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leclsrc · 1 year

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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day.

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes.

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading.

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka.

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward.

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed.

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control.

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time.

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.”

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.”

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 2 months

Note

As a follow up to you post about mentors, just to make things fair, what are examples of Tikki being a bad mentor to Marinette?

Post in question for context.

Tikki often acts as the voice of the author. She's there to explain why Marinette is in the wrong. Since Miraculous has some wacky morals, that means we get a mix of good advice and wacky nonsense advice.

Two examples of bad advice that come to mind are Gamer and Strikeback. Gamer is the episode where Marinette stumbles upon an Ultimate Mecha Strike tournament, realizes that Adrien is taking part, and decides to compete so they can be on a team together. Marinette wins a spot through her own hard won skills and then this happens:

Tikki: All you wanted to do is spend time with Adrien, there are other ways to do that! Marinette: What are you getting at? Tikki: You know how much Max wanted to be in that tournament. Kim said he'd been training for it all year. Marinette: You're right. All I could think about was Adrien.

This is how tournaments work, right? They're not tests of skill, but tests of who put in the most work or who wants to compete the most! That's why we had that scene with Marinette writing out her training schedule and motivations for evaluation, but she lied and that was wrong and...

Okay, I was the one lying here. There was no written evaluation because that's not how tournaments work. All anyone cares about is your skills. They don't care if you're doing this for personal glory or to get closer to a boy or whatever Adrien's motivation was because - notably - his motivation didn't matter in this episode about needing pure motives to be allowed to do things.

What if he didn't care about the competition and only did it to get closer to his classmates? That's not even a random guess. It's a valid read because Adrien ultimately gives his spot to Max while claiming that Max is the better player even though Adrien very clearly beat Max at the start of the episode. Ignoring that weird nonsense dialogue, why was it fine for Adrien to compete when he didn't care but wrong for Marinette to do the same? And Max wanting to compete to show off his skills is also a totally selfish motivation, so why does it matter that he wanted it more? Everything about this episode was nonsense and uncomfortably sexist. If Max wants to compete, then he needs to get better at the game. That's how competitions work.

Strikeback is the second part of the season four final and it starts with Marinette mourning the fact that "Adrien" has left Paris, leading to this:

Marinette: (crestfallen) It's all over, Tikki. Tikki: He'll be back, Marinette. He's just going on a voyage!

Which would be lovely advice if Adrien was a normal boy, but he's Chat Noir and Tikki knows that. She should be freaking out and trying to find a way to get him back to Paris, but then Tikki would have to support Marinette's actions and we can't have that, so instead Tikki gives this nonsense advice because she has to be against whatever "wrong" thing Marinette is doing today.

I could come up with a few more examples, but I think those two paint a pretty good picture of issue one re Tikki. However, when it comes to Tikki, my main issue with her is less a wealth of bad advice - unlike Plagg*, I think she's right more often than not - and more a lack of support. It feels like she's just here to judge Marinette and point out when she's doing something wrong, but a good mentor should be so much more than that.

Kuro Neko is a great example of this. When Chat Noir quits, Tikki just sits back and does nothing while her young charge is freaking out. She doesn't even try to defend Marinette when Plagg is going off about Chat Noir's "ill treatment". For all Plagg's faults in that episode, at least he's doing something about the situation. Meanwhile Tikki literally has two lines in the entire episode! A similar thing happens in Kwami's Choice where Plagg is the one driving them to act while Tikki just wrings her hands in despair.

Tikki: (sighs heavily) What can we do? Plagg: We must free them of that impossible choice. We must… free them of us.

These are not the actions of a mentor. Mentors aren't supposed to just offer judgement about things that their mentee has already done or is considering doing. They're supposed to be a source of support and guidance in hard times, but we never really see Tikki stepping in to give Marinette that kind of advice. If memory serves, she never offers solutions or acts as a sounding board. That role is mainly filled by Alya and I love Alya! It's good for Marinette to have support from a friend, but Alya is also a teenager while Tikki is an ancient being who has seen many Ladybugs go through the kind of struggles that Marinette is going through. I expect her to use that knowledge to help her charge, but she never does. This exchange from Passion perfectly highlights this problem:

Tikki: Don't worry, Plagg... my holder has decided to run away from her real feelings to pursue an impossible love with Cat Noir instead. Plagg: Uh, just to be sure, sugarcube, you do know that Cat Noir and my holder are one and the same person, right? Tikki: I do, but my holder doesn't. Plagg: If she declares her love to Cat Noir, something tells me she'll find out soon enough. Tikki: You have nothing to fear. When my holder is in love, she never gets anywhere. She'll just knit hats and make very complicated plans that will never come to fruition. Plagg: Hmm... ah, then everything's fine.

Tikki, I love you, but by the gods! With a mentor like you, Marinette doesn't need enemies to be miserable! Do you care about her at all??? What kind of mentor delights at their mentee's suffering? Not a good one, that's for sure.

*Quick note: I think that Plagg and Tikki are probably neck and neck for who has given the most bad advice, Plagg just feels like the bigger problem because we don't see him as much as we see Tikki. Since she's tied to the main character, Tikki gives advice in almost every episode and most episodes have decent morals.

Adrien's need for good advice can also feel more glaring because he's so isolated and passive. That makes Plagg's lack of good advice feel more harmful, but Marinette is just as isolated from real advice. Her mentor figures - Su Han, Fu, and Tikki - mostly give orders and judgement instead of support and guidance. It's just harder to spot that fact because Marinette is actively trying to do the right thing, meaning that she's more likely to make mistakes, and it's easy to see why she comes across as a lot less pathetic and a lot easier to judge.

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better #Tikki deserves better #plagg deserves better #red-balloon12 #mentor salt

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gutterfuuck · 5 months

Text

thinkin abt u and ur best friend mark…

cw: somno, pervy mark, drunk reader, mdni

bff!mark who gets touchy when you’re out and about, his hands always finding their way on your shoulder, thigh, neck. of course, he was protecting you! he had to keep you safe from all of the other bad men, it was what best friends were for, right?

bff!mark who forgets to return your pajamas from the night before, hoping that you would eventually forget about them too, so he could continue sniffing at your clothes, his mouth hanging open while he fucks his fist.

bff!mark who apologises for the weird mark that stained the seat of your pajama shorts, swearing up and down that he knew how bad it looked and that he had no idea how it had gotten there. best friends don’t lie to each other, after all.

bff!mark who lets you get just a little bit more tipsy than you should be; helping you swallow down yet another drink even after you had insisted that it was to be your last.

bff!mark who damn near almost has to carry you across campus on his back, your high heels in his hand as not to lose them, he knew that they were your favourite.

bff!mark who holds your door open for you, watching as you stumbled into your home, tripping over nothing, resting on your bed.

bff!mark who doesn’t have a problem with sleeping over in your room for the night, you were his best friend.

bff!mark who starts to strip you naked, trying his best to avert his eyes from your body while he attempted to change your clothes for you, not being able to resist looking at your tits, your nipples pebbling up from the cold air.

bff!mark who’s hands start to roam your barely conscious body, pulling your pants down to your ankles to take you all in. he was just cleaning you up a little, changing you so you’d be clean for bed.

bff!mark who buried his face into your crotch, sniffing you like he had sniffed your clothes, his heart thumping as he debated whether he should taste your cunt, just one lick, one taste and he’ll be done…

bff!mark who has no idea what he’s doing, his tongue flicking against your clit mindlessly. you tasted so sweet to him, making out with your pussy, kissing your little nub lovingly.

bff!mark who is painfully hard, his cock straining against his pants as he palmed his clothed bulge, looking down on your sleeping body, knowing that he was violating you in your own bed, knowing that your roommate could walk in at any time and ruin his fun.

bff!mark who’s hands fully yank your pants past your ankles, leaving you completely nude, eating you up with his eyes.

bff!mark who apologises while he jerks off over your unconscious form, occasionally slowing down to rub his leaking tip all over your lips, guilt slowly slipping away as he lost himself in you,

“sorry… ‘m so sorry..” he says in between heavy breaths, the thought of you waking up in the morning and knowing none the wiser making him throb.

bff!mark who is scrambling to stuff his dick back into his pants as if he had never done anything wrong, searching his blank and flustered brain for an excuse as to why you were naked.

“i thought id clean you up”, “you threw up all over yourself”, “you trust your best friend right, y/n?”

and who are you to judge him?

bff!mark who watches you stand up clumsily, your tits bouncing as you walk over to your messy desk, pulling one of his shirts over your head. he had left it in your room some time ago, and you had been using it as a pajama top.

bff!mark who can’t stop himself from blurting out how good you looked, even with your makeup smudged and your hair in a mess. you smiled back, best friends were supposed to compliment you, no matter how pervy it came off as sometimes.

bff!mark who takes advantage of your drunken, sloppy state, his pockets almost bulging with panties you would never see again and would blame on the community dryer that you swore had eaten up your sweaty t-shirt, the same shirt that mark used as a pillowcase, falling asleep to your smell.

bff!mark who regrets not holding you down, covering your mouth with his hand and just using your body to get himself off, telling you how much he needed this and how much he wanted you.

bff!mark who tucks you into bed, waiting for you to fall back into a deep sleep before he’s fisting his cock with his hand again over you,

“you’re gonna take it- fuckkk, i’m gonna make you take m-me-“

he groans, mumbling to you as if you could hear him,

“g’na shove it in-inside… get you pregnant- hng..”

bff!mark who pumps his cock faster, chasing his approaching orgasm, body tensing up as he shot white ropes onto your sleeping face, hips stuttering as he carried on stroking his length, overstimulating himself to ride out this moment for longer.

bff!mark who pulls out his phone, taking picture after picture of the way his cum glazed your face and leaked down your cheek,

“y/n, i’m so sorry… sorry..”

he whispers sweetly, wiping the mess he made on your face away with the sleeve of his hoodie, planting kisses all over your face.

bff!mark who finds himself in his boxers, sneaking under the covers to sleep beside his best friend, a regular occurrence after you had drank for the night.

bff!mark who whispers goodnight into your unhearing ears, kissing your forehead and pulling you into his arms. you wouldn’t question it in the morning, as usual. you trusted your best friend, even when you woke up with mark’s dick pressed against your ass. it was just morning wood, it wasn’t on purpose. you trusted your best friend.

#mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #mark grayson smut #invincible #cnc somno #fem reader #somno k!nk #invincible x reader #dark blog #bff!mark grayson

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peterman-spideyparker · 5 months

Text

Stolen Glances (College!Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I've been on a writing hiatus after feeling uninspired after a long while, and I think it's kind of helped reset my creative juices. I'm entering my busy season at work, so I don't know how much time I'll have for writing in the future, but I'm back to feeling more like myself. I figured one of the best ways to return to writing was with some College Matt! Enjoy! :)

Summary: Your best friend convinces you to go out with her to a bar to celebrate the start of spring break, and to your surprise, the night takes an unexpected turn for the better when your friend calls over two people she knows from her law classes—one of whom you just so happen to have a huge crush on.

Warnings: Flirting, swearing, reader nickname (not-name specific) drinking, kissing, getting caught in the rain, smut (oral-f!receiving, Matt's mouth being a menace, praise kink, Matt being a lil' tiny touch possessive, Matt lightly biting at Reader's shoulder, p in v protected sex, aftercare)

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, OFCs

Word Count: 6,084

“Stop staring,” Amy says as she sips her drink.

“I’m not,” you murmur as you roll your beer bottle absentmindedly on the sticky bar counter of Josie’s. How Amy even got you out tonight is beyond you. You don’t go to bars. You’re not even a big fan of going out in general. But tonight, you caved, and followed her in the rain to a dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen for cheep beer, gossip, and people watching. And it’s people watching that lead your eyes to land on one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. Matt Murdock—enter frantically smitten swoon here. He’s a law student with a voice like honey, a smile that could light up a room, and the best ass in the entire world.

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you had to stumble into the one that he was in.

“You are,” Amy counters.

“Not.”

“Are.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “Glancing. Let me have this.”

“He’s single, you know. Broke up with the girl he was dating all last year.”

“Which means he’s not looking for anyone.”

“Or he rebounds fast and wants to get under someone. Er, have someone get under him. Hell, I don’t know what he’s in to.”

“Ames.”

“What? I’m just speculating. Just like you are ogling him.”

“Again, not ogling. Glancing. Besides, he’s way out of my league. And you know what? This, right here, is a perfect situation for me—it’s a crowded bar, he’s blind, no one here knows me or cares about me and won’t think twice of me looking in that direction. This is the only time I can pine after someone and not get flustered and weird if he looks in my direction or watch Cindy from my Brontë’s class try to show off her cleavage to get his attention. And she totally would, event to the one guy that literally can’t see it. Which brings me back exactly to my point—he can’t see us here or the undoubtedly big heart shapes my eyes are in.”

