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farfromstrange · 1 month

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“What if the way you hold me is actually what’s holy?” | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! (18+), shower setting, oral f!receiving, masturbation, fantasizing, beard appreciation (kink?), dirty talk, mentioned unprotected p in v, slight Dom!Matt, DDBA!Matt, improper thoughts about a certain crucifix necklace, (kind of) religious symbolism, mentions of choking, praise kink, pet names, “good girl”, not perfectly edited (shocker)

Summary: Fantasies about your late-working boyfriend take over your much needed self-care shower—until he’s suddenly (and unexpectedly) right in front of you when you are about to take care of the problem yourself.

A/n: So, the Born Again trailer brought me back from the dead and made me so fucking needy for this man. I thought this would be the best opportunity to rewatch Daredevil and practice writing Matt again because I’ve been a bit out of practice lately. Let’s just say the experiment was successful, but I definitely owe it to my hormone levels. The gif below inspired this fic (as it probably has done to many writers in the fandom these past two days). Anyway. If you want to listen to the song I was listening to while writing, it’s “Guilty As Sin?” By Taylor Swift, hence the title. Other than they, enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!

Read Me On AO3!

The warm water from the shower head above runs down your clammy skin, seeping into your pores and aching muscles. You have been dreaming about this ever since you got home from work.

The apartment is quiet, save for the little noise you make in the bathroom. Matt called you earlier, telling you he would be late and that you shouldn’t wait up for him; you expected as much after he and Foggy caught a high-profile case a couple of weeks ago.

When he isn’t busy at work, he tries to fulfill his duty to protect the city. You’re not mad; you knew what you were signing up for when you fell in love with him, but that doesn’t change the fact that you miss him sometimes. Or rather, all the time. It doesn’t matter if he’s at work or wandering around in red leather, searching for a fight—you always miss him.

There’s not a day that goes by that you’re not worried he might not come back to you. You can only hold on to the thought of him coming home in the middle of the night, crawling into bed beside you because he’s too tired to shower, wrapping his arms around you as though you are the only thing anchoring him to reality. It makes you appreciate what you have in him.

The thing about Matt is that he feels he has to do penance for every little thing he has ever done, whether his actions hurt people or not; he loathes himself for who he is, which is absurd to you but to him, it makes sense. Perhaps it’s the catholic in him, or all those years of losing soulmates, or maybe it’s both.

His shampoo smells faintly of sandalwood and the rainforest, but only if you focus closely. You like that it makes your skin soft, and when you wrap yourself in his silk sheets at night, it’s almost like he’s all over you before he physically can be.

You close your eyes and you focus on the feel of him, imagining your hands are his. You imagine his calloused fingers trailing over your heated skin, exploring every dip and every curve, even though he already knows the wonderland of your body inside and out. His lips on yours, traveling down your neck to your shoulder to your chest… a shiver runs down your spine, pooling in your core. You’re on fire, and he isn’t even with you.

He’s at the office, sleeves probably rolled up, the first two buttons of his dress shirt undone, loosening his tie with that strained look he gets when he’s stressed. Or maybe he’s on his way to Fogwell’s Gym so he won’t disturb you before he puts the suit on, fists raining down on a sandbag as sweat drips down his body, and he grunts whenever he lands a hit.

You were just trying to have a nice shower, but Matt always manages to invade your every thought like a burglar on a mission.

It’s just not fair how he always looks so sinful when he’s at his wit’s end. Oh, you love that look he gets when he’s feral. And you suddenly remember how long it has been since you got to touch each other. Since he let the devil out on you. Since he came home in the middle of the night and fucked you into the mattress because he was still so full of adrenaline.

It has been so long since you two got to have a nice dinner together and you last rode him on his leather couch until you were both sticking to it, not even thinking about stopping; since he devoured you for hours and hours and hours until you were almost severely dehydrated and overstimulated from the orgasms he tore from you.

You bite your lip so you won’t moan into the void of the bathroom. If you touch yourself now, he will know when he comes home. For a moment, you consider it. You slide your hand from your chest down your stomach. The water is slowly starting to grow cold. You just need to take the edge off. Lower, lower, and lower, and—

“Don’t,” Matt’s voice reverberates in your ear. His hand slides over yours, calloused fingers on the back of your hand.

The veil of fantasy burns to the ground. Your heart stops, then picks up the pace at a million miles an hour. In an instant, you turn around to face him, a gasp dying on your lips.

He’s right there, clothes discarded on the floor before the shower, no doubt. The golden crucifix around his neck offers a sinful contrast to his milky skin. You have always wondered if he was made out of marble rather than skin and bone. How can one person be this beautiful—this close to perfection and still be human?

Matt is close enough for you to feel his heartbeat against your own. His hands slide to your forearms to make sure you don’t slip. You can see your wrecked reflection in his hazel irises.

His unfocused gaze is right on you, boring through your skull into your soul. Only he can read you like an open book, listen to your body, and know exactly what you want, what you crave. He thinks of himself as the devil, but all you see is an angel. He’s the sun. To you, at least, he’s everything. The moon, the sun, the stars, and the entire fucking universe.

He caught you when you were about to touch yourself, and he’s naked. Really fucking naked. This is not how you imagined tonight to go.

His chest heaves with a deep inhale of your scent, forehead coming to rest against yours.

“You’re home,” you whisper.

His lips curl into a smile—not a smirk but a genuine smile. “Yeah.”

“But you said you guys had that case, and then you were gonna go out…”

Matt cuts you off, “I missed you,” he says. “Couldn’t go out without seeing you.”

He chose you over the city. You never doubted Daredevil meant more to him than you, but hearing it out loud almost brings tears to your eyes.

“I missed you too,” you answer. So much. Days, weeks, seconds, all the fucking time.

He’s so smug about it, too, when he tells you, “I know.”

The water keeps falling around you, drowning out the noise of the city and pearling off his necklace. He should have taken it off. If he wanted to shower with you, he should have taken it off because the need for him that makes your cunt pulse in desperation feeds off of the mere thought of taking the cold metal into your mouth while he pounds into you like a madman.

He doesn’t look agitated, not at all, but there is a dark shadow falling over Matt’s bearded face. It’s a calculated shadow rooted in a need for control, and who are you to deny him the only thing he can control?

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, “Tell me. What were you doing in there, hm?”

You bite your lip. “Just… showering.”

“Just showering?” He brushes his nose against yours. “You know I can hear your heartbeat…”

You nod. Your lips brush, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet. You can taste the remnants of his last coffee, the familiar warmth of his mouth on yours, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction. You crave him so much that fireworks have started erupting on your skin wherever his fingers dare to travel; it isn’t fair. He isn’t fair.

Matt studied the science of driving you crazy, and now you are bordering on the edge of madness. Alone.

“Mhm. So, I know you’re lying…” He moves to your cheek, his breath hot when he speaks, “And I know when you’re touching yourself. ‘Cause I can smell how fucking wet you are, sweetheart.”

There he is. The relentless, feral animal you fantasized about before. The man driven by primal need and the sheer power of his senses rather than rational thought, and yet he knows exactly what he is doing. He’s a musician playing you like a delicate violin, pushing her to the breaking point but never fully destroying.

“Like I said,” you breathe, “I missed you.”

He presses his lips to your cheek, almost like a reward. “I know,” he says. “Probably been thinking about me, too, with your hand on your pussy…”

You swallow a needy moan that would have been too embarrassing. It’s been a long few weeks. Neither of you will be able to resist for long, you know that, so you decide you have to be bold tonight. “And what’re you gonna do about it?” you ask.

Though stunned for a moment, the smirk on Matt’s face isn’t far out of reach. “That’s my girl.”

Your back hits the now warm tiles of the shower wall before you can string together another remark, and then, finally—fucking finally—his lips are on yours. Kissing you. Devouring you. Breathing air into your aching lungs. He tastes like paradise, the Garden of Eden, and the six circles of hell all at once. It’s all the same to you, anyway.

As long as you’re with him, you don’t care where you end up. No amount of torture could take away the love you feel for him, and you know that with Matt, even weathering the stormy seas of hell would be worthwhile. It’s sick and twisted how far you would go for this man, but you can’t find a single bone in your body that cares.

His tongue forces its way into your mouth, tasting you, and inhaling you like his sole source of life support. You don’t bother fighting for dominance; you’re all his. Your body is telling him to command you. Your mind is screaming for him to touch you in any way he pleases, so help him God, and the chain around his neck keeps sinfully dangling against his toned chest. You want to bite it. You’re going to bite it. But not yet.

When it is time for you to swim to the surface for air, he pulls away. His lips move from yours to the corner of your mouth. He kisses there, taking his time to explore what he has explored many times before. But Matt Murdock is an addict, and you are his drug of choice, so why would he ever stop?

He kisses your cheek, your eyes, and the bridge of your nose. That’s how he sees you. Either with his fingers or his mouth or both. Touching you. Listening to you. He wants to see you in his own way. In a way that is far more intimate than you admiring his objective beauty could ever be.

“So beautiful,” he whispers between kisses. When he says it, you know it has to be true, even when you don’t see yourself in the same light as him.

His beard is rough where he kisses you. He has grown it out quite a bit, not having the time to bother shaving. The specks of gray that have started appearing as he got older should be illegal, you think, staring at him through hazy eyes. It should be illegal to look this good.

You caress his face, palm covering the entirety of his cheek. So beautiful, you want to say, but you don’t have the words.

The confession of love tumbles against your skin, softly, breathlessly, and he dips his head into the crook of your neck. He seeks your pulse point to press his lips against the beat of your heart. Your head falls back against the tiles. He’s a fucking menace, but he’s gentle about it. So, so gentle.

The hands-on your hips pull you closer, as close as you can get. Your nipples brush his chest, and you can feel him growing hard against you. He’s hot, red, and flushed, and with his lips against your neck, sucking and biting and licking some more, the shower water isn’t the only thing running down your thighs. You’ve been wet just thinking about him; Matt is here now, and he has no intention of stopping until you’re screaming his name.

Your skin is raw from the way he’s moving his face against you, suctioning his lips right where he can feel your pulse reaching for him. Reacting to him.

“Matthew,” you moan, breathless. “Please.”

He hums, fingers digging into your flesh to keep his composure. The sound of his name from your lips in such ecstasy makes his cock swell to the point all he wants is to sink into you and fuck you against the wet shower wall until you can’t walk anymore. He wants to wrap his hand around your throat, just holding you there as you take it like the good girl you are. God, he wants to do so many things to you.

He wants to push all of your buttons and reward you for it. He wants to feel your nails running down his back until he’s bleeding. He wants to eat your pussy until you forget your name, and when he’s done with that, he wants to do even more because that is the kind of animal you turn him into. That is what you do to him. You consume him with your mere existence and your love you keep pouring into him like a glass about to overflow, a glass so full yet so fucking empty at the same time, and he has been neglecting you for far too long to hold back now—yes, the water bill be damned!

