#I just want my sensations emotions and thoughts to shut up so I can go back to living my life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

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Dirty Work 30

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: can't wait for Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson reappears as the tea steeps. You pour him a cup and bring it to him, quiet and bashful. Despite washing away the mess, your hand still feels strange.

He takes it and eyes the amber liquid. He blows over it and sips tentatively. He checks his watch.

"Alas, as much as I'd love to say and... watch," he drawls, "I do have somewhere to be."

This surprises you but you try not to let it show. You should be happy for the respite, some time to get yourself together, to try to understand all the emotions and sensations unfurling inside you. You nod and clasp your hands together.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I'll continue cleaning," you avow.

"Hm, yes, please do make sure to put away the clothing in the bedroom. My sister left them in the front room. You make make space in the closet," he explains. "As well, I've let the carpenter in, if you haven't heard--" he pauses for effect as the dull, distant hammering carries through the wall, "as it were, you've proven yourself capable. I cannot speak to my return but I trust all will be in order."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you answer.

His eyes flit up to you and his lips slant. His cheek ticks but he doesn't speak. He merely arches a brow and spins on his foot and waltzes away with his tea. You watch him, almost reverently. You never noticed how nice his shoulders look in those shirts...

✨

With the house empty, you find your work is simple. You can focus, not so distracted or paranoid by Mr. Laufeyson's looming presence. You finish your usual sweep of the first floor and carry the piles of clothing upstairs in several trips.

You're out of breath as you slide open the closet and do your best to fit in the dresses, skirts, blouses, and a few pairs of pants. The stockings and undergarments you fit in one of the drawers below the hanging jackets. You can't help but take your time as you admire all the lovely colours and fabrics.

You're struck by a thought. When he's done with you, do you get to keep these or do these only come with the work? With your peculiar arrangement. You falter and shut the closet.

You tidy up the spare hangers and try not to think. You look down at the black velvet under the white apron. You look ridiculous. You're dressed like a whore. That's what this is, isn't it?

Your skin scalds as you shove away the hangers in the hallway closet and return to the bedroom. You can't keep this on. It's like a brand marking you. You pull out a plain pair of black pants and a rosy blouse. It'll do.

You've been so caught up in everything, it's as if you've completely detached from reality. There's more than this house and Mr. Laufeyson and his orders. What about your father? Your real home. You grab your phone and stare at the screen, wanting to dial his number, but thinking better of it. You swipe away the several missed calls from the electric company.

You shake off the malaise but it trails after you. You go to the library and settle in behind the laptop. You sit and stare at the clustered excel and rub your eyes. You can't seem to focus. The dull thumping draws your attention from the glare of the screen and you go to the window, tearing open the curtains.

You peer out but can't quite see past the hedges. It's a beautiful day. You could go around, just to make sure nothing needs tending. It's a weak excuse but one you'll gladly take.

You leave the library and descend the stairs, a pair of flats in hand. Oh, you didn't even put out any water. You go to the kitchen to fetch a jug and glass. You carry it to the back door and stop to slip on the shoes.

You go out into the sunshine as your eyes slit against the bright yellow sheen. You balance the jug and glass as best you can as you follow the path down to the gazebo. The hammering is quieted but you can hear Ronan's footsteps on the wooden stairs. You blink through the sunny haze as you enter the shade and catch sight of him.

"Morning," you greet him as you stop just at the bottom. He turns to you and offers a small curve of his lips. He wears a sweat-stained tank which shows off the top his chest and his muscular arms.

"Morning, miss," he returns, "how are you?"

"Alright, you?" You ask, "I brought some water."

"Thank you," his voice rumbles from his chest as he wipes his forehead, "haven't seen you in a while."

"Uh, well, I've been busy," you chew your lip.

He comes down the steps and takes the jug and glass from you. He places them at the edge of the second step and turns back to you.

"Oh yes, I'm sure that boss of yours keeps you all tied up," he muses, "your little chipmunk friend has been looking for you, I think."

"Really?" You look around, "I... I guess I should try to get out more."

You reach back to scratch your neck. You're suddenly regretting your choice. Facing him makes you burn from more than the beaming sunlight. You're sure he can see right through you.

"I should... uh," you point weakly behind you.

"Yes, suppose you should," he sighs, "shouldn't take much longer."

"Um," you look past him, "yeah, er, looks really good."

"Mm," he hums curtly, "see ya around, then."

He turns back and hops back up the steps. You frown and dip your chin down. You walk away glumly, kicking your feet around heavily.

It's your own fault. You forget your place, you forget who and what you are. No one cares about you, they only have a use for you, and you're better off out of his way.

✨

As Ronan pulls through the gate, a toot comes from the other side. You keep the switch held down as Mr. Laufeyson’s car glides through. His return darkens the black cloud that's formed in his absence.

He gets out, light on his feet as he swiftly heads up the walk. You close the gate, put off by his brusque disregard. He's reverted to cool sternness.

You follow a few minutes after him but find no sign of him inside. You wet your lips and go upstairs. You enter the library silently and sit in front of the laptop.

There's a block in his schedule but no label. You've been staring at it for some time, trying to figure it out. You lean forward as you click through notes.

“Hard at work, I see,” he enters with the droll remark, “I see this place is spotless, and yet here you are…”

You look at him and blink.

“Mr. Laufeyson, did I miss–”

He quiets you as he reaches to touch the collar of your blouse, “I did not bid you to change.”

“I… sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I finished cleaning–”

“But I did not finish with you,” he retorts.

You blanch and stand up, shifting awkwardly between the chair and him. He catches you by the shoulders and his eyes glint. He tilts his head and you hit the armrest.

“I also told you I dealt with the carpenter, didn't I?” He snarls.

His tone slices through you and you wince, “sorry, I only–”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I only want you to do your duty. Obey, that is it.”

You snap your mouth shut and pout. You look down and bring your hand together, wringing them as you sway. A thought flickers and lights an epiphany.

“How…” you peek up, “how do you know I went out there?”

He tilts his head dangerously, “since when do you question me?”

You shrug and look away. He grabs your chin and puts your head straight, crowding you against the chair. He leans in as his green eyes bore into yours.

“As fun as you are, pet, I am not fond of disobedience. You grow careless and it is not becoming,” he sneers.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson,” you gulp, “I…” you wiggle your nose, “I will listen. I promise.” Your lower lip trembles, “what do you want me to do?”

He considers you, his jaw tensing. He lets you go gruffly and flutters his fingers as he sighs. He struts to the door as you stare dumbly. Did you say the wrong thing? How? Why is he so upset? You didn’t do anything. You’re confused.

He said he wanted you, didn’t he? So why is he walking away?

He stops in the doorway of his study. He reaches to grip the frame and lingers there. He lowers his head and turns. You look at his profile as he thinks beneath the shroud of his eyelashes. They flick up and scan over to you.

“Yes, let’s work on your obedience, pet,” he lets go of the door frame and turns as he wags his finger at you, “pull up that chair.” He goes to the other side of the desk, “here.”

You take his command eagerly. If you’re good, he won’t be mad. If you’re good, he’ll say nice things again. If you’re good, he won’t throw you away.

You struggle to lift the heavy chair but do. You scrape it just before you put it where he points. You step back, expecting him to claim the seat himself. He tuts as he steps back on his heel.

“Sit, pet.”

Again, you accept his order without a thought. You lower yourself onto the edge of the chair and await his next demand. He looks down on you, his eyes narrowing on either side of his long nose. He brings his hand up to tug on the knot of his tie just before letting it trail down to the end. His throat bobs and he exhales slowly, his chest deflating.

“Do you recall the game we played earlier?” He asks.

You nod. Of course, you remember. It’s stuck in your head.

“Well then, you may go ahead,” he gestures to his trousers.

You let your eyes descend from his face. Your gaze crawls down his long torso and to his belt. The burgundy leather looped through the brown fabric. You twitch then steady yourself. There’s something in you that’s excited, and that other part that’s terrified.

You unbuckle his belt shakily. Clumsy as you catch the little stick on several holes before you get it loose. You let the leather fall lax and fumble with the metal button, your head pounding at the air trapped in your chest. You pinch the tab of his zipper and tug it down, little by little.

He wears no briefs, as if he planned this. Maybe he did. You don’t care. None of that matters. You know what he wants. You need to think of that before you ever think about what you want. Maybe you want the same thing. That tickle between your legs seems to say so.

He shifts as he pokes out of the top of his pants. You spread his fly open as he bulges through. You push his trousers down a little further and let out a gasp. Up close, he looks even bigger than before. It’s still so new to you, so strange, a bit silly looking even.

You raise your hand and touch him. You brush your fingertips against his taut skin and he groans. You wrap your fingers around him lightly as he braces his hips, tilting his pelvis slightly.

“Tighter,” he growls.

You obey. You squeeze and pump up, then down. He shudders and lets out another groan. His fingertips curl into his hips. You keep going, the same motion, the same noise. You do it several times as you feel the tension coiling in him.

As you play with him, heat speckles in your thighs and your core sparks. You wince as Mr. Laufeyson’s hand surprises you, reaching forward to pet your cheek, then trails up over your hair. He hums and spreads his fingers behind your head.

“Pet,” he rasps, “with your mouth.”

He pulls you forward just a bit and you squeak. You look up at him, shocked. He can’t mean… that.

“Mmm, pet, please, yes, keep looking at me,” his other hand loosens your other from his dick.

He grips his base and steps closer, angling his tip against your lower lip. You try to pull back but he keeps you in place. He grasps your head tighter and crushes his swollen head to your lips. You have no choice but to open up to him.

He slips into your mouth as you close your eyes. He tisks and fists your hair, tugging.

“I said look at me.”

You snap your eyes open, peering up helplessly as he urges into you. An inch, then another, then another, until he pokes at your throat. You murmur as he eases back then in again. The wet noise of you around him curdles in your stomach yet the glow in your pelvis radiates hotter.

“Mmm, pet,” he drags you along his length slowly, rocking his hips slightly, “don’t you like to obey me?”

You hum around him and he grunts. He prods at your throat with each thrust, each time blunter than the last. Your eyes glisten as tears bobble along the brims. For more than the discomfort, but the shame. The realisation of what he’s doing to you, of what you’re letting him do.

You latch onto the arms of the chair as you slide closer to the edge of the chair. He brings his other hand to your head, gripping it firmly as he uses your mouth. Your eyes roll back behind the lids and he snarls.

“Open,” he sneers, “look at me, pet.”

You sniffle, barely able to breath as he speeds up. Your tears flow free as you look up at him and his green irises darken as his pupils dilate. He bites his lips and growls as he stills you, instead tilting his hips into you. He hits your throat again, this time breaking past the resistance.

You gag and spasm but he doesn’t relent. He holds himself there, wiggling his pelvis as his thumb stretches to touch a droplet along your cheek. He purrs and rolls back before gliding back into your slick mouth.

“When you look at that carpenter, I want you to remember this. I want you to remember who you belong to,” he hisses around pleasured grunts.

You bat your wet lashes as you sit mercilessly in his thrall. Your vision blurs as your mortification swells over and your body wracks as his intensity builds. Through it all, your mind wanders to the den and the camera hidden on the mantle. It can’t be the only one. It’s the only way he would know.

But it isn’t him who’s wrong. It’s his house, his rules, and you disobeyed him. He told you he dealt with Ronan, he told you who you belong to. You didn’t listen and this is the lesson you learn.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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user472974844 · 2 months ago

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josuke x (fem) reader smut

basically he's jorking it in front of you because you're both freaky. sorta subby josuke bc you won't catch me writing dominant folks very often!!!!

drenched in sweat, josuke writhes beneath his own touch. he never thought he'd find himself in this position: propped up against his headboard, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other covering his mouth, and you kissing his neck.

the night started innocently enough; you were only watching a horror movie with your boyfriend. neither of you are quite sure how you got to this point, but can't pay too much mind to it.

josuke's cock squelches lewdly with every stroke of his hand. his mom is sleeping in the room next to his, and he's desperately trying to contain his noises. he's never been this loud the many other times he's jerked off. it seems something about your presence, your lips on his hot skin, makes him lose any semblance of control.

josuke's abdomen twitches as his rough hand continues working his cock. he looks at your smaller, softer hands, and wishes it was you touching him. not that he'd ever ask; he'd kill himself before doing anything to make you uncomfortable.

josuke lets his head flop back against his headboard, trying to control his erratic breathing.

"how's it feel josuke?" you ask quietly. he nods furiously, looking at you with wide eyes, not trusting himself to let go of his mouth.

you giggle, pulling back from his body to look at him. he's completely naked aside from his pants and boxers bunched up at his knees. his body is flushed, sweaty, and his legs tremble ever so slightly.

"you look so fucking good right now, josuke..." you breathe, letting your hands find purchase on his ginormous shoulders, rubbing them down his chest, down his stomach, and back up again. his eyes sort of roll up into his head before he shuts them, whimpering out of his nose.

"can you speed up a little josuke?" you ask, thumb coming to one of his nipples, rubbing small circles over it. he speeds up his hand and has to let go of his mouth to gasp for air.

"oh fuck," he breathes, eyes shut tight. "c-can... mmm... um..." he turns his head away from you, blushing further.

"what's up, josuke?" you massage his shoulders gently.

"mmm... c-can you... um... fuck-- can you... kiss me m-more? my body-- i--"

you nod and trail your lips down his neck to his collarbones and he tightens his grip around his cock, shuddering.

"you're so sweet," you breathe out, caressing his face softly. his eyebrows pinch together with emotion and he lets out a shaky breath. "i love you, 'm only sweet for you..."

"i know sweet baby, you're so good to me, i love you too" you stroke his cheeks with your thumbs and kiss him softly. all you want is to make him feel cherished and wanted. you pray to god you do.

"how can i make you feel better, baby?"

"keep touching me... keep... keep touching m-my body like that... please."

you nod and run your hands down his face, to brush your fingertips along his collarbones, palms flattening as they make their way to his chest to rub up and down.

josuke sighs, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against his headboard once more. "god... fuck... i could cum just from you touching me like that..." he breathes. "'ve fucked my fist thinking about you so many fucking times, you touching me just like this..." his whispers sound almost urgent as he loses himself in the sensations.

"mmmhm... please more..." his voice comes out sounding more like a strained groan, and he bucks his hips up into his fist.

you rub one hand down to his extremely toned abdomen and rub gently, the other coming to find his nipple and gently circling it with your thumb. his body sort of jerks and he lets out a frantic, high-pitched "GNNGH--"

josuke's eyes roll up a bit as you bring your lips to his chest, leaving sloppy, wet kisses along with little pecks. his chest and large shoulders heave with each sharp intake of breath and his hand trembles. "it feels so... fucking... g-gah-- good," he whispers out shakily, his strokes becoming faster as he thrusts up into his hand. "i ca-an't-- i c-can't ohhhh fuck--" his voice is muffled again by his hand, which you gently pull away from his mouth.

you grab his face again, thumb tracing his lips. josuke whimpers softly, immediately bringing his head forward to suck it into his mouth and swirl his tongue around it, moaning quietly as he realizes how filthy he's being. funnily enough, the thought makes him throb and he imagines you insulting him a bit, calling him a filthy boy, perhaps your slut...

you rake your nails down his abdomen and he arches his back, moaning a little too loudly. you clasp a hand over his mouth and he looks at you with desperate, bright eyes, lashes fluttering as he attempts to keep his eyes open and make eye contact.

pulling your palm away from his lips, you stick your middle and ring fingers in his mouth. he eagerly complies, leaning forward again and sucking them. his hips bucks up frantically and you know what's coming.

his eyes are just barely open, fluttering as be lets out whimper after whimper, hips rutting up into his touch. he speeds up and you kiss down his chest and to his stomach. this proves to be too much for josuke, who arches his back and moans, long and deep, as cum begins to erupt from his cock. you just barely have time to move out of the way.

it begins with a couple globs seeping down the side of his cock, making him sob dryly with pleasure, to it shooting up and landing on his chest and stomach. his legs shake hard and he cries out as quietly as he can, sucking on your fingers like he needs them to live. with each rope of cum that sprays from his tip, he loses it more and more, until he's writhing and mewling loudly, head thrashing back and forth on the headboard.

finally, he pulls his cum-covered hand away from his cock, gasping repeatedly for air. "oh my... ffuck that was... so fucking good..." he breathes shakily, abdomen and cock still twitching. you give a final kiss to his nipple and pull his head into your chest. his body is completely limp as he lays against you, breathing still labored.

