#no plot

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

enter sandman - m. murdock

a/n: see me personally? never seeing the pearly gates. never ever. not after this one . enjoy. feedback always appreciated ! <3 warnings: guys... where do i fucking start. SMUT. SMUT!!!! GRAPHIC PORN!!!! no plot!!!! degradation!!! dumbification!!!! praise!!!! oral!!! (m recieving) cursing!!!! nicknames!!!! reader is female and has female parts and she/her pronouns!!!!! matt is cocky, mean!dom!matt, the ending is kind of cute, lots of inappropriate use of matts senses, uhhh guys let me know if i missed any because... wow. word count: 4.2k summary: you have a hard time sleeping. the devil has a few games in mind to tire you out. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: enter sandman - metallica "exit light/enter night/take my hand/we're off to never-never land"

You have a horrible habit. Okay, you wouldn’t really consider it to be a habit per say, but you’re not proud of it. You will for it to end.

You can never seem to fall asleep. Staying asleep is easy, but getting there is a problem. Your mind is always racing, which causes you to spiral into a whirlpool of anxieties. You’re too busy thinking about your job, or what you’ll eat tomorrow, or when you’ll be doing your next load of laundry.

But most of all, what keeps you up at night is worrying about the devil. And not in the sense that you’re a holy catholic who wants to repent for her sins, either. Your worry for the devil comes because you’re hopelessly in love with him.

And you worry that one day he will come home damaged beyond repair. Maybe one day he will not come home at all, and you’ll have to hear about it on the news the next morning. It’s a hellish existence, loving the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you make do.

Like tonight—You had baked brownies earlier in the night, and then read your book for the better part of the night. You won’t allow yourself to fall asleep because the possibility of seeing him overwhelms you. But as the hours pass, you begin to lose hope.

And just as you you’re beginning to accept that he won’t be coming to see you and you’re really letting yourself drift, you feel a warm hand on your neck. He’s taken his gloves off tonight. You consider yourself blessed.

“Hi,” You mumble softly, your brain going all fuzzy with even just that bit of contact. You’ve missed him. “Was beginning to think you’d never show.”

But your devil is in no mood for simple pleasantries tonight.

“What have I told you about waiting up for me?”

“Not to?”

“I said,” His hand moves from its gentle place against your neck to grip your chin, “As long as you leave the window open I’ll know to just come in and take what I need.”

Your face flushes, and he grins, because he can tell that he’s making you flustered.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“No one’s laughing at you, sweetheart.” He hums.

“You are.” He shrugs gently. He’s wearing his black suit tonight, and it’s making you feel… a lot of things.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Damn him.

“Nothing!”

He leans forward and kisses you softly, and you lean up to try and kiss him further, but he pulls away, his grip returning to your chin, to keep you just centimeters away. The devil is an expert at reading you, despite his lack of sight. He has developed the habit of studying you, and knows that as of late, you’re not allowing yourself the pleasure of sleeping. He knows it’s because you’re so anxious and worried about every little thing, so tonight.. He intends to fix it. Or at least, maybe come up with a temporary solution.

“Liar.” He whispers and moves away further. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me.”

Your devil is many things, but he does not bluff. He has this will of steel.

“I prefer it when you wear the black suit,” You tell him, “It’s not very protective, I know. But you look good in it.”

He makes a noise of realization, before moving his hand to slip under the hem of your shirt, resting his hand on your stomach. You shiver a bit, his hand warm against your skin. That’s what you get for wearing a tee shirt and shorts to bed every night, he’d tell you.

“That’s my smart girl.” Your heart flutters. “Mm, you really like that huh?”

“You’re awful.” You always pretend to hate how he reads you, but secretly, although you suspect he knows it, you love that someone knows you so well. He grins and his hands move again, this time picking you up into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “Hey! Not cool, we talked about picking up when we have no warning—” You cut yourself off with a grunt when he tosses you onto the bed.

“Shut up.”

He hears no objections.

Just as quickly as you’re thrown on the bed, he is above you, mask still on, kissing your neck.

“Wanna play a game, sweetheart?” He asks, hands on your hips, his fingers creeping up the hem of your shirt. You shiver again, and he just grins “You can answer.”

“Sure. I like games.” Your voice is meek, too busy enjoying all the contact with him. He hums softly.

“I know you do, and you’re just so good at them.” You grin against his skin as he kisses your cheek. “See that? That’s what I want to know.” You’re a bit lost.

“Know what?”

“I want to know what turns you on more— praising you or degrading you.”

What a fun game to play with a human lie detector.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, let’s play.” You confirm. He kisses you quickly.

“Good girl.” You hum softly, but it isn’t quite what he’s looking for. It’s good, don’t get him wrong, but he’s after more. “Tell me about your day, baby.” He continues to plant kisses along your skin. You know this isn’t a request but rather a requirement of the game.

“Well, I had work today, then I had to stop at the grocery store. I made dinner and—” You’re cut off by a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck, because you can’t help but let out a gasp of pleasure.

“What? A few kisses and you’re already turning dumb for me?” You shudder softly, your heartbeat steadily increasing. The deep cadence of his voice paired with his words make you want to just melt. “Oh, there she is..”

He lets go of your arms for just a moment to slip your shirt off.  Then, your hands are back above your head, held down by his grip. He moves on from your neck and begins to kiss down.

“I like this game.” You manage out, and he chuckles.

“I know you do. You know how?”

You think about it for a moment before you answer. You want to be right.

“You can hear my heartbeat?”

“And I can smell you. You like this a lot. More than you like me?” He continues to kiss down your torso.

You don’t answer for a second. He bites your skin gently, prompting you to answer.

“No.” You answer, “No, I don’t like anything.. anyone more than you.”

He kisses the spot where he bit softly.

“Even smart girls need to be reminded sometimes.” Is all he says before he continues to kiss you. You try to hide it, try to hide your reaction to the words, but he grins against your skin.

“Matt..” you groan out softly because his kisses have stopped.

“What?”

“Why’d you stop?” You whined.

