises an eyebrow.

“And?”

“And I’m- I’m sorry about your sister.”

He sits back like you’ve knocked the breath out of him. He looks truly stunned, staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. You quickly add, “I don’t know anything about what happened. Just uh, just that sentence. And the feeling of... of a crushing loss.”

“Right,” he shakes his head, starting the car back up. He nods to himself, like he’s still processing what you’ve said. “Fuckin'... wow."

"Yeah, the intuition doesn't pull any punches," You mumble in return. He glances at you in surprise, and you quietly curse your inability to shut the fuck up.

Reluctantly, you give him your address, and he starts to drive back to the city. Within another half an hour, you’re pulling into the driveway of your apartment building, anxious to be out of the car and into your home.

“Now I know where you live. Got it?” He murmurs. You nod again, mutely. As you exit the car, Mark stops you.

“I’ll be in touch,” he says, before you scamper into your building.

NEXT CHAPTER

#im so sorry for putting this in the tags again #mark hoffman #slasher fic #saw franchise #slasher x reader #saw movies #sawposting #costas mandylor #detective hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman x oc #my writing

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yourbucky084 · 2 years

Text

temptation

description: endless flirting. lingering touches. comments that were just a little more than friendly. you like matt murdock, and he likes you. who knew all you needed was a hotel mishap to bring you together (aka, there's only one bed smut)

word count: 8.4k EXACTLY!!

a/n: this was a fan favorite before the tumblr machine deleted me, so I felt it was only right if it was my first fic reposted! this one is smutty, tension filled, and surprisingly also really sweet. please enjoy whores -shannon <3

“Matt, it’s getting close to-” You began, walking into his office. You stopped when you saw he was on the phone, but he beckoned you anyway. He held up one finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet, and sent a quick smile your way. You smiled too, of course.

These days it seemed like everything Matt did made you smile. Every joke, every compliment, even every brush of skin. The most mundane things, even him simply saying your name, sent shivers down your spine. Eventually you realized it was him that made you smile, not the things he did.

Him.

You had been the secretary for Nelson and Murdock a few months now, ever since Karen started working for The Bulletin full time. It was a great job, the pay was decent for the work, and the staff, albeit only two other people, was fantastic. You all got along great, no hiccups, easy conversation; you were already close friends. Everything was effortless, easy…until a few weeks ago.

Foggy had started making jokes about you and Matt the last couple of weeks, mumbles of “get a room already” and comments about Matt’s so-called radar for beautiful women. At first, you brushed them off as what you thought they were: jokes. But, the last couple of days, Matt had gotten… defensive. Telling Foggy to stop, telling you to ignore him, or just leaving the room all together.

The way you saw it, there were two reasons Matt was acting so peculiar. He either really liked you, and the jokes put pressure on him to confess, or he didn’t like you at all, and the jokes made him uncomfortable. When the second option made you want to break down, you knew you were in deep. And, honestly, who wouldn’t be. He was Matthew Murdock, smart as a whip and heart of gold. Didn’t hurt that he was incredibly attractive, too. Something about that day old stubble and dimples made your knees buckle; his smile seemed endless. He was also suspiciously very well built; you had asked Foggy about it a few weeks ago and he had brushed you off, saying Matt was “just like that.” But you knew better, knew that foggy was hiding something. Matt had walls up, guarded himself fiercely, never letting anyone all the way in. He had to have a secret, a big one too. Foggy knew, and Karen did too; you could hear it in the way they talked. Whispers about mistakes and matryrs. Whatever it was, it was big, you could feel it. Somehow, however, that made him even more appealing. A dangerous secret only added to his allure. Along with his big heart, helping everyone he could, and that endless, cocky charm.

He was insatiable.

So, naturally, you fell for him.

Hard.

At the realization of your own feelings towards him, things became… different around the office. You tried to suppress your feelings, of course, but when you spent eight hours a day three feet away from each other, it was hard. Definitely easier said than done. And it didn’t help that Matt had what you would call a ‘naturally flirtatious” personality. The comments and banter between you two were getting noticed by Foggy, whose own comments increased tenfold. The tension was rising between you and Matt for sure.

You just didn’t know when it would explode.

Or if it even should.

Or if it even could. Matt flirted with everyone, of course, even Karen and Josie from the bar. Were his comments and compliments unique to you? Did he like you? Or was he just like that, the ever charming, ever incredible Matt Murdock? To top things off, he was your boss. He signed your paychecks, gave you assignments, and was the reason you had a job right now. If you two got together, what would happen in the office? God forbid, if it didn’t work out, would he fire you? You liked your job. You needed your job.

Was Matt Murdock worth it? Was he worth the risk?

One look at his smile as he hung up the phone, and you knew the answer:

Matt Murdock was your ultimate temptation.

“Sorry about that,” Matt began as soon as the phone was on the receiver, but you cut him off.

“Oh please, Matthew. Apologizing for doing your job? Forever the catholic, always the guilt,” You chided, causing him to chuckle.