"you did a wonderful job josuke..." you run your fingers through his now sweaty mess of hair. "i'm so proud of you."

he sighs contentedly, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "thank you pretty girl."

#jjba #jjba smut #josuke higashikata

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mustainegf · 4 months ago

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→ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟒 —➤ 𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑮𝑬𝑻 𝑴𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑻

I huddled into the tent that night, dinner digested, and wrapped myself in blankets to try and find sleep. Outside, it was cold, so inside this tiny, flapping tent it became a home. Let the fatigue of this day wash over me.

I was nearly asleep when I heard James' approach, the soft crunch of his boots on snow, gentle rustle of the tent flap as he opened it. I lay still, tight shut eyes, not wanting to break the spell of drowsiness that had finally taken form through the last hour.

James moved quietly, filling the tiny space with his peace. I could hear him shuffling around as he got ready for bed, the rustle of blankets, the creak of his movement as he finally lay down. I remained still, pretending to be asleep, hoping to drift off without any further interruptions.

Finally, I felt his body warmth a few feet away as he settled down. The heat found me like it needed me. There was merely the sound of breathing for a second or so, mine slow and regular, his a little more labored.

Then he spoke, and again I was surprised. His voice was so low it was like a prayer.

"Clarice," he said, low, as if he’d tried the name out for the first time on his tongue. "You’re asleep, but I must say how strong you've been."

My heart entirely jumped a beat, but I was breathing evenly, I just tried to act as if I was asleep. James stirred a bit, and I felt the warmth of his hand when he reached up to gently push a lock of hair out of my face.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his tone soft enough to make my stomach flop. "I don't know what happened to you, but I promise I will. I'll find out."

A moment later, his fingers brushed against my cheek, and he bent over, setting his lips to a soft kiss to my forehead. His warm lips sent jolts from head to toe as I struggled to stay still, to keep my eyes closed.

"Get all the rest you can," he whispered. "I’ll be right here when you wake up."

He sighed then, deep and tired, and I heard him lie back down, rustling the blankets when he settled in. And so I lay there, my mind running miles with his actions, my heart hammering in my chest. The emotions he brought out in me were confusing, something deeper, something that I wasn't sure I could acknowledge just yet.

My legs felt weak, and my palms grew warm, with a fluttery sensation in my stomach that wriggled around and would not quite be shaken out. I tried to piece together all he had just said and done, his voice, softer than before, the touch of his hand, so gentle, and that sweet lingering kiss on my forehead.

I could never deny how he had made me feel, but I knew it was just crazy thoughts, he was much older, much more mature than I was. There I lay, supposing I slept, washing my face with sweet thoughts of James, his words ringing in my head.

Gradually, the warmth and the soft sound of his breathing lulled me once more into sleep. Not wanting to be awake, I tried falling asleep as I clung to the sweet thoughts of James and the protection he held out to me

The first thing I saw was fire. Dancing, angry flames flickered before me, reaching out to gobble up the wood on wood walls of a small cabin. The heat was heavy, and in my eyes, I could feel the sting of smoke as its smell seared my nostrils. I knew I had to be gone.

I crept through shadows silently, it felt as though my heart was in my throat. It was a very dark night. I felt so scared, needing to run from something.

I stood beside a gray horse. Her coat was smooth, tight, shining, her eyes wide with alarm. Angry voices sounded behind me, shouting, cursing, getting closer and closer. I had to get away, but where could I go?

The horse whinnied, picking up my stress, and I reached out to touch its mane for comfort. But before I mounted, the voices got louder again, and men surrounded me. Faces twisted in anger, which infuriated me, I did not know what I had done.

The grey horse suddenly rose, its hooves striking the air. Everything seemed so slow in my dream that I could see the powerful muscles in its legs, the flash of its hooves coming toward me. I tried to backpedal, but by the time I saw this, it was too late.

The impact was jarring. I felt the concrete beneath me, hard and cold, the pain exploding through my head as my body hit the ground. Then everything went black, and I was consumed by the void of unconsciousness.

I opened my eyes once more and found myself in the middle of the forest. The pines swayed above, and the air was the deadliest freeze I’d ever felt.

I gasped from the dream, and my heart was galloping in my chest. Flames and a grey mare, angry men, were all still burned in my brain as I bolted upright. The urge to tell someone, anyone, was overwhelming. My body was shaking, and I thrashed over onto where James lay, still asleep.

"James!" I gripped his arm, shaking him awake with desperate urgency. "James, wake up!" I pleaded with a breaking voice.

He stirred, the flickering open of his eyes as he was greeted with my panic. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I remember," I blurted out as my voice shook, words tumbling out of my mouth. "I remembered things. There was fire and a gray horse, then these angry men. I was trying to get away, and then I got hit. I think by the horse, and then I woke up in the forest and-"

James' eyes widened, and he sat up straight, his full attention on me now. "Slow down, dear. Tell me everything."

I took a deep breath to calm my shaky self. "There was a building on fire, and I was sneaking away from something. I felt scared, like I had to run. And I remember I saw this gray horse. It was so scared, just like me."

I hesitated, my hands vibrating, as I tried to glue together those jumbled fragments of that memory. "And then there were these men, so angry and shouting. I don't know why, but they were angry at me. I tried running, but I couldn't get away. The horse came up, and hit me. Everything went black, and then I woke up in the forest."

James listened intently, nodded as he absorbed every detail. When finally, I finished recounting the dream and he took my trembling hands in his large, strong ones.

"I'm so proud of you for remembering all of that," he said, his voice low and soothing, reassuring. "These memories are important."

He pulled me into his arms and held me tight to him, holding me. His hug swallowed me with warmth and something that told me he cared a lot more than I may have first thought.

I clutched to his large frame. James's hold was solid, and for the first time in a really long while, I felt like I wasn't in this by myself. He started to lay back again, still holding me tightly.

He did not let me go, and neither did I want him to. Nestling my head into his shoulder, the steady beat of his heart oozed onto my cheek exuded comfort.

His lips pressed inside the crown of my head again, it was a soft and gentle kiss, just like before. "Sleep, my dear. We will speak more in the morning."

I shut my eyes, for the first time since I woke up in that forest, I felt at peace. James was here.

I woke up the next morning warm and comfortable for the first time in weeks. Dawn's light shone through the canvas of the tent. I stirred then, realizing I still lay buried in James's arms. His hold is ever so tender.

I shifted a bit, and James's eyes fluttered open. His gaze dropped, and softening eyes regarded me directly.

"Mornin’," he rasped in a sleepy, low voice.

"Good morning," I answered, exhaling slowly as my lips flipped into a smile.

We just lay there like that for some time, bathing in that silence. The world outside seemed a million miles away. I was truly at peace, in a way that I hadn't known in quite some time.

"You slept well?" James asked, his hand reaching out to gently brush a piece of my hair from my face.

"Better than I have in a while," I admitted. "Thanks to you."

He chuckled softly, it was deep, very masculine. "I'm glad..."

I nodded. My mind wandered back to the dream, and the memories that it had stirred up. But right now, in this moment, I didn't want to dwell on the past. I wanted to enjoy the present, the warmth of James's arms, the lightness in my heart.

"Ya know," James began, already grinning, "You like to steal that blanket there, don’t ya?"

I laughed, surprised by the sound myself. It was good to laugh, to finally feel something sweet. "I do not!"

"Oh, you do," he assured me, his grin not fading. "I woke up half frozen last night because a little lady decided to take all the blankets."

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "Maybe you're just a light sleeper."

"Maybe," he agreed, still smiling. "But I'll forgive you. Just this once."

"How generous of you," I teased, but a feeling spread across my heart that had nothing to do with the warmth of the blankets or morning light.

And so, we lay there, talking and joking, and everything felt so natural, so easy. It was as if we'd known each other for much longer than a few days. I told him little snippets of my life that I could remember, and he shared bits of his in return.

He told me about his young deputy days, the mistakes he'd made, and the lessons learned. He spoke of people he'd met, about towns he visited. In his stories was much humor and wisdom.

"Sounds like you've had quite the life," I said quietly, feeling a needle in my stomach for memories of my own that just refused to come up.

"It's had its ups and downs," he replied, staring up at the tent as he flashes those teeth. "But I wouldn't trade ‘er for anything."

Later on, we had been laughing at something, James's story about some particularly stubborn mule, I think, when suddenly we just stopped. The laughter slowly faded into a full, and wide silence. James' eyes met mine, and in them was something that hadn't been there before. Yearning.

For a moment neither of us moved. Everything outside the tent just vanished until there was only the two of us. With no real warning, James suddenly leaned in closer. My heart just about lurched out of my chest as his rough lips found mine with a softness I didn’t quite think was possible.

The kiss was slow, so full of passion, and knocking the breath out of me. His lips were warm, firm to mine. I kissed him back, my hands finding his cheeks, holding tight. Time had stretched out while I lost myself in his taste.

But then, just as it had started, James jerked back. His eyes were wide and, well, shuttered again. He looked like something almost… afraid.

"I'm sorry," he muttered quickly. "I shouldn't have done that."

Just as I began to regain my composure to answer him, he sat up from the bed, reestablishing a wide distance between us. He ran a hand through his hair, the man was flustered, guilty. I already missed him holding me.

"Just forget about it," he said, very curt now. "It was a mistake."

I watched him in pain because of his sudden withdrawal. That kiss had just been everything I never knew I wanted, now it meant nothing to him.

I knew then that things would never be the same again. There was no going back to that easy comfort we'd shared just a few seconds before.

"James-" I began, but he cut me off.

"Just drop it," he dismissed, eyes still elsewhere. "We got bigger problems on our hands."

He was shutting down, going back behind walls I wasn't sure how to breach. So, I bit back what I wanted to say and nodded. "Okay..."

James nodded, still not looking at me. He stiffly left the tent without another word.

As I lay back down again, just with the taste of his lips still on mine. Fuck.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @roseydoesypoesy @metallicaloverrr @behindanotherdoor @ilovepapahet @delightfulcollectivetyphoon — comment or dm to join the taglist!

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beelmons · 2 years ago

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Experimental Pedagogy (18+)

cw: reader is a college student, oral fem receiving, mentions of economy concepts

A/N: I wrote this as a gift for our adorable @cassiemartzz , i hope this can get you going through the semester and i'm also very sorry i wrote it like a month before it ends lksjskf ily

The night had fallen earlier than you expected. You weren’t sure at what moment all that time had gone by, and it wasn’t the first time you had that sensation. Whenever you tried to study, specifically when it came to your international economy class, the minutes just seemed to slip through your fingers away from your grasp, and the information did the exact same thing away from your brain. The topic was so boring, not even a reward system was keeping you focused, nothing was motivation to swallow down endless concepts of useless themes.

Spencer, being the boy genius that he was, had long figured out perhaps mental stimuli was not enough; he made it his little project to find a way you could feel yourself getting compensated for your hard work. And he tried, and tried: money, food, baked goods, objects, trips, they all worked for a limited period of time until you lost interest. He wondered if you were simply doomed to struggle with concentration, but it pained him to see you so frustrated, so tired, he couldn’t just give up. And he didn’t. After a million tries, Spencer finally found the way to keep your brain engaged.

Physical stimuli was the answer.

“Who’s considered the father of the modern day global economy?” he asked, his face not moving to look at you.

He was settled in between your legs while you sat on your desk, a completely dark room barely illuminated by your computer screen. Your underwear had been gone for about an hour, and he had yet to reach your exposed core. He had gotten frustratingly close, though.

This is how the game went: You had two hours to study as much as you could, he would read alongside you, albeit constantly finish way faster than you, and whenever you finished a paragraph he removed a piece of clothing, or caressed a specific spot, or kissed a well-liked area. Once you were ready for a test, he would kneel before your desk to press kisses to your inner thigh as he asked questions. For every right answer, you got a kiss closer to your slit, and if you were good enough, you could have his tongue.

You only got to cum once you aced it.

“Adam Smith.” you muttered, your tongue tracing over your lips as you watched his lips get closer to your needy cunt.

“That’s my girl.” he grinned.

His hands were spreading your legs open, since once you had dared to almost crush his skull and use his tongue without completing the test. He enjoyed so, very much, but academic integrity was crucial, and he was not about to let you take advantage once again.

His lips attached to the remaining gap of skin next to your outer lips, his kiss was more of a bite, a rough suck that you were sure was going to be sore the next morning. Your back arched at the feeling, and you let out a wince.

“Name of the international trade treaty held between the US, Canada, and Mexico.” his breath hitting your skin was driving you crazy, honestly, you had never wanted him to shut up more.

“NAFTA.” you said with resolution.

Spencer's head tilted to be facing your sex, and just when you thought he was going to give you what you needed, he simply blew hot air against the area of your clit.

“That’s the old name.” he said, and you could feel absolute rage boil within you.

“USMCA!” you yelled, anger plastered all over your tone.

That emotion, however, dissipated in a blink once you finally felt the relief of his tongue. He wasn’t going to let you go that easy, though, so his muscle just trailed over your outer labia, not going into your slit or clit just yet. However, he thought you deserved your reward, and he purposely let his nose brush, although barely, against the sensitive nub.

You did try to buck your hips forward, mind you, but his hands stopped you. Once he had licked enough, leaving your skin as wet as your insides were, he spoke up again.

“This concept refers to the ability of a country to naturally produce goods for a cheaper price.” he asked against your core.

Regardless of Spencer’s stoic demeanor as a teacher, he was just a man, and the passion he felt for teaching was often overtaken by the passion he felt for your body. While you scrambled through your mind in an attempt to find the answer, his lips kept pressing soft kisses around the area, still not allowing his tongue to insert anywhere.

“Come on,” he stopped his movements to raise his gaze at you “I know you know this, say it.”

Your eyes locked with his, ever big and shiny like a puppy’s; there was a certain desperation in his eyes, and your eyebrows raised in question, after all he was supposed to be there to support you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” he rolled his eyes lightly at your judging expression “I’m dying to taste you.”

The praise disguised as a complaint gave you the final encouragement you needed, and it was like your brain sparkled with knowledge all of a sudden.

“Comparative advantage.” you said.

His face disappeared as soon as his brain fact-checked your answer; his eyes no longer locked with yours, since his tongue was entangled in your insides. You could feel him prod inside and out, taking his time to coat his tongue in your taste. Your legs threatened to close on his face again, a tight grip stopping you from it. Your hands locked on his messy hair, trying to keep him in place.