“I love it when you beg,” he growls, feeling his voice vibrate through your skin. Like he’s in your veins.

You whimper. Oh, that sound. That sweet, sweet sound. It seems to do him in. Matt sinks to his knees like he would in front of God in church—like Mary knelt in front of Jesus after he got crucified. But there are no stained windows, no crosses, and no confessional booth in sight; you’re his place of worship, and your body is the altar. You are the only constant in his world on fire. You always want him to set you on fire, too.

Once on his knees in front of you, his cock straining high and mighty against his stomach, he grabs your thigh and places it over his shoulder. No rush. You can barely catch your breath.

Burning along the inside of your thigh, Matt kisses his way toward where you need him most. Your core yearns for him. Your hand slips from his face, searching the tiles behind you for something to hold onto.

He’s quick to bring your hands back to his hair. “Don’t let go,” he says.

It’s almost embarrassing that the only sound you can make is a grunt, and when your brain finally catches up, it’s too late. He’s impatient. Desperate. And he places his lips in a gentle kiss against your clit. The sudden contact makes you jolt, but that is not nearly all of it.

He tests the waters. Once, twice, even a third time, gently kissing along your slick folds. You instinctively tug at his hair, but that doesn’t deter him. Matt inhales your scent, tasting your essence on his tongue; he would bathe in it if he could.

You cry out when he dives in. He parts your folds with his tongue, sucking and licking until his face is covered. The obscene noise of lips smacking against wet skin goes straight to your head. He can hear the wetness gushing out of you, every twitch of your muscles and hitch of your breath, and he sucks a little harder on your sensitive clit. You’re scared you might fall.

“Fuck!” Your moans are as obscene as the sound of him eating you out. You grind against him, at first involuntarily, but then he moans against you, and you can’t help it; the vibrations he sends through you continue to pool in your cunt, tightening the coil that is waiting to snap.

Matt prods your entrance with his tongue, the tip of his nose digging just right into that sensitive bundle of nerves he lost when your hips first jerked. He’s completely out of it, hooded eyes rolled back into his skull while you are almost splitting yours open on the dark tiles. The cross necklace is sticky with his saliva as he drinks from you like you are the spring fueling his ocean. He’s thrusting into his hand, pre-cum leaking from his cock, but his mouth never wavers. He has a job to do.

Your walls clench around what little of his tongue is inside of you. There is nothing more arousing than the sight of him touching himself because the taste of you is bringing him to the brink of an inevitable orgasm. Because he wants to come with you. Because he’s desperate and he can only imagine being inside of you as he licks away at you. It’s a kind of dedication that makes you feral. No one has ever loved you quite like he has, and no one will ever eat your pussy as only he can.

“Matt,” you choke out. “Fuck, I’m gonna—’m gonna come. Don’t stop. Don’t…”

As if he could. He flicks his tongue from left to right, painting shapes you have never felt before over every last of your nerve endings. You’re quivering. You’re shaking. You are turning the bathroom into a concert hall for the symphony of your pleasure.

He doesn’t stop to tell you to come, that would be futile. You couldn’t possibly stop the wave headed for your shore. You can’t warn him. You can’t do anything other than let it happen. The coil snaps and your orgasm crashes into you at full force, shattering you into a million pieces. You grind against him until you’re sure he is branded into your skin forever.

Matt holds you through it, working his tongue against you to prolong the electricity running through your veins. He gets lost in the echo of his name, stroking his cock harder and faster, and within seconds of you, he’s coming, too. He spurts into his hand and on your thigh, moaning deliciously into your pussy. For a moment, he’s stiff, though as you are starting to come back to him, he’s starting to come back to you.

The aftermath of your orgasm is quiet. His lips slip from your swollen folds eventually, and he pulls away to rest his cheek against your inner thigh, the one resting over his shoulder. He’s still catching his breath, cock softening in his hands, but when you look down at him, he’s a wreck. For you.

Slowly, he rises back to his feet. You look at him, unsteady now on both of your feet. He wraps his arms around you. “You okay?” he asks softly.

You lean into his hand when he places it on your cheek. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m…perfect.”

“You were so good for me. So good.”

The distance between you dissipates, foreheads falling together in absolute exhaustion. He smells and tastes of you. You kiss him softer than you ever have. “I love you,” you whisper, and he smiles because he knows.

You don’t count the minutes you stay like that, kissing. It might have been an hour, not nearly enough. Matt reaches for the water when it starts getting cold, and he lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist.

You frown. “Aren’t you going out tonight?”

He shakes his head. “No, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m not done with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Gotta make sure you know how much I missed you.”

The giddy smile on your face when you kiss him again is involuntary, but not unnecessary. He giggles, too, before you finally shut him up.

Hell’s Kitchen can live without him for one night, that much is for sure. And when he finally thrusts into you and you bite down on the golden metal of that godforsaken crucifix to stifle your scream as he fucks you to hell and back in a way that is gentle yet possessive, you know this is the only place Matt needs to be tonight—for both of you.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #daredevil #daredevil: born again #x reader #charlie cox

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pbnbucks · 19 days

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could you possibly write reader blowing paige’s back out w the strap while paige records it?😩

word count : 623

warnings : smut, cussing, overstim

summary : paige misbehaved and delt with the consequences

“aww is my poor baby crying? thats what you get when you want to miss behave baby” you coo as paige’s sobs grow loader chasing her high after her 5th denied release.

to say you where mad at her was a understatement, you were beyond livid with her. you came home only to be met with paige and her stinky attitude.

when you got home she started a pointless argument over cereal being left out in the kitchen before you left for track practice. then you took her to your team dinner only for her to ignore you the entire time and embarrass you in front of your team.

so you knew exactly what you had to when you got home. paige sinks back on the silicone as her pleas go in one of your ears and out the other refusing to give her what she desired.

“you want to cum paigey?” you tease her knowing you wont let her have her release just yet adding another round to the passionate loop hole.

“yes. need to so fucking bad” she sobs only to bet with you sliding out of her cunt as more tears stain her cheeks from your painful overstimulating.

your eyes scan the room as you push the strap back in to her as you see her phone laying on the night stand as an vile idea pops in to your head.

“go get your phone for me baby” you demand as paige follows your orders handing you her phone only for you to place it back in your milky colored hands.

she looks confused at your actions as you push her face back down in to the bed sheets starting your lust filled thrust. “go on pretty, record yourself”

she thinks before actually pressing the record button seeing her petite lower body as you slam into her sopping cunt relentlessly. your hands roam her thin body finding their way to her tits massaging them as her moans grow loader filling your ego in the perfect way.

“let them see your pretty face baby” you coo as she moves the phone from facing her lower half to now showing her twisted face as tears pepper along her red flustered face as your hand goes to her throat lifting her face up at a angle for a better view because you knew you both were going to rewatch this video many, many times.

“you like when i fuck you like the little slut you are huh?” you retort as she maintains eye contact with you through the screen of her cracked phone while she fucks you back on the toy knowing shes reaching her release.

“love it so fucking much mommy” she pleas as her free hand goes to her mouth sucking her fingers for a few seconds then to be met with her sensitive clit.

“you think you deserve to cum now pretty” you say knowing you where going to let the sweet girl cum either way, she was your princess after all. “yes fuck- please” she complys.

“keep your eyes on your phone, want you to see yourself when you cum all over mommys cock” grabbing a tight grip on her long hair as her liquids spill all over her legs, your legs, drenching the strap, while her pleasure filled screams fill the room.

her cum squirting every where as you helped her ride out her high letting the strap sink in one last time before pulling out placing a sloppy kiss on her plump lips.

“you gonna act like that again?” you ask her innocently as she almost chokes on her gasps out of breathe before responding “never again” she coos as you rub her inner thighs soothing her nerves

#uconn wbb #lesbian #paige bueckers #lgbtq #paige buckets #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers masterlist #paige bueckers smut #wlw #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #wlw post #wlw blog

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kenananamin · 11 months

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I LOVED your girl dad nanami hcs. This isn't a request but I was wondering like, imagine (I whole heartedly agree he's a girl dad) reader and nanami they had three sons. Don't get me wrong. Nanami LOVES his boys so much. And all of them are such gentlemen. He's raising them so good. Exact copies of him in manners and in looks some ways. The eldest son has his blonde hair, the middle son has his eyes and the youngest one has his highschool emo hair. BUT (now to the fun part) Reader is pregnant again and this time it's a girl.!!!!!! How would he react? And the boys too. Secretly they've also been wanting a little sister (that's so cute 😭)

Now, how do you think Nanami would react? I think he would cry, like legit he would. He's always wanted a baby girl. This is like a dream come true for him. And and the baby girl after being born looks exactly like him, hair, eyes, nose EVERYTHING.

While the boys take more after Nanami regarding their personality, meaning they're mature for their age and very well mannered. But his baby girl takes after reader's playful nature and is just so so precious and sweet. Of course she has good manners too. But she's like everyone's princess in the family.

Her brothers love her and are protective of her. And she's just so playful and adorable that no one can get mad even if she pulls a prank or messes something up at home.

It's like, even when Nanami tries to scold her (he never would) or discipline her, she would just giggle and and grab his arms and legs and just hold onto it (IM LITERALLY.. THIS IS TOO SWEET) A heavy sigh escapes Nanami and he smiles knowing his daughter has him wrapped around her fingers and he can never ever even try to talk to her in a stern manner. She's just so innocent.

