#i hate loud wind!!!!!!!! GOD

[nordidia]

when ur autistic brother is having a sensory meltdown but you gotta make sure he's eating so you bring him his comfort snack

[2charmides2furious]

i love loudly and aggressively closing my window when my neighbor puts their loud ass toddler outside to assert dominance

[wei--wuxian]

when all the mutuals come online right as you're already procrastinating going to bed :((((((

[carebearbussy]

𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙮𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙪𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙖! 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙘𝙬: 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛, 𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙚𝙩 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨

ᥫ᭡ 𝙬𝙘: 1.4K

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

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Truly, this moment was heaven sent.

You had convinced Sukuna to take a walk with you in your favorite place in the estate, the courtyard. It truly was a sight to see. The green grass really contrasted well with the beauty of the sakura trees, with them being in full bloom for the occasion. But what was truly the icing on the cake, was being in Sukunas presence. He always seemed to ease your nerves without fail.

And the same could be said vice versa. For some reason, you faltered his facade bit by bit, to his annoyance. But when you had asked to take a walk with him, he was pleased by this. You two didn't really talk too much on your walk through the courtyard, being more than content with each others company, since you usually don't get too much alone time.

Sukuna walked a few feet in front of you, as you followed him, entranced by the way he carries himself. You found yourself studying his features, and the way he carried himself. It was no wonder he had so many woman fall to his side. He truthfully exuded so much confidence, and was just so god damn masculine. Even the way he walked, slowly striding himself, would make anybody falter their movements.

"I can feel you staring at me, you know. You are truly foolish if you did not think I would notice." He remarks, amused by what is going on behind him. "Oh sorry ... I couldn't help it 'kuna." You say as you bow your head, while Sukuna turns your way, stopping in front of a particularly large sakura tree. You couldn't help but smile at the fact that he noticed. But you knew you had his favor. If this was another concubine doing that, they would have lost their head by now.

"That is no matter. You are quite the observant one aren't you?" He says, laughing to himself to the nickname you have given him. The wind blows at a relaxing pace, truly bringing out the best of the moment.

But your small moment is interrupted when you see a group of mid ranking concubines, one of them being a higher rank than the rest. They walk, and chuckle to themselves. And then they notice you, and you can see their faces churn into disgust.

"Look at me, not them. They hold no value."

It is well known around the estate that you are Sukunas favorite concubine, and are treated within his favor. And for that reason, they absolutely despise you. You see they start whispering to themselves, oh great. Probably the basics, about how 'shes a whore', or the classic 'she's the biggest bitch'.

You see them sit around a large fountain in the middle of one of the sections of the courtyard. You remember this was the place you were first aquatinted by Sukuna. But this was also the place where "Y/N's personal hate club" took place. They would sit around the fountain and make remarks and joke to themselves about you. You could tell they were insecure, and one could say jealous. But they were supposed to be people you could rely on. Instead, you have Sukuna.

They giggle and start pointing at you, and make gestures such as tripping and falling to make fun of you, since they know you are clumsy. Then you overhear them mimicking you, saying "Oh my god i'm so clumsy! 'Kuna come save me!". And finishing with a loud group laugh. Another chimes in, saying "I want attention 'Kuna! Give me the attention I deserve!" It all gets too your head all too often, and leaves you in a mess of your own thoughts, are you too reliant on him? but you try your best to keep your composure.

You feel a wince in your feet, the Geta shoes rubbing up against the crevice of your two toes, making you falter a bit in your steps."Whats wrong, your foot? Cant walk when a couple of broads are making fun of you?" He mimics. "No- theres a rash on my foot I think." You say, as you wince yet again due to the discomfort. You moved your leg off the ground, causing you to hold yourself up barely with one leg.

Sukuna sighs, as he takes a good look at you."You need me to baby you? You can't stand on your own? If you want me to carry, just say so." He spoke, as he walks towards you, picking you up with his lower set of hands, carrying you on his back. "Just shut up and enjoy the walk." Firmly stating, and clearly imposing that to him, this is very sacred. He wouldn't even give another woman another glance, but for you he would. And a piggyback ride? How could you say no?

You freely hang your arms

"Lets continue." he says firmly. You smile to yourself at the fact that you are currently being carried by a behemoth of a man. You turn to look at the group of girls, and notice they have stopped their antics, and instead have proceeded to look at the two of you, dumbfounded. You gesture a small wave towards them, adding onto your bragging, which made one of them gasp out. It made you feel better about the fact that you would get constantly harassed by them. It made you feel better that you knew you were better at the end of the day.

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You watch as the women disappear into the distance, and continue the focus on Sukuna. "Why must you and your kind always focus on such idiotic things?" He says, breaking the silence of your peaceful walk. "Its not 'idiotic' 'kuna. You wouldn't understand, since you aren't' 'one of my kind'." You say sarcastically with a giggle. Sukuna shakes his dead with a disapproving manner.

"Why must you always text my patience woman?", He asks. "But you don't seem to mind." Silence falls over the two of you except for a annoyed 'tsk', Sukuna clearly not wanting to respond.

That silence is broken as you walk past a mandarin tree, your favorites. You were hoping Sukuna would notice, and to your avail, he did. He pauses his walking, and looks over to you with his bottom set of eyes. "Don't keep me waiting, hurry up and pick your damn fruits."

In reality, he adored indulging your antics. He has implanted a small garden just for you. He knew you likes the local mandarins that he had a butler pick for you at the market. So why not give you a whole garden? He secretly loved seeing your face light up, and the special little way you shot him a toothy grin. It was charming to him.

He watched as you picked up a mandarin off the lively tree, enjoying the way your sleeve outstretched. He remembered he had gotten that kimono custom tailored to your liking, and the flow of the outfit to his preference. "Hm... ill pick..." "We don't have all day brat." he says, with a roll of the eyes. You can tell he was being sarcastic, you knew him too well.

"Fine..." You say, giving him a roll to the eyes back. You grab the mandarin, and he continues walking. The mandarin was plump, just like you predicted. But it was particularly hard to peel. Your nails couldn't seem to do the job.

"'Kuna, can you help me please?" You say, stretching the mandarin in front of his gaze. You can tell Sukuna is unamused. "You can't open a fruit on your own? What would you be without me, honestly." He says as he takes the mandarin into his hand, peeling it with ease. You watch over his shoulder in awe at his handwork. "Here, eat what I give you." He hands you a slice of the mandarin and opens your mouth with one finger, and places a slice in your mouth with another finger.

You gladly eat it, happy with the attention Sukuna is giving you. Some of the juice dribbles onto your chin, as Sukuna wipes it with his left hand, then wiping it onto his kimono.

With his bottom set of eyes, they study your face. You are asleep. You must have fallen asleep due to him practically cradling you. The mix of the slight bounce in his steps, and the way he was holding you with his lower arms made you feel secure. He scoffed to himself at the sight.

"You should be grateful for the treatment I give you, brat."

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[writersblockiskillingme]

Can you do like a teen hades x reader? Like, can you do something like he has a crush on reader for a while but he doesn't know how to express it?

Sorry if it's bad! This is my first request I've ever done 😅

Unspoken Love | Hades

Pairing: (teen!)Hades x fem!reader

Summary: Hades has been in love with you for a while now, but doesn't truly know how to express it.

Warning/s: fluff, very short fic, reader is considered to be blonde and shorter than Hades, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Here you go, you did amazing with the request, don't worry. Enjoy!

It was so infuriating.

Hades was amongst Uliana's crew when she was treating Bridget. Once again. He was just standing aside, listening to Uliana's threatening as his eyes finally landed on you.

You were a new friend of Bridget's.

Somehow, someway, he found himself staring at you. Your blonde hair was gently flowing as the wind carried it around you. Your eyes, oh, your eyes. They were sparkling with determination as you stared at Uliana's as you stood by Bridget's side. Your soft lips that had somehow frowned along with your eyebrows as you listened to Uliana's speech.

He felt like you were some sort of angel. He had never seen you at the Merlin's Academy before today so that means that you were probably new here. And yet you already befriend Bridget, he thought, finding himself slightly disappointed.

He couldn't deny that he found himself drawn to you in many ways, but your friendship with Bridget was bad news to him. That meant that you were probably a lot like her or even exactly like her.

That meant that you would probably hate his guts, considering the fact that he's a part of Uliana's crew. But also, he had no idea why you had such a strong effect on him. He just saw you! He doesn't even know who you are!

But, Gods... he found himself loving the idea of finding out.

°

As days rolled by and as he saw more of your interactions with people and also with him, he found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

Your courage, strength, and determination when you stood up to Uliana's bullying.

Your beauty that shined everywhere you went.

Your height that seemed to cause you difficulties every time you tried to reach the books on the highest shelves in the library of the Merlin's Academy.

Your willingness to give help to someone, but also take help from someone when you needed it.

Your ability to not judge anyone before you meet them and giving them opportunity to help you out. Even if it's a villain.

That's how the two of you officially met.

You were in the library of the Merlin's Academy, trying to reach one of the books on the highest shelf, but with no success. Your height was getting in the way. Only your fingers were able to brush against the shelf, but a shelf that was lower than the highest one. You were growing frustrated until you heard the voice behind you.

"Need some help, shortie?" Hades' smug smile was glaring at you as he leaned against the opposite bookshelfs.

"What are you doing here?" You asked him, your voice teasing. "I thought that you would rather die then spend time in here."

"Touché," He pointed as he found himself amused, "However, Morgie forced me to go get some books for him."

"Oh, well," you smiled slightly, "Would you look at that."

A few moments later, when he saw that you were still struggling, he was brave enough to offer you help, and you were brave enough to take it.

Later in the future, there was no way he would admit out loud why he offered to help you. Maybe it was the trouble you were in, maybe it was your helplessness in that simple situation, but when someone from the crew asked him why did he help you, he won't admit that he fell in love with you.

He didn't even admit it to you, even though he really wants to.

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @heartsfromcoco @hiireadstuff @cyb3r-st4r @angeliangelo @judgment-days-kid @mitsiell @ratchetprime211 @milo-webp @teti-menchon0604 @pvmkyn-sp1c3 @mystic-mae @leftmooncollector

[zyafics]

i love love love your writing<3

rq: rafe had came up to tanneyhill's balcony for some peace at his own party. though he didn’t expect reader to be there, looking utterly lost. he knows reader is new. seen you before, too, hanging out with sarah’s crowd; under a pogue’s arm whenever they see him around, telling you rafe isn't anything worth talking, or interacting with.

first off, i am so sorry it took me so long to get this done (as with a lot of my requests) but thank you so much for enjoying my writing!! 🩷 i hope i do this prompt justice (literally shaking in my boots as i post this 😭)

ANGRY GOD | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (oneshot/mini series) | x Female Reader

Content — fluff, angst, Rafe spiraling (S2 Canons), Enemies Tension, Rafe growing possessive of Reader. Word Count — 3.2K.

Dedication — to @mintforadollar who listened to me rant about this plot a month ago, only for it to now be completed <3. Prompt credited to this on c.ai!

lıllılı Champagne Coast by Blood Orange

Rafe wants to be alone.

His mind is caught in a tailspin, muscles singing with ache from his latest altercation. It didn't help that the fucker managed to get some good swings in, ripples of pain spread from his jawline to his left eye. When he enters the second floor of Tannyhill, all he wants is to catch a breath of fresh air away from the party. His party.

He didn't expect to see you.

"Out." Rafe commands gruffly. You flinch at his abrupt command. "Second floor is off-limits."

He adds nothing else as he marches over to the edge of the balcony, digging his scraped palms into the smooth ridges of the handrails. He didn't want anyone here to witness the brunt of his frustration and disappointment, or how his mind swims with disoriented and incoherent thoughts. He wants to be alone.

But you won't let him.

Cautiously, you take a step forward—not in the direction of the exit, as he hoped—but towards Rafe instead. Lifting his head at the sound of your faint footsteps, agitation flushing through his expression at your proximity. "Didn't I tell you to get out?"

"You got into a fight." You mumble your observation, examining his hardened profile to discover the bruise that decorates his jawline, swelling with discoloration, the darkening under his left eye, and the split of open skin right above his brow.

He scoffs. "No shit."

"And you're bleeding."

He is? He didn't know that. All consumed by the adrenaline rushing through his system—that has yet to wind down—Rafe lifts his hand to run his fingers over the most prominent aches around his face. When he presses against something wet, he withdraws, finding a fresh coat of blood over his fingertips.

Rafe grimaces at the sight—not the blood, he's used to that—but the fact that his opponent succeeded in cutting him too.

Now, he definitely doesn't want you here. Before Rafe has the chance to kick you out the third time, you offer assistance. "I can help," you say meekly, messing with the hems of your top.

He didn't catch it over the loud thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. "What?"

"I can help," you repeat, louder this time, wincing at the projection of your own voice. You don't like the strain in your tone, the desperation seeping through. You'd do anything to avoid returning to the party. "I know how to patch up wounds. I'm training to be an EMT."

"I didn't ask for a life story." He snaps, a mechanical response to any aid. The idea of someone taking care of him is unheard of; unfamiliar and uncomfortable. He doesn't know how to react other than complete and utter rejection. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

Rafe assumes his harsh words would drive you away. The bite behind each syllable has been enough to scare off everyone else but you remain firm in your position. If anything, your expression softens, eyes washing over his rigid posture with a sympathetic look. He hates it.

"I know," you start slowly, eyes cascading down his face, carefully monitoring his reaction. "But... wouldn't it be nice if you didn't have to?"

His expression breaks.

Your kindness strikes directly to his chest and his heart clutches at the way you address him. With humanity. Even when he's been nothing but a complete asshole to you, demanding your departure, you respond with a sense of warmth. Rafe clenches down his jaw.

When he doesn't answer quickly enough, a sign of his contemplation, you add. "Please."

Reluctantly, Rafe gives in. "Fine."