“You’re my smart girl, why don’t you tell me?” You pause, biting your lip. “Is it because you can’t? Do you like being dumb for me, smart girl?” You want to defend yourself, but he bites your skin again.

“Yes!” you respond, and he does the same thing he did before—He kisses where he bit.

“Good girl.” He responds. “I like making you dumb just from a few kisses anyways.” He tells you, finally reaching your stomach with his kisses. “I love my dumb little smart girl.” The cadence he has to his voice makes you whine again. He knows every part of you, even the parts you never wanted to tell him about. He’s just too observant. “I love that despite how well behaved and good you are, you’re dumb enough to be talked down to like this, by some strange man who just crawled through your window.”

You answer before you can think about it. You’re smart enough to know that he’s at least half right.

“You’re not just anyone, you’re my Matt.”

“Your Matt?” He hums. “Your Matt, My ditzy smart girl.” He grins, before placing one last kiss right above the waistline of your shorts.

He moves so he can kiss your lips again, kissing you quick before pulling off his mask so you can see his face. He has a cut on his forehead and a bruise forming on his cheek. It’s clear he had a good night though, or else this wouldn’t be happening.

“Your face..” You frown, concern in your voice.

“Observant and smart?” He teases, kissing your forehead. “What happened to wanting to be dumb for me?”

You’re almost embarrassed of it now.

“You’re being mean.” You say quietly.

“Mean? Me? To my best girl?” He kisses you quickly again. “Never.” He hums. One of his hands goes down to your thigh, his fingertips inching up.

“Never.” You echo.

“What do you say, smart girl?” He asks, “Wanna play a few more games? See just how desperate I can make you?”

You huff at his words, your brain short circuiting to the point where you speak before you can really think.

“I just want you to fuck me!”

He stops just as he’s about to pull off your shorts and slithers back up so the pair of you are face to face.

“First of all,” he places a kiss to your lips gently, “You are not in a position to be making demands, pretty girl. Second,” He kisses you again, “Such a foul mouth for such a dumb baby,” You let off a soft whine, and he has the audacity to mock your whine, “I know, it’s not much of a lecture when you like when I talk to you like this,” He hums. “And third, I know you’re smarter than to be a brat.” He says gently, kissing you again.

“I’m not a brat.” You whine, and again, he mocks you before devolving into a deep chuckle, leaning in to kiss you.

“I love you.” He says, with a grin on his face.

He’s gentle with you for a few moments, softer. You decide that now is your chance, and if you don’t act now, you’ll spend the rest of your night under his thumb. So, you flip over and have him under you, as you sit on his lower stomach. His hands come up to the back of your thighs.

“I’ve got you now, Devil.” You grin, leaning in to kiss him. But before you can, he’s flipping you back over, keeping you pinned by your legs.

“Brat.” he accuses, leaning in to kiss you again. You huff. “Easy, pretty girl, your attitude is getting the best of you.”

You frown and turn your head when he goes to kiss you.

“Tell me I’m not a brat and I’ll kiss you.” You demand, and he grins, but this time it isn’t soft. It’s almost wicked. He grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head towards him, before kissing you roughly.

“What did I tell you?” he asks. “Come on, smart girl, I know you remember.”

“That I was in no position to make demands?”

“That’s right.” He coos, “Now, baby, do you want to hear what I had planned for you tonight?”

You must admit, you’re very curious.

“Sure, Matty.” His grin widens.

“Well, I was planning on playing this little game with you, then eating you out until your thighs are shaking,” You let out a whine, but he just shushes you softly, “Sh, sh, sh… You wanted to hear, so listen.” He hums. “Then, I was going to fuck you until you were full of my cum.” He tells you.

Then, he lets out a disappointed sigh.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That was what I was planning on, but because you decided to be a brat, I have a new plan.”

“I liked that plan so much though..”

“I know, Sweetheart, me too.. But you’re the one who ruined it.” He reminded, leaning in, and biting your jaw between his fingers. His hand positioning is not exactly choking, but the grip is tight enough to leave marks. He feels you grind your hips up a bit, and chuckles again. “Smart girl, already figuring out what’s next.”

You tilt your head in confusion, but before you know it, he’s repositioning you so you’re in his lap at the edge of the bed. He pats your thigh gently.

“Get up for me, Honey. Then you got to take your shorts off for me.” You do as you’re told, no longer interested in fucking up his plans. Then, he pulls you back onto his lap, and he hums gently. You decide to take a risk and bring your hands up to his jaw, and then up towards his mask.

“Please?” You ask gently. “Wanna see you..” He nods softly, letting you pull off his mask, as his head tilts to the side to kiss your palm.

“You remember who’s in charge, right, sweetheart?”

“You, devil.”

“That’s right, angel.” He praises, “And that’s why you’re going to ride my thigh.” You let out a soft whine, and he shakes his head, “No, no whining from you, sweet girl. You wanted to be a brat, so you gotta reap what you sew.”

He holds your hips as you begin to grind against his thigh, and Matt focuses on the way your breathing hitches as you rub against his thigh. Your hands grip his shoulders as he begins to kiss your neck again.

Your skin burns with need, and your hips roll faster as your breath speeds up, and slowly, minute by minute, you’re edging closer to your release. But he knows you’re close to coming undone not only because of how your skin is hot, and your breath is airy, but because you’re making such a mess.

You’re definitely staining his pant leg with your wetness, because after his insatiable teasing, you’re just desperate for him, and oh so sensitive. The speed of your grinding increases, and then, because he wants to see you break, he starts to bounce his leg up so that in addition to your grinding, it’s overwhelming you.

“Matt,” you say, breathlessly. “Matt, please..”

“Please what, smart girl? What do you want?” He’s really going to make you ask for it. This is all part of his game.

“Please..” You start, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, can I come?”

“What was that, baby? I didn’t hear you.”

Oh, now he’s being a fucking dick. You know he can hear you, with his damned super senses. Nonetheless, you pick your head up and manage to get it out.

“Please let me come,” You beg, and he laughs.

