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scoutswritingcorner · 3 months

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Formal Disappearance

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: None

Song(s) I was listening to: Head Over Heels/Broken by Tears for Fears

A/N: I want more flustered Alastor guys. If I have to make it so be- Let me fluster the deer man.

Alastor looked around the room as Charlie explained her new “bonding exercise”, his gaze sweeping over the crew that was all here..Something was missing- No, someone was missing from the gathering. His sweet Doe was missing, how did he not notice this earlier? In fact he hasn’t seen you all day. The last time he saw you was last night when you were hiding your reddened face as you laughed at his joke. His ever wandering eyes snapping towards Husk causing the old tom cat to flinch and bristle up causing his smile to flicker for a second, before grinning wider. Oh, he knew something. “Husker, my dearest friend, do you have something to share with me?” Alastor tilted his head as he turned to face the bartender.

“Me? Nope, I don’t have anything to say.” Husk responded not meeting his eyes. Alastor’s eye twitched as his ears fell back against his head, his clawed finger tapping on his cane. His patience was running thin, he hated being apart from you for this long. But he would never mutter it out to a soul, his pride was far too big for that. “Know what?” Charlie asked, smiling tensely, she hoped this wouldn’t turn into a whole thing. Alastor glanced at her but didn’t answer her as Husk flinched from his sharp gaze. “They had to go do something for their job.” Husk answered quickly causing Angel to smirk, “They looked smoking, Smiles. You should’ve seen them before they left.” The comment made Alastor snap his neck back towards Angel Dust who flinched and backed away muttering an apology.

“Oh! They had a huge formal event for their job today, that’s why they aren’t here right now. They had left early in the morning while you were doing a broadcast. They didn’t want to bother you but they said they left a note in your room.” Charlie explained clapping her hands together causing Alastor to hum loudly, so that’s what the note was for this morning. Well, what’s a few more hours without you by his side? He wasn’t desperate for your attention,

~~~~~

It had been four hours (possibly even more) since you had been gone and Alastor was struggling to even be near the others, his temper was getting to him and he missed you oh so dearly. He missed your smile and how your voice seemed to travel through the hotel like one of his favorite songs. He couldn’t even focus on the paper in front of him, what was keeping you this long at this so called formal event? He let out a soft growl watching as his own shadow pulled his focus on the wall in front of him. A lovestruck smile on the pesky shadow as it pointed towards the foyer of the Hotel. He stared at the shadow with an eyebrow raised confused on why his own shadow was acting like this.

Then like a siren song piercing through the silence he heard your voice echo, “I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t expect it to take that long. I thought it would be an hour or two at best.” Your voice echoed down to the parlor causing him to immediately stand up from his spot on the armchair in front of the fireplace. His ears happily flickering as he heard your precious laughter echo after a few seconds of soft whispers. He hurriedly made his way towards the front foyer of the Hotel ignoring how his Shadow dashed after his long strides. If his undead heart could beat, it would surely be racing at this point just at the thought of seeing you after hours, his tense smile now becoming relaxed at hearing your voice.

Looking up from the bottle of water in your hand at the shadow of your boyfriend curling around your own before. “Dearest!~ There you are and here I thought you had run away fro-” His voice stopped suddenly like a broken record as he gazed at your form. How absolutely darling you looked all dressed up. How your outfit clung to you from the necklace you were wearing (specifically the one he had gotten you a few weeks back) complimented your whole outfit perfectly.

A dark red blush creeped up his neck to his cheeks as his ears laid back on his head. Noticing how you stared at him, a small smirk on your lips as you tilted your head. “What’s wrong, Dear? Don’t you like my outfit?” You teased, causing him to look away with a dark blush coating his cheeks and glaring at the wall as if it offended him. Angel snickered and turned his gaze back to Husk, “I think Smiles adores it a little too much, Toots.” An almost feral snarl leaving your Beau’s lips at hearing Angel point that out. You walked closer, holding your hand out to him. “Don’t worry, Dear. I saved one last dance for you.”

Alastor looked down at you, blush still prominent on his cheeks but he grabbed your hand and leaned down to kiss your knuckles, “Only if you’d have me, Cher.” He whispered out only for you to hear. A soft smile gracing your lips, you nodded at his request. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dear.” He swore his tail was about to create a hole in his jacket from the way it wagged so fast, linking your arms together he walked you to another part of the hotel to dance the night away.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 months

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Hi! I don't know if you are open to requests and if you're not completely ignore this request!!

Could I get a drabble/one-shot of Husk or Alastor finding their wife from the living world has come to the hotel? Like this is their first time seeing her after many years? Thank you and I Hope you have a good day/night!!

A/n: I'm gonna do both!

Husk:

It was that stupid fucking smirk that pissed him off, why did that prick look so fucking smug?! "What the fuck are you looking at?"

Alastor hummed turning his back to the cat demon as he waved him off. "I know something you don't know."

"What the fu-."

His name, his real name that he hadn't heard in years from a voice that still remains in his mind echoed through out the bar. His eyes went wide taking in the appearance of the new inhabitant of the Hotel.

Expect she wasn't new, oh god she wasn't new. Taking a hesitant step forward, he never thought he would see you again. His wife, his lovely wife.

It did not take long for him to pull you in his arms, his chest heaving as he desperately clung to you. Even with your broken wings you were still beautiful.

Pulling back slightly, Husk's ears flattened on his head. A deep purr leaving his chest as he looked into your eyes. "I know I ain't much to look at."

Shaking your head, you didn't care. After living in Heaven for so long you finally found the love of your life. "Who are you kidding, you still handsome." Sighing you buried your face into his chest to listen to his heart beat. "Know matter what you are I will always love you."

"I never stopped loving you...my angel."

Alastor:

He was trying to ignore what ever Charlie was blabbering about, something about a new inhabitant to the hotel....someone for him to exploit? Well lets just see how naive they really are.

Though the moment he spotted them, he felt his smile twitch. This had to be some cruel joke, a punishment. You did not belong here! you were to pure for hell, to kind!

It was a mistake, it had to be a mistake. "I don't know who you are but go back to where you came from! I should just rip you apart for taking the visage of my wife!"

You could feel the tears sliding down your cheeks as you took a step forward. But with every step you took forward he took on back and soon his back hit the wall. Ears twitching back and forth, you could see his hand gripping that cane tight in his grasp.

You had to make him see it was you, so you hummed, you hummed that song he sang to you on your wedding night, the song he would sing to to your anniversary, the one he sang the night you were killed.

You let your hand glide across his cheek, you could see the smile wavering as he finally took you into his arms.

"You came back to me." He whispered into your neck.

Nuzzling your face into his chest, you smiled as your eyes closed. "And I will never leave you again."

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 7 months

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Girlfriend Interrupted

Summary: Reader had a bad day at work and Spencer's complaints are not the best timing.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/comfort

Content warnings: Mentions of food, hunger, and prolonged time without eating

Word count: 887

The bus rumbles across the old asphalt and bricked crosswalks while hissing at stops. All you could do was lay your head against the window and try not to fall asleep or accidentally smash it into the glass after hitting a precarious pothole. You were three stops away from home and all you wanted to do was lock yourself in the apartment and gorge on the least healthy meal you could find.

You had a healthy meal planned for lunch today actually; a salad filled to the nines (the nines being roasted chicken, nuts, pomegranate, and honeydew). It was perfect. So perfect in fact that someone stole it from the fridge when you were in the middle of beating a deadline. And even after being successful in that, your boss still found time to yell at you for something another co-worker did. You weren’t sure which one, but it wasn’t you. You’ve been nibbling on a granola bar on the ride, but your mind is occupied by the leftover lasagna in the fridge.

And you find it there, waiting for you under the stark refrigerator light. You yank it from the bottom shelf and don’t even consider looking at the microwave. You barely looked at the dishes you left in the sink after breakfast this morning and remember how behind you were when getting ready for work, telling yourself you’d put them in the dishwasher before Spencer got home. You did say you’d do that. And Spencer doesn’t like dishes in the sink.