Sorry sorry this was so Long 😭 even if you don't reply to it, I hope you enjoyed reading this at least.

i'm so happy you liked my girl dad nanami hcs!! thank you for reading it! 😭 and honestly while writing it, i was thinking of the exact opposite too, boy dad nanami but he finally gets his little princess at the end 🥹

so here are my hcs for nanami as a boy dad while secretly hoping the next one is a girl, and the boys praying their next sibling is a girl

is excited to have a boy as their first born, he thinks about the things he will teach him and how nanami plans to show his son how to treat women RIGHT

tells you that he's got this covered and his fiery passionate eyes tell you he indeed does got it

decorates the baby's room with old action figures and comic books/manga from his childhood

rewatches his old cartoons and shows to make sure they're appropriate for his son to watch with him

tells everyone how he has your eyes and his hair and lowkey brags that it's the prettiest combination

is excited to buy mini sneakers and baseball caps but stops with the shoes bc baby outgrows them in 0.2 seconds

likes to carry his son like a football bc it makes him giggle his heart out and nanami knows you're looking at his bicep 👀

is ECSTATIC when you're pregnant again and immediately wants to know the gender. he's excited for his son to have a partner in crime and is happy you saved all the things your first son used (nanami is very very pro-hand me downs and wants to see those tiny sneakers used again)

tells his son to kiss your tummy throughout your pregnancy bc he wants them to be super close from the beginning

on that note, nanami kisses and hugs his boys all the time to start to show them they can be a tough guy and like hugs and kisses just like daddy and not be embarrassed about any of it

is brought to tears almost every time he passes by the baby's room and the eldest is holding the baby's hand through the crib railings telling him "i love you baby"

likes seeing the eldest's patience when the baby is learning how to share and rewards the eldest with ice cream and tickles

tells his boys to open every door for mommy and hold it open if there's someone behind them

plays a little rough with the boys when they're play wrestling but they're all scolded by mommy when someone ends up crying (nanami was poked in the eye by a tiny finger and the boys thought they made their daddy cry)

buys his boys barbies so they can create a realistic fantasy world when they play. the eldest eventually puts the barbies in charge most of the time

nervous when you're taking the next pregnancy test and quietly hopes it's a girl. the eldest wants a girl too and the soon-to-be middle child just thinks it's another regular thursday aka he does not care yet lol

sighs when the doctor says it's another boy, he's happy bc they have everything they would need for another boy but he really was hoping for a girl since this might be their last child

last boy ends up being the blend of both kids, patient and quiet, but can be excited and loud if he's really into something

dedicates special quiet time w the boys to teach them to listen and appreciate quiet activities

takes his boys out to play sports every weekend to give mommy a break from so many boys and chants random phrases with them in the car

make his boys help with dinner, clean-up, and laundry bc he wants them to appreciate everything that's done for them

tells the boys to come into the room while you get ready for date night so they can see everything you do from deciding what to wear to hair to makeup, etc etc. this is when the boys get a front row seat to seeing how much dad appreciates and loves mom

then pulls them into the closet to show them everything he does to get ready bc a man needs to put in just as much effort

has coffee dates w his boys where he'll get his tea or black coffee and the boys will get a lemonade and their cake pops and they can drive around

hugs and kisses each one of his boys when he gets home which in turn makes the boys get used to being affectionate with each other

buys his boys flowers when he takes you yours. he wants to be the first one to ever them their flowers. this leads to the boys going outside to bring back a flower, dandelion, leaf, or rock to their dad. dad now has a collection of random things in his spot of the garden

weekly sit-down w the boys to talk about emotions to teach them how to put their feelings into words

does not explicitly tell his sons to kneel for women but his sons see how dad always kneels for you if you're sitting somewhere low (CUE TO EP 12 W NOBARA AND NITTA, THIS IS CANON)

is in shock when the boys come in for an intervention-like meeting asking why they don't have a sister yet and when they can get one

is impressed with how the eldest pulls him aside and shows him the plan to have a younger sister now so that he can have enough time w her before he leaves for college (eldest is not older than like 10 lmao but he's a planner just like dad)

shows you the plan and is in love with how everyone wants a girl

is very happy to keep trying 🫣😮‍💨

all the boys go w you to get the letter w the gender of the baby and start to plan a big gender reveal bc they all have a "feeling"

all start to cry uncontrollably when the inside of the gender reveal closet is full of pink clothes, blankets, and toys. someone's on the floor (eldest), someone is running laps around everything and everyone (middle), someone is carefully touching your tummy (nanami) and another is asking if they can name her like their favorite anime character (youngest)

all start reading and researching how to raise a girl and are visibly stressed yet excited

nanami starts creating lists of cute clothes and can stay up all night imagining a giggling little girl on his shoulders

cries if he's by himself and in his feelings bc he's so overwhelmingly happy w his life and kids, feels like the luckiest man

goes to lowe's to get paint to prepare his princess's room and the boys are in overalls and ready to paint when he gets home

imagines a little girl joining their coffee dates and the boys giving her their mud pies and holding her hand everywhere they go

sees the most beautiful little girl and is blinded by the love his kids have for each other

will pass by the baby's room in the middle of the night to see all 3 boys sleeping on the floor right next to her crib. grabs his pillow and joins his boys on the floor

buys a new baby kangaroo for the boys to decorate and carries their princess EVERYWHERE

has to break up arguments the boys start to have over who gets to push the stroller this time

the boys dress her up in their old sneakers and baseball caps

all wear tutus and tiaras while they patiently wait for her to pour them their cup of tea during tea time

the two youngest boys teach her how to get someone in a headlock to defend herself and nanami and eldest have to step in

eldest then secretly teaches her men's weak spots and plans to take her to a self defense class eventually

babygirl is always giggling and is so playful, her and mommy have got these boys wrapped around their fingers

nanami is always swaying whenever he’s standing still bc babygirl attaches herself to his leg and he swings her back and forth for as long as he’s standing straight. making a sandwich? swinging the baby on his leg. brushing teeth? swinging the baby on his leg. working on his standing desk? swinging the baby on his leg.

the bros get defensive if someone tries to scold her but they’ll pull her aside themselves and tell her why it was wrong. nanami stands outside the door and listens to them

nanami still asks his boys to go out and at least two suggestions from the boys include the little princess

nanami and boys for sure stare at mommy and princess in awe at random times

they all know the girls have the deciding vote and they run the whole house. and they love it 😌

nanami is so girl dad coded BUT he would be the best dad in general. he for sure needs a little girl somewhere in the mix but he’d win the fatherhood award for sure

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macbethsymphony · 2 months

Note

charlou my love! I'm about to invade your askbox with all my horny thoughts. Dont' you dare answer them all at the same time, I know you're busy <3

Ok so! As you know I'm rewatching Wano and you know that gif of Marco's mouth? (sent it to you I don't know how many times). Anyways it sent my mind spiraling into what if Marco was angry with you and it just made him snap? My pretty usually composed bird just losing it? I bet he'd fuck good hehe

love ya! -M✨

Millie bb!!!!! I was gonna keep this one really short but you made it spiral out into something almost complete!!!! How dare you?! (jk love you for it)

It's this gif, right? ngl it sends my mind spiraling into unholy territory too

You're infuriating

Marco x fem!Reader

Summary: You’re angry at Marco and he’s angry at you and you fuck. It’s that simple ;)

tw: MDNI, 18+, nsfw, rough-ish angry sex, fingering, p in v sex

wc: 3.2k

It was a well-known fact that the first commander of the Whitebeard Pirates was nearly impossible to anger, notoriously difficult to rile up. Countless people had tried and failed to provoke him. But you? You didn’t even have to try, didn’t have to lift a single finger to bring him to the edge of madness.

"Do you even realize the risk you took back there, yoi?" Marco's voice thundered through the narrow corridor leading to the infirmary, every word laced with barely contained fury.

The stomps of your footsteps against the wooden floor echoed loudly, matching the volume of your voices and punctuating the escalating tension between you. Each of your step left a small imprint of blood, the pain in your leg raging but ignored as wrath blinded your senses.

"I had everything under control," you shot back, your own tone rising in defiance. "Until you—" Abruptly, you halted, turning around and jabbing your index finger into his chest with force. "Until YOU decided to fucking swoop in."

Marco's eyes blazed, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles twitched visibly. "Under control? You call that under control?" he retorted, his voice dangerously low. "You were inches away from becoming sea king feed, and you think that's control?"

The infirmary doors loomed ahead, your destination within reach but forgotten, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "I sure as hell didn't need your heroics," you spat, words dripping with bitterness. "I had it perfectly laid out, and you ruined it."

“Ruined it?” Marco scoffed, his expression darkening. "Your plan nearly got you killed. Again." His statement hung heavy in the air, the weight of his frustration palpable. “When are you going to learn to fucking listen to me, yoi?”

Listen to him? That made you see red. "Listen to you, Marco?" You stepped closer, and he instinctively stepped back, his eyes widening at the pure rage in yours. "You are not MY commander. Ace is." You looked him up and down, a sneer twisting your lips. "I don’t have to listen to a single word you say, pretty bird." The usually playful nickname was now laced with venom as you spat it out.

He regained his footing, stepping forward as you stepped back, the anger in his gaze blazing harsher than you'd ever seen. He started to speak, but you turned on your heel, determined to make your point, your quick steps leading you toward the sanctuary of the infirmary.

"Oi, get back here," he yelled after you. "I’m not done, yoi."

"Oh, fuck you, Marco." You shouted. "As I said, I don’t have to listen to you."

Marco's frustration boiled over. With a swift motion, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you back to face him. The sudden movement brought you chest to chest, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.

“You will listen to me, yoi,” he growled, his voice low and threatening, his breath hot against your lips.

You laughed in his face, a rich, bitter sound. Fucking asshole. With your free hand, you unclasped the holster at your side, expertly cocking one of your guns and pointing it right at his face.

“Unhand me right now, pretty bird, or I swear I’ll fucking shoot.”

His grip on your wrist tightened, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. A manic smile broke on his lips. "You wouldn't dare," he whispered, his voice a mix of challenge and something darker, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your finger twitched on the trigger, but you didn’t pull it. He took a step forward, then another, and another, until he had you flush against the wall. His free hand shot over your shoulder, and he leaned close, effectively trapping you in.

“You will listen to me, yoi,” he repeated, his lips brushing yours.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of anger and something you’d never admit to.

Fucking asshole.

The adrenaline still surged through your veins, the proximity, the heat of his body, the intensity in his eyes—it all combined to create a heady, intoxicating tension that made it hard to breathe.

“You think you can intimidate me, first commander?” you whispered, your voice full of insolence. You cocked your head back, looking down at him from your low vantage point. You slid the nozzle of your gun against his neck, across his chest, pointing it at his crotch. “It’s your last warning, pretty bird.”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved, the air between you charged and electric. Then, with a sudden, desperate urgency, he crashed his lips against yours.

It was a violent collision of emotions, a raw, unfiltered exchange that left you breathless. Marco's lips were demanding, his grip on your wrist unyielding as he poured all his pent-up anger and passion into you. And you responded in kind, matching his intensity with your own, all teeth and tongue, clashing and almost snarling into it.

For a moment, everything else drifted away—the battle, your argument, the constant push and pull between you. Your hand fell to your side, gun forgotten and all that remained was the heat of his body pressed against yours, the taste of his lips, and the desperate need to assert your own power in the midst of his.

But you were nothing if not defiant. With a sharp twist, you broke free of his grip, shoving him back hard enough to make him stumble. Your eyes were blazing as you leveled the gun at him once more, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Don't think for a second that you can just kiss me to shut me up," you snapped, your voice trembling with fury.

Marco wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a wild, dangerous light in them, a reflection of your own intensity. "And don't think for a second that I won't do it again, yoi," he shot back, his voice low and rough, a deadly promise that shattered the careful balance between the two of you. Slowly he stepped towards you.

Fucking asshole.

You retreated, each step a painful reminder of the battle that had just ensued, leaving smears of blood on the wooden floor that turned into dark smudges on the sterile tiles of the infirmary. Marco's deliberate footsteps echoed behind you as he closed the door, the latch clicking ominously in the small, quiet space.

Locked in a silent standoff, your eyes defiantly held his, the air thick with a volatile mix of anger and desire that pulsed between you. You leaned heavily against the cool surface of a nearby medical cabinet, swallowing hard against the rising tide of pain. The throbbing ache in your wounded leg grew more insistent, a stark contrast to the adrenaline high still coursing through your veins.