Rafe moves from the balcony deck to reenter Tannyhill, not bothering to check if you're following behind. He heads straight to the ensuite connected to his bedroom, checking under the sink for his first aid kit, before throwing the box over the counter.

That's when he catches a glimpse of himself through the mirror, the ugly bruising that lines his face, the dried blood that stains his temple. His jaw tightens at the sight.

You enter shortly after, seeing him with his back to the mirror, his spine pressed against the rim of the porcelain sink. Your eyes do a quick sweep of your surroundings, before landing on Rafe and his rigid form, arms crossed over his chest, and a cold look on his face. He just wants to get this over with.

You glance outside, to his room, with its openness, before meeting his gaze. "Can we go to your bed?"

His answer is immediate. "No."

You frown but ask nothing more. Rafe's trying to make this difficult for you, refusing to cooperate because it's easier than submitting to your grace. Easier than admitting he'd like the help. You work around that.

Grabbing the antiseptics from the kit, you proceed to clean his wounds, softly massaging his flesh in the process. For a moment, it feels too good and Rafe fights the urge to lean into your hand before a sharp pain rips through him from the open cut and he hisses.

You immediately pull back, mumbling a quick apology.

His eyes squeeze shut, it takes a moment for the throb to cool down, and once it does, Rafe reconnects his gaze with yours to find the remorseful look behind your stare, the softening of your features met with utmost concern. You don't make another move to try again.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." He bites out, wanting to rid you of that look. He's not weak. Stop looking at him as if he is. Despite the reassurance, you have yet to continue. "You're not going to be a good doctor if you shy away every time your patient gets hurt."

"I feel bad." You admit, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Why? You didn't do this."

He's the one who got into the fight. The one who swung first. While he may have won in the end, having knocked out the guy in the middle of the yard, it doesn't neglect the damage done to him in the process. But, at the end of the day, it's his fault.

You don't see it that way. "Because you're hurting."

You're too soft. That's what Rafe determines. Every little moment, little sprouts of empathy, every inch of sensitivity, is going to hurt you in the end. It won't save anything.

"I don't need your pity," Rafe snaps, giving you the first taste of reality under his razor-sharp tongue. He could be considerate, and understanding, but he isn't. That's how he learned.

"It's not—" You sigh. You don't want to argue and relent against his jabs. Without further commentary, you continue forward with your duties: aiding in his treatment and biting through the humane urge to sympathize with his pain.

Rafe takes the silence to observe you while you work. He knows you grew quiet because of his rough manners, and he won't lie to himself and say he enjoys it. He doesn't. But it adds to the list of everything else he has done wrong in his life; his long string of failures that his father can't wait to remind him of.

In the quietness, Rafe recognizes something about you. It takes a moment, after all the aches and throbs, but the recognition dawns on him that you're new. You hang out with his sister, Sarah, and the rest of the filthy group of no-good Pogues on the other side of the island. There have even been occasions when he saw you under JJ's arm, slinging around red solo cups and a grim soak of southside.

"Where's your friends?" Rafe asks, surprising you with the roughness behind his voice.

You lift your gaze to his. "Hmm?"

"The Pogues. Don't you hang out with them?"

You swallow hard, feeling like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You hoped your newcomer status would be enough to shield yourself from Rafe's wraith, especially his hatred towards your selected group. "Why?"

Rafe immediately picks up on the shift in your demeanor, the rigidness in your shoulders that tells him exactly what he needs to know. "You've heard about me, haven't you?"

You hesitate to answer. Rafe presses on. "What'd they say?"

Your friends have told you many warnings about the notorious Rafe Cameron. It all comes down to one conclusion: he's dangerous. He's irrational, self-centered, and narcissistic. He isn't worth talking to because all he cares about is himself.

However, you like to find out for yourself.

Rafe leans forward, lowering himself to meet your height and his face is right in front of yours. An arrogant smirk rises to his lips, a challenge for you to answer. "Come on, princess, don't tell you came up here without doing a bit of research beforehand."

You recognize this as a facade, a way for him to hide his true feelings because it's easier to disturb others. To mess with people and not reflect on your own. You place a hand against the solid of his chest and gently push him back, forcing him to reinstate the safe distance established before. You continue back to your line of work.

Your little push surprises Rafe. It also intrigues him too.

"They said you weren't worth talking to," you say softly, avoiding eye contact as he follows your every move. "That you're dangerous."

He scoffs at the reveal, but it pinches his heart that his own sister would agree. He values her opinion more than he'd like to admit. Drawing out a noncommital shrug, pretending not to care, he declares. "They're right."

You hum. "Maybe."

He looks directly at you with a raised brow. "Maybe?"

Your eyes finally connect with his, "I'm still figuring that out." You pull back, setting the supplies back into his aid box. "Done."

You're about to take a step back when Rafe grabs your wrist, holding you in place. Your breath shortens, and you peer down at the place of your contact before raising your gaze to his.

"What do you mean by that?" He demands, his expression hardens but his eyes are pleading. That juxtaposition, between who he is and what he wants, is the exact thing you're trying to uncover.

You aren't afraid of him. Not like the others.

"I don't know," you answer truthfully, sweeping over his face, reading the conflict his features can't seem to contain. Rafe, you're slowly unraveling, is someone who puts his heart on his sleeves. He just hasn't had anyone who cares enough to look for it. "I just don't know if I truly believe that."

"Why not? The rest of the island does."

It's almost a spiral. An edge closer to it. You think it's because Rafe finally has someone who looks past his mask, his deception that the rest of the island gladly takes. They're afraid of him; he engineered that reputation by hand. But you've met your fair share of burnt souls to know they're all worth saving.

You answer him.

"Your eyes." You explain gently. "They say it's the windows to someone's soul."

"And?"

"And, Rafe Cameron, you're someone who isn't as heartless as you'd like the rest of the world to believe."

His grip loosens from your words and you take the opportunity to slip out of his grasp and settle your arms by your side. Rafe watches as you offer him a soft smile, one that reaches your eyes, and you're about to return to the balcony deck for some peace when he follows you into his bedroom.

"That's not fair." He denounces, halting your exit.

You turn around to face him. "What is?"

"You can't come in here and make those assumptions. You don't know shit about my life."

Rafe doesn't like to be read so clearly; to know that whatever he's trying to front isn't deluding you. For some reason, he needs to convince you that every rumor and gossip is true. That he is bad. The idea of it is embedded so deeply into the crevices of his self-worth, that he's having a hard time believing anything else.

Rafe expects your reaction to meet his fury, but the slope of your brows furrow together calmly. A delicate practice over years of training. "I never said I did."

"You're acting like you do."

You frown. "Now you're making assumptions about me," you refute, pointing out his hypocrisy, and a tinge of sharpness slips through. "You asked and I answered. You can't be mad because you don't like them."

"Then why?" He snaps, irritation spewing with his venom. "Who the fuck are you to make that judgment?"

"I thought you didn't want to hear my life story."

He huffs. Rafe finds himself at a crossroads. While you're standing there, with your collected composure, he feels like he's unraveling by the seams. There's something about you. The way you read through him like glass. He doesn't know if he likes it or not. If he needs it or not.

"Bitch," he mutters under his breath at your lack of compliance, and your breath hitches at the term, a flash of anger goes through you like a surge. He recognized that look; it was something he was all too familiar with.

You turn around, about to sprint for the exit once again when Rafe calls out. "Wait."

You don't want to turn around this time. Rafe had managed to make you break through your own facade, your own composure that you spent years trying to cultivate. Something about being in the same room as the eldest Cameron makes you regress into your formative years.

"Turn around."

Your jaw is slighted, but you try to hold it together. You loosen your features before you turn on your heel. You still don't think Rafe is the person he's trying to present to the world, and you doubt that he truly carries that much cruelty in one body, but that doesn't mean you have to be in the same room as him.

But something made you stay.

Rafe crosses the large space, standing just in front of you. His breath is hot against yours, his eyes sharp. You tilt your head, meeting his stare, but to contrast his intensity, your gaze is soft yet firm, your eyes unwavering. Just because you are kinder than he is doesn't mean you are weak.

"You know what it's like, don't you?" He murmurs gruffly, his voice straining at the exposure. This questioning also carries the weight of admission underneath; to bridge a kinship. "Or are you a liar?"

You're not. But no one's ever asked the questions Rafe is asking either. Not your friends back home or the new ones with the Pogues. They treasure your friendship but they don't understand your depth.

"No."

"No, what?"

"I'm not a liar," you bite out. Rafe's mouth curls into a satisfactory smile, and he gets a glimpse of your real character. The true you underneath all that dignity. It's like his own dirty secret. "I know."

You saw through Rafe because you understood him. You shared the same sentiments. You groomed the same callousness. Every act he performs, you went through first. You can't point at his reflection without looking at the mirror yourself.

But you're a bit different. You learn to control it. You discovered that all that anger was something else. Hurt, pain, injustice. You take it all and put it in a box, caged behind thick chains and hard locks. Never to be touched again. Rafe takes it out to the open, free to play. You may come from the same origin but you take two different routes.

However, Rafe sees you much clearer now. To know you can understand him, see through his perspective, and filter out his incoherent thoughts. That's something he'd never experienced before in his life.

"The voices, anger, and impulses?" His voice shrinks, eyes searching yours. You hesitate before nodding once. "You get that too?"

It comes out when you're most hurt. "I do."

He feels like can breathe for once, to not feel completely isolated from the rest of the world. Rafe always feels off, like something is wrong with him. Nothing can be explained; nothing is allowed to be explored. Even when he sought therapy, his father denied his request. He thought he‘d be forever alone in all this.

He steps forward, closing in the distance until there's only an inch of space separating you. But even that feels too big. Oxygen stuck in your throat, Rafe connects his gaze with yours to whisper. "You're like me, aren't you?"

You swallow hard. You didn't realize understanding someone could be a reflection of your own damning soul. You don't know if it's a good thing. "Yes."

His pupils are dilated and nearly pitch-black. His breathing shortens, and his gaze pools with desire. You feel it too. Your heart accelerates beneath your ribcage, your stomach knotting with want. When Rafe leans forward, about to capture your lips on his, you ready yourself to let it all in.

But you're a bit different.

You turn your head away at the last second, his contact coming to your cheek.

"I'm..." You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. "I'm with JJ."

The world stills on its axis, and you feel the gravity of it beneath your feet. You slowly peel your eyes open, only to find Rafe having pulled back, his hand, midway through the air to hold your chin, closes into a tight fist.

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes swimming with regret.

The look on his face is heartbreaking because you know him in parallel, you know what he's feeling. You take a step back, for your sanity or his, it’s unclear. All you know is the distance was safe. Until it wasn't.

"I should go." You whisper.

Rafe says nothing as you pad your way across his room, slipping out of the door. He remains motionless in the same spot, his jaw set, his fists clenched by his side. The adrenaline pulses return through his veins.

Fuck.

It takes a minute to gather himself. Hearing nothing but the throbbing bass beneath him, pulsing through the floor. His heart is wretched, his stomach full of nausea.

Rafe returns to the balcony to pull away from his room, the place where you had been, and he steps closer to the ledge. Everything in his mind is too quiet; sterile and white-screeching. He doesn't know how to fathom this change.

His blue eyes search across the lawn and he easily picks you out of the crowd. He knows you well now. Those brief, fleeting moments attached to his soul are permanent memories.

You rejoined the party with Sarah and the rest of the Pogues, while JJ saunters over and throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close and whispering something in your ear. You smile and laugh, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

When you look up, you find Rafe already watching. His eyes are set on yours, unmoving, and the intimacy of his gaze strikes something deep. You had to turn away to preserve yourself.

Rafe slowly comes to his understanding on his own. He never had someone who understood him, much less in such a short time. You unravel him behind gentle stares and quiet observations. You knew him because you knew yourself, and he doesn't want to lose that. He doesn't want to lose you. He can’t. 

So, he decided.

You weren't his.

But he's taking you anyways.

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

[blueicequeen19]

Shot in the Dark

Warnings: non-con, lady-napping, threats of violence, drugging, forced o’s, dark Rafe

A hand clamps down on your mouth and a strong arm wraps around your waist, hauling you away from the Chateau. You try to scream as you kick and claw at your attacker, the sight of JJ on the couch getting smaller and smaller as you’re hauled away into the dark.

By the smell of his cologne, you knew who it was before he even spoke. You were on the verge of a panic attack for an entirely different reason now. Rafe wouldn’t hurt you like you’d done him but he had no intentions of ever letting you go again. He’d made that vow after you’d shot him and left him to bleed out in front of the Cameron mansion. You refused to go down without a fight though. As soon as his hold loosened, you threw your head back and felt the satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage followed by a string of curses.

“Son of a bitch.” Rafe growled, his hand fisting your hair and yanking you back just as you’d taken a step to run. Your back collided with his chest, nearly knocking the wind from your lungs as his arms engulfed you again.

“Did you miss me, baby?” Rafe groaned in your ear, a hand coming up to grip your throat in a firm hold.

“Fuck you.” You wheezed, digging your nails into his arms.

“I plan to.” Rafe kissed your cheek, smearing his blood across your face before yanking the door open on his Range Rover. He spun you to face the inside of the vehicle, blocking your exit.

“How’s this going to go Rafe? You can’t lock me up in your mansion forever.” You snap, resisting his attempts to force you into the cab. Something hard suddenly presses against your back followed by the click of a safety. Terror squeezes your insides.

“I plan to use whatever means necessary to get you to stay. Whether it be by force and threats or a baby. Either way you’ll be mine.”

“A fucking baby?! I’m not having kids with you!”

“How about I start with burning the place down with him still inside?”

“Please..”

“Have it your way.” His holds vanishes for a split second before something sharp pricks your neck and your world suddenly starts to spin.

“No.. Rafe..”

Then everything goes black.

The smell of soap greets you first as you start to come to. Your hands graze your inner thigh as heat covers you from your toes to your chin. When your eyes finally open you see that you’re naked in a bath. The water is hot and heavenly. As you try to sit up, arms engulf you and bring you firmer against a bare chest and a hard cock.