“You know what’s funny, baby?” You let out a whine. “You’re so smart, always holding the world on your shoulders, and yet.. A little bit of teasing and riding my thigh, and you can barely get a sentence out.. You’re being so good for me, baby. So good at following orders,” He bites your neck. “So, go ahead and come for me, sweet girl.”

As soon as those words leave his lips, you’re letting go, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. You moan into his ear, his hands on your side to keep you stable as you come undone. He keeps bouncing his leg to have you ride out your high as your legs begin to shake. You’re making all of these pretty noises for him, and the smell of your juices are overwhelming for him.

“Such a good girl for me,” he hums, kissing you softly. He’s back to being rather gentle with you. But his cock is incredibly hard against his pants, and he needs to feel you clench around him. “Can my pretty baby ride my cock?” You’re shaking but you nod gently.

He knows you’re verging on the edge of being unable to do much else, but he wants to see how far he can push you. So, he pats your leg again and you stand up. His hands come up to undo your bra and pull off your panties.

He holds them in his hands for a moment, breathing in deeply as your scent continues to overwhelm him. He wastes no more time, pulling off his shirt and then starting to unbuckle his black pants. On instinct, you’re on your knees, with this.. primal desire to suck him off.

He takes a deep breath, his hand going to your hair and pushing your hair from your face. You lean into his touch, smiling softly up at him. He knows how much you like just thoughtless sex—You value long, intimate nights too, but after a long week, you need to shut off your brain and he needs to take control.

“Wanna suck my cock first, baby? You’re so good for me..” He says softly, slipping down his boxers.

“Just wanna be good for you,” You hum, eying his glistening hardness. You can’t deny that he looks truly crafted by the hands of God—Most of his body is glistening with sweat, cock glistening with precum. He is heavenly and the only thing you’ll ever want to worship.

“You’re so good for me. My dumb little smart girl.” The name form earlier makes you weak, as you lean in and begin to lick his tip. His hand grips your hair as he inhales sharply. “Careful, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to guide you in sucking him dry.

His hand guides you as your head bobs against his cock, the taste of him turning your brain further into mush. He makes sure to guide you at a steady pace, moaning out praise, and occasionally degradation.

“So fucking good for me,” He gasps out, “My good little girl.. Sucking my cock so good—Ah, fuck..” He gasps as you quicken your pace. “Sucking me like the little slut you are..” You moan against cock at that, and he gasps, before it devolves into a low chuckle. “And you like it, too.. Being called my little slut.. Good little slut, just for me.. Got you trained so well..” He holds on for a few more moments before he comes into your mouth, panting softly.

His cum dribbles down your chin as you swallow most of it, so his hand comes up to your chin to gently wipe the dribble off before he slips his thumb into your mouth.

“Every last drop for me, angel.” He requests. You happily suck on his thumb for a few moments while he recovers. Then, he leans down and picks you up, resting you on the bed again. “Now you’re gonna ride me, right, pretty?”

“Mhm..” You smile, and as soon as he lays back on the bed, you’re on top of him. His cock slides against your folds and you whine a bit, just desperate for the feeling of him filling you up. “You know how badly I want your cock..” He grins at this.

“You have it, angel. Just gotta ride me, okay?” You hum in response. You slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, taking a few minutes to adjust to the size of him. But your slow pace is not quick enough for Matt, whose hands find your hips (for the millionth time tonight) and quickly slides his entire length into you.

You moan loudly, a feeling of pain and pleasure blurring together as he hits just the right spot to make you see stars.

“Matt, fuck,” You whine, wanting to take a second to catch your breath.

“Color?” It’s a safe word system—He knows he might have taken it a tad too far, pushing into you like that.

“Green,” You promise.

“Okay, good.” He leans up and kisses your forehead gently, a sign of the gentleness that resides in his demeanor despite just how into his dominate behavior you are. He begins to roll his hips, and revels in the sound of the pretty screams coming out of your mouth as he begins to pound into you. “I’ve got you fucked dumb, baby? Can’t even ride my cock properly?” He asks, pulling you in to kiss your skin.

“No,” You protest, “I can do it,” It comes out whinier than you wanted it to—Much whinier, but you can’t deny that he’s wrong about that first part. Your brain is blurry in the best way. He hums in approval before gently pushing you away from his lips.

“Prove it, then.” He demands, and his hips are no longer bucking into you. Instead, you shakily begin to bounce against his cock, using his moans and gasps as guidance. His hands grip your thighs as you ride him. “There you go, angel. It’s not too much for you, right?” He hums.

“No!” You protest again, “No, Sir, I can take it,” He grins at the slip of the title. He swats the side of your thigh, rubbing it softly after you yelp, but it quickens your pace. His brain is beginning to fog too, so he knows he wants to get a few more comments out.

“Fucking liar,” he laughs, “Even when your.. fuck..” He gasps, the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelming him. “When you’re bouncing on my cock and moaning for me, you’re still lying..” His one hand travels to play with your clit, rubbing small circles into it. “So,” He takes a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, before picking his head back up. “I’ll ask you again.. Is it too much for you, my ditzy girl?”

Tears prick your eyes, as you will your brain to come up with a comprehensive answer.

“Yes!” You admit, “it’s too much,” You pant, but because you don’t say ‘red’ he keeps going.

“Aw, I know, honey,” He plants a soft kiss to your lips, the hand that isn’t rubbing circles into your clit coming up to brush sweaty hair from your face. “But you can take it. Come on, sweet thing, I know..” He hums. “Come for me, baby..”

And you do—You come hard, your vision going white for a fraction of a second as you let out these angelic noises. He doesn’t give a damn about noise complaints right now, all he can focus on is the smell of your sweat, your cum, and your pretty little noises.

You continue to rock your hips, wanting to feel his cum fill you up. And after a few more minutes, your wish comes true, as he grips your hip tightly with one hand as he comes deep inside you, as you roll your hips just a few more times, riding the last waves of a euphoric high.