Gun held steady, your aim unwavering over his heart, Marco advanced with a dangerous calmness that belied the tension in the room.

“Put the gun down, yoi,” Marco growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble that ignited a primal response deep within you. “I know you won’t shoot.”

Your narrowed gaze bore into his, finger twitching with a tantalizing urge to prove him wrong.

“Not a fucking chance, pretty bird,” you shot back, words edged with defiance. “Not until you fuck off.”

As the barrel of your gun hit his chest, you could see light blue flames grazing his skin.

You scoffed.

Fucking asshole.

He wasn’t taking any chances, huh?

“You won’t shoot, yoi,” he commanded this time. There was an unusual sharpness in his gaze, condescension thick in his tone as he emphasized each word.

And you hated it.

"You don’t get to order me around." Your finger tensed against the trigger, and as his hand moved to the barrel to push your gun away, you squeezed it.

It all blurred together. Bullets streaked through the air, passing through the haze of blue flames, burying themselves in the wall behind. In a swift motion, he disarmed you, gun falling with a loud clang on the tile. His grip on your wrist was so tight you felt the bruises forming, his other hand tangled in your hair, wrenching you back, your own fingers shooting to his forearm to keep your balance. Your body arched against the cabinet, and he closed in, looming over you, his ragged breaths brushing against your brazen smile.

Fucking asshole.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, drowning out the chaos of your mind as Marco pinned you against the medical cabinet with a ferocity that you didn’t know he possessed. You liked that look in his eyes. Unbridled fury suited him well.

“You fucking shot me, yoi,” he shouted in your face in bewilderment.

“I wish they’d been seastone bullets, you asshole,” you snarled.

He didn’t flinch at the harshness of your tone. Instead his lips curled into a predatory smile. As the shock subsided, amusement and lust swirled and mixed with the anger plaguing his features.

His tongue met your lower lip, then his teeth, taking all the time in the world, relishing the power he held over you in the moment.

His hand in your hair gripped harder, pulling you back further, nails dragging against your scalp. He wasn’t kind and the pain made you gasp, and he didn’t waste the opportunity. Your eyes fluttered close as his lips found yours and his tongue darted in, dominating yours.

The heat of his mouth melded with the anger still simmering beneath your skin, igniting a firestorm of desire that you fought to suppress. But resistance proved futile against the raw intensity of his touch, the taste of him searing into your senses.

Fuck.

Your legs felt weak and not because of the gaping wound on your thigh. The familiar dizziness of lust was starting to overtake the edges of your mind. A muffled groan escaped your throat, half defiance, half surrender as he deepened the kiss, devouring your response with a relentless hunger. His body pressed into yours, every line and angle hard against your own, a testament to the storm of emotions raging between you.

His hand left your wrist, and slid down your side, hairs rising in the trail of his touch. You struggled against the overwhelming pull of him, the magnetic force that drew you closer even as you fought to regain your composure. His fingers found the hem of your shirt, tracing upwards with a deliberate slowness that set your nerves alight.

As his touch grazed the curve of your breast, you let out a low, involuntary moan, the sound mingling with your ragged breaths. Your hands, no longer restrained, buried themselves in his open shirt, nails digging into fabric, pulling him somehow closer still.

He moved your head back, exposing your throat and his lips trailed along your skin. His hand roamed down to your hip, then to the front of your pants, fingers deftly undoing the buttons. He stopped at the lace of your underwear.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, a plea whispered against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. The grip on your hair loosened and you slacked against him slightly. "Tell me to stop, yoi, and I will."

“Oh, fuck you, Marco,” you mewled into him, words muffled as your lips found his again.

With a growl of approval, he pressed himself closer, his hand slipping past the edge of your underwear. You bucked against his touch, a dangerous need driving you forward.

He took his time, tips of his fingers dragging up your slit, gathering your arousal. He teased and relished the desperation slowly etching on your features.

As you opened your mouth to complain, his fingers found their mark, and you let out a broken cry, the sensation sending shockwaves through you. Marco's touch was skilled, knowing exactly how to unravel you with each deliberate movement.

"Fuck, Marco," you gasped against his lips, your hips moving in time with his rhythm. You felt his fingers enter you, his palm delightfully dragging along your clit.

Oh gods. You felt your legs start to shake, the sweet promise of rapture so near.

He drank in your whines and mewls, lips moving lazily against yours, his focus entirely on you, fingers working you closer and closer to the edge. His gaze seared in the image of pleasure twisting your features into his mind. So pretty under him.

The world suddenly ceased to exist, the only reality the heat and intensity of his touch, the way he made you feel alive and on fire all at once. A sharp cry escaped you as you came, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

He quickly turned you around, the edge of the cabinet digging uncomfortably into your abdomen. You dimly heard the rattle of glass bottles and whatever instruments were locked in there, but it didn’t matter. He rolled his hips against yours and you could feel how hard he was against your rear. Suddenly you were ready to go at it again, craving to feel him inside you and you needed it now.

"Fuck me already," you demanded, impatience lacing your voice as you turned to face him. The sight that greeted you made you instantly regret it. His lazy grin of victory made your legs into jelly, and the satisfaction in his eyes ignited a desperate longing within you, making you want to moan his name.

Marco's grin widened, and he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Always so impatient, yoi,” he murmured, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

You glared at him, trying to maintain your defiance despite the tremor in your legs and the pool of arousal he’d just left in your underwear. "Just shut up and do it already," you snapped, words wavering slightly.

He hummed, considering.

His hand trailed up and down your back, dragging your shirt, fingers brushing over your skin with deliberate slowness. Every touch sent a growing need to your core, heightening your anticipation. You let out a frustrated growl, your body aching for more. "I swear, Marco, if you don't—"

“If I don’t what?” His hands played with the waistband of your pants, still stuck against the curve of your hips. He let them pool at your feet and as he dragged down your lacy underwear, his lips traveled along your neck. “There’s nothing you can do to me little feather.”

You weren’t aware of when he’d undone his own trousers, but you could feel his tip against your folds, your slick coating his length. Your hand shot to the edge of the cabinet for balance, a shaky moan escaping your lips as he pressed against your clit, against your entrance. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see him, but he felt so big between your thighs and so frustratingly good.

You tried to back into him but he stopped you with a bruising hold on your hip. “Didn’t say ya could do that, did I?” he said as his hand tangled in your hair once again, pushing you forward, lifting your hips until you stood on tippy toes.

“I can do whatever I fuckin—” he started to enter you tortuously slowly. “Ah,” you gasped, he was stretching you so fucking much. “F-fuck.” Your thighs trembled and your knuckles went white as you gripped the edge of the cabinet with all your might. It was so fucking much.

“Ya can take it,” he grunted in your ear the strain of restraint evident in his voice. “Fuck that’s it. Be good for me, yoi.”

Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he stopped, recentering himself.

You could barely hear the soft unsteady laugh that escaped his lips through your own pants. His hand trailed from your ass to the curve of your spine, firing an electric shock to your core and your cunt twitching around him.

“So fucking wet, and warm and tight.” You could feel the satisfaction in his voice. “Who knew you could be so obedient, yoi?” He punctuated his statement with a slap to your ass that sent you positively keening under him.

You felt some of your slick drip down your thigh and your cheeks heated. You ached to feel him move. “Just fuck me already, Marco,” you pleaded.

He leisurely slid out of you, teasingly unhurried and you felt the absence of him, the growing need to feel him fill you again. He let out a low chuckle as he sensed you spasm against his tip, your body telling all you stubbornly kept to yourself, begging for him in your stead.

“Look at you, yoi.” He palmed your ass roughly, making you wait. “You’re dripping to the floor.”

He slowly pushed back in, the friction against your walls making the world around you go blurry. You were grateful for his hold on you as his pace gradually picked up, entirely unable to trust your own legs. You shook beneath him, completely claimed, your moans sticking at the back of your throat, but he still frustratingly teetered right at the edge, never enough to allow your orgasm to build.

“Please, Marco,” you keened, your voice a high pitch cry you didn’t recognize. “More.”

He snapped his hips at your demand, turning his pace hard and brutal and it was suddenly too much. Every drag of his cock made you see stars, shattered your breath. You sobbed out his name in a desperate plea but instead he brought his fingers to your clit.

The moan you let out was obscene, only enhanced by the squelching noises and Marco’s forceful grunts. You were certain that something had broken in the cabinet, the sound of glass loud but it was evident neither of you cared as he somehow increased his pace.

Your body sought to curl upon itself but you were trapped and it was all too much. You were aware he was almost just as close as you, his erratic thrusts and the way he bit into your shoulder clear indicators.

The world seemed to fade around you and you were suddenly lost in the moment. Every sensation was amplified, the intensity of the waves of pleasure washing over you consuming you. As the tension built to a breaking point, you cried out his name, your body trembling with rapture.

Marco followed soon after, his own climax a fierce, shuddering release that left him breathless and spent. He held you close, his forehead resting against the damp skin of your neck, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Marco muttered, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

He placed a kiss on your shoulder before backing off. You whined as you felt him pull out, felt his seed along your thigh. Your legs gave out and he quickly pulled you into his arms before you could hit the floor.

“Real infuriating, yoi,” he repeated, bringing you to one of the infirmary beds.

You smiled as he sat you down and as he made to retreat, you dragged him to you by his shirt. "Right back at you, pretty bird," you replied as you kissed him softly.

It was tender this time around and he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing soothing circles.

“Let me clean that for you,” he murmured, eyes looking at the wound on your thigh. “Wouldn’t want it to get infected, yoi.”

Masterlist

#one piece marco #fushichou marco #marco the phoenix #marco x reader #one piece x reader #marco x you #charlou writes

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that-sarcastic-writer · 5 months

Text

Heartless

Takeshi Kovacs X F!Reader

Summary: you get hurt, and all you want is for Takeshi to comfort you

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, choking, praising, bit of soft!dom!Tak, creampie, explicit language, mentions of murder, blood, typical violence for this show

WC: 4.5k

A/N: please I know, lia you wrote something??? Ik, fucking wild. Its been like 6months lmao. But I was rewatching altered carbon and man I really missed tak. I might slowly dive back into my joel era but for now this is this. I dedicate this to @a-reader-and-a-writer. If this flops oh well, at least I was happy writing it.

You often regretted your life choices. Stupid decisions you made as a teenager that ultimately led you into a world of violence and death. It seemed never ending. Because no matter how many times you tried to go straight, use your skills and intelligence for something good, your reputation always preceded you, and you would end up in the same place; with a gun in your hand, covered in blood, and with another body to add to your conscience. Though, ninety percent of the time it wasn't your fault. Just like this time it was not your fault. Trouble just seemed to find you. Or you liked to find trouble, or maybe both.

“Ah Miss, what a pleasant surprise.” The AI that was this lovely hotel greeted you. “Oh. It appears that you are injured. Do you require medical assistance?”