“Rafe..” You rasp, your head still too heavy to make sense of anything.

“I love hearing you say my name like that.” Rafe murmurs in your ear, his lips grazing your neck.

“You’re nothing.”

“I don’t give a shit what you think about me. Those Pogues have brainwashed you. They turned you against me and you don’t even care.”

“Why would I care? After everything you’ve done to them? To me?”

“Tell me.. does he make you feel as good as I do?” Rafe’s hand suddenly cups you between your thighs, his fingers caressing the sensitive flesh that begs for attention. You bite back a moan as you plant your feet against the tub.

“Better.” You snap, attempting to shift away from his teasing but it only results in you grinding against his cock at your back.

“Is that right?” Rafe smirks, taking your earlobe between his teeth as he sinks two fingers into your aching pussy. A loud moan escapes you before you clamp your mouth shut, fighting off the intense pleasure.

“Stop it.” You bite out, digging your nails into his thighs.

“Why? You’re so close to cumming. I can feel it by the way your pussy grips my fingers, sucking me back in because you’re hungry for more.” Rafe taunts in your ear, grinding his cock against your back.

“God, I could come all over your back just listening to the sounds you make.”

“I’ll—shoot you— again.” Your body starts to shake with the impending orgasm.

“Go ahead. Ride me when you do it.”

“You’re fucked up.”

“Tell me you hate me as you cum.” Rafe adds a third finger.

“Rafe!”

“Say it. Tell me you hate me.” His teeth clamp down on your neck and his free hand twists your nipple as you suck in a breath.

“I hate you so fucking much.” You growl, your back arching as the release explodes from you. Water splashes over the sides of the tub as you thrash in his hold, warmth covering your back as he cums right along with you.

“Scream. Come on, fucking scream.” Rafe snarls, grinding his palm against your clit until you scream your second release. You jolt forward when he releases you, nearly dunking your head in the water as you fight to control your breathing and the way your body shakes. Just when you open your mouth to smart off, his hands grip your hips and yank you back, filling you with his cock in one go.

“Ugh, Rafe!” You reach back, fisting his hair at the nape of his neck as his legs pin yours open and his hands roam your body.

“Now.. about that baby..”

[bro-atz]

all tatted up

in which: you meet san at a bar, and he's way different from what you were expecting.

pair: san/afab!reader

word count: 3.7k

content: smut, bedroom sex, unprotected (consensual) sex (remember to wrap it up irl!), tattoos, he calls you kitten a lot, creampies, spanking, completely consensual!

tag list: @k-hotchoisan apply for the permanent taglist here! part one | part two | part three

Every Thursday night, you went drinking. Why? You didn’t have to go into the office on Friday, and you hated the crowds at bars and restaurants on Fridays and the weekend. So, Thursday was your night of choice to wind down after the stress of the week.

Your bar of choice was the bar that you had been going to ever since you were a college student. You knew everyone that worked there, and they knew you. They knew what you liked to drink, and they always severely undercharged you because you were a friend. Why would you even think about going anywhere else?

When you got to the bar that night, you noticed that there were more people than usual— more to the point where there weren’t even any barstools at the bar itself. You turned to your bouncer friend and asked, “What’s going on?”

“A birthday party. Someone called in and requested the space.”

“When?”

“Earlier this morning,” he said after thinking about it.

“Fuck… Do you think you could grab me a stool?”

“I’ll see what I can do, Y/N.”

Sighing, you nodded and walked over to the bar. You flagged the bartender down, the bartender immediately nodding and making your drink. You stood at the bar and tapped your fingers on the wood as you waited for your drink. Someone approached you from the side with a stool.

“Oh, thank—” you choked on your words when you saw that the person who gave you the stool was not the bouncer, but a gorgeous man instead. “God…”

“Would you like to sit?” he asked, his low voice tickling your nerves.

“Ah, thank you…”

He pushed the bar stool in as you took a seat. He then remained standing next to you, a drink in his hand. When you got your drink, he held his up. You clinked glasses and took a sip before fidgeting with your glass.

You couldn’t even keep your head on straight. The man standing right next to you was so beautiful, and he only got more and more beautiful the more secret glances you made towards him. His muscles were bulging through his dark long sleeved shirt, and his jeans made his waist look incredibly small— maybe he had a small waist to begin with— but what you really couldn’t get over was how the collar of his shirt hugged his neck so snugly that it made his neck look so appetizing. You didn’t even think you were into necks like that until you met him.

“What’s your name, stranger?” he asked you as he leaned against the bar top, one leg crossed over the other.

“Y/N. And you?”

“San.”

“Nice to meet you, San.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You nursed your one and only drink as you spent the night talking to San. At some point, one of the people from the birthday party asked if they could steal the stool from you, so you and San ended up standing right next to each other. You didn’t even realize that hours had passed since you met him. You walked into the bar at six, and it was almost ten by that point.

“What brings you here?” you asked him.

“I’m friends with someone that brought me to the birthday party,” he explained. “But I don’t really know the birthday boy, and I’m also not a big drinker.”

“You’re not?”

“No. This is ginger ale,” he said with a laugh.

“So then… Why did you stay? If you don’t really drink, that is…” you mused out loud.

“Well, I was going to leave, but then I saw an incredibly attractive woman standing right at the exit talking to the bouncer, and when I saw her walk into the bar…” San whispered as he got closer to you. “It made me want to stay right where I was.”

By that point, San was standing right behind you. He had trapped you against the bar, his hands on either side of you clinging to the wood. His lips were dangerously close to your ear, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Am I to assume that I was the woman by the exit?” you breathed out.

You turned your head to look at him, your face mere centimeters away from his.

“Why else would I be talking to you all night, kitten?”

Your heart thudded wildly in your chest when he called you kitten, causing you to turn away abruptly. It took everything in you to keep yourself together when you felt his chest press against your back and his nose brushing against your ear.

“Would it be alright if I took you back to my place?” he asked you in that sweet, low register of his.

“Take me to wherever you want, San.”

It was only when you left the dark lighting of the bar did you realize that San had tattoos galore on his fingers. Each finger (except for his thumbs) had the same paint stroke type tattoo near his knuckles. Needless to say, they were fucking hot.

“Can I get you anything?” San asked.

He had brought you back to his place. You were sitting on his couch in his… Room. You wanted to say living room, but the man lived in a studio apartment. Right behind the couch was a bed, and a couple feet away from the couch was the kitchen.

“No, I’m okay,” you shook your head.

Moments later, San joined you on the couch. He sat right next to you and put his arm around you, his arm bringing you closer to him. His other hand remained on his lap, which you proceeded to hold. You just kept holding his fingers and turning them so you could observe the tattoo even closer, only for San to lace his fingers with yours. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and left a whisper of a kiss.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos…” you said quietly.

“I have more than these,” he responded with an airy chuckle.

“You do?”

Smirking, San leaned away from you slightly. He took his hand back from you and removed the one around your shoulder to pull his shirt off and reveal a very elaborate portrait of a wolf’s head the word “warrior” across his ribcage. He also had two thick, solid rings around one arm and one thin one around his wrist.

Also, forget about the tattoos for a second. San was fucking sexy. His shoulders were broad, his chest was defined, and so were his abs (the way he was sitting was doing wonders for his abs). Not only did you want to touch his tattoos, but you also wanted to trace the outline of his abs.

“Wow…” you breathed out, your hand unsure of whether or not you could touch him.

“Go ahead, kitten. I’m all yours,” San said as he pushed himself closer to you, his arm going over your shoulders once more.

Gently, you laid your hand flat on his chest over his wolf tattoo. Your thumb traced from the tip of the wolf’s nose up to in between its eyes. As you traced the tattoo, San brought his face closer to yours. He rubbed his nose against your jawline and let out a little moan.

“For someone with so many tattoos,” you said quietly. “It’s kind of surprising that you don’t drink.”

“Why does the amount of ink on my body have to do with what I consume?”

San’s head moved so that his eyes could meet yours. His face was solemn, but his eyes had a glint of amusement in them.

“You know what? It doesn’t.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as San hummed in agreement and returned his head to the nook of your neck. Hugging you closer with one arm, he held onto your waist with the other, his fingertips pressing into you lightly. Your hand moved from his chest to his ribcage, your thumb now running over his warrior tattoo. Your other hand was pressed against the couch, your nails nearly digging into the cushion.

“You smell so good, kitten,” San said with a sigh. “I need you so bad.”

“Have your way with me, then.”

You felt him smile against your skin before leaving the lightest kiss. He got off the couch and wrapped his arms around your waist before lifting you up and carrying you  to his bed. When he sat down on the bed, you were trapping his waist with your knees, making you sit on his lap.

The man had yet to properly kiss you, which was making you antsy as fuck; and while you could’ve kissed him first, you just didn’t have the guts to. You were still trying to calm your fluttering heart.

San held onto the bottom of your shirt and began to lift upwards. Soon, your shirt was scattered somewhere on the ground, and your hands were clinging to the back of his neck. You heard San suck in a breath through his teeth, a small groan emanating from him. He exhaled erotically when you ran your hand down his neck, down his chest, and over his ribcage. Suddenly, he pulled you closer to him, making you straighten your back. His nose brushed against the nook of your neck once more, and when he bit your neck, goosebumps erupted all over your skin. Those goosebumps only intensified when he licked your neck, and you felt butterflies rampage through your entire body when he grabbed your neck to choke you lightly and finally, finally kissed you.

God, the man was an amazing kisser. He was kissing you hungrily as if he was starved for days. You had to hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself up, but you felt yourself melt almost immediately when he ran his fingers through your hair and held the back of your head. His other hand was working on unhooking your bra and pulling it off. The second your bra was off, San immediately cupped your breast before massaging firmly. You moaned desperately into his mouth the more he massaged, your entire body aching for him as your hips unconsciously started to grind against his clothed crotch.

Realizing your consternation, San leaned back and pulled you with him so that you were pinning him down on the bed. You were pretty much laying on him, your chest pressing against his. Your lips were still locked in frenzied kisses when you felt his hands move down to your raised ass. He slipped your panties down so that he could rub your soaking wet pussy— skin-to-skin contact. You moaned delightfully into his mouth as you felt his fingers go past your clit repeatedly, only to let out a much louder moan when both his hands spanked both your ass cheeks.

“You like that, kitten?” San asked with a smirk.

“Uh huh,” you hiccuped, still taken aback by his sudden action.

San grinned. He kissed you again, his tongue repeatedly slipping into your mouth, and his hands repeatedly smacking your ass. You, meanwhile, decided to start working on his jeans. You unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans to reveal his briefs, and you felt for the waistband to pull down, his huge, thick cock popping out. You started stroking his dick, your ass shaking with excitement when you felt pre-cum leak along with a sensual groan from him.

“I want my cock in your mouth. I want to hear you gurgle and choke, kitten,” San nearly growled.

Your mouth immediately began salivating when he spoke to you like that. You ran your tongue over your lower lip and moved down to suck him off while kicking off your panties. You heard him inhale sharply the second you took him into your mouth. You teased him by only bringing the tip of his penis into your mouth with resounding pops every time you moved away. His breathing became ragged when you finally decided to start working with more of him, and you watched his hands grip the bedsheets as you swirled your tongue around his length. He flung his head back when you hummed with his dick still in your mouth, the vibrations stimulating him further.

Hearing San gasp and whimper was so fucking hot for you. You wanted to make him cry for you even more, so you did as he requested and brought him into your mouth entirely, completely gurgling and choking on his length.

“Fuck!” San exhaled loudly and ran his shaky fingers through his hair.

It was all too much for him to handle when you looked up at him with half open, hazy eyes. While you wanted to continue sucking him off until he came, San wanted differently. He reached out to you and put his hand under your jaw to bring you back up to him. Hollowing out your cheeks, you sucked one last time then released his cock with a little giggle.

Wordlessly, you knelt so that your pussy was right above his erect dick. You brushed your hair out of your face and held it back, elongating the curve of your waist.

“Shit, Y/N, you’re so fucking sexy,” San said with a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, then resting his hand on the back of his head while his other hand ran from your waist to your hip.

“Right back at ya, big guy,” you held back a light laugh, a small smirk appearing on your face.

Feeling suddenly impatient, you held his cock and positioned it at your entrance, but San grabbed your arm before you could sit.

“Kitten, wait. Let me—” San started only for you to interrupt him by pressing a finger against his lips.

“I like it raw,” you whispered sensually, causing San’s face to turn red.

“Well, as long as you’re clean, I don’t see why not.”

With a small smile, you nodded. You lowered yourself down, a crying moan leaving your soul. You knew that he had a large girth, and you mentally prepared yourself to take him in, but you weren’t expecting him to stretch you out so much. San held back a groan when you full sat down, your walls automatically clenching around him.

“You doing okay?” San asked as he saw you bite you lower lip to keep your face from twisting in pain.

“Mmhmm…You’re just so big,” you murmured.

San couldn’t help but snicker. He nodded understandingly and rubbed your thighs as you prepared yourself to begin moving. His hands moved to your ass the second you lifted yourself up slowly, and he began to guide you as you rode his cock.

Sighs, moans, and whimpers echoed in the apartment, the occasional slap of your ass overpowering the noise. San continued to cup your ass in his thick, warm hands, and every so often, he would smack your cheeks quickly, earning a louder moan from you. And at some point, he decided that he wanted more. He firmly held onto you and slammed your ass down as he thrust upwards, his cock hitting your cervix.

“Yes! More!” you cried loudly. “I’m almost there!”

You thought San was going to let you cum, but you were sorely mistaken. He suddenly lifted you off him entirely and sat up before turning you around so that you were on your elbows and knees.

“Not yet, kitten,” San drawled, his lips right next to your ear. “Wait for me.”

Nibbling lightly on your ear lobe, San slipped his cock back inside you slowly, his leisurely pace driving you insane. You could feel him throbbing wildly inside you, especially when you clenched your pussy (this time intentionally).