“How do you always do that?” He asked, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

“Do what?”

“Get me. Understand me, I mean,” you shrugged in response, unsure of what to say. After a beat of silence, you realized your mistake.

“Oh my god, I-”

“You just shrugged, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. Sorry.”

“I thought we covered that apologizing wasn’t necessary, Miss y/l/n?” You rolled your eyes in response, causing Matt to chuckle.

“How did you even know I rolled my eyes?”

“Easy guess,” he said, but it was a lie. Matt always knew when you rolled your eyes, you flared your nostrils just the slightest bit. He had already memorized the tell tale signs of all your emotions: you bit the inside of your mouth when you were anxious, your cheeks flushed when happy, and you picked at your fingertips when you were about to cry. It was something he did with all his girlfriends, easy to be a good boyfriend if you knew exactly how you felt.

You weren’t his girlfriend, though. You wouldn’t ever be, if he had anything to say about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you, of course. God, did he want you. You were, without a doubt, the most beautiful person he’d ever come across. He’d had Foggy describe you to him way too many times, tried his best to sort through the red fire haze, to finally memorize what you looked like. Matt couldn’t find words to describe your beauty, but he didn’t need to. He was confident you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Not only that, you were good. He opened this law firm to help people, the underdogs. But you, you had been doing that your whole life. Girl scouts, service groups, service projects, head of community service club in high school and college; you were the most selfless person in Hell’s Kitchen, he was sure of it. You always carried an extra twenty dollar bill to give to someone on the street, had a mini cooler outside your apartment stocked full with sandwiches and water, and knew every client Nelson and Murdock had like the back of your hand. You were a better catholic than him by miles, and you weren’t even catholic.

You cared about people with your whole heart; it ended up getting you in less than ideal situations all the time. You told Matt the other day that you really didn’t care what happened to you at the end of the day, if you helped someone, anyone, it was worth it. And that’s when he knew you were the one. You were good, truly good, the kind of good Hell’s Kitchen needed. He wouldn’t let you lose that good because of him. He’s brought endless pain to so many good people, to Foggy, to Karen, to Maggie, and endless others.

You wouldn’t be one of them.

“So, um, I wanted to ask what time we should leave tonight? For the airport?”

“We leave tonight?” Matt had completely forgotten. An old friend of his mother’s in Boston was in some legal trouble, Maggie wouldn’t have asked unless it was serious. Matt agreed to represent her, assuming Foggy would come too. But Foggy was meeting Marci’s parents this weekend. Karen was working on a story for The Bulletin that was time sensitive, meaning she couldn’t get away.

And of course you, with the heart of gold, offered to go with him. You insisted actually, the thought of Matt traveling alone made your heart race.

“Yes… our flight leaves at six pm, we land in Boston around seven. The hearing is tomorrow at eight,” You said, checking your phone to make sure all the times were correct.

“And what time is it now?”

“Almost four. I figured you might have forgotten, that’s why I came in here.”

“Shoot, we probably should get going then,” Matt said, standing up.

“I’ll…. I’ll send the last few faxes then. Split a cab to the airport?”

“On me,” Matt smiled. He listened to the uptick of your heart rate as you walked away, relishing in the sound as he packed up. He was in deep, deeper than he thought. How the hell was he supposed to be alone with you for hours, only an arm rest separating you two?

This was going to be one hell of a trip.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“I’m never visiting Boston again,” you remarked as you got out of the car, trying to calm your breathing. The plane ride from New York was fine, just a little… tension filled. Matt’s thigh was pressed against yours the whole way, his breath would fan down your neck when he wanted to ask for your peanuts. Your hand skimmed his one too many times for it to be an accident, too. You were tired, tired of all this dancing around, of all the moments you and Matt shared with no conclusion. You needed time to clear your head of the Matt induced fog, time to unpack everything on the plane. You were grateful that you two went immediately to the hotel from the airport, although the ride there was nerve wracking as all hell. Time alone was just what the doctor ordered.

“And I thought New Yorkers were bad drivers,” Matt said as he grabbed the bags from the driver, tipping him graciously. You held your arm out for him and he took it, letting you guide him through the lobby. Matt let people guide him all the time, but he especially loved when you did it. You held your head higher, your pulse slowed. You felt safer with him by your side, even though he was completely blind to your knowledge. He made you feel safer, just him, no heightened senses or Daredevil suit. You liked him for him, and that made his own heart skip a beat.

You lead the both of them to the receptionist desk, where you gave the girl working the name of the reservation.

“It should be under Nelson and Murdock, two rooms” you said with a smile. Matt listened as her nails clacked on the keyboard. He heard her pulse quickened a bit as she found and checked the reservation; something was wrong.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, but something went wrong in our system when you booked the rooms. One of your other rooms is already booked,” her voice was strained, but her pulse was steady. She was telling the truth.

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“There’s only one room under your reservation.” Matt heard your teeth grind against each the flesh of your mouth, heard you pick at the skin around your fingernails. You were nervous, the prospect of sharing a room with him made you scared.