“What if his friend does?”

“He has his back to us, he won’t—.”

“FOGGY!”

“You are a major asshole, you know that?” you hiss as you whip your head around to scowl at her.

“Well, now, you can glance up close, see the finer details. Maybe accidentally touch his big arms?” she says with an innocent smile and delightfully raised eyebrows. “Or something else big.”

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice. Besides, they’re my friends. You survive Professor Murphy’s class together, you’re blood brothers for life—Hey, Fog! Murdock!”

“I didn’t know you guys came to Josie’s,” Foggy smiles as they get close enough to where the two of you sit. “If I had, I would’ve invited you to some of our post-test outings.”

“Well, Kitty here is a lightweight, so it’s not often I get to bring her to bars. I think I finally convinced her because it’s the Friday before spring break and she doesn’t have to do homework right this moment,” Amy hums. She so knows what she is doing, and you don’t know if you should kick her in the shins or be eternally grateful for how Matt turns his head to you next.

“Kitty?” Matt smiles, and it makes your cheeks burn. He wets his lips lightly as he turns his body toward you, and you can’t help but duck your gaze and shrink in on yourself a bit.

“An unfortunate nickname that has followed me since I was four and can’t seem to shake,” you explain. “Now that I’m not four, (Y/N) just fine.”

“It’s cute, though. Maybe you’ll tell me the story.”

Fuck, why’d he have to say it like that? You’d tell him absolutely anything he’d want if he spoke to you like that again.

“Maybe,” you breathe. “Maybe not.”

The smile he flashes you is soft, dreamy, and alluring. “Someday it is, then.”

“Why don’t you two take a seat with us?” Amy asks as she swallows the last of her drink. “Have a few rounds with us. I mean, you guys know me, but let’s include (Y/N) into the fold. Probably good that you two legal goobers befriend an English major. Help you guys avoid being duped in a contract or something because of semantics or syntax or something.”

“Offense,” Foggy scoffs.

“(Y/N)’s worst is still better than your best, and you know it.”

“Down, Ames,” you chuckle, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Remember what I said about being nice?”

“Amy? Nice?” Matt smirks. “I’m afraid we haven’t earned that privilege.”

“So, how long have you known Amy?” Foggy asks as he waves Josie over for another round.

“Too long,” you chuckle, earning you a playful kick under the bar.

“Harsh,” Matt hums.

“For someone who’s basically my sister? Nah. We’ve been friends since we could toddle around,” Amy shrugs. “You two should understand that one—I mean, roommates for two years and essentially an identical course load? You’re as good as brothers.”

“Very true,” Foggy smiles as he opens his next beer. “I mean, sure, Matt got all the good looks, but I have the boyish wit and knack for sarcastic comments.”

“Seems like a pretty perfect pairing to me,” you add.

Foggy claps Matt’s back with a big smile. “See that, pal? Even the people that just meet us can see we’re a perfect match! Murdock and Nelson, taking New York City law by storm! Rolling in the money, the biggest of the bigs wanting us on retainer!”

“A real life Harvey Spector and Mike Ross,” Amy says with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Take it from a blind man, Nelson and Murdock has a better ring to it,” Matt hums as he sips his beer. “And while money is nice, there’s still something really nice about saving the world.“

“Matty the Martyr,” he sighs. “You know, (Y/N), my parents wanted me to be a butcher.”

“Fog, please, not the butcher story!” Matt begs.

“Yeah, please,” Amy seconds. “(Y/N) doesn’t need to hear it.”

“Ugh, tough crowd tonight,” he sighs. “You’ll hear about it, (Y/N) . . . someday.”

“Mildly ominous. Definitely non-threatening,” you grin before everyone starts to laugh. “So, what brings you guys out? Is this a post-test outing?”

“Nah, just a Friday night,” Matt smiles.

“Well,” Amy says, holding up her new drink. “To just a Friday night.”

You all clink the necks of the bottles together before you drink, chatting briefly before Amy playfully insults Foggy’s pool playing skills. The two of them down their drinks before they make their way to the pool table to prove one another wrong.

“I don’t know how those two are friends, sometimes,” Matt chuckles.

“Well, Amy has three brothers,” you hum. “She loves pushing people’s buttons like that.”

“And Foggy doesn’t back down from challenges like that. Although, I agree that Amy could wipe the floor with Fog at pool.”

You laugh, biting your lip from laughing too loud in the bar. “I won’t tell him you said that.”

“Eh,” he squeaks. “I think he knows where I stand on his pool skills. I mean, a blind guy can beat him.”

You feel your face grow hot with the attention he’s giving you, but it’s all very welcome as you both begin to chat about whatever comes to your minds. For how pretty he is and how flustered you get talking into to people you find attractive, conversation comes so easily with Matt. You feel like you could tell him anything. But that’s the dangerous thing—there’s no way this could work, as a friend or for whatever your brain could dream up. He’s too . . . magnetic. You’d misread something, and in the end, you’d be the one getting hurt. Besides, if you’ve learned anything from Amy, part of being an attorney is learning how to charm the pants off of whomever you’re talking to. And unfortunately for you, you’re just the girl at the bar he’s trying to schmooze only to never see again.

“(Y/N)?” he asks, trying to catch your attention.

“Hm?” you hum, snapping out of it.

His face is soft, but definitely concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter. “I was just thinking of something.”

He raises his eyebrows, silently asking if you want to talk about it, but a small pang in your chest makes you want to run away and hide in a corner.

“I don’t think pool is supposed to take that long,” you say, changing the subject and craning your neck around the bar to try and spot your friends. “I have absolutely no idea where Amy went. It looks like Foggy’s gone, too.”

Matt lets out a small, breathy laugh with a knowing grin.

“Do you want to share the joke with the class?”

“Fog’s been on my case lately about meeting new people. I wouldn’t be surprised if he conspired with Amy.”

“You know, I’d say that’s impossible, but Amy is always trying to set me up and calling me Hermit Homebody.”

“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue like 'Kitty'.”

“It’s more alliterative, though.”

“So,” he hums, turning his body toward yours. “What’s the story behind Kitty?”

“You’re gonna judge.”

He holds out his pinky to you. “No judgement. Promise.”

You lick your lips before you move your hand to lock your pinky with his.

“I really loved Hello Kitty when I was little. I basically wanted to be Hello Kitty. Like, absolutely obsessed—alarm clock, bedsheets, plushies, the whole shebang. I even dressed like Hello Kitty. Yellow shirt, blue overalls or an overall dress, and a red bow in my hair, and I had Hello Kitty socks to wear with my sneakers or little Mary Jane’s. It made getting dressed easy, but it definitely annoyed my mom after a bit.”

“That’s really cute.”

“It’s really not,” you chuckle.

“It is, trust me. And, if it makes you feel any better, a lot of free public domain braille texts were legal documents; after the accident that blinded me, that’s all my dad could really get me between hospital bills, trauma therapy and recovery, and our regular bills. I read a lot of Frederick Douglas while he did boxing practice. Between reading those and my dad’s hope for me to get a good job and use my brain instead of my fists, that’s what drove me to be a lawyer. I’m not sure I would have applied to law school if not for that.”

“Wow. That’s . . . amazing. Honestly.”

His brows furrow slightly as he tilts his head down slightly. “I like to think that I’m making him proud. But I’m afraid that I’ll end up letting him down eventually. He . . . He gave me so much, he gave up so much. For me.”

You place your hand on his that’s resting atop of the bar, giving it a squeeze. “The fact that you know the extent of your dad’s sacrifices and you’re worried about letting him down means that you couldn’t possibly disappoint him.”

Matt nods and you see his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows hard. You could swear that you see a tear roll down his cheek, but you’re distracted when he turns his hand over to hold onto yours better, lacing his fingers in yours.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, taking a deep breath. “Hearing that . . . it means a lot.”

“It’s just the truth as I see it.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” Matt hums as he turns his head toward you. “We could grab a bite, just walk around.”

“No ulterior motives?”

“Not unless you want me to have ulterior motives.”

You look at him, your heart beating so loudly in your chest, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Okay,” he breathes. “Then no ulterior motives.”

“I’m not opposed to stopping at the soft pretzel cart that’s a few blocks over, though.”

He gives you a small smile.

“Something funny?”

“Beer and pretzels,” he hums.

“Har har.”

“C’mon,” he says with a little jerk of his head. “Lead the way.”

Putting some money on the counter to cover your drinks, you slide off of the barstool, your hand still in Matt’s as he mimics your movement before unfurling his cane. You both walk in comfortable silence, recalling little anecdotes from your childhoods as you stroll along the route.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you laugh.

“I’m not,” he says with a big smile. “I got so much hell from the nuns for it. Father Lantom put on a little show and was a little mad about it, yeah, but the ‘talking to’ that he gave me was about the Yankees game. In fairness, I honestly did worse when I was younger—probably took years off of all of their lives. Probably still do, when they think too hard about it.”

“Gosh,” you say with another laugh. “You’re such a daredevil.”

“Hey, I’ve turned out just fine. For the most part.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point. You seem pretty alright.”

“Pretty alright?” he croons. “I’ll take it. Any pointers for how I can increase my ranking, though?”

“Well, if I told you, it’d be too easy,” you smirk as you approach your destination. “Heya, Boyd.”

“Kitty!” he beams. “Long time no see! You’re usual?”

“That’d be great. School’s been busy.”

“You know she’s in Columbia?” he starts to tell Matt. “Smartest girl I know.”

“She is amazing,” Matt says, and you feel your cheeks burn hot.

“Matt’s one of my classmates,” you explain.

“Ah, so you’re a smart one, too. Kitty here is one of a kind—don’t do anything stupid to loose this one.”

“I’ll do my best not to,” he smiles.

“D’you want anything with yours?”

“Mustard, please.”

Boyd hands Matt his pretzel, but puts his hand up when you try to pay.

“Not tonight, Kitty,” he says. “My treat.”

“Don’t be silly, Boyd,” you counter. “You know our rule, only on birthdays.”

“Yeah, but you included me on your date. I feel real special. All warm and fuzzy like.”

Your cheeks burn even hotter when he says “date”— you appreciate that Boyd thinks you’re in the same league.

“Please?” you try.

“Alright. But you’re getting your change back. This one, she always tries to scurry away before I can give her her change back!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t escape,” Matt chuckles, his hand resting on your waist, the gentle touch sending goosebumps up your spine.

“Atta boy. You know, I like this one. He ain’t that bad. Here, Kitty. Have a nice night, you two!”

“Night, Boyd!” you smile.

“Nice to meet you,” Matt adds. Once you’re out of earshot, he asks, “How come he can call you Kitty?”

“Because Boyd has known me since I was six,” I chuckle before I take another bite of my pretzel. “You’ve gotta earn it.”

“Oh, so now you’ll let me earn the chance to call you Kitty?”

“If you play your cards right.”

“Sounds like a challenge.”

“You seem like the kind of guy that likes challenges.”

He grins and raises his eyebrows as if conceding to your point before taking a bite of is pretzel, licking up the mustard at the corner of his mouth. The absolutely obscene thoughts that cross your mind when he does that would even make a sinner in church blush—but also appreciate the sentiment. You finish your pretzels quickly, continue to walk aimlessly around and talk about whatever comes to your mind.

“Wow,” you hum as you look at a clock on the other side of the park we’re walking through.

“What?” he hums.

“It’s almost three.”

“Seriously? No.” You feel Matt’s arms shift, and you watch his fingers slide over the face of his watch. “Shit. It’s almost three. I didn’t think we were talking for that long.”

“Me either. Not that I’m complaining about it.”

“Neither am I.”

“Maybe we’re just really slow walkers?”

Matt laughs. “It is a really nice night.”

There’s a comfortable silence before you speak next. “I don’t do this, normally. Go out—go out to a bar, no less—walk with guys aimlessly around the city.”

“Tell people the story of your nickname? Or bring them to meet your pretzel godfather?” he teases gently, and you chuckle softly and nod.

“Definitely not either of those.” You take in a deep breath before you continue. “Something feels different tonight, though, and I like it. And I only started liking it when you and Foggy joined us at our table.”

“Yeah?” he says so softly you almost don’t hear it.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“If it makes you feel any better, I like it, too.”