You looked down at your blood stained clothes and hands, you felt the slightest throb on your shoulder from where a bullet had grazed you, and the stinging burn on your side from where a switchblade slashed at your skin. But to be completely honest you had grown numb to it. You simply shrugged.

“Nope. Just need a shower and some tequila.” You waved him off and you walked straight to the elevator, but before you entered, you turned around in your tracks to narrow your eyes at Poe. “Where is Takeshi?”

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs is not here at the moment. He left some hours ago to attend to some private matters he didn't disclose with me.” He answered plainly and you nodded.

“Shocker. Well if he comes, don't tell him I'm here? Cool? Great.” You were about to go up to the room you used whenever you and Takeshi were fighting, when Poe spoke again.

“Why is that? Wouldn't he like to know you are injured?”

“Oh fuck, no. Don't even tell him you saw me like this.”

Takeshi would go absolutely mad if someone spoke to you the wrong way. You still remember one time you joined him on one of his interrogations, for one reason or another. The man wouldn't keep his eyes off you, though you paid it no mind, you were used to men being nothing short of disgusting, or them calling you every sexual name in the book. But Takeshi? Man, pissed was nothing to describe the level of anger going through him. He didn't stop until the man was nothing but red. You, of course, while amused by his protectiveness of you, got him to stop.

“Tak, sweetheart, you need him conscious and breathing, don't you think?”

“He won't be doing much of either anymore.”

Takeshi was cute when he was angry, more so when he was overprotective of you. But even then, there were some lines you never wanted to cross. And if he ever saw you like this, the thought of someone hurting you like this would drive him mad. No stack would be left unharmed by him if he had any say in the matter.

So for the sake of the men you did leave alive, it would be best if Tak didn't see you like this.

“Well, why not?” Poe pushed, clearly he didn't understand the level of insanity Takeshi was capable of reaching.

“Because, if Tak sees me like this, he is not going to be very happy. He is going to actually cut somebody's head off—Again. Actually no, scratch that, he is going to decapitate and destack a lot of somebody's,” You said as slowly and as clearly as you possibly could, pausing to stare at the hologram as if to make a point. “So do not tell Takeshi I'm here, or that you saw me like this.”

So much for wanting to stay out of trouble for once.

~~~~~~

Man what a fucking shitshow. Truly, he didn't understand when the world had gotten so damn complicated. He didn't like to leave messes, he really didn't, but sometimes people would just force his hand, he had to get answers one way or another.

He should call you. Yes. He should do that. If there was one thing in this fucked up reality of his that he knew would never go wrong, it was seeing you.

“Mr. Kovacs,” Poe appeared at the bar, getting Takeshi's attention, but he didn't even bother to look. “I was not expecting to see you tonight. Were you able to attend to your matters?”

“Yeah.” Was all he responded to as he walked towards the elevator. His eyes were glued to the ground as a cigarette hung from his lips, he was tired and annoyed, frustrated and even more tired, but something caught his attention as he thought about his own self misery.

Blood.

“Why is there blood here?” He asked Poe with a slight shift from apathy to alarm as he traced the trails of blood droplets back the way he came.

“Oh… Yes.. That… Well you see.”

“Was someone here?” He asked with sharpness in his naturally baritone voice, looking around for anything out of place or broken, but everything looked normal.

“No. Well… Yes.. But..”

Takeshi’s head snapped to look at the AI, eyes narrowed as he stared intensely, waiting for an answer.

Oh. It better not be.

~~~~~~

Just get in the shower. You can do that, can't you?

Apparently you struggled more than you should have with that. It wasn't like you had a bullet in you, but then again, you also had gotten thrown through a table, and punched repeatedly, and stabbed, and shot—kind of. But man was the pain starting to infect every muscle, every joint, every crevice of your body. You weren't exactly sure how you got out of the shower. But you managed to wash the dried blood off you. Though you were still left with two open wounds that were most likely going to have to be cauterized.

You weren't going to enjoy this very much.

You were hoping to just throw yourself on the bed and get it over with before Takeshi decided to spontaneously show up. By then your wounds would have been closed, what were two new scars? It's not like Takeshi would notice two more among so many. Or maybe he would notice, but by then it would have been enough time for him to be angry about it but not actually do anything about it.

Pushing through the now throbbing pain shooting through your shoulder every time you moved your arm, you managed to get yourself into your underwear, but that was as far as that went.

You had made it halfway from the bathroom to your bed when you heard your name being called, rather loudly, by a voice you were all too familiar with.

Well fuck.

Takeshi followed the blood. There were drops on the elevator floor, stains on the buttons of the elevator. When the door opened, he followed the drops as his heart began to race. It wasn't a lot of blood, you weren't bleeding out, that was for sure, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He called your name as he walked further into your room.

His jaw tightened at the sight of you, slightly hunched over, holding your side as you limped across the room. And the look you gave him was one of deer in headlights.

“Takeshi…” Your voice was hesitant, soft, wary as you leaned on one of the couches to support yourself.

He was in front of you in three, maybe four, long, heavy strides. His eyes were frantic, darting all over as he looked over your face. Your eye looked like it was going to bruise, your lip split and your jaw looked angry with a forming bruise.

“Who..” His words were barely audible, just barely above a rasp as he gripped your non bruised jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him.

“Tak…”

“Who the fuck did this to you?”

You should not be getting wet at the sound of his angry words, but the rasp laced in his tongue had you clenching your thighs together. Takeshi was hot when he was angry.

“It's fine, Tak. I'm fine, really.” You looked up to find his frantic eyes filled with fiery emotions, his jaw clenching and unclenching with each uneven breath he took. “You should see the other guy.”

Normally Takeshi found your dry humor amusing. But he couldn't get himself to even let out a chuckle, instead he huffed as he looked over your face.

“I want a name. Right now.” His words were barely audible, between huffs and puffs as he begrudgingly helped you sit down on the loveseat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

“Can't. Kinda shot him in the stack.” You answered flatly, huffing out a small breath as you threw your head back over the armrest. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at you, noting each bruise and mark on your torso, including the angry looking cut on your side.

“This wasn't just one person,” it wasn't a question, it was a fact, he knew that. He stared blankly at you as he waited for your response. The sigh you let out was confirmation enough. “What happened? And I want an answer without the attitude.”

You winced, a hiss of discomfort leaving your mouth as he ran the laser over the large gash on your side. You closed your eyes, counting to five in your head before you answered.

“I thought I was going in for a job. Something about needing access to some encrypted files,” You recalled what you had so innocently assumed to be just a simple hacking job, in and out with a decent pay, oh how mistaken you were. “The dude that had contacted me suddenly starts getting all up in my face, and asks me some weird questions about you. And when I told him to fuck off, his friends came out.”

You shot him a glare when he silently moved to your shoulder, but that one was less deep so it didn't hurt as much, it definitely didn't hurt as much as when the bullet actually touched your skin though.

“Why didn't you call me?” His eyes were sharp on you as he waited for your answer. Was he seriously angry at you?

“Oh right, and what was I supposed to say, ‘oh, hey sweetie, could you please come shoot some people I was doing illegal business with in the stack with me, pretty please?’” You raised your voice to a higher pitch, doing this valley girl accent which only made him inhale deeply.

“Do you ever answer anything without the bullshit?” He muttered with exasperation as he angrily lit up a cigarette and took a drag out of it.

“I handled it, Takeshi. Let it go.” You ultimately sighed, reaching over to brush your bruised knuckles over the side of his face.

His eyes found your face, he saw the forming bruises, and he remembered the blood. Somebody did this to you. Somebody hurt you and he wasn't there to stop it. You could have died. He could feel the anger settle in the pit of his stomach and he began to feel the urge to rip somebody's stack out with his bare hands. His fists clenched at his sides.

“Like hell.” He stood up so fast it gave you whiplash. You didn't want him to go. You needed him.

“Don't go,” You stood up so fast your side was definitely screaming at you but you didn't care. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes looked way past your head at the nearest wall. But you grabbed his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you.. Please? For once just stay with me.”

Please.

You didn't beg often. But when you did, there was not a thing in this world he could ever deny you. He found your eyes, big mistake. The second he saw those pleading eyes he was done for. He hated the ways in which you could so easily tug at the strings of his cold heart. For the longest time he thought he didn't have a heart, until he saw you for the first time and that thing started beating.

His mouth was on yours, he kissed you long and hard. He grabbed your face as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He held you, pulling your body against his. Your fist bunched around his shirt, gripping it like vice as he kissed you with fervor, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to do in this world.

“You wanna take care of me? Hm?” You spoke softly against his lips, your fingers now threading through his long golden strands.

The grunt that rumbled in his throat was almost animalistic. He wanted you on that bed and he never wanted you to leave it.

“You're in pain..” He muttered through deep breaths as his long fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your head back as he brushed his nose against yours, holding on to the little stability he had left. “Don't wanna hurt you.”

“I like it when you hurt me. I want it.” Your words were soft and desperate, quiet as you brushed your lips over his. Pain was the last thing on your mind when you had him this close, when you felt his touch, when you knew he was hanging in by a thread. You needed this more than you needed air in your lungs.

“You want it?” He repeated, voice as low as it could go, eyes closed as he waited for that confirmation, for your permission, to absolutely ruin you.

“Yes. Please Takeshi, I need it.”

There wasn't anything better than Takeshi's cock in your guts after a brush with death.

His large calloused hands found the back of your bare thighs, he so easily hoisted you up around his waist as his lips crashed against yours without another word being said. He was a man of little words afterall. He was a man of action. And he was goddamn sure he would give you exactly what you needed.

Your back landed on the soft duvets, but his lips never parted from yours. Your frantic hands shoved his coat off his shoulders, then the buttons of his shirt as he fumbled with his pants. It took some time, between desperate grabs and frantic hands, he was just as naked as you, only your underwear left between the two of you.

His lips found your neck, wet kisses all over the skin as his hands roamed your body. He pulled back enough for his eyes to look you over. He would never get tired of looking at you.

“You're so…” He didn't have to say it, the look in those hazel eyes of his said every word he wasn't capable of saying out loud.

You gave him a smile, your eyes big with both longing and endearment. He kissed you one more time before he tugged your panties down. He settled just beside you, thick thighs caging one of yours as his long fingers brushed over your clit, leaving you to gasp against his mouth. His lips curved up slightly as his fingers moved in slow, long circles. He could feel you get wetter and wetter the longer he kept up his torture. He liked to hear you whine and beg for it.

“Tak..” His name fell from your lips when you no longer could keep your mouth closed, you were gripping at his shoulder as you helplessly grinded against his fingers, desperate for more.

“Mhm?” His lips were on your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the side of your face with each sharp inhale he took. “Need me to fuck you with my fingers, then with my cock? Is that it?”

You were nodding so hard, gasping softly when he circled his fingers around your wet hole, teasing you.

“Mhm!—Please—” You didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence when two long fingers buried themselves deep into your cunt.