His chest is heaving as you slump down against his chest. The pair of you are sweating, but he still looks so beautiful like this. His cock still fills you, his cum deep within you. His hand gently runs up and down your back,

“How’s my sweet girl doing..?” He’s afraid he went too far with you, hoping his words didn’t push you into a bad headspace. It’s happened before, where you just needed time to come back to reality. But tonight, you’re exhausted in a whole new way. You’re happy that you’ll actually be able to sleep.

“I’m good,” You promise. You’re sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out of your mind.

He takes your jaw in his hand and tilts your head up so you’re looking in his general direction.

“You know I don’t really think you’re dumb, right?” He just needs to make sure.

“I know,” You giggle, “But it’s pretty hot in the moment. Besides, you took care of me.”

He grins and kisses your forehead.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He promises. You know he means it, too. Your Matty, always taking care of you. “You know you don’t need to worry about everything, right? You don’t have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“I know,” You start, “But you’re always so busy with the firm, and being Daredevil, and—” He hushes you softly.

“I am never too busy for you.” He says gently. “I know I can’t do your job for you, but I can be more careful and help with dinner, you know.” He just wants you to be less stressed all the time, the hypocrite.

“Okay.” You say gently. “Thank you, Matt.” He holds you close and places a soft kiss to your head.

“You’re still shaking,” He says gently, “But you need to shower.” He says softly, moving now so that he can carry you to your bathroom. You whine at the feeling of emptiness you’re left with when he slides out of you, and he just laughs. “I know, Baby, I know.”

Matt is just a general fan of taking care of you. Even when you’re fucked out of your mind like you are right now. You love that about him.

You love that the devil is so devoted to you. It stirs something deep inside you that you can’t quite voice. Matt knows it, too.

[dovewingkinnie]

anime girl gets transported into a post apocalyptic reality

[j2archives]

ponyboy ꨄ︎

── - ˚.⋆ 𝜗𝜚˚.⋆ - content warnings pwp, lowercase intended, unprotected piv, bottom!sub!sam, top!dom!fem reader, established relationship, hair pulling, morning sex, praise

notes first drabble on this acc !!

sam’s hands roamed over your curves, tracing the swells of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips. he looked up at you as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen. and he sure thought so.

watching your lips part to moan his name as your hips grinded down against his pelvis again, sam didn’t think he’d seen anything better. he marveled at the way you fit so perfectly in his arms, how the faint sunlight peeking through the curtains illuminated your features. sam knew he’d do anything to make you happy in a heartbeat and there was no changing his mind about that.

feeling your heat squeeze his length so perfectly had sam letting out a moan, it felt perfect being nestled inside of you like this. his tip hitting your g-spot over and over again. your fingers then snuck down to the back of his head, tugging at his brown locks.

his hips bucked up involuntarily at the sudden action earning a loud and wanton cry from your kissed, swollen lips. sam’s hands slid up from the possessive grip he held on your hips to your chest, holding the mounds in his hands.

“fuck, you’re so perfect. you keep squeezing me so good, i love you, god- i love you so much, just like that.” his voice was strained as he praised you. as much as he wanted to flip you over and take what he wanted, sam knew to act better than that. he was supposed to stay still, let you ride him to your satisfaction. and he did, he wanted to be good for you.

it felt as if sam was getting impossibly deeper, earning a gasp from your lips, “you’re so good, sammy. letting me ride you, take what I need. so pretty, baby.” your voice was breathless, starting to lower like a whisper. but sam could hear you.

when your hips stilled, his hands rushed to keep you steady. his eyes never drifted from where he was connected with you, watching your release drip down onto his skin and the rustled sheets. the sight was enough for him to let go, filling your cunt up to the brim.

it was so messy, but that was just how you both liked it.

[haveihitanerve]

Renewed Orphan Grief

Clark barely sees it coming. He doesn't even see the hit. Only sees the aftermath. Bruce crumbles. Hard and quick and final. There is a sudden stillness to the battlefield, a hush rippling over everyone, good and bad, villain and hero. The villain pauses, caught off guard. He hadn't expected it to work. He hadn't expected to kill- “BATMAN!!” the screams shatter the silence, cleaving across the battle like knives. Clark turns. Nightwing is barreling towards his fallen former mentor, hardly registering the people he flies over, legs moving in a blur. Red Robin is right behind him, hurtling for Batman as well, almost fast enough to rival a speedster. Robin himself is already there, pushing and pulling and tugging, demanding he “get up!” and “fight!” and “stop playing please father!” Clark cannot stand it. He turns, and sees that there are more than just three voices. “BATMAN!!” Spoiler, the purple demon Bruce had once called her, is running faster than he has ever seen a human, and he can already detect the salty scent of tears. “B!” Red Hood drops his guns, sprinting for the other Gotham hero, the man they all thought was his enemy. Another child appears at his side, silent, undetected, ‘orphan’ Clark’s brain supplies numbly. Batman’s shadow. There’s a sudden roar of defiance and someone new and yet old is there, red hair flowing, metal braces around her legs, a bright yellow bat proudly emblazoned on her chest. The Signal is at her side, and they collapse like alk the others at his side, pulling Robin away and begging, pleading, pushing their life into him, sobbing for him to just “get up, please.” and Clark can’t stand the voice cracks and the shaking sobs, can’t stand the numbness in Red Robin’s eyes and the lack of a smile on Nightwing’s face. The battle resumes, slowly, and suddenly the kids are awake again, tearing across the field like wraiths, ripping through anyone who gets in their way. Clark spots their final destination. The villain does too. He scrambles into his jet, screaming, “go go go!” But its too late. They converge, scrambling up the sides like spiders, nimble and fast and far too agile. There is a silence emanating off them that is unnatural, unheard of. Clark has felt grief before but nothing like the things he can feel wafting off of them, and J’onn falls to his knees, cradling his head in pain as the wave finally hits him. “Please!!!” The villain screams, and they cannot see him anymore, theres a solid wall of bodies between them and his voice. “Don’t kill me!!” At that, they finally pause. “You killed our father.” Nightwing says finally, voice echoing across the expanse. “He had a rule against killing.” Red Hood cracks his fingers. “He might have pleaded your case.” The children, as a whole, step closer. “He’s not here to do that anymore.” Clark covers his ears. 