Instead, you grab the blanket from the back of the couch and settle in the dark, pulling up a YouTube video you’ve been meaning to watch. You rest your phone against the book spines Spencer had specifically picked out to be displayed for their guests (mainly your parents during the holidays and his co-workers). Most of them are about astronomy, nothing you’ve cared to pick up. They’re detailed enough to keep Spencer entertained and sturdy enough to keep your phone upright while you slurped up tomato sauce and ricotta cheese. And so you snuggled in like a kid watching Saturday cartoons, sugary cereal at the ready.

And it’s when you think of your boyfriend again that the door behind you opens with a creak. The thud of his cane echoes across the wood floor as that same door clicks as he shuts it. You manage to say “Hey, Spence” through your glorious mouthful of a rushed dinner. But Spencer says nothing back. He’s been struggling not just with his knee acting up again after his previous surgery, but with being unable to travel with his team. The thud of Spencer’s cane trails from the entryway to the kitchen. It was a tough day for both of you, no doubt.

Your sympathies started to wane though when Spencer interrupted your video.

“Ugh, Y/N. I told you I don’t like dishes in the sink.”

“I know.” You tried to say without a mouthful. “And I’m sorry. I was running late for work and needed to get going before—”

“And you left the fridge door open, too. We talked about needing to cut back before our lease renewal. The National Weather Service expects an uptick in accumulation by late December.”

You pause your video and turn in your seat. “Sorry, I was going to do it when I got home, but I needed to eat because someone stole—”

“And you’re eating the lasagna from the tray? We have clean bowls. You could easily grab one from—”

“Let me talk!” You ended up shouting. It was sudden for both of you. You’re never one to raise your voice and Spencer has never been one to fuck up bad enough to witness it. It forces Spencer to freeze in place, like that accumulation he talked about just rushed through the apartment on your command. It would be funny if it was some sort of command if you already weren’t teetering on the edge of tears. The sting in your nose already started traveling to your eyes. They welled up and Spencer quickly became a blur as you started to sob, the trials of a bad day finally getting to you. You let your chest heave and tears streak down your cheeks, hoping at least a portion of the stress will subside afterward.

You didn’t expect Spencer to be right next to you. You didn’t hear his cane once on the floor. It was against the arm of the couch. And he was on the floor, resting on his knees. Of course, you’re too distressed to point out that is the last thing he should be doing if he wants to avoid more surgery so badly. Plus he’s busy with taking the meal off of your lap. “Come here,” he tells you. He’s holding your hands. His hands are just as frigid as the lasagna. But he pulls you up as he tries to stand, meeting you on (somewhat) equal footing to bring you into a hug. It’s warm, obviously. All of his hugs are warm. He wears cotton-only cardigans and wears layers of clothes even at the peak of summer. “I’m sorry.” He says. “Just let it out. I’m here.”

“Spence. Your knee.”

“It’s fine.”

“You need to—”

“Be here. Which I am.” And he holds you tighter.

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lovesickeros · 9 months

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☆ glimpse of divinity

{☆} characters lyney, neuvillette [ separate ] {☆} notes cult au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 0.8k

× neuvillette

The first time he sees you strolling the streets of Fontaine with a glint of wonder in your eyes, he thinks he must have finally lost it. He has to rub his eyes and check a few dozen times before he's certain that you are, in fact, real and not some figment of his imagination conjured by a lack of sleep and overdose on caffeine.

..Though now that he gets a better look, it's not quite the same. Like a smudged painting, he thinks. Still, the uncanny resemblance to the visage of the Divine One has him lingering around the area just to stare a little longer, a deep, devoted sense of affection bristling beneath his skin.

And then you turn sharply on your heel, staring directly back at him, and he feels a sudden wave of embarrassment and something akin to shame.

Archons, he'd just made a fool of himself, hadn't he?

He quickly turns away, clearing his throat and hiding his embarrassment behind his hand. Though it does not seem to deter you, the soft tap of your shoes growing closer until you were peering up at him with wide eyes.

"..Hello." He offers awkwardly, a little too stiff and a little too formal, but you don't seem to mind in the slightest. He knows that your appearance, your vague similarities to the Divine One are mere coincidence, but it does not stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile up at him. "I– apologize for being so uncouth and staring, it's just.."

His voice trails off into a breathy exhale, his hand twitching on his cane as if he wanted to reach out and touch you..but he restrains himself in time. He could not make a bigger fool of himself – he would never hear the end of it from lady Furina.

"You remind me of someone."

He decides, readjusting his hands on his cane as he bows his head for a moment is a show of genuineness, though it must look awkward with how stiff his body feels.

Yet he cannot help but want to get closer anyway, to hear the silky lilt of your voice grace his pointed ears. This is as close as he will ever get to the Divine..he is a weak man, he finds, as he offers a hand to you.

"I understand if this is a bit..forward, but would you mind joining me for tea?"

× lyney

He is a master magician – his entire work is built on keen misdirection and sleight of hand, but even he stumbles for a minute thinking he'd seen an illusion in your warm smile and striking features. Almost an exact copy of the Divine One, yet not quite..

Still, it's enough to pique his interest – enough, too, to give him the confidence to slip into your conversation with ease, all smiles and the slip of a card between his fingers.

"Hello, stranger – I don't think I've seen you in Fontaine before," He laughs, his hand reaching around to rest gently on your opposite shoulder, his voice a ghost of a whisper in your ear. "Say, could I interest you in a bit of magic?"

He perks up at the way you seem to light up like fireworks at his offer, a spark almost like recognition in your eyes he brushes aside – he's quite well known, after all.

"Good! Now, if I may just borrow your attention for a minute.." He grins, stepping around you and turning sharply to face you, his hand outstretched with a deck of cards in his hands, face down. "Let's start simple, shall we? I shan't overwhelm my audience – pick a card."

He holds the cards out again, his features twisted in something like awe, though he hides it well.

His heart flutters at the briefest of glances of your hand against his as you pluck a card from his hand, and he quickly retracts it, reshuffling the deck with a broad grin and a wink.

"Do your best to remember it! If you could return it to the deck.." The card is placed back in it's place amongst the rest, and the magic begins!

"Now then, let's see..hm," He hums for a long moment, the silence filled by the constant shuffle of cards until he suddenly plucks one from the deck, flipping it around for you to see. "Is this your card?"

He frowns when you shake your head, almost pouting, before he lights up again and steps forward.

"Ah! How foolish of me, I missed it..it's riiight here, see." He winks, reaching behind your ear..and pulls free a card from seemingly thin air. He flips it around for you to see again, and when you tell him it is, in fact, your card, he flips it around again.

And before you can see it, he's holding a rainbow rose between his fingers, his hand outstretched as he bows.

His eyes glint with a sort of wonder as he looks at your features, his smile widening a fraction.

"Well, dear stranger? Did you enjoy the show?"

