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whatsnewalycat · 4 months

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mindfuck

Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: Dave hypnotizes you.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 2.8k+

Warnings: hypnokink, not entirely good praxis of hypnosis, humiliation, implied infidelity, praise, smut, unprotected piv, D/s dynamic, dom dave, literal mind fucking so like a bit of body horror get into it

Notes: For @iamasaddie kinky May writing challenge. Prompt was hypnosis + Dave York. I found a lot of inspiration for this from a post in r/EroticHypnosis about mindfucking (can find again if anyone wants the link - lemme know!). Posting this in a hurry bc I am late to a thing so hopefully not tooooo many missed mistakes. OK THANK YOU FOR READING!!!

[ my masterlist ]

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All your life you wished you could turn off your thoughts at will.

Growing up, on those nights where your crowded head wouldn’t let you sleep, you would imagine twisting off the top of your skull like a jar lid and plopping your brain on the nightstand. It even worked sometimes, too, if you tried hard to convince yourself. When reminders of an upcoming math test or images of that cute boy in class crept into your purview, they had nowhere to go. They evaporated, and you slept.

Dave says you’re too smart for your own good. Sometimes when you’re lost in thought, he tells you he wants to empty that pretty little head of yours. Not in a condescending way, although you can see how someone might interpret it like that.

What he means is that he wants you to be with him when you’re with him. What he means is that he wants you to be present. Not thinking about the past or the future. Not reminding yourself of deadlines or analyzing the data stored in your brain or wondering what you mean to him exactly.

The first time he suggested hypnosis, you balked. Even after he explained how it worked, you were hesitant enough for him to drop the subject.

When he brought it up again, though, your skepticism swayed. You asked him for more details, so he dispensed the pros and cons and the step process. He could do it for you, he said. He knew how. He said he could rattle the bees from your buzzing honeycomb brain. All you had to do was trust him with this power.

So you did.

And you do.

Your valiant beekeeper meets you at this hotel every other Tuesday night, except on holidays. This isn’t the only one-on-one time he dedicates to you, but it’s by far the most reliable. He doesn’t always hypnotize you, either.

Regardless of whether he puts you in a trance or not, this standing date always starts the same. He slips you the keycard at some point throughout the day, only after he’s adorned it with a vase full of seasonal blooms and laid out something for you to wear.

Tonight he left you lilacs and matching lingerie. Intricate floral appliqués embellish the pastel nightie he laid out on the bed.

Opulence becomes you when you slip it on and pour a glass of champagne from the bottle Dave left to chill on ice. You mosey around the spacious high-end suite, sipping frosty bubbles as you admire the birds-eye view of downtown, the tall buildings and bustling city life all drenched in golden light from the setting sun.

As the time nears eight o’clock, you empty your champagne flute and make yourself comfortable on the plush bed. Crystals hanging from the chandelier fragment soft white light into dazzling tiny spectrums, sparkling rainbow when the door to the suite opens, then closes.

Dave enters the room with an air of authority that makes you straighten your spine and draw back your shoulders. After chucking off his jacket, he empties his pockets on the dresser and loosens his tie, then turns around to meet your gaze.

His stern expression melts as he looks you over, seeming to appraise how your body fills out the lilac nightie. Heat sparks in the middle of you when he greets you, “Hey beautiful.”

“Hi.”

He approaches your side and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt, “Comfortable?”

Nodding, you sit up to pull him in for a kiss. His plush lips respond without hesitation, firm but generous as he slips a wide palm around your body and brings you even closer.

When he pulls back, he asks, “Are you ready?”

“Ready.”

He cradles your jaw, searching your face with blatant admiration before separating his body from yours. You lay back into the soft embrace of the pillows and wiggle around until you find the sweet spot of comfort while Dave drags an armchair to your bedside and sits down. Once you’re both settled and still, he begins.

“Close your eyes.”

You close them.

“Take a deep breath in…”

You take in air until you can’t.

“…and slowly release it.”

You exhale, rationing your metered breath through a straw-sized ‘o’ formed by your lips.

“Good. Take a deep breath in… two three four… and slowly release it. Deep breath in… two three four… now slowly release it.”

Behind closed lids, you concentrate on the rhythmic ebb and flow of your lungs contracting and expanding. His warm voice surrounds you. Envelops you.

“That’s it. Keep breathing just like this. Each time you inhale, draw the life from your breath, and exhale the rest. Notice how cleansing it feels to let it go. How the tension melts from your muscles every time you take a deep breath in…”

You inhale.

“…two three four…”

Hold it.

“…and slowly release it.”

Then exhale.

“Perfect. Keep doing that. Now imagine that every time you take a deep breath in, a warm wave washes over you… and as you slowly release it, the tide carries away tension, allowing your muscles to soften and relax…”

Each big lungful heats the tar holding your body together. You dissolve into the mattress as Dave’s deep, honeyed voice resonates through you.

“Again, take a deep breath in as the warm wave of relaxation washes over you, two three four… and slowly release it as the tide carries away your tension, allowing your muscles to soften and relax. Concentrate on my voice. Recognize it as a touchstone. If your mind starts to wander, have it return to the touchstone, return to my voice, and relax even deeper.”

Trees tower above you, stretching high into the pale blue sky. The moss-covered rock before you glows as he speaks.

“Notice how relaxed you feel. Notice that every time the warm wave of relaxation washes over you, two three four… tension melts from your body as you allow yourself to sink deeper and deeper into the sensation. Allow the relaxation to seep from your muscles into your bloodstream… to course through your veins and calm every cell in your body.

“Focus on your face. All those tiny little muscles in your forehead and around your eyes, notice how relaxed they are. Notice how the relaxation melts the muscles in your cheeks and jaw, letting your mouth go slack. You might feel as though you want to speak, but find yourself so relaxed that you can’t. That’s ok, because it feels good and safe to let the words dissolve on your tongue. Doesn’t it?”

When you try to respond, your lips don’t move. This fact doesn’t bother you. It feels good and safe in the forest, staring up at the treetops.

You realize you’re floating in a pond. You hear birds peacefully chirping and know it’s just you and them and the touchstone for a million miles.

Everything feels profound, but simple. You are small and big like a speck of dust or a galaxy. You are safe. You are at peace.

“Doesn’t it feel so good to relax, darling?”

Your fingertips rest against the soft moss of the touchstone.

“Yes, it does,” you tell it.

It glows with a satisfactory hum that vibrates through you.

“Perfect. Continue to focus on my voice. Soon, I will ask you to open your eyes, then close them. When you close your eyes, you’ll notice a warm wave of relaxation washing over you, turning knots into snarls and snarls into strands, every muscle in your body gently untangling as you allow them to go limp and heavy…”

You understand and follow his instructions.

“Open your eyes and take a deep breath in, two three four… and slowly release it, closing your eyes, letting the warm wave wash over you and pull you in deeper.

“Soon, I’ll ask you to open your eyes again. When you close them, you’ll notice the warm wave of relaxation wash over you even stronger than before, pulling you even deeper.

“Open your eyes, two three four… and close your eyes, sinking deeper and deeper. Good job. We’ll do it one more time, and when you close your eyes and relax, sink as deep as you can, all the way to the bottom. Open your eyes, two three four… and close your eyes.”

You’re lying in a meadow of wildflowers outside the forest, looking up at the serene blue sky. The earth beneath you is solid and brings you an immense sense of comfort.

“I want you to think about desire. Think about that warm, lush longing inside you. Concentrate on how good this sensation feels in your body, pleasure swelling thick at the center of you.”

His voice surrounds you, but you don’t see its source. The soothing timbre resonates from the wildflowers and the earth and the sky, from everywhere and nowhere all at once like how you imagine God sounded to Old Testament prophets.

You bring your focus to desire. It does feel good. Amazing, actually. Tangible like a glowing ball of heat between your thighs that throbs with each syllable he speaks.

“Allow the sensation to grow. Let it stretch and pulse and heat your skin. Let your mind empty of everything except this arousal. When thoughts arise, you let them fall away and arousal fills the empty space. You’ll let this happen over and over again until your head is empty of everything but arousal. Do you understand? You can speak now, darling, go ahead and answer.”

“Yes.”

“Try it for me.”

You acknowledge the cognitions that populate your mind. When you think about how you need to put gas in your car, you imagine the reminder dropping away, then imagine the warm wanting glow of desire branching up through your body to take its place. You think about a work project, but it loosens and falls into an abyss. Desire floods the space in its wake, a thick hot liquid that glows with light like lava, spreading to each new vacancy with ease as the thoughts drop from your consciousness.

“How does it feel?”

“Good,” you breathe, voice faint on your tingling tongue.

“Do you like how it feels, being horny and mindless?”

Your husband’s face appears, taking up your whole mind, then falls away. Rich, bubbling pleasure surges through you to fill the gap. You have to suppress a moan to respond.

“I like it,” you nod, “Fuck, it feels amazing.”