[obae-me]

The door to the common room opened as the eldest let himself inside, a curious arch to one of his eyebrows. "So here's where you all were," Lucifer sighed suspiciously, taking note of how everyone-- including MC-- was shifting in their seats, trying not to smile. "Do I even dare ask what--" The corner of his eyes spotted a small creature sneaking up behind him. His hand immediately pressed to his chest, his lips forming a tightly pressed line as he seemingly lost the air in his lungs. Catching his composure, he turned his head back to his brothers and the human in his care, shooting them all a frustrated glare. "What the hell is this doing here?"

The demon of Pride gestured down to the fluffy black and brown puppy that was no bigger than his shoe and currently busy attacking one of his shoelaces. His gaze did not leave the pup for a single second.

"I'm makin' some money. Don't worry about it," Mammon assured him, leaning back against the couch and observing his older brother with a deeply focused gaze. "Dogsittin' for a day or two."

Asmo and Satan shot each other competitive looks from across their seats.

Annoyed that he wasn't consulted first, Lucifer shook his head a bit as the puppy bounded away from his shoe and towards a dust bunny on the ground. "Well, as always, you're doing a terrible job," he huffed, quickly stepping forward and scooping the animal off the ground and tucked against his chest with one arm. The other free hand was used to pull the dust and fluff from the creature's mouth. "You mustn't have anything on the floors. They need to be looked after constantly. Not to mention a strict schedule." The puppy licked at his fingers and chewed playfully at his tie, tugging on it. "Honestly... as if any of you are responsible enough to take care of anything. Isn't that right, little one?" As he spoke, he began to take a few steps back towards the doors, scratching under the dog's chin with his eyes closed and just the faintest touch of pink on his cheeks. Lucifer left just as quickly as he came, taking the dog with him.

All the brothers leapt to their feet, pointing at each other.

"I told you he wouldn't gasp! That's five Grimm!" Asmo pointed towards Satan, who cursed and groaned in annoyance.

"But," Mammon smirked, a little smug laugh following his words. "He swore. Which means little Belphie has something he owes me." The youngest rolled his eyes before chucking his Grimm at the demon of Greed.

Beel finally spoke up with a grin on his face. "He did the baby voice at the end. So that means Levi gives me snacks right?"

"W-what?! That didn't count! So what if he gushed just a little?.... Alright fine, whatever, I'll let you have my pudding..."

The human looked at each and every one of them, more of a devilish look in their eyes than usual. "Do we want to make bets on if he's snuggling the puppy right now?" Everyone seemed to snap to attention at that. MC grinned. "The person who gets the best photo of him cuddling wins 20 Grimm."

[muses-with-afp]

Among the cobwebs tangled about in the ole noggin is: Byakuya really is just out there living a whole 'nother life inside his head, isn't he?

We see this get clocked by Toshiro in Chapter 674 (above) and, hopefully, Rukia and Renji (i.e., the "they" to whom Toshiro is referring). You could surmise that Toshiro is very perceptive and that's how he discerned what Byakuya was doing. And, sure, Toshiro is plenty perceptive. But... also... like... how often does Byakuya do this? How often does he put on some weird "performance" that he's fairly certain others "see through"? Or, at least, he intends for others to see through?

My guess is: The whole damn time.

I like to think the below Q&A from KlubOutside isn't just some continuity error that Kubo is fixing in post, but, rather, a suggestion that Byakuya is really out there living a life completely untethered from reality.

KlubOutside Q&A, as translated by reikorun

Like... we know from the SS Arc that Rukia does not view her relationship with Byakuya as warm and fuzzy. She says as much with her words and actions throughout that arc.

But... umm... the above seems to suggest that she and Byakuya likely discussed Renji at some point during their 40/50-year relationship. And, from that/those discussion(s), Byakuya left feeling intimately acquainted with not only Rukia, but Renji as well. Enough so that the man married to formality thought he could totally dispense with it when he met Renji.

Rukia, on the other hand? Girly, didn't blink an eye at her crazy "brother's" crazy antics during the SS Arc. She was like "he'd kill me himself and not give a damn" (paraphrasing). And like... understandable since it did seem to be going that way, but for Ichigo et al.

However, what subtle "hints" had Byakuya dropped that he just assumed she understood during the SS arc? Probably a million. Maybe he thought they were totally aligned then. Maybe he thought she knew the extent of his troubled heart along with the whys and hows and whatfores.

Maybe he was really out there living his best headcanon life.

[hivesfics]

another spencer x reader thing thats not proofread or formatted properly cause im lazy

nsfw under the cut

warnings: no use of pronouns but reader is described with a vagina, also no description of reader other than using the word plush once, over-use of the pet name “honey” spencer calls you angel, bros pussy drunk and mainly nonverbal tho tbh,slight breeding kink, aftercare in the form of cleaning him up and cuddling.

reid sometimes just needing you to take control for him after a particularly hard case. needing to be taken care of, to be throughly fucked out to forget about everything (not that he actually can with that insane memory of his), but the idea of it.

you can tell its been a rough case when he comes home. you don’t have to be a profiler to tell that your boyfriend is utterly exhausted and in need of an escape. you can see it in the dark circles under his eyes, his slouchy posture, the way he collapses onto his knees in front of where you sit on the couch.

you can see it in the way he pries your legs apart to make room for his shoulders. the way he rests his head on your bare thigh, sighing heavily against your skin.

you don’t even ask what’s bothering him, simply running your hand through his hair because you know he doesn’t want to speak right now. he just wants you.

your grip in his hair tightens, wrenching his head so he’s looking up at you. your other hand coming down to smooth over his jaw, soft and sweet compared to the grip on his curls.

his lips part, a breathy moan slipping past them as he looks into your eyes. the exhaustion evident in them.