You were already overstimulated as it was, having had him down there for over an hour, teasing and caressing like you were senseless, like he didn’t have any effect on you, even though he was well aware it was the opposite. Your back was arched against your study chair, and the only sounds in the entire place were your moans mixed by the erotic slurps of his mouth.

“One last question.” once he felt you clench around him, dangerously close to your climax, he stopped his movements “What’s the main economic indicator of a country regarding the production of goods and services?”

His tongue didn’t truly leave you unattended, instead, it just moved in painfully slow circles around your clit, keeping you on edge. Your breath was awfully rushed, making it unable for you to respond right away regardless of your clear knowledge of the answer. He took a long, slow lap at your core, trailing up every inch of it, all while having his big honey-like eyes fixed on your hot face.

“GDP or Gross Domestic Product.” you answered when your eyes met hiss.

Without breaking eye contact, his lips wrapped around your nup, and his tongue moved side to side at a rapid pace. You let out a pleasured, high-pitched noise as your climax took over you, your fluids spilling all over his face. Once you stopped trembling from the pleasure, he took his time to clean up any moisture left on your skin, sending light bolts through your veins whenever he touched an over-sensitive spot.

“Jesus, Spencer.” you said, defeatedly laying against your seat “I still don’t understand how I can retain any information when you eat me out like that.”

“Actually,” he began, standing up from the floor “the basis for this technique relies on unconscious rewarding instead of conscious rewarding. While you’re taking the test you will remember the sensations instead of the concepts directly, and eventually your unconscious will just make the connection between the two. Similar to how we sometimes use smells to help people remember facts about a case.”

He moved behind you as he explained, laying his hands on your shoulders; you had only covered half the material for the final, so there was plenty left to go. You were listening intently to his ramble, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, it was a little bit so you had an excuse to not continue studying.

“So, you’re telling me I’m going to be horny in the middle of the test if they ask me about GDP?” you asked in a half joke, however, he actually took his time to consider the possibility.

“There’s a 30% chance that will happen. Don’t worry, though, I can be there to take care of you right after it.” from behind, he grabbed at your chin and tilted your head back to press a gentle kiss to your lips, almost spiderman-like. Immediately, he dragged a chair closer to your desk, ready to go back to studying with you “Come on, we still have two more blocks to go.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you smut #blurb: mine #blurb: spencer #blurb: smut #blurb: criminal minds #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds smut #criminal minds blurb

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snailvibes · 4 months ago

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Evening chat I give you my list of some of my autistic Max Caulfield related headcanons except a lot ended up being pricefield related oops (does include spoilers)

Remember these are all HEADCANONS and me just being silly and having fun projecting on my fav lol

- that grey jacket she’s always wearing? That’s her comfort clothing item why do you think she’s still got it in double exposure

- even ever since she was really young Max has always been a picky eater bc of dealing with food textures and generally not liking a lot of things. Chloe always tried to make sure her mom bought things that Max liked so she could always have stuff to give her no matter what

- Max doesn’t really know how to like. Enter group discussions, it’s a lot easier for her to talk to people if it’s either one on one and with someone she’s familiar or comfortable with, she knows what she’s gonna say to someone before going in (like “I’m going to go up to Kate and check in on her” or “I’m going to go up to Brooke and ask about her drone”), or it’s someone talking to her and asking her questions, so when it’s people just generally chatting in a group she usually gets left out cus she doesn’t know how to jump in

- loud noises usually overstimulate her (vortex club party was hell) and growing up one of the more common times that occurred was when it stormed outside :) [which still held true throughout the game :))] post sacrifice Arcadia Bay ending she just kinda completely shut down in Chloe’s truck for a long while through a mix of it and the emotions from everything

- aside from Chloe, Kate was the first person Max found who actively listened to and engaged in her infodumping. During their first few tea hangout sessions she’d find herself accidentally going on about photography and stop herself, and every time Kate would encourage her to keep going cus she enjoyed hearing about it (ultimate Loves to yap + loves to listen duo)

- a lot of the time when Max shuts down she ends up going nonverbal for long periods of time and Chloe is the only one who can translate what she’s trying to communicate lmao. Everyone else, while they mean well, tend to just get confused so if she’s like with Kate or Warren when it happens they’ll just be like “shit time to track down Chloe”

- Chloe’s hair is one of her favorite things to mess with and play with cus she loves the sensation of running her hands through it, so when she’s overwhelmed Chloe will just take off her beanie and let Max run her hands through her hair for as long as she needs

- The Captain is her comfort plush which is why she brought him with her to Arcadia Bay. Usually she carries him around with her as much as she can but she didn’t wanna get made fun of for it at Blackwell so she started keeping him in her dorm. Post Sacrifice Arcadia Bay, she drags Chloe back to Blackwell before they leave so she can retrieve him from the rubble and starts carrying him with her everywhere again. Post Sacrifice Chloe she just starts carrying him with her everywhere at School without really worrying about what people will think, and everyone just doesn’t say anything cus they can tell she needs it.

- Max relies on music a LOT to block out the world when everything is too much. Chloe knows this and when she’s not using her earbuds to do it alone, will always offer to sit quietly and listen with her if she wants

- Warren Graham I know what you are /ref him and Max infodump about nerdy movies together almost every chance they get and sometimes they have to be pried apart in the halls to get them to go to class bc they will go on for hours if left alone to

- going back to that “Max struggles with conversation in groups” point, if said convos are happening in the photography classroom whether it’s a “class discuss this” moment or a group project, Kate will always try her best to get Max included in ways that work for her like asking for her thoughts or just pulling herself away from the group to chat with Max one on one

- girlie needs very specific instructions for things because otherwise she will overthink what to do and get confused and this has screwed her over with so many class assignments but I think she’d get help from Kate in that regard because she’s the only one she’s not anxious about asking if she knows what someone meant by something

#autistic max is so very special 2 me cus she’s kinda the first comfort character I have #that like is the closest to being almost canonically autistic #like I could go on and one about it it makes me so happy she’s so me fr fr #I AM CRINGE AND I AM FREE!!!#I don’t expect this one to get attention I’ve just had a shitty day and wanted to be self indulgent lol #also the Kate ones can be taken as Marshfield I don’t mind cus I actually rlly love marshfield lmao #life is strange #lis #max caulfield #pricefield #chloe price #kate marsh #warren graham #headcanons

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strangevynl · 1 month ago

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slipping through the cracks | k.sm x afab!reader. angst

Authors note: was bored so I asked ChatGPT for a prompt to write so here :)

Seungmin sat alone in the dimly lit room, the soft hum of the air conditioning his only company. The hours had drifted by as he stared at the clock on the wall, each tick a cruel reminder of the time slipping away. His heart ached with a heaviness he couldn’t quite explain, a sensation that had become all too familiar in recent weeks.

His phone buzzed softly on the table beside him, but he ignored it, unable to muster the energy to check the messages. They were from her—always from her. He had been avoiding her calls, avoiding her messages, because he didn’t know how to face her after everything.

The relationship had started out with such promise, their connection seemingly effortless. But as the months went by, cracks had begun to show. Seungmin had been consumed by his responsibilities, his career, and the pressure of living up to expectations. She had been patient, understanding, always supporting him even when it seemed he was drifting further away.

But one evening, as they sat together in their favorite café, the conversation had turned into a confrontation. She had tried to voice her feelings, her frustration at the way he had been shutting her out. Seungmin, overwhelmed and defensive, had reacted poorly, his words sharper than he intended. The argument ended with her walking out, leaving behind an air of unspoken goodbyes.

The days following the argument were a blur. He had wanted to reach out, to apologize, but something held him back. His pride? His fear of admitting he was wrong? Perhaps it was both. And now, the thought of facing her after everything was unbearable. He knew the damage had been done, that the hurt was deep, but he wasn’t sure if it was too late to fix it.

A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. His heart raced, a mix of hope and dread. He opened the door to find her standing there, looking tired but resolute. Her eyes met his, a silent storm of emotions passing between them.

“I’ve been trying to reach you,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “I needed to talk.”

Seungmin nodded, stepping aside to let her in. They sat across from each other, the silence heavy between them. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and it cut through him like a knife.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice breaking. “I didn’t know how to handle everything. I thought I could keep going without acknowledging how much I was hurting you.”

She looked down, her fingers twisting nervously. “I understand you have your responsibilities, Seungmin. But when you shut me out, it felt like you were choosing everything else over me. Over us.”

He reached out, gently touching her hand. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I was scared, and I let my fear control my actions. I should have been honest with you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she met his gaze. “I needed you to be there for me, just like I’ve always tried to be there for you. I’m not sure if we can go back to how things were, but I needed you to know how much you hurt me.”

Seungmin’s heart ached with the weight of her words. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Please, give me a chance.”

She took a deep breath, her tears falling freely now. “I need time to think. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I hope we can find a way to heal from this.”

As she turned to leave, Seungmin felt a pang of desperation. “I’ll wait for you,” he said quietly. “No matter how long it takes.”

The door closed behind her, and Seungmin sat alone once more, the silence in the room now filled with the promise of change and the hope of redemption. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, but he was ready to face it, determined to rebuild what had been broken and to fight for the love that still lingered in his heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the silence between Seungmin and her became a constant, aching presence in his life. Each day he struggled to balance his responsibilities and the lingering sense of loss. The guilt weighed heavily on him, a reminder of the words left unspoken and the hurt he had caused.

Seungmin threw himself into his work, hoping that by immersing himself in his career, he could drown out the pain. But no matter how busy he was, the thoughts of her lingered, each memory a sharp reminder of the love he had nearly lost.

One evening, as he was walking home from the studio, Seungmin spotted her sitting alone on a park bench. The sight of her took him by surprise, and his heart skipped a beat. She looked up as he approached, her expression a mix of sadness and resolve.

“Seungmin” she said, her voice steady but soft.

He took a seat beside her, the familiar warmth of her presence both comforting and painful. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said quietly.

She nodded, looking out at the darkening sky. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About us. About everything that happened.”

Seungmin’s heart pounded in his chest. “And?”

She took a deep breath, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I’ve realized that I can’t keep holding onto the hurt. It’s consuming me, and it’s not fair to either of us. I need to forgive you, not just for your sake, but for my own.”

Seungmin felt a wave of relief mixed with trepidation. “I’ve been trying to find the right way to make amends. I know I can’t undo the past, but I want to show you that I’m willing to change.”

She turned to him, her eyes searching his face. “It’s not just about changing, Seungmin. It’s about understanding. I need to know that you’re willing to prioritize us, not just when it’s convenient but when it’s hard too.”

He nodded earnestly. “I understand. I’ve been selfish, and I see now that love is more than just words. It’s about actions, and I’m ready to show you through mine.”

A faint smile appeared on her lips, though it was tinged with sadness. “I’m not sure what the future holds for us, but I do want to try. I want to see if we can find a way back to each other, but it’s going to take time.”

Seungmin reached out, gently taking her hand in his. “I’m willing to wait. I’ll be here, doing everything I can to earn back your trust and show you that I value what we have.”

They sat in silence, the cool breeze carrying the sounds of the city around them. For the first time in weeks, Seungmin felt a glimmer of hope. It was the beginning of a new chapter, one where healing and understanding would be the foundation.

As they stood to leave, Seungmin glanced at her with a newfound determination. “Thank you for giving us a chance,” he said softly.

She nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go. “Let’s take it one day at a time.”

As they walked away from the park, side by side but not yet entirely together, Seungmin felt a cautious optimism. The road ahead was uncertain, but he was ready to navigate it, step by step, with the hope of rekindling the love they once shared.

©️strangevynl

🏷️ : none yet

#felix angst #skz angst seungmin #skz angst #leeknow angst #stray kids angst #hwang hyunjin angst #seungmin angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids ff

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its-a-snood-silly · 1 year ago

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Wenclair Headcanon 🖤🩷

Wednesday realizes her feelings. Pt. 1

I lock my gaze in on the textbook sprawled out in front of me, pretending as if I didn’t catch Enid blatantly staring at me. I’m trying to ignore the fact that catching her has resulted in an unfamiliar, warm tingling sensation in my chest. How unsettling. How… Pleasant?

No.

The more I try not to focus on it, the more the words in the book in front of me blur to gibberish. I can feel a stinging of salt forming behind my eyes. The air suddenly feels too thick to breathe in. I go to grab my belongings so I can hurry out before something emerges that gives everyone a show. But the annoyance of being flustered causes my hand to pull too hard, and my textbook clamors down to the floor. If all eyes weren’t on me before, they certainly are now.

“Miss Addams, are you-“ Professor Lavinia starts, but i’m halfway out the door before she can finish. I trudge as fast as I can to the bathroom, my legs feeling like i’m walking through mud. I finally reach the restroom and the second the door swings shut, hurricane Wednesday is released.

What is this? Why is this happening? Why am I unable to hold back these tears, unable to catch my breath? Is this a panic attack? No. I am not an anxious person. This makes no sense. I topple over to the sink and throw an icy splash of water onto my face. The sudden coolness shocks me back to reality. My breath is finally catching. Just as I’m gaining control of myself again, the door swings open.

I look up, and as I lock eyes with the intruder to my moment of weakness, the stinging feeling returns to my eyes.

It’s her. Enid.

I take in a sharp breath of air, “what do you want, Sinclair?” I say coldly, trying not to make eye contact.

“I… um… Professor Lavinia asked for someone to come check on you. I… figured you’d prefer me over someone random. Are you alright?” she stutters.

I bring my gaze up to my reflection. Unable to recognize the being staring back at me. Emotional. Reddened, teary-eyes. Unable to form cohesive thoughts. This situation is absolutely horrifying, and I’m starting to believe i’ve gone mad.

“…..Wednesday?” she says. I realize I’ve been staring at myself for too long and didn’t actually answer her.

“I’m fine, Enid, I just-“ I start, making the mistake of locking eyes with her. Something pulls deep in my stomach at the sight of her. Her eyes are wide, with what I assume is worry. Normally I’m able to deflect any confrontation from those concerned with my feelings. But Enid.. I hate to admit it. But I’ve realized Enid has a way of making it through to the deepest parts of me in a way that’s incomprehensible. As if she’s found a weak point in the barricade i’ve built around my emotional side.

“I’m fine.” I spit out, quickly wiping my eyes and rushing to head out the door. I need air.

Just as I’m about to pass her, she does the unthinkable and grabs my arm. “Wednesday.” she says, a bit more stern inflection in her voice this time. She yanks me so i’m left with no choice but to face her, and I damn her werewolf capability of being physically stronger than her size would lead you to believe. “Touch me again, Sinclair, and. And…” I want to yell, I want to threaten her like I do to anyone who dares lay their hands on me unwillingly. But something makes me stop. My brow furrows at this frustrating conflict.

“Wednesday Addams, I know you’re totally not emotional and act like you don’t care, which is why this moment is so much more worrying for me. You told me that crying solves nothing, yet here you are. Clearly something IS wrong, and I’m not letting you go until you get whatever it is that’s happening off of your chest. Threaten to suffocate me, or cut off my hand, I don’t care. Spill, Addams. I’m serious,” she scolds. I stare harshly at her, and then sigh. I can feel my suppressed feelings starting to boil over, and the need to spew them out is burning in the back of my throat.

“Fine.” I spit, and out comes everything i’ve been trying so hard to avoid speaking aloud. Especially to the one who’s the causation of all this emotional turmoil.