You were terrified, actually. There was no way you could share a room with Matt for the night and not jump his bones. He had already gotten you all riled up on the plane ride here. Another sincere compliment, or brush of skin, you were certain your body would take over and kiss him right then and there. And you didn’t know yet, if that was what you wanted. Or what Matt wanted. Or anything, really. You just knew that you couldn’t spend another few hours with Matt without making a move.

“I’m sure we can just book another room, right?” Matt flashed the receptionist one of his signature charming smiles, making a point to hold his cane where it was visible. People took pity on him every day because of his disability, might as well use it to his advantage.

“Normally, Sir, of course. But there’s this skating competition in town, we’re fully booked til next week. I’m so sorry, I don’t know-”

“It’s no big deal, really. Not your fault at all, ok? We’ll be fine with the one room, really.” You said, trying to calm the receptionist down. You sensed she was panicked, scared you were going to lash out. So, despite your better judgement, despite the voice of reason in your head screaming no, you told her it was ok.

You would share a room with Matt.

“There’s two beds though, right?” Matt asked, trying to ease your nerves and his own. He didn’t think he could make it through the night with you next to him and not make a move. You were the ultimate temptation, his personal forbidden fruit. How was he supposed to resist when you would be inches away? He tried his best not to think about your body heat next to him, soft skin against his. He tried not to picture you in your pajamas, probably some skimpy little sleep shorts, revealing everything. He tried not to think about you drifting over to him in your sleep, leg crossing over his. He tried not to think about your soft lips, adored with watermelon flavored chapstick, just begging to be kissed. He tried not to think about any of it.

He failed.

“I’m sorry Sir, but just the one queen. I can offer you unlimited free access to the minibar, however. Free breakfast, too. I can-”

“Free breakfast would be great. Thank you,” You smiled at the receptionist as you finished getting the room key. You didn’t want to inconvenience her, or make her nervous. Yet again, you put everyone else first. Even in this situation, when Matt knew you were nervous, you disregarded your own feelings to make someone else feel better, to help someone else.

Matt wanted you now more than ever.

You lead the both of you in silence to the elevators, unsure of what to say. What was there to say, really? You liked Matt. You thought he might have liked you too. But he asked for two beds, jaw clenched when he did it. Did he not want to share a bed with you at all? Or did the prospect make him nervous too? Was he exhibiting restraint, or disdain? You couldn’t tell.

Matt heard your pulse quicken, your mind was probably racing. As much as he didn’t want to hurt you, didn’t want you in his life because he knew he’d ruin yours, he hated seeing you in pain. He took your hand in his, thumb skimming over your skin.

“We’ll be ok, ok? It’s just for the night. You can take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor-”

“Don’t be silly, Matt. We can share. We’ll be fine, we’re adults, right? Nothing wrong with two adults sharing a bed,” You said, trying to rationalize the situation to yourself too. The last part came out wrong, an innuendo when left up to interpretation. Without missing a beat, Matt replied.

“Nothing wrong with that at all.”

Before you could ask what he meant, if he was thinking the same thing you were, the elevator dinged. Matt wrapped his arm around yours, and you gasped at the contact. He leaned in, his lips only inches away from your ear, and whispered.

“Lead the way.”

You did your best to hide the effect Matt had on you as you led him down the hallway. You slowed your breath, tried not to focus on Matt’s warmth at your side. You rambled on about the decor, something about modernization ruining charming. You thought you were doing a decent job of concealing your affection, to be honest.

But Matt would beg to differ.

Your whole body was covered in goosebumps, even your face. Your heart was beating a million miles a minute, despite the casual tone of your voice. He smiled to himself at the effect he had on you, he loved how sensitive you were. He couldn’t help but wonder if that would carry over to more… intimate areas of your life. He tried to not think about you whimpering under him, shivering and moaning at every touch.

No.

He needed to stop.

It wasn’t right, especially when he knew he couldn’t take it further. He needed to stop teasing, stop flirting. It wasn’t fair to you, leading you on like this. You didn’t deserve this. You deserved better. Better than him, for sure. Compared to you, he was basically the devil. He was evil, deep down, something sinister lurked inside him. But you, you were purely good: an angel in his eyes. He had to protect you from himself. He vowed silently, as you unlocked the door with the card, he’d stop the flirting. He’d be civil, but nothing more. Cold, even, if that was what it took.

He had to protect you from himself.

“Here we are,” You said in a sing-songy voice, guiding Matt in the room and placing the bags on the floor.

“Um, the bed is on the wall to your left, the bathroom’s right behind us,” Matt followed your directions, using his cane to find the bed and sit down. It was small, smaller than his bed at home for sure. Not much room to spread out, certainly not enough for two people. You’d be sleeping closer than he thought.