Your gaits slow before Matt turns into you, a relaxed, dreamy look on his face. It’s not a face you’ve seen him flash the girls on campus—the cocky, over-confident swagger that’s usually there replaced with something almost dreamy and entirely genuine. Your heart starts to race as he leans in, but you both freeze in place when the sky opens up and you get caught in a sudden downpour. You squeak and he lets out a soft grunt before Matt hand grabs yours, and you rush toward the sidewalk. You raise your hand to wave down an oncoming taxi, and as you both slide in, Matt gives his address to the cabbie.

The ride is short, but it’s definitely better than making the trip in the pouring rain. When the cabbie pulls to the curb, Matt hands him the fare and the tip, opening the door and sliding out first, waiting for you to follow. He uses his large frame to try and shield you from the rain as you run into the lobby of his dorm, tracking in puddles into the elevator.

“Would Foggy mind if I crash here for the night? I mean, what’s left of it,” you ask, your arms hugging yourself as you shiver in front of his door.

“You don’t need to worry about him. He’s staying with his family for the first half of break,” Matt says as he slides the key into the lock, leading you into the very nice dorm apartment. “It’s just us here.”

“Ah,” you hum softly, looking around the space. “I wish my dorm looked like this. I think I chose the wrong major.”

Matt chuckles softly as he moves about the space. “Well, each year we get better housing choices, and the ADA complaint dorms were updated a few years ago. Foggy just reaps the rewards of being my friend.”

“Well, it is very nice. Definitely decorated by boys, though.”

Matt chuckles softly, walking into what you assume is his room before coming back out in pajamas, a folded set of clothes in his extended hand.

“Thanks,” you smile as you take the sweatshirt and sweatpants out of his hands.

“Can’t have you be chilly,” he hums. “Let’s face it—Amy would kill me if I let you catch a cold.”

“You, Foggy, and then me. In that order,” you laugh. “You know, I honestly thought it was done raining for the night.”

“I’m just glad we caught a cab. And that you let me pay.”

“Well, you gave them the address to your dorm. Seemed right that you foot the bill.”

Matt chuckles as you turn to side off your wet clothes and put on his fluffy sweater and sweats. Yes, it feels a little odd to change in front of him, but it’s not like he can see you in your underwear, and you need to get these wet clothes off. And if tonight has taught you anything, Matt is someone you feel comfortable and safe around.

“Let’s hope these dry by the morning,” you say, folding your soaked clothes and putting them over the stool in the kitchen area.

“You can keep them as long as you need. Something tells me I’ll get them back eventually.”

You blush deeply. “In a timely manner. Promise.”

“I’m not gonna force you out when the sun comes up, you know,” Matt continues. “We can go down and throw your clothes into the dryer in the morning. Maybe go grab breakfast after they’re out.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Want to go to the living room?”

“No ulterior motives?” you smirk.

He laughs, and you swear you just made him to blush. “No. Not unless you want there to be,” he responds.

“I don’t think I’d be opposed to some.”

Matt slides off his glasses, placing them on the kitchen table. His eyes sparkle in the moonlight coming through the window, taking a half step forward and placing his hands on your waist. You lean in to help close the space between your bodies, and when his lips finally meet yours, you feel your heart skip a beat as electricity shoots through your veins. You slide your hands up his body to cradle is face as he pulls you in even closer. The kiss is passionate, tender, and everything that a kiss should be. When he pulls back, you’re breathless and dizzy in all the best ways. His forehead rests on yours, and you desperately wish he’d lean in for another kiss.

“Are those acceptable motives?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours.

“Mm,” you hum. “Very.”

He smiles, leaning in for another kiss, the force of the embrace knocking the back of your legs against the sofa. You pull him into you, knocking the pair of you down on the couch, his body crushing yours in the most glorious of ways for a moment until he can position himself better on the furniture. His hands have a firm grip on your body, sending wave after wave of chills up your spine as you chase his lips for more kisses. One of his large hands cradles the back of your head, holding you closer so he can gain better access to the kiss, and you realize his glasses aren’t perched on his face anymore. You don’t even know when he would’ve have a chance to take them off. But do you really care?

No. No you don’t.

As you make out, Matt slides you onto his lap, giving you a bit more leverage as you embrace. You lips mirror one another’s, curving up into smiles. You take in a sharp breath as you feel his hands slide under the sweater and up your back, the simple action sending goosebumps up your spine. You moan into the embrace and lean forward to deepen it, accidentally nipping his lower lip between yours. It elicits a strong response from Matt, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave little bruises as souvenirs before moving up to tug at the hair at the nape of your neck. His fingers should have their own insurance policy, because wherever they trace on your body feels like a million dollars—the warmth, the strength, the grip—goes straight to the apex of your thighs. Firm, relaxing, and downright sinful.

You pull back from the kiss, Matt’s swollen lips chasing yours as you lean away, turning your head to yawn.

“Am I putting you to sleep, sweetheart?” he smirks, softly kissing your neck before moving so his face points toward yours.

“You’re definitely relaxing me, that’s for sure,” you tell him as you look back at his face. “It’s just been a really long week.”

“We can stop if you want.”

“You stop, and I’m telling Amy and Foggy.”

“Oh, well, we can’t have that.”

“No, we can’t.”

With more smiles, you lean back into the kiss. Matt’s grip is firm on your waist before sliding his hands down and over the globes of your ass, moving to your upper thighs before lifting you up. You’re too focused on his lips to try and watch where he’s taking you, even though you have a good idea. You moan into his mouth as you feel Matt lay you down on his mattress.

“At least if you get a little too tired to keep going, you can fall asleep in a bed,” he whispers before he starts to kiss your neck.

“So kind of you.”

“I try.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Can I keep going?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

Matt flashes you a devilish grin before leaning back in, his hands sliding up under the borrowed sweatshirt tracing the curves of your body.

“You can take it off, you know,” you murmur against his lips. “It’s your shirt, after all.”

He hums in delight, doing as you ask and ridding the fabric from your body and pushing it to the side. “You’re chilly now,” he hums kissing all over the exposed skin, pulling soft moans from your throat.

It’s your turn to slither your hands up against his rock-hard body under his clothes, lightly raking your fingernails along his skin. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“I have a few ideas.”

“Then show me.”

Matt’s lips slot back over yours, tasting every ounce of your mouth that he can. He pulls back, whipping his shirt off. You’re unable to prevent your jaw from dropping when you see his exposed chest, a little wooden cross hanging from a cord around his neck a strong contrast from his fair skin and rippling muscles. It doesn’t hang too long, the space between the two of you closed just as swiftly as it was created before his hands deftly undoes your bra. Matt’s hands slide the straps down your arms, tossing it to the side before his large hands palm at the fleshy mounds, his hips inadvertently beginning to roll against your legs.

“Mm,” you hum as you start to mark his neck. “I’d say we’re moving fast, but, I like where we’re moving. Seems like you do, too.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Let me lay you down and make you feel good, angel.”

“Mm, ‘angel’,” you smirk as you pull him on top of you. “Sounds better than ‘Kitty’. Better not be calling any other girls that.”

“It’ll be just for you. Swear.”

“Good.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna try and stop earning the right to call you Kitty, though.”

“Consider it earned. Can even call me Kitten. Now, please tell me you have some condoms here.”

“Mm, I do. But, the thing is, that pretzel left me hungry, angel. I need to eat a little more.”

Your brows furrow before Matt holds your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. He trails his kisses down the column of your neck, moving lower with each embrace, down your chest and torso until his lips reach where your skin and his sweatpants meet.

“Is it okay if I pull these down, sweetheart?” he asks, pressing feather-soft kisses on your stomach. “Can I kiss you there? Can I taste you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe a little too quickly, moving your fingers into his soft hair. “Please.”

He smiles, kissing your belly button before curling his fingers round the waistband of the sweats and underwear and sliding them down your legs. His strong hands gently part your legs, exposing yourself to him, his soft, pouty lips kissing back and forth along your inner thighs until his nose brushes the slick folds. A soft moan escapes your throat, so quiet that you almost don’t hear it. As soon as it leaves your lips, you swear you hear Matt growl a little before diving in between your legs. This time, you moan louder, your back arching off of the bed and your fingers clutching the sheets.

“Matt!” you squeak. His hands are firm on your hips, keeping his face buried in your core, tasting and savoring you like you’re the sweetest of desserts. Your chest heaves as you squirm against him, but each movement of your body only spurs him on to hold you tighter. He hums into your pussy, the vibrations working all the way up your body.

“M-Matt,” you stutter, feeling yourself get wound tightly as he works diligently between your legs. “Matt, I—oh, fuck!”

Matt just hums, keeping pace and enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. You continue to whimper, whine, and squirm, biting your lip harder as you get closer to your release. You suck in a sharp breath when you feel Matt pull away from you, his face in your direction, his mouth and chin shiny with your slick.

“Don’t hold back, angel. I’ve got you,” he pants. “Make those pretty noises for me. It’s just you and me, okay? Don’t worry about if anyone else can hear. It’s just you and me.”

“Okay,” you say breathily with a frantic nod. “Okay.”

“Good girl.”

You could cum with those two words, and the quick twitch at the corner of his mouth tells me that he knows it, too. With a lick of his lips, he dives back down without missing a beat, sliding two thick fingers into you, gently pumping them and curling his fingers to squish against the perfect spot that makes your vision go spotty. You let out your loudest cry of the night, the sheer volume hurting your throat a little. It elicits a deep growl from Matt, and with one more lick, you’re quaking and unraveling on his face. Little tremors continue to jolt through your body as Matt works to lick up every last drop of you before pressing a soft kiss on your swollen nub and kissing his way back up your body.

You lean up and crash your lips into his, desperate for him. Matt eagerly kisses you back, letting you taste yourself, exploring how you mix with him.

“Are you up for more?” he pants as he pulls back, trying to smooth down your tousled hair.

“Please,” you say, the faintest hint of a whine in your voice. “I’m ready.”

Matt smiles, pecking your lips quickly before leaning back and taking his sweats off. Your eyes involuntarily widen when you see just how big he is. If tonight with Matt hasn’t ruined other men for you yet, the feeling of him inside you and how it will undoubtedly linger for days will.

“You okay?” he pants as he works to slide on the condom.

“I’m doing great,” you swallow, trying to remain coherent through the bliss.

His laugh is like warm tea with honey.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

With the condom firmly on, he leans forward to kiss you slowly. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Matt kisses you again, adjusting the pillows behind you as he lines himself up with your entrance. He places his hands on you gently, forehead resting on yours, before carefully starting to slide in. You bite your lip as your eyes flutter shut, your head suddenly becoming too heavy as you let it roll to the side and rest against his neck.

“Matt,” you breathe.

“Prefect,” he pants as he slowly pushes forward. “Perfect.”

“M-Matt,” you whimper as you stretch around him. “Big.”

“Do you need me to stop?” he whispers. “Does it hurt?”

“N-No. ’s great. So great.”

“Say the word if you need me to stop, okay? If it’s too much?”

“Okay.”

Your faces turn toward one another, and for the briefest of moments, Matt’s eyes lock onto yours. You feel your heart skip a beat and jump up right into your throat. This is ridiculous—tonight is the first time you’ve actually met him rather than stare at him and wish from a distance, and it’s like your entire universe is on its head. Matt tenderly leans forward, his lips on yours, fueled with a softer passion than what has dictated your embraces for the night. The roll of his hips is slow, and you feel everything ten times over. You hold onto Matt as if your life depends on it, and you let him work as he marks up your neck and shoulder with little bites.

“Don’t stop,” you plea. “Don’t stop. Matt, please don’t stop!”

Your pleas and whimpers spur Matt to pick up his pace. As he does so, his own soft moans grow louder in your ear, and it drives you wild. The springs of the mattress move from a quiet creak to an all consuming squeak, perfectly punctuated by the headboard hitting the wall.

“Matt!” you cry out, pulling probably harder than you should at his hair.

“Such a good pussy,” he grunts. “All for me. You’re so good for me, angel. Feel so perfect.”

“Please!”

“Hm?”

“Fuck, Matt! You’re—oooohhhh!”

“Perfect f’me, angel. Such a good girl. My good girl.”

The sound of your slapping skin adds to the erotic symphony in the room, sweat quickly lining your bodies. You whimper as you nuzzle into him, muttering incoherent sentences as his pelvis rubs against your sensitive core, building you up to knock you over with intense pleasure. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and pull a deep growl from the back of his throat. He nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before slotting his lips over yours.

“Matt,” you whimper, really drawing out the vowel in his name. “Matt, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Let it out,” he encourages. “Cum for me. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good. Let me hear you, angel.”