“Oh, fuck yeah,” you heard San hiss under his breath. “You’re so fucking good to me, kitten.”

He suddenly slammed into you, making you cry loudly. You moaned loudly as he sped up quickly, and you would let out a yelp anytime he slapped your ass. While his slaps stung painfully, you didn’t want him to stop. It felt way too good.

San grit his teeth as he felt himself getting close. “I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” San groaned.

“C-come inside, San” you replied breathlessly, your words hitching as you felt your orgasm nearing as well. “Fill me up.”

Those words sent San over the edge. He held your waist tightly and pushed himself into you as far as he humanly could, his cock twitching wildly as you felt him releasing his load, his hot cum warming you up inside. When he pulled out, you came as well, both his cum and your fluid leaving your body. Your thighs shook wildly and you let out a loud, pleasureful cry, the cry fading into an exhale as the high of your orgasm wore off.

Watching your pussy quiver as you came, and then seeing the trail of white leaking out of you turned San on all over again. He loved how raw and red your pussy looked in that moment, not to mention your red ass cheeks.

You pushed yourself up with shaking arms, attempting to get off the bed, but San immediately grabbed your waist while saying, “C’mere. I’m not done with you just yet, kitten.”

Letting him manhandle you, San flipped you over again and pinned you down, your back hitting the mattress and your head hitting the pillow. He caressed your face and kissed you sweetly one time before his tongue dove deep into your mouth. You spread your knees for him, allowing him to slip his dick into you. His body rolled into yours fluidly as he continued to lock lips with you, his hand rubbing your ass as he slid in and out of you.

Suddenly, San pushed himself up and grabbed onto your waist. He sped up his gyrations— he only needed a couple thrusts when he entered you again because watching you cum was so hot to him that he was near his climax from before he flipped you over. San’s eyes were squeezed shut as he flung his head back. You watched him shudder and cum, the look on his face sending your heart racing. He looked so picturesque, so beautiful as he came, and it just made you want to fuck him over and over again so you could have that beautiful view etched into your mind. Cum spurt out of your cunt when San pulled out, which just made you want him inside all over again.

San’s eyes fluttered open to see you frothing for him again. You watched San’s chest expand, the wolf on his chest getting bigger as he inhaled deeply, trying to calm down his rough breathing. You sat up and knelt before him, your hands reaching for his neck and chest. You pet the wolf, your pinky brushing past his nipple, while your other had pulled his face close to yours. You both gazed into each other’s eyes, your lips quivering to meet his.

“San…” you breathed out.

“Y/N?”

“Let’s go again.”

“You sure?” San whispered with a hint of amusement. “Do you think you can handle more?”

“I need more,” you said while petting his bicep, your fingers running over his bulging veins. “I need all of you. I need to see your tattoos dance as you pleasure me until the sun rises.”

“Okay,” San smiled and kissed you lightly. “Anything for you, kitten.”

The two of you didn’t sleep the entire night— San listened to you and literally pleasured you until the sun rose. You both only woke up in the afternoon, the sunlight pouring into the apartment. Your head was lying on San’s arm when you woke up, your hand resting on the wolf tattoo.

San had yet to wake up, and you didn’t want to just up and leave without saying anything to him, nor did you want to wake up him. So, you stayed in bed and traced over the wolf tattoo with your fingernail, which ultimately woke up him because it tickled.

“Mmm, good morning beautiful,” San smiled and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you into his chest.

San calling you beautiful made your heart flutter. “Good morning, hot stuff,” you responded softly as you pressed your head against his chest.

You heard his heart beat slightly faster upon you calling him “hot stuff,” and you felt him leave a light kiss on your forehead before smiling against it. You both remained in bed hugging each other for a solid minute or two before you moved your hand up, your fingers running along the side of his neck and tracing lightly over the small pink marks you left.

“San?”

“Yes, kitten.”

“Would you ever consider getting a neck tattoo?”

After a moment of silent thought, San responded, “I never really thought of getting one… Do you think I should?”

“I mean… You’d look really hot with one,” you mumbled. “Especially if you had one running down your neck here.”

You demonstrated where by running your nail along his skin from behind his ear and down his neck, making the man shiver slightly. “What do you think I should get if I do get one?”

“I don’t know…”

“What if I got your name tattooed on my neck?”

You gasped and slapped his neck lightly as you said with shock, “Oh my fucking God, please do not.”

San laughed lightly. He tilted your chin up so that you would look at his face, and he left a small kiss on your lips before pulling away and saying, “Why don’t you help me come up with one over dinner sometime?”

You pressed your lips together to prevent a shy smile from blossoming on your face. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yes, I am, kitten. Name a time and a place— just not a bar. Please.”

You couldn’t hide your smile any longer. “Of course, babes. Let’s go out on a date that won’t be at a bar.”

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

dress - m. murdock

a/n: i am not proud of this in the way that i will not be claiming it when i am judged by god. warnings: SMUT like real sex!!! dom!matt, p in v smut, matt has a thing for talking in bed, MATT BEING A TEASE!!! many nicknames, pining, praise with slight degradation, fluff here and there, tipsy reader and matt, i'm sure i'm missing one or two word count: 3.3k summary: ten months of yearning wears you and matt down to desperation. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: dress - taylor swift "say my name and everything just stops/i dont want you like a best friend/only bought this dress so you could take it off."

Foggy is so mad at him.

You’re a good employee, a great employee even! You’re dedicated to your job, and you bake in your free time, so you bring in all sorts of treats—Homemade bagels, donuts, cookies—His favorite are your cinnamon chai sugar cookies you make.

You’re intelligent, well-spoken, and good at explaining the issues that you run into. And you’re funny, Foggy would argue, you have incredible timing and wit. You always buy a round at Josies. You are an amazing employee and friend, and Foggy adores you.

So why, pray tell, must Matt feel the need to have you?

He won’t say it out loud, not to Karen, not to Maggie, not to Foggy, and certainly not you. But he’s entranced by you. He loves the sound of your voice as you explain things, he loves that your heart always skips a beat whenever you’re about to deliver a one liner that will crack everyone else up, he loves that when you bake, you always make things all naturally out of desire to make the best dessert you possibly can. But most of all?

He loves that your heart rate picks up whenever he enters the room.

You, on the other hand, are pretty much fascinated by Matt Murdock. You love the sound of his laughter, you love his hands, you love his charm, you love that you can see a chain around his neck when the day dwindles and he loosens his tie, and Jesus H Christ, you love that baritone.

So, it’s safe to say you’ve both been smitten since the first day you met each other.

Yet, you spend ten months cruelly dancing around your attraction for each other.

He’s hesitant to want you in any context, he’s your boss, he’s fucking Daredevil!

By then you know—Mostly accidentally on purpose. All his usual people are out of town or busy, so when he gets stabbed, he has nowhere else to go. He winds up climbing into your window, scaring the ever-living shit out of you. It’s not how he wanted to tell you about his alter ego, but he knows he can trust you.

And you hate the site of blood and gore, so you struggle to patch him up that night. And it makes your heart ache, all the ways he hurts from his nighttime hobby. And he decides right then and there that he can’t have you, not now. Not knowing how much you would—and really, will—worry about him.

So, he buries his want in other people that have no real meaning to him. He even goes on a second date with some of them. One of them even comes to visit him in the office to have lunch.

It makes you jealous to the point where you need to take a walk to dwindle your desire to go back into the office and beg on your hands and knees for her to leave so you can have him. What happens instead is that you go get a pumpkin chai latte and take it back to the office, sitting and keeping to yourself, even when the girl comes out of his office giggling as he stands in the doorway as she leaves.

He smells the pumpkin from his office, and it drives him wild. Just from how quietly you dwell in your jealousy, as you mask it with your favorite fall flavors.

He breaks up with the girl the next day.

• • •

And a week later, he gets his official invitation to Marci and Foggy’s wedding—A big to do, full of family, friends and coworkers that make it a real party. Matt will be Foggy’s best man. You and Karen aren’t in the wedding party, as you were good friends with both the bride and groom, but Karen wanted to make sure at least one of them was focused on the firm, and you hated to be the center of attention. So, you shared your love from a few aisles back.

You had gone shopping with Marci for your dress, Karen too. You enjoyed spending time with them—While you had made friends with them easily, prior friends had never really come easy to you.

It was nice to be wanted.

But they had insisted on you trying to find different dresses that made you look amazing. And for the most part, the dresses made you sort of uncomfortable. They revealed too much or revealed too little.

And then you came across this red satin dress. It hugs your curves in all the right way, and it makes you look good. It makes you feel good. You have these perfect black heels to wear with them, and then Karen says it.

“You know, Matt kind of has a thing about textures. He loves silk and satin.” Your face burns. Of course, he does. Why wouldn’t he? He can hear people's heartbeats, tell when they’re lying, why wouldn’t he be keen on nice textures?

“Karen Page, are you insisting I should by this dress to impress a man?” You laugh just to escape your nerves.

“No! But it can’t hurt! It’s not like he’s bringing a date—” She turns to Marci. “He’s not bringing a date, right?” she asks quickly. It makes her laugh.

“No, Murdock RVSP’ed for one.”  You look at yourself in the mirror again, thinking it over. And over. And over. Then you turn to your friends again, and nod.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll get it.” You grin, “And y’know.. Karen’s right, It can’t make the situation any worse.”

“You know what you need now? Good lingerie for after—” Your face is red again at your friend’s comment.

“Shut up, Marci!” You whine, heading back to the dressing room to get changed.

• • •

Matt is sitting with Foggy and his brothers, enjoying a glass of scotch before the ceremony when someone knocks on the door.

And somehow, he’s not shocked to hear your nervous heartbeat when the door opens.

“Hey Fog, Karen said you had scissors—Can I borrow ‘em quick? There’s a tag on this dress I forgot to take off and it’s impossible to reach—”

“Yes, Absolutely, and you know who would be great at helping you? Matt. An incredible knack for… Cutting things.” It’s a poor attempt to get the two of you alone, yet Foggy hands you the scissors and pushes you and Matt outside the room.

“My rooms only two doors down.” He explains, taking your hand in his and leading you there.

After finding out about his super senses, it became clear that he was more than capable of finding his way through places he’s stayed, and that he’s privy to a lot more information than people would give him credit for.

So here you are. In Matt Murdock’s hotel room. A tag itching at your back, with you unable to grab it.

“I’m just gonna—” He awkwardly reaches to the top of your dress, and you just move the hair from your neck and try to ease his anxiety.

“Just go for it, Matt. I don’t care, it’s just annoying.” You promise. And he does.

He folds the top of your dress the best he can and its only enough for the scissors to almost grab the tag without him sticking his hand down your dress. He hesitates for a second before exhaling deeply.

Then, he leans down towards your back, and scrunches the material enough so that he can reach the tag and bites the tag off.

You can feel his other hand on your hip. His hot breath on your back. He hears your heart jump as your breath becomes shaky. He wonders how bad it would be for him to skip the wedding and take you right here, in this room.

He plucks the tag from his teeth and smooths out your dress, as you let go of your hair. He feels this raw need for you.

And you feel it too. Yet he pulls away, taking a step back from you.

“We should get to the ceremony.” he said, trying to catch his breath. He yearns for you, in a way that anyone else would laugh at. It’s the type of yearning you read about in Jane Austen novels. That is the level that Matt longs to touch you. It’s desperation.

“Yeah...” You say softly, trying to recover from what just happened. You drop him back off at Foggy’s suite and head back to the hall, hoping to find Karen and put the moment behind you. And that’s just what happens. You watch the ceremony, and it’s gorgeous. You’re thrilled for Marci and Foggy, and it elates you that they put together such a beautiful ceremony.

And yet, you can’t take your eyes off Matt and how good he looks. He stands tall, and he really does look good. It makes it kind of hard to focus. It makes it really hard to focus. And you think about this all the way through their first dance song, through dinner, through cake and through all the cheesy wedding traditions Foggy insisted on.

You have a few drinks but eventually it all becomes too much, and you take a minute outside of the hall and into the cold air. And you’re thinking about Matt.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”

Speak of the devil.

You turn back to him and smile.

“I’ve been thinking about you.” You say, and he hums. It’s the alcohol in both of your systems, it’s why neither of you run when you say it.

“Same goes for you, sweetheart.” He takes off his coat and wraps it around your shoulders. You note the silky texture of the inside of the jacket. It pushes you further.

“Why do we insist on playing this game? Why do we watch each other go after people who we don’t want when all we want is each other?”

He takes a moment to answer. Because in truth, he’s sure he could tell you why, he could discuss all of the horrible things that have happened to him, and you could share the same sort of stories about your own life. You could sit there and dissect past traumas for hours.

But that’s not really what you’re asking.

“I don’t know...” He says softly. His hands find themselves on your hips, and he rubs small circles into the fabric. “Satin?” You hum, melting at his touch. “Words, pretty girl. You know I like hearing your voice.”

“Satin.” You confirm, your breath catching.

“There she is...” He hums, and leans in. You feel his breath against your lip, and you take it upon yourself to close the gap between the two of you.

It’s soft, full of this hesitation because despite all the flirting, you’re still unsure of yourself. He quickly eases these fears as his hands move and you find his arms wrapped around your torso. He deepens the kiss, and you both lean into it. It becomes more desperate after that.

Your hands find their way to his hair, and you fiddle with the ends, unwilling to break the kiss, even if it means air. He breaks the kiss for a second, only to come back to your lips with more passion, biting your bottom lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth, taking the more aggressive approach.

And you can’t take it anymore. You need him. You pull away from him, pant softly before kissing his jaw gently.

“Take me to your room.” You request. He obliges.

You find yourself taking off your heels as soon as you get in, your feet aching as you walk further into the room. The context is much different than it was this afternoon—And it makes you nervous.

Matt comes up from behind you and places his hands on your arms, rubbing them gently, before kissing your shoulder.