“need me to take care of you, hm?” you coo, tilting your head.

he nods in response, lip quivering. it makes you want to kiss him, so you lean over and pull him up the rest of the way. pressing your lips to his in a searing kiss, immediately licking your way into his mouth.

spencer kisses back obediently, hands clutching your thighs. your sure there will be bruises in their wake, but you cant find time to care. you release him from the kiss and stand from the couch, making him fall backwards a little.

“come, let’s take this to the bedroom, honey.” you smile, stepping around him to go to your shared bedroom.

he follows you like a lost puppy, scrambling up to stand on his too long limbs, stumbling to catch up with you.

when he gets in the room, you’ve shed the shirt of his that you wear. it leaves you in your underwear, no bra in sight.

“strip for me.” you say soft yet firmly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

spender stands there in the door, dumbfounded for a second. who knew all it took for the genius with an IQ of 187 to be turned into a mess was a pair of tits?

he processes what you’ve said and works at the buttons on his shirt, getting frustrated when his hands fumble over them.

“c’mere…” you say softly, tenderness evident in your voice.

he pads over, standing between your spread legs again. looking down at you as your fingers work deftly at his shirt. once the buttons are undone, you reach up and slide it down his shoulders and off his arms.

nimble fingers working at his belt and pants next, ridding him of those as well. leaving him already straining against his boxers in front of you.

“take those off f’me then get on your knees and eat me out.” you demand gingerly, ridding yourself of your own underwear.

again, he follows your directions obediently, kneeling in front of you once he’s nude. he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, watching the way you glisten for him.

his eyes find yours as he leans in and licks from your entrance to your clit. he eats you out like he’s starved, eager and wanting. his eyes fluttering shut as he gets into it, moaning against you.

“that’s it…good boy.” you moan, tangling your fingers into his hair again.

he keens and decides to use his fingers as well, slipping one inside of you with little resistance so he adds another. he continues licking and sucking at your clit, letting out little moans and sighs of pleasure. he grips your hip with his free hand, fingers digging into the plush flesh there.

you moan at the motion of his fingers inside of you, crooking up and hitting that soft spot inside of you.

“fuck— spence, gonna make me cum.” you keen, thighs twitching and threatening to close around his head as he doubles down on his efforts.

the filthy squelch of his fingers inside of you hits your ears as you spill over the edge. head rolling back between your shoulders as your back arches.

he pulls away after he’s sure you’ve come down from your high, looking up at you for your next directions. your wetness smeared over the lower half of his face.

he watches with bated breath as you scoot up towards the headboard and pillows. following as you crook your finger teasingly, smirking at him.

he crawls on top of you, lifting your legs and placing them on either side of his hips. his hands smoothing up to reach your hips, holding them tightly.

“so good to me, honey.” you coo sweetly, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss.

as you kiss him, you reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his length. leading the tip of him to slide through your wet folds, pressing at your entrance.

“fuck—“ spencer chokes out against your lips, thrusting his hips forward and pushing inside of you.

you smile as he finally speaks, even if it was just him cussing.

“yeah? this was all you needed, huh?” you chuckle, raking your nails down his chest as he fucks into you.

“mhhm…” he grunts, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. he kisses the skin there and pants heavy against you.

“so wet angel— s’warm…” he babbles, his arms slipping under you to hold you closer to him.

“s’all for you, honey.” you moan, your hand tangling into the hair at the base of his neck, tugging it lightly.

spencer moans breathlessly, nosing up the length of your neck. he kisses your jaw and then your cheek, trailing over to your lips again.

“love you angel…love you so much.” he hiccups before he kisses you, hugging you tighter to him as he fucks you harder.

“mhh— love you too, spence.” you whimper after the kiss, slipping a hand back down between your bodies so you can circle your fingers around your clit.

spencer buries his face in your neck again mouthing kisses and praises into your flesh.

“so— so pretty, angel.” he whispers, you could tell he was close with his breathing and the way his dick twitched inside of you.

“close honey? you gonna fill me up?” you purr, trailing off into a gasp.

he nods frantically, “yes—yes— god i love you!”

you spill over the edge with a shout, arching up into him. he follows suit, whining into your skin.

he doesn’t pull out until he’s sure you’ve both come down from your orgasms, even then he’s hesitant to. not wanting to separate from you, he lays down next to you and pulls you close to him.

“spence…honey we need to take a bath.” you laugh softly as he pulls you closer.

he doesn’t make an effort to let you go, hands digging into your hips.

“okay, least let me get a rag to clean us up, yeah?” you kiss where you can reach and his hands loosen around you enough for you to move them and leave the bed.

“thank you.” you hear him croak as you come back with a warm water soaked rag and a hand towel to dry off with.

“you dont need to thank me.” you smile, lightly rubbing him down. you had cleaned yourself in the bathroom so you dry him down and take the dirty things to the washer and toss them in.

you’d fill it the rest of the way in the morning, but for now you wanted to be in bed with spencer again. you quickly grab a bottle of water and return to the bedroom, offering it to him.

he greedily drinks half of it, setting it aside before pulling you into his arms.

“you mean the world to me.” he whispers, kissing the side of your face.

“you mean the world to me too, honey.” you smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

it doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep curled up with each other. your dreams plagued by him and his by you.