“Good girl. Now, you might notice something interesting happen when I ask you a question. You might notice that when I ask you a question, you’ll try to form a thought to answer. When you do this, you’ll feel my cock enter your mind. It’s bigger and harder than you’ve ever seen it, swollen and thick and so fucking ready for you, darling. When you try to form a thought, it pushes forward into the wet hot folds of your brain, severing the connections that typically allow you to think, preventing a response from forming. My cock pulls out, and slowly thrusts forward again, pushing out the thoughts, over and over for as long as you consider a response to my question. It becomes impossible to focus. You might notice that this penetration feels like it would in your pussy. My hard cock rutting in and out, sending waves of arousal through your body, fucking the thoughts from your head. Every time my cock moves, you’ll try to respond but cannot make yourself focus. It feels amazing. You give in to the sensation, allowing it to overtake you completely. When you’re fully saturated with arousal and nothing else, my cock pulls out of your mind.”

Your skin feels static and warm when you imagine him pushing his smooth, throbbing length into your brain. A shaky whimper croaks in your throat. Your heart thuds heavy within your chest, circulating desire, warm and wet, to every cell in your body.

“You might notice that when I ask you another question, any attempts at thought or sensations that come up except arousal will be fucked from your head until you surrender to the arousal. It feels good to be dominated in this way. To let pleasure consume your entire being.”

Licking your lips, you nod to show you understand.

“Now when I ask you a question, you’ll allow your subconscious to follow my instructions. Are you ready, darling?”

“Yes.”

“How was your day?”

When you try to recall your day and formulate an answer, the tip of his cock pierces the equator of your brain, splitting the hemispheres. He drives forward slowly, steadily, making you moan as he stretches you apart and tears all those delicate tissues that generate thought. Still, you try.

My day, how was my day…

He drags his cock out, then drives it deeper inside you.

Day… how was…

Your nerve endings buzz as he pulls out, gooey arousal shines on the shaft of his thick cock. He plunges forward into the hot center of you. You work your hips and whine. You can’t remember what he asked. It doesn’t seem as important as the pleasure clinging to your insides as he fucks you, so you give up.

His cock pulls out of your mind completely.

“What’s the weather supposed to be like tomorrow?”

You consider the question. The tip of him breaches your brain, forcing out forecasts and clouds and sunshine. Fragments return as you attempt to answer again.

The weather tomorrow…

He pumps in and out of you, obliterating whatever it was he wanted to know. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the insatiable pleasure thrumming through you as he rubs against all your hungry nerves, giving them what they want.

“Oh my god,” you hear yourself gasp.

“How often do you think about fucking me?”

Seeds of embarrassment sprout the tender beginnings of thought, then he fucks them out of your head until you’re rolling your hips, moaning and nodding for more.

“Do you make yourself come when you think about fucking me?”

Only a loading screen appears before he’s inside you again. His perfect, thick cock pumps you full of this throbbing heat. You wish it would never end. You want to feel this and only this forever.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl. So horny and mindless for me. Letting my cock push deep and hard into the folds of your brain, fucking out all your thoughts, leaving your head empty to stuff you with arousal until you’re swollen and ripe, nothing else left but how fucking horny you are.”

“Sssooooo fucking gooood,” you slur.

“How would your husband feel if he saw you like this? In this hotel room, all dressed up in lingerie I bought for you, moaning and writhing on the bed?”

A thought starts, and he pounds it out of you, merciless in its rhythm as each thrust pushes you higher and higher. Horny and mindless, that’s all you are. Nothing matters except this.

“Do you really think we’ll run away together? Do you really think I’d leave my wife for you?”

A rotten sensation tingles in your chest before you feel him enter you from both ends, the cock in your mind working in tandem with the cock in your pussy. You choke out a moan and nod, body vibrating with a thick, hot sensation you can’t find the beginning or end of.

“Fuck fuck fuck, holy fuck—”

He groans, rolling his hips faster, fucking your entire being so hard and fast that you become pleasure itself. It’s everything and everywhere for eternity and you gladly accept this fact, wanting to forever exist in this moment.

“That’s so good, darling. So fucking good. You want me to let you come, don’t you?”

You nod frantically as the edges of you start to fray.

“Go ahead, come for me.”

His permission completely unravels you, ripping away the last delicate thread holding you together. You sob as you fall apart into a thousand pieces. His hips stutter and he moans, giving you a few deep thrusts before pulling out.

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. You float in the peaceful pond, staring up at the towering treetops that kiss the sky.

“Now in a minute, I’ll bring you back to your normal state. When I count to four and tell you to wake up, you’ll come out of the trance relaxed and refreshed. Your mind will feel spotless. You’ll know that I adore you and hold you close to my heart.”

You hear birds peacefully chirping. You know it’s just you and them and Dave for a million miles. You are small and big like a speck of dust or a galaxy. You are safe. You are at peace.

“And one two three four… wake up.”

#dave york #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #whatsnewalycat writes

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thewertsearch · 4 months

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CG: I NEED YOU TO COME THROUGH FOR ME, BECAUSE WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF MANPOWER HERE. CT: D --> We are CG: YES DIDN'T I MENTION? FEFERI, KANAYA AND TAVROS ARE DEAD, SOLLUX IS UNCONSCIOUS, AND TEREZI IS MISSING.

It all fell apart so fast, didn't it?

One minute, he was sitting in the Veil’s rec room, bickering with Jade. The next, everything was blood and honking.

What the fuck happened to Kanaya.

You foolishly misplaced your glasses during your heroic revival attempt, leaving you with no way of communicating with the others to warn them.

Phew. You got me, Hussie.

But there is no one in here. Just someone taking a nap on the horn pile over there. And a big puddle of something next to the transportalizer.

We turned our back on Kanaya's body, and now it’s on the move.

Who’s the culprit, though? The only troll unstable enough to do this is probably Gamzee...

Are those.... fang marks?

KANAYA!!!

She's back!!

I mean, she's apparently a fucking vampire, but who gives a shit? We're back in business, baby!

Man, this is fucking random, isn't it? From where I'm sitting, it's come completely out of the blue. If it gets my girl back in the game, I'll take it, but how the hell does this even work?

I know Kanaya used to dream of being a vampire rainbow drinker, but dreams don't usually come true this easily. Alternia does have undead, so it's possible she was bitten before she Entered, but I would have expected her vampirism to have manifested much earlier in the session. She has always had pointed teeth, but I assumed it was just a natural trait in trolls.

Is it a Sylph thing, perhaps? The class is apparently 'more magical' than a Witch, so maybe Kanaya's latent magical abilities were triggered in death, restoring her to... undeath?

If that's true, though, then why a vampire? They don't have anything to do with Space, unless you count the fact that they're nocturnal, and thus active when the night sky is visible. I doubt that's even true for rainbow drinkers, who are probably diurnal.

Kanaya's thirst for fuchsia blood would suggest that her instincts have taken over for the time being. We won't really know how much self-control she has until she's face-to-face with a living troll, but I'm confident in her willpower.

That said... I'd absolutely love a villainous Kanaya. If she fully gave into her thirst, she'd be a bigger threat than all these idiots combined - especially if she has access to the traditional array of vampire powers.

Anyway, please excuse me as I pop the biggest bottles of champagne. Kanaya's back, baby!

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s124 #3431 #VINDICATION

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brazilian-vampyra · 2 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I'LL TRY TO FIX YOU

(english)

⿻ contains dark themes, if you don't feel comfortable, don't read it — ♡ ᵎᵎ

⿻ warnings: depressed!reader x killer!toji, strong language, blood, violence, mentions of past traumas ⤵

slowburn, sex, l-bomb, oral, toji smoking pot, lots of tears, age gap (toji is +30, reader is in her 20s), fem!reader, toji helping the reader to overcome this difficult situation — ♡ ᵎᵎ

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 was not always easy, you suffered a lot at the hands of others and were abandoned in an orphanage when you were a child. And it didn't take long for a family to adopt you.

But your rainbow was painted gray when you realized that family wouldn't give you the love you deserved. An abusive family that always puts you down. Even though they are rich and give you all the best, they neglected you all the years.

They didn't listen to your outbursts, they belittled your insecurities — and even increased them and caused many of them — and put you down when they could.

When you were around 13 years old you developed depression, and that feeling of sadness consume you day after day, becoming increasingly debilitating. This sadness and emptiness couldn't be normalized, but how were you to know it couldn't be?

You had no parameters and no family support.

With this lack of love and attention, you didn't have good relationships. You have fallen into the clutches of inhumane partners, that gave you crumbs of affection, and as a result you went through several toxic situations, leaving you alone all the fucking times.

Had God abandoned you? Could everyone live well but you would never have your happy ending?

Life was unfair, raw and fucked.

After some time with this emotional imbalance, death started to seem like a good thing. Maybe the best choice.

It was then that the crisis began, as well as the self-harm. The years of suffering accumulated scars on your skin, which became more covered every day by sweatshirts and jeans, as well as dark circles under your eyes.

You had already tried to end this suffering several times, but none of the ways worked.

━━ Am I too weak even for this? — you questioned yourself in a whisper between tears after a failed attempt.

Your parents were considerably powerful people in the commercial world, perhaps they got money in a dirty way and ran some nasty scheme to accumulate those digits in the bank account.