“You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll be gentle with you...” He says softly. You hum before he continues, “Or do you... want me to be rough with you?” he asks teasingly, landing a quick bite onto your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise and turn to him.

“You’re a tease, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Once or twice.” He begins to loosen his tie, eventually forcing it off and then starting to unbutton his shirt. You begin to help him with this task, eventually getting it all the way unbuttoned. Then you gently push him back against the bed and he laughs, falling onto it.

He thinks it’s cute. Until you sit above him, your dress hiking a bit. You lean down to kiss him as his hands find their way to the back of your thighs, and begin to move up and down, just being the tease, he is.

You whine into the kiss, and it just makes him chuckle further, before flipping the pair of you over, then planting a kiss on your neck.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Needy from just a few kisses?” He slips off his shirt as he continues to kiss you. One hand remains on your thigh, travelling up your thigh, eventually finding your panties.

“Mhm...” You hum, your hands wrapping around his neck again to play with his hair.

“Talk to me, sweet girl...” he says softly before he continues his assault on your neck.

“Matt…” You hum. “You know, I only—” Then his fingers find your clit and begin rubbing gentle circles, just teasing you with his fingers. It turns him from tease to cruel. You let out a moan, and he only tuts in disappointment.

“Keep talking or you won’t get anything from me.” He tells you, before continuing to tease you. His fingers begin to work on your folds. You try your best to focus. He takes off your panties and throws them on the ground somewhere.

“Only bought this dress for you... Thought you might like it...” You gasp again as he slips a finger into you, “Fuck—Thought it would make you do something about it.” In fairness, it got the reaction you had only hoped for in your wildest dreams. It makes him chuckle against your skin.

“Only got this pretty little dress for me to touch you like this?” He adds another finger and starts to move. When you don’t answer, too busy getting lost in his fingers, he bites your shoulder again. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Yes! God, yes…” You respond. He hums in approval, continuing to curl his fingers inside of you. It only takes a few minutes before you can feel yourself near the edge of an orgasm. “Matt… Baby, please...”

“C’mon, sweet girl... I’ve got you, let go...” And it’s enough to make you, cumming all over his fingers. He lets you ride out your high, out of breath. He kisses your neck again before bringing his fingers up to his lips, tasting your juices. “Sweet girl, still.” He smirks. Your heart skips a beat. He chuckles. Then he continues, “Did so good for me, sweetheart... Wanna keep going?” He asks.

“Yes, please... Wanna feel you inside me...” you confess.

“You want me to fill you up and stretch you out, pretty girl?” You should know better by now, but you just hum in response, gaining another bite to your shoulder. “Try again.”

“Yes... I want you so badly, Matt, please... I’ve been dreaming about it for months now,” You confess, “Need you...”  He seems satisfied by this, and moves back, helping you sit up.

“Well then, we’ll need to get this pretty dress off you.” He says, his fingers working to take off his belt. Your fingers run over his chest. It’s all he can do not to rip the dress off, but he knows how much it means to you and how much it could’ve cost. So, instead, he slips the dress off you and feels you shiver against him. Still so nervous. He tosses the dress in the general direction of his suitcase, so it doesn’t sit on the floor. He leans in and starts pressing kisses to your chest, his hands reaching up to your bra and unclasping it. He throws it with much less care than the dress.

He keeps kissing down your torso as he lays you back on the bed, your hands going again to his hair.

“How come it’s fair that I’m fully naked, and you still have pants on?” You ask. It makes him laugh, and he stands straight again.

“Fair enough,” he says, taking them off. And then goes his boxers. Before you can stare at him, he’s on top of you again, kissing you deeply. You can feel his cock resting against your fold and it makes you moan into the kiss. He pulls away for just a second before asking, “Is this, okay? You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you.” You respond. He smiles at your words.

“Perfect. Perfect, pretty girl...” He hums as he begins to kiss your shoulders and the top of your chest, before slipping inside of you. You let out a moan, and he groans as well, taking a few minutes to take all of you in. It feels amazing. He begins to move inside of you as he brings you in for another kiss. When he pulls away, he’s talking, “Been thinking about this for... Fuck, so long...” He groans. “Been dreaming of this perfect pussy and how good it would feel around me…” He says, and it elicits a shaky moan from you.

“Faster, please...” You request, and he obliges, picking up the pace. You’ve been thinking about this for a long time too. You never imagined he’d be so controlling about the whole thing. It works you up almost as much as how vocal he is.

He leaves bites and marks down your chest as he pulls you closer to him, knowing he won’t last much longer. He feels you tighten around him and makes another demand, “Tell me how badly you want to cum, and I’ll let you.” He says this before planting a rather contrasting soft kiss to your ear.

“Please... Please, Matt, Fuck... I need to cum all over your cock... Wanna feel so good, baby...” You moan, your fingers pulling on his hair. It excites you when he moans. “And I want you to cum inside me... Fill me up, Baby, please...” You beg. He’s happy with it for now, but he knows he’ll want to hear more another time.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me…” He pants, and it’s all you need before you let yourself come undone around his cock. He continues thrusting for a few minutes, letting you ride out your high, before cumming himself, and you moan at the feeling. He lays against you for a few minutes, trying to recover, and it’s then that you notice he’s shaking.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly, brushing his hair out of his face. He looks at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. He laughs at your question.

“I’m great... You’re just... amazing...” he says honestly, kissing your shoulder one more time. “Perfect, pretty girl...” He praises. “My perfect girl...” It makes you shudder. He stays like this for a moment more before kissing you softly. Then, he sits up and goes to get a towel to clean the both of you up. And then, he’s back in bed with you. He pulls you close as you both recover from what just happened.

“I wasn’t lying,” You start, “I’ve been thinking about you for months. You’re all I’ve wanted for so long...” You confess. He kisses your head and pulls you closer.

“Me too... I was too much of an idiot to tell you though. Almost let you get away.”

“You got me.” You affirm. He hums and begins to rub all too familiar circles into your hips with his thumbs.

“And now I just want you more.”

The feeling is mutual.

[trulyumai]

Being Away From Thou

Pairing: Messmer x Reader

Request: hiii! could i request maybe protective messmer or like someone went too far with his wife? Love ur works have a grt day!!

Warnings: Blood, Violence

Synopsis: While Messmer is away, an intruder invades his keep.

A/N: Hello everyone! I apologize for no updates last week, I was so sick, but my updates shall be coming regularly now. Thank you so much for the support, comments, re-blogs!

Enjoy!

The woodlands burned with fervor and ashen contempt. On and on, Messmers flames bit against the wind, carrying it further and more desperately towards civilization; towards innocent people led by the golden vows. 

The man himself did nothing but watch as the orange twists of flame embedded itself against his orbs, made home in the reddened iris’. 

With a slumped form the man held a crease between his brow. It was getting late, he couldn’t imagine how worried his little wife would be. 

So, with long pale fingers wrapped around his dutiful spear, he followed the muddy roads home. 

His back lit up against the blinking sky; the stars were swallowed whole with blackened ash and gray bubbles of smoke.

Fall was coming to an end and the cold weather made his legs stiff. It was much harder to leave a bed nestled in furs— with his darling girl molded against his form shivering pathetically. 

His arms would lay about her waist, rubbing soothingly to ease out each shiver that was let out. 

He could imagine now— her little frame draping across his. 

So soft, so desperate, so—

“Gods.” He cursed. 

His devotion held no bounds, even miles away the red knight could be so enamored with her. 

To want her. 

To need her. 

Messmer picked up his pace, it was getting too uncomfortable being so far away from such a woman. 

His woman. 

-

The girl hummed, her fingers found themselves busy amongst the kitchen. 

She chopped, she seasoned, she boiled. 

Lost in her tune, the weather was ceaselessly beating against the window pane. Droplets of water cascaded down upon the glass, blocking her line of sight towards the back of the house. 

Dusting her fingers across the cooked meat she tusked. 

“Not yet,” with a quick move of the hand the meat was placed back upon the rack; cooking slowly across the stove. 

All of a sudden, a bang sounded. It echoed through the little house and made the girl drop a wooden bowl that laid upon her delicate hands. 

Letting out a shriek the bowl rolled past her ankle, bumping into the lower cabinets where it splayed carelessly out. 

“H-hello?” She breathed quick— too nervous to let out a deep and guttural one. 

Turning towards the living space she was met with silence. The fire had burnt out, little sizzles could be heard from its desperate attempt to stay lit. 

The rain pelted against the walls— loud and harsh. 

Gulping, she made sure the bolt upon the door was in place, remembering Messmers words before his departure. 

“The door, darling. You mustn’t forget the latch. Double, triple check its placement upon the—“

She did nothing but stare up at him with lost, scared eyes. 

She hated to see him leave, especially so soon after his last mission. Little hands gripped harder onto the man’s forearm, nearly doubling the size and width of her own. 

“Wife,” the knight chastised.

“Is thou even listening?” 

“Yes,” her eyes rolled back playfully. 

“Check the door. I heard you, dear husband.” 

Two fingers found their way below her chin, tilting it upwards with a careful pressure. 

“I will be back in two days time, the capital has asked for reinforcements; thou will remain here. Safe.” His nails traced across her jawline, a shiver ran across the girl's spine. 

“I’ll miss you,” leaning into the man’s embrace she allowed her eyes to close. Her lashes fluttered with how warm the man’s palm laid. 

Messmer chuckled, it was deep— comforting. 

“I know, sweet girl.” Ignoring how the strings of his heart pulled at such an image, he removed his hand. 

If he stayed any longer— there would be no going to the useless capital. His mother would have his head, surely.

He could have said how much he’d miss her, how he loathes to leave her presence. 

Mention that he needed to kiss her frame every couple minutes or an itch would invade his mind. 

But he didn’t. 

He simply turned away, faced towards the erdflowers displayed upon their walkway. 

“Lock the door.” His armor clattered with each step he took, swaying with good measure. Not tearing her eyes off the tall knight she smiled.

“I love you!” She called out 

The man’s steps faltered. His head dipped with shame before he decided to look over one last time. 

“And I you,” turning his head one yellow iris glanced upon her form, before disappearing into the trees. 

- 

That was two nights ago. She had been so anxious waiting, it nearly slipped her mind. 

She found little jobs here and there to occupy the time. 

Clean the floors, dust the walkway, water the plants that littered about the garden. 

Her hands kept busy so her mind could rest. It hadn’t even occurred that Messmer was late. 

Backing up from the door, her back bumped into an object- a person? 

Dirtied hands rose to cover her mouth, a muffled cry pressed against the trespasser. 

“Shhh, shh girl.” The man bent down, saffron colored teeth grazed her ear and the smell of something rotten hit her senses. 

“The man of the keep. Where is he?” The voice was gruff, she tried to place it- to remember who could hold such a hostile tone but nothing came. Her form shook as the grip tightened around her face, squeezing at her cheeks. After nothing but silence, one hand came around to press itself onto her stomach. 

“Oi love, don’t make me hurt you,” the barbarian teased, his lips still on the shell of her ear. 

“Mmmh- mm!”

“What was- oh… my apologies lovely,” laughing to himself the hand was removed from the womans mouth, a gasp of air was taken almost immediately. 

“He's, he’s not here.” Grabbing at her cheeks she rubbed them, soothingly trying to ease the sore red spots easing their way onto her skin. 

“You're lying.” He spat, already flexing his other hand that leered against the wall. 

“I'm not!”

The hand tightened around her stomach, with an unexpected shove the girl crashed onto the wood beneath her. Skin blisters around each knee in response, and her chin bled lightly against the scratchy surface.

The barbarian lay on top of her now, with an arm holding each of hers. The other hand began flexing in the hair of her head, pulling it back with a smug grin. 

“Lie again.”

Scowling against the pressure her eyes squeezed shut. 

Think, think, think!

Don't let him take you, don't let him- 

A jingle rang out. All heads snapped towards the front door, where the knob jiggled and wobbled against a strength. 

Not liking the newfound company, the tyrant stood quick, and with a pull began to drag the woman towards the back garden.

Blood from her chin seeped out imminently, it left a trail of maroon to be displayed against the surrounding brown.

“Stop!” Her nails dug into the ground, cracking against the material roughly. 

“Shut it!” Tugging harder he kicked the woman who began to resist, she cried out in response.

Loud, too loud.

The man glanced up, his eyes widened with fear and static crawled up his legs and arms. 

The lock lay busted, hanging on by a thread. It swung loudly, creaked with each shift it took. 

Reddened armor bursted across his vision, and he noticed, with much disappointment, that the man of the keep was a knight. 

The Flame Knight. 

“I-I,

“An intruder?” Messmer questioned, although it sounded more so like a statement.  His head tilted slightly towards the opposing man's direction. His gaze lowered, to see his little woman stare back at him. 

The blood was noticed first, then the marks. 

Until finally, his eyes squinted at the filthy hands lying about her like a casual occurrence. 

Messmers hands gripped tightly upon his spear, until blue veins popped out in rage, until the jagged metal dug into his skin. 

“Wife,” The flame called out. 

The girl in response looked upon him, shame embedded into her features. 

“Look away.”

And so she did. Her arms covered her ears pathetically to drown out the screaming, the crying that only seemed to get louder with each gushing blow. 

She heard the blood hit the ground, like spilling a mug of honeydew, it was heavy, unpleasant. 

Until finally, silence. 

It was only moments later that a light touch skirted across her back. Craning her head up, she saw her husband; on his knees in front of her. He looked angry, hateful even.  

Her bottom lip wobbled as tears spewed from her lashes, lazily adorning her cheeks and plopping onto her already ruined nightgown. 

The knight did not hesitate to lean over and grab her, shoving the woman onto his lap carefully before bumping his nose on her neck. 

Inhaling, the man could once again feel himself coming down for the second time that night. The anger slowly dissipated with each breath of honey and flowers that clung to his wifes skin.

“Welcome home, my love,” she whispered, voice weak and tired from the prior endeavors. Already she wanted bed, to rest until her husband kissed each bruise away. 