(Pt. 2 will come soon! xx)

#wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #jenna ortega #emma myers #wednesday x enid #wednesday #netflix wednesday #wenclair headcanon #wenclair fanfic

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her-power · 9 months ago

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Fixation on the Darkness (Part One: Dark Romance! e.m. x fem! reader)

‼️❌🛑18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🛑❌‼️

Trigger/Content Warning: Dark! Somewhat Souless! Eddie! Strong sexual content, blood play, unprotected p+v, choking, hair pulling, rough intercourse, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (f receiving *for now*), fight or flight responses, grief, thoughts of unaliving self & others, manipulation, violence, smut, some fluff, angst.

Summary: This takes place in 1987, a year after the events of S4. Hawkins is in complete disrepair. The reader is grieving the death of her old love Eddie Munson. She is convinced he’s still alive because there was no body, but she knows she is just fooling herself. Until the dreams. Is he is the same? Has he changed? She finds out sooner than she thinks, and realizes that someone she once loved is lurking in the shadows, covered in darkness, and not the same man she remembers. Is she the only one that can make him remember who he truly is? Reader learns about the Upside Down later on in the story.

Word Count: 4.4k

Author’s Warning: This is going to be a multiple parts series, followed by another series that will be the sequel. This is completely different from my last two series. It’s dark, it’s eerie, it’s heart wrenching, it’s not going to be your typical Eddie. This is a dark romance, but do not, for the love of everything, do not follow in the footsteps of the reader. Manipulative relationships and emotional abuse is not okay. This is fiction/fantasy but it talks about REAL life issues.

The rush of cold air bites your skin as it startles you awake. You had kicked your blanket off in the middle of the night; your bare legs are covered in gooseflesh. The cold air was coming from your open window, but you don’t remember opening it. Why would you? It was the middle of winter after all. You throw your legs over the side of the bed, stumbling through the pitch blackness of your bedroom to close the window. You let out a grunt as you slam it shut, it creaks against the pane, and you lock it. A slight chill is still in the air, and what feels like icy hands glides up your spine and cups the back of your neck. A sharp breath escapes you, yet you remain frozen. Someone was here.

“That’s it…”

You gasp at the sound of the voice, the voice you have spent a year making sure you remembered over and over, but something was different. He was different.

“Eddie?” You’re breathless, cool lips touch your neck.

A low growl is heard, rumbling deep from his chest. A pleasant ache happens between your legs at the sound. “Mmm…I can smell you.” His voice, but not his voice…deeper, breathier…beautiful.

You feel his teeth graze your ear lobe, moving towards your neck and you hiss. A stinging pain: he bit you. You shudder when you feel his tongue move over the same spot, followed by his lips.

You moan.

Cold hands move under your shirt, your nipples hardening instantly once you feel the other cooling sensation from the metal of his rings. “Eddie.” You whisper again; his hands squeeze your breasts, causing a wetness to pool between your legs.

You feel his lips against your ear, even his his breath is cold. “Time to wake up, doll.”

“I don’t want to.” You whimper, your head falls back against his shoulder as he tugs your nipple, his other hand slides down your stomach, into your underwear. His fingers were cold, but you welcomed it as he palms your clit, moving the lips with his fingers.

You feel him smile against your throat, his teeth grazes that same spot again, you moan again. You so desperately wanted to turn to look at him, to see him, to convince yourself that this wasn’t just a dream, and he was alive, but he kept a strong hold on you, keeping your back to his chest.

“Tsk tsk, my love. Still stubborn.” A low rumble in his chest again and you cry out, he slips two fingers inside you, but he doesn’t move them. “You will wake up. I need you thinking of me when the hot water from the shower hits your skin, when you’re driving into town, I need you thinking—” he growls, shoving his fingers deeper and you sob. “I need you thinking about what I’m going to do to you next, about where I want to kiss you, taste you. I need you thinking of me when you’re alone in your bed, touching yourself, moaning my name.” He licks your throat, and you stifle a louder moan. “That’s a good girl...” He slides his fingers out of you, and you want to cry, you don’t feel him behind you anymore. “Don’t be sad, my love. I’ve only just begun.”

Your eyes snap open and the sunlight immediately blinds you. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying so desperately to wish yourself back into the dream. This is the one of many dreams you’ve been being tortured with these last few weeks, but in the ones before this, you can only feel his presence, nothing else.

But this felt so real. There was still a dull ache between your legs, your nipples were peaking through your shirt. You swore the ghost of his fingers still lingered inside you as you laid there. You close your eyes, moving your hand gently down over your underwear, you were soaking. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you slide your fingers into your underwear, gently dancing over your clit. You thought about him; the last time you were with him. Before everything. Before the murders, before the earthquake, before you knew he wasn’t ever coming back. He took his time with you, he savored every moment, every taste of you. His tongue was like magic, every lick, every suck, it felt as if you’re body was being lifted into the cosmos, and you didn’t want to come back down. He would whisper how much he loved you, how he couldn’t wait to be out of this shitty town, and to take on the world together. When he kissed your lips, it took your breath away, he was so sweet, so kind…

Your body jerks as you orgasm, your thighs clench around your hand as you whimper, continuing to rub yourself until you couldn’t take it anymore. You sigh loudly, the euphoric feeling still lingers, and then it’s gone.

You lay there, your eyes still closed and you silently cry. The love of your life was gone forever, but for some reason…you felt in the depths of your soul that he wasn’t. That tether was still there, and it held on.

Even with the wool from your socks and your thick black boots, the cold still bit at your toes as you walk through the cemetery. You bury your face in your scarf, the breeze was making it worse. The snow made the cemetery seem more silent than normal, no sounds of life or a skitter of a rodent. You had been coming here every week for the last six months since they finally put headstone in. Most of the cemetery was destroyed in the earthquake, the yellow tape still visible around the cracks in the Earth from where you stood. You approach the row of headstones where his laid and see a capped head bobbing as it knelt in front of the stone. You walk closer, seeing that it was Wayne, scrubbing vigorously at the stone. You jog towards him.

“Again?” You say, your anger seething in your veins as you see the words murderer spray painted over his name. It had happened a lot during the summer; even though his name was cleared at the end of ‘86 because of Jason’s disappearance and lack of evidence, the town still hated him.

Wayne looks up you, the same anger in his eyes. “Damn kids, they ran off when I saw them. Couldn’t have been younger than seventeen.”

“Assholes.” You mutter, kneeling in the snow next to him. You take the sponge from him with gloved hands. “I’ll do this, you’re gonna get frost bite.”

He doesn’t fight you, just sighs and watches silently as you remove the rest of the paint. You knew Wayne came here at least everyday; even though they couldn’t find his body, you think it gave him comfort knowing he could visit him. It broke your heart; he fought so hard to clear his name and when he finally did, no one associated with him. Except you and Dustin. Sometimes, Steve Harrington, but that was rare; there was always something haunting him in his eyes, and you didn’t know what he saw when the earthquake happened, what he felt.

The headstone was cleaned up, and you stand up, dusting the snow off your knees.

“Thank you.” Wayne mutters, lighting up a cigarette. He stares at Eddie’s name and looks over at you. “How are you doing? Haven’t seen you in awhile.”

That made you feel guilty, something about the winter was turning you into a hermit. It had been over a year since Eddie’s death and for some reason, the grief hurt more in the cold, like bones full of arthritis.

You shrug. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve been good?”

He smirks. “Not in the slightest.”

“I’m still hanging on.” You sigh. “That’s all I can do; all anyone can do.” A cold chill creeps up your spine, but it wasn’t from the wind. It felt foreign, but familiar. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you, you shake the feeling. “What about you?”

He grumbles. “I don’t do shit besides work, so, nothings changed.” You give him a sweet smile and he sigh, gently patting your back. “It was good seeing you kid, don’t be a stranger. My doors always open.”

You watch him walk away, feeling the sadness overwhelm you as you turn back to the headstone. You knew Wayne meant it, knew that you felt the safest when you were there. Not that your house wasn’t safe, but when you graduated last year, your mother left the house to you when she retired and moved down to Florida. Completely paid off, but you hated being alone. You considered getting a cat, but you could barely take care of yourself let alone an animal. All you did was go to work at the record store, come home, make yourself dinner and go to sleep. Weekends was when you “decompressed” and that consisted of smoking an entire joint to your face while watching all the Star Wars on repeat. Eddie would always make you laugh by reenacting the final battle between Vader and Luke, doing the voices, using your broom as a lightsaber. It was moments like that that made you miss him the most, when he made you laugh until you couldn’t breathe, when he would just hold you on the couch, gently curling his fingers through your hair. His favorite thing to do was to play air guitar on your leg whenever his favorite song came on, and it drove you crazy because he would tickle you at the same time.

You silently walk back to your car, and shiver as you turn the ignition on. It would take at least five minutes for your car to heat up, it was as old as dirt. You still felt eyes on you as the sun set overhead, you jump back, seeing a dark shadow skitter behind a tree.

A dark human shadow.

No, it was just an animal. That’s all.

Just an animal.

The drive home was silent; you had kept the music low. You couldn’t stop thinking about your dream. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, and how he felt. He was so cold, but he caused a fire to erupt inside you. You pull in your driveway; the first thing you notice was the soft light coming from the living room. You don’t remember turning it on before you left; you don’t remember a lot of things as of lately. You step out of the car and walk up your steps to the front door. You push the door shut with your hip, locking the deadbolt and the chain. You hang up your coat and kick the snow off your boots, slipping them off. Quickly changing into black sweatpants and an oversized flannel, you take your weed stash out of your drawer and roll yourself a few joints. You kept your wool socks on and had ignited the fire in the fireplace.

The couch you had was old, but it was comfortable. You also couldn’t afford to buy a new one, and as much as you hated the thing, it was sentimental to you. The music from A New Hope comes over the television speakers, you light up the joint, feeling the burn as you pull the smoke into your lungs. You lean back, pulling your hair into a messy braid, the joint dangling from your lips. The overhead light flickers violently, startling you; followed by the sound of footsteps coming from upstairs.

Nope.

You know how this goes; you’ve watched every slasher film since the early 80s, you learned a thing or two about going after an unexplained sound.

You were just high; everything was fine. The house was old; it was bound to have weird electrical issues and settling foundation. Living alone sucked, every sound you heard made you feel like you were signing off on an unavoidable death. Your leg bobs and you groan, pushing yourself off the couch, and going to the front door to make sure everything is locked.

Double checking the windows, the doors, the basement door, you realized you were just psyching yourself out. You needed to lay off the weed for awhile, or actually get a cat. As you walk back to the couch, the lights flicker again and then they burn out.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You mutter, trying to blindly move your way back to the kitchen to grab a flashlight. You grip the handle of the drawer, but you pause. The hair on the back of your neck rises; a cold breeze blows through your hair, and you shudder. Physically, you couldn’t move, but your brain was telling you, you needed to run. Something wasn’t right, something was in the kitchen with you.

It was so cold.

“Mmm…you smell so sweet.”

You scream, loud, and you let go of the drawer. You’re running. Something cold breezes by you and suddenly you’re lifted in the air, being forcefully slammed against the wall of your living room. Cold hands were on your throat, but it wasn’t tight, just a strong hold…

You were terrified, you start punching at whatever has a hold of you, and then you hear a low rumbling growl as your pushed harder into the wall. You go still, your eyes are still squeezed shut, your heart was racing.

“I can hear your heart beating.”

You gasp, and you open your eyes.

That voice. From your dream.

You could only see darkness in front of you, but whoever had a hold on you, the moonlight hit his face just right. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t peel your eyes away, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing…except…

His eyes.

Wide, hints of that chocolate brown, with a weird color…almost blue, but not…like a tiger’s eyes. His hair…curly, matted, beautiful. His eyes scared you, terrified you. It looked like he was wearing eyeliner, but as you look closely, it’s just very dark circles; the corners of his eyes crinkled, he was grinning at you through the darkness.

“Eddie?” You finally find your voice.

Another low growl: you gasp, feeling as his hand curls around your throat, moving up your chin, and curls his hands painfully in your hair. You could feel his breath on your neck as he pushes himself against you. He was freezing, his hands were even colder. What was happening? Were you dreaming again? No, you’re awake.

You’re awake!

“Eddie.” You say again, louder this time. His hand goes to your mouth hard, pushing your head against the wall, you groan out in pain against his hand. He was so strong. You see his full face now, he was still grinning, it was so sinister and tears spring to your eyes. Whoever this was, it wasn’t your Eddie.

But it was.

His face, his eyes, his hair.

He puts his pale finger to his lips.

“Shhhhh…” He giggles, deep, guttural. His other hand moves down your arms, towards your waist, he tightens his hand there, moving it slowly towards your breasts. Your nipples peak at the coldness of his hand, and a soft grunt escapes you. He lifts his eyes to you, gently pulling his hand away from your mouth. Your breathing picks up as you stare at him, his hand moving closer and closer to your nipple. “Mmm. You’re so beautiful covered in darkness.” His breath hits your lips, and you shudder when he licks you from the base of your throat, all the way up to your lips. He’s kissing you, his tongue dancing with yours, you go to touch his face, but he pins both arms above your head, and you moan, a pleasant tingle settles in your gut. His fingers pinch your nipple now, and you moan against his mouth. He lets out a low growl, licking and sucking his way to where your neck meets your shoulder. Your eyes flutter closed, feeling his teeth graze the sensitive spot on your skin.

You need to see his face again.

You needed to be sure.

“Eddie look at me.” You say breathlessly.

He bites you; you swore he drew blood, and he kept going, his mouth now causing you pain as he bit into your flesh. “Eddie, Eddie! Stop! Stop! You’re hurting me! Stop!” You yell at him, breaking out of his grasp with all your strength and you instinctually push him away.

You see his discolored eyes widen for a split second in the darkness, like he realized he had forgotten something and just remembered that he did. And in that exact moment, the lights turn back on.

He was gone.

Where the fuck did he go?

No, this really happened, he was here. He was standing right here.

Your hand goes to your throat, you feel warmth, a stickiness, a smell. Your heart pounds in your chest when you pull your hand away and see blood. You rush to the bathroom, the light too bright. You squint at yourself in the mirror, your eyes widening as you see a smear of blood right where he had bit you, and his teeth marks. You grab a washcloth, placing it to your throat and wincing. You felt violated, but you also felt…somewhat whole again.

You also felt crazy.

After cleaning yourself up, you spent a half an hour walking through every inch of your house, trying to find some sort of proof that he was there. The doors and windows were still locked, nothing looked amiss. There was no way you imagined it; you could feel him, see him, you had the fucking bite mark to prove it. Why did he bite you? Why did he seem to enjoy hurting you?

Maybe you were imagining things.

Because Eddie wouldn’t be that sinister.

No, the Eddie you knew wouldn’t do that.

He just wouldn’t.

“You look like hell.”

You meet Dustin’s eyes from across the table of the diner, you were pushing your pancakes around your plate with your fork.

You smirk, “Nice to see you too, Dusty.”

He wasn’t wrong; you had barely slept. It had been over a week since the encounter in your living room. The morning after, when you had taken off the bandage from your throat, you almost threw up when you see there was no healing wound, no sign of the blood that was there, no bite mark. That moment of just staring at yourself in the mirror gave you validation that maybe you were a little bit crazy. You haven’t had any dreams that you remember, and everything felt normal at your house.

He gives you a sweet smile. “I’m sorry. I know it’s been a rough year. I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Are you?”

He blinks, something flashes over his gaze, a memory, and his face pales for a moment before he’s smiling at you again. “Why yes, I am. Me and the guys started a new campaign with Erica Sinclair. We left off where…we didn’t finish it…we thought we shouldn’t.”