You hummed to yourself as you unpacked your bag, trying to find your pajamas. You wanted to get to bed early, exhausted from the plane ride. Plus, you thought if you and Matt had less time to talk, there’d be less chance of… something happening. Half of you wanted something to happen, to jump on the bed right now and kiss that stupid smirk of his face. Half of you wanted to run downstairs and beg for another room. So, you decided just getting to bed would be better.

However, once you got to the bottom of your suitcase, there were no pjs to be found. You rummaged through your clothes again, thinking maybe somehow they got stuck on top. But nothing. They weren't there.

“Something wrong?” Matt asked. He had been listening to the sound your voice, the soft song under your breath was a comfort to him despite all the noise outside and within the hotel. Sometimes, the world got a little too loud, too much. And, since he wasn’t in his apartment, he didn’t have his normal comforts. His cement walls dulled the noise just enough. But these walls were thin. He didn’t have anything to keep him grounded. Except you. But, when you stopped singing, and started breathing a bit quicker, Matt knew something was off.

“I swear I packed them this morning, but they’re not here,” you sounded defeated as you rummaged through your clothes.

“What? What’s not there?”

“My pajamas. I was gonna change, pencil skirts aren’t exactly the epitome of comfort,” you said as you walked closer to the bed.

“Do you wanna wear mine?” Matt blurted out without thinking. He regretted it immediately, but he couldn’t take it back. The thought of you in his clothing, his smell mixed with yours, made him shutter. It would be a painful night for him for sure, but he’d do anything for your comfort.

“What?”

“I… uh… normally sleep shirtless,” he paused when he heard your intake of breath.

“But, I… uh… brought an extra shirt. In case I wanted to go to the gym, or something. You could..wear it? If you wanted?”

When you didn’t answer, and your heart raced, Matt thought he had made a mistake.

“Or not, if you’re uncomfortable, I-” You cut him off. You weren’t uncomfortable, not at all. You were aroused. The thought of Matt, practically naked next to you all night… well that was something out of a dream.

“No! No. I’d really appreciate that, Matt. Thank you,” you said as your pulse slowed, causing Matt to smile. You weren’t lying, and you were comfortable. As long as you were ok, that’s all Matt needed to hear.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. If you would just hand me my bag,” You grabbed Matt’s bag off the floor and handed it to him. He felt for the zipper and opened it, finding one of his old “Fogwell’s Gym” shirts and handing it to you. Your fingers brushed his as you took the shirt, muttering another soft thank you.

Before Matt could answer back, you unzipped your skirt, stepping out of the tight fabric and throwing it back in your bag. You figured there was no harm, no foul, to getting changed out in the open. The bathroom was cramped, and Matt was blind. He’d have no way of knowing.

The second you unbuttoned your blouse, however, the room was filled with your scent. Bare skin had a distinct smell, and Matt could certainly smell yours. It was intoxicating, the way it filled the room. Hints of lavender, something sweeter in your shampoo. He couldn’t help but clench his hands at his side. Then, he heard the signature snap of a bra, causing his jaw to twitch. You were here, naked and perfect, all for him. He couldn’t help but stand up as you threw on his shirt, his scent now mixed with yours. It was overwhelming, all too much to handle.

He stood up abruptly, grabbing his suitcase off the bed.

“I’m… gonna go to the bathroom,” he said as he hurried away, locking the bathroom door behind him.

Now what was that about?

You thought as you flopped on the bed, relishing in Matt’s scent. His t-shirt smelled like him; you couldn’t help but breathe in deeply and sigh. He just smelled so good, so comforting. Like home. He had given you his t-shirt. Something about that fact felt so… right. You wanted to wear more of his t-shirts, wanted to be enveloped in his scent.

You wanted him.

What was the harm in flirting, anyways? You couldn’t seem to remember any of your reasons for not wanting to be with Matt, all forgotten as soon as you put his t-shirt on. Maybe you should make a move on Matt. That way, at least, you’d know if he felt the same. And if he didn’t, you could move on.

But if he did…

Well, you had the room to yourselves.

You sauntered over to the mini bar, humming the same tune as before. You figured you’d fix you and Matt a drink, wind down. You’d sit on the bed, maybe you’d edge closer. Maybe you’d even kiss. You felt giddy as you poured Matt some whiskey, not Macallan, but it would do. All your fears from earlier were gone, all you knew was one thing. You wanted Matt.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bathroom door, Matt was trying to convince himself he didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t want you. He desperately tried to remember the vow he made earlier: no flirting. He couldn’t give in, no matter what you said or did. He wanted to protect everyone from evil, and for you, evil was him. He just had to hold it together for a few more hours. He slipped on a pair of sweatpants, leaving his shirt and tie in the bathroom. He opened the door to something completely unexpected.

You were twirling around, holding two drinks and humming to yourself. Matt could feel the slight breeze in the air, taste the alcohol in the air, and hear the tune under your breath.

You were in his shirt. Holding his favorite drink. Humming one of his favorite songs.

Like you were his.

All of a sudden, his vow was thrown out the window. What’s the harm in flirting, anyway? You were clearly flirting yourself, it would be rude of him not to flirt back. He figured as long as he didn’t kiss you, as long as he didn’t give in to temptation, he’d be fine.