Matt kisses the sweet spot on your neck and pulls a needy whine from you. A stuttered whine pulls from your lips as your eyes pinch shut and you claw your fingers into Matt’s back. You cry out at the top of your lungs as a second wave of pleasure washes over you. With Matt in you, dragging against every right spot, it feels so much better than with his mouth. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, and you cry out in pleasure even louder. The pace of Matt’s hips move even faster, albeit at a more unsteady rhythm with an increased sense of urgency as he tries to soothe the sting of his teeth. His moans turn into grunts, a delight to your ears.

“Harder,” you beg. “Harder, Matt.”

You feel Matt nod his head against yours, doing as you ask, his lips brushing faint kisses against your cheek. You cry out once more, Matt’s hips pulling one more orgasm from you as he hits his high, spilling into his condom with punctuated thrusts.

Your breathing is heavy as your bodies still, sweat clinging to your skin and soaking the sheets. You chuckle softly as Matt places gentle kisses along your neck, his nose tickling you just so before pulling himself off of you and sliding out. He does it slowly, and you moan softly from the sensitivity and the loss of him. He ties off the condom, shuffling out of bed to throw it away. Matt briefly rounds the corner, coming back with a towel in hand. Without a single word, he carefully spreads your legs, gently cleaning the mess between your thighs. His lips softly kiss your knees and thighs has he works, and you can’t help but smile. He tosses the cloth to the side, it landing perfectly on the edge of his hamper. Matt slides back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and letting you adjust in his hold, kissing your forehead.

“What?” he whispers so softly you want to melt.

“You have freckles,” you whisper back just as quietly as you look up at him. “They’re a little hard to see, but they’re there.”

“Yeah?” he says with a tender smile.

“Mm.” Carefully, you move your fingers against the skin on his cheek, tracing over the faint constellation on his fair skin.

“What?” he whispers again with a little smirk.

“How do you know I’m thinking?”

“Call it a hunch.”

You smile softly. “It’s just . . . I wasn’t planning on coming out tonight. I don’t go out. I don’t go to bars. I don’t do this. Any of this.”

“I think you mentioned that earlier,” he hums with a cheeky smile. God, his voice is like a warm blanket that you just want to snuggle up in.

“It just felt right, with you. I’m really glad I came out tonight.”

“Can I let you in on a secret?” You give him a hum in response. He pulls you closer and presses a long, slow kiss to your lips. “I’m really, really glad you came out, too.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione @catnip987 @blackhawkfanatic

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia

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werecreature-addicted · 1 year

Note

hi! I'm a new follower to your blog and I absolutely love your writing!

I was wondering if I could humbly request a little follow-up to the farmer and the minotaur blurb? the way you wrote that was so incredibly sweet and tender and I just loved it so much 🥰🥰

if the inspiration doesn't strike you though, no worries at all! I adore your work and want you to write what feels good to you! ☺️☺️

have a lovely day!

Part one for those of you who haven't seen it

The two of you are lying in the field together, his big head in your lap, horns angled so they don't poke you. This is something new the two of you are trying out. He finds that he likes touching you, being gentle with you, and feeling your warm skin under his rough fingers.

You're happy to comply. You like that you get to build trust with him, and well- it feels nice to have his hands on you. It's slow going, still just testing the waters, but it's a start.

He finds that he can relax like this. It's odd he's never been able to relax with another person there, but your presence is so calming. He realizes that he trusts you. and that leaves him feeling weird.

Sadly, the two of you can't cuddle forever. One of the neighboring farmers comes over to talk business, and you get up to greet them. Your minotaur hates it. He hates having anyone but you on the farm. It's his job to keep you safe, and this stranger could be a threat. Okay maybe it's not his job, but he will protect you.

He refuses to leave your side as you talk to the other man. He glares at the other farmer as the two of you talk about something or other, he isn't really listening.

"Please, will you at least consider it?" the other farmer says and takes your hand in his. "I need you."

Suddenly, your minotaur is very interested in this conversation. It sounded almost romantic. The way this other man is looking at you, touching you, it drives him insane.

"I'm flattered but-" you start, trying to pull your hand back,

"Please-" the other farmer begs, pulling you back to him. Your minotaur steps in. He's gentle when he pushes you behind him, always gentle with you. Then he turns on the other man.

"They said no," He growls. The other farmer stumbles back, clearly frightened. Good. He should know he can't pressure you into anything, not with your Gaurd Bull here to protect you.

The incident bothers him for the rest of the day. He doesn't want anyone else close to you like that. He keeps imagining what he would have done if you'd said yes to that man. Even if you said no to his particular human, you'll say yes to someone. And he hates that certainty. He wants to keep you all to himself.

He's lived a hard life. Never before has he had something that was his alone. Is it so wrong that he wants to own your heart? Probably. Probably, he's selfish, a monster, for thinking he could have you in any real way.

His hands were meant for violence. Just because he's practiced being gentle with you doesn't mean that it's not true. He doesn't deserve you... but the thought of you with someone else makes him sick.

#minotaur x reader #minotaur boyfriend #monster imagine #monster fucker #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster boy #angst

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disneyprincemuke · 6 months

Text

forever wouldn't wait for us * fem!driver

logan's moving out

pairings: 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: hi please give this attention im not even kidding how difficult it was to write this like i'm actually kinda sad

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

liam scowls, throwing his head back. he points his hand towards logan, sat on the couch, fiddling with a rubix cube he’d found underneath the couch. “you’re not even helping!”

“i didn’t know kidnapper took my rubix cube,” logan mutters.

the girl passes him, walking between the couch and the coffee table, snatching away the rubix cube from his hands. “you don’t even know how to play with a rubix cube,” she mutters, “and this is mine.”

logan huffs, rolling his eyes and throws his arms into the air. “you never let me have anything.”

she furrows her eyebrows. “you moved into my furnished apartment at the start of last year.”

“there’s gotta be something in the living room that’s mine,” logan frowns, looking around for something to take with him.

“what time are we drinking?” oscar throws his head back, looking over from the dining table. on the table is a set of uno cards messily strewn in different directions. on his right is lily and to his left is ylona with a small grin. “you guys are taking too long.”

“we wouldn’t be taking so long if everyone helped like they promised,” she huffs underneath her breath with a small eye roll. “anyway, logan’s still trying out being a thief right in front of my eyes.”

“babe,” ylona snorts, “don’t steal from rocky.”

mick walks out of logan’s room, a box of neatly folded clothes inside. he drops it right by the kitchen where the rest of logan’s boxes rest, stacked above one another. “logan loves stealing from rocky.”

“i do not!” logan defends himself. “wait, whatever. i’m just saying — there has to be something that’s mine in the living room. there’s no way that i was leeching off rocky the entire year and a half we stayed together.”

“you probably have more things in her parents’ home rather than here,” oscar points out, playing a card on the table. “hurry it up. i’m hungry and thirsty.”

she hadn’t expected logan to move out so soon. while she knew that living with logan for the rest of her life isn’t a viable arrangement, she hadn’t expected him to decide to pack up and live with his girlfriend while being together for less than a year.

he had told her about a month ago, at the start of september that he’d be moving in with ylona. not too far away, just an apartment down the road. but it still feels like a part’s of her being torn from her — the same way she felt when oscar had moved out of her parents’ when he landed a reserve driver spot with alpine.

she didn’t expect the 3 of them to live together for the rest of time, but it’s just weird to spend growing up every single day with them for years to end up barely talking sometimes outside of race weekends.

“rocky, what do you think?”

she maintains her blank stare on kidnapper, sleeping under the coffee table with a hum. “think of what?”

“let’s head out for dinner as a quick pick-me-up,” mick grins slightly, “and then we drop by the store to get drinks then we continue packing. when we’re done with that, we drink! how’s that sound?”

she lifts her head with a small grin. “yeah, absolutely.”

the uneasy feeling in her chest never leaves the entire evening. from the moment they’d all spilled out of the apartment to grab dinner, asking each other where they should eat to the moment they were stumbling back in to pack what’s left of logan’s clothes.

she sits in the living room now in silence, playing with kidnapper with one of the toys she’d gotten him in a dim corner. everyone else is in logan’s room, helping fold and pack what mick hadn’t gotten in boxes earlier.

“hey, are you okay? you’ve been here since we came home from dinner.” she glances over her shoulder, a small grin spreading her lips at the man now taking a seat next to her on the ground by the cat tree. “i’m surprised you haven’t started crying yet. remember when i moved out of your parents’?”

she throws her head back with a soft groan and an eye roll. “that seems like forever ago.”

“it was,” oscar laughs, leaning back against the wall as kidnapper curiously climbs on his lap. “how do you feel now that you’ll be living alone?”

“not sure,” she shrugs, dropping her head with a soft chuckle. “i like living with logan, you know? everyday was a party.”

“living by yourself can still be party, you know,” he points out and rests his head on the wall behind him. “you knew we weren’t going to be around forever.”

she presses her lips together as she tries to navigate the lines in her head and pinpoint why she’s always so upset when either of them move out. perhaps she feels left behind once more?

sure, that lingering feeling of jealousy arose occasionally when they were younger, always progressing with their racing careers without her at times. but there’s no reason to feel this way at 21 when they’re all at the same stages of life.

“i mean… before logan asked if he could move in with me, i was prepared to be live by myself. but you know,” she trails off as she lifts her head with trembling lips. “that was a year and a half ago.”

“aw, mate,” oscar coos, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on her knee. “i know he sprung this on you a little too soon. but you’ll be fine, you know?”

“i know,” she grins, craning her neck back to sigh at oscar. “i’m going to let him take stubby with him. i know the bond they’ve formed, you know? i’m going to miss that dog.”

“you know you don’t have to. you adopted stubby.”

“just seems cruel to keep stubby when he very clearly prefers logan over me.” she takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. “we should help them out so we can drink with them, right?”

oscar glances down at the black cat that’s settled in his lap. “i can’t get up — kidnapper’s on my lap. it’s your turn now.”

she rolls her eyes but still slowly gets up from her spot. “i will be back for my cat, oscar piastri.”

“i know it was sudden when i told you i was planning to move out,” logan mutters, lifting his head to look at the girl in the single seater couch across the room. “i’m sorry.”

the girl looks up from her phone, her screen illuminating her face with a small grin and flushed cheeks from the drinks they’d consumed. the empty glass bottles riddle the floor of their — no, her — living room. “we can’t be roommates forever. it’s okay.”

around them are liam and mick, passed out in their individual spots with pillows and blankets strewn over their bodies. oscar and lily are coddled up in her bed and logan’s got ylona’s head in his lap as she lies on the couch with stubby in her arms.

“i’m sorry i didn’t even ask you what you thought about it at first,” he admits. “you let me move into your apartment then i just spring my decision to move out 3 weeks ahead of time. i’m sorry, rocky.”

“it’s okay, really. like–”

“dude.” the firmness in her voice makes her drop her phone into her stomach. she sits upright with a small grin on her face and a heavy sigh. “i’m sorry. 2024 hasn’t been great for our friendship.”

she laughs softly, dropping her back against her seat. “are you talking about the crash? that was months ago, mate. i totally overreacted. so much for ‘whatever happens on the track, stays on the track’. i’m sorry.”

but meeting his eyes across the room, her smile fades when she notices that he’s not smiling or giggling along with her. “you know what i’m apologising for.”

tears flood her eyes and she forces herself to look away to wipe them away. “mate. it’s been 9 months.”

“stop brushing it off,” logan whispers, shaking his head. “i’m sorry, okay? you’re still my best friend — you know that, right? nothing’s changing. i’m just 2 blocks down the road; call me if you need me.”

she smiles, hanging her head as she turns to look at him. “likewise. take stubby with you, by the way. he seems to be very fond of you and ylona, anyway.”

“what? no, that’s crazy. stubby is your dog.”

she shakes her head and holds a hand up to stop him from talking. and she knows that he knows what that means — there’s nothing he can say to change her mind. “take him. he’ll be happier with you guys.”

logan’s stare lingers on her, smiling back before she picks up her phone from her stomach. “you should bring ylona to your bed. the couch is uncomfortable, mate.”

logan grins. “okay. do you want to share the bed with her? i know oscar and lily’s fallen asleep in yours. i can sleep out here if you want.”

she shakes her head, following his gaze as he carefully manoeuvres ylona to guide her back to his room. “i’ll be okay. you don’t have to look out for me so much anymore, mate. i’m a big girl.”

“everything’s in the car,” oscar calls out from down the hall, popping his head from the corner that leads to their life lobby. “need a minute?”

“i’ll be down in a second,” logan answers, looking over his shoulder as oscar nods firmly and disappears into the corner. he lets out a shaky breath before he turns back to the small girl standing by the door, handle in her hands as she leans against the door frame. “i’m going to miss living with you.”

she smiles, another tear falling right out of her eye. “i’m going to miss you too. it’s okay that we’re like this, right? we’ve lived together for almost a decade — it’s weird not waking up to your breakfast.”