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #neuvillette #lyney #basically reader IS the creator but since the statues of you were built on vague descriptions its a bit off from your actual appearence #so everyone jsut thinks ur like #blessed or smth #anyway can u tell i love fontaine.#furina isn't here bc pt 2 of my prev fic somehow turned into focalors only and i need 2 save my brain power fr That #anyway enjoy these drabbles i wrote in like 5 minutes gn zzzzzzzzzzz #i just needed a breather from that long fic bc im DYING over here lord

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justanotherhh · 2 months

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alastor and touch

just a post documenting alastor and touches throughout the show

I didn't include the pilot, but i do want to mention it, because one thing that's quite striking is how they changed that element from pilot!alastor to show!alastor somewhat. might make a separate post for the pilot at some point to compare

I also did a mix of when alastor noticeably doesn't touch someone directly and in what contexts he gets touched, as well as a couple of other related boundaries and moments of interest

ep1 overture: alastor doesn't touch anyone in this episode. also noting that this is the episode where we get him unequivocally turning down angel's advances, and avoiding being filmed several times, with the iconic "this face was made for radio" line, so not only is he not touching, he's also making some general boundaries clear

ep2 radio killed the video star: 1. niffty crawls up alastor and he picks her up and puts her down. she crawls up him again. he clearly doesn't mind 2. sir pentious rips off a corner of his coat. alastor blows him up -- he later burns the piece of coat that sir pentious had kept: "not many people have been able to take even this much off me." 3. the entirety of the vox vs al showdown is of course notably done over radio/tv, so they're never in the same room. just interesting in terms of how it goes down with them generally in s1, they're constantly kept at a distance via screens and airwaves

ep3 scrambled eggs: 1. taps an egg boi with his staff, while threatening it. generally uses his stick to interact with the egg bois -- pointing, tapping, etc 2. another brief "makes screen fuzzy on a security camera"

ep4 masquerade: notably the episode (with lots of sexual content and specifically valentino) where he doesn't appear, except for briefly in a flashback

ep5 dad beat dad: 1. shakes lucifer's cane, rather than his hand -- he also wipes his hand on his suit afterwards, as if disgusted 2. TOUCHES CHARLIE'S SHOULDER!! notably in front of lucifer in order to piss him off. then goes ONE STEP FURTHER and partially puts his arm around her when saying how proud they all are of her 3. grabs lucifer and spins him out of the way during his part of the song 4. picks niffty out of the toilet 5. during the song: dances with charlie, pats her on the head/tucks her in, and puts his hands on her shoulders 6. during the song: pushes lucifer aside again, including doing a little hip shove 7. lucifer grabs him by his lapels and gets right in his face 8. hugs mimzy 9. grabs charlie and steers her by the shoulders 10. grabs/strokes husk's ear 11. grabs husk via his leash 12. rips the bad guys apart with his tentacles. also picks them up with his hands and eats them 13. mimzy pokes him several times in the chest. he removes her finger in annoyance, and boops her on the nose condescendingly

ep6 welcome to heaven: the other episode that notably includes a sex club (and also heaven and a lot of talk about redemption) that does not involve alastor

ep7 hello rosie: 1. grabs charlie's shoulders, and then her face, forcing her to smile 2. grabs her shoulders again when talking about the angels 3. touches her hair, and then sidehugs her while selling her on the deal 4. DEAL HANDSHAKE 5. more shoulder grabbing, cheek pinching, and patting on head when he's talking about her being charming and capable 6. links arms with her while taking her to rosie 7. rosie joyfully grabs him and spins him around 8. grabs charlie when introducing her to rosie 9. gives charlie his mic in order to help her inspire the cannibals (later replaced with a cane given by rosie) 10. dances with rosie, including a little dip

ep8 the show must go on: 1. more attempted screen voyeurism by vox 2. charlie uses alastor's cane again to speech 3. niffty crawls over him again and places a crown of roaches on his head (possibly his most openly joyous moment) 4. fights adam using his shadow tentacles and creatures, before getting seriously wounded by him (and then has his famous mental breakdown at the idea that his reputation could have been blemished by having been read as altruistic of all things, *spits*) 5. the torn picture of alastor and vox shows them a little apart from one another 6. appears in the middle of the hotel gang and is hugged by charlie, patted on the back by vaggie, and also adorably hugged around the legs by niffty

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS: 1. other characters do initiate more touches, with husk being the other character who's more standoffish, but that's also his general slowly beginning to open up emotionally and he shifts especially with regards to angel after ep4 (although he does do casual pats and the like before that + the massage) 2. generally everyone touches casually in some way or other throughout the show, including in background moments, except for alastor, who always touches very deliberately, whether it's for violence, manipulation, condescension, or affection -- he doesn't seem to engage in casual touch, but does accept it from certain individuals (mainly niffty). for example in dad beat dad in which he initiates the most touches, he's pissing off lucifer and manipulating charlie. he hasn't touched her before this on the show proper, and he's doing it because he has an audience and is trying to convince both lucifer and her of something (that he's a better mentor/support system than lucifer) 3. similarly when he's being very familiar with charlie in hello rosie, he's selling her on making a deal with him, and then on making himself indispensable to her, while also grooming her*** [EDIT: been informed that this could be misread: "grooming" here meant in the general sense of mentoring her in a way that would benefit him, as he says "she's full of potential that i could guide," NOT in a sexual context] -- in true alastor fashion it's hard to say what's sincere and what's self-serving, but it certainly all serves a purpose 4. that being said, i think charlie has become a character he doesn't mind touching, just like he doesn't mind it with niffty, rosie, or mimzy. funnily enough the only time charlie initiates a touch with him is in the finale, when she's relieved he's alive 5. i think the kinds of touches from each of these characters is different. with charlie it's that aforementioned part-manipulation, part-mentor type vibe, where he's very much insinuating himself into her good graces and trust, with niffty it's because She Is A Creature Who Crawls, with mimzy there's a Past (and she clearly crosses a boundary because she thinks she can with him, and he puts his foot down on that), and with rosie there's a respect. before i did this noting down i also thought he touched rosie way more than he actually does, but he only does it once in order to dance (which, if anything else even applies, i think is his main source of actually enjoying touching others, i personally don't think he actually enjoys hugs, it's just a Thing some people expect of you), and simply acquiesces to her grabbing him in the first scene. again, i think he accepts this because he likes her 6. This Deer Does Not Touch Men If He Can Help It

CONCLUSION: if alastor respects you, he will let you touch him to an extent. he's not touchy himself, and mainly does it as a show of power, manipulation, and condescension (lucifer, mimzy, husk, charlie), but he likes dancing. he stays faaar away from sexual contexts in general

I also want to do a separate post on alastor and respect/closeness/familiarity, because i think it's worthwhile analysing how he expresses these things with characters on his terms (for example, giving charlie the mic says far more about his positive feelings towards her than any of the times he touches her), and it's mostly very clear when he's comfortable in a situation and when he's not

#aroace alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #hh meta #alastor meta #my meta

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carpetbug · 6 months

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welcome to the beginning of my ML Feline Blue AU!

in which Marinette is forced to become guardian before ever wielding a miraculous. Chaos ensues when she uses the black cat ring to become feline blue and through a silly little turn of events, Adrien gets his hands on the ladybug earrings and becomes beetle rouge

BIIIIIG thank you to my lovelies @isabugs and @thimbleb3rries for being so kind and encouraging, for their WONDERFUL ART OH MY GOD, and for beta-ing this!

The beginning: Becoming Guardian

1 • 2

“You’re not going to beat me like that, old man” The looming figure taunted.

Hunched in a ball before him, a much smaller elderly man struggled for breath. Blood trailed from his mouth, combining with his saliva to messily drip from his lips as he fought for air. Just by the effort he had to put into continuing breathing, he could tell this was not a fight he could win. Still, his fists clenched in defiance as he pushed himself from the floor and steadied himself upright on his feet. His spine screamed in protest and searing pain at the task, but he managed to remain standing.

“I know I can not beat you, old man” He coughed, hands trembling slightly. “But I must continue to fight”

The taller man scoffed before taking a step forward “I’ll make sure it's the last thing you ever do, you pathetic excuse of a guardian” He spat, tightening his grip on his cane as his rage boiled beneath his skin.

“I’d expect nothing less from a villain like you, Hawkmoth”

“No need to act like you’re so much better than me. After all, we've all made mistakes, haven’t we Master fu” Hawkmoth sneered.

“Leave my past out of this. I’ve worked to fix what I have broken, you only aim to destroy” Master fu panted, feeling his shoulders to check if his bag was still on his back, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he felt the thick material. Next his hands slowly traveled to support and feel the bottom and sides of the bag, searching for an object. He took another relieved breath when he felt the item's weight, and then he prepared himself for the worst. Bunching his muscles, he sprang into action and bolted away from Hawkmoth.

He focused only on moving forward, getting as far from this wretched evil as he could before time ran out. When he finally collapsed, legs giving out from under him in pure exhaustion, he found himself at the Pont de Arts, above the seine. Hawkmoth was nowhere to be seen, but master fu knew that was only a false sense of security. The villain would find him soon enough. He needed to find someone. Anyone.

“-ir? Are you okay?”

A voice. Master fu looked up, vision shaking just slightly. In Front of him stood a teenage girl, dark hair pulled back into pigtails and eyebrows pushed together with worry.