Since your childhood, you would hear suspicious conversations in the room, with strange people in meetings over cigars and expensive wine. The mansion had many security guards, it even looked like they were the president and the first lady of the country.

You never understood the reason for this excessive security. What were they so afraid of?

One night, you were wrapped in a blanket, lying in bed and looking at the wall while thinking about nothing. Your mind was as empty as the bottles of champagne they popped on the weekends.

Maybe this would be a good time to end this once and for all. Then you walked to the balcony of your room, which overlooked the backyard, and felt the cold breeze kiss your sad face.

You sat there and looked at the floor. It was very high. Tears began to flow down your face unconsciously, you felt incapable even at that moment.

That's when you heard a strange noise coming from the garden.

Then everything was silent again, it was okay, it shouldn't be anything you need to worry about.

After a few minutes, you heard a loud, terrified scream coming from your mother on the first floor, and then the sound of gunshots. It made you look back and wonder what could be happening.

In less than a minute, your bedroom door opened and you flinched in fright.

There was a peculiar man, you had never seen him in your life. Tall, muscular, dark hair, green eyes that made him look like a natural predator, black clothes, scar on his lip, skin covered in blood, a gun on his waist and he was holding something that looked like a sword with a chain.

Your tearful eyes met his cold gaze, and you felt a chill run through your body. Maybe it was the cold of the night breeze, or the fear of this stranger, but you didn't want to think about anything else and immediately jumped.

In an almost supernatural way, the stranger had crossed your vast room in a second and was now on the balcony. He grabbed you by the waist mid-air and pulled you back.

It's not possible that you were going to die at the hands of a stranger when you finally found the courage that was missing in you.

You began to struggle in the stranger's muscular arms, but he was too strong and was pulling you away from the balcony. The iron smell of blood was filling your nostrils and you felt like vomiting.

━━ Let me fucking jump, take your dirty hands out of me!

He didn't say anything, and he didn't even make an effort to keep you quiet. When suddenly he pulled something out of his pocket like a cloth that was placed on your nose and you started to feel your eyelids get heavy.

You didn't see much and you didn't hear much either, but you opened your eyes slightly and saw how he carried you in his arms like a bride, dodging the corpses of the security guards on the ground, the result of the bloody scene he caused.

The next day, you woke up.

You were in a considerably comfortable bed in a dimly lit room. The dark curtains hid the light from the cold day outside, but you could hear some car horns, the sound of an ambulance, a motorcycle accelerating, sounds of the avenue.

When suddenly, a male voice was heard outside the room, followed by another male voice.

━━ Why didn't you kill the girl too?

━━ The ad asked for her parents' heads, not hers.

━━ Are you going to babysit a grown woman? I'm not judging but I didn't expect that from you.

━━ I know how to handle myself, Shiu. Don't worry.

And then a door closed, probably the main one and the other man left. It was then that you heard the sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway, until the doorknob turned and that muscular man from yesterday entered.

You closed your eyes and tried to hide it, but it didn't work.

━━ You don't have to pretend to be asleep.

You slowly opened your eyes and noticed that he was wearing gray sweatpants and a black compression shirt. That skin was no longer stained with last night's thick blood.

Instead of saying anything, you remained sullen and quiet, like a helpless animal.

━━ I’m Toji Fushiguro.

He offered his hand to you, and yet reluctant and uncertain, you decided to hold it and shake it. The skin on his palm wasn't as soft as yours. It was calloused, a little harsh, the hands of a blacksmith.

━━ You didn't kill me yesterday, you just killed my parents. Why?

━━ By the look on your face, I must say I did you a favor.

━━ You're a hitman, aren't you?

━━ I think this is kind of obvious, but yes.

He went to the window to open the curtains and let in the gray daylight.

━━ Why aren't there bars on the windows?

━━ 'Cause this isn't a kidnapping, perhaps?

You found the man's actions quite strange and the way he was reacting to you.

━━ Look, why don't you get up and go down the street with me? We’ll go to the market.

He grabbed a pair of all stars and placed them next to the bed before leaving the room. You noticed it was yours, and on a chair was your backpack. Had he prepared a backpack with your things? That's weird.

You accepted what he had said and put on your sneakers, before leaving the room. He was in the apartment's kitchen, near the counter, taking out his wallet and keys.

━━ Here, have a glass of water first.

He took a bottle from the fridge and poured water into a glass for you. You took it and so you went to the market.

It was so strange to be on the street now, and that giant man seemed to be your bodyguard. How long has it been since you were outside? Depression has made you give up on leaving your room, so going for a walk was very weird.

On the market everything went well, it was much more normal than you had imagined. He didn't leave your side for a long time but it wasn't like he was suffocating you with his presence.

At a certain point he went to the fruits and vegetables area.

━━ I'm terrible at choosing these things, would you like to help me?

You helped him choose the best. For someone with a physique like that he was very lost on how to buy this kind of healthy food. Then you went back to the apartment, and he started taking some things out of the bags.

━━ Can you bathe alone or do you need help?

You didn't respond, what response should you give?

He sighed.

━━ I'm going to assume you need help. C’mon.

He led the way, heading to the apartment's bathroom. It had a bathtub, shower, a good-sized mirror, grayish stone sink, black carpet that absorbs water.

Toji bent down next to the bathtub and turned on the taps, so it started to fill. You took the opportunity to start taking off your clothes, even though you were embarrassed. First you took off your black hoodie.

He turned back and noticed that your arms and thighs were in a sad state. Your skin was wrapped in white bandages, completely stained with blood.

After all, you were alike in something. Both of you wore black clothes to hide the blood. Him for one reason, you for another but with the same purpose.

━━ After the bath I'll take care of it.

He rolled up his sleeves and dipped his forearm in the water to make sure it was at an ideal temperature for you. You then got into the bathtub, sitting down slowly and after taking off the bandages.

The water made it burn a little, and although it wasn't bleeding like before, your dermis was exposed with crimson marks.

━━ These cuts are deep…

That's what he said, before picking up a brand new bottle of shampoo. It smelled like honey.

━━ I know…

You felt ashamed of yourself for being in this situation. When did you get this bad?

He remained silent, after seeing how you shyly hugged your knees. You felt the honey-scented shampoo being poured onto the top of your head, then he could massage your scalp with the strong pads of his thick fingers. It was the most peaceful bath you've ever had in your life. There was a strange man — maybe not so strange after all — washing your hair, while putting liquid soap on your hands so that you could wash your body by yourself.

At the end of the bath, he took a very long, dark gray towel and asked you to stand up. Toji rolled you up like a package and took you out of the bathtub, placing you standing on the rug.

━━ Can you dry yourself? I'll get the medicine and your clothes, I'll be right back so I can take care of this.

You nodded and began to dry your body carefully. It hurt a lot and you had to do it carefully, patting it lightly with the soft fabric of the towel. And soon he was back. You felt so useless, you couldn't even clean yourself properly.

Within a few seconds, Toji knelt in front of you and grabbed a pair of panties for you to wear. The man's strong, calloused hands slid the fabric up your legs, carefully moving up until he could finally dress you. He also handed you a random blouse that he had gotten from your closet yesterday and you got dressed.

━━ I'll start with the thighs, okay? It will burn a little.

With that said, he took some medicine and started applying it to start cleaning the cuts. It burned a little, but it was bearable, even though you grimaced and suppressed a groan.

━━ I know it hurts, I’m sorry.

You endured the pain and so he cleaned the deep cuts on your thighs, applying antiseptic spray before wrapping them in white bandages again. Now he had gotten up and was cleaning your arms so he could repeat the process.

After this whole process, he combed your hair gently with a blue comb that was in a bathroom drawer. You were showered, completely clean, with new bandages and your hair smelled good.

That afternoon Toji tried his best to make you some good food. He wasn't much of a cook, as he didn't have much time for it and didn't even care about eating healthy. But he sautéed some vegetables and greens, along with some pieces of tender meat, and used olive oil.

Even though the kitchen was a little far away, he could see that you were sitting on the sofa in the living room, silently, looking at your bandages. Yeah, you looked like a mummy now with that brand new tape. And your empty eyes were between looking at your arms and thighs and looking at the huge window that overlooked the street.

━━ C’mon. Open wide.

He said, holding a white bowl in his hands and using a fork to feed you.

━━ What do you like to eat? I can try to do whatever you like.

━━ Good question.

It's not that you developed an eating disorder during depression, but you definitely no longer had an interest in food. You ate, but you ate less because the food suddenly became uninteresting. You only ate for the sake of eating, you no longer had the happiness of eating sweets, for example, you only ate on "automatic mode”.

It was as if you couldn't taste the acidity of a kiwi, or the sweetness of a papaya. The bitter taste of unsweetened coffee, or the tenderness of meat cooked with potatoes. Suddenly, food became just food, everything with a universal flavor like bland, edible pasta.

He was well aware of your depression, and he knew he would help you.

After that day, you started living with Toji in that apartment. The place was very clean and considerably large; well maintained. He took care of you, until you were able to shower yourself, feed yourself and many other things. Not to mention that he had also noticed the way you looked sad at your cuts with that white bandage, and that's why he always bought different bandages at the pharmacy.