Your lips fell open as your eyes unconsciously rolled back into your head, the delicious feeling of his thick fingers filling you. It wasn't long before Takeshi was all but fucking you with his fingers, and you were nothing but sobs of pleasure. He buried his fingers to the knuckle, brushing your most sensitive spot with each snap of your wrist.

Fuck did you look pretty like this. But you looked prettier when you were drunk on his cock.

His free hand gripped your hair, keeping your head in place so he could watch the way your face would contort with pleasure. The lewd sound of your wet cunt being filled by his fingers wasn't lost on him either. He loved it. He was addicted to it.

“That's it, let it go, sweetheart.” He grunted through his teeth when he realized you were so close, the way your hips were so desperately following the movements of his hand and the grip you had on his wrist was all but telling. He gave you a long satisfied hum when he felt your release coat his hand with a sob of his name.

His fingers only left you when you were digging your nails into his wrist. His lips curled up in amusement at your desperate attempts but he ultimately complied. His lips were on your forehead as he eased you back into steady breathing.

“You okay?” He was quiet, but you heard it. You simply nodded in response, still not fully able to find your voice. Good enough. “Good, ‘cause I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve now.”

He grabbed your arms and flipped you on your stomach with ease. You were taken aback, instinctively pushing yourself up on your forearms, but a hand on your back forced you back down.

“Easy. Just relax, sweetheart,” he shushed you softly, you felt him move around for a second until you felt him behind you, right in between your open thighs. “Lemme take care of you, hm?”

Your response was in the form of a soft hum, you lied flat on your stomach, your head to the side so you could breathe and your ass up enough for him to do as he pleased. And you waited, rather impatiently. You could feel Takeshi's hands on your hips, then up your back, until one of them settled on your shoulder blades.

You were about to open your mouth when you felt the head of his cock brush over your wet clit. The only sound leaving your throat was that of a choked out moan.

“You want it?” His lips were on your ear, voice smooth, but with this baritone rasp, a combination that drove you insane. You were nodding into the blankets.

“Yes, Takeshi. Please.”

Fuck, he was rolling his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips like that. He didn't need to say anything else. He pushed himself into you with a long, hard thrust that had you gasping.

“Ahh….” You squeezed your eyes shut, hands squeezing the sheets in front of you at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. You have been with Takeshi for some time now, but you never truly got used to the size of him (with this sleeve at least). “Fuck— you're so..”

He eased a hand up and down your back, shushing you softly, he was used to it by now. When he felt you start to back into his cock he knew you were fine. He dug his fingers into your shoulder, holding you down on the mattress as he snapped his hips. A gasped cry left your lips. Again, and again with each brush of his cock, until he had you sobbing into the mattress.

Takeshi, he fucked hard, and he liked it rough, but he had learned to take his time, he learned to take it slow, drag out the feeling for as long as possible, until you were nothing but a sobbing mess. His hand was wrapped around your hair, pushing your head down as he leaned over you. His chest was flush against your back as he rutted his hips against your ass, his lips on the back of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere he could.

Takeshi wasn't very talkative, ever, but goddamn was he noisy. His heavy pants, ragged grunts, the occasional fuck, were all in your ear which each delicious drag of his cock.

“Goddamn,” he breathed out, nipping at your jaw as he pulled your head up enough to look at your fucked out face, “you feel so fucking good.”

“Mhmmm. Shit, Tak. Feels so—” You couldn't even finish a cohesive sentence you were so cock drunk, so high on the feeling of his cock brushing that one spot that had you rolling your eyes. You reached behind you, trying to grab him, any of him.

“Feels good, doesn't it baby?” You could hear the slight smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm over your neck from shoulder to shoulder, almost as if he was putting you in a headlock.

“Yes! Fuck yes—”

“Of course it does.”

That was enough of taking it slow for one night.

Takeshi held you in place with his arm over your neck as he drilled into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth were sobs and choked out pants. You couldn't say any words at that point. He was fucking you so hard into that mattress you didn't even realize when the burn in your stomach started to build. All you knew it was that you were digging your nails into his arms so hard the marks would be there for days. It felt good to be caged under his body, with nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else.

“C'mon, let me take care of you. I'm right here.” He rasped out, hanging on by a thread himself. God, it felt so fucking good. You were barely hanging on. But the second his thumb found your swollen clit you were done for. You couldn't even make a sound, you fell into a silent cry, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your release washed over you. “That's it. I got you.”

He could feel your release coat his cock, and the feeling of you coming all over him only made him go over the edge himself. He gave you two, maybe three more long, hard drags of his cock before he was spilling himself inside you with a breathy fuck leaving his lips in the process.

You all but collapsed, your head falling on the pillows as you panted, Takeshi did the same. He dropped his face on your neck, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stayed there for some time, he couldn't hold himself up forever, but fuck this felt so nice. You underneath him, wrapped under his arms, nobody could hurt you here. His lips eventually found the side of your head for a chaste kiss before he moved to lay beside you. But the distance between you lasted a whole five seconds because he was pulling you to him. He positioned you to face him, one leg thrown over his torso as both of his arms caged you in. He would keep you here if he could.

Silence ultimately drowned out your soft breaths, but not once did he stop looking at you. And you could tell something eating at him, weighing on his chest. You brought a hand to his face and you saw him close his eyes with a sigh.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.” He finally said, riddled with guilt and anger all over again. You frowned softly and shook your head at him.

“Stop that, okay? It wasn't your fault.” You answered, smoothing out the soft frown above his eyebrows. He looked at you, watching as you brushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes but he said nothing. “I'm a big girl, Takeshi. What I do or what messes I get myself into are not your fault. So stop. If I was mad at you I wouldn't let you rearrange my guts, would I?”

Takeshi didn't laugh often. Or ever really. But sometimes your absurdity brought on a genuine chuckle out of him.

“Aw, so he has a sense of humor. He's not a robot!” You snorted, raising your voice like you were announcing it to the entire city. He rolled his eyes at you.

“I don't fuck like a robot, do I?” There was a tiny shit eating grin on his face which made you shove his shoulder playfully.