“Sir? Can you hear me?” She asked with a panicked look in her eyes. “How can I help?” She stepped closer and offered him a hand.

Master fu gathered his strength to pull his bag from his back and carefully draw open the zipper before reaching in to pull out the contents. The girl watched intensely, eyes following his pained movements. He pulled a large dark wooden box from the bag and held it close to his chest, then brought his eyes upwards to meet her face. “I’m sorry, young hero” He said sadly, then joined his hand to hers before she could respond.

An intense feeling washed over him, and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath. This girl was strong. He hoped she will forgive him for the burden he will make her bear.

She flashed an anxious smile “That’s okay, and I promise I’m no hero. Just a normal g-” He cut her off with a sharp tug, then slammed the box into her chest. She gasped as he knocked the air from her lungs, clearly not expecting such a feat of strength from the battered man. As she fought to breathe, Master fu gathered the last few remnants of his strength and lifted the girl from the ground. “I, Wang Fu, hereby relinquish the Miracle Box-”

“Stop! What are you doing!?”

“-and name Marinette Dupain-Cheng the guardian” His body lit up, skin glowing as the box between them lifted upward and burned like a star in the air.

“How do you know my na-?!” Before she could finish what she said, the box dropped back into her hold and the elderly man -still glowing like some sort of deity- held her over the railing and dropped her into the rushing water below. She hit the surface with a loud splash, getting thrown under but quickly resurfacing a few feet away, miracle box still in her arms.

The last thing she saw before being pulled away by the fast moving current was the man falling backwards to the ground in exhaustion as the light emitting from his skin dimmed.

Master fu slowly blinked his eyes open, carefully taking in his surroundings with an expression of pure shock and confusion on his face. He seemed so frail, all of a sudden. Like he had lost all his fight.

“What did you do?!” a booming voice hissed behind him. He started to turn his head to look, but something beat him to it. All of a sudden, a hand tightened around his throat and picked him off the ground, nails digging into the thin skin of his neck.

“What- what’s happening?” Master fus strangled voice hardly escaped his lips. He tried to thrash his legs, do anything to get free, but a fatigue he couldn’t explain had overcome his muscles. Weakly prying at his attackers hands, panic began to set in. There wouldn’t be any escape. “Who are you?” he managed out in a pained mumble.

“I am the next guardian of the miraculous” the seething voice responded as nails began to break through his skin. “I am the consequences of your greatest mistake” the words rang through his head as his vision went black, and sickeningly warm blood poured from his throat.

Marinette struggled to hold her head above the surface and keep the container in her grasp as the river pulled her this way and that. Her mind raced and her lungs screamed, everything inside her begging to let go of that weird old man’s weird old box and save herself instead. Still, her grip remained glued to the sodden wood, as if she would rather drown than set the box free to face the waters’ wrath. Nothing was making any sense. And despite the deafening chorus of the racing water that surrounded her, the only thing ringing in her ears was the man’s words.

He had called her a hero. He had entrusted her with something clearly important to him. He had thrown her into the seine. He had been badly wounded. He had been a complete and utter stranger. What did everything mean? Suddenly, her feet felt solid ground beneath her, and she hurriedly moved to follow it. She pushed forward, focusing on reaching the bank that lay on the other side. Eventually Marinette was able to pull herself and the box from the water onto an empty platform beneath a bridge.

As soon as she was safely out of the water, Marinette threw herself backwards in exhaustion. She laid against the cool pavement underneath her and passed through all the events that had just occurred. What the fuck was this ‘miracle’ box? And why was she the ‘guardian’? Ignoring the new aches in her body, she sat upward and brought the box closer to her.

There she sat for a few moments, toying with the lid and gently tracing the intricate pattern displayed. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened it.

“HELLO YOUNG MASTER” A loud chorus of voices rang out as a beam of light emitted from the open container and what looked like small differently colored masses of stars flew all around her. Marinette fell back onto her elbows, overwhelmed at the sudden sensory overload. Her vision was a blur of nauseating colors accompanied by what she could only imagine to be auditory hallucinations.

Before she had a chance to speak, to catch her breath or try and scream for help, the almost magical colorful masses slowed until they were still, then began to morph into a solid form. Marinette watched, intrigued and terrified, as these small creatures took shape in front of her. They each seemed to be a different animal, though they all shared an alien-like anatomy. Some had tails, others long whiskers and a few antennas. Two of them caught her eye, a sleek black cat and what she thought to be a ladybug (though it looked much more like some sort of bug-mouse combo).

As if the creatures could read her mind -which they could, for all she knew-, they began to speak in sync. “WE ARE THE KWAMI, MAGICAL BEINGS THAT CAN BESTOW POWERS UPON OUR WIELDERS.” They said, in an almost sing-songy voice.

“AND YOU, MARINETTE, ARE OUR NEW GUARDIAN.”

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #carpetbug writes #ml feline blue au #kwami swap #marinette #marinette dupain cheng #master fu #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #I RLLY HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS LITTLE INTRO!! MUCH MUCH MUCH MORE TO COME!#this is just a short little intro to the au :)#expect longer chapters in the future and lots of art!#i will add this to ao3 at some point i pinky promise #carpetbug art

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bookishdream · 1 year

Text

Blackmail

Kaz Brekker x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets kidnapped by the Crows Word Count: 3k CW: swearing, abusive parent, blood

She used to live her best life; a daughter of a council’s member, an heir to the ground so big she couldn’t even begin to comprehend its vastness. However, when she finally came to the age where she was to come into own money and ground, she was kidnapped. By one of the gangs violating the streets of Ketterdam, nonetheless.

“Who, the fuck, do you think you are?” she pulled on the ropes binding her wrists. The room was so dark that she wasn’t able to see a person standing by the wall opposite of her. When she’d been dragged through the part of the city she hadn’t ever visited, she’d been hearing two voices behind her, one female and one male, bickering back and forth about trivial matters. Yet, when the bag had been removed, she took notice of another girl, sitting on a window sill, her legs loosely dangling over the edge, her face didn’t convey any feelings, only cold indifference. She also noticed two men, one looked as if he was Fjerdan with his blonde hair and strong face features, whereas the other had brown skin and a little smirk was pulling at his lips. He looked like he was having the time of his life. She counted four of her captors, but she quickly realized who had taken her. She sighed and when she felt her wrist start bleeding, she stopped trying to get free.

“Well, well, aren’t you a little feisty?” the pale-skinned girl teased, her brown hair fell loosely on her back, and she was leaning against the brick wall of the warehouse. “I told you she wouldn’t be willing to cooperate.”

“Tell me one person who would be, if they were tied up and kept against their will,” y/n spat, sweat coating her forehead. She was trying to come up with a plan that would let her run, but not when all of their attention was on her.

The girl rolled her eyes, “But for Kaz’s being late, you need to be patient, yes sweetheart? You will hear a reason soon,”

“It’s ridiculous,”

“Tell me about it,” the brown-skinned boy remarked, when he came closer to her, and the light from the street fell onto him, y/n noticed his belt with two revolvers, they shone. She swallowed a big lump of saliva, her anxiety spiking. “It’s never fun, when we kidnap someone,”

“So you’re telling me it’s not the first time?”

“Love, we’re professionals, of course it’s not our first time,” the boy smirked into her direction, making her frown. What did they want from her?

Suddenly, she heard a rather loud clicking of something. The warehouse must’ve been empty, since the echo of the sound matched the loudness of her own heart beating in her chest. She cursed when she realized what Kaz the girl meant. Her father would warn her about the nightmare of Ketterdam, a boy who had deceived her father more than once, and the boy who was a top priority to her father. Since Brekker had robbed him for the first time, messing with his books, her father wanted nothing more than to catch him. He’d never accomplished that. Obviously.

“You have her? Good,” his hoarse voice matched his looks. He had a sharp jawline and his brown eyes were set on the chair she was sitting on. “I hope you’ve heard of me, it will be easier to make an introduction. I’m sure your father has told you plenty of me.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, lifting her head so as to look at Kaz, who had taken a step closer to her. “Careful, because your hat might not have more room for that ego of yours,” she heard a surprised gasp of someone from behind Brekker.