Some were teddy bears stamped, others dinosaurs, even some little hearts. Somehow, he just wanted you to feel more comfortable in your own skin.

He took you out for ice cream, walked in the park, let you put whatever you wanted in the grocery cart, bought you new clothes and everything. You also got to know Shiu Kong, who "monitored" you sometimes when Toji needed to work.

The killer was still afraid that you would freak out and throw yourself out of a window.

This man slept on the sofa in the living room, which was actually a sofa bed. He always preferred to leave the bed in the room to you, even if it was a double bed but he wanted you to have your personal space. After all, it was a difficult stage in your life, and you were in the process of healing.

Your cuts, which were deep, were finally healing, leaving scars on the skin. Your dark circles were disappearing and your face was getting more colorful again, becoming healthier and brighter.

After a few months, you were much better than before. Not completely healed, in fact it was far from it, but you felt like you were slowly coming out of rock bottom.

Toji Fushiguro and you hardly spoke to each other. You only spoke the essentials, but it wasn't in a strange way that didn't make you create intimacy. And every time he arrived after a murder you were already in the warmth of your covers, in a peaceful sleep, late at night.

However, this time you were awake, as you had gone to the kitchen to get a glass of water. You heard the key turn in the door handle, and saw him enter immediately without turning on a single light. The iron smell of viscous blood entered your nostrils.

━━ Goodnight.

━━ Goodnight. I didn't mean to wake you…

━━ It's okay. I was awake — you said. ━━ Are you fine?

━━ Don't worry- oof. I’ll be fine, go back to sleep.

You looked for the switch and turned on the light in the living room, seeing what you already imagined. The blood stuck to the fabric of the shirt on his body, and made you notice a wet spot right next to the rib. You sighed when you saw him like that, you had never seen him hurt during all this time. The frown remained on his face, as if he was incapable of feeling pain, but you knew it was really sore.

━━ Hm… you can… take a shower and come back. I’ll wait for you here.

Apparently the older man had understood what you meant, and oddly enough he didn't complain or question it. You already knew where the first aid kit was and some other medicines were, so you took the white suitcase from a closet in the bedroom and went back to the couch. Toji didn't take long to shower, and apparently he had taken a cold shower because his skin was refreshing, and you smelled a very peculiar perfume. A woody perfume, striking with some notes of something expensive.

It was there that night that you saw him shirtless for the first time, wearing only black sweatpants and leaving a large part of his ripped body exposed. There was a huge cut on his rib, but he was calm, as if he didn't feel anything.

He sat on the sofa and you started cleaning it very well so that it didn't get worse.

You poured some alcohol on the cut, and it remained motionless. It must have burned a lot, but you couldn't tell if he didn't feel it or if he managed to hide it very well.

━━ You know you could be in bed right now, don't you? — his harsh tone of voice was already familiar. ━━ You could be having your princess sleep.

━━ You always took care of me. Is it hard to let me take care of you?

He said something like "hm" and decided not to answer the question, keeping quiet and letting you finish taking care of that wound. In the end he practically whispered a "thank you" and you were minimally happy with that, going to the bedroom again to finish your night's sleep.

A few weeks passed and you were getting a little closer, maybe tending to his injuries was enough for him to understand that at the end of the day, you were similar. One night you woke up crying after a horrible nightmare, and Toji came to your room to comfort you. The man sat in a chair next to you so you could go back to sleeping peacefully in that huge bed.

Well, you didn't say anything else about that night, and maybe it wasn't necessary.

One night when he didn't have any work, he was on the living room balcony, smoking something that wasn't an ordinary cigarette. The peculiar aroma entered your nostrils and you could recognize: he was indeed smoking pot. Sitting on a small sofa there, enjoying the night breeze and watching the city lights in the distance in the dark. You shyly approached, and he noticed how you looked.

━━ Come here… — he patted where you were supposed to sit, right next to him. ━━ I won't bite.

Somewhat awkwardly, you approached and sat down, watching him bring the cigarette to his lips and inhale the smoke.

━━ Toji…

━━ Hm?

━━ Can I ask you something?

He nodded.

━━ That night... why did you save me?

━━ Because the deal asked for your parents' death, not yours.

━━ But you wouldn't gain anything by saving me…

He finished releasing the thick smoke through his lips and a slightly uncomfortable and heavy silence fell between the two of you. Fushiguro looked up at the starry sky for a few seconds before sighing and speaking again.

━━ You know, girl. When I looked into your eyes that night, I saw myself.

You remained silent, trying to understand.

━━ When I was younger, people threw me into a pit full of curses as punishment… that was the damn day I had to learn to be strong. I was fragile, innocent and people made me cry a lot.

What a sad story. You never imagined that someone like him had gone through something like this.

━━ With this scar here — he pointed to his own lips. ━━ I became who I am today… — powerful words. ━━ And looking into your eyes, somehow I saw the same look I had. The same look of trauma, sadness, disappointment…

A few tears were gathering in your eyes.

━━ Fuck, I mean I couldn't understand why people who were supposed to protect and love me were hurting me so much. And in your eyes I could see myself.

Well, he talked more than he should have and shut up once and for all, but his eyes widened, as he heard a crying sob and looked at you, watching two tears running down your cheek perfectly. You weren't crying because of sadness, after many years you were crying because of something good. Although you couldn't identify this feeling very well, was sure it was something good.

Had he felt connected to you somehow? Did he understand your pain?

You had finally found someone as broken as you, but who hid it and played strong, so that you could rebuild yourself.

Instinctively Toji opened his arms and made to hug you, but he stopped himself because he didn't know if you would be comfortable with that. His look of hesitation was like a request for permission, and without even thinking you fell against his strong chest, crying into his white t-shirt, as his strong arms wrapped around your body weakened by tangible emotions. He hugged you tightly and remained silent, allowing you to cry in peace.

How long has it been since you received a hug?

Even more of a hug like this, comforting and true. The kind of hug where you can feel the heat of the person's body and feel safe and protected.

━━ Why do people always hurt me, Toji? Why? — you said, sobbing.

━━ Because empty and futile people need to hurt people around them to increase their ego and pretend to fill the void — he brought a hand to your head, lightly stroking your hair. ━━ Idiot people will always want to hurt amazing people. But look…

He distanced himself a little and cupped your chin lightly with his thumb, making you look up, eyes bathed in sadness.

━━ That night I held you, and I promise I'll never let you go.

Those were the most sincere and pure words anyone had ever said to you. You didn't care if they came from the mouth of a man who got blood on his hands, he was honest with you.

Suddenly, looking into those beautiful green eyes you felt a strange attraction. And apparently he felt it too, because he hadn't taken his thumb off your chin and was looking at you with complete compassion. You sighed heavily, your eyes teary and shyly brought your face closer to his. That was what Fushiguro needed to be able to bring his face closer to yours and finally touch your lips with his.

His lips were warm and soft, and you felt his scar but it didn't bother you, it was just different.

Toji then slid his tongue across your lips slowly, and you gave in. Now your tongues were touching and you brought your shaky hands to his face, while more tears rolled down your cheeks. You were crying with happiness knowing you were savoring a kiss, it wasn't just any kiss like all the others in your life, this one was real. He felt your nervousness and held your shaking hands, making you feel the warmth of his, as he put them on his shoulders so you could get some support.

It wasn't a needy kiss, it was slow. But certainly intense.

It was then that your relationship with Toji became more serious, more sentimental, more romantic. Now he slept with you in bed, hugging you so you felt safe, or bringing you to his chest so you could enjoy as a pillow. Your cuts were already well healed but the scars would remain on your body forever and were evident. That was horrible, you bitterly regretted having cut your flesh in moments of anger and sadness, but there was nothing you could do at that time, especially without support.

Some nights, he would come back exhausted after executing a few kills, and all he needed was to collapse into your arms and rest his head in your lap. Despite his size and strength, he was still a little fragile.

And he knew how to be delicate.

Proof of this was when the kisses became too intense and evolved into sex. I mean, he always tried his best to control himself and let you take your time. Fushiguro didn't want to pressure you into anything, he didn't want to take you to bed right away.

Giving yourself over to him was certainly one of the best decisions you had made.

That night, he gently held you in his strong arms and covered you with kisses so you could relax and enjoy the moment. You had already fucked a few times with some idiots but all of them were without much desire, just done for their please. But with Toji it was different, completely different.

You were sitting on his lap while you kissed intensely, moaning against each other's mouths and he took off your blouse, making your bare chest rest against his, which also no longer had any fabric inhibiting it. The man leaned you back a little and took the opportunity to kiss your arms, especially your scars. Goddamn, he was so fucking gentle.

The delicate kisses went to your chest, radiating tremendous heat through your body. So was that desire? The real desire?

He kissed your breasts and sucked them eagerly, causing some popping noises throughout the room along with your moans. He groaned against your skin and a trickle of saliva connected his lips to your nipple as he looked up.

━━ So soft…

Suddenly, you were already lying on the bed and he was kissing your thighs, caressing your scars. The thin fabric of your panties was already completely soaked by that liquid desire that dripped down your sex. Your legs were thrown around his strong shoulders as his hot kisses were dangerously close to your most sensitive spot.