Messmer hummed and stood with the smaller woman in his grasp, already on his way to rest for the night. 

Not bothering to step over the body littering his living room his boot collided with a limb, it squelched with the action. 

With now bloody strides, Messmer took his time up the stairs, with each step closer to the bedroom his head ducked down, laying a kiss upon the girl's forehead. 

Already, she began to forget about the trespasser, the blood that lay staining the floorboards. 

For each kiss was so warm- so loving, it was hard to think of anything else.

[urfavleo777]

warnings: oral (f&m receiving), mommy kink, smut, smut, smut.

in which colby is afraid of thunderstorms and y/n is trying her best to help him relieve stress.

With a quiet sigh, you walked away from the desk where you had spent the last two hours, wasting the evening to watch a movie with the love of your life.

As you pulled up your chair and turned on your heel, your attention was caught by Colby with his head on the pillow. With his eyes closed and his raven hair creating a mess on his head, he had probably drifted off to sleep long ago. He was breathing steadily, and his presence didn't draw any attention to him at all. You smiled, staring at the image of the man you loved, and after a while you felt sorry. You promised him that you would spend the evening together, but you were more absorbed in your studies than you expected.

You took an empty spot on the bed and moved closer to him as quietly as possible so as not to wake him from his sleep. You carefully examined the features of his perfectly sculpted face. A pair of ocean eyes, a sharp and pointed noise, a strong and defined jaw, and carnation pink lips-those were the words that could describe him. From a third-person point of view, you could be perceived as a damn stalker. You refrained from kissing his slightly parted lips. Instead, you lifted your hand and caressed his face gently before running it through his hair.

The rain gently bounced onto the rooftop and the wind gently swayed the trees surrounding your home, creating some sort of a whistle sound as you laid in Colby's arms. Though you enjoyed the sounds of the storm outside, you knew it would only be a matter of time before your boy would wake up from the noise he always feared.

You rolled over towards your boyfriend and laid your head on his chest and threw your leg across his waist. You felt him run his hand up your thigh and stop right below your butt.

Colby shifted, taking a deep breath. You smiled at the sight of his dreamy, half-sleep face. Maybe he still felt like he was in a dream.

You removed your hand from his hair. A small look of dissatisfaction crossed his face. You heard the wind howling outside and the loud crack of thunder.

"Y/n?" He called out, as the wind got louder. "Don't stop, please." He purred with eyes closed, his voice more adorable than ever.

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you up." You whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"It's okay," he mumbled as he turned to face you. "I missed you."

"Baby, I was right there." You laughed, going back to stroking his hair, which relieved his stress from loud sounds outside.

"I know, but you were busy studying. I'm sorry I fell asleep. I hate storms so much." His voice was deeper than normal, and God, it sounded so good on him. You placed a kiss on his bare chest and he rolled over so he was on top of you.

Another sound of thunder, louder than usual, made Colby flinch. He immediately buried his head in your neck and you grabbed his waist, bringing him as close to you as possible.

"My poor little boy is afraid of thunderstorms. Need someone to relax?"

"Yes, you." He nodded, continuing to caress you.

His kisses traveled down to your jawline where he placed kisses along it. His hands found their way to the bottom of your nightgown. Well, it wasn't really yours, more like his shirt that you now had to wear. You know he loves seeing you in his shirts, so you wear them to bed all the time.

He scrunched up the fabric until it reached right below your bare breasts. He placed lazy open mouth kisses along your stomach until he reached the top of your underwear. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs. "I've barely touched you and you're already so wet" he said smirking at you. His voice was still pretty deep and groggy and you loved it. "You like that?" you asked, and he nodded hazily. "Good, 'm gonna fuck your mouth with it, love".

He kissed the inside of your thighs, making you moan. He took that as a cue and licked all the way to the tip. He started swirling his tongue around your clit, making you moan. You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair. He moved down and inserted his tongue into your entrance.

You weren't usually a vocal person, but it had been so long since you and Colby had done something together and it felt so good. He removed his tongue but quickly replaced it with his fingers and began to slide your tongue in and out. He moved up and pressed his lips against yours.

"What do you need me to do, hm?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. He began to kiss you again and you could feel his hard clothed member press against your bare thigh.

"Need you t'fuck me, mommy," Colby said obediently, sniffling as he looked back at you from his position. His pretty face was tear streaked, and his eyes were shiny with tears as he cried for you. "I've been so good, please," he begged shamelessly, his lip quivering. Colby's mind was focused solely on you, how pretty you were, how your touch felt.

He had wanted you for so long. And now he had you.

"On your back," you demanded softly, toppling him onto the broad back, "I want to taste you."

"If you do that, I’m afraid I won’t last." His breathing was coming out in ragged pants as you slid between his spread thighs. Colby watched with rapt attention, enjoying how your breasts swayed as you moved to lay flat on your belly.

"That’s alright," you assured, tongue darting out to lap at the seam beneath the head. And he moaned, such glorious music cutting straight to your core. What a symphony every groan and whimper was, even as you continued to tease with short licks and kisses. "I want you to come undone in my mouth."

"Get on with it, please." His hips thrust upwards, tip pressing past the barrier of your lips before you complied with his wishes. Hollowing your cheeks, you sank upon all that could be fit into your mouth as a warm fist enveloped the rest. His heady musk invaded your senses, cock twitching on your tongue, practically begging you to move. "Oh, fuck."

Colby’s deep bellow had been enough to spur you into a fervor, bobbing hungrily as his back arched off the mattress. Lithe fingers knotted in your hair, holding you still as he began to frantically fuck your throat. Pumping, striving, chasing that release while he imagined you bouncing atop him. He felt like he was on fire.

"I love you," he muttered between ragged breathing as you struggled to breathe out of your nose. "I love you so much, mommy."

Then the dam broke as he came down your throat, twitching and spasming until he was still against your tongue. Swallowing all of the seed that was earned, you broke away and began to clean his softening length before snaking up to curl upon that delightfully broad chest. "Good boy."

[captain039]

Daddy’s Little Girl

Logan x reader

Warnings: Age gap (early twenties reader) , swearing, first times, virgin reader, plus size reader, tension, oral f receiving, smut, daddy kink, dom!logan, Abuse, verbal and mental (Not from Logan), anxiety, depression, mention of self harm scars, reader has muscle issues and body pain

Kinda hitting home with personal:specific details for reader, but alas I need this man, I need this man bad 😂

Wolverine in the mountains as a Lumberjack is a wet dream

Set when Logan was in the mountains but modern day times

You awake to a loud knock and a grumbled hurry up making you sigh. You check your phone finding no overly important messages. You’re expecting a call from your sister this week sometime though. You miss her, she was Lucky enough to get out of this hell hole while she could. You dress quickly knowing your father will get pissed if he doesn’t see you in the truck in five minutes. You get your jeans on and a shirt before grabbing your boots and phone. You go down the stairs slowly, ignoring the way your hips protests. You grab a banana and shove your boots on before heading to the truck. Your dad waits, smoking in the drivers seat making you sigh silently inside as you jump into the passenger seat. Everyday he drags you out to the lumber mill, everyday he doesn’t give a damn if you need to see a doctor or therapist. Doesn’t care that he’s seen scars on your arms or that you cry most nights. You pretty much run this lumber mill even if your dads the boss, you keep track of the finances, locations, next sights, shipments whatever needs done that he can’t be bothered to do, all he does is swing an axe and let his anger out. Only good thing is Logan. Logan the man you crush on since he first started couple years ago. His perfect hair and smile, those jeans and leather jacket, the way he carry’s himself. His kindness towards you, the stupid hair ruffle he gives even though he knows you hate it, the making sure you’ve eaten during the day or asking if you need help. He’s too perfect, a goddamn dream and you’re a nightmare.

You head into the small trailer office and sit down rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your father greets his team. He smiles shakes hands and laughs making you loath him. You want to punch him, show them how pissed he gets and how fucking useless he is. You sag against the chair waiting for Logan to show up in his two seater low truck with that handsome face. You hate yourself, lusting after man twice your age, probably married or has plenty suitors. Ones that aren’t broken like you. You clench your jaw and unlock the computer cursing the slow wifi as you go through emails. It’s the same old and you’re bored of it, hell you don’t even get paid to be here your father says his house and his food are payment enough, not like you’re his kid or anything. You watch your dad and his team leave silently thanking god. Though a little upset you missed Logan. A knock comes at the door and you frown a bit.

“Come in” you call watching the door open. Logan steps in a smile on his face as he closes the door.

“Morning Bub” he says and you smile.

“Morning” you reply as he sighs and sits down on the small couch.

“Why aren’t you with the team?” You ask with a frown.

“We need supplies, your father told me to head into town” he said and you sigh, of course he did, too lazy to go himself.

“Wanna come?” Logan asks and you falter.

“Oh, yeah sure hang on” you quickly finish writing the email before logging off and shutting the computer down. You follow him out the trailer and to his car he smiles playfully as he holds open the door for you which you just laugh at and ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

You try not to glance at him every five seconds as he drives. How someone can be attractive while driving you’ll never know. It’s about an hours drive into town, the silence comfortable. You look out the window letting the wind blow in your face. Your phone buzzes and you frown taking it out seeing a message from your father.

We need more courier trucks this time, don’t forget

You huff softly, how could you forget he’s yelled it to you for the last couple of days.

“Everything alright?” Logan asks jolting you from your mind and you force a smile and nod.

“Just dad” you shrug switching off your phone and putting it back in your pocket. You finally arrive at the store following Logan inside.

“What we need?” You ask as Logan pulls a list from his pocket.

“Rope, saw blade replacers, chain, sharpener stones, beer” Logan smiles at the last part and you try to smile back. Beer always equals your father coming home shit faced and blaming it on you like you’re the one who got him drunk. You grab a trolly each and head down each aisle to get what you need before heading to the register. You scan the items watching the numbers go up and know you’ll probably get blamed for the prices too. Once you’re done Logan grabs his wallet and pulls out the company card before tapping and paying. You enjoy his closeness smell the cologne he’s got on this close too. You wait for the receipt before heading back to the Ute. You make one more stop to the liquor store before heading home.

You’re not even half way home when your phone rings. With your dad’s name flashing, you wince a little and answer.

“Hello” you say.

“Why aren’t you answering the phone at the trailer?” He says annoyed.

“I went with Logan to get the supplies you needed” you answer.

“Jesus Christ I give you one goddamn job and you can’t even do that right! You know not to leave that goddamn trailer during work hours!” His voice is scolding and pissed and you tense and try to ignore your stomach churning.

“We’re heading back now” you muttered not getting an answer back instead your father hangs up and you feel like crying.

“You alright?” Logan asks and you force a smile and nod at him.

Back at the trailer you notice your hips beginning to ache helping carrying things from the ute back to the trailer. You wince and silently curse knowing it’ll probably either be a flare up and another reason for your dad to yell or hopefully just some daily pain that Panadol can fix. It’s always the fucking first one. You sit down behind your desk and ring back anybody who tried to contact the office while Logan works outside. You glance to him every so often seeing him push his sleeves up, wipe sweat off his brow, a whole damn strip tease. You wish you had confidence or were thinner and older maybe then he’d give you a glance. You sag into the chair wincing when your hips decided to twinge in pain.

It’s just after five when the team return, you’ve hopefully done everything today and you’re feeling it. Logan hasn’t left either only to stop on break for lunch or smoke the cigars he has. You tried to tell him they’re bad for him but he just smiled and continued. Your dad looks annoyed and you can feel the home ride scolding already.

“All done?” Logan says suddenly making you jump not realising he was in the trailer. You jolt the wrong way and let out a pain of noise that has the man instantly concerned and walking over.

“Fine, I’m fine sorry I didn’t mean to make that noise” you brush off cursing when you can’t even stand up properly.

“You don’t look fine Bub” he says quietly.

“Ready?” Your dad interrupts and you nod forcing yourself up right. You walk a little funny out the trailer and down the steps.

“Bye Logan” your dad says.

“See ya boss” he says before saying a goodbye to you with a small worried frown. You smile and wave getting into your dad’s truck awkwardly.

“What the hell did I say with leaving without my permission? I had two damn phone calls while I was out!” Your dad scolds hitting the steering wheel in annoyance making you jump. You keep your head down and on your lap making sure not to move.

“Well?!” He snaps.

“Sorry, I figured Logan would need some help with supplies” you say and your father scoffs.

“Logan needs help my ass, you’re just trying to slut yourself out to the man!” He growls and the words sting. You’ve never had a boyfriend, never spoken to another man in that way.

“Like you did with Jason” he adds. Jason was the newest addition to the team a little older than you.

“Sorry father” you mutter.

“God sakes” he grumbles. He doesn’t say anything else and when you get home you know he’ll scold you for dinner before ordering pizza and beer. You head upstairs silently feeling tears prick your eyes before you force them down.

“Can I have a shower dad?” You call.

“Five minutes! Anymore I’m breaking the goddamn water line” he yells and you wince and hurry. You set a timer knowing he won’t be joking. You wash as quickly as you can before stepping out and drying yourself. You sigh not even feeling clean or refreshed. You barely have time to shave when you shower, barely have time to wash your hair too. You dress hearing your dad talking to the pizza man no doubt before he slams the door. You say into your bed, only reason you have your furniture and room nice is because your mother was still alive at one point. You hear your phone vibrate and see Logan’s name on the screen. You had all the team’s numbers in your phone for emergencies or anything company related. Your father shamed you for that too saying you’d send each man nudes or sex texts.

Hey kid, you alright?

Fine, thank you, nothing to worry about

you type back quickly and get dressed into some pyjamas. You’re tired but no sleep won’t come well and you’ll have to eat when your dad’s either passed out or asleep. You wait a while scrolling on your phone. When your mum was alive she got you a bank account open, you had to secretly apply for a government payment grant so you could at least get a phone and credit. If your dad ever found out about the money though he’d probably close the account or take what you had. Your phone buzzes continuously and you frown seeing Logan’s name. You answer a little confused he never calls unless it’s for work.