You nod, feeling your lips tug it onto a frown. He was with Eddie when he died, but he never told you the full story. Part of you wanted to know, the other part didn’t. He spent months trying to convince everyone in Hawkins that Eddie was innocent, even going as far as telling parts of his story how Eddie died protecting a town that hated him. A lot of the townspeople believed him, but the others were too stubborn to believe it.

“Are you okay?” He asks you gently.

You give him a smile, shrugging. “No, but I’ll be fine.”

He stares at you, biting his lip, he looked like he was trying to tell you something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Nightmares again?”

You stare at him. Not really sure if you want to tell him what you’ve been dreaming about; how part of you is still convinced that he’s alive. You nod anyway. “Not nightmares, just…he’s in them more. And they feel real, like I can feel him touching me, and I can see him. Before it was just…darkness. Sounds crazy but, I feel like he’s alive when I have them.” You shake your head. “I know it’s crazy but, it’s comforting I guess.”

Dustin nods, staring down at his plate of food. “Doesn’t sound crazy. I’ve seen him a few times too…in my dreams. Except he’s…he’s different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, he’s just…” he stops and awkwardly laughs. “It’s just dreams, our brains like to play tricks on us.”

He doesn’t say anything more, and you don’t ask him any further. You change the subject, and the two of you chatted about the future, where you wanted to go if the opportunity arose. You weren’t sure if he noticed, but you couldn’t shake the feeling again that someone was watching you, you felt blood as you dug your nails into your palm.

It had started to snow later that night, you sat at your bay window, watching as the snow made everything quiet. You pull gently on the end of the joint, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke billow from your nostrils.

A brush of cold air tickles your skin and you shudder, quickly closing the window.

“Mommy finally left you the house?” A deep chuckle from a familiar voice.

You gasp, a scream stuck in your throat as you stumble to the floor. You gaze into the kitchen, and your heart falls to your stomach.

No. It couldn’t be.

He stood there leaning against the doorframe, smiling at you, his arms crossed over his chest. His jeans had holes at the knees; you notice his hellfire shirt…torn at the sides, dried blood everywhere, healed teeth marks on his pale flesh. His army green jacket was covered in dark spots, and his boots, they were surprisingly clean. His hair was still beautiful, but again…

His eyes.

You couldn’t move from where you sat, your eyes were wide as you fixed on his gaze. He moves closer to you, and you whimper. “What happened to you?” You whisper, your voice shaking.

“Oh, you know, this and that. It was pretty fucking gnarly.” He grins at you. He lifts up his shirt and you flinch; all around his stomach and sides were healed scars. You close your eyes and shake your head.

“No, I need to wake up now, I need to wake up.” You say to yourself and feel tears burn your eyes. You feel a rush of a cold breeze and your eyes snap open. He’s so close to your face.

“No. No. No. No. It’s okay, it’s me.” He grins at you, his cold finger gently caressing your cheek as you turn your face away from him. “You don’t need to be scared. I’m not gonna hurt you…I just want to taste you a little bit.”

You shake your head, meeting his gaze. “You’re not Eddie.”

He laughs, a mocking laugh, his head titling to the side. “I’m not? Your body is telling you differently.”

He wasn’t wrong: there was so much excitement coursing through your veins, you felt the familiar love you felt for him as you stared at him. You missed him so much. The man kneeling in front of you has the face of Eddie but not his mind. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong with him. “Please…”

“Please what? You can get up and move anytime you want to, sweetheart. Just don’t run, it gets me all…” he shudders and rolls his shoulders, grinning again. “It gets me all riled up inside.”

What? Like he’s a fucking predator?

“Eddie…” You whisper and his eyes dart to yours. “How are you alive?”

He sits back on his heels, studying your face. His grin touches his eyes, and it scares you. “Who says I’m alive?” He giggles at your widening eyes; you almost flinch away from him when he grabs your face. Holding your cheeks, his thumb gently moves over your lips. A growl rumbles in his chest. “So beautiful…your lips. I missed you.”

Tears well in your eyes, and you squeeze them shut. “I missed you too…”

You hear what sounds like him crying, and then you realize he’s laughing. High pitched, cackle and you look at him, your heart shattering. “My boyfriend died and left me. My heart is in a million pieces, I can’t get up at night because I miss the love of my life, I wish he was here, I know he’s alive, waaaaah, waaaah. Seriously, sweetheart, you sound so pathetic.”

“Fuck you!” You yell at him, or whatever the fuck he was. He laughs even harder and stands up and moves away from you.

“Well, baby, you got your wish.” He extends his arms out to his sides and does a spin. “Here I am, and I’m better than ever.”

You scramble to your feet towards the front door, you hear him groan in annoyance as he jumps in front of you, using his body to block your way to the door and he pulls you towards him by your hair. He pulls your back to his chest, his nose buried in your hair as his arm drapes over your shoulder and chest. “What did I say about running? Now you got me feeling things.” His voice is deep, guttural, menacing.

You close your eyes, feeling the coldness from his lips as they touch your throat. “Did you think of me when you touched yourself? Did you scream my name?”

You tremble, but a smirk toys at your lips and you feel a pleasant ache between your legs as he tightens his hold. That wasn’t a dream, she realizes. That was real. He was real.

“Eddie…” You whimper, your fingers digging into his jacket, you try to turn your face to his mouth, but he moves his face away.

“Mmmm…I love when you say my name. Say it again.” His hand travels down your tummy, swims over your navel, teasing the snap of your jeans.

Your eyes flutter closed. “Eddie.”

His growl vibrates in his chest, his cold hands go into your underwear, and you arch your back against him as he palms your clit. “Again.” His lips kiss your throat gently.

“Eddie…” You moan, your breath coming out in short gasps as you feel his cold fingers slip inside you.

“Again…” He bites your throat, but it didn’t hurt you, instead, it lit something up inside of you, something that had been building and building.

And boy, did it feel fucking good.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson comfort #Spotify

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gigglymarvel · 8 months ago

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Tickly Witch vs Stubborn Widow

We’re back! Life took over so we’re so sorry for kinda abandoning this blog. But we’re back with all the fluff, enjoy this fic of Wanda bringing out Yelena’s softness. 💕

Natasha had asked Wanda to look out for her sister while she was away on a mission. The witch had no issues making sure she ate as everyone including the blonde widow loved her cooking, but when it came to emotional comfort….Yelena was often closed off.

Yelena was drained, she had agreed to train up Kate on her basic sparring skills whilst trying her best to look out for her big sister despite Natasha insisting that she was fine. A lot of changes had happened recently so she wanted to recharge, and she only knew how to do that by shutting herself in her room.

Wanda could sense the weight of her thoughts, trying not to intrude on specifics, she knocked, “Lena?”

The blonde Widow’s eyes opened the second she heard the first knock, thinking it was her big sister. “You’re back early…”

“Hey, I'm sorry, it's Wanda not Nat,” her eyes sympathetic, a soft smile on her lips.

“Wanda?” She murmured out, genuinely confused yet not moving from her position on the bed, laying down on it with her head stuffed in the pillows.

“Yes…it's me. I, uh, snuck up some cookies if you'd like? Or maybe we can just hang out?” She tried,wanting to care for the younger of the widow sisters but unsure. She and Nat had developed a camaraderie, and she and Yelena had even exchanged jokes, but she knew the blonde had yet to be truly open with anyone in the compound besides her sister.

She just shrugged. “No one is stopping you from joining me, but I am pretty burnt out right now so I may be no good for fun.” Yelena admitted, basically giving Wanda a chance to back out if she wanted to.

“I'm happy to just exist next to you,” she said, a little cheerful that Yelena would let her, as she opened the door and sat next to the blonde.

“Uh.. okay.” Yelena replied quietly, admittedly a little confused as to why Wanda wanted to spend time with her, since they don’t really hang out on a one to one basis.

“Nat did ask me to check in with you while she was away, but honestly…I've wanted to get to know you better as a whole. You appreciate my Sokovian dishes like no one besides Natasha. And you're funny, kind, and strong, but…I want to help you have more than one person you can feel safe with?” Wanda tried.

“You are a good cook.” Yelena told her. “However I do not have the energy to be entertaining enough or to even be a decent human.” She replied truthfully

“You are tired, I can massage you?” She offered gently, making Yelena briefly turn her head to look up at Wanda. “You… want to what?”

The redheaded witch bit her lip, “Massage you? I'm sorry if it was a weird suggestion…you just seem tense and…”

“I am a tense person, what can I say?” She replied quietly. “I am not used to the feeling of relaxation.”

“So…may I massage you?” Wanda asked quietly. Yelena just shrugged. “I guess.”

The witch gently sat behind Yelena, beginning by kneading her shoulders. The spy was clearly hesitant to relax, and was a little more tense when Wanda touched her, but there was something about her touch which allowed her to maybe relax a little into the sensation.

“I'm adding a little magic, is that okay?” The witch asked softly. Yelena couldn’t help but bite her lip, a little hesitant about what it was going to feel like, but nodded anyway.

She used the magic to gently heat her hands, adding a little pulsing which gently loosened the knots, “Is this still okay?”

Yelena couldn’t help but embrace the feeling a little, not expecting it to feel the way it did, she felt her knots releasing as she brought her arms up to rest her head on them.

Wanda smiled fondly, “I can feel the knots releasing,” and then massaged down, pulsing into her ribs now, but the magic ever so gently vibrated them.

Yelena couldn’t help but flinch, tensing a little again but tried to continue the conversation. “As can I…” she replied quietly.

“Oh sorry did that hurt? I saw you flinch,” Wanda checked in, afraid she'd hurt Yelena with her magic. The blonde wasn’t sure on how to respond, she was usually a direct person but she wasn’t completely sure on whether she could be open with her yet, so she just shook her head silently.

The witch nodded, working her way down, and kneaded into her back now, vibrating the gently heated magic into her lower back, but the magic was dancing through the widow too.

Yelena couldn’t help but kick a little, trying to keep her upper body still so she could try and maintain her toughness.

Wanda had no idea the way the gentle magic was exiting Yelena's body, now pulsing down through the back of her hips and kneading her thumbs there, “Nothing too painful? Your knots are going, just trying to get your lower back softened.”

She nodded, scrunching her face up and being thankful Wanda couldn’t see, she sucked in a breath and tried everything she could to remain stubborn. “You’re good-“

“Are you sure? I know you're strong Yelena, but if I'm hurting you, I promise I won't be offended or think less of you if you tell me?” The redhead said gently, softening the magic more so it was now like feathers dancing on her insides.

Yelena shook her head, biting back giggles now as she tried to maintain herself, it was absolute torture to do so.

“Oh sweetie you're so tense, are you sure I'm not hurting you?” Wanda said with the most sincere concern as she lightened the magic even more and kneaded her thumbs between her hips and spine, but gently.

“I’m sure, and I’m not a sweetie!” She replied, wiggling around a little now as she arched her back ever so slightly.

Wanda tilted her head, taking the tiniest peak into Yelena's thoughts, she softened a little, and tried to let Yelena play tough, but made the magic that started as a massage, pulse through so it would gently shake her ribs and swirl her tummy, from belly button out, “Okay, if you're sure little widow.” The witch cooed softly.

Yelena blushed at the nickname, letting out a tiny yelp when she felt her bellybutton being fluttered, she tried to push herself into the bed to squish the feeling but to no avail.

“Oh I see,” Wanda smiled, and leaned in, “Is someone….” The witch whispered mischievously, “Ticklish?” And then sent a flurry of gentle magic to poke and explore and swirl Yelena's ticklish spots.

The stubborn spy gasped at the word, now kicking out as she shook her head. “Nope, not at all…” she replied quickly before holding her breath.

“Then why are you holding your breath, giggle bug?” Wanda cooed and spidered into her sides now as two red wiggly woos circled under her armpits, warm gentle magic swirled her belly button, wiggly woos danced on her ribs, and two fluttering woos weaved between her toes.

“Because it was sore?” Yelena tried, slamming her arms against her sides whilst slapping at her hands as she smiled into the pillow discreetly.

“Why are you slapping my hands like you're ticklish?” Wanda cooed knowingly, shaking her fingers into the lower backs of her ribs gently, “Goochiegoochiegoochie goo?”

“Again, because it hurt?” She tried again, still trying to do something to stop her magic as she now grinned into the pillow.

Wanda paused then, “I hurt you?” She asked, making Yelena pause too, unsure about how to go about things now.

The redhead then just sat on Yelena's back, deciding to give Yelena back scritches and tickles. “Maybe this instead?”

“Oh… I guess.” Yelena replied awkwardly, the feeling a little cold to her since she wasn’t completely comfortable around Wanda yet.

The mood change was clear, so Wanda tried the massage magic again, “Maybe I just need to work out these knots more hm?” She pulsed the back of her ribs with the warm magic.

Yelena gasped. “You never hurt me.” She told Wanda quickly, as normally as she could.

“Then what was that gasp?” The redhead smiled fondly and pressed into the backs of her hips, letting her magic gently course through the blonde.

“You simply surprised me…” Yelena told her, biting back another gasp as she scrunched her face up.

“Mhm,” Wanda chuckled and kneaded gently down Yelena's sides and toward her hips, causing the blonde to bite her lip as she arched away from her whilst reaching back and pushing at Wanda's hands.

The witch arched her eyebrow, “Hm? Why push me away? Hurting you….or am I tickling the big bad widow?” She cooed, her voice gentle.

“Nono, not at all…” Yelena replied quietly, a small blush on her face.

“Seems to me I'm tickling you pink,” Wanda whispered and snuck her fingers into the blondes armpits, making her let out a tiny squeal and slam her arms against her sides, shaking her head in protest.

“Awww cmon Yelena, just…let go,” she sent magic into the younger widow's armpits, smirking as Yelena finally let out a few giggles, the fingers and the magic under her arms at the same time broke her.

“Goochiegoochiegoochie goo there's a giggly wittle widow?” She smiled and spidered Yelena's armpits, magic gently pulsing out of them too.

“This isn’t fair!” Yelena protested, kicking her legs out as giggles kept spilling out

Wanda gasped playfully, “It's noooot? Then how about thiiiis?” And sent her magic dancing along Yelena's ribs, thighs, feet and through her belly, “Bougiebougiebougieboo!”

Yelena shook her head, rolling over to grab her hands as her giggles escaped more freely now. “It is nohohohot!”

The redheaded witch used her magic to pin Yelena's hands to the sides, blowing her shirt up just enough to peek her tummy out, and leaned down, “PFFFFT!” And raspberried the widow’s tummy.

“OHOHOHOH FUHUHUHUCK YOHOHOHU!” Yelena laughed, pulling at her arms as she just thrashed her legs about, sucking her belly in at the same time.

Wanda grinned, letting her go, and then cuddling into her, laying gently on top of her with and “Umph.”

She pouted a little, but was thankful to take in deep breaths, unsure about whether to hug Wanda back as she wasn’t sure about affection still with anyone but her big sister.

“You can hug me back,” she smiled and spidered Yelena's armpits so she'd have to bring her arms down. The spy let out a few shy giggles and squeezed her arms against her sides instead.

The witch pouted playfully, “Huuug meeee,” and leaned down and nuzzled her tummy again, causing Yelena to pull her shirt down with a giggle, then awkwardly patted her back.

The witch bit her lip, “It's okay if you don't like hugs,” she assured her gently. Yelena bit her lip too, just not used to the affection, she felt bad for making Wanda feel awkward.