━━ I’m probably all fucked with those scars…

You ended up leaving that comment on the air and Toji licked your clit through your panties, making you moan loudly.

━━ My love, sex is not a show. We don't have to be perfect all the time…

He placed a kiss over the thin fabric and then slid his huge hands around your waist, lowering and finally removing your panties. When you were completely naked, you felt a little ashamed, yes, but not that horrible feeling of wanting to cover yourself immediately.

Toji watched you as if you were a work of art; and to him you really were.

━━ Let me just take care of you, okay? Let me do my best for you…

The words spoken in a hoarse tone entered your ears and that was more than enough for you to enjoy this fantastic feeling.

Toji simply devoured you with an immense desire, and you squeezed his hair at times to be able to control your own body due to the stimuli. He held your thighs with his big, strong hands, squeezing a little so he could rub his face more against your wet spot just like his nose rubbed your clit. While he was eating you out, he grinded his hips against the mattress looking for some relief, ‘cuz those panties were so damn tight, his cock was throbbing.

For the love of the gods, he was splendid, simply perfect.

And besides giving you so much pleasure with his tongue, he also held your body tenderly that night, fucking you in the most affectionate way possible. He placed one of your legs on his shoulder and placed a small kiss on your ankle as he held it close to your thigh and was grinding his hips against you. Fushiguro's moans were profane, as profane as the image of him naked and slightly sweaty reflected in the dim light of the nightstand lamp.

The messy dark hair, the striking scar on his lip, the striking green eyes… wow, that's a sight to behold.

You couldn't tell if that was for the best, or if it was him fucking you in missionary, keeping your legs tightly crossed around his strong hips, as he was just feeling your warm pussy milking his cock while he intertwined his fingers with yours against the mattress. He kissed you in a way that took your breath away; that was a needy kiss.

You came like never before in your life, you had never come so hard like this. And this man did it effortlessly, just by touching you in the right spots and making you scream and beg for more.

Okay, that was a night to remember.

You were now officially his girlfriend. And you had finally found someone who could rebuild you while giving you the opportunity to put the pieces together to understand the complex puzzle that he was. Every day he surprised you more, and made you feel truly loved, truly wanted.

He kept buying you clothes, washing your hair with your favorite shampoo, taking you to amazing places and giving you affection. Especially liked lying in bed with him and putting your hand over his, which was much bigger compared to yours. That hand that caressed your body and also killed people for money.

Two mentally broken people who finally intertwined fingers and decided to walk this path of life together. This brings a reflection. The romance between a murderer and a suicidal is intriguing, isn't it?

He would kill for you. You would die for him.

[...]

𑊁📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: random idea i had on a sleepless night, forgive any grammar mistakes.

XOXO little bats, kisses that taste like type o negative 💋

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x female reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fanfic #toji fushigro x reader #toji headcanons #toji angst #hades vampirona 🤸🏻‍♀️#hades writes

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annievrse · 1 year

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boyfriend!eren headcanons (summer edition)

—ᡣ𐭩 headcanons a/n: it is currently winter in aus, but i need summer eren rn in my room asap c/w: some suggestive but not that bad

boyfriend!eren walks around shirtless 24/7

boyfriend!eren gets so tan in the sun, he is golden!!

boyfriend!eren wears white swimming shorts, the reallyyyy short ones. lord. (he has 3 pairs of the same ones)

boyfriend!eren complains about sand in his hair nonstop (it’s his fault for laying on the sand instead of on a towel next to you!!!)

boyfriend!eren digs holes in the sand when he’s bored (e.g. waiting for you to finish your chapter/sunbathing/napping—he can’t nap on the sand, hence why he starts digging and building sand hills HASHDJAH)

boyfriend!eren volunteers to put sunscreen on you just so he can cop a feel (gets distracted and rubs the lotion into your back for literally 9 minutes)

when boyfriend!eren orders ice cream, he gets cookie dough or chocolate, sometimes the rainbow kids one

and when boyfriend!eren buys you ice cream, he will ask if he can taste yours and take the biggest bite :( in return, he lets you do the same to his <3

boyfriend!eren tucks a tshirt in the back of his shorts

boyfriend!eren wears birks 🫣 (hot)

boyfriend!eren will pull you underwater by your ankles if you aren’t careful, so keep an eye on him at all times when in the water with him

boyfriend!eren’s hair goes curly from the salt water and you have rinse it out for him in the beach showers otherwise it gets all tangled and frizzy

boyfriend!eren eats any melon like it’s his last meal, especially at the beach and on the boat. bring a container of it (or just an entire melon and a spoon) and he will go to town (the juice from the melon always drips from his chin onto his bare chest — just gonna leave you with that one)

boyfriend!eren is actually good at beach sports, so when you go with your friends, expect a game of beach football, with you on opposite teams because sasha and connie said it was unfair :/

boyfriend!eren in sunglasses >>>

boyfriend!eren drives jean’s boat (he won rock, paper, scissors at the start of summer)

boyfriend!eren DRIVES THE BOAT 😵‍💫

boyfriend!eren can wakeboard and wakesurf and looks hot doing it

boyfriend!eren wears a wide brimmed straw hat whenever on the boat because he’s cute ok

boyfriend!eren isn’t allowed to control the music on the boat or at the beach (group rules)

boyfriend!eren has to have you on his lap whenever he can’t be bothered to drive the boat anymore, and puts his hat on your head (you look so cute he could DIE)

boyfriend!eren fishes off the side of the boat with jean & armin, waits until he gets a bite, and then drags you in front of him to let you reel it in

boyfriend!eren has a photo of you holding the fish he you caught as his lock screen lmao

boyfriend!eren always throws the fish back though!!!!

boyfriend!eren buys you a pool float for the lake (it’s always something random like a watermelon (his obsession continues…), a flamingo, a champagne bottle etc etc)

boyfriend!eren inevitably pops said pool float when he backflips from the boat onto it :/

boyfriend!eren and jean want photos, they want paparazzi!!!!, when they do simultaneous backflips off the side of the boat and they always make the instagram

boyfriend!eren roasts marshmallows and tries to feed them to you but he burns them to a literal crisp so you roast your own (makes him pouty)

but boyfriend!eren gets over it when you feed marshmallows to him that aren’t burnt to a crisp <3

boyfriend!eren and connie (and sometimes jean if he’s drunk enough) will jump over the fire because they are shitheads (they only get one go each before everyone stops them)

boyfriend!eren gets all warm and cuddly when he’s drunk (after his usual unhinged activities with connie) so expect him to lay all over you when you’re around the fire

boyfriend!eren gets a sunburnt back and shoulders so you gotta sit on his bum and rub aloe vera everywhere while he whines about the pain

boyfriend!eren posts an end-of-summer dump and 6/10 photos are of you <3 (the rest consist of: his and jean’s backflip; a photo of him, mikasa, and armin around the campfire; him and connie clinking beer bottles; and him, armin, jean, and connie around a pool table: eren smiling wide with a single backwards rock and roll hand sign (he’s winning), armin with a smile and thumbs up, jean emotionless holding his pool cue (he’s losing), and connie with double middle fingers, his pool cue falling mid-air)

#guysssss i want one 😵‍💫#eren jaeger #eren jaeger imagine #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager imagines #eren jeager x reader #eren yaeger imagine #eren yaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #— ann writes!

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bow-n-scales · 7 months

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oddly specific things that remind me of the children of the gods <3

children of ares: the click of a lighter, getting clothing caught on doorknobs and furniture edges, layered necklaces, beat up combat boots, brutal honesty, raucous laughter, chipped mugs, calloused hands, adrenaline rushes, tough exterior soft interior, meticulously polished armour and weapons

children of athena: grandfather clocks’ chimes, olive martinis, secret rooms behind bookshelves, “reading is sexy” tshirts, deserted museums, paper cuts, tea stains, intricately carved sword hilts, golden war helms, calculative gazes

children of apollo: whiskey-coloured eyes, chrysanthemum tea, badges/pins EVERYWHERE, dandelion fields, sandcastles, colourful bracelets, knowledge of music theory, perfect pitch, fireflies, band-aids with smiley faces, tie-dye shirts

children of artemis: metallic clothing, ripped jeans, dagger strapped to inside of thigh, gazing at the constellations, lumberjack plaid shirts, running barefoot underneath the moon, long braided hair (eg. katniss everdeen), sharp eyeliner and even sharper gazes, white platinum/silver jewellery, temporary tattoos, cd collection

children of hephaestus: worn-out headphones, crooked grins, cassette tapes, fireworks, drawers overflowing with tools, LEGO sets, neon signs, mismatched gears, bandaged thumbs (accidents happen sometimes & that’s okay), volcanic-like fury, being up-to-date with all technology-related news

children of iris: stained glass windows, skittles, bracelet beads, marshmallows, kaleidoscopes, cotton candy at carnivals, misty weather, coins at the bottom of fountains, bright eyeshadow, rainbow garlands, fogged-up windows with tiny drawings

children of aphrodite: polished sea glass, vintage avon perfume bottles, decorated handwritten letters, overflowing closets, femme fatale energy, sofia coppola archive, wild rose bushes, lipstick stains, eclectic decorations, chainmail armour, ever-changing fashion styles

children of hypnos: lavender spray bottles, fluffy slippers, liminal dreams, ticking clocks, stretching after a good nap, valais blacknose sheep, the smell of fresh linen, pillows that are cold on both sides, sleeping through thunderstorms, oil lanterns, customised sleep masks

children of nike: golden laurels, confident smirks, unending courage and determination, gold medallions, glorious ballrooms, the stinging feeling of disappointment after losing something, wars over uno, polished trophies and medals, an obsession with Nike sportswear, track and field competitions, feathered capes

children of hebe: tea sets, skincare routines, pansies, overflowing chalices, healed inner child, satin gowns, doe eyes, ribbons braided into hair, champagne towers, bubble guns, butterfly emblems

⋆˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ requests are open!!