“Hey? Did you need something?” You ask voice hushed even though the TVs turned up loudly.

“Just checking on you, you sure you’re alright kid?” You a sigh a little, that stupid nickname.

“I’m fine thank you Logan” you say a little curtly without meaning too.

“Did you need something, did I miss something at work?” You add after some silence.

“No, works fine” he sighs a little and you frown. You hear footsteps and begin to panic.

“Sorry Logan I have to go” you hear him about to speak but quickly hang up as your father’s footsteps walk past and into his room and you sigh in relief.

You lay there awake till it’s about 8, hearing loud snores before you creep down stairs to get a sandwich and water before going back up. You sigh eating on the small couch in your room glancing to your phone seeing another text from Logan.

Night kid, sleep well

Your heart jumps a little.

Next part ->

[falling-heights]

Yandere Geto x Non-sorcerer

" A r e y o u p r a y i n g a g a i n ?

H o w r a w a r e y o u r k n e e s ?

H o w o f t e n w i l l y o u r e p e n t ? "

Part 1 ▪︎ Part 2

Shackles jingled like bells on the cold stone.

Muscles trembling, the dampness of the strange, dark room clung to your skin, sticking to your hair like freshly formed dew. The rocky surface tore into your knees, ripping open the thin layers of skin. You would expect soon, if not now, the gravel floor beneath your knees would soon find itself grinding bone.

How long must it take for your body to reach that state? Months surely, maybe more. This new life, this awful life. Played upon the whims of a cruel, beautiful man.

This was absolution he said, but not your salvation. A necessity for the fact of your existence-- for your vile existence. For the sin of having been born on the wrong side of his war.

He paced around you in circles, slowly closing in on his prey. A belt slung in his hands. Occasionally the metal buckle would graze the floor, emitting an awful grating sound, more or less reminding you of what was eminent.

Hours at a time, a glorious part every day, he would come to visit, and he would force you to commit exhausting acts. The kind meant to wear at more than a person's body. In the end, he was never satisfied until you were like a weak, wounded animal.

You deserved death as much any other human, perhaps more than most. Yet for the strangest reasons, he kept you breathing, fed, alive.

If not for this man's bitter entertainment, then certainly to act as penance for you and your pathetic race.

You had been kneeling in the grit and gravel for hours now. Praying, god knows what for anymore. Your deliverance; your demise. Every muscle in your legs trembled involuntarily. They felt like nothing, like weightless twigs that burned like white-hot rods.

Your body gave out quicker tonight than most, and his hand was as swift as you had come to know. The belt swung down upon your bent back, and you cried out as the metal clasp bit into your skin, slitting it open into shallow gashes. A seething hiss escaped your grit teeth as handfuls of gravel and dirt dug into your palms. The new blood seeped into seven more fresh lashes, coating trails of coagulated blood.

It was righteous.

It was befitting.

And you deserved it just as much as any other human, but perhaps more than most. His eyes said so much more cruelty than his actions, as though it were you he hated so dearly, as though it could have only ever been you. His punishments felt personal, and in his eyes, deserved.

You were temptation incarnate, a foul reminder of his noble efforts. Kept like a token, something hated and yet sought. Something evil and yet beautiful.

He wanted done to you what he had seen done to his kind. And how little it mattered that you knew nothing of your crimes. Your ignorance could not help you.

"My, my," His voice was elevated, a gentle chord that echoed in the dim room. It mocked you with sugary sweetness. "Has the camel's back finally broken? Is this all the strength you can muster?"

He stooped down in front of your collapsed figure. A curled finger lifted your chin up gently. He tilted his head to the side as you grimaced under his scrutiny. He sighed, finally, releasing your chin and standing.

"I've grown tired of this, lately." The belt dropped to the ground with a loud thud. You tried to steady yourself and sit up, but any direction that you moved had you reeling in pain. It was like the skin your was being ripped from flesh and bone.

Confusion surfaced when he stooped to unlock your shackles. They were discarded to the side loudly, rattling your concrete cage. Visible lesions were present on both wrists, cutting deep into the raw tissue.

He paused for a moment, looking off at the wall in thought. For those

long winded seconds, as your vision wavered between black and white, it seemed as though he was miles away from that horrid, festering room.

"Do you have any idea why I do this to you, come dusk until dawn?" His voice was distant, quiet even. Though he was always quiet, this was distinctively different from what, you had come to know. No snide remarks, no slightly patronizing tone in the way he lectured you.

He looked to you then for a moment, dark eyes connecting with yours. They seemed tired, exhausted even. "I can imagine a singular question that must be racing through your mind at every waking moment."

Geto, as you had come to know him, stepped towards you, seemingly breaking out of his stupor. His eyes gleamed with sadistic amusement. His foot came in contact with your shoulder, shoving you onto your back.

You cried out as stones cut into your raw flesh. His foot pressed down more harsh, to the point you thought your shoulder might pop out of it's socket. He smiled down at you, at your helplessness.

Somehow, there were always moments that seemed innocent in the wake of everything else. Nights in which he would stumble into your dark, damp dungeon unbelievably drunk. Mind too far gone to remember what you really were. He would stumble, he would crawl, he would worship you like a goddess.

In a strange way, it almost felt like he cared for you in a desperate sort of way. Nights like this were like an open view into an entirely new person. This man, in a drunken, sickly state, would almost coddle you. There were night he would come and act as though the two of you were a married couple. Other times, he might be possessive, babbling somewhat incoherently. About things you never understood but knew had everything to do with you.

He was sweet then. And you felt a fool for almost hoping for it. Hoping for a sense of something familiar, something comforting. Something that didn't break your skin or bones and leave you marred with scars.

This was not one of those nights.

A sigh of relief passed your cracked lips when he finally lifted his foot. However, the weight was multiplied tenfold when he straddled your waist.

Your breath caught in your throat, panic overweighing any sort of pain as adrenaline began surging in your veins. He quickly put an end to your struggles, pinning your arms down.

"Why don't you enlighten us both with that question?" His eyes fixed on your other features, wrapping a loose strand of hair around his fingers, almost absentmindedly. It took you longer to process his question than he liked because he ceased his toying with your hair to grab your face firmly, scrunching your cheeks together. "Do you need a hint, dearest? Let me start it for you: 'Why...?'"

"Why me?" You whispered. He smiled proudly, releasing your face to caress your jaw with his thumb. It took what little of what was left of your will to keep a steady voice. But you could not stop the tears from collecting in your eyes. You asked him again through blurry vision. "Why did you choose me?"

Your body froze when you looked into his eyes. Dark and calm, like two black stones in dead, unmoving water. And yet, within their vacant depths sparked a tidal wave of emotion. Hatred was the most obvious.

But beneath it, there was something more volatile. If you had been any more of a fool, you would have thought it to be an innate, almost wild passion, a kind that you were not familiar with.

As his face inched closer to yours, it seemed as though his intentions

transformed from violent to something you feared far more.

He suddenly stopped. Something shifted in his eyes, as though remembering something. His face soured in response, nose wrinkling slightly as he pulled away slowly.

"Perhaps it would be a kind mercy to just kill you." He lifted himself off of you, silently brushing himself off and readjusting his clothes.

Your heart left in your chest like a caged bird crying for freedom.

"But I have not made progress by being merciful," He said in a curt manner. Geto's eyes studied you like a dissected specimen. His eyes trailed off briefly, a sense of determination hardening his gaze. "And I believe I am close to a solution."

Solution? What the hell is he talking about?

"Forgive me for getting ahead of myself." His voice was distant, almost rehearsed. There was air of false sweetness about it, in his words and his smile. He was back to his expected self it seemed. "You haven't any idea to the truth of your situation, not at all..."

He was staring at you vacantly, more as though he were staring through you. A small chuckle left his throat and he sighed. "Well, no matter. You will know soon enough."

All he offered your pain was a smile, perfectly still and anything but comforting. There was purpose behind everything he did, and you never had so much as a hint as to what was festering within his mind.

He left you to agonize in your torment, though knowing that he would be seeing you again soon enough.

didn't really proof this, pls let me know if you see any issues! there may be a part two for this if you guys like it <3

[eashn]

hq | how they jack off

with kuroo, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, saeko, and kageyama.

summary: hq characters and their masturbation habits

warnings: NSFW content, fem!reader, male and female masturbation, mentions of rough sex, mentions of oral sex (male and female receiving), phone sex, anal play, bruising, light dom/sub dynamics here and there, many many mentions of tits and ass, mention of fingering

A/N - i rewatched haikyuu and these fuckers starting screwing around in my brain again like they owned the place so here’s what came of that. happy reading, expect more of this crap soon lmao

Kuroo Tetsurō

filthy with it

needs his hand slick—with lube, lotion, spit. whatever’s closest.

he’s rough. rubs himself ragged and sweats through his sheets

grunts and groans, mutters your name here and there

usually goes multiple rounds

That’s it—fuck, baby,” Kuroo rasped, pumping his length in his cum-coated fingers. He’d already finished twice to the thought of his cock in your pretty mouth.

His sheets were damp beneath him and the salty tang of sweat clouded the air, but he didn’t give a damn. All he could think about was you. Your deft hands. Your lips, slick with drool. Your glassy eyes staring up at him as he fucked his cockhead down your throat. He groaned at the image, tightening his sticky fingers around his shaft. 

“Like that,” he muttered, wishing it was really you. Because despite the lewd glide of his palm, the puddles of cum crusting on his abdomen, this was nowhere as obscene as the real thing: your wanton whines and moans, the filthy sound of skin slapping skin. God, he wanted to mess you up—make you feel just as dirty as he felt right now. No matter how many times he’d already seen it, he craved to watch you fall apart beneath him again. 

Bokuto Kōtarō

desperate

god, bokuto doesn’t even like masturbating—the feeling’s nowhere near what it’s like to be with you 

but when bokuto needs it, he needs it bad

he’s loud: gasping moans and vulgar, noisy thrusts into his palm

fists his sheets as if he’s grabbing at your skin

He hated that he was doing it—it felt wrong, felt like betrayal. He didn’t want anyone but you to make him feel good. Fuck, it wasn’t like his hand felt nearly as good as the tight grip of your cunt anyways.

But he couldn’t help it, could he? Not after he’d seen that cute little selfie you sent him. 

He whined, squeezing his cock in one hand and his phone in the other as he stared at picture—at your soft, pretty smile and flushed cheeks, and lower…the white tank you’d chosen to wear for the day’s heat. It was just slightly damp at the collar; beads of sweat pooled in the hollow of your throat. He’d twitched in his pants when he caught that, images of you slick and sweaty beneath him clouding his mind. “Darlin’,” he moaned when he noticed the way the shirt hugged your tits. Shit, he wanted—no, needed that body in his hands, that body he called absolutely perfect no matter how much you disagreed. His fingers slid up and down his shaft, faster and faster, as he squeezed his eyes shut and imagined bucking up into you. He wanted those perky tits bouncing in front of his face, your needy whines filling his ears, your grabby hands winding their way into his hair—

“Fuck,” he breathed, halting his motions and staring at the phone in his hand. He had an idea. 

And before he knew it, Bokuto was hitting the Video Call button and positioning himself in front of the camera. 

Oikawa Tōru

usually a bitchy top, oikawa gets so subby when you’re not around 

he knows you like being tossed around, so he’s always given you that—happily so

but tōru’s never met your dominant side, the one that’d love to replace the desperate fingers he’s got in his ass with a nice, meaty strap-on

or ride his cock till he was begging you to stop

so he keeps those fantasies a secret for now. 

but, oh, he’s a slutty mfer. edges himself and whines your name. dirty talks into his pillow like he’s being filmed

“Please—please, baby, wanna cum—fuck, please let me cum—” 

On his elbows and knees, Oikawa shoved his face into the mattress, bucking his hips into his hand. Drool dribbled from his parted lips as he fucked his fist, imagining it was you. His back arched beautifully—if you were there, you’d have a perfect view of the little buttplug in his ass. 

“Need…you,” he whimpered, wiping the drool with his other hand. “Need that cunt—please.” God, he sounded like a bitch. He wanted you to say so, to degrade him like the whore he knew he was. “Aw, Tōru. You’re a dirty thing, aren’t you.”  He keened, imagining that kind of filth tumble from your rosy lips. And, burying his face back into his sheets, Oikawa came.

Iwaizumi Hajime

big BURLY man but he looks so pretty spread out on his couch, thick cock in hand

usually ends up doing it after working out; the testosterone’s flowing and all that 

a groaner. dark and low, iwa growls your name

flips through dirty pics of you on his phone while doing it

uses spit as lube. he’s a frugal man—doesn’t like spending money on something nice when something shitty does the job

spit’s quicker anyway. he’s eager when he needs release.

It was all he could think of the minute he got home from the gym: your pert little ass in front of him as he pounded into you from behind. God, he was pervy. He was disgusting for wanting you like this, every goddamn time after a good lift. 

But, fucking hell. He needed to cum. 

Dumping his bag on the floor, yanking out his phone, Iwa slumped down onto the couch—not even making it to his bedroom. In seconds, his cock was in his hand and his phone was open to the photos you’d taken the last time you fucked. You: in doggy, his seed smeared across your asscheeks and leaking from your hole. His handprints and his hickies all over your skin. 

“Pretty girl,” Iwa snarled, tilting his head back and thumbing the precum dribbling from his tip. He spat obscenely in one hand, grasping his shaft and pumping it up and down, up and down, nice and slow. 

“That’s it, babygirl,” he groaned, seeing your bare skin behind squeezed-shut eyes, envisioning himself groping your flesh. “Take it—fuck—take it all.”