“She came for his hat,” the boy who had talked to her earlier whispered.

“I heard that, Jesper,” the other girl, who was sitting at the windowsill answered.

Kaz didn’t look like her words made any impression on him, he simply leaned on his cane further, looking y/n into her eyes. She held his stare.

“What do you want, Brekker?” she asked, her voice still.

“We need a Squaller for our job,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Then go and find yourself one, I don’t see how this concerns me,” she still tried to keep her face as impassive as she could.

“Oh, I think you know exactly how this concerns you,” Brekker smirked. “You and your mother are clever, I need to give this to you, but nothing goes past my Wraith. Your little travels to the countryside, your mom’s forged papers. I know everything,” he emphasized the last word, his unsaid threat making her shiver.

“And what would you possibly need from an untrained Squaller?” she asked, “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“You are a descendant from a powerful line of Grisha, y/n. With a little more training, you could control clouds and weather, am I right?”

She kept silent, weighing Kaz’s words. She was fucked, no matter what path would she choose. Working with him and his gang came with a strong possibility of her father finding out and his wrath. However, not working for him and letting him go the stadwatch with the intel he had would put into jeopardy not only her, but her mother as well.

“I don’t know if I could control the weather,” she finally whispered, giving up. She could hear breaths of relief from the others. “I haven’t really tried doing more than controlling and bending the wind.”

“Well,” Kaz smirked, his cane clicking as he was walking toward the exit. “You’d better be a fast learner,” his final words echoed in her mind.

Few days later, she still couldn’t get rid of Kaz’s words. The littlest sound startled her and she’d lost her appetite. She was in the library, when one of the servants came to her with a little note. The boy left the piece of paper on the table she was sitting at, and left.. She took the note, the paper was cream-white and the scribble looked as if it had been written in a hurry. The location that had been written told her nothing. She wasn’t familiar with other districts in Ketterdam. She sighed and got up to take a map. She had an hour to find the place and get there.

After finally finding out that the location of the meeting was outside the city, she cursed at Kaz for leaving her such a short time to arrive there. She quickly changed for her outdoor clothes and left.

When y/n eventually showed up, she saw that everyone was already there and she noticed a new face. He looked very young, his head full of red curls and a face full of freckles. He smiled kindly at her.

“You’re late,” Brekker commented.

“And you’re unbearable, yet I don’t go around stating the obvious,” she remarked, her hair being lifted by the wind. “Of course I’m late, I live on the other side of Ketterdam,”

Kaz wanted to answer her, but when he opened his mouth, the white-skinned girl interrupted him and clasped her hands.

“I think we should begin,” she came closer to y/n, her hand outstretched, “My name is Nina, the one with the guns is Jesper, the one with the best arms is Matthias,” Nina winked at him, making the Fjerdan’s cheeks tint pink. “The redhead is Wylan and Inej is probably somewhere on the roof.” At the girl's last words y/n turned around and tilted her head up in order to see the Wraith somewhere.

“Are you a Grisha?” y/n asked, letting Nina lead the way towards the area that was more vacant. They were on the field, only buildings that were in the close vicinity were factories or empty warehouses.

“I am a Heartrender,” Nina replied, motioning for y/n to stay in her place. Then Nina took a few steps back and stretched out her arms. “Show me what you’ve got.”

The weather was mostly sunny, with some clouds floating on the sky. It wasn’t very windy, but it was enough for y/n to work with. First she bent the wind into a small whirlwind at Nina’s feet. Then she made it a bit bigger, but still safe. She could feel her face getting some color on it. Her mom had said that she had been looking like a ghost for the past few days. At last, y/n gathered more of the air and she made a show of disheveling Nina’s hair, blowing wind under Jesper’s coat and, her personal favorite, she flew off Kaz’s hat. She heard Jesper and Nina’s silent laugh, however Kaz was looking at her with an indifferent expression.

“How long until she can control the storm?” he questioned, his moves smooth as he used his cane to lift the fallen hat. He put it back on his head and shifted his way back onto the stick.

“A week, tops, she has a huge potential,” Nina answered, her eyes glimmering with excitement.

Y/n rolled her eyes, she could feel the troubles she was going to be in, were their little scheme be found out.

It took much more than Nina assessed. Only after two and a half weeks was y/n ready to call a small lighting. It wasn’t big, hell, it couldn’t even hurt anyone, but it was something. And she was proud of it. Nina happened to be a good teacher, partially because she herself had been studying in the Little Palace once.

“Good job, y/n!” She exclaimed, the wind created by the Squaller carrying her voice. “Now call for something bigger,”

“Nina, you know I can’t,” she breathed, her heart beating so fast and loud that she couldn’t differentiate if the last thud was her heart of the strike of lightning she did.

“One last time, you have so much undiscovered power! Imagine what you could do once you finally grasp it!.”

Y/n breathed a pant, her forehead and the nape of her neck was covered in sweat. She could feel her eyes burning from it, even though she had been using the wind to cool her down. She called for the clouds above her head once more time, gathering the electricity sizzling in them. She pressed her palms together and focused on the tree standing mere meters from the pair. Then, y/n let out a small gasp and shot out her palm into this direction. Neither of Grisha expected what would happen next. Y/n didn’t think her powers could be so grand. The alone tree that was standing in the distance was now on fire and both of the girl’s eyes widened in shock.

“Shit,” Y/n mumbled, she rushed to somehow pull out the air and put out the fire. It cost her even more energy than creating the lighting. Fortunately, the fire was extinguished and only dark strokes of smoke were coming into the air.

“That was amazing!” Nina giggled, her face brightening in the smile. “Let’s go eat something.”

Y/n let Nina lead the way to the Crow Club, where hopefully they would serve her some food. She was starving. She had never used her powers so much that she felt famished. When the two girls finally arrived at the Club, y/n noticed how much commotion there was. People were everywhere, occupying the poker tables, playing black jack or sitting at the bar. She couldn’t glimpse much more, because Nina was pulling her to the staircase. Upon arriving on the first floor, where there was a room big enough to accommodate seven people she saw a couch and, with a long sigh, sat on it.

“Any progress?” Kaz asked, while making his way into the room and then towards the desk that was facing the couch and two armchairs. Y/n looked at him and rolled her eyes, refusing to answer his question before putting food into her mouth. She first smelt then saw waffles, her head shot in the direction of the door that was being opened and closed by Nina and Jesper on her hills. Y/n smiled when the Heartrender handed her the plate with hot food and started eating it like she had never seen food in her life.

“Someone would think that your father is starving you,” Brekker remarked, his voice hollow.

“Someday, I will put this cane straight into your-’” she was interrupted by Jesper putting a waffle into her open mouth, shutting her up. She rolled her eyes again, but didn’t say anything more. She was focused on eating her lunch, zoning out when Nina informed Kaz what her teachings brought.

After the afternoon and a part of the evening spent with the Crows, y/n got up and made her way home. She could glimpse Inej a few times, while walking down Ketterdam’s streets. She knew that the Suli was just making sure that y/n wouldn’t spill the secret, but it made her feel better that she had company, nonetheless.

When she eventually came home, she was met with silence. Lamps were lit up, however she couldn’t hear any talking. She silently creeped over to the living room and she saw her father sitting in the armchair, looking into the fire.

“My dearest daughter,” the man started, placing his cold gaze upon her. Y/n knew he somehow had learnt what she had been doing for the past weeks. She swallowed, but kept her face straight. “Do you want to explain why people saw you with those brutes?” He got up and made his way towards her.

His breath reeked of alcohol, but he still came close enough to grab her chin and tilt it so she could see straight into his eyes. She tried to explain herself, but her father lifted his fist and punched her. She was blinded by pain, she could feel hot blood coming from her nose to her mouth. She couldn’t brace herself for another hit, this time his fist connected with her stomach. Y/n doubled over, breathing hard. Her father used this as an advantage and struck another hit to her face and the girl fell to her knees.