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gnrbitch · 1 year

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Grunge Days pt.23 - Whiskey In a Jar

Warnings: a little smut

————

1992

“Y/n!” A voice called behind the girl.

Y/n was sitting at the bar section at the Rainbow, JD bottle sitting in front of her, a cigarette in her hand. She turned around when she heard the voice call her name.

“Oh shit, Hey Kirk” She smiled at him, eyes following his movements.

He smiled as he sat next to her, “How’ve you been? You look good”

Y/n let out a laugh “I’ve been good” “You look pretty good yourself”

“Oh pretty good?” He raised his eyebrows “Try again”

Playfully rolling her eyes, a smile graced her face once again “You look very good Kirk” she emphasized “Good enough to eat”

“Eat huh?” Kirk said, his voice flirtatious.

Laughing, she pushed her bottle to him “Maybe”

Y/n and Kirk had never been like this towards each other, they really haven’t spoken much either. The only time they do is when they catch each other and their bands at some festival or something. But they never had sent each other sexual glances, flirted with each other, or…

Leaning into him as Y/n laughed at some shit he had said, she sighed as she looked at him.

Kirk smiled as his eyes scanned Y/ns face, “I always thought you were so pretty”

Looking at Kirk with her ‘Sexy but really just super drunk and horny’ eyes, “Is that so?” she said, moving one of her hands to the back of his neck.

Lazily smiling, Kirk nodded his head before he leaned in.

Kirks warm lips lightly pressed into Y/ns, then looking into her eyes as their noses brushed against each others, he leaned back in, deepening the kiss this time.

The hand Y/n had on Kirks neck, moved up to his hair as she lightly pulled on it. Kirk groaned into her mouth, pulling away he asked “Wanna go back to my place?”

“Yea” Y/n smiled, breathlessly.

Walking out the club, Kirks arm was wrapped around Y/ns waist, that same hand touching down her thigh. Y/ns arms were wrapped around his shoulders as she playfully bit his ear.

Kirk smiled and turned to look at her, licking her lips before kissing them.

Laughing into the kiss, Y/n broke away from it as they made their way into Kirks car. (He had a personal driver okay😍)

Kirk opened the back door and let Y/n go in first, then sitting besides her.

Pulling her onto his lap, he reached to the cup holder in front of him, and pulled out a bottle of champagne.

Y/ns eyebrows raised, letting a little laugh out “Champane? Really?”

“Hey” Kirk said, opening the bottle “I get fancy sometimes”

Y/n laughed as Kirk put the bottle to her mouth, “Drink”

Filling her mouth with the it, Y/n grabbed Kirks face and opened his mouth, then tilted his head as she spilled it into his mouth.

Kirk swallowed then forcefully attached his lips back onto Y/ns, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

One of Kirks hands slithered their way down to Y/ns thighs, getting closer and closer to where she needed him most.

Y/n let out a groan when she felt Kirks fingers brushing against her underwear.

Smiling against her mouth, Kirk moved Y/ns underwear to the side, rubbing two of his fingers in between her folds. “Open” He said, bringing his fingers which were covered in her slick, to her mouth.

Gently grabbing his hand, she used her tongue lick them first, then sucking on them.

“There you go” Kirk said, his voice deep and eyes full of desire.

Rubbing her eyes, Y/n sat up from where she was laying. Letting her eyes adjust to the sun, she looked around to where she was.

This must be Kirks room She thought, looking around at all the horror inspired things in his room. Reminds me of Slash

Her feet touched the ground, looking around the floor to find her clothes, eventually just throwing on a shirt she found. Remembering her clothes must be in the living room.

Kirk wasn’t in the room when Y/n woke up, so she went downstairs, to see him making tea.

“Tea?” He asked, without looking back at her.

“Sure, yea” Y/n responded smiling at him when he looked back.

“I was waiting for you to wake up” Kirk said “You’re a heavy sleeper”

“Am I?” Y/n asked

“Yea, i tried waking you up” He said “I thought you were dead for a moment”

Laughing, Y/n rolled her eyes “If you want me out just say that”

“No!” Kirk quickly said, “No” he laughed “They just showed something on tv that i thought you’d wanna see”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows “What was it?”

Kirk nudged his head over to the Tv, Y/n turned her head to look. A few music topics, and…

Her and Kirk. Walking outside the club. Her and Kirk kissing. “Seems like these two metal guitarist are getting steamy huh?”. The host said

Y/ns eyes widened “Holy shit”

“That’s exactly what i said” Kirk laughed “Its all good though, people will forget about it by tomorrow”

“Can’t believe we’re the gossip topic for today” Y/n laughed in disbelief.

“Yea don’t worry” Kirk pointed to the Tv again, “We’re not the only ones”

Guitarist Slash and soon to be ex-wife Renee are getting divorced!

Y/ns heart dropped “Slash’s getting divorced?” she mumbled

“I know right, Shortest marriage ever”

“Yea” Y/n said quietly “Hey look- i gotta go” She said, looking at Kirk.

“Why?” Kirk asked

“I- I forgot i had a studio session soon” Y/n said, getting up from the chair she was seated on.

“Oh, alright then” Kirk smiled “I had a good time last night”

Y/n paused, looking at Kirk “Me too” She smiled

“I’ll see you another time?”

“Of course you will” Y/n smiled, waving to Kirk as he stood at his doorway.

————

Just started college and i might explode sorry for the slow updates guys i’ve been so stressed i literally have two anatomy quizzes this week please pray for me 😭😭🙏🙏🙏

Tagged: @hoodiesandicedcoffee @eddiiiieeee @killazilla777 @kirksfunkopop

#slash #axl rose #guns n' roses #duff mckagan #guns n roses fanfic #izzy stradlin #slash gnr #slashfanfic #guns n roses imagine #slash fanfiction

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tailoredshirt · 2 years

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FIC: As long as it’s with you (TK/Carlos, PG-13)

TK just wanted their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple to be special.

Unfortunately they spend it in the ER.

1.3k // PG-13 // AO3

Written for @strandbuckley for the @tarlosweeklyprompts Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange! I hope you like it. <3 Thank you to @finetune for all of her assistance and hand holding.

—

“All right,” Dana said, removing the tourniquet from TK’s finger. “Keep your hand in the air and apply pressure to the wound…just like that.” She gave TK a wry smile. “It’s almost like you’ve done this before.”

TK laughed. “Yeah, although I think I like it better when I’m not the one losing a finger.”

“Stop being dramatic,” she said, tossing a bandage wrapper into the garbage. “It’s not the whole finger.”

TK looked up at his hand, which he was still holding up in the air. “Still managed to ruin my night.”

Dana rolled backwards in her chair to put back a roll of tape, then rolled back to TK. “Big plans?”

“No. Yes.” He glanced at his phone, where he and Carlos smiled up at him, dressed in their tuxes. “First Valentine’s Day since my husband and I got married.”

“Pic?” Dana asked. Her eyebrows went up when TK showed her the lockscreen on his phone. “Nice.”

“Right?” TK said, setting the phone back down. “But he drew the short straw and had to work this year, so I thought I would make dinner. You know, surprise him when he got home.” He sighed. “This was not the surprise I had in mind.”

“Well, if it helps, you’re not the only mandolin accident of the evening.” Dana checked on TK’s hand and seemed satisfied that he was doing a good job of keeping pressure on the wound. “Hang tight. I’m going to get your discharge paperwork.”

“Thanks.”

TK leaned back against the wall and looked down at his phone. His dad had texted him, asking how dinner had turned out. The last thing TK had texted him was a picture of a small pile of fresh vegetables he had picked out at the farmer's market. He'd been so excited that afternoon, sending Carlos 'sorry you're stuck at work babe :( we'll celebrate this weekend' texts while picking out fresh scallops and a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne.

Not great, he told his dad. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he tried to decide how much to tell him. Should've stuck with pasta.

Suddenly the door opened, and Carlos popped his head in, his eyes big with worry behind his glasses. “Hey.”

TK sat up straighter in his chair. “Hi, baby.”

Carlos sat down next to him, smelling very faintly of the light cologne he wore to work. He took the arm TK was holding up to inspect the bandaged finger. "What'd they say?"