Tanaka Saeko

fuck me up mama

LOUD by nature—she’s grunty and whiny, she groans and she gasps. 

buries her face in her pillowcase to keep it quiet 

used to invest generously in lube, but fuck, she doesn’t need it anymore. she gets wet enough at the thought of you: slick and pliant beneath her

sends you dirty audio recordings sometimes, of herself saying all the scummy, kinky things she knows get you going 

“Oh, darling I wanna taste that cunt again,” Saeko growled into her phone, hoping the mic picked up the lewd sound of her fingers at work in the gaps between the words. She was going at it—slipping them in and out, rubbing her puffy clit, whining at the feeling. 

“Fuck, I miss you,” she panted, “Miss havin’ you on my tongue.” She was babbling now—groaning nonsense about all the filthy things she wanted to do to you. “Wanna leave my mark all over you, sweet girl—hickies on your thighs, on those tits—fuck.” 

She whimpered, the image of your perfect breasts swimming behind her eyes. She remembered the last time you’d been intimate together: the dark, red and purple splotches she’d left all over your chest, your neck, your waist. Saeko knew they wouldn’t have faded yet. You were still walking around, marred with the evidence of her. She clenched around her fingers at the thought. “God, wanna…ruin you, babe,” she whined, picking up her pace. “Need everyone to know…you’re mine.”

Kageyama Tobio

ashamed of the act. does it in the shower to feel less gross

since meeting you, kageyama’s far better about communicating his needs: sexual or otherwise. but years of repression are hard to unlearn, and he reverts to his old ways sometimes. his masturbation habits are a prime example of this 

he’s terrified of asking you for too much. it feels wrong to want you as much as he does—as often as he does. he’s convinced you’ll think him perverted if he admits to it

so he settles for fixing his problems himself, under warm water and in clench-jawed silence

bites down on a knuckle to keep his sounds at bay, but…sometimes?

sometimes, he whimpers. 

The water was tepid, but liquid heat was bleeding through Kageyama’s veins. He squeezed his length in one soapy hand, gliding his fingers up and down . His other hand was clasped prettily over his mouth. 

Because he couldn’t let you hear him.

You were right outside the bathroom—stretched out lazily on his bed, reading something on your computer. God, you hadn’t been trying to seduce him, he knew that. But seeing you in those plush little lounge shorts, in that tight, worn t-shirt that hugged your braless tits…oh, fuck. He’d mumbled something about needing to shower and then ran the hell out of there. 

And now: he felt so depraved. Sudsy water streamed down his tense muscles as he worked his cock, rutting his hips into his hand. He shouldn’t want you like this; you were clever and soft and you deserved more than the vulgar way he kept groaning your name. “Baby,” he whined softly, envisioning the gentle curve of your breasts in that godforsaken shirt. He wanted to tear the damn thing off you, grab each tit in his hands, tweak your pert nipples, and bury his face right in between—

“Fuck,” he mewled. Loudly. 

“Tobio?” your voice called from the other room. 

Shit, Kageyama thought. Shit, shit, shit. But it was fine, right? You were locked out of the bathroom. You couldn’t see him like this.  

But then, in horror, Kageyama watched the doorknob turn. His blood ran cold as he realized: he’d forgotten to lock the door. 

thank you so much for reading!

requests for more hikayuu headcannons/drabbles are officially OPEN! please drop by with your ideas and follow @eashn for more :)

[instant-delusions]

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹"Limitless"◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

wind pillar || shinazugawa sanemi × f! reader

cw! : typical sanemi behavior , smut : degradation, unprotected sex

a/n : people are calling characters 'lana del rey' coded, 'melanie martinez' coded - sanemi's fucking pink guy coded.

✧༺ 　　༻∞

'fuck this job' , you think while scrubbing away blood that has been splattered on the wind hashira's estate during yet another brutal training session. a kakushi, such as yourself, is hardly getting paid enough to do this.

'at least sanemi's not here' . obviously, his scary demeanor is well known throughout the demon slayer corps and the stress of being yelled at is something you'll gladly do without, even if the person yelling is as hot as he is. well, it's no secret - the open uniform showing his abs, the dominating aura, his voice, even the scars on his body are more than enough to have you daydreaming filthy things while he mercilessly attacks lower ranks.

you throw the now bloody rag into a basket with other cleaning utensils and make your way inside, looking for the room you got the tools from. the estate was huge, showing you once again that the checks both of you get are miles apart. sliding shoji after shoji open, you thank god once again for sanemi not being home. after around five minutes you decide to just put it somewhere and head home, dreamily thinking of the sake on your nightstand.

"fucking slacking off?" you squeal in shock as a nightmare became true. sanemi's leaning against one of the walls with a raised eyebrow - crazy, you didn't even hear his steps. "of course not, sir! I'm just unsure - where do you want me to put these?". thank god your voice didn't betray you, usually you would've shat yourself by now. the wind pillar glances at the utensils in your hand and looks right back at you, he's definitely mad, completely having read through your laziness. "I fucking hate people like you. you're working for me, know your place." quickly, he stepped towards you, ripping the basket from your hands and throwing it across the room.

'fuck, he's obviously had a bad day.' you flinched as the basket made contact with the wooden floor, hands shaking with anxiety. 'he won't hurt me, right?' . he stared down at you furiously, clicking his tongue - "won't even talk, huh? are you that much of a bitch?". lord, his words sting but you're way too tired for this, it's been fifteen hours. "sorry. I didn't think it mattered, really. won't happen again." you answered, realizing that your tone must've sounded way too half-assed. you started to bow, but the next second your were pressed against the floor with his hand around your neck, realizing what just happened you tried to squirm out of his hold.

"you're such a fucking brat, can't even do the simplest job." he leaned down, his breath fanning against your ear. "I think it's time someone put you in your place." sanemi whispered. his voice is raspy, low and it sends shocks down your body, straight to your pussy. fuck, you're scared but also in the process of being absolutely turned on - in a pathetic attempt to struggle, you kick your legs, though he immediately presses his body down to trap you, sliding a leg between yours. dangerously close to your core.

the hashira licks a stripe from your ear down to where your uniform begins, and starts undoing the buttons of your top. "w-wait!" you choke out with a beet-red face, uselessy grabbing at the fabric of his clothes. "shut the fuck up. my day's been shit, i need me some pussy to calm down. you can do at least one job right, bitch." he speaks harshly, but the words light a fire in you, the way he talks to you, it's way too hot . the last button of your top comes undone and sanemi throws it away carelessly, pressing two fingers against your clothed cunt and lapping at your boobs immediately. you moan out loud and grind your body against his - damn, you've heard he's hot-headed, but diving straight in like this? you waste no time in undoing his belt, and pushing his pants down. sanemi sits back on his knees and pulls his boxers and pants down enough to free his massive cock.

"how's that gonna fit?" you ask him unsure, in response he laughs out and pushes your skirt down. with his fingers he pulls your panties to the side and inserts one, moving his thumb in circular motions against your clit. "imma make it fit." he answers, your loud moans almost drowning out his voice. the wet noises of your pussy echo in the room as he begins to scissor into you. "fuck, your pussy's drooling over my fingers, straight onto the floor. aren't you embarrassed, you whore?" he punctures his words with another finger and you arch your back of the floor, mewling and whimpering at his brutal pace. " 'm coming, shinazugawa-san!" you shout, teary-eyed, but the hashira immediately redacts his fingers, holding them to his mouth and licking them clean - what a lewd sight. you huff in a disappointed manner, which makes the pillar smile for a split second. cute. "sanemi." he corrects - "you're gonna cum on my cock."

you look down to his dick and see it pulsing, veiny, girthy and long. a drop of pre cum sliding down its side. "like what you see?" he smirks, obviously, he caught you staring. you nod shyly and he slaps your cheek. "use your words, slut." looking up into his eyes, you lick your lips and say; "...want your cock, sanemi." that definitely made something snap in him. a fat drop of spit landed on his dick, which he smeared all over. with a strong grip on his cock, he slid it through your folds slowly, the head nudging your clit, until he finally decided to push in.

both of you moaned at the tight fit - "fuck, you got a virgin pussy, (y/n)." the way his cock stretched you into oblivion didn't make the use of your name go unnoticed. "you..." a loud moan erupted from your throat - "know my name?". sanemi pushed against your cervix, filling you to the absolute brim. "of course, stupid." he rasped, letting you adjust to his size. after a while, you wiggled your hips slightly, signaling him to move, which he definitely didn't need to hear twice. sanemi pulled his cock out almost all the way and pushed it back in, which made you scream so loudly, he caught your lips in a messy kiss. "what the fuck, you want muzan to hear us?" he spat, picking up his speed. his balls lewdly clapped against your asscheeks and the sound filled the room. you could feel a string of your wetness connect them and threw your legs around his waist, bringing him closer. "fuck...pretty girl can't get enough of me, huh? cock drunk already?". you trashed around, a drooling, moaning mess and sanemi swears it's one of the hottest views he's ever seen. connecting your lips once again, he goes even faster, surely bruising the back of your thighs. "sanemi...oh my god, cumming! cumming!" you threw your head back, spasming around him, trying to milk his cock. he moans loudly at the tightness.

with a few more thrusts, he spills deep inside you, painting your walls white with his thick cum. sanemi pulls out with a sinful squelch and fingers the sperm that's threatening to spill out inside of you. like the gentleman he is, the man cleans you up and carries you to his futon. at this point, your shift has been 16 hours long and you can't wait to snuggle and sleep.

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 3 (Hate Sex)

Kevin Moskowitz (The Deep) x Reader (NSFW)

(900 words)

Summary: You hate fuck The Deep

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, rough sex, a little bit of biting, hair pulling, degradation, penetrative sex, hate sex (duh)

Notes: I hate him so he was the perfect choice for this one LMAO anyway I think I kinda slayed with this one, I’m proud of it. Enjoy the fic!!!

-

“Jesus, you are so fucking stupid,” you scoff, pushing Kevin onto the chair. He flinches as he hits the back of it, truly a pathetic sight. “A dolphin? The fuck is wrong with you, you fucking idiot?”

After Stillwell held a meeting this morning about covering up The Deep’s dolphin-train track fiasco, you knew this was the final straw with your shitty job at Vought, especially with The Deep. Not only was he a grade-A douchebag, but also completely moronic, which often caused you two to butt heads on numerous occasions regarding his behavior behind the scenes. This afternoon when you dragged him into an empty office, you took your chance to reprimand him- personally.

“Fuck you, I was doing the right thing!” He rubs the back of his neck, “I’m part of The Seven, it’s my job to save people AND my ocean friends, without me, you wouldn’t even have a fucking job, so don’t you dare tell me what to do you stuck up, little-”

Trying to get himself back to his feet, you push him down again, this time straddling him to keep him down. You can feel the heat of his erection pressing into you. You feel it, and he absolutely can feel it too.

You look down at him with disbelief, “You’ve gotta be joking.”

His dropped jaw momentarily comes back up. He snaps his eyes up to you. “Okay, but you’re the one straddling me here.”

For as stupid as The Deep was, he actually had a point here. Of course, you couldn’t let him know that. Without thinking, you plant a rough kiss on his lips and making sure to bite his lip when you pulled away. Letting out a pained yelp, he comes back to his senses. The Deep grips your hips tightly, painfully almost, keeping you pinned to his lap as your mouth moves down to ravage his neck.

“Y-yeah, nothing to say now, do you? You fucking sl-“

“Finish that sentence and I swear I’ll make what happened to your little dolphin friend look like a fucking joke,” you grit out, your hand flies up to take his chin between your fingers. Not wanting Kevin to get the upper hand on you, you start grinding against his erection. This seems to shut him up perfectly. Seeing him like this was driving you wild. Sure, you hate his fucking guts, but God, if it isn’t hot seeing him under you like this. Your arousal continues to spike. Not wanting to waste any more time, you ease off of him, undoing his belt quickly and pulling out his hardened cock.

Now you understand why The Deep was so incredibly arrogant when he had no reason to be. His cock was huge, it would inflate anyone’s ego.

“Like what you see?” Kevin says loftily.

“Well,” you sigh, “at least you’re good for one thing.” Pulling out a condom from a nearby drawer, you tear off the wrapper, rolling the rubber onto his cock. “Wouldn’t want to leave any traces, or else it’s both our jobs on the line.”

Rolling his eyes, Kevin grips your thighs as he slips into you roughly. You wince at his intrusion, so you decide to retaliate by yanking a fistful if his hair. Kevin lets out a loud and completely shameless whine. Barking out a cruel chuckle, your pace against him is fast and hard, wanting to get yourself off as soon as possible.

“G-God you’re pathetic,” you huff. “You think… you’re h-hot shit?” You ask, continuing to slam yourself down on his massive cock. “No, y-you just whine, and beg, and c-cry like a girl, wanting me… to fuck you.”

Letting a harsh moan escape from your lips as you spout your degradation, Kevin’s hand winds up in your hair, taking revenge from earlier. You hold in a grunt, refusing to give him any satisfaction of the fact that what he’s doing to you is making you extremely turned on.

“F-fuck off, I know… you like this,” he groans, “…just as much as I do.” Kevin bucks into you harder, making your knees shake ever so slightly. You can feel yourself getting close. The chair below you two seems to wobble a little.

Not wanting to be around him any longer, your eyes slam shut as you ride him out furiously, chasing after your release.

Kevin grips the arm of the chair and your hip, attempting to steady himself at your quickened pace. “There you g-go…” he chides breathlessly, “Fucking yourself on me like… like the w-whore you are-”

“S-shut…” you grab the back of his chair. “The fuck…” your hand wraps around Kevin’s throat, you pump yourself onto him as much as you can. Your grit out the last word with a harsh, ragged gasp and you feel your orgasm tear through you. “Up.”

With the ferocity of your climax, Kevin nears his peak as well. But, by the time he comes, you are already off of him, straightening out your clothes and hair. He looks over to you, who is now already walking out the door.

“Don’t forget to clean yourself up,” you toss a small box of tissues over to where he’s sitting which he pathetically tries, and fails to catch. Before leaving, you glare at him icily. “You speak a word of what happened here, and your funeral will be next after Translucent’s.”