The redhead peered into the mind of the blonde, “Hm…okay,” and hugged her a little tighter, scritching her back gently.

“Huh?” Yelena asked innocently, but relaxed a little more into the feeling with a sigh. The redhead responded by adding her other hand, rolling so Yelena was on top of her now and scritched the slightly younger woman's back all over.

“Hey, I will squish you.” She murmured and went to roll off her.

The witch protested and pinned her gently within a magical hug, “If you leave I tickle you. So..admit you like the tickles or let me cuddle you and admit you like that?” Wanda teased, but her voice was sincere and loving.

Yelena’s eyes widened. “Well it is not like I can move right now…” she replied with an eye roll, but she shyly bit her lip.

She grinned and squeezed Yelena's sides and held her close, “Getchagetchagetcha!” The surprise attack made Yelena squeal as she began giggling immediately, trying to find a way to push her hands.

Wanda paused, laughing lovingly and booped her nose as she gently rocked the blonde, “You seem a bit more comfortable with me?” She asked softly.

Yelena bit her lip, but nodded. “I guess you are not too bad…”

“I'll take that as a compliment!” Wanda beamed.

The blonde just rolled her eyes, staying still and letting the witch embrace her. She may not be completely ready to give affection just yet, but the bonding did make her feel closer to her, physically and emotionally.

#avengers tickle fic #marvel tickle fic #avengers tickle #marvel tickle #ler!wanda #ticklish!yelena

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amaramizuki666 · 1 year ago

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Shared sensation part.6

Danny walked through the main doors of his haunt. His beloved nestled soundly aginst his chest, sleeping peacefully. Danny didnt care that this man was a clone of the soulmate who rejected him. Danny has nothing aginst clones. And elle will be ecstatic to know her new dad is like her.

On a more personal note, danny dosent hold any grudge aginst his darlings original. Sure his previous soulmate may have rejected him but they where kids. And after haveing a few years to think about it, it made since to danny why his previous soulmate would brake their bonds.

Danny isnt stupid he remembers the pain. The pain that his soulmate endured nightly. Danny figured that his soulmate cut the bond to protect him. So sure he dosnt hold any grudges aginst the guy, but he does wish the guy would have talked to danny before destroying the thing danny cherished most. So no, no grudges, hes just a bit bitter.

"Danny your back after than I thought" sam says as she walks up next to him peering over his shoulder to see the boy sleeping s look soundly in his arms. "Damn hes cute, better not fuck this up dumbass" sam states and danny nodded at her words. "I wont be. He is mine and I will keep him by my side" danny says passively as he continues down the windy halls of his haunt.

"And what if he wants to be in the liveing realm? The GIW are still a threat you know" sam says her voice like static as she topic turns to the GIW. "Then we will live in the human world until he is ready to live here, and with the GIW I think I could use a side project. I've let them live far too long" danny says his voice like ice, his haunt bending to his emotions starts to frost over.

"Well ok then be careful, ttyl I got to go meet up with tuck for a gaming sesh" sam says and leaves. She knows when to not push things. She was bad at that before. Always wanting to know, always pushing boundaries. But over time danny relized she was just testing him, to see if he will leave her too. Which fuck that she is one of his fright.

Danny is taken from his inner monologue as he reached the doors to his room. They opend on his command and gently closed themselves behind him.

His room was decently sized. The walls where a dark purple that mixed into the starry sky of his selling. He had a balcony, a vanity, a dresser, a rug with star shapes on it that looked like he bought it from target.

Danny walked over to his large king sized bed and layed his beloved down gently. Danny examined him. Danny looked at the boys shut eyes and peaceful expression. The halfa moved a strand of his loves long raven hair from his face smiling softly.

Danny's eyes trailed down to the bloodied one peice tight black body suit his darling was wearing. Then his eyes traveled down to the silver bracelet clampt tightly to his beloved's wrist.

Danny scowled and reached over grabbing onto the bracelet. He let his ice corse through his palm to a point. He then grappled the bracelet and snapped it. Danny dosnt want his other half to think lesser of himself because of his clone status. Elle whent through that, being in Danny's shadow, and he wants to spare his love the pain.

Danny sighed and stood up walking over to his wardrobe and pulled out an oversized sweater and some black work out tights for his love to change into when he wakes up. Danny would do it for him but he doesn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Ugg" a soft groan echos through the room and danny is beside is bed in moments. He watched (unblinking like a creep) his beloved's azure blue eyes flutter but stay shut.

He can tell his love his takeing stock of his surroundings. He sees as he slows his breath and focuses on his other senses. Danny knows his love noticed him beside him. He love seems to have been trained.

But by who? Did they take him put of his pod occasionally to train him? Or did they stuff knowledge into his brain as they grew him?

"I know your awake" danny says his voice soft yet firm. He sees his loves body stiffen. His core hums with hurt as his loves fear of him. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise" danny says trying to coast his love to stop the charade.

His beloved's azure eyes open and hold his gaze with a glare. One that says try me. "Who are you? what do you want with me?" The man asks firmly, his unwavering gaze feels like a storm at sea ready to drag him to the depths.

A grin tugs on phantoms lips. "I'm danny phantom, king of the dead and never born. And as what I want with you, surely you can feel that for your self, cant you?" Danny says his voice taunting as he rests his hand on his hip.

The man sits up slowly studying danny looking him up and down as if searching desperately for something. Danny waited for his loves replay. "Danny? As in danny Fenton?" The man questions his voice and face lack any emotion. Danny is the opposite his face probably showed the considerable shock he was in. That was not the replay he was expecting to that statement. How did his love know his human name?

Part. 5

#writing prompt #writing #danny phantom #dialogue prompt #danny fenton #dc x dp #dc #dc comics #batfam #my writing #clone tim

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katyawriteswhump · 11 months ago

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Never let me go (Steddie holiday drabble)

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 18, Free Space--Hurt/Comfort.

Steve’s really good at pretending he’s fixed—especially to himself—and decides he’s totally up for kinky fun with Eddie. Also part of my steve whump fic thread on ao3

WC: 922.

Rating: M.

CW: Mild kink and bondage, sexual content, panic attacks, PTSD, flashbacks. Tags: Emotional hurt/comfort. Trauma. Fluff, whump.

***

Eddie draws the tinsel garland around Steve’s arm, looping it loosely before dragging it tighter. Not too tight. Steve swallows hard, nerves fizzing. Eddie tethers Steve’s wrist to the bed frame behind his head with a loopy, hitchy knot.

“Where the heck did you learn—"

“My uncle. He’s worse than a billion scout leaders, I shit you not.” Eddie lazily kisses the tender underside of Steve’s wrist, beneath the knot, setting Steve’s pulse skittering. Eddie shifts his attention to Steve’s other hand. Steve has, without thinking, moved himself into place, ready to be tied. He’s happily drowning in Eddie’s gorgeous eyes, lapping up Eddie's hungry appreciation of him, till…

“You’re sure you’re good with this, Stevie?”

“How many times, dude? I’m fine.” Steve slides his tongue around suddenly dry-feeling lips. “Tinsel is dangerous for cats and babies. I could literally snap this crap in half.”

“You could snap me in half.”

“I dunno. You’re crafty. And deceptively strong.” Steve tugs speculatively at the tinsel. It’s deceptively strong too, and the wire holding it together grooves into his flesh. Clearly breakable, though. If he wanted out.

He doesn’t.

When Eddie confessed a drunken desire to tie Steve to their bed, they’d both been apprehensive—given Steve’s “history,” with Soviets and throttling vines, and the rest of the shitshow. Using tinsel was Steve’s dumb, buzzed-out-of-his-skull idea.

Now, Eddie drags the tinsel across Steve’s bare chest, swirls it over his abs, raising goosebumps in its wake. Eddie’s using black and silver tinsel. “So pretty against your skin,” he purrs. Steve’s eyes flutter closed, because the sensations… Gnng! So good! Also, kinda excruciating. Both too little contact, and too much.

Eddie trails the tinsel lower. Steve’s wearing his boxers, and he moans, whimpers—why isn’t he naked yet? Eddie’s fingers drift down Steve’s leg, and Steve flexes into Eddie’s hand. Eddie spreads Steve’s leg toward the bedpost then crouches beside.

Eddie’s hot breaths scorch his flesh. Steve’s breaths accelerate further. As he binds Steve’s ankle, Eddie’s brows knit in concentration. Why’s that super-hot? Steve’s gotten a semi already, and he’s no clue what Eddie’s gonna do next.

“I better be naked soon, Munson.” Eddie lightly pinches Steve’s inner thigh, a total blindside. “Ow!”

“Patience, Babe. Or I’ll start over with your ass upward.”

Steve smirks: “Only just thought of that, moron?”

“Haha, don’t be a brat. Takin’ this slow. Now, shhhh.”

Steve shudders, frets his lip. Eddie winds the last of the tinsel around Steve’s other leg. This is still fun—right?—and he trusts Eddie. Okay, that nervous stirring in the pit of his stomach persists, but it’s sure as hell exciting. Eddie backs away, and Steve rolls his eyes. “Gonna eat me or fuck me?”

“C’mon on, man. Didn’t I say, ‘Sssssh’?”

“There’s better ways to shut me up.”

The kiss is delicious and deep, and Steve just breeeaaaaks. It’s easy to surrender to this—the hot, thrumming weight of Eddie’s clothed body pressed to his near-nakedness, the slick sweep of Eddie’s tongue, the frisson of tinsel against Steve’s ever-more-sensitive flesh as he fidgets and sighs. He feels wanted, worshipped… and randy as hell.

Eddie breaks the kiss abruptly. Before Steve can whine about it, Eddie presses a finger to his own lips, looking… kinda stressed?

The blood thundering in Steve’s ears calms enough for him to hear the loud knocking on the door.

“Eddie? Steve? Hellloooo!” It’s goddamn Henderson.

“I’ll tell him to scram.” Eddie leaves.

Steve’s breathing speeds up again—his face burns, the rest of his skin feels oddly chilled. Distant voices murmur, an owl hoots, and he’s all alone… and feeling… okay, yeah, vulnerable.

Don’t be a wuss, Harrington. You can break free if you want. It’s candy-ass tinsel.

He tugs at his bonds.

No, don’t spoil the game.

His eyes lull closed, and he’s lost in an instant.

His hands are tightly bound… above his head… no, behind his back? Shit, shit, shit, he’s losing track of everything save his terror. All he knows is he’s struggling, and he can’t get free and the Soviets are gonna hit him again. They just keep hitting him. Shouting in his face. He tastes the blood, and he’s screaming it over and over: “For the millionth time, I work at Scoops Ahoy.”

His raw throat clogs, then closes up. He can’t breathe! The vines… Those goddamn vines. They’re winding about his every limb, slithering, squeezing tight around his neck. His whole existence reduces to a desperate fight for air… I’m choking… drowning… suffocating… Oh God… Oh God! He fights in small, snatchy gasps that he barely believes in. Vecna’s got him, and he’s gonna die, and…

“Steve! Sweetheart, you’re okay… You’re okay… I gotcha.”

“Wha—” Steve’s eyes fly wide. Eddie. Eddie’s here! Leaning over him. Touching him tenderly. Reality slams back, and he throws an arm around Eddie’s neck and clings. Eddie hugs him close, and the whirlwind of his panic slows. His only actual pain is a faint sting in his wrists and ankles, where he’s busted through the tinsel.

“Crap, I’m sorry.” Eddie presses a soft kiss to Steve’s clammy brow. “Leaving you was dumb. The whole idea was dumb.”

“S’okay.” Steve buries his face in Eddie’s shoulder, and his pulse and breaths calm further. “I kinda enjoyed it till…” I totally lost my shit. He slowly inhales Eddie’s warm, reassuring scent. The terrifying flashbacks retreat a little further. He’s okay… He’s okay! As long as Eddie never lets him go, the darkness won’t win.

He nuzzles up toward Eddie’s ear: “Maybe try again next year?”

#steddieholidaydrabbles #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington whump #steve harrington hurt/comfort #eddie x steve #steve harrington x eddie munson

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skzimagines · 1 year ago

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Part one

Characters: Lee know x Reader

Genre: Angst | Friends to lovers | fluff | smut |

Summary: Minho is your best friend. He has been for almost 5 years. Minho never keeps secrets from you, besides the one where he’s madly in love with you. But when your deceiving boyfriend screws you over.. again, he does everything in his power, to win you over.

—————————————————————————————

The tears roll down my face as I look at the picture that was sent to me. It’s a picture of my boyfriend, shoving his tongue down another girls throat at the club. This isn’t the first time either. I thought I loved him, but at this point, I think I’m just scared of being alone. I’m in love with the idea that deep down maybe he does love me. I sigh as I forward the image to Minho, then lock my phone and throw it on my bed.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks, feeling the burning sensation as my hands rub against my face. Great, another week of having a dry cracked face. All because I keep forgiving this guy, just to have my heart broke again. My throat stings and my head is pounding. I grab headache medicine from my bedside table, hoping the tiny tablets will help take some pain away.

I hear my phone vibrate, but completely ignore it, thinking it was my boyfriend trying to get ahold of me and tell me how sorry he is that he fucked up again. My phone goes silent. A few seconds go by and it starts vibrating again. He wouldn’t call me twice. I pick up my phone and see Minhos face lighting up my screen. I answer.

“Hello?” I whisper, scared if I talk any louder than this, my emotions will get the best of me.

“Where are you?” Minho asks, I can hear the pity in his voice. The pity that I just don’t understand why he has. He has been through all of this with me, I really thought he’d be sick of me by now, taking that loser back and getting fucked over, over and over and over again. And every time I do, Minho’s the only person I go to.

“I’m at home.”

“I’m coming over.” He says.

“Minho, it’s alright. It’s late, I was just about to go to bed anyway.”

“Shut up, loser. I’m coming over. Stay awake.” He says.

I groan into the phone. He’s always been stubborn.

“Fine.” I give in.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a bit. Love you.” He says and hangs up the phone.

“Love you too…” I whisper into the phone as if he’s still on the other line and throw my phone back onto my bed, feeling tears fall down my face again.

•

A while passes until I hear Minho ringing my door bell. I get out of bed and make my way to the front door to let him in.

I open the door. “Minho you really didn’t have to…” I stop talking and my eyes go wide. It’s not Minho, it’s my boyfriend standing there, holding a single rose. I quickly try to shut the door but he’s faster. He shoves his foot in front of hit, stopping it from shutting. “Y/n, please let me talk.” He says. “No, I don’t want to hear it. Leave me alone.” I say, trying to shut the door again, but he still hasn’t moved his foot. “Listen to me! Alright? Im sorry! It was and accident!” He yells.

“An accident?” A voice booms from behind him, it’s Minho. In that moment, I’m thanking the gods that he’s here right now. “How the fuck is cheating on her for the 12th time, an accident?” Minho asks, with venom in his voice. Minho makes his way up to the door, hitting him in the shoulder, pushing him out of the way and making his way into the door. “So this is what you’ve been doing behind my back?” My now ex-boyfriend asks. “What are you talking about?” I ask. “You’re bringing him over, when I’m not here?” He says. “Oh fuck you!” I yell. “Fuck me? That’s really rich y/n. You haven’t fucked me in months. Is it because you’ve been fucking him?” He yells. “My life would have been much better if I had started fucking him before I met you!” I yell back. “Alright! Stop, enough.” Minho yells from beside me. He wraps his arm around the front of my chest, pulling me back into my apartment. “You need to get the fuck out of here.” Minho says, grabbing the rose from his hand. “Thanks for the rose, make sure you pass the rest of them out to your other girlfriends.” Minho says, with a smirk and slams the door shut and locking it.