“don’t skip breakfast, okay?” he presses his lips together. “take care of yourself, dude.”

she laughs her sob out, more tears starting to roll down her cheeks. she sighs, palms over her face as she shies her emotions away. “this is so stupid. i’m literally coming over to help you move in in an hour. i just need to take a shower and feed kidnapper some breakfast.”

logan snorts, throwing his head back, tears slowly leaving his eyes. “10 years is a long time to be living together. we’re still best friends even if we’re not living together. we’ve made it work with oscar, haven’t we?”

“obviously,” she mutters. “i’ll see you later, okay?”

“okay,” logan grins. he leans down, wrapping both arms around her smaller frame and tightens his grip. “i’m sorry again for how things turned out. you’ll always be my best friend, you know that, right?”

she stumbles into him, tiptoeing as she tries to keep her feet on the ground as he squeezes her and lifts her off the ground slightly. “i know. you’ll always be my bestest friend in the entire world, lo. forever wasn’t going to wait for us.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-pie-girl @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

#logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x reader #liam lawson x reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 female driver #formula one x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate

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seamistgale · 8 days

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Bernard was being haunted.

His sus-o-meter isn't up to 100%, but if he's being real, it never is. The downside of being into conspiracy theories was that you were only partially sure which one was more skewed than the other. One day he could be convinced Batman is more cryptid than man, and then he'd stumble on some fascinating witness accounts that make him rethink the Vampire hypothesis.

This time, however, he's fairly sure this sort of freaky shit only happens to people in those cookie-cutter horror movies.

… Except this particular ghost might be of midwestern decent, or something, because they sucked at properly haunting.

Example number one:

It was rare that Bernard had dishes piled up. He lived alone, and occasionally Tim would come to his apartment; with a couple of games, some takeout boxes, and a movie later, there would be way more things to clean up than a whole weekend on his own.

The last time Tim came over, Bernard didn't bother cleaning up for the night, and then the trash just…. Disappeared.

Not like 'a burglar broke in for some weird fetish reason, and my trash is now gone' gone, but more 'the trash is in bags, the dishes are clean, and I swear the air smells fresher' gone.

That was strike one.

He brushed it off because Tim had been there. It was unlikely he just went on a stress cleaning spree at Bernard's place but… Well, Bernard's caught him doing way weirder shit. It's fine.

(it's not fine. You just didn't move things around on someone else's turf.

"…Clean up?" Tim echoed back from the phone, sounding as confused as Bernard felt the following morning. "I-- no, of course not!" and then hurriedly continued to reassure Bernard he'd never do that. Because Tim was nice like that, even after Bernard low-key accused him of giving him the Gotham equivalent of pissing in someone else's yard.

So, that was strike one in the back of his hindbrain that something was up.)

Strike two and three came together.

See, in Gotham's economy, sometimes your employer doesn't have your paycheck the week it should be. Who cares if you need to pay rent through or your landlord will double your rent? Neither your boss nor the landlord in question, obviously. So what he usually did was have a nest egg the size of his rent just in case.

But this month Bernard had splurged a little too much, so he was short. It was nothing big, he was just five bucks short.

The issue was, that his landlord was paranoid and was already breathing down his neck for not paying the next month's rent the day before the new month started. Like clockwork, his landlord put a warning under his door, ready to evict him the same day the month started if Bernard didn't have the rent in cash the next morning.

He knew the eviction notice was at the door, but chose to ignore it because it didn't matter, he'd get those five one way or another by the end of the day.

By the time he came back, two things were out of place. The first was the eviction notice on his table. Again, no one moved someone else's shit around.

Strike three happened while counting his nest egg, and would you look at that! He had more money than he'd counted. Nothing ridiculous, just… He had those five bucks now.

All these little things were easy to miss, or misremember, but Bernard was not most people. But the catch here was… All these things were good things. Sort of.

So not only was this happening when he wasn't around, but they were happening to his… Advantage? He'd even call it good fortune if one was willing to ignore the lack of privacy… And maybe he would have, if this wasn't Gotham. Privacy was a mix between a luxury and a currency. Sometimes a kindness.

In some ways maybe it would have been an effective scare tactic, to mess someone's shit up, but this was not the way he'd personally go about it if he wanted someone to leave the building.

So here Bernard was, staring again at the dishes he had placed as bait, because he wasn't an idiot and tempting a ghost into anything remotely violent was stupid. The dishes were cleaned.

He squinted at the ceiling, then at the rest of his apartment, trying to gauge whether trying to make first contact was going to get him more haunted, killed, or turn him into a Saturday morning cartoon.

Finally, he picked up a cup. Not a glass cup, because why would he give the ghost any ammunition, but a couple of fairly clear plastic cups, a marker, two sticky notes, and filled both cups with tap water decently enough so a mild tremble would be noticeable.

The first sticky note said "Yes", and the second, predictably, said "No."

"So." Bernard sat in front of the cups, feeling halfway like a dumbass for doing this in the first place, and halfway like he's about to do the worst decision of his life because it might just work. "You from out of town, or are you just really shitty at this?"

#dp x dc #dc x dp #Bernard Dowd #danny phantom #meme art #Not pictured here; Danny actually eats Bern's leftovers he usually throws away #he also might or might not have seen Tim being RR. Honest to god Danny thought Bern was just a guy #and HE IS Danny just has terrible luck #Alternatively: picture halfa Jazz trying to take care of the kid bc shes a little guilty shes crashing on his place #why halfa Jazz? idk man just throwing it out there #this started as an alternative to Danny immediatelly clocking on the vigilante's because we need a little variety #it just takes a little longer to get there #also this bernard leans more onto the counterpart with the sunglasses and the 'tude #in my mind Bernard is a sassy asshole that is occasionally :)!! whenever Tim's around #Besties or crush? who knows!#mistwrites

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serendipitous-girl · 4 days

Text

𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: getting a curse that makes you horny is not how you expected your day to turn out....espeically when if means your friends have to help you deal with your situation

⊱✿⊰ warnings: straight up smut, pơrn w plot, aphrodisiacs, this could sort of be considered dub-con but i still believe it is consensual, also this is written by a minor so if u don't want that u can leave, don't report jst block chat, nobara teaching the boys abt girls bodies, simp boys, unprotected sex (be careful irl pls 🙏)

⊱✿⊰ notes: i went from writing slightly suggestive to a freaking foursome but im slay for it okay. i apologize if this sucks i do not know how to write sexual stuff but i had this dream and it was FIRE. Also i have seen like five episodes of this show so try not to give spoilers and i apologize if this is not how curses work 😭 if adults interact imma be weirded out bc these characters r my age 🤨

if you know me (other than skye) don't talk to me abt this unless ur happy im shy enough as it is 💀

you hadn't realized you had even been affected by the curse that hit you earlier until you were on the way to the academy. it was a strange sort of descent to suddenly have your skin feverishly warm and a white hot need coiling deep in your gut. you were practically shaking by the time you reached jujustu high.

you stumbled towards your dorm, ignoring the way any sort of friction against your core made you want to whimper like a cat in heat. your underwear was well on the way of being utterly soaked and your foggy brain couldn't even bother to care.

"you okay, [name]?" yuji asked, his sturdy hand wrapping around your waist when your knees started to buckle. you bit your tongue hard enough to draw small drops of blood to prevent the needy sigh from escaping your lips. he was so strong and he was so sweet, his gentle smile making you wish it was between your thighs.

"i'm fine...just exhausted." you managed to grit out, unable to disguise the thick strain on your voice. maybe you were going insane, because why else would you be feeling this...horny?

"i'd wager you're more than exhausted." megumi piped in, his intense stare sending electricity straight to your core. he walked forward, with nobara not far behind, his mouth in a set line. he continued, "you are being affected by an aphrodisiac inflicted by an incubus."

nobara gave you a sneaky smile coming closer and sliding her arms around your waist and pulling you against your body. you couldn't help the whimper that you released when you felt her warm breath against your cheek.

"you horny, baby?" she purred, making your jaw drop slightly. oh, so she knows. you looked at her shyly, give her a little nod.

"that's what an aphro whatever does?" yuji asked, his chest still firmly pressed into your back. megumi nodded, his eyes darting between how you're sandwiched between nobara and yuji.

"h-how do i make it go away?" you piped up, internally cursing at the tone of your voice. it was thick with need, heavy with lust. maybe you should google how to bury oneself alive? that would be better than this embarrassing situation.

"you need to orgasm, at the very least once. but it will probably require quite a few tries." megumi explained, calmly as if he wasn't talking about his classmate cumming. before you knew it, you were sitting on megumi's bed. nobara and yuji must have led you to his room while he was talking.

"your arms are almost like jelly, honey." nobara noted, picking up your limp arm before letting it drop to your side, "why don't you let us take care of this for you?"

this time megumi, yuji, and you all paused. even through the gnawing desire to be railed you were still surprised at the suggestion. yuji's jaw dropped and megumi blushed, both of their reactions endearing if you were in a better state of mind.

"i have heard far too much about how both of these losers want to fuck you but are too wimpy to do anything. and i wouldn't mind making my girl feel good." nobara sat on the bed beside you and let her hands drift down your thighs. you shivered, parting them almost instinctively.

megumi shot nobara a glare like he was pissed his secret had been revealed and yuji gave you a sheepish smile. both boths came closer until everybody was sitting on the bed.

"you should still be in good conscious to consent." megumi said, his eyes burning into the spot where your legs were spread ever so slightly. your skirt was rising slightly, more of your skin revealed. "do you feel comfortable with this, [name]?"

suddenly you felt all pairs of eyes on you, making arousal seep into your underwear and rendering them positively destroyed. even with your body weak and full of animalistic need, you still had a mostly coherent thought process.

"please, yes please." you stuttered out, looking down at your lap with a shy expression.

nobara grinned deviously at your consent before pulling you onto her lap, pressing your back into her chest. she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck and her hands drifting down your body.

"just relax, we're gonna make you feel real good." she said spreading your legs and lifting up your skirt to show off your underwear. normally you would be embarrassed that megumi and yuji were kneeling in front of you and staring directly at your cloth covered pussy. but you were far too gone to comprehend a single thing.

your underwear was fully soaked, a massive wet spot on them and the smell of your arousal wafting through the air. nobara kept kissing your neck, nibbling at the supple skin as her nimble fingers hooked around the waistband and slipped your underwear off.

your cunt was weeping for attention, puffy folds and twitching clit. your arousal was dripping down your legs, onto megumi's sheets. although he seemed too enthralled with your aching hole to care about the mess you were making.

a sharp gasp escaped your lips when nobara's fingers met your clit, rubbing it gently and in circular motions. as though their eyes had an invisible touch, the intense focus of both megumi and yuji added extra stimulation to your body.

"see this? this is like the key to the treasure chest." nobara said, still steadily rubbing that little bundle of nerves. you wiggled in her lap, trying to stop the embarrassing whimpers from escaping.

"does that feel good, [name]?" yuji asked, his hand suddenly reaching out to grab your thigh and keep you from wriggling out of nobara's hold. his touch was gentle but fuck was he strong.

you nodded and let out a little moan as nobara fingers slipped to your slit, collecting the wetness before teasing your hole. it eagerly tried to suck her digits in, aching to be filled.

"needy, are we?" megumi noted, the goregous rumble of his voice sending vibrations straight to your cunt. it clenched around nothing, showing off your horniness to your entire friend group. dear lord you were about to be fucked by all your friends.

finally nobara sunk her slender fingers in your cunt, the pads of her digits massaging the gummy walls. your toes curled and your back arched, a sigh of pleasure and relief filling the air like a lustful breeze. she grinned against your neck, going back to kissing you as she dipped her fingers in and out.

your pussy shamlessly gushed as she did this, loud enough you were sure the entire world could hear how well you were being fingered. not to mention the pretty little gasps and sighs that slipped between your parted lips.

"fuck," yuji grunted and your eyes fell from staring at the ceiling to him. his hand was cupping his massive bulge through his pants, his brown eyes blown out wide with lust. megumi wasn't fairing much better with a bright red face and parted lips he kept wetting.

"c'mon pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?" nobara purred, her free hand drifting from your waist to slipping under your shirt. she found your tits beneath your shirt and bra, rolling your hardened nipple between two of her digits.

your body suddenly tensed, walls clenching around her slender fingers as they curled right at the spongey point of pleasure. your cunt practically sucked her fingers in as it gushed around them. your jaw slightly dropped as your long wanton moan filled the room like a symphony of your pleasure.