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You kissed him with a soft laugh.

~~~~~~~

Goddammit Takeshi Kovacs.

This man just simply couldn't wake up and stay in bed with you for one day. Just one fucking time, you asked.

You groaned tiredly as you stretched out your sore muscles before sitting up. No tall angry looking envoy anywhere. How tragic. You were about to get out of bed when the door swung open. You were about to reach for your gun on the nightstand when you saw it was just Takeshi, and he looked rather amused.

“You're awake.” He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise, expecting you to be passed out after the night you had, partly his doing. You looked at him with suspicion as he walked to the bed. “I have something for you.”

“Is it a decapitated head?” You blinked at him, feigning innocence and he chuckled.

“No. Well I didn't bring it here anyway.” He shrugged as he handed you a red and blue switchblade. It looked kind of cool. You stared at it for a good few seconds before you looked up at him with confusion.

“What's this?”

“The owner of this.” He pointed at the brand new scar on your side. Your eyes widened with realization and your mouth fell open.

“Takeshi—”

“I don't want to hear you.” He cut you off before you could even yell at him for not letting it go. You frowned at him deeply. He sighed as he sat beside you. “They had it coming. They touched you. It's that simple.”

You stared at him, and you wanted to force yourself to be angry at him, angry at him for not letting it go, angry at him for treating you like some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. But when you looked into his eyes you didn't see the hero's complex. Not at all. You saw a man who was looking at the only thing that mattered to him in this world. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone take that away from him again.

“Awe, baby, so you aren't so heartless after all.” Your smile was mocking on the outside, but deep down it was one of endearment.

“Fuck you.”

You loved him. And even someone as heartless as him was capable of love, too.

#takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs smut #takeshi kovacs x fem reader #takeshi kovacs x f!reader #takeshi kovacs #altered carbon #joel kinnaman

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eriexplosion · 5 months

Text

Yesterday everyone was posting their feelings on TBB. I'm glad I waited, because there's a lot swirling around. Cut for negativity again.

I was introduced to The Bad Batch in August 2022 and fell instantly in love. The characters, the story, the complex family dynamics, they all spoke to me. I wasn't even a Star Wars fan but I went through and devoured The Clone Wars, Rebels, The Mandalorian, all of it. I threw myself into this world and adored every second of it. I must have rewatched season one over five times before season two even came out.

When season two premiered I loved it. Every Tuesday night I stayed up until the episode drop and devoured it immediately. I looked ahead at the schedule and took days off work for the double episodes, for the big Crosshair episodes - he was my favorite early on and season two only made that grow. But season two also really brought Tech into my radar even more. I had always liked him, but here he was shining. The Crossing really solidified it, as an autistic person. I'd never heard someone describe the difference in processing so succinctly before, so clearly, and it spoke to me like very little had. Here was a character that was like me. Here was a character that I needed when I was an undiagnosed child, someone that would have made me feel like I had at least some way of describing my differences.

Then, well. He died. It was an affecting scene, but it felt out of nowhere, it felt unfinished. Tech didn't even get the climax of the episode. He just fell into the clouds, the Batch grieved for a few minutes, and then the plot steamrolled right along.

I didn't believe it, not after the mad scientist presented his goggles and claimed not to salvage anything else. It seemed like such an obvious fake out. The longer I sat with it the less satisfying it felt. It felt so brushed over, so pointless, all for a mission that they accomplished nothing on. Then came the social media circus. Again and again his fall was shoved in our faces on Twitter, demanding we stream it. TikToks were made that were so out of touch they felt like parodies, the wound ripped open again and again, and I thought surely there had to be a purpose to it.

So I waited for season 3 as interviews were done that seemed to almost intentionally avoid calling him dead. As tweets were made promising we'd be so fulfilled if we could only see who was onscreen in the mid-season! (A tweet that immediately garnered dozens of people hoping it referred to Tech, all without a single comment to try and quell the speculation.) It felt already like we were being toyed with, but I thought it had to be for a reason or a purpose. More weirdly vague discussions went up about his Sacrifice, his Fall, his Anything But Death, even as everyone insists that it was so meaningful, the way he died on a mission that accomplished nothing. Jokes were made around Valentines Day.

He Fell For You, get it?

The first official use of killed went up on the databank right after the trailer, on Hunter's page of all places. The first time the interviews used dead was the Friday before the premier. It all felt too late, theories had already grown for months by that point.

Season 3 finally came and I waited up for every episode drop just like I did for season 2, hoping for him to come back or at least for him to be properly grieved, since we had barely a couple of minutes in Plan 99 before it was swept away for the next plot point. Surely Tech's impact deserved an episode of focus, if he were really gone.

The previously on plays his last words twice. But then we skip months into the future. We don't see Crosshair find out the news - even though Tech died on a mission to retrieve him. We don't watch Omega grieve. She barely seems to notice she's missing a brother. We got a brief allusion in episode two. It took three episodes to even mention his name in passing. Five episodes in everyone got their chance to look sad about him, but only for a few seconds and only when his skills were relevant. Compared to the gorgeous callback to Mayday in the same episode, it felt shallow. He had to have been more important than this didn't he?

Episodes 6 & 7 felt like maybe there was a reason. We see a new masked assassin that gets extra focus, who got put through a series of Tech-adjacent situations, whose beef with Crosshair was just a little too personal, who survived longer than all the rest but stayed masked. Rex talks about losing brothers, but Hunter says nothing about the brother they lost. I hoped it all meant something, that this was the reason that he felt so much like he was thrown away, so that he could come back in.

More one off mentions that only really come up when it's about how useful Tech would have been. More poking at the wound that still felt open and raw because we'd never gotten any closure. The closest we get is a single scene in episode eleven, so late in the season and so brief that I thought that couldn't possibly be it.

CX-2 comes back, and he talks like Tech. He's still not unmasked. I really need him to be something because otherwise what was it all for?

The most emotion comes in Juggernaut, from Phee. Its a highlight because it actually feels like it was about him, like he mattered as a person. It's episode twelve and we finally talk about him like a person. We never saw her get the news either.

Episodes thirteen and fourteen pass without any mentions at all. We're running out of time. Episode 15 hits and we get one raw one from Crosshair that Clone Force 99 died with Tech. It's the first time they directly say he's dead in so many words. It's the season finale. CX-2 is a nobody it turns out, and he dies faceless. Everyone gets a happy ending and after over a year of wondering if we'd ever get closure, it turns out Tech's just dead. But look how happy everyone else is!

Everyone gets to grow old. Except the autistic one of course. He's just dead and it hardly feels like it mattered at all. Did you know Wrecker and Hunter don't use his name once in season three? Omega and Echo mention him once each. Crosshair twice, only once with any emotion behind it. Phee tops the charts at three mentions, two by name and one by nickname. We see his goggles four times. I kept count.

There was never a bigger plan, this was just all he was worth. We spent two seasons on Crosshair's absence. We spent a whole episode dealing with it when Echo decided to go with Rex. Tech dies though and all his life amounted to was a handful of mentions when his skills would have been useful, some shots of his broken goggles, and endless cooing out of the text over how meaningful his sacrifice was. Too meaningful to take back, of course, even as Ventress is brought back from her own sacrifice.

I had really, really thought that this time autistic life would be worth more than autistic death. That a character that felt so carefully handled couldn't have just been thrown away for shock value, barely to even be mentioned again, his memory used to string us along to keep us watching. If you added up every mention and shot through season 3 it might actually clock in at less time than was spent on Mayday's send off.

I'm an adult. I'll survive, though the sting of seeing yet another character like me used as a stepping stone for everyone else's happy ending will take a while to fade. But I think about the child I used to be who needed a character like Tech. And I think about how it would have felt to actually get that only to watch him die a handful of episodes later as a side note to his family's story, barely even mentioned again. How badly it would have hurt, how deep it would have scarred.

I'm not that child anymore. But there are a lot of autistic kids out there that are the same as I used to be, and they're learning for the first time that people like us don't get happy endings. Instead they die so that everyone around them can rise up, and they might even get mentioned a few times. But don't worry. Everyone will tell you how meaningful and special it is and how delusional you were to ever hope for anything else.

The Bad Batch still means a lot to me. I think it always will. I love the characters. I love the family, and all the potential they had. But the sting of not belonging in this happy ending is there, and it's deep. It's been a long time since I trusted a show. It'll be a long time before I risk trusting another. And I hope that the autistic kids trying to learn how to close their hearts off behind new walls are doing okay.

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #could not sleep so I'm in my feels instead #it did help to type it out #I'm not going anywhere fandom wise but I have to admit I'm hurt

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ohbabydollie · 6 months

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(celeb s/o anon here) but i would totally ride ted while he watched the animated barbie movies and got a bit mad because he NEEDS to do research and he WON’T be rewatching anything lmaoo

he’s absolutely bored sitting there and watching those stupid movies that don’t make any sense, he’s absolutely bored out of his mind until you walk in. you happily sit down next to him when you realize he’s watching your favorite barbie movie.

he pulls you into his lap, draping a blanket over the both of you, happily cuddling until a few movies later you realize he’s hard.

before you know it you’re slowly taking his long cock, feeling every vein and ridge inside of you as you bottom out. you try to stay focused on the movie but the way ted’s cock is hitting your g spot perfectly and just resting there, the occasional movement of his hips when he readjusts himself, his arms wrapped around your waist.

you couldn’t help yourself but just move a little, letting out a soft moan.

“bunny, stop it” he warns

“not doing anything” you mutter back, now stopping, your walls squeezing his cock from the need for friction.

so you sit there again, trying to ignore it, but it’s like ted is doing it on purpose, moving just enough to be resting his thick head on the spongy spot inside you.

he wouldn’t mind if you were just getting comfy, would he?

so you lifted your self from his cock “adjusting” yourself with a few silent moans before sitting back down at a different angle, this time ted was a little deeper.

“thought i told you to stop it”

“im just getting cozy”

“well this is your last warning, im not gonna rewatch these stupid movies because you wanna be a fucking tease” ted says grabbing your hips as you smile

“m’kay”

somehow a movie later you find yourself aching for relief, just wanting to bounce on ted’s cock, but you can’t…

well it wouldn’t do any harm if he didn’t notice

you gave an experimental movement that ted didn’t seem to notice and another until you were softly moving on his cock, but what you didn’t take in account were the soft noises coming from you

soft sighs and shaky breaths, your hip’s subconsciously moving faster until you feel a slap to your thigh

“honey, what did i say?” ted asks now stopping you, you turn to look at him innocently

“don’t remember”

he sighs, lifting you off his cock and before you can get away he slams you down, forcing a loud cry from you and feeling him angle his hips to go impossibly deeper into you.

“i’m not gonna rewatch these movies because you wanna be a fuckin tease, now sit there and keep my cock warm” he demands in a deep voice as he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you there tightly

now you have to sit patiently

#ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison x you #ted nivision smut #ted nivison x reader #ted nivision x reader

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vamph00n · 5 months

Note

idea, but idk if you take ideas

reader gets turned on by hoon’s vampire like features, and convinces him to rp as one while they’re fucking

mdni

tags: femreader, vampire kink, mentions of the twilight movies, hoon is jealous obv.

*not proofread will do later

wc: 1,2k

smut tags under the cut

i added my own lil spin on it annonie~ mainly cause i’ve been rewatching twilight rndjsoskdndknsla

smut tags: biting kink, implications of sex, dirty talk, chest groping, etc

he doesn’t know how many times you watched those stupid twilight movies. all he knew is that you fawned over some guy in those films with the most victorian name ever. he wasn’t your type and sunghoon was sure of it, why would he be your type when he; your boyfriend, was right there? nah, he didn’t like that you thought of any other men than him. even if he was fictional.

you had all the books too, along with whatever smutty literature he saw on that well dusted shelf in your house. you lived in those dirty fantasies when he was right there. the way you’d kick your feet and giggle while watching those movies. it really pissed him off, it was all imaginary, pretend. it was stupid for him to be so jealous, but god there was one thing he hated the most about your little hyper fixation…

well, the thing is sunghoon doesn’t want to come off as a pissy bitch. he’ll happily go along with whatever endeavors you put him through. it’s just when you make him watch the same few movies with you again, he felt his ego shrink every passing second spent staring at robert pattinson play a vampire. especially when your comments consisted of comparisons between him and edward whats-his-face’s character.

“look at him hoon, he’s like all sparkly in the sun, n’ he has like this mad gaze.” Your eyes pan over to your boyfriend, watching him stare at the tv blankly, in a boredom induced daze.

he’s tuning out what you’re saying, because well, it makes him feel somewhat inadequate. it’s so rare for him to feel this way. he’s so self assured, maybe even a little egotistical sometimes. how can he not be? you yourself loaded up his little brain with compliments and ideas. saying how he’s the man of your fucking dreams, or the way your body contorted in different ways, becoming helpless when he did so little as touching you. hell yeah, you made him feel so damn special.

with his brows furrowed at the screen, he sees your odd stare from the corner of his eye. why do anything to reassure you of what you were thinking in that moment? he knows you, he can practically read your mind. before diverting your attention back to the screen a scoff leaves your mouth. call him petty or whatever you want, he just wants to get through watching this god forsaken movie for the millionth time without his brain frying.