“Get up, you pathetic girl,” he crouched and his face was at the same level as hers. She spat at him, saliva mixed with blood. Her father made a disgusting noise and wiped his face off with the sleeve of his shirt. He roughly took her arm and lifted her up. He swung once again, but his blow never met y/n. She used her desperation and power and hauled her father straight into the window that was behind him. There was a lot of shattered glass and she could glimpse a bit of blood on the pieces that stayed in the window. Y/n didn’t think longer, she made her way towards the door, stumbling.

She didn’t know if Inej was still somewhere on the rooftops, but still y/n ran into the direction of the Crow Club. Her feet heavy and her face swollen, but she kept running until she saw the familiar building. She barged into the club, running for the staircase and making her way to the top of the stairs. To Kaz’s room.

She opened the door, noticing the dimmed lights and Kaz sitting at his desk. He lifted his gaze and the only thing that indicated his surprise was his frown.

“Rough night?” he asked, getting up from his desk. He walked closer to her, looking her up and down. “Please, do say that the other guy looks worse.”

She breathed a small laugh but only shook her head. “I didn’t know where else to go,”

Kaz sighed, going to the small, adjoined room, y/n suspected it was a small bathroom. A moment later, Brekker emerged with a small kit in his gloved hands, he handed her the kit and motioned for y/n to the room he had just left.

“Go clean yourself, I’ll tell Inej to fetch you some clean clothes,”

“Thank you,” it was the first time she let herself be that vulnerable in front of someone. She wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation.

Y/n went into the bathroom, her limbs heavy and her head hurting. She took a look at herself and she spooked herself. Her whole left cheek was swollen, her eye nearly shut, her lip cracked and blood was marking its way down her chin and neck. She swallowed and started cleaning herself. When she mostly got rid of the blood, she lifted her shirt and saw a big, purple bruise on her ribcage. She had a hard time breathing. She felt the room swirling around her, but she strove to pull herself together. With as deep breath as she could take she left the bathroom.

Kaz was sitting at his desk again. He lifted his head when she stepped into the room and observed her when she took the fresh set of clothes from his bed. She walked towards the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” his hoarse voice came from behind her. She turned around and saw him frowning even more than before.

“I don’t know, maybe Nina has some room on her floor,” she remarked, hugging the clothes to her chest and turning her face back to the door.

“Stay,” Kaz whispered, his voice barely audible. Y/n stopped in her tracks, her spine straightened. Did she hear correctly? “You can take the bed,”

“Kaz, you don’t have to,” she started, but was promptly interrupted by Brekker’s voice.

“Shut up and lay down, you stubborn girl,” he came back to whatever work he had, y/n heart grew and she smiled for the first time in hours.

“Who would’ve thought there’s a heart underneath all of those layers,” she teased, laying down on his bed.

“Such a pity your father didn’t knock your teeth out,” Kaz said, but the small smirk on his face hinted that he wasn’t serious.

“Asshole,”

#kaz brekker my beloved #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows one shot #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #nina zenik

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farfromstrange · 4 months

Note

Sub!matt idea. Sensory deprivation.

It can be common as a way of control, heighten the experiance or even to help calm and sooth to blindfold your partner and make them rely on other senses. But for Matt he already has this to the extreme which can be distracting able to hear three blocks away when all he wants to focus on is you his world in this moment.

After a day of honestly tiring input he just asks for you to take over he somtimes does that wanting someone else to control him for a while and he trusts you. And trusts you enough to fuck you with his hearing either gone or reduced only able to feel, smell and taste you which is more then enough. Esspecially when you focus on the touch lavishing his body with sensory your hands never off him roaming, soothing holding. Your lips almost always on him kissing, sucking biting anything to elicit the sweet groans of him. He keeps a hand on your chest or throat not controlling but to be able to sense your rumbling groans and soft sighs feel the uptick in your heart rate as he focuses on you and only you

I am SO sorry that this took so long! And when I finally started writing it, I got carried away, so it took me two whole days to finish. But I wanted it to be good enough after I left you hanging.

On that note, your smutty thoughts make me feral!! Not gonna lie, I sat in my lecture the other day and I couldn't stop thinking about this, which is why this turned out to be over 4k words. On this page, we celebrate sub!Matt and all that comes with him!

Thank you so much for your request, and I hope I could do it justice <3

Sensory Deprivation | Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Summary: The world tends to get a bit loud, but thankfully, you're there to help Matt focus.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), sub!Matt, use of "good boy", oral m!receiving, swallowing, use of earplugs (sensory deprivation), Matt's catholic guilt, slight blasphemy, (almost) coming untouched, mention & use of safe word/action

Word Count: 4.4k

A/n: I'm so horny for this man, I can't function. Also, even though I did proofread this, I'm not sure if I missed any mistakes. My brain doesn't function as well as it used to. I'm sorry in advance.

More than anyone in this world, Matt believes he has to function, always, and without exceptions. He believes that he has to be useful, always doing something and never resting. His heightened senses make it impossible for him to turn his back on even the most minuscule cases of injustice, and he still beats himself up time and time again because he can’t be everywhere at once. He hears everything, smells everything, and feels the despair in the air, but in the end, he can’t take on the weight of the world all by himself.

Ever since he met you, you have become his reprieve. You’re the haven he returns home to when everything gets just a little too much. When his senses are flooded and his heart is heavy. He crawls to you when he’s wounded, and he would crawl to you if he only had a few more minutes to live. You’re the first person he thinks of when he wakes up, and the last person he thinks of when he goes to sleep at night, preferably holding you in his arms to make sure that you won’t slip away from him. In you, he has found someone who would never judge him for who he is. Someone who will always stand by his side proudly, and someone who will hold him when he’s at his weakest. And he has been hanging off the edge of his breaking point for quite some time, holding on for dear life.

You can tell Matt must have had an awful day from the second the key turns in the lock to your shared apartment. His feet drag over the wooden floorboards as he makes his way inside. You look up from your book.

Matt takes a deep breath, dropping his bag by the door. His shoulders are tense. He folds his cane, places it aside, and removes the red glasses you’ve grown to love—but you don’t nearly love them as much as his beautiful brown eyes, the green specks so distinctive, you could recognize them anywhere.

“Rough day?” you ask.

He opens the first button of his dress shirt with shaky fingers. “Yeah. I don’t wanna talk about it,” he says.

He hasn’t said hi to you like he usually would. Tonight seems to be one of those nights again. You know Matt well enough to pick up on the subtle clues in his behavior. He’s overwhelmed, possibly even anxious, and the weight he always carries on his shoulders is threatening to crush him. He’s walking a very thin tightrope, and he’s about to fall off.

You place your book on the coffee table and straighten up. He rounds the couch you’re sitting on, his unfocused eyes searching for you. Your heartbeat resonates in his ears. Your breathing is regular. You’re calm. You’re his rock. You won’t let him drown, no matter how strong the current is that is dragging him down.

Raising your eyebrows, you look up at him when he stops right in front of you. “No hello kiss?” you dare to ask. It’s a soft question, a little teasing, but he knows you mean well.

Matt shakes his head. As soon as he breathes you in, he’s done for. His brain cells fry on the electric chair of his mind. His heart starts beating up to his throat. You’re so close yet so far away. You smell incredible; you must have showered after work, and then you sat down with your favorite tea and read your favorite book while waiting for him so you could have dinner together. You’re so considerate, you even used his scentless soap so all he would be able to smell is your natural scent. You consume him. The city moves into the background, and the bricks are about to fall off his shoulders. He’s close to collapsing, falling on his knees and begging you to take control to just make him forget, but he isn’t quite there yet.

A car honks in the distance. The night is calling for him. His hand clenches into a fist at his side while the other rests flat against his thigh.

You slowly rise from your position. “Matthew,” you breathe his name like a siren. “What do you need?”

He sniffs. His fingers twitch. He has to go out, but he can’t. You envelop him in a bubble, and it makes him feel like he isn’t alone. Like he isn’t trapped. Like he can finally let go after holding on for so long.

“Talk to me,” you say.

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “There was so much noise,” Matt whispers back. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t focus. I’m trying to stay in control, but I can’t focus, and—” He breaks off into a shaky sigh.