As long as he didn’t give in.

Matt cleared his throat, breaking up your own personal dance party. You turned around to Matt, shirtless, sweatpants low on his hips. It took everything in you not to drop the glasses in shock. He was built, more fit than you’d ever thought. His chest was also riddled with scars, something you’d be sure to ask about later. But it didn’t matter right now, all that did was the sight in front of you. Six pack, perfect pecs, muscles carved by god himself down his arms. You couldn’t help yourself as you gulped, warmth spreading through your entire body. You could feel yourself getting wet, just at the sight of him.

Matt could feel it, too. Your body was screaming all the tell tale signs of arousal: your pupils were dilated, blood rushed through your body, particularly down…there. Hell, he could smell the slick between your thighs.

Not giving in to temptation would be harder than he thought.

“I… uh… thought we’d take advantage of the minibar. She did say it was on the house,” you put down your drink and grabbed Matt’s hand. You held it, just for a moment, before wrapping it around the glass.

“On the house, huh,” He brought the glass up to his lips, taking a small swig. Maybe he sipped a little slower than normal. Maybe he licked his lips before bringing the glass back down, savoring in the taste. It was just a little flirting, anyway.

As long as he didn’t go further.

You sauntered over to the bed, sitting on the edge while taking a sip from your glass. Matt soon joined you, sitting close enough for your legs to touch. His mind floated back to a conversation on the plane, when you two were sitting in a similar position to this. He had told you about the first and only time Foggy let him touch his face. He recalled the way you laughed when he told you the story, but also your curiosity at the situation. You kept something to yourself during that conversation, and Matt couldn’t figure out what until this moment.

You probably wanted him to touch your face.

And, again, he figured, what was the harm? It wasn’t even flirting, really. He had touched lots of people’s faces. When it was with women, though, it usually ended in sex. He figured as long as it didn’t end like that, he’d be fine.

As long as he didn’t go further.

“I was wondering…” Matt began, feeling your breath hitch in your throat as he spoke.

“I can usually figure out a rough idea of what someone looks like, put the pieces together like a puzzle,” he felt you nod at his side.

“But in order for me to really know, I have to touch their face. Some blind people hate doing it, or refuse to do it at all. But it helps me, at least, connect to the person. I just need a few minutes to feel out their features,”

“Like you did with Foggy,” you said as you recalled their conversation on the plane. He felt your heart rate increase with anticipation; you knew what he was going to ask.

“Yeah. And I was wondering… maybe I could touch yours? If you were ok with it, I mean, I know it’s weird-”

“I think it’s great, Matt. Sweet of you to even ask, really. I’d love to,” Matt knew you were smiling, your tone was as cheery as ever. He felt you shift on the bed, turning so you were facing him. He did the same. Your legs were now mixed together, his clothed, yours bare. He took a bold move, placing his hand atop your thigh. It was only half covered by his shirt, he could feel your smooth skin under his palm. He didn’t dare move it up, not right now.

“So… what do I do?” You giggled, causing Matt to smile. He loved the sound of your laugh.

“Could you just guide my hands up? To the top of your head. Then I’ll work my way down,” You took Matt’s hands in yours, lifting them up slowly and guiding them to the top of your head. You took a deep breath and dropped his hands, placing your own on his lap. You didn’t exactly know why you were so nervous. I mean, Matt being shirtless in front of you definitely had something to do with it. But you were also scared that Matt wouldn’t like what he felt. You knew it was impossible, Matt not liking you just because of what he felt. But you couldn’t help it.

Slowly, you felt Matt’s hands move down your head, onto your face. He started with your eyebrows, tracing each one with his finger. He moved down to your nose, tracing it’s outline and even booping the tip. That earned a laugh from you, and so Matt did it twice. His fingertips then moved across your eyes, outlining their shape and fluttering against your eyelashes. His fingers glided down your cheeks, painfully slow, as if to commit the skin to memory.

Then he reached your lips.

Soft. That was the only word that came to mind for Matt. He traced the outline of your cupid's bow, dipping a finger down and parting your lips, slowly. Before you could stop yourself, before Matt could pull away, you darted your tongue out, and circled his fingertip. You heard Matt shutter and watched as his jaw clenched, but he didn’t turn away. Instead, his free hand, the one not in your mouth, cradled your jaw. Maybe even a little lower than just your jaw, wrapping tightly around your throat.

He couldn’t help it, not when your tongue felt so good around his finger. It was a dirty move for sure, but it confirmed that you wanted this too. His mind raced with all the things he wanted to try, all the things he wanted to do. He had to have you, he couldn’t resist any longer. You were insatiable.

He had to give in to temptation.

Before he could lean in to the kiss, however, your phone alarm went off. You jumped up scrambled to find the device and turn it off. You cursed yourself for setting a bedtime alarm, wanting to make sure you got enough sleep for the early start tomorrow. You thought you’d be alone, of course. Not sharing a room with your boss, about to kiss.