"good girl." nobara praised while megumi and yuji stared at you with wide eyes. with a sudden shyness, you realized you might have been the first girl to have cum in front of them.

even with the orgasm you still felt that burn in your core and slick dripping down your thighs, like the needy whore you were. your mind was fuzzy with lust, pussy aching to be filled yet again.

"megumi, how about you fuck our princess?" nobara suggested, still rolling your senstive nub between her fingers as though to appease you while you waited, "and yuji, fill her mouth so she can't be too loud, yeah?"

the two boys agreed and suddenly you were being placed flat on the bed. your uniform was being stripped off by all three hands, leaving you naked and vulnerable soon.

megumi lifted your legs and spread them a bit more, you whining as the cool air brushed against your leaking cunt. he groaned softly, his raging hard on rubbed against your thigh.

he unzipped his pants enough for his cock to spring out, a pretty pink color with precum leaking out of the reddish tip. then he fixed your position, stroking his dick and rubbing the tip aganist your weeping slit. you whimpered, wriggling your hips like it would make it magically slip inside..

"shit," megumi hissed as he finally sunk his length into your pussy. you whined loudly as he finally filled you up, your back arching in attempts to get him deeper.

suddenly your eyes snapped upwards when you felt yuji's cockhead pressing into your lips. eagerly you parted them, tongue sticking out to lick the precum oozing out. yuji let out a soft sigh as you finally let him in, tongue exploring the large mass inside your mouth.

nobara wasn't feeling excluded at all it seemed, with the way her hands wandered to play with your tits. she smirked, watching the erotic scene unfold in front of her.

you felt almost like a ragdoll, getting fucked on both sides. megumi's thrusts were long and teasing, sliding almost all the way out before slamming all the way in again. whereas yuji was erratic and passionate, carelessly fucking your throat.

it was possibly the hottest and strangest situation you have ever found yourself in.

your moans were muffled by yuji's cock, mixed in with the soft gags of being filled up so entirely. everything felt so lewd, squelching of your cunt being hammered into by megumi and the slurps of you intently sucking yuji off.

nobara wasn't too upset about not getting "her turn" yet especially since she would prefer to have you get her off when it's just the two of you. she was patient...for now.

suddenly yuji stilled, then he kept thrusting into your mouth with jerky movements. "fuck! I'm gonna-"

a white hot liquid squirted into your mouth. It was salty and a little bitter but not terrible tasting. you swallowed up the pink haired boy's cum, some of it dribbling down your chin. once he was done he slowly pulled out, his cock softening slowly. yuji looked at you with wide eyes, almost like you showed him jennifer laurence not sucked him off

you squeaked suddenly, returning your attention to megumi who pinched your clit. he pouted at you, as though a little annoyed yuji had held your attention for so long.

you gave him a breathless smile in-between the sighs of pleasure at his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. you didn't even know something could be that deep inside of you and yet here he was, turning your tummy inside out with his dick.

"i want you to cum at the same time as me. can you do that for me, princess?" megumi said, speeding up his sensual pace. his hips snapped up to meet yours quicker now, his nimble fingers rolling and rubbing your sensitive nub in all the ways that made you certain you would explode.

with a final flick to your clit, you moaned his name and your walls squeezed around his cock. as thought triggered by your orgasm you felt his warm seed spurting inside your core, filling you up. he fucked you both through your highs, keeping his creamy cum inside your pussy.

a small whine fell from your sore throat at the empty feeling where megumi's dick used to be. however you felt that almost agonizing burn started to fade, satisfied by what you had been giving.

"aw baby." nobara cooed, gently petting the top of your unruly hair, "let us clean you up. you must be so tired from all that, yeah?"

you nodded slowly, allowing the boys to distangle from your body and allow nobara instruct them on how to clean you properly. you only started to drift off when you felt the trio cuddle around you, with nobara laying on your tummy, megumi spooning you from behind and yuji in the front. the warmth of your friends (with benefits?) coaxed your exhausted body to sleep.

hopefully you wouldn't have to ever think about the consequences of this....or at least until morning.

#❀ lori writes #❀ lori smut #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #yuji itadori x reader #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #jjk nobara #nobara kugisaki #jujutsu kaisen nobara

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r0se1111 · 21 days

Note

Let's get more fluuuuff (before I start dropping angst prompts bc I like to suffer so that fluff feels even sweeter)

Okay, so, imagine: Ford and his s/o are on another research-date kinda thing, having fun and all, BUT all of a sudden they stumble upon some weird shi that seriously injured one of them!

Who is hurt? Who takes care of the other? How do they do it? It is up to you (*´꒳`)人

(bonus points for two versions and Ford carrying his s/o home bridal style👀)

Your head feels a little funny as it lolls against a hard surface. Furrowing your brow, you lift one shaky finger and press. You're met with a rapid pulse and an emanating warmth. This press of a finger turns into your whole palm attempting to soak up the heat. Almost without consent of your own mind your body curls into the source. Suddenly, you are being jostled and moved away from your personal little heartbeat. A hiccupped whine escapes your throat in protest, but this attempt of communication only causes a sharp pain in your abdomen. Looking down, you see another hand already lifting your sweater to find the source of this discomfort. Huh. Six fingers. That reminds you of...

The hands are now feeling along the clammy skin of your cheeks, the flesh there being pulled uncomfortably as they jostle. This time a disgruntled groan is your preferred method of communication. Something intelligible must have gotten across, you decide, because the warmth is back, and when you look up and see a pair of bespeckled eyes squinting worriedly at you. You gasp as stars fill your stomach because you recognize those eyes.

"-feeling okay? Dear, can you hear me?" Ford asks. His words seem to come out a slower than his lips move, and this is very interesting and amusing to you, so you reach forward with curious hands to touch those lips in investigation. This was decidedly not a good idea, as Ford's creased brow only deepens. He gently brings your hand down and moves his attention back to your stomach. Feeling jealous of all the attention your aching abdomen is getting, you turn your gaze down to glare at it.

Your gasp brings Ford's attention back to your face, but you don't even have the chance to bask in the warmth of his gaze as you stare at the wound on your stomach. It's so dark the blood looks more purple than red, and little spider-veins spread from the source up your veins. You can feel your own heartbeat pushing your blood throughout your circulatory system. Steadying your tongue, you carefully croak out "...Ford?"

"Hello darling. It seems that you've been stung by that manticore we were tracking and are feeling the effects of the poison entering your blood stream. But don't fear! I have just the thing." His optimistic words seemed strange coming out of such a sick looking face. He was pale, his dark hair was mussed, and a twitching frown had taken up residence on his oh so interesting lips. He's scared, you realized.

Another very flattering "grrrgh..." escaped you when you felt a sharp prick. Ford drew back from you holding an empty syringe.

"The antidote should only take a moment to take effect. After that we can worry about cleaning you up." He smiled weakly. You reached forward to hold his hand in your own attempt at comfort, the best you could do while the antidote pumped through your body. Ford's smile was softer and more familiar this time, and you saw some color return to his face.

He was right, of course, and after a bit all that was left of your encounter was a much more normal looking wound. Your head was clearer and your tongue less numb and blown up feeling. Ford was wetting a cloth to clean the injury when you spoke up. "Are you ok?"

His head jerked up and he looked at you with a sort of baffled amusement. "Well- well yes I'm ok. I'm not the one who was stung by a manticore. Are you ok?"

"I've had worse."

A choked out chuckle, a beat of silence, then he mumbles, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. This is my fault, I keep dragging you along with me on these things and god it was supposed to be a date, way to show a girl a good time Ford, and now you're hurt and I'm so-"

His ramble was cut short as you reached to pause his hands in their dutiful care of your wound and intertwine his fingers with yours. "Hey."

He looked a little like you'd just sent volts of electricity though him as he responded. "Hello."

"I'm safe now. You made sure I was safe. It's not your fault, and it's ok." Your thumbs traced constellations over his knuckles. "And as far as the date part goes, I'd say this is pretty romantic, right?"

Ford's face went a little blank and then a little confused. "Me injecting you with a powerful anti-venom and then administering medical care to your open wound is romantic?"

A wave of warm fondness nearly sweeps you out to sea. "Well, I mean the whole bandaging up your partner thing is very... intimate. Or at least, I think so."

"Oh!" Ford exclaims, a little too loud for the quiet setting you are in, but you appreciate his enthusiasm nonetheless. "Yes, I suppose it is..." He trails off into a flush and suddenly his hands and eyes are busy with a roll of bandages. You see the little proud twitch of his lips and the pink color to his cheeks and know you've hit your mark.

So, when he finishes bandaging your wound you hit him with a cheeky little "Kiss it better?"

Ford is blushing in earnest now, but he gently leans down to press a little chaste kiss onto your hip, right at the border of where the bandages end, and you swear he's the one sending electricity through you this time as he leans back up to place his palms on your cheeks.

"Are you sure you're ok? That wasn't too much?"

Feeling a bit dizzy with adoration for this man, you lean in to meet his lips with your own. Now you understand why poisoned you had such a fascination with them as they move sweetly against your own. One last little desperate surge forward, then you two part to breathe and look at each other.

You lick your lips and the butterflies in your stomach turn into a swarm as you taste him. "I'm ok, it wasn't too much." You reply firmly.

Ford sighs and relaxes into your hands on his chest. You feel him inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. He nods then leans in and presses his forehead to yours. "You are completely wonderful and a little crazy, you know that?"

"That's why you love me."

An answering huff of laughter blows into your face. He peers up at you, innocent as a puppy. "Stay with me tonight?"

"Always."

#stanford pines x reader #gravity falls stanford #gravity falls #ford pines x reader #ford pines #stanford pines

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unoislazy · 11 months

Text

Masterlist

Oldest to newest

(The only things out of order are the Headcanons which can all be found at the same spot, specifically for BES)

If I did it correctly you should be able to click the underlined places and they’ll send you right to the story!

Special Information

Request Information

Y'all will never believe what I forgot to add

RDR 2

How To Aim

Arthur Morgan x Reader

One Part

Th actual fic that started it all

————————————————————

HTTYD

Question? What Question?

Hiccup x Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Hiccup accidentally lets it slip that his father is expecting him to ask someone a question. Who could that someone be… and what’s the question?

Part 2

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: You and Hiccup go out to figure out where that smokes coming from. You decide to return back to Berk to tell Stoick what you saw. However, Stoick had other plans in mind.

Somethings Off About That Boy

Hiccup x Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Hiccup has always been weird but lately he’s been acting… weirder than usual. What could he be hiding? Maybe you should try to find out on your own. Who knows, maybe he’s just going to the woods to make weird outfits.

Hiccup Haddock Headcanons

Word Count:459

Hiccup x reader headcanons : just general ones, no specific focus.

What Can Never Be

Hiccup Haddock x Reader

One Part

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You and Hiccup fight together during the battle against Drago Bludvist, what could go wrong?

Warning: a bit of angst

Trapped With You

Hiccup x Reader

One Part

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: if you’re prone to second hand embarrassment this one’s gonna be a doozy

A Dragon Trappers Fate

Eret son of Eret x Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: You’re forced to tag along on the quest to find Hiccup after he went off, determined to find Drago. While you there you happen to stumble across a certain dragon trapper. You feel… weird when you look at him. Why?

Part 2

Word Count: 1.7k Words

Summary: you thought you’d only have to see Eret once and never again, that way that weird feeling you got when you looked at him would disappear. Well, turns out you need him again so you an find out where Drago Bludvist is located. No one better to interrogate than a dragon trapper.

Just Talk To Me!

Hiccup x Reader

One Part

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You and Eret have gotten pretty close due to your constant fighting practice. Of course, a certain chief isn’t too happy about it but he has a bit of trouble trying to tell you this.

The Outsider

Hiccup Haddock x Reader

(Shocker I Know)

Part 1

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You wound up on the shores of Berk after something… had happened to you. Thankfully someone had found you and reported your presence to the Chief.

————————————————————

Blue Eye Samurai

Spar With Me

Mizu x Reader

Part one

Word Count: 2.7k

Part Two

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Not much sparring actually happens this time. But you still somehow wind up in an embarrassing position.

Disclaimers: light language, has not been proofread, shorter and way more embarrassing than the last chapter

Part Three

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: after dealing with a situation in town, Mizu helps you calm down a bit.

Disclaimer; a small bit of violence

Healing Takes Time

Injured! Mizu x Reader

One Part

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: you’re just a simple healer minding your business, avoiding a fight that had broken out along your street when suddenly an extremely wounded strange man ends up at your door.

Disclaimers; very soft angst, nothing too bad.