Minho turns around to face me. “You good?” He asks. “I’m good.” I say, making my way into the living room. Minho follows close behind me. “What do we do with this?” He asks, holding up the rose he took from him. “Fucking burn it for all I care.” I say, sitting on the couch.

Minho walks away and returns shortly, opening the door to my balcony. “What are you doing?” I ask. “Burning it!” He says, holding up a lighter. I get up and follow him out onto my balcony. “Minho, we can’t burn this out here!” I say. “Oh hush, it’ll be fine.” He says with a smirk. He holds up the flower and hands me the lighter. “Burn it.” He says.

I flick the lighter, watching the flame rise. Minho holds out the flower toward me and I set the flame against it. We both watch as the flower engulfs in flames, and ashes to the ground.

Finally, the rose is nothing but ashes. Minho and I look at each other, bursting into laughter and falling into one another. “That may have been the cheesiest shit we’ve ever done.” I say. “No, the cheesiest thing we’ve ever done was definitely the time at the beach when we agreed to marry each other if we were still single by the time we’re thirty.” He laughs. “Well, by the looks of it… I think we’ll be getting married.” I sigh, smiling at him. He chuckles and pulls me in for a hug. He rubs my back in circular motions.

“Everything will be alright. I’m always here.” He whispers in my ear. I nod, taking in his scent. He always smells so good. I pull away and lean over the railing of the balcony, to stare up at the stars. Minho copies me.

“So, one question.” He says.

I look at him and hum in response.

“Is what you said earlier true?” He asks with a smirk.

“What did I say earlier?” I ask, giving him a confused look.

“About how your life would be better if you were fucking me before him.” He smiles while biting his lip.

My heart drops.

—————————————————————————————

Part 2 here

Tag list: @yumiblogs @chubbyanarkiss @chansbabygirlsstuff @multeciahucho @nhyunn

#lee know x reader #lee know #lee Minho #lee know smut #lee know imagine #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #Bangchan #Changbin #hyunjin #hanjisung #Seungmin #Felix #jeongin #i.n

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christopher-bangnaldoskzz · 1 year ago

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Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving), orgasm denial. sexual content included I am going to say this is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary:A sub needs a dom, a dom wants a sub but what happens when feelings overlap with contracts and love creeps in? Will a contract remain only a contract? Or are emotions like love too hard to keep in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath , thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Also thank you so much for writing my summary xx

Chan pov

Her body lay on the bed, unable to move. “She shouldn’t have challenged me,” I thought.

Watching her lay there, however, sends a shiver down my spine. I’m filled with a strange mixture of emotions. On the one hand, I feel powerful that I was able to render her unable to move. On the other hand, I feel a deep connection with her, one that’s almost instinctive. I can sense her desire for me, and I can’t help but feel drawn to her. “Come and shower with me,” I whisper in her ear before kissing her soft skin.

“Or can you not even walk to the shower?” I laughed, knowing full well I had never fucked anyone like I just did y/n.

“Ha funny…..I can walk." She scoffs, determined; her legs are shaky as she stands off the bed. Worried she might fall suddenly, I hover my hands over her hips as she walks to the ensuite.

She must have seen me in the mirror because a laugh escaped her mouth. “Channie, I’m okay”, she continued giggling.

“Oh…I-uh” I'm embarrassed that she caught me, my face becomes pink.

“Sorry,” I say, stepping back.

She giggles, but I get so intoxicated by her perfectly curved body that I forget why I am here.

“Channie”, she clears her throat.

"Mmm," I said, snapping out of my trance; the blood was no longer rushing back down to my dick.

“Could you, um, turn the shower on?” She laughed.

“Oh right, haha…sorry,” I brush my hand along her lower back. As I turn the water on, I feel goosebumps on her skin.

A small smile forms on her face sending my heart racing in my chest; how could one person's smile make me feel this way?

I wait for the water to warm up; once the steam fills the shower, I open the door, place my hand on Y/N's lower back, and escort her into the shower.

Honestly, I have no plans. I just wanted an excuse to keep her close to me, and a shower was all I could think of.

I can’t help but look down at the water trickling down her skin; all I want to do is pin her to the shower wall and fuck her stupid. However, watching her hiss as the water hits her sensitive area makes me feel guilty enough already. The sensation of her skin beneath my fingertips is more enticing than any fantasy I can conjure, and yet I resist, knowing that she is too overstimulated to enjoy it.

"Are you okay?" I asked in a low tone, trying to gauge her pain level by looking at her facial expressions.

“I’m okay, haha…just shocked me”, she smiled so sweetly.

Y/N pov

“Fuck”, you think to yourself as the water flushes through your lips, making you hiss at the sensation.

“Are you okay?” He looked distressed.

“I’m okay, haha…just shocked me”, you replied; the truth was you’d never been overstimulated to the point you could barely walk before.

Chan's fingers caress your side as he leans in and brushes his lips against yours. You felt your heart race as Chan's touch sent a wave of electricity through your body. You felt like you were melting and could hardly contain yourself; it was a feeling you had never experienced before. “I will never get sick of these lips”, he whispers to you, brushing his thumb across the area where your lips meet.

You crack a smile before you gently kiss his lips. “What was that for?” His eyes were still shut.

“For being so sweet,” you giggle as he grabs your hips pulling you in. His lips attack your neck playfully.

“Chan…stop it”, you giggle as he places light kisses down your neck.

“You have the cutest laugh” he continues to trace his lips across your jawline.

…….

As you’re about to walk out of the shower, you hear, “Wait” Chan shuffles his way out of the shower and wraps a towel around his hips.

“Okay,” he says, pulling your towel off the hook and walking over to the shower to help wrap it around you.

Kissing you just below your ear as he wraps it around your body.

………

“I should go to bed”, you mumble; cuddling with Chan on the couch quickly becomes your favourite pastime.

“You sure? Can I entice you to stay?” He kisses your shoulder, slowly making his way up to your neck.

“Goodnight, Channie,” you say as you get up from the couch; you turn to look at Chan pouting on the couch.

Then he suddenly gets up and starts following you to your room. “You're driving me crazy…you know that, right?” He smiles, leaning against your doorframe.

Your cheeky smile spreads across your face as you ask”Am I”, knowing he can't cross past the line.

You slowly close the door in Chan's face, hearing him grow as the door gets locked.

“Oh, you are so getting punished tomorrow”, you hear as he heads down to his bedroom.

…..

Sunday morning

You wake up to the smell of pancakes and coffee.

Excited for breakfast, you hop up and walk out of your room with your pjs still on.

"Good morning, sir”, you smile as he is cooking up some pancakes. You sit on the kitchen bench as Chan pours some more batter into the pan.

“How did you sleep?” He says, flipping the pancakes over.

“I slept so good” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Do you feel okay?” You assume he meant from the multiple orgasms he gave you last night.

“I feel fine”, you smile. Chan scoffs at your comment.

“Sooooo pancakes, yum!" you said, attempting to grab one off the plate.

Chan grabs your hand before you reach the plate. “I only make pancakes for good girls.”

Your eyes widen as you remember last night when you thought it would be funny to close the door in Chan's face. You gulp as he suddenly cages you in with his body. “Did you think I would forget about last night?”

Chan's hand slowly traces your inner tights as he spends your legs apart, settling his body between them. You can feel his anger radiating off him as he stares down at you, his hands tightening around your waist. His eyes search your face for any sign of remorse, his lips thin, straight line. You can't help but feel a little relieved when you see a spark of desire in his gaze, replacing his anger with something else.

His fingers pull your underwear to the side and Chan pushes your body down so your back is now touching the cold bench. Chan's tongue traces your pussy up to your clit sucking slightly, a moan escapes your mouth. You couldn’t help but squeeze his head between your legs as a flash of pleasure rushed through your body. Chan chuckled, causing a vibration against your clit, arching your body further into his mouth. Chan spends your legs wider as he continues to eat your heat. His eyes lock with yours as his lips suck on your clit. You can't help but let out a moan as Chan's skilled tongue sends pleasure shooting through your body. His eyes remain locked with yours as he increases his ministrations, widening your legs and focusing on your clit with an intensity that leaves you quivering.

“I think last night you forgot who you belong to, baby girl” his stare intensified as he flicked your clit with his tongue.

Your eyes start to go hazy as you begin to reach your bliss. Into your center, he mumbled, "Who do you belong to?".

“You”, you moan softly.

“Again…. Repeat it,” his tongue circling your entrance, causing you to verge on the edge of orgasm.

“You, sir”, you moan as you run your fingers through his hair, ready for his commands to let you cum.

Then he stops and all the sensations of your orgasm fade away. He lets go of you entirely. His sudden lack of touch leaves you feeling empty and desperate for his touch, the feeling of his hands on your body and the sensation of pleasure that his touch brings. You feel a mix of confusion, anticipation and desire, not knowing what will happen next.

“Good, now let’s eat”, he smiles as he pulls your nightgown back down, helping you off the bench before he starts plating up your pancakes.

Your body aches for the high chan has denied you. Still sitting at the table, you quickly become excited about the delicious cinnamon pancakes Chan has made for you.

“Coffee?” Chan says, pouring you a cup.

“Yes, please,” you say with a big grin.

…….

CHAN POV

It took all my strength not to finish her off on the kitchen bench; her moan will fill my head long after she’s gone today.

“Okay, I have to go”, she says, grabbing her keys as she walks out of her bedroom in a sexy little black dress.

“Oh okay….so early?” I said, looking over at the clock.

“I know. I’m sorry, Jill wants Noah and me there early for this meeting,” she says. God, she looks stunning, all dressed in her tight dress that barely covers her lower thigh.

“Well, I have a busy week ahead….with the comeback happening, so I won’t be able to see you until Friday,” I said, hopping off the couch and walking towards her.

She places her hands on my shoulders and leans in to kiss me. “I’ll text you later”, she says before her lips brush against mine.

I make sure to squeeze her hips before she pulls away. “Bye, Channie”, she smiles as she walks out my front door.

……..

Thursday

“Hey guys,” I said, walking into the studio.

“Where the fuck have you been,” changbin says as I sit down.

I laugh, trying to deflect the question, “You’ve been with that girl, haven’t you?”

“I told you….that didn’t work out,” I said, placing my laptop on the desk, ready for our final comeback meeting with our manager.

“Well, I don’t believe you…” he grumbled as he opened up his laptop.

I hear my phone vibrate.

notification Grace

I’ll have to answer her later when Changbin is less suspicious of me.

Y/N POV

Tuesday morning

“Fuck what am I going to do?” You pace your apartment, waiting for Grace's response.

It had finally set in that within the next 3 weeks, you would have no job, no money, and no apartment. "Fuck", you repeat, taking your phone out to call Grace.

“Hey baby," she says, all bubbly.

“Grace,” you say on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong?” Her tone changed immediately.

The words seem almost to choke you as you say, "I umm... Jill is closing the store.". That store had been your life for nearly 7 years.

"WHAT?" she yelled.

“What am I going to do, Grace?…no one’s going to want to hire me” Tears form in your eyes as Grace goes silent on the other line.

“Gracie?” You say Grace only remains silent as she comes up with a plan.

“I’ll fix this,” she says as she hangs up the phone.

….

About 30 minutes later, Grace calls you again.

“Hello,” you said, trying not to sound like you had just spent the last 30 minutes crying.

“I spoke to Amie. You can move in with us.”

“What! Gracie, I can’t do that” You didn’t want to intrude on their space.

“Oh, stop it…you are moving in. End of story.”

“But grace..." she cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

“Shut up… I said you’re moving in with us, and that’s final." Your body shivers at her command.

“Thank you, Grace” Out of all the people that knew you, Gracie was always the first person to jump in to help you after your last dom kicked you out, Gracie had been kind enough to find you this apartment, but the truth was you had always struggled with money due to the high rent. Without this job, you can not afford to live here.

“Have you told Chris yet?” The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.

“No….he’s stressed with work. I can’t do that to him.”

“He basically knows everyone in Seoul Y/N….he could find you a new job tomorrow” truth was you didn’t want to rely on Chan, yes, he was your master, but he’s not your boyfriend. This thing you have with him is strictly a dom and sub-relationship, nothing more.

“I don’t need Chris’s help”, you snarl.

“Hey…watch your tone. I’m trying to help”, she growled back.

You quickly snap out of your attitude. “Let me try first”, you say in a softer tone.

Chan POV

Thursday

“Come on,” I think as I sit through this long-ass meeting.

“Okay, well, thank you for your time today…. As he leaves, we are all hoping for a successful comeback,” our manager says.

I pull out my phone and open Grace's messages. “Have you spoken to Y/N today?” Panic instantly washes over me. What’s wrong? Has something happened to her?

I find myself hitting the call button. She picks up within three rings. “Grace…is everything okay?” She could hear the panic in my voice.

“Clam down…she obviously hasn’t told you then.”

“Told me what?” I excuse myself from the room.

“The shop is closing….have you spoken to her this week?” I could feel the eye roll through the phone.

“I’ve been busy with comeback… what do you mean the shop is closing?….”

“Chan, she has no job…soon she’ll have no money and no apartment” I never thought a sentence could make me feel so useless. How could I have missed this?

“When did you find out?” I must have had a sharp enough tone to make Grace's voice shake.

“Sunday”

“Right….I’ll fix it” I could hear Grace trying to say something, but I hung up the phone.

My blood started to boil at the thought of Y/N not feeling safe enough with me to call or even text me that she was struggling; what kind of a dom am I to not even check in on her.

“Changbin,” I say, walking back into the meeting room. “I have to go,” I said, collecting my laptop.

“Girl problems?” He said jokingly

I ignore him as I swing the strap over my shoulder and walk out of the boardroom.

“Something like that,” I say as I walk out before he can ask a follow-up question.

Y/N pov

Thursday

knock knock

Wondering who it could be at the door, you stop what you’re doing to open it.

“Channie,” you say, shocked that he’s not at work right now, considering he sent you his schedule.

“I thought we were a team”, he frowned.

“What?…. Why are you here?” You said the excitement builds in your body over the last couple of days you have started to miss the affection from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?…” chan steps into your apartment, before you know it he has you pinned against the wall. “I thought you felt safe with me” he whispers into your ear.

He pulls back and walks over to your coffee table placing his laptop bag down.

“Let me guess…..Gracie?” You rolled your eyes as you shut the door.

“Why didn’t you call me….I can fix this” he turned walking towards you.

"I dont want you to think im just using you" you looked down, chans finger lifts your chin as his eyes flick between you lips and eyes. He smiled softly, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Your not using me. I want to help you. Please let me fix this.” He leaned in and lightly brushed his lips against yours in a sensual kiss. You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin and the electricity of the moment as your lips met. He pulled away and lightly touched your lips with his tongue. You felt the electricity surge through your veins as he deepened the kiss. His hands were warm and strong against your skin as he pulled you closer.

"Move in with me." You felt the world stop for a moment as you considered his offer. You wanted to say yes, but something inside you held you back. You pulled away and looked into his eyes, a decision forming in your mind.

"I’m not going to do that," you replied, placing your hand on his chest.

His breath on your neck sends goosebumps down your spine as he whispers, "Let me pay your rent.".

“I can’t let you do that either….besides Grace has already offered for me to move in with her and Amie" he growls as he places a light kiss on your neck.