[lynolch]

Enjoying each other's company in a tranquil garden

[genericpuff]

the last few episodes of persephone moping around have felt like less of a self-reflective moment for her to grow and change and more rachel griping about criticism and surrounding herself with yes men

this isn't gonna be in any way a formal essay like my usual sort, more of a slam post honestly, so fair warning that i'm gonna be a little salty here

EPISODE 263 SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!

but seriously, it's been a pity party of greek proportions because this constant "woe is me" shit with persephone that's constantly met with "no queeen you're amazing and perfect" has been going on for DAYS (real time and comic time)

literally every episode since the comic returned has had some segment of either persephone or hades (or both) being upsetti spaghetti over their current situation because oh nooo persephone made the deal with erebus and had to sacrifice something. even though they both knew that was gonna happen and yet she did it anyways. so she just continues to lock herself away in her mansion and spout adorkable quips while her husband, mother, and colleagues deal with the mess she caused.

and of course there's the constant inclusion of apollo spitting straight facts about persephone being a terrible queen and person, but of course because it's apollo saying it, it's not meant to be taken as gospel, essentially clapping back at the words of the critics who call out persephone for being a shitty and toxic protagonist by putting those words into the mouth of a literal rapist.

and yeah episode 263 had a lot of the same shit, to the point that you could literally swap out the names of the characters and the words they were speaking and it applies exactly to rachel and the corner she put herself in u.u it's been a thing for a while now that apollo has just felt like a mouthpiece for LO criticism but as mentioned by users within the subreddit during the discussion of this newest episode, it's never felt more apparent than now.

so yeah enjoy this satirical text edit of a sequence from the newest FP episode, which I honestly can't tell is meant to satirize the critical community or Rachel's reactions to the critical community because the weird reality this comic and its community exist in has just become that wack that it's hard to believe it's not directly from The Onion sometimes LMAO

-and as much as i find myself empathizing with the pressure that rachel is surely under right now - no one should have to be subject to the screeching howls of the peanut gallery - i can't help but be reminded of the memes and tweets she's put out that basically outright say "persephone is supposed to be celebrated for being a shitty person, if you can't handle her at her worst you don't deserve her at her best 💅"-

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rachel Smythe (@usedbandaid)

-and how often she's ruined her own day looking for critical groups or people with the "wrong opinions" that were minding their own business, or how much she's stifled her own community's attempts to discuss the story openly by having her mods ban anyone with even so much as a question regarding persephone's integrity.

so yeah, as much as i can empathize with her from one creator to another that being under this amount of pressure and scrutiny must be immensely frustrating and exhausting, beyond that one similarity i just can't empathize or relate to this mindset of almost learned helplessness that's taken a firm grip over her writing. this is the story she wants to tell and by all means no one is entitled to make her stop, but if she's gonna keep using her greek myth "retelling" comic that's trying to be "feminist" as a mouthpiece for her own griping over criticisms that are largely on-point and justified - to the point of putting the words of her critics into the mouth of her token villain like she's playing some single player barbie doll "act out that fight that sounded cooler in your head" game - then she's gonna keep getting called out, full stop. i figured she didn't have any nose left to rip off in spite of her face but apparently not.

look, i get it, there are some opinions and behaviors within the critical community that even i'm not on board with. there are people who absolutely take shit too far on both sides of the fandom, and i think both sides need to do more to hold themselves accountable for how they interact with each other, the comic, and rachel herself. i make it a point to keep my shit in my own house, i'm not entitled to rachel's attention and frankly it's the last thing i want because i have a lot of fun here and i don't want that to be potentially ruined or dampened! but if you come into my house and complain about the decorating, then i legitimately don't know what to tell you. i used to love LO and i'm so sad for my past self knowing fully well they're not gonna be able to wholeheartedly enjoy this comic forever due to how manipulative and shitty the storytelling has become. a story that i once connected to as an AFAB who was a victim of assault and abuse and generational trauma.

if persephone being the true main villain in her own story was ever meant to be the point of Lore Olympus, then it's taken way, way too long to get to that point, and rachel herself definitely doesn't seem to be of the mindset that that's what she's become with all of her blasé meme'ing on a plot arc that she's still expecting us to take seriously. persephone was never a very complex character to begin with - being an easy self-insert for the audience and rachel to project themselves onto and relate to - but at least in the beginning she felt like she had so much legitimate potential, she was naive but put her best foot forward and clearly wanted to make a life for herself, made by herself.

now she's just mean. jaded and mean. dependent on the constant validation of others to the point of being manipulative. an absolute shell of a person who can only grow a spine when she's punching down on people weaker than her, completely incapable of standing up to the people who are a legitimate threat to her. it's not empowering, it's not subversive, it's just another pick me story about women pitting themselves against other women and never taking accountability for their own behavior, mistakes, and deliberate actions meant to hurt others, often teetering on the line of straight up narcissism all for the sake of a "boss babe" moment.

anyways, if you want an actual well-written and GOOD scene of an empathetic female protagonist struggling to find their footing in adulthood being called the fuck out for their learned helplessness behavior, go read Tamberlane, it tackles this topic much better through its main character who keeps using her brokenness as an excuse to never do better, it slaps and it's so real.

[crayonnthief]

Later…

Miles dumbass somehow forgot about the multiverse (HOW?!) Mikeys grumpy at his rudeness towards his other version.

[Wip] If you guys really want I’ll consider finishing this. I just could not be bothered and have other stuff I want to work on. Have lazy sketch for now <3

———- work update ———-

Working on alt rottmnt!April for you guys <3 (hope it turns out well ^^)

[clus444]

12." Please, Don't ever stop!" (John Price)

The one-liners I choose from THEM. (This prompt was helpful. I let a generate choose.) Mature themes ahead, Beware of everything (Is this good enough caution lol)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I whimper out, "F-fuck...please." I shiver as John runs his hand over my soaked pussy. John smirks as he leans down and sucks on my neck. Creating reddish/purplish marks on my skin. His hands runs over my thighs and grips every now and again.

I can hear my heart in my ear thumping repeatedly as his manhood grazes over where I need him most. He's been edging me since we finished dinner. I jolt as his tip teases my clit. I try to look at the alarm clock on my bedside but my chin is quickly grasped back.

"Don't lose focus sweets. I'd hate to have to punish you seriously," He says soothingly in my ear but his wolfy grin says otherwise. I knew it was a trap when he got quiet and beckoned me to his lap earlier. His questions should have ranged alarm bells or maybe it did and I was too dumb to notice.

"Do you know what restraint is wifey?"

"Do you know what it's like to fight teeth and nail to hold back your desires for another when you're so far away?''

A sharp grin spreads onto his face, "Let me give you your first lesson in holdin' back."