Part Two

Jealousy Looks Good On You

Mizu x Jealous!Reader

One Part

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: You and Mizu have been close friends for quite some time. You truly enjoyed each others company, that was until Taigen showed up.

Disclaimers; light language, has not been proofread, I am currently delirious from packing and moving all day but I had to write this out to feed the starved mizu lovers. A fair amount may not make sense at this point in time. My apologies ❤️

'Til The Caged Bird Sings

Mizu x Mixed! Fem! Reader

Part One

Part Two

Word Count: 3.9k

Content Warning: Contains violence and mentions of SA

Part Three

Cw: A bit bloody, mentions of SA

Headcannons

Mizu Dating Headcanons

Mizu Fluff Headcanons

Jealous Mizu Headcanons

BES Characters and pets

BES College Au

NSFW Mizu Headcanons

Fucking Brat

Mizu X reader

Part One

Disclaimer: light cursing obvious

Heated but no NSFW

Your Touch

Mizu x Reader

One Part

I lied, here's

Part Two

Fem! Reader

a bit heated, but doesn't go all the way

I Am No Coward

Mizu x Fem! Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Art

Mizu Drawings 1

Mizu Drawings 2

Mizu Drawings 3

Mizu Drawings 4

Mizu Drawings 5

Mizu Doodle (w/ Progress picture)

Mizu Drawings 6

Mizu Drawings 7

Mizu Drawings 8

Mizu Drawings 9

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mvltisstuff · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could I please request a 911 fic, please? Reader is Buck and Maddie’s little sister and is dating Eddie. She goes for a hike and falls, maybe just like a broken leg and concussion... but she has to call 911 and is freaking out a little and Maddie does her best to calm her down til the 118 gets there. Then lots of fluff with the guys. Maybe they show up at her apartment the next day to help her out with things and binge some tv with her. Thank you in advance!

sos - e.d

summary: request

eddie diaz x buckley!reader

a/n: tysm for the request, hope you enjoy 💗

y/n thought it was common sense to not disturb the wildlife in the trail. there were signs everywhere, you had to be blind to miss them. blind or stupid, at least. she also knew that the group of teenage girls had ignored the sign, trying to run after the deer and scare them away.

it was her one day off. it wasn’t a huge day to go to the hiking paths, so she went when it wasn’t busy. however, the mob of juveniles came across like they were the only people to exist, shoving anyone and anything out of their way. y/n had fallen victim in their path of destruction. she had been firmly distracted on the panicked deer, being able to outrun their pictures and harassment.

stupidly, her food stumbled on a pit, twisting her ankle as she fell down the rocky hill. she felt the massive rock jab her head, leaving a pitchy ringing in her ears. the fall had turned her leg in ways that it shouldn’t turn. finally, after what felt like minutes of falling, she landed on her back on the dusty floor of the woods. she lay there panting for a few moments, hoping someone would have seen her fall, but there wasn’t anyone but the excited shouting of the girls. she basically had no other choice but to fish her phone out of her pocket. she was so discombobulated and facing pain that she could only manage to type the three numbers.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” the voice of y/n’s older sister came through the phone, making y/n’s heart race in relief.

“maddie! oh, jesus,” she groans. “so, funny story, i just fell on my hike and i bashed my head on a rock, and then my leg did a weird thing and now it hurts like a bitch so i don’t r-“

“y/n?” she could tell the panicked voice of her sister. “wha- ok, first, tell me what trail you’re on.”

“i’m on the northeast trail at brush canyon,” y/n informs, despite the throbbing ache in her skull.

“alright, i’m sending units to you now, but stay on the phone with me?”

“i will. god, those girls were just running like maniacs an-“

“hey, hey, calm down, y/n. you’re going to be fine, just don’t get too riled up, yeah? police and rescue are 3 minutes away from your location now.”

“thank you, maddie,” y/n says into the phone, starting to calm down and grow more tired.

“of course, that’s why i’m here. the police should pull up in a minute, i love you,”

“i love you too, maddie,” maddie hangs up the phone, leaving her to buck and eddie now. they came to check the safety of the trail after hearing about the pits, and the concerns of people tripping and tumbling down the hills. when buck saw his little sister on the ground, his heart stopped.

“y/n?” he shouted, sliding down the hill and next to y/n’s body.

“heyyy, buck,” she says, being given pain medicine by chimney. “oh, i fell by the way.”

“eddie!” he yells, calling for her boyfriend as he walks down to see her too.

“what the hell happened?” he asks, completely alarmed by her state on the ground. “hey, are you ok?”

“splendid. not the best hike, but i’ll just leave a bad review. and someone tell those bitches to stop running after the deer!”

“alright, she’s fine,” buck laughs, getting his sisters personality back as they lift her onto the stretcher. bobby allows buck and eddie to travel with her to the hospital, as her eyes close in the back.

“i’m not sleeping, i’m just resting my eyes.”

“y/n, you probably should sleep,” buck tells her.

“yeah, baby, you hit your head pretty good,” eddie adds. he smiles at y/n’s scrunched eyebrows and shut eyes as she just continues to fall asleep one minutes later.

the doctors had confirmed that she did fracture her patella, and would be limited in movement for a few weeks. she had a light concussion from the impact on her head, but she’d heal perfectly fine. it wasn’t really anything to worry about.

she returned back to her apartment with maddie, helping her carry her things back in with the crutches. “thanks, maddie.”

“don’t thank me, just please be careful now,” she begs. “i don’t want you to push yourself like evan did and get all worked up.”

“i’m fine, maddie, i swear.”

“ok,” she concludes. “i have to go to work, but if you need anything in the world, call me or buck or eddie and i’m sure someone will help you. are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“maddie, get out of my apartment and go to work. i am fine!”

“alright, i love you. i’ll see you soon,” she says, shutting the door behind her as y/n sits on the couch, leaning her new crutches against it. she finally gets settled watching some old random reruns from tlc, getting invested in it when she realizes that she has to eat something with her new medicine. she tries to figure out something, when she hears an abrupt knock on her door. she limps over with her crutches, revealing a grinning buck and eddie by her door with a bag of food.

“we come with food!” buck smiles. “your favorite! cheesecake factory!”

“you guys did not have to do this,” she says, letting them come in and placing a kiss on eddie’s lips.

“well, we wanted you to have anything you need,” eddie tells her.

“i appreciate, i really do.”

“good, so what do you need done?” eddie asks. y/n thinks about what she could get away with, and manages to make them clean her entire kitchen. they did it willingly, so it’s nothing but a win for her.

“perfect! now, come eat with me and watch this show i found,” she beams, crutching over to the couch and placing the bag of food in front of her on the coffee table.

“what are we watching?” buck asks, starting to crack open his takeout box.

“i’m not really sure, some guy making cakes in new jersey,” she presses the volume as the voice of the man comes through the speakers. she sits back with her plate of food, looking at her two favorite boys in the world.

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mythbringer-mayhem · 8 months

Text

GODDAMNIT

man, I was just scrolling and now I'm a goddamn Raidioapple shipper what the FUCK

Ok ok-

And now I'm going to elaborate just because.

I was expecting someone out there to ship Lucifer and Alastor the second I heard Hell's Greatest Dad. I mean- two people singing/arguing over being father figures? Sounds gay to me /pos. The internet sure does love it's enemies to lovers (me included. I'm hopless lmao.)

BUT. I have specifics for this ship.

I hate it when people just look at Alastor's aromanticism/asexuallity and just go "nah. I'm just gonna do it anyways." I used to headcanon Alastor as complete aroace in the sense that he just can't feel that way for someone (this is not meant to sound like "oh he can't love anyone :( he's incapable" I mean specifically a romantic/sexual relationship.) Then fucking short ass king of hell arrives, and Alastor just IMMEDIATELY chooses violence.

I didn't think much of that besides "oh that's a little interesting," and then I stumbled across Radioapple and had to take a double take. My brain needed to figure out how that would work, like how it would start, flourish, ineract, yadda yadda-

.....so now I consider Alastor Demiromantic-

(I'm still goddamn writing jeez-)

Read on if you like random people looking wayyyyyy too much into fictional characters.

Headcanon timeeeeeeeee

When Lucifer and Alastor first meet, Alastor is surprised Lucifer doesn't know who he is. Up to this point, everyone knows about the terrifying radio demon, so it must be a little weird for someone to be completely ignorant to his existence. Especially when that person should probably know the ins and outs of what's going on- ....because he's the fucking king of hell.

This is something new for Alastor. It made him curious. When you're curious, you try to learn more right? So, Alastor starts pushing Lucifer's buttons, seeing how he reacts. On Lucifer's end, Alastor's just being a smug asshole. However his true intentions are information on the esteemed oh-so-powerful king of hell. Maybe Alastor doesn't quite know where this fascination comes from, but regardless he wants to learn more. I can picture him progressively bothering Lucifer more and more (this is his unique way of getting to know him semi-discreetly)

As well as figuring out what ticks him off, Alastor would also probably passively learn things Lucifer likes. For instance, he finds out what Lucifer's favorite alcoholic drink is or something- bare with me- Let’s say Lucifer has a rough day, and it's very clear to everyone in the hotel. While he's frustrated in his own room, he hears a knock at the door. Answering it, he finds his aforementioned favorite drink. At this point, he wouldn't know who left it. But after a while, he'd be able to figure out it's Alastor through process of elimination. (This is inspired by a comic I saw! :))

Now we've got Alastor trying to discreetly be kind to Lucifer, and Lucifer is aware without his knowledge. And Lucifer would call him out for it lmao. Slowly, they'd start acting friendlier towards each other. It would take a long, long time though. The slowest slow burn of them all. They'd hang out more, do things, kick angel ass, have friendly banter, do stuff with Charlie. Untill Alastor finally realizes that he might have a crush on Lucifer. Though, I feel he'd take a while to fully figure that out, do some soul searching, maybe go to Rosie for advice.

Then they'd confess. Or they wouldn't lol. I can totally see them going on what is essentially a date, even though they just consider it "hanging out". It would be a quiet relationship. Something you'd miss if you aren't looking for it, but it is there. They both just need someone they can rest with in my opinion.

These ideas are probably sporadic and nonsensical- but I ✨️don't care✨️ I just needed to rant about the old timey deer man and the short depressed apple gremlin.

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tiredfox64 · 4 months

Note

So like,,,,,

Imagine if Bi-han and readsr went on a mission, oh yeah things r going very well, but then they stumble on a place that has like woah magic potion, the reader just "hey wld it b funny if I dr-" "no", but then Bi-han wasnt looking and somehow they end up with a reader thats just, the size of his palm

The rest is up to u!

Love ur writings!!!

Pipsqueak

Prior notes: This would be something that would happen to me cause I keep trying to eat inedible things. I've been told to stop trying to eat my DND dice.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Gn reader

Warnings: Hehe you're so small

“Don’t touch anything.”

Bi-Han tells you that every time you go on a mission together. If he can’t have his brothers by his side then he usually picks you to come with him on a mission. Though you have a problem with being serious. You have a habit of making things comedic during serious moments like missions and briefings. You also have a weird habit of touching things that aren’t yours and putting them near your mouth. No one knows why you do it, neither do you. You must be lacking vitamins or something.

Whatever it is, it’s a hazard when you’re on missions. That’s why Bi-Han is always warning you about doing something stupid. It’s for your own good. You don’t know what could happen to you if you touched the wrong item or ingested something you shouldn’t have. The world you live in is a strange one, you never know.

So far, you’re acting right. Liu Kang sent you and Bi-Han out on a mission to investigate a possible rat in Earthrealm, aka a sorcerer. He warned you both to be careful which Bi-Han emphasized that point. He was right to do so.

When you both arrived at the suspected location there were walls filled with strange ingredients and hanging animal carcasses. Creepy. There were rows upon rows of colorful looking potions in wacky bottles. There was one potion in particular that caught your eye. It rested on a wooden desk with different ingredients surrounding it. It looked like whoever was brewing it was making more of a cocktail instead of a magical potion. Citrus peels, brown sugar, and finger lime caviar. It confused you so much that you didn’t take notice of the other potions that were being mixed into the strange concoction. You grabbed the potion that caught your eye, sniffing it and getting hit with that strong citrus smell. Its aroma was tempting you.

“Hey Bi-Han, wouldn’t it be funny if I dr-”

“No!” Bi-Han glared at you.