“What was that?” Matt asked, standing up and placing the glass down on the dresser. He could sense your change in mood.

“I set an alarm this morning to make sure I got enough sleep. We have to be at the courthouse pretty early,” You walked back over to Matt, but he was already walking toward the bed. The alarm was like a shock to his senses. What was he doing? He was about to kiss you, when he told himself he shouldn’t. He told himself he wasn’t gonna go all the way. He liked you of course, wanted to be with you more than anything. But he wouldn’t let himself. Couldn’t. He needed to stop the moment you two were having immediately.

“I guess we should probably get to bed, then,” He said as he undid the covers on one side of the bed.

“We don’t have to-”

“We should, y/n.”

He cursed himself for saying that. He could sense the immediate drop of your face, the slump of your shoulders. He didn’t mean it. He would give anything to grab his glass, wrap his arm around your waist, and join you in your singing. But he couldn’t.

“O-oh… ok,” You walked over to your side of the bed, fishing your phone charger out of your bag as you walked by. Matt was already under the covers, his glasses on the bedside table. You had only seen him without them a few times, on the occasional late night at the office. You knew he wore them to make other people feel better, he had told you how some people found his eyes… uncomfortable. You, however, only found them beautiful. His eyes were warm, rich, homey, just like him.

You joined him under the covers, trying not to touch him as you shifted to get comfortable. You could feel the warmth radiating off his chest, beckoning you in. You already started to feel sleepy, between Matt’s warmth and his scent from his t-shirt. You wanted to cuddle in, fall asleep on his chest. But, his refusal earlier was pretty clear. No matter how he felt about you, he clearly didn’t want to take things further tonight.

Or so you thought.

It took everything in him not to reach out to you and pull you flush against his chest as you got comfortable. He knew you’d be more comfortable on him. He had been this close to you before, just a few hours ago, on the plane. But then, you had clothes to separate you too. Now, nothing. You were in his shirt, only underwear underneath; not even a bra. He could stretch his hands out right now, rake up your his shirt, and-

No.

He needed to stop.

“Good night, y/n,” He said as he rolled away from you.

“G’night, Matty,” you mumbled as you turned over. Your breathing was already slowing, you were going to fall asleep.

Matt did a silent cheer in his head, he’d done it. You were asleep, and now he only had to get through the morning. He could finally relax, knowing now there was no chance of getting together, at least for the night.

Or so he thought.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Warm.

Soft.

Those were the first two thoughts in Matt’s brain as he woke up. He was enveloped in warmth and softness, still in a dream. He was holding you, arm around your waist, as your legs were wrapped around his thigh.

This had to be a dream, right?

Wrong.

He ran his fingers up and down your back, covered by the fabric of his shirt. This was real, he was awake. It wasn’t a dream. He was holding you. It was still night time, too. The hotel was too quiet for it to be anything but. Everyone was asleep.

He moved his arm up, fully prepared to move you off. But you whimpered in your sleep, tightening your grip on his shoulder.

How could he move you off now? When you so clearly wanted to stay, still in a dream. He decided, instead, to place his hands by his side and let you sleep. As long as he didn’t cuddle back, it was fine. He told himself it was fine. He would just will himself back to sleep, silently relishing in your warmth. Everything would be fine, he just had to get back to sleep.

You whimpered again, shifting your legs. You were a noisier sleeper than he originally thought. He heard you mumble something, too jumbled for him to figure out what. Matt felt something wet on his thigh, maybe sweat? He tried to focus on the location, figure out where it was coming from. He soon realized it was right where you were slotted, legs split on his thigh. It wasn’t sweat: it was your slick.

To confirm his suspicions, you bucked your hips, still in a dream. You move faster, grinding yourself up and down his thigh. You were getting yourself off. He scanned your body, trying to figure out if you were awake, if you were doing it on purpose. But, your heartbeat was slow, breathing even. You were asleep, still dreaming. And dreaming about sex, aparently.

“Matty…” You moaned, causing Matt’s hands to wrap around your back. He couldn’t help it, not when you said his name like that. Not only were you getting yourself off on his thigh, you were getting yourself off to him. He was the one making you whimper like this, his thigh was bringing you the friction you needed. You whimpered again, as if to confirm what he was thinking. He felt his cock twitch at your voice, already hard from the slight friction of your legs. He could move you over his crotch so easily, direct you to grind down on him. He could pull down his pants, move your underwear aside, and slot himself in you so easily.

But he shouldn’t, he reminded himself. Couldn’t. This was wrong, you were asleep. Even though he knew how you felt, even though he knew you wanted him, this was wrong. I mean, seriously, what was he doing? You were asleep. He needed to move you off him, needed to sleep on the floor. This wasn’t right, it was beyond wrong.

His name fell from your lips again, though, a sweet cry of pleasure, and something snapped within him. He didn’t care if he was bad for you. He didn’t care if he would ruin you, or hurt you eventually. Not right now, no. All his worries, all his fears fell away. All he could taste, touch, feel, or smell was you.