He is such a prick. If your vision wasn't hazy or your pussy wasn't responding the way it was, you could've kicked him. But you couldn't lie and say you didn't love it. The way he allows you to stop thinking in some moments. The way you try to be two steps ahead of everything but he's already at three. The way he knows when to step in and when to let you handle it yourself ( even then he's not too far behind).

He doesn't want to be an authority figure to you. He wants to be your protector, someone to turn to when you're sad, someone to rant to when you get red in the face from crying or tears pouring out your eyes when you're pissed. He wants to be yours just as much as you want to be his. You whine out when John grinds his dick over your pussy.

"Shhh... can't hear what she needs when your whining love," at this point John is thrusting his tip into your hole. You clench aimlessly around it when you feel it. With every clench, you swear you can feel a slick rush out of you. A soft wet sound from your cunt is heard but you can't dare to begin to be embarrassed. Just want an orgasm to soothe the pressure in your pussy. "John... plea- please. Want more," Tears well in my eyes.

He snickers," Since you asked so nicely." He begins pushing into my wet cavern. My mouth hangs open as a mewl comes out. John is no small man. Just like the guns he carries, there's weight between his legs that he carries as well. The stretch isn't painful but stings in between are apparent. "Let me in, love" John trails kisses from my neck to my jaw then landing on my lips.

I try to stretch open my legs as much as I can and he slips in deeper. My head falls flat on the bed. John pushes the last of himself inside. I can feel him close to my fucking cervix. 'Lord give me strength' I say in my head. My walls expand and moisten even more as if it's preparing for a pounding it knows it's coming.

"Please move," I moan as I feel John widen his stance. He starts off slow but quickly gains speed. John takes one of his hands to grasps my hands and holds it against the bed but above my head. John takes his free arm and hooks my leg over. I gasp and moan as he pounds into my pussy.

My eyes roll to the back of my head. He angles his head up to hit my G-spot to make me see stars. John groans into my ear as his cock slides in and out.

"Please!... Don't e-ever stop," I cry out as pressure builds in my lower abdomen.

"Give it to me baby. Let me have it," John growls as he slows down and focus on going deeper and rearranging these guts. "God, I could marry him'. Dick game should be good after all this teasing. I feel my body jerk and my heart speeds up as I get close. And if by throbbing of his cock he is too.

*pat...pat... pat pat*

He starts hammering into me again with what feels like desperation now. I feel something bloom in my chest. It's different from what I've felt in other relationships. It's overwhelming and starts to fill up my body. My words need a release just like my body.

"I-I love youuu," I moan as I cum. It comes out in ripples, making my hips buck involuntarily. My toes curl on the edge of cramping from how tense I hold them. I feel John join not too shortly after.

"I love you too, the love of my life."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wrote this as a way to introduce my masterlisttt.

[dangocheeked]

2021.01 ✩ genesis

lwj grapples with the enormity of his feelings towards the beautiful flirtatious pest that is wwx. circumstances, debts, and decisions lead to wwx falling from grace, and they both have to grow on their own before they can come together (pun intended), i.e., a retelling of mdzs, but with a hornier angelji/succxian flavor.

[haveihitanerve]

Heroes

“Haven’t I given enough?”

They whisper, tears soaking their cheeks, hands red with blood, kneeling in a graveyard of their friends.

No, young hero. No, you have not. 

[randomnerd737]

Logan: *flipping through the Iliad* wheres the chapter with all the ships!?

Virgil: I thought you didn't like shipping.

Logan:

Virgil:

Logan: >:(

[builder051]

NaNo 2024 day 16: From the diary of Steven Grant Rogers

(Canon departure post Civil War— Steve takes Bucky home instead of taking him to Wakanda)

Note: This is Steve’s (first person) perspective, and all of the he/him pronouns refer to Bucky. I want this to be both realistic as a stream-of-conscious diary entry and a well-rounded piece of writing.

Note: No trigger warnings. No plot. Not a sickfic (sorry).

——————————

Now that everyone knows his name, everyone knows his reputation. But he’s not ruthless and soulless. That’s not the man I know. That’s not the man I see. But then again, that’s looking through my filter.

I’ll never forget the day he invited me to Thanksgiving. It wasn’t so much an invitation as a masked order with enticing details tagged on the end. With Ma having just passed, I put on my own version of hard and cold. It’s not a good look on either one of us. I wish coming off the ice would’ve pushed away some of the raw grief of losing him. But even now, I look into his face, and I know he’s still lost.

It’s almost worse when he’s in the here and now. He knows what the public thinks of him, and he knows they’re right. It was never his fault, never his choice to be turned into a weapon of mass destruction. It’s lucky HYDRA failed in the end and left a little piece of him behind in his brain, because that’s what we’re teasing out day by day. I’m well aware of what else is left in his brain, and I know it’s luckier still that he hasn’t tried to strangle me.

I’ve tried to learn about the elasticity and healing properties of the human brain. Today’s combat vets aren’t coming away quite so bad, though I doubt any treatment could hijack him back into the person he used to be.

When we first got back stateside, I got us a place in Brooklyn. The skyline’s a little different from when we left it, but I thought he might like something familiar. I’m constantly thinking about what he might like. I don’t mind taking the lead on a project, but it’s different when it comes to how someone should think or act. I don’t think I aught to be in charge. When it comes down to it, the decades that’ve passed mean nothing. He’s lived more than I have. Survived more than I have. More than I can ever imagine.

When I first set up the bedroom, I made it like barracks. Two single beds pushed up against the walls and just the basics on the side tables. The same way as everything else, I don’t want to stress him about sleep. I want him to get comfortable in his memories on his own time.

Last night I had a shower and dressed for bed in the hall bathroom, trying not to make too much noise since he’d called it an early night. When I walked into the bedroom, I found him on my side of the room, shirtless and stretched out on his stomach, my sheets and blanket bunched up against his chest. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, trying my best not to breathe. He still must’ve sensed my presence, because he shifted a little to the side and extended his arm. His eyes were still shut and his face still buried in the pillow. He might’ve been thinking of strangling me, but through my filter, it looked like love.