TK shrugged. "It'll heal but it'll take a few weeks. I’ll just have to change the bandage."

Carlos nodded. “Why are you holding your hand up like this?”

“To make sure it stops bleeding.”

Carlos looked stricken, and TK grabbed his other hand. “Hey, it’s fine. I probably could have treated it at home—”

“No,” Carlos said firmly.

“—but I knew you’d want me to get it checked out,” TK said, smiling softly.

Carlos still looked unhappy, but his posture relaxed. He continued to hold TK's hand up for him. "What were you doing with the mandolin anyway? You never use it."

TK sighed. "I was trying to cook dinner. For Valentine's," he added unnecessarily.

Carlos blinked at him. "For me?"

"No, for my other husband. Yes, you."

Carlos still looked confused. "Oh. That's..."

"I know, I should’ve just waited for the weekend so we could go somewhere nice.” The embarrassment was setting in. Not only had he screwed up making a meal that Carlos could have prepared in his sleep, but after a long day at work Carlos had to come sit with him in the emergency room. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“What were you making?” Carlos asked him.

“Seared scallops with rainbow carrots and zucchini.” He wasn’t even sure if they went well with scallops. He just thought they looked cool. “With a citrus glaze.”

“I love scallops,” said Carlos.

“I know. I’ve been watching this lady on Instagram, and…” He didn’t want to admit that her schick was impressive-looking meals in 30 minutes or less. “They looked good. I put the scallops in the fridge so you can make them later.”

Carlos’s thumb gently stroked the inside of TK's wrist. “We can make them later. Together.”

His husband was so sweet. TK didn’t deserve him. “They’d probably taste better if you made them.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to cook Valentine’s Day dinner with my husband.”

Carlos, still holding TK’s injured arm at the elbow, put an arm around him. TK sighed and leaned his head onto Carlos’s shoulder. They both stared at the mess of tape and bandages on TK’s finger.

“Sorry I ruined our first Valentine’s Day,” TK said quietly.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“I kinda did though,” TK said, moving his injured hand for emphasis. Carlos brought TK’s hand to his face so he could kiss his palm. Then he placed a very soft kiss on the bandage covering TK’s finger.

TK huffed. “Gross,” he whispered into Carlos’s shoulder.

Carlos looked down at him, and they sat in silence for a moment, watching each other. TK felt Carlos’s fingers stroking the base of his neck.

“How was your day?” TK asked him.

“Fine.”

“Did you—”

The door opened. “Okay, got your discharge paperwork,” Dana said, closing the door behind her. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Carlos said, nodding politely.

“Also have your tegaderms,” she said, tossing a bag of bandages onto the table. “Unfortunately they were out of Scooby Doo, so you’ll have to settle for the plain ones.”

“Bummer.”

Dana went over discharge instructions with both of them. She gave TK a plastic finger protector and helped him into the sling.

“Tyler Kennedy—you know, it never even occurred to me to wonder what that stood for until now?” Dana said, snapping off her gloves as TK sighed. “Anyway, Tyler Kennedy Strand-Reyes, I now pronounce you…not my worst patient of the evening.”

TK held his good hand to his chest. “Thank you, Dana. I’m honored.”

“Keep him away from cooking utensils?” Dana told Carlos. “Or at least the sharp ones?”

“I’ll try,” Carlos promised.

“Won’t be a problem,” TK assured her.

As they made their way through the parking lot towards the Camaro, holding hands, Carlos asked, “So are you on a first name basis with all of the nurses?”

“Just the ER nurses.”

“And which coma does Dana know you from? Or did you meet her after the concussion?”

TK rolled his eyes. “You know that I’m EMS, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“That stands for Emergency Medical Services. That means we make a lot of trips to emergency rooms, especially this one.”

Carlos stopped as they reached the car. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

Carlos leaned forward to press a soft kiss to TK’s mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And it doesn’t matter what happens on Valentine’s Day,” Carlos told him, cupping TK’s cheek, “as long as I get to spend it with you.”

TK smiled and leaned back against the car, pulling Carlos with him. “So you’re saying you’ll spend every Valentine’s Day in the ER with me?”

“No, I am not saying that.”

TK kissed him, slipping just enough tongue in so Carlos would know that it was a promise for later. “There’s still two hours left, and I know how we can spend them.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows. “You know your arm is in a sling, right?”

“My mouth still works.”

Carlos shook his head, but he was smiling. “Come on, babe. Let’s go home.”

#twpvficexhange #tarlos fic #tarlos #911 lone star #911 ls #911 ls fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #my fic

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davycoquette · 2 months

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This one's from a collaborative writing post. The character is the "you" in #coyotebackstabby.

Never before had a man belonged so much to a place, a sound, a smell, an atmosphere, as Shiloh Kitson in that shabby dive bar. The atmosphere was Lonesomeness. It hung in the gauzy nicotine air, coruscated in the slick of grease on the bar. It fizzled Van Zant flavored out of the jukebox and painted shadows under sleepy eyes.

He smacked of an afterthought, the stranger pushing the door open: seasonable red flannel over a black shirt, Dick Palmer’s Old West Gun Room rounding a logo of wing-emblazoned pistols on the front of it. Worn out Levi’s from the thrift store. Work boots loose-laced, leather ‘n soles stained with every color of dirt the continental US could offer. Nantahala on the front of his trucker hat, half his face in its shadow, his blondish hair curling from underneath it.

He favored the hand that pushed the door, let all the pressure fall on his bony wrist. Tape around two fingers hid A-S on the knuckles; the pointer and pinky still read F and T. Bruises splotched his face, too, and angry splits recently shut by butterfly stitches. It was all fading, now, though; long past pain, beneath notice. All the watercolors belonged to a place and time that stretched far away behind him — farther even, it seemed, than the place where he picked up the carton of Pall Malls wedged in his back pocket.

Every other seat at the counter was taken, the patrons spaced respectfully apart even at that place reserved for a bar’s loneliest clientele. At the farthest end a man dozed with his chin on his collarbone, his cigarette-jaundiced beard bunching fleecy curls underneath his head like a cushion made from old poodle hide. His soft snoring drowned in staticky rock riffs and the clattering of bottles. On the counter beside him, a metal desk fan oscillated, clicking at the apex of every stretch before jerking back toward the center. The curled edges of printer paper stapled to wood panels fluttered then stilled.

Behind the barkeep a soccer game played out on a mounted television. Half the picture was blanched by a mysterious patch with rainbow edges. An announcer’s voice droned in and out of focus, on audible to those who listened for it.

Opposite the sleeper sat a woman past middle age, her hair a chaotic pile of frizz and curls in champagne yellow. Shadow gathered in the creases of her slow-blinking eyelids as she methodically nursed her second cocktail. Her purse occupied the barstool next to her, slouched open, combs and wallet and a dozen or so crinkled receipts on full display.

— And there were others! But Shiloh moved single-mindedly to the bar and took his place in between two other patrons. He looked shy, like an out-of-towner who never should have left his hometown holler. Like he was uncomfortable in the “big city,” like he dreamed of country roads and familiarity and a little lady back home. It didn’t seem as though he looked at his neighbors at all, but kept his head down and his periphery shadowed by the bill of his hat, and he sat and folded his tattooed hands on the bar in front of him.

But this was how he always played it.

When the barkeep paused in front of him, the corner of his mouth hooked coyly, then relaxed. His eyes lifted for a moment, then he bowed his head again.

“The Pilsner." He tilted his hand in the direction of the beer tap. The dreamily twitched almost-smile again as the barkeep moved wordlessly away, and Shiloh said, “Thank you,” to the back of him.

#writing #writeblr #original writing #original work #original fiction #original character #oc #davywrites #shiloh

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punchdrunkdoc · 6 months

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Part 3, Chapter 16

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 3

Chapter 16

As they crossed the threshold into the Rainbow Room, Matt felt Calina pause as she took in the venue. After a moment of stunned silent, she let out a single sound. “Oh.”

And it was all Matt needed.

He didn’t have to see the splendour of the room. He didn’t have to see the view outside the windows, or the lights of the night sky. That soft, wondrous noise told him everything.

And it more than justified Foggy’s bragging from this morning. He really did owe his friend big time.

The hostess showed them to their table and he could sense Calina still gazing around the room. She shook her head in amazement. “How did you manage this? This place must be really hard to get in to.”

Matt shrugged. “I have friends in high places.”

“Like who, the Mayor?”

He laughed. “No. Foggy helped me out.”

“That was nice of him. This place is really fancy, Matt - I told you I’d be happy with a greasy diner.”

He made a move, as if to get to his feet. “We can leave then, if you want.”

“No!”

He laughed and settled back in his chair. “Didn’t think so.”

“Well, I just figured, we’re here now. We might as well check out the food.”

The food, unsurprisingly, was delicious. Matt chose the prime tenderloin for his main and it was melt-in-the-mouth tender. Served with creamy, peppery mash and honey-glazed parsnips, it was heaven. Calina was enjoying her choice just as much, given the small moans of pleasure escaping her lips.

“Good?” he asked with a grin.

“Mm-hmm!” she replied around a mouthful of sea bass.