He had to have you.

He had to give in to temptation.

All of the sudden, Matt heard your heart race. Your eyes fluttered open, confused to see Matt so close. You were just dreaming about him, of course. So why was he so close? Why wasn’t he on the other side of the bed? You soon realized your legs were on his thigh, arms around his shoulders. You were soaking wet too, your arousal leaking onto his thigh. Your dream wasn’t a dream. You were actually using his thigh to get you off.

You panicked and began to move off him, but his arms wrapped around your back kept you flush against him.

“Who told you to stop?” Matt rumbled, voice still filled with sleep. His tone was all low and grovely, sending shocks straight to you core.

“Matt…” you whispered as his hands moved to your hips, slowly shifting you off his thigh and onto his lap. He shifted himself up on the bed and pulled you flush across your chest. Your lips were only inches apart now. You couldn’t really see his face, the only light in the room was the sliver from between the curtains. All you could see was the outline of his face, his lips in front of yours.

“You want this?” His thumbs rubbed small circles on your thighs, an invitation to say no. Despite his position, despite his wanting to take charge, he was giving you an out.

And that’s when you knew you were in.

You didn’t even answer him, just brought your hands to the back of his head and smashed his lips against yours. Even though it had been a few hours, you could still taste the whiskey on his tongue. His kisses were fiery, open mouth, and passionate; it was all too much and not enough at the same time. You began rocking your hips again, grinding your core down on his crotch. He was hard beneath you, his cock slotting right between your thighs through the fabric. The contact caused you both to groan; Matt’s grip on your hips tightened, bringing you down on him harder. You moved your hips faster, breaking the kiss and burying your head on Matt’s shoulder.

“Thaaat’s it, take what you need, pretty girl,” Matt murmured in the darkness. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d only kissed you once, but he knew he’d need to taste you for the rest of his life. Your mouth was so incredibly warm, so incredibly sweet. Just like you. In the back of his mind, his conscience was screaming at him to stop. But he didn’t care. He had held back for so long, refused to give in to temptation for as long as he could manage. But he was weak. He couldn’t do it anymore.

The heart wanted what it wanted, and his heart wanted you.

“Need you, Matty,” you said as you picked up your head, resting your forehead on his. His fingers found the edge of your(cross out) his shirt, tugging just slightly so you’d feel the movement. He was asking for your permission, you thought. How sweet. You nodded against his head and he pulled the fabric up, throwing it somewhere across the room. At the scent of your newly exposed skin, Matt groaned. He heard the blood rush to your nipples, making them peak. He took your breasts in his hands, feeling the weight and soft skin. His thumbs brushed your nipples, causing you to arch your back into his touch.

“Matty…” You groaned as he began to kiss down your neck, sloppily and slowly. He was careful not to suck too hard on your neck, afraid of leaving visible marks you’d have to cover tomorrow for the hearing. But once he got to your collarbones, the parts your shirts would cover, well, that was free reign. You couldn’t help but buck your hips as he left his mark on you, littering your collarbones and chest in light purple bruises. He licked his way down to your breasts, nuzzling the soft flesh with his nose. He couldn’t get enough of your scent, it was incredible. He wrapped his mouth around your right nipple, grazing the pebbled skin with his teeth. You arched into his touch again, grinding your hips down a little harder than normal.

“Matt…” You groaned again, causing Matt to release your breast with a pop. He looked up at you as your fingers found their way in his hair. He looked beautiful like this, the soft light from outside illuminating his features just enough.

“Yes…” He teased, resting his head on your chest as he looked up.

“Said I need you,” You mumbled as you swivelled your hips against his to prove your point. Matt knew what you meant, of course. But he wanted to tease you a little further. He’s been dreaming of this moment for months, holding himself back from what he really wanted. But now that he had you, he wanted to make it last. He didn’t know if there would be another moment like this, not after you discovered the real him. He had to draw this out.

“You have me,” he answered back, nuzzling in your chest once more. But you didn’t like that answer. You were painfully wet, had been since the almost kiss before bed. You needed him, and now.

“I said… I need… you,” you said as you raked your hands down Matt’s chest, eventually finding the waistband of his sweatpants. His breath hitched as he felt your fingers slip under the fabric, knowing what was next. He sat up in anticipation, leaning against the headboard of the bed. He was going commando, just as you thought. Cocky bitch. Your hand found his cock, painfully hard against his stomach and leaking precum from the tip. He was weeping for you. You couldn’t help but take pity on him, wrapping your hands around him and stroking up.

Matt shuddered at the contact, throwing his head back in ecstasy. Your touch was incredible, he didn’t think he could ever get enough. You knew just how to work him, long, slow strokes while rubbing the tip with your thumb. He had never had sex with someone who knew immedately what he liked on the first go around. He cursed himself for holding back for so long.

Who knew forbidden fruit could be so sweet?