sunghoon is so ridged. his arms are crossed, and he’s like, all stiff. whatever, you can deal with it. although it’s frustrating that he’s so oblivious.

you find yourself scooting closer, leaning and commenting on the movie. with each sentence you say, you can feel his dreary attitude loom over. it’s given, you’ve forced him to death watch your silly little movies to the point where he himself can recite each word.

“he’s like, —i don’t know. like can you imagine? getting puncture wounds, and hickeys at the same—“

that’s where sunghoon draws the line.

“can you shut up?”

dang. he was livid. you have right to your own thoughts but to think like that? when he’s right there? when he can well rip off your panties and fuck you the way this guy can’t because it’s all speculative? all you had to do was let him, just ask and he’ll deliver. you know it.

but then again, you boyfriend is as dense as concrete and dumb as bricks sometimes. guess you’d have to give him a nudge, a hint too probably.

“i mean, can you imagine what’s it like to be a vampire?”

you’ve practically told him what you wanted, and he still has that red cloudy look of jealousy with somewhat of a frown on his face and his overgrown bangs shading his eyes. if he wasn’t upset, you’d tell him how cute he looks right now. how dumb he is, is also what you’d tell him. then again you weren’t exactly being straightforward.

with your question slipping in one ear and out the other, he just tunes you out. yeah it’s pathetic he feels so strongly about something so meaningless, could he help it though? he was insane about you.

your eyes darken as you grab the remote, and thank goodness you turned it off. sunghoon finds you sliding on of your legs over his thighs as you take a seat. you gaze into his eyes, he looks annoyed. he’s suppressing the urge to just fuck the stupid crush you had on that twilight vampire out of you. it makes you laugh at how blind he is. nevermind, you probably had to spell it out for him.

“you can do that. you can bite me here, and here-“

you drag your two fingers indicating where he could, and his breath hitches. it’s like all his senses are tingly, and piercing. his ears are ringing, with the rush of adrenaline and the newfound excitement he had. just hearing you describe what you wanted him to do.

you saw his jaw hang slack, as you merely told him what you wanted. tracing your fingers down your abdomen and to your thighs, you tap on the fleshy inner part.

“you can bite here too.”

his hands grab your hips, he gets it now. he slides a hand up your shirt holding your chest. your mind drives him crazy. his touch sends shivers down your spine.

“here too?” he asks asks, so politely.

it makes you heat up, and become more wet than your imagination allowed. when you thought of him like the cold blooded undead he resembled so much, it made you infatuated with the idea of it. the idea of him. how could he not see it? when you drew comparisons that surely pointed towards his own features that you loved so much.

his pretty skin glows in the dim light of your living room unlike of that portrayed in the movie. he’s real, and right here.

“didn’t you ever think, perhaps..” you say it so sweetly as you feel his hand roam around your body.

before you can finish your sentence, your breath is cut short. your back is now against the cushions of the couch, and his arms trap you beneath him. sunghoon wonders how he got so lucky, to have someone like you to show him all the ways he can make you wet. your so sick and twisted, not for your little fantasy you wanted him to indulge in, but the fact you didn’t just tell him straight up. he ought to punish you.

he’ll let it slide though. partially because he feels his cock twitch restrained by his pants, and because he’s so willing to do what you ask of him. he knows this is the just the beginning, and honestly he’ll have fun woh it. so with his lips ghosting your neck, and his hot breath up against your ear he asks you a question.

“tell me what else you want me to do as your vampire. sweetheart”

#enhypen #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #boost #enha #sunghoon #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon vampire #roleplay #vampire k!nk #biting k!nk #redacted

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icarusredwings · 3 days

Note

hey!! do you think wade would like princess and the frog (2009)? it's my all time fav movie and i absolutely love rewatching it every once in a while (when i start forgetting it again 'x3)

All of them absolutely LOVE this movie. This is an all ages kind of movie. He asks for it by name most times calling it "Princess Tia" or "The froggies"

Older wade is completely obsessed with the way Naveen flirts with her, stares at her, tries his best after getting to know her. He's pointed out the wedding scene SO many times to Logan that it started making him a little nervous. It's quite obvious what he wanted and he was in the part of their relationship where he was scared because the last time he had a wife she betrayed him and died. He doesn't want to feel like hes replacing her either so he just swallows and silently nods. "Y-yeah.. pretty, huh?" Wade will nod with the biggest smile "Mhm!!"

He loves everything about it! He loves how Tiana came from a poor household and yet was still so full of love (he wished he had that) he loves the princess aspects of it, all of it, he thinks lottie is funny, he likes the shadowman to the point Nessa's wade giggles when ever hes on screen, logan's wade loves Mama ooni even though she's kinda weird and blind but any blind character in his head is Al and it makes him so happy when she helps the frogs, He likes that Naveen would give up his royal life just to dance and play music, he LOVES Raymond's and Evangeline's parts, he knows shes the moon and sometimes after watching this, he'll stick half his body out the window to tell her (the moon) goodnight.

"Wolvie says it's bedtime. Night night Evangeline!"

"Get in here!! You're going to fall out the damn window!" (Which has happened before)

"Oh- I have to go. Kitty's mad at me again. Night night! Don't let the bed bugs bi-"

"WADE!"

"Bye!"

Its also a little uncomfortable for him to talk about their relationship while he was like this. It felt unfair and the idea of him being intimate with a kid who was clapping and giggling over Tia finally getting her business made him feel like Lottie in that one scene where shes dancing with Naveens younger brother. "How old are you again??" "Im 6!" "Ah-..."

#princess and the frog #princess tiana #kid wade #kitty and kid #sfw interaction only #sfw agere #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool 3 #wolverine

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chishiyasleftnut · 9 months

Text

Nothing but short, short skirts

Hi everyone! (✧ω✧) This one was inspired by a scene from The Wolf of Wall Street which I recently rewatched.

Disclaimer: This is not an example of a healthy relationship. You should not use sex as neither a punishment or reward as it can lead to an unhealthy relationship with both your partner and sex. Be adults, talk it out.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Warning: Smut. Pairing: Chishiya x fem!reader.

Plot: Chishiya made fem!reader upset during an argument, causing her to withhold sex until he apologises. Of course, that’s easier said than done, so fem!reader decides to seduce him.

1646 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You were mad at Chishiya. Honestly, you couldn’t remember why and the ‘why’ didn’t matter to you anymore. All you knew was that you deserved an apology - which showed to be incredibly difficult to get from him. He was stubborn, but so were you.

As a way to get him to apologise, you decided to withhold sex. Was this a terrible idea? Yep. But it was too late. You had already started this war and you were not about to back down, even if that meant spending every waking moment craving his touch.

Instead of backing down, you decided to coax an apology out of him. The easiest way? Making him just as desperate for you as you were for him. So, from that moment on you decided to wear the skimpiest outfit found in your closet until he gave in. Mini skirt? Check. See-through, white shirt? Check. No underwear? Definitely check.

Your plan commenced and you walked into the living room, elegantly placing yourself on the same couch as Chishiya but avoiding looking at him. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Chishiya taking a surprised double look at you before turning his gaze back at the TV. Even though he acted unaffected, you noticed the way he shifted in his seat and licked his lip. Clear signs of arousal. Success! You got him. Now you just had to play the waiting game.

However, to your dismay, nothing but occasionally glances happened. You had to up your antics. As if there were no intentions behind your movement, you changed your position, so you were lying down with your legs facing Chishiya. Your knees were bent and just far enough apart that he could see your lack of underwear.

Chishiya noticed immediately, his eyes lingering on the sight before him for a few too many seconds for it to appear natural. His hands were clenched tightly into fists, the veins on them popping up underneath his skin. He shifted again, this time to move the growing hardness that was now feeling rather cramped in his jeans to a more comfortable position. Still, he didn’t do anything more. He made no attempt to approach you, to convince you to stop this stupid sex boycott. That would require an apology, and he was not about to give in even if it was very, very tempting.

Annoyed by his lack of response, you got up from the couch and marched to the kitchen. If you weren’t getting laid, you at least wanted a snack. Something to take your mind off of the emptiness in your core. God, you wanted him…

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and instead grabbed a plate and some bread to make a sandwich. Just as you began arranging the toppings on the white bread, Chishiya walked into the kitchen. Of course, you were mad at him. Double mad. You were both mad that he wasn’t falling in your trap and mad that he wouldn’t apologise. So instead of looking at him, you kept your eyes on the sandwich you were constructing. Chishiya stepped up behind you, getting close enough that you could feel his incredibly hard length pressing against your lower back. His hands lifted your skirt up to expose your rear to him. He grabbed it, squeezing the ample flesh hard. He loved your ass. So much. This whole ordeal truly was terrible for both of you.

“Don’t do this to me.” he growled into your ear; his face buried deep in the crook of your neck. The air from his deep, shaky breaths brushed over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. That, combined with his hands firmly placed on your ass, made you want to give in. But you couldn’t. You had to win this or you would never hear the end of it.

“Apologise.” You said. It was a simple demand.

Chishiya paused. His hands loosened their grip on your body as he fought his urges.

“I have nothing to apologise for.” he stated.

Fuck. You had hoped for another response. The yearning was almost painful at this point, your body was so desperate for his touch. However, you stayed strong and instead pulled your skirt back down to cover your ass.

“Okay,” you said as if you weren’t going insane. “You can speak to me when you’re ready to apologise.”

Just as you were about to leave with your sandwich, Chishiya grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, so you were face to face.

“You’re killing me here, you know that right?” he said with a small smile on his lips. Although your actions were tormenting him, he could also see the amusing aspect of them. He had to admit, it was a creative plan. Chishiya took the plate out of your hands and put it back on the kitchen counter before lifting you up and placing you next to your sandwich. Standing in between your legs and leaned forward so his mouth was right next to your ear, he finally said the words you had been waiting for.

“I’m sorry.”

You both knew he didn’t mean it, but honestly you didn’t care. You couldn’t even remember what you were mad about, so it wasn’t as if the apology was actually important to you. You simply didn’t want to quit the sex boycott out of sheer stubbornness.

“Thank you.” you said while smiling. Chishiya felt your cheeks lift and responded by smiling too. You felt his warm hands move under your skirt again.

“May I?” he asked, his voice deep with desire. You nodded and hummed, wanting nothing more than that right now. He wasted no time and immediately lifted up your skirt, causing your now bare ass to get contact with the cold granite countertop. Chishiya looked down your body, admiring the way your needy opening was already dripping with desire. A singular strong finger moved down between your folds, sliding up and down to tease your entrance.

“Mmm... Chishiya don’t do this to me,” you whined with closed eyes. Chishiya’s cheeks raised even more against yours, letting you know his smug smirk was back on his face.

“This hasn’t been easy for you either, has it?” He asked, sounding very satisfied that he had this amount of effect on you.

“It’s been terrible.”

“You’re a very stubborn woman,” he said with an amused tone. “You could just have given in, you know?”

“I couldn’t let you win. You would never let me hear the end of it.”

Chishiya snorted. You were right, of course, and he knew that. Over the past few years, you had come to know each other very well. You knew how to make each other happy, mad, or - as right now - deeply desperate for one another.

Chishiya’s finger finally entered you, followed shortly by another one as he slowly began pumping them in and out of you just as you liked it. You were already a moaning mess, your sounds being somewhat muffled by his shoulder that you were resting your head on.

Before you knew it - and all too soon - you were once more left empty as Chishiya retracted his fingers to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants and boxers just enough to free his length. He wasted no time, sinking himself deeply into you. Your walls welcomed him by squeezing tightly around him, making him go wild. He grabbed your hips hard to stabilise you and began fiercely driving himself into you as the two of you indulged in your animalistic urges.

Not satisfied by your muffled sounds, Chishiya grabbed your jaw and forced you away from his shoulder You got eye contact, only furthering the electricity in the air. Your mouths connected for a short, but rather aggressive kiss, before he pulled away again.

“Let me hear you,” he growled.

You obliged, your moans and whimpers now harmonising with his. The only other sound in the kitchen was that of skin slapping hard against skin, as Chishiya continued to ferociously thrust into you, giving your body no break. Because of that, it didn’t take long before you felt the well-known feeling of a coil tightening in your abdomen. Chishiya felt it too in the way that your walls were now crushing down around his dick tightly.

Neither of you lasted long. With a final thrust you came undone around Chishiya. The pulsating of your core made him finish seconds later, causing his hips to stutter as he came into you. Your moans slowly died down, leaving the room quiet except for the sound of your combined heavy breathing. Once he recovered, Chishiya brushed some hair out of your face and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled, leaving you confused.

“Why are you saying you’re sorry again?”

Chishiya smirked and pulled away just enough so he could look you in the eyes.

“What you’ve taught me is that ‘sorry’ is the secret password to sleep with you.”

“Oh shut up,” you said before laughing. “Is that your takeaway from this?”

Chishiya snickered before kissing your forehead again.

“More or less.”

He helped you down from the kitchen counter before handing you your sandwich. Reunited with your snack - and of course after finally getting the release you had been craving - you looked satisfied as you walked back to the living room. Chishiya followed you shortly, throwing himself down in the couch next to you before putting his arm around you.

The both of you had long forgotten the argument that had caused this entire situation. Everything was back to normal - at least until the next fight. But right now, you didn’t want to think about that. Instead, you wanted to enjoy the feeling of peace and love that once more filled up the apartment.

#aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya smut #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya #aib #alice in borderland #chishiya x you #smut #fanfic #fanfiction

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