You chase his eyes; they’re glossed over. You reach out to tilt his chin in your direction. His eyes flutter closed. A stray tear slips down his cheek. It’s a tear stemming from months of exhaustion, physical pain, and emotional turmoil. He tried to push through, but he’s arrived at a point of no return. He’s breaking, and you’re the only one capable of catching him.

After another deep breath, Matt’s eyes open again. “You’re here,” his voice is still barely above a whisper, but the smile that starts to grow on his lips speaks the language of relief.

“I’m always here,” you answer.

“You keep me sane.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant.”

“I also know that, but it doesn’t matter. I know how hard it is for you. If you need to be distant for a while and then blow off some steam, I’m okay with it.”

He shudders when your fingers brush his cheek. The faint bruise underneath his eye has turned green. You trace the injury with gentle fingertips.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he says.

You smile back at him, knowing he can feel it, and you guide him toward your face. “You exist,” you tell him. “That’s enough for you to deserve me.”

His nose brushes against yours, but before his lips can meet yours, he stops. He inhales your scent. He feels your pulse under his fingers from where he’s wrapped them around your wrist. Your skin feels so soft against his. He’s no longer on fire. The world is no longer on fire. He can let go. He wants to know that it’s okay to let go, but the voice in his head is telling him to stop. The crossroads he finds himself at won’t let him leave in the direction he wants to go.

You can feel his inner turmoil. He’s holding back. He always does so. You’ve been together for what feels like forever, and he still doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants. What he needs. What he deserves. You told him to be primal when he needs to be. You told him to admit when you need to take over. He never does it out of his own free will. He waits until you force him into submission.

Tonight should be the night he finally tells you. Matt needs to learn that his needs matter just as much as yours. His catholicism can go to hell for all you care.

“I need—” He swallows. “I-I need t—”

“Go ahead,” you urge him.

“Ugh,” the sound resembles a broken growl. And then, the barriers finally break. “I need you to take over,” he begs. “I need you to help me breathe again, sweetheart. Please. I need you.”

God, he sounds so wrecked.

“You want me to take control?” you ask to clarify.

He nods. “Yes.”

“Okay. Good boy. I can do that.”

Matt’s lips part in a weak whimper in response to your praise. Calling him a ‘good boy’ always has the same welcome effect. You don’t even have to look down to know that his cock is slowly swelling in his slacks.

All the blood has rushed from his head and his beautiful rosy, stubbly cheeks to his groin. It doesn’t take much to turn him on, especially not in his current state—especially not if it’s you.

Hearing him admit that he needs you like this makes you feel a myriad of emotions. You want to take care of him, you want to love him, and you want to give him a moment of peace amongst the constant chaos, but there is also something so arousingly erotic about the way he begs for you to take control that makes your thighs clench.

Often enough, he is the one taking care of you. Matt is a giver, not a taker. He always puts you first, but on some days, he just can’t bear it anymore. And you couldn’t possibly ask him to take charge in bed in his current state. It would break him. He’s a vulnerable man, whether he likes to admit it or not, and he can be as fragile as an ancient vase. You have to handle him with care on those days, which is all you intend to do as you guide him to your shared bedroom.

You gently urge him to sit down on the bed. “Do you trust me?” you ask.

His unfocused eyes flick from one side to the other. “Always,” he breathes out.

“Good. Lie back for me. I’m going to take such good care of you, I promise.”

He would never doubt that.

You climb into his lap, and finally, you kiss him. His lips part slightly in a desperate groan. Before he can slide his tongue into your mouth though, you pull away. His grabby hands are already resting on your hips, wandering, and wandering, and…

“Nuh-uh,” you tell him, taking hold of his calloused fingers and placing them on your upper thighs. “Patience, baby.”

“Please,” Matt begs. You love it when he begs. He’s completely putty in your hands. You could tell him to get on his knees and pray, and he would, no matter how blasphemous it may be.

He’s holding onto you for dear life. You place his hand against the left side of your chest, allowing him to feel your heartbeat. He isn’t leaving you cold. He never does. Alone the sight of him is enough to make your thighs clench with need, but straddling him, you can’t get the friction you need.

You reach for the nightstand to your right, opening the drawer. You know exactly what he needs. “Turn your head for me,” you murmur.

Matt follows your instructions without questioning them. Finally finding what you were looking for, you retrieve the earplugs from the bedside drawer. This isn’t the first time you have used them on him, or he has used them on you. The specific brand renders you almost entirely deaf and renders Matt’s enhanced hearing almost to an entirely normal level.

You gently put the first plug into his left ear, then the other into his right. Before you push it in though, you ask, “Do you remember our safeword?”

He nods. “Red,” he says.

“Good boy. And when you can’t speak?”

“Tap your wrist three times.” His lips curl up into a weak smile. “Usually, I’m the one asking you that.”

“Not tonight, you aren’t. May I put this in now?” You tap the earplug.

He nods again. It’s all the confirmation you need before inserting it, reducing his hearing completely. He lets out a sigh of relief. He closes his eyes, and you know he’s trying not to cry.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” you ask, cradling his cheek. His stubble scratches your fingertips, but it’s a welcome pain.

He can still hear what you’re saying, feel the vibrations in your chest from where his hand is resting, and he smells you so much clearer now that he no longer has to listen to the city screaming at him in the background. Your arousal gets stuck to the tiny hairs in his nose, and he inhales sharply. Every nerve in his body is on fire.

Matt moans. His tongue darts out, tasting the air. For a moment, he forgets that you just asked for his consent. Everything is so much more intense, yet it isn’t nearly enough.

“Matthew,” you nudge him. “Talk to me.”

“Yes,” he whispers. At least he thinks he’s whispering.

You smile, seemingly satisfied with his answer, and then you lean down to kiss him again. This time, you let him push his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, feeling you, and consuming all of you. He wants every ounce of you ingrained in his mind forever.

His hands slide under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. His focus is on you entirely. You help him take the pesky piece of fabric off, followed by his own. He’s suddenly so hot.

Your teeth clash when you kiss. His cock is hard as a rock, pressing against his lower abdomen. You can feel it between your thighs. It must be painful for him.

His kisses trail from your mouth, down your neck. He tastes the salt on your skin. Your pulse jumps as he drags his tongue over the vein. It’s a primal need. He needs to mark you. He needs to taste you, all of you, and make you his for all the world to see. An animalistic growl escapes his lips. His teeth dig into your skin. He nibbles just enough to make you moan, your chest vibrating underneath his hand. Matt doesn’t even hesitate to grab a handful of your breast, tugging at your sensitive nipple until it’s stiff enough to rival his aching cock.

You throw your head back, your jaw slack, and he uses the newfound space to kiss down to your collarbone. You’re going to be purple and bruised tomorrow, but you don’t care.

With a demanding grip on his hair that pulls at his scalp and causes him to groan against your shoulder, you push his head toward your chest. He isn’t in control, you are, and you know how much he loves to please you.

Like a man starving, he sucks your nipple into his mouth. No, it’s not just your nipple. He takes as much as he can into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub only momentarily before he moves on to the rest of your silky skin.

You moan. You have to let him know that you’re enjoying yourself. He feels the sound deep within your chest from where his hand is resting, and the way your breast moves slightly when you moan. Matt only becomes more eager when he feels and smells what he’s doing to you.

The scent of you is addicting. Your arousal smells slightly sour, sometimes slightly metallic, but most of all, it is you. And when he tastes your essence on the tip of his tongue without even licking at your slick folds because you are simply that wet, it makes him feral with this insanely primal need to have you.

He wants to spread you out before him and taste you until you’re coming all over his face. Though today, he is too weak to keep you restrained to the mattress. Matt takes what he can get, what you are willing to give him, and he does so eagerly, like the good boy that he wants to be for you.