While you were still stroking him, Matt sat up on the bed, finding the waistband of your underwear. He didn’t pull it off yet, instead electing to run his fingers under the waistband across your skin. After a few seconds, you removed your hand from his cock, kneeling up on the bed and pulling his sweatpants down. Matt whimpered at the loss of contact, but he could sense you only a few feet away. You then took off your own underwear, throwing it across the room before hopping back on his lap. His hands immediately found your hips again, but he was surprised when you used your knees to raise yourself up. Then he realized: you were going to ride him.

“Gotta prep you first,” Matt mumbled in the darkness, grip tightening on your hips to move you off. But you held your ground, placing a hand on his chest to get his attention.

“Just want you,” You whispered in the darkness. It was true, you did just want him. You had dreamt about this for months, about what it would finally feel like to be filled with him. To have his arms wrapped around you as he pounded into you, his stubble rough against your chest. And now that that moment was in sight, well, you weren’t going to wait any longer.

“Sweetheart… let me at least eat you out a little bit. Please?” Matt tilted his bed, giving his best pout. He didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to take things slow. Make sure you were ready for him, make sure this was as amazing for you as it was for him. You were good, kind, sweet, soft. You deserved to be treated with grace.

“Matt…” You began to stroke his cock up and down your folds, coating him in your slick. His senses already kicked into overdrive at the feeling, he couldn’t imagine what it was going to be like when he was inside you.

“I-it… it’ll hurt,” he shuttered, already losing his composure as you teased your entrance with his tip. You leaned in close, as if to kiss him, but you paused just before you reached his lips. Instead, you took your free hand and grabbed his wrist, bringing his hand up to wrap around your throat.

“And who says I don’t like the pain?”

And with that, you began to sink down on him slowly, relishing in the painful stretch. Matt was right, he probably should have prepped you first. But the pain was pleasurable because it was Matt causing it. His grip tightened around your throat lightly, just enough so he could feel your pulse underneath. You both cried out in pleasure as you bottomed out, the feeling of Matt filling you too much to bear.

Before you could set the pace, however, Matt bucked his hips up into yours. Inside you, his tip brushed your cervix, causing you to gasp in pleasure. You began to move up and down slowly, intent on building the pace.

But Matt had other plans.

He removed his hand from your throat, gripping both your hips as tight as he could. He began to bounce you up and down at an insanely fast pace, intent to bring you to your peak as fast as possible. He brushed your cervix with each thrust, hitting so deep inside of you you thought you would burst. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping, your whines, and Matt’s grunts.

You had no words. No thoughts in your brain. All you could do was sit there and take it as Matt pounded into you, the pleasure clouding your thoughts. It was incredible; you had had nothing like it before.

Matt took your silence as shock, however, and decided to tease you a little more. There was still so much he wanted to try, still so much he wanted to do. But with the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing him tighter and tighter as you moved closer to your peak… he wasn’t going to last long.

“B-begging for it e-earlier,” He began, picking up the pace of his thrusts. You were getting closer and closer with each thrust, as he moved you up and down.

“B-but now y-you can’t t-take it, huh?” You couldn’t form words, all you could do was moan in response. This was incredible… Matt was incredible.

“Y-yes. You. Can,” He emphasized each word with each downstroke, your skin slapping against his. On one particular thrust, while you were flat on his lap, Matt thrusted up into you. You cried out in pleasure, his movement bringing you to your peak. Your vision went blank, mind numb. All you could think was one word:

Bliss.

As you collapsed on top of him, Matt continued to thrust until his own end. It was only a few strokes after you; with your walls squeezing him like a vice, and your lips mumbling his name, he couldn’t take it. He came with a groan, not even bothering to ask if he could come inside. Everything felt too incredible to form words. You laid on his chest for a few minutes, as his fingers rubbed soft circles on your hips and back. A silent apology for the bruises he was sure to leave. You made a silent agreement to talk it out tomorrow, whatever it was. Unbeknownst to you, you both wanted more. But you’d figure that out later. All that mattered to you right now was the sound of Matt’s heartbeat, the warmth of his arms on your back. All that mattered was him. After your breathing finally slowed, Matt carefully placed you beside him on the bed. He got up, returning after a moment with a warm washcloth. He began to clean between your thighs as he spoke.

“I didn’t mean to cum inside, I-”

“S’fine, Matty, pill. Come backkkk” you whined, reaching your arms up and out for him. He couldn’t help but smile at your adorableness as he threw the washcloth on the floor, crawling back to you slowly. Once he was in reach, you immediately snuggled into his chest, wrapping your arm around his torso. Matt wrapped both his arms around you fiercely, protecting you from the cold and the outside world.

You hummed in contentment as Matt finally settled in. Your eyes were closed, but Matt reached a hand up and brushed your hair away anyway.

“G’night, Matt,” You mumbled into his chest, already halfway into a dream.

“Good night, Sweetheart,” Matt whispered back, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He only had one thought in his head before he fell asleep.

He was so glad he gave into temptation.

FIN

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