“Grace should know better than to fuck with what’s mine” His possessiveness is evident in his words, and his protective nature is clear. He doesn't want anyone else getting close to you, and he is not afraid to make that known.

The heat passes through your body as Chan uses his fingers to trace up your inner thigh. His possessiveness makes you so horny, his claim over you makes your heart beat faster.

"Is now a bad time to tell you i got you a job at the company?" You jolt at the words and Chan stops his movements. "What? You got me a job?" You ask in disbelief. " I told you let me take care of you.....Move in with me" he says again.

"your not going to let me move in with Gracie are you?"

"I’ve got my lawyer drawing up a new contract" he smiles.

“Chan" you say playfully hitting his chest.

"what i have some things i want him to add anyway" he grins, your mind wondering at the potential. things he could add to his already perfect contract.

A/N: Thank you so so much, i am loving this series so please comment like and reblog to help me gain the motivation to continue bahah:)

Taglist: @bellamuerte1987 @nightrayseishina @9900z @armystay89 @dreamstarsandskz @raven-skz95 @fosfopirite @neyangi @princesspanda16 @krishastumblernow @agnes-king @bangtanmix73 @djeniryuu @calicanbeevil @khemrose @fawnpeaks @missrobyn81 @dreambelieveinme @umbreonwolfy @jisungiexx @scarletrosesposts @choisoorin @izzathequeen @binnies-minsung-fanclub @jetblackbelle @bunnyxoxodarling @berryberrytan @sky-outta @zerefdragn33l @shiningnono @tinys0ftie @goblin-waifu @zinnichong @tuggybug @nokacchan @amaranth-writing @seungbinis @jisunglover3409 @kimseungminsprincess @uwuitsjungwoo

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farfromstrange · 1 year ago

Note

Helloooo, ❤️❤️❤️

I had an idea for a little fluff piece.

Reader has a secret (she sleeps with a teddy bear from her childhood that brings her comfort) and she wants to tell Matt but she isn't sure how is he going to react.

Maybe then Reader forgets her teddy bear at Matt's apartment and he cuddles with it while she isn't there.

Also, I love your fics 😍😍😍 they always make smile on good and bad days alike. 💕💕💕💕

Sidenote: How is this man so cute and hot at the same time???? 😍😍😍💕💕💕💕

HIII 🥰 (opening my inbox to this gif was truly a gift. I feel like he’s staring into my soul). You’re literally so sweet and I was so happy to read this request because let’s be honest, don’t we all have a stuffed animal that we always keep with us? (Mine’s this pillow shaped as a seal and I called him ‘Robbie’). I loved this request so much and I just hope I could do it justice. I put my own spin on it. I hope you like it, darling! (side note: That last gif took me out completely, it's not fair how adorable he is while also looking like a snack I could easily bite into).

Emotional Support Teddy Bear | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You have a fluffy, brown secret that you forget at Matt's apartment one night. When you come to retrieve it, you find him cuddled up with your teddy bear.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/n: If you guys have a stuffed animal, please tell me what you named them because I've been naming mine ever since I found out how names work (and I do the same to my plants). If you reblog, put it in the tags or something. Anyway, I hope I managed to somehow get this request right and that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

When you tell people you have a secret, they often suspect something darker to be brewing beneath the surface. A forbidden relationship, a secret job, or maybe even some literal skeletons in your closet. Like, the dead bodies kind.

It’s no secret that people like to speculate. But your secret is far from being dark and gloomy. The only reason it is even a secret is the embarrassment that often follows the truth. It’s not you who’s embarrassed, but other people like to judge and laugh, and sometimes it’s easier to keep your mouth shut than open a can of worms over something that’s not even worth being talked about because, to you, it’s normal.

Your secret’s name is quite literally Mr. Bear. You gave him that name when you were in elementary school when he just happened to lie under the tree one Christmas morning. That teddy bear is one of the few things that still connect happy memories to your childhood. You have a special connection, and ever since you found your name on the package all those years ago, you haven’t been able to ban him from your bed. Everywhere you go, you make sure that brown, fluffy teddy bear is somewhere in your bag, so when you go to bed, you can take it out and have a good night’s rest.

You’ve been in a relationship with Matt for a while now. Most of your boyfriends from before laughed when they found out about the teddy bear and often told you to leave him in your bag because they found it weird, and a lot of your friends have told you the same thing - although you can’t possibly understand what would be so weird about a lifeless stuffed animal that you like to take to bed with you and use as a second pillow to sleep.

Your fear of his reaction has prompted you not to tell your boyfriend about your childhood friend. At first, you thought his blindness would be perfect to hide that you’re holding a teddy bear whenever you stay over at his place, but then you found out that the innocent blind man has heightened senses and is pretty much perceptive when it comes to foreign sensations in and around his apartment. Still, up until now, you’ve managed to hide your fluffy secret every night you have spent over at his place. You’re playing with fire, or at least it feels that way.

Matt is a very cuddly person and it is often you that ends up as his personal teddy bear. You don’t mind. It is nice to have someone to hold onto during the night, but there is just something about your beloved Mr. Bear that makes you crave him next to you. The teddy is always in your bag, but it’s only on nights Matt is out the entire night that he wanders into your bed. When he is on patrol around Hell’s Kitchen and you get anxious and lonely, and you worry about the man you love coming home bloody and bruised, you take out your teddy bear and cuddle with him until you can find a few hours of rest. He hasn’t noticed or told you so far because, by the time he comes home in the early hours of the morning, right before sunrise, you have woken up from the sound of the floorboards creaking and the bear lands back in your bag.

You sleep well with Matt beside you, but the nights you can be alone and have your little secret in bed beside you still hold a different weight and mean a lot to you. They don’t mean more; you love your boyfriend and everything he does, but there is a deeper meaning behind your attachment to that fluffy teddy bear that you hold to a different standard, and you can’t deny that there are nights when you wish you could just tell Matt what you’re carrying and what you want to have next to you (alongside him, of course.) But no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bring yourself up to tell him.

He would be more upset if you told him you killed someone, that much you know, but your definitions of what’s hard to tell the other are worlds apart. On Valentine’s Day, Matt acted as if forgetting to buy you flowers had been the end of the world, and you didn’t even notice it was Valentine’s Day until your co-worker reminded you. You know he would never judge the use of a teddy bear for emotional support, God knows he has his own ways to deal with his issues that are far more complicated than a stuffed animal, but you’re still scared and you’re still holding back.

After another night spent at your boyfriend’s place, you make your way home for a change of clothes and to get ready for an important work meeting the next day, which means you will be spending your night at your apartment, alone. You cook yourself a nice dinner, take a shower, read through your notes, and then head to bed, your skin feeling refreshed from the lengthy skincare routine you chose to bless yourself with. You check your phone as you slide under the covers. ‘City’s not busy tonight. Going home early. - Matt’ Reading his words makes you feel a little relieved and you settle into the pillows. It only takes you a minute or two until you realize something is missing, and it is not in your bag or behind your pillows like it usually is.

Your eyes snap open. “Oh, crap!”

At the other end of the city, Matt is making his way through his apartment. It feels empty and much colder without you there. Tonight, he didn’t come home with a lot of cuts, more scrapes, and bruises that he could take care of by himself. It seems as if the criminals of Hell’s Kitchen are using the summer heat to do something else entirely with their free nights. He hasn’t come home so early in a while and he kind of wishes you were there with him so he could have someone to cuddle, and your heartbeat always manages to drown out the noise of the city that lurks behind the closed window.

Grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen, Matt finds himself stumbling over something. He has his apartment memorized, and whatever his toes bumped into wasn’t there before. He puts the glass down and gradually touches his way forward, reaching down to touch the fluffy object that almost caused him to fall flat on his ass. Part of him suspects your hairbrush or a piece of your clothing because it smells like you and you tend to get messy, especially when you leave your bags standing in various corners of the apartment; something always manages to fall out, and then you knock on his door the next day, smiling sheepishly and admitting that you oh so miraculously lost something at his place only to end up staying a few days. Maybe it’s one of those things. Something you can live without for a day or two but gives you a reason to visit him unprompted, but you both know that you never need a reason to appear at his apartment. If anything, Matt needs to finally ask you to move in. It would make things so much easier.

When his hands envelop the small object though, he realizes that it’s not a hairbrush or anything else he’s heard you use before. It is a fluffy teddy bear with embedded eyes, and he can tell from touching it that it is a few years old, maybe decades, but it smells like you, your apartment, and your childhood bedroom that he got to visit once after meeting your parents. There is nostalgia glued to the teddy bear. You smell different during days than you smell during nights, and the stuffed animal carries the scent of your body lotion and toothpaste, blurring nights and mornings together. His shirts often smell like that after you’ve borrowed them for a couple of days and return them unwashed, knowing he thrives off of the pure essence of your skin. He does not doubt that you sleep with that teddy bear, and as he takes another whiff, he recognizes the laundry detergent that usually washes his sheets. You have slept with the same teddy bear in his bed, probably on nights he was absent before, and it warms his heart as well as breaks it at the same time.

If you sleep with it and it smells so much like you, you probably miss it, and this could not have been a purposeful mishap.

At first, he considers calling a cab and taking it to you, but then he stops and contemplates. You have never told him before and maybe there is a reason for it, so taking it to you personally could mean crossing boundaries you might not want him to cross. And he misses you dearly; the teddy bear smells so much like you, he soon finds himself burying his nose in the fluffy fabric and breathing you in. It’s soft and he’s sure it is more than comfortable to sleep with, just like you are. You are going to come knocking tomorrow and search for your teddy bear. Maybe you will tell him, maybe you won’t, but there is not much he can do in the middle of the night. You’re probably already asleep.

He’s trying to somehow glorify his own decision, but then again, you would call him or come over if it were that serious. Matt takes your teddy bear to bed that night. He lays down and cuddles the stuffed animal to his chest, inhaling your scent. He’s not sure why you haven’t told him about it before, but it turns out to be a great cuddling partner in his time of need.

He falls asleep faster than usual, his arms wrapped tightly around the teddy bear as his face disappears in the fake fur. He dreams of you and your warm body close to his, a sunny morning with breakfast in bed and a shared shower. He dreams of cuddling you all day and perhaps spending a day in the park afterward, but never once letting go of your soft hand in his.

You have a key to his apartment. You considered taking the subway at three in the morning to get to his side of town, but you value your life and the lecture Matt would have given you should rather stay a fragment of your imagination. So after your eight o’clock meeting, you head to his apartment which is surprisingly close to your place of employment. He is supposed to be at work on a Wednesday morning at nine. You feel safe when you gently unlock the door and step inside, expecting to find the place empty as your boyfriend is probably in his office right now, having coffee with Foggy and complaining about the lack of a caseload.

You were wrong.

The floorboards creak under your shoes. You can already tell there is a silhouette behind the closed bedroom door. Carefully, you slide it open, not finding your teddy bear where you remember having placed your bag the other day. The milky glass slides to the side and you are met with a sight that both surprises you and instantly melts your heart in the process.

Matt is lying in his bed, at half past nine in the morning, and he is fast asleep with the teddy bear you’ve been searching for cradled comfortably in his arms. His mouth is slightly agape, there is drool hanging at the corner of his mouth, and the worried crease between his eyebrows is almost completely gone. He has his nose buried in the stuffed animal, and he looks as content as ever.

Tangled in the sheets, Matt feels safe and secure. The teddy bear still feels like you. He’s unaware of his surroundings, unaware of the time and the fact that you are now sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with awe in your beautiful eyes.

You reach out to stroke his hair. He stirs. “Matty,” you murmur.

He slowly blinks to life.

“Matthew, my love. Good morning…”

Matt smiles at the sound of your voice, but then the symphony of the city sounds crashes in and he realizes that he is no longer dreaming. He says your name, his voice barely above a whisper, and then finally opens his eyes.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

You chuckle softly. “I should ask you the same thing.”

“Day off.”

“Oh.”

“No cases.”

“Well, my meeting ran short, so I came here,” you say. Your eyes switch to the teddy bear in his arms and your cheeks flush a bright red. “‘Cause I forgot something.”

Knowingly, he smiles back at you. ”You did?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because this is probably the first time a woman has ever left her teddy bear at your place. It’s embarrassing.” You grab Mr. Bear from his clutches and get up, hugging the teddy bear to your chest. “So I’m sorry. For that.”

He lifts his head and slowly sits up, his shirtless frame moving up against the headboard. You stare at him, your gaze unwavering. Matt holds out his hand, urging you to come closer, but you refuse.

“It’s not embarrassing,” he says.

“It kind of is though.”

“No, sweetheart, it’s not. It’s a teddy bear.”

“Exactly.”

He sighs. “You’re right, this is the first time someone has left a teddy bear at my place.”

Your lips twirl up into an embarrassed yet triumphant smile.

“But,” he says, his unfocused eyes searching for yours as he runs his fingers through his brown locks, “I have also never been more in love with you.”

“Wait what?” you frown.

“Adults can have teddy bears too, and the fact that you have something to offer you comfort at night is adorable.”

You take slow steps toward him and he doesn’t hesitate to pull you down next to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“It smells like you,” he admits, “which is why I slept with it, and I get it. It’s soft. I have you as my personal teddy bear, but who’s to say you can’t have an actual teddy bear at home? It holds childhood memories, doesn’t it?”

You nod shyly.

“And people have laughed at you for it?”

“Ever since I was a child,” you tell him.

“Well, fuck ‘em. It’s cute. I just want to know, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was embarrassed.” You play with your teddy bear’s ears. “And because I didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t enough for me by saying ‘Oh, by the way, I need my teddy bear to sleep’. It just felt weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Matt assures you. His smile is bright as he leans down to kiss you. “So don’t be embarrassed.”

“You mean it?” You look up at him with hopeful eyes.

He nods and takes the teddy bear from you. “In fact, I think we should share it,” he says.

“Share it?” Your embarrassment and nerves fly out the window and you find yourself giggling at his suggestion. “Are you serious?” you ask.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never had a teddy bear… and as I said, it smells like you.”

And you know how much he loves your scent.

You curl into him, his nose instantly moving to rub against your scalp, smelling your shampoo and conditioner from the night before. He sighs happily, still holding the teddy bear, and it seems as if he’s not ready to give it back.

“I’ll buy you a teddy bear, Matty.”

“What?”

“You said you never had one, so I’ll get you one.”

“Well, why can’t I have yours?”

You tear the teddy bear out of his hands. “Because it’s mine, and I am very territorial about my emotional support teddy bear.”

He pouts. “I thought I was your emotional support teddy bear.”

“Yeah,” you say, using the few minutes you have left to cuddle closer to him, “and I am very territorial about that one too.”

Matt chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “I can live with that,” he says.

When you come home that night, you’re carrying a bouquet in one hand and a gift bag in the other. He frowns, but as soon as he feels the fluffy object inside, his grin widens. It has horns and a tail, a little too on the nose, but he smiles nonetheless.

“It’s a dinosaur,” you tell him. “Because you once told me you loved dinosaurs as a kid. And if you want, I’ll sleep with it a few nights so it’ll smell like me.”

He wraps his arms around you in an instant. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you.”

Needless to say, from that moment on, you will both be going to sleep with your emotional support teddy bears (or dinosaurs) every night.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #daredevil #matt murdock x you #lizzi answers #request #oneshots #no y/n #daredevil x reader #fluff #x reader #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic #reader insert #matt murdock imagines #human disaster matt murdock #stuffed animals are the best emotional support at night i stand by that

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