With the world silenced, he can focus on you. The way your heart is hammering against your ribcage, right against his palm. The way your chest heaves with every labored breath you take as he sucks and sucks at your breast until your nipple is beyond swollen. He can feel how smooth your skin is, smell the remnants of your body lotion that he sometimes steals so he can smell you everywhere he goes, and the slight sheen of sweat that has started to cover your body from head to toe. And he can smell your arousal so thick in the air, his cock jumps at the mere thought of sinking into your tight walls—of being completely consumed by you, body and soul. He doesn’t need to hear right now, all he needs to do is feel you.

You know about his desperate urge to please. You know that, even while you’re in charge, he wants nothing more than to make you feel good. Matt is anything but selfish. But his selflessness doesn’t have a place in this bedroom tonight.

As crazy as his mouth on your breasts is driving you into an oblivion of pure ecstasy, your walls clenching around nothing, you find it in yourself to pull him away.

With his eyes hooded, he looks so delicious. His cock is still straining against his lower abdomen in his underwear. When you pull him away, his expression reads offense. You can’t help but snicker.

“Did you think I’d let you make this about me?” you say just loud enough for the sound to reach through the earplugs.

He exhales. “I was praying,” he says.

Praying. He is too far gone to realize. There are sides to Matt Murdock you love more than others, and when he becomes blasphemous, it does things to you. This good catholic boy turns into mush when you just touch him, and then you are his God. You’re who he wants to worship, and he would pray to you, worship at the altar of your body, and drink your essence like holy water if it meant being all over you and inside of you. And you take your position very seriously.

He trusts you. That is not a small feat. He trusts you with his body and soul, and he trusts you with the most vulnerable parts of him, be it in bed or merely a hug after a bad day. You know what he needs, and he trusts you to take care of him. He wouldn’t let just anyone do what you do to him.

“What were you praying for?” you ask him.

“You,” he whispers.

“You can have me, but first… focus.”

He told you he was losing focus because the world was far too late, so with the noise reduced, you will help him focus on something other than the world out there.

“Feel that?” You kiss his mouth, and from there, you move down to his stubbly jaw. “Focus on that. Focus on me.”

Matt sucks in another sharp breath. While one hand still rests on your chest, the other comes to rest around your neck, feeling your pulse, feeling you, and his eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your luscious lips all over him.

Your kisses trail down his neck. You pay close attention to the sensitive spot behind his ear. He moans. His hips buck upward. He’s so painfully hard, his cock has already started leaking pre-cum into his boxers.

Each scar, each indentation on his skin that reminds you of all the good he does at the expense of his health, you kiss. You trace your tongue over the healed wounds, feeling the warmth of his skin seep into yours. He’s so sensitive.

His fingers involuntarily clench around your neck, but you don’t mind. He’s not choking you, he’s simply trying to hold on. You have established a safe word for a reason, after all. He can get carried away the same way you can get carried away.

You wouldn’t dare push him too far though. Not tonight. Not when he’s already this wrecked underneath you. You purposefully leave his nipples out of the equation and move further down his body. His abs tense under your tender touch. You can’t help but smile.

And him? Matt feels like he’s floating. He can feel every kiss against his heated skin, your fingertips tracing his scars after you’ve so sensually pressed your mouth against them, and he can feel your every breath as you move downward. Every kiss leaves a series of shivers in its wake. He’s hot, yet he’s cold. He needs more, but at the same time, you are already close to driving him into overstimulation.

His balls tighten. He can’t believe that the feeling of you is enough to make him want to explode. He knows that if you touch his cock now, he might as well come right then and there. It’s so much more intense like this when he doesn’t get distracted by the world outside. You are his world, and you are all he focuses on.

You move further down until you reach his boxers. His arm is no longer long enough to keep his hand around your neck, so he moves it into your hair. It’s a silent warning, you suppose because he is close. You only kissed him, and he’s already so close to coming undone. You don’t blame him. He’s been so tense lately.

You press a kiss to his hip bone before murmuring against his milky skin, “It’s okay.”

Matt whimpers. Your words make their way into his bloodstream.

You pull his boxers down. The cold air hits his aching tip and the way his back arches makes you almost feel bad. You spit into your hand, but you make sure your palm is warm enough before you reach for his girth.

The moment you touch him, he’s done for. “Sweetheart, I can’t–” he chokes out, but you shush him by placing your lips against his tip.

You lick at the salty pre-cum. It tastes like him. You can’t deny that you missed this while he was so distant from you. This is as much for you as it is for him, that is something you can’t deny either. You’re a little selfish tonight. Just a little.

His words of protest get swallowed by a needy moan, and his fist tightens in your hair. He’s not going to last long.

Matt is not one to come early. The guilt swallows him faster than you can swallow his cum, which is why he always holds himself back. Tonight though, you won’t let him torture himself for your pleasure. You hate it when he does it.

“Ugh!” the moan comes from the depths of his chest. “Fucking–God!”

You take him into your throat as far as you can without gagging, and what you can’t take, you wrap your hand around. He’s so thick, and he’s so incredibly big—you can feel the tears forming in your eyes. But God, he is so beautiful with his head thrown back, brown eyes squeezed shut, and that little drop of sweat dripping down his temple. It’s lewd, it’s erotic, and it makes your thighs clench.

All of his reservations vanish when you take him all in. Your throat is tight, but you’re enthusiastic. Your tongue traces the vein on the underside of his cock, moving back up to the overly sensitive head. Your hands cup his balls. Every time you go down on him, Matt swears he can feel heaven reaching its hand out to him.

He grips your hair a little tighter, his other hand tangling in the sheets. He’s so close. He twitches, painfully so. And when he comes, he instinctively pulls your head upward so you won’t choke. His hot cum spurts down your throat, and you have no choice but to swallow.

You surprise both yourself and him when you fight against his hand and force yourself down far enough so that your nose brushes the base of his cock, and you gag.

Your throat is so tight and hot that it drags his orgasm on for eternity. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears. His heart is racing out of his chest as if it has somewhere to be. The fire ripples through him, the inferno turning into a dangerous explosion that tears his nerves apart, putting them back together just to tear them apart again. He feels as though the skin is falling off his very fragile bones, and his muscles collapse in on themselves.

Matt can’t breathe. When he finally manages to untangle his hands from your hair, he lies there. The blood in his ears is obnoxious. He can’t hear. He can’t see. And suddenly, he can’t even feel anymore. He doesn’t exist. Reality slips away into a moment in time. Now, he’s dying. It feels like he is dying.

You pull off his cock, catching your breath. His cum trickles down the corner of your mouth. You wipe it away. Pressing a kiss to his hip bone, you look up through your lashes. At first, he looks blissed out, but his expression quickly changes.

He can’t talk. You take his hand. “Matt,” you coax him.

Not even his chest is lifting in time to accommodate his heavy breathing. His body is shaking as every ounce of stress falls off his shoulders, and his nerves fall victim to the inferno that is still wreaking havoc inside of him.

He taps your wrist three times.

“Okay,” you murmur. You quickly climb back up his body.

“Out,” he manages to tell you, weakly pointing to the earplugs.

“Okay, baby. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

You pull the earplugs out as fast as you can. Matt’s arms wrap around you, searching for a lifeline, and he pulls you against him.

“Shhh.” You cradle his head in the crook of your neck.

You hold him like this for a while. You hold him against you tightly, gently, as if he is the most fragile thing you have ever held.

Eventually, his breathing returns to normal. His heart starts to slow down. His fingertips no longer dig into your back as desperately as they have before. He’s just content now.

You press your lips to the crown of his head. “You okay?” you dare to ask.

Matt takes a moment before he nods. He leans back slightly. “Thank you,” he breathes.

“For what?”

His lips curl into a tired yet satisfied smile. “For helping me focus.”

You smile back at him. “My pleasure,” you say, and you lean down to capture his lips in a loving kiss.

“I love you,” he murmurs into the kiss.

“And I love you, Matthew Michael Murdock.”

“Oh, you love me that much, huh?”

You giggle, “Shut up!” before you pull him in for another kiss.

For now, he needs to catch his breath and pick up the pieces you shattered by giving him this orgasm, but you know that once he does, it is going to be a long night for you. And you won’t be able to find it in yourself to complain. Not that you want to, anyway.

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