He motioned for you to put it back where you found it. You did as he said until he turned his back towards you. He started going off about how he wanted this mission to be over and he can’t risk any delays. You weren’t paying attention since your attention was on the potion. It just looked so pretty and smells as sweet as lemonade. It couldn’t hurt to take at least a lick of it. You placed your mouth near the bottle before leaning it up, the liquid flowed slowly to your tongue. You licked it up quickly. Hmm, it does taste like lemona-

Bi-Han heard a poof behind him. He swiftly turned around and saw a cloud of smoke that matched the color of the potion. Once the smoke cleared he tried his best to look for you. But when he looked down all he saw was you with the bottle trapping you inside. Ah geez, you’re small.

He stared in disbelief. It was clear what just happened. You didn’t obey your grandmaster.

“What did I tell you!” He yelled which sounded much louder to you since you were so tiny now.

You looked very guilty. Your head was lowered in shame. You looked up at Bi-Han with pleading eyes, begging him to get you out of the bottle. He has no choice, he has to. He picks up the bottle and begins to dump you out onto the palm of his hand.

You’re putting him in a difficult position right now. One wrong move and he could accidentally crush you. Or worse, even freeze you. You didn’t like this outcome. You look like you were on the verge of tears even though you were warned. He groaned as he contemplated what to do now. Should he abandon the mission and bring you back safely? Or should he march forward and try his best to keep you safe? He didn’t realize it but he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear you yelling at him.

“Please, have mercy!”

When he looked down he saw he was gripping you tightly. His thumb was rubbing the top of your head which messed with your hair. He opened his hands, allowing you to breathe. This situation was already sucking. This can’t go on; he has to bring you back. Maybe Lord Liu Kang can reverse this mess.

Bi-Han didn’t want to keep you in his hands just in case he needed to fight. The problem is he has nowhere else to put you. Each possible area he could put you in would possibly squeeze you. The only spot he could think of was…sigh. He raised you up before placing you at the top of his head.

“Just hold on tightly please.”

You listened this time. Too well actually. Your impulsive thoughts won and you ended up yanking a strand of his hair on the left side of his hair. You had your Ratatouille moment. He actually raised his arm just like the movie taught you! But he might have been doing it just to smack you for yanking.

“NOT THAT TIGHT!”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Getting a hold of Liu Kang was difficult. No one knew where he was or what he was doing. Not a good time for him to be MIA.

Believe it or not, Bi-Han was getting very worried about this situation. Having you as small as a rat made him worried about losing you. He was keeping you close to him at all times, not even allowing Tomas or Kuai Liang to poke you. In his eyes, you were as fragile as a glass animal now.

He kept you with him until someone could get a hold of Liu Kang. He kept you on his desk to keep a close eye on you. It felt like you were being treated like a child. Every time you moved close to the edge; Bi-Han would tense up before blocking you with his hands. He would drag you back by pinching the back of your uniform.

“Stay still. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He asked.

Then he tried keeping you in a birdcage he so conveniently had. You wouldn’t stop moving! You were put in little creature jail for little creature crimes. Yup, you still wouldn’t listen. You would try climbing the sides before trying to squeeze yourself through. You thought you succeeded until your hips hit the bars. Bi-Han was about to lose it on you but if he yelled he might burst your eardrums. He tried pushing you back in but every time he would poke your face you would bite him because it was uncomfortable. He did not want to try your backside. He eventually had to break the cage a little to allow you to crawl out.

That didn’t work out in his favor, what else he got?

He placed you right in front of him with his arms surrounding you. It allowed him to continue doing his paperwork while keeping you in one place. If you tried to run past his hands he would smack you back. Try climbing up his arms and he would twitch his muscles to make you fall. Like a horse trying to get a fly off. Front is no good, sides are no good, you went with the back. You started climbing up his clothes. This was the last straw for Bi-Han. You were like a devious rat that couldn’t listen to its master.

He snatched you up before shoving you into his top. The multiple layers of his uniform were usually tight against his body but there was enough space to shove you into it. Your back was pressed up against his chest area which felt like a brick wall. You tried to scramble out of there but the clothes were pressing you tight like a weighted blanket. You were tucked in nicely against your will. You struggled and struggled until you tired yourself out. You don’t have much fight left in you which was fine by Bi-Han. It was a long day already and that little fight you put up drained you out. You started to succumb to the comfort that enveloped you. It was no use, you were falling asleep.

After a while, Bi-Han noticed you weren’t saying a peep. When he looked down he saw you were knocked out. It was night and still no Liu Kang. Hopefully he will have better luck tomorrow. He should find a better place for you to sleep where you will be safe. He took you out and placed you on your stomach in the palm of his hand. He petted your back with one finger to prevent you from waking up. He kind of likes you this way. So punny and pathetic, it’s so adorable. You would have no choice but to depend on him for everything. Ah, he shouldn’t be thinking that way. He should focus on you getting back to normal. Still can’t help that he finds this situation a bit entertaining. Maybe he’ll drag this out a little longer just to see what else he could do with you.

After notes: All I could think of was Marc Anthony and Pussyfoot when writing this. That was the energy I was getting. I just saw a drawing that was like this idea which included Bi-Han. Strange. Adiós!

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 1 year

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Hello there. I've seen your blog for a while but I'm finally requesting. What about a male yuu who has the personality of someone who looked into the eyes of God and fist fought him? A yuu who will kick someone's ass for breathing the same air as him. Azul and Leona don't stand a chance.

Fighty yuu to Idia and Malleus- Oh dear. Oh dear, gorgeous

Fighty yuu to everyone else- You fuckin donkey. *beats them with a chair*

Fighty Yuu

Oh yeah I also made Yuu stupid strong for the memes. I did the first 3 dorms cause I ran outta ideas. He him pronouns used

Ever since you first arrived at NRC, you have given zero fucks. After all, having constant visions about coming to NRC combined with the fact that you were woken up in a mysterious world after being kidnapped had already got you on edge. What really set you off, however, was the fact that nearly everyone around you was an asshole.

No seriously, you can't even have a good relationship with someone at this school without people thinking you're weird. On top of that, there's one dorm dedicated to being "alpha males". It doesn't help that everyone's mentality here is kill or be killed and the strong should rule the weak.

It only makes sense for you to try and blend in, right?

You truly tried to pick your battles sparingly. Truly. After all, fighting everyone would be a waste of time and energy, and yet on the very first day here, you had already gotten into your first big fight.

Forced to go to some dumb cave all because a trio of dumbasses already soured your mood. On top of this, there was now some sort of monster in the mines you were now in that wants to kill you, and unlike those three idiots Deuce, Ace, and Grim, you will have nowhere to go if you get kicked outta NRC.

This is how your main friendship trio soon learned about your fighting skills and knew even better not to mess with you. They even tried joking about it with their other dorm members who just brushed it off as an exaggeration… oh how wrong they were

Heartstabyul

It took everything in you to not jump Riddle the second he started insulting you. He wasn't worth it. Not in the slightest, so when given the opportunity to finally get back at him, who were you not to take it?

"Everyone evacuate the dorm right now!" Trey yelled out, guiding dorm members out of the front with Crowley as everyone ran from cover. "What's happening?!" Grim shrieks as Riddle's visible veins start to become black, a shadowy figure looming behind him as he changes shape.

"Overblot! It's an overblot!" Cater yelps, pulling Ace and Deuce by their sleeves to guide them out. "How do we stop it?" Deuce asks as he fights against Cater's tug. "You aren't seriously thinking of fighting it are you?" Crowley practically demands. "No, I'm with Deuce, we have to save him!" Trey pleaded with the Headmage as Ace butted in. "Yeah! I'm not letting him off the hook that easy!" Cater stared at his dorm mates, closing his eyes before sighing loudly. "Oh fine! I'll guess help, cay cay?"

"Wait…" you paused, thinking for a moment. "If we knock him out we can save him," you asked, glancing over at Crowley as the wind swirls and blows harder. "Well yes essentially—" The headmage didn't get to finish his sentence.

"Yuu what the hell are you doing?!" Ace squawks as you immediately charge Riddle. You practically pummel into the dorm leader, making him stumble back before swinging, getting a few quick jabs on him. You didn't even register the insults he spewed at you as he began summoning spell after spell to fire at you, which you dodged by sliding and flipping over.

The group behind you immediately acts as support while trying to get you to calm down. The battle was over quickly, much more quickly if you decided to try Trey's plan. Once the blot left Riddle's body, Trey immediately got to his side to start healing up every single bruise on his body…

"Who has the shitty upbringing now?" "Really Yuu? Right now?" Grim glared at you. "I'm just saying!"

***

Not many dorm members were there to witness your aggression, everyone sort of just thought of it as a joke. You're magicless, right? There's no way you did that much! Yet little did they know you were just getting started.

The Unbirthday Party afterward was a pretty good success, and you did apologize to Riddle for going a little overboard. (The group with you now knows to never cross you) and was an overall pleasant experience… up until someone invites you to play croquet against them…

There were many casualties that day.

Savannaclaw

"Sorry, you can't play with us Yuu, you don't have magic shishishishi!" Ruggie cackled as you sat down on the bench. "Beat their asses for me you four" You nodded your head over at Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Jack who were now fighting for your honor, investigation be damned.

Watching the boys was depressing. The four were completely uncoordinated. Running into each other and fumbling the disk. Idiots. It was their own faults they were so competitive. Through all the running and the spells, you overheard some snide remarks from the other team. Them insulting you is disrespectful. Them dissing your boys is a violation.

Ruggie flicks the disk over to Leona, who is poised ready to catch it. Merely inches away from his casting range, you snag the disk. Almost amused, Leona smirks. "You realize you're only allowed to use magic to make the disk float, Scavenger." The smugness in his voice was beyond irritating.

To prove a point, you slammed the disk through the air, sending the disk flying across the field and into the scoring ground, creating a small crater. "I don't need magic." You sneer at the lion whose eyes were wide before he narrowed them. "Come on guys, we're wasting our time."

Walking off with your squad, you don't miss how all the all Savanaclaw students you played against, especially Ruggie, gawk as you guide your homies off. The whole way, Jack asking how the hell you did that.

"Oh hes just like that Jack, shoulda seen what he did to Riddle!" Grim beams as Jack makes a mental note not to cross you.

****

The overblot incident with Leona was solved within minutes. Leona got got.

Octavinelle

You would think that Floyd, who is surrounded by two of the most informed people on campus, would know not to mess with Yuu. Chances are, however, that even if he did know, he would have actively sought Yuu out to mess with him anyways.

Floyd smirked down at your usual trio. "Crabby… Mackerel… and Baby Seal, ehe..!" The eel chuckles, satisfied with the name he has created for your group. "And then you…" Floyd turns to you, standing there with your cafeteria tray. The eel interrupted you before you were even able to sit down.

You keep your blank and tired expression as the eel approaches you in an attempt to intimidate. "You're a weird one, huh, little prefect?" You take a step back from him, trying to create a comfortable distance between the two of you. "Floyd, don't be rude to the Ramshackle Prefect now, that's unprofessional." His brother Jade gives his usual sadistic smirk as he places his hand on his chest politely, standing next to his brother.

"Aww but Jade! I'm just trying to give 'em a name… mmm…" You took another step back. "Hehe, the way your backing up reminds me of a lil shrimp!" Floyd laughs to himself. "I think I'm gonna call you Little Shrimpy hehe!"

"Um… OK... can I go eat now dudes? I have class after this…" A mischievous glint appeared in Floyd's eyes as his grin started to show his sharp rows of teeth. "Aww little Shrimpy is trying to be tough! How cute~"

"Don't call me that." "Oya? What's that?" Jade asked, his eyes narrowing at you as he smirks. "I said stop calling me that." Jade glances over at Floyd who absolutely beams. "Oh yeah, whatcha gonna do about little shrimpy?" You gripped your cafeteria tray tighter.

The twins looked at each other, chuckling, thinking you wouldn't do anything. Floyd leans in, voice dropping lower. "Well?" And like that, you slammed your tray into the side of Floyd's head.

The entire cafeteria turned to watch as you grab onto Floyd's hair and hit his head on the cafeteria tables and dragging him across the whole thing sending food trays flying in the air. The second Floyd got back his bearing he immediately started to kick and swing. You admit he did hit you pretty good a few times.

Your grip on his hair tightened as you continued to swing at him. The people in the cafeteria cheered at the sight, many chanting fight over and over. Every time Jade tried to step in both you and Floyd pushed him away.

It took a good amount of staff and your friends to separate the two of you. Even Azul had to hold back Floyd as he snarled fiercely, thrashing in an attempt to get at you. You ended up pulling out some of his hair as you both were forced away, he nearly lost his entire black locks of hair.

The Octavinelle trio will have to keep your personality in mind when it comes to future negotiations… Azul must make sure that his right-hand men stay by him when it comes to it…

Also congratulations! You unlocked a sparring partner!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #grim x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #wendellicious

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