When dessert was finished, and the plates cleared away, they both sat back and enjoyed the rest of the bottle of champagne that he’d ordered. “I like this,” Calina commented.

“The champagne?”

“Yeah. I think I prefer it to Vodka - but don’t tell my sisters. They’d be horrified at me betraying my Russian roots.”

Matt laughed softly. “But you must have had champagne before. During one of your…missions.” He didn’t want to bring up any bad memories about her time working for the Red Room, but he was still so curious about her. He wanted to know every facet of her. Every detail, no matter how small.

“Yes, but it was different then,” she replied, thankfully not sounding upset about the direction of the conversation. “I think because the serum blunted my emotions so much, food and drink didn’t taste the same. It was just sustenance. Without the feeling of pleasure that came with eating and drinking, everything was just…bland.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It just means that I get to experience everything fresh now.” She shrugged. “I’m trying not to dwell on the reason that I’m so…inexperienced…about the world. I’m focussing on how much fun it will be to catch up with everyone else.”

“So what do you want to ‘catch up’ on next?” he asked, loving her outlook on life. Her wide-eyed wonder at the world had been one of the things that had made him fall in love with her. But that wonder wasn’t a reflection of naive, innocence. It was a testament to the steely resilience at her core. She’d been through hell; but rather than letting it shape her into someone hard and cynical - she’d emerged from the other side willing and able to see the beauty around her.

She constantly left him in awe.

Unaware of the depth of his thoughts, Calina ran down her list. “There’s already been a lot of catching up today - the champagne, this date, shopping with Karen earlier-”

“What? I didn’t know that.” Karen had left work after lunch, but that wasn’t unusual. She covered the investigative side of their practice, which meant she was often out and about in the City.

Calina bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to get her in trouble.”

“She’s not in trouble. I’m not her boss - she's an equal partner. I was just surprised.”

“I was too. But she was really nice. And I obviously needed her help - I would have been way under-dressed for this place otherwise.”

“You look stunning,” he said, reaching across the small table to take her hand.

She laughed. “How can you tell?”

He could tell, because between the main course and the dessert, Calina had excused herself to go to the bathroom. And during her walk across the room, the reactions of the other patrons had told him plenty.

The elderly woman sitting three tables behind him had whispered to her companion, “Look at that girl - isn’t she gorgeous? Did we ever look as good as that in our hey-day, Helen?”

The group of women celebrating a 40th birthday had gossiped among themselves after Calina had passed their table. “She must be someone famous, right?” one of them had wondered. “With a face and body like that, she has to be a model or actress or something,” another had remarked.

Then there were the men. A chorus of rising heart-rates and the unmistakable scent of lust had followed Calina as she'd navigated a path through the room.

But he didn’t want to make her self-conscious by telling her any of that. He knew that, despite her looks and everything the Red Room had made her do, Calina was shy at heart.

“I just know,” he replied instead.

Just then, a couple to their left sauntered onto the parquet floor in the middle of the room, and started slow-dancing. They swayed together under the glittering light of the chandelier, and were soon joined by a few more dancers.

Matt watched Calina, as Calina watched the couples, her chin propped on her hand. As one slow, bluesy song transitioned to another equally slow and romantic tune, Matt caught the soft, barely-audible sigh that escaped Calina’s lips.

And he knew it would be cruel to make her wait any longer. He placed his napkin on the table, got to his feet and held out his hand. “Will you dance with me, sweetheart?”

She looked up at him, and he could read the surprise in her voice. “What? I thought you didn’t dance?”

“I said that back when I was trying to convince you I was just some hapless blind guy.”

“Don’t you still have to convince everyone else of that?” she whispered, glancing around at the other people in the room.

“We’ll just pretend you’re the one leading.”

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet, then tucked his own hand in the crook of her arm. “Well? Are you going to lead the way?”

She laughed, and did just that, manoeuvring the two of them between the tables and onto the floor. He tucked one arm around her waist and held up his left hand. She placed her right hand in it, and draped her other over his shoulder, bringing the two of them close together.

And they started dancing.

“Anyone who knew you, would know that you could never be led,” she teased, as she played with the short strands of hair at the back of his neck.

“What are you talking about? I would follow you wherever you wanted to go.”

She laughed. “Very smooth. Cheesy as hell…but somehow smooth.”

“It’s my gift.”

She laughed, then rested her cheek against his. She’d been right earlier - in heels, she was exactly his height. He nuzzled against her smooth skin and pulled her even closer, tracing his hand up the bare skin of her back.

“Have I told you how much I love this dress?” he murmured.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Good. Have I told you how much I love you?”

Her breath hitched, ever so slightly. “Um, not today.”

“Well I do. So much, Callie.”

“I love you too,” she whispered in his ear. “And thank you for tonight - its been wonderful. I wasn’t expecting the dancing, but it just made everything perfect.”

“I’m not sure what we’re doing could be called dancing” he remarked wryly. “We’re barely moving.”

She shrugged, seemingly content to just embrace on the dance floor. But he wasn’t - he wanted her to get the full experience. He shifted his hold on her hand, stepped back and spun her in a circle under his arm.

Her startled laughter made him smile. So next he whipped her out to the side, then pulled her back in, flicking his wrist to make her twirl into his arms. He spun her again, then dipped her, supporting her weight as she arched back.

More laughter. Her delighted giggle fizzed through the room like bubbles of champagne, drawing all eyes to her. But she didn’t seem to notice. And Matt couldn’t bring himself to care about the attention they were attracting.

All he cared about was her.

———

The distance from the elevator to Calina’s apartment door was far too short.

Matt walked as slowly as possible, wanting to prolong this night with her. She was flushed with champagne, and leaned against him as they meandered down the corridor, her gait slightly unsteady from the alcohol - something he’d teased her about when they exited the restaurant. “I thought Russians could hold their liquor better than this.”

“Not this Russian,” she’d replied. “I’m a total light weight. An embarrassment to my nation.”

He’d just laughed and helped her into the taxi.

Now he was loathe to let her go. He wanted to laugh with her some more. Talk with her. Kiss her and take her to bed. But all too soon they reached her doorway. “Do I get a kiss goodnight?” she asked, as if reading his thoughts. “I know you have your rule about going slow, but isn’t a kiss at the end of a date kind of like a tradition?”

He smiled at the question, and the way it sounded both innocent, and seductive as hell.

How could he say no to that?

He pulled her close, one hand pressed against her lower back and the other cupping the back of her head…and kissed her.

A long, slow kiss. A deep, thorough kiss.

He tasted the champagne on her lips and the chocolate on her tongue. He surrounded himself with her scent, and let his fingers explore the velvety softness of her skin.

Eventually he pulled away, just far enough to whisper in her ear. “Never let it be said that Matt Murdock doesn’t provide the full first date experience.”

She hummed in agreement. “Thank you again. For tonight. I had fun.”

“I had fun too.”

They lingered in the moment, neither one willing to let the other go. Calina continued to stroke her fingers through his hair as he lazily traced the line of her spine. The staccato beat of her heart filled his ears, the quick pace a sign of her growing desire. Her scent changed, growing richer and deeper, and his own body hardened in response. Her tongue was a faint rasp as it moistened her lips and then all he could think about was kissing her again. Kissing her and unlocking the door and giving in to this passion between them-

“You should go,” she said, throwing a metaphorical bucket of water on the moment.

“What? But-”

“You should go,” she repeated. “You still have to suit up as ‘you-know-who’. And you have work tomorrow.” She didn’t wait for his reply, just turned in his arms and unlocked her apartment door. With a quick peck on his cheek, and a final “Goodnight, Matt,” she closed it between them, leaving him alone in the hallway.

Matt shook his head, dazed at the sudden turn of events. One minute she was melting in his arms, the next she was gone - after literally putting a barrier between them.

He placed his hand flat on the door and cocked his head, trying to figure out what was happening on the other side. He could sense her leaning back against the door, a bare inch between his hand and the heat of her body. He heard her take a deep breath, and release it in a shaky exhale. Her heart still pounded, the endorphins still rushed through her veins.

She was still turned on. She still wanted him…

And she was trying to give him what he wanted.

What he thought he needed:

Space.

Boundaries.

The whole ‘going slow’, and ‘not having sex’ thing.

But it was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. Denying themselves this aspect of their relationship was just making them both miserable - not that they’d done much denying up until now.

Which just proved the whole idea was stupid and pointless.

He’d regain his trust in her over time. She’d learn to have faith in their relationship over time.

Time was what they needed - not space from each other.

With that decided, he knocked on the door.

She opened it seconds later, and he could sense the frown marring her forehead. “What’s wrong? Did you forget something?”

“Yes. This.” He stepped in to her space, grabbed her around the waist and kissed her. This time the embrace sparked with passion. His tongue swept into her mouth and his fingers dug into the skin of her back as he pulled her closer. He flung out one arm to slam the door closed behind them, his mouth still devouring hers. Then he spun her around and backed her against the door in one quick move.

The new leverage let him sink against her, until he could feel her hardening nipples against his chest. Her heels brought her up to just the right height for their bodies to line up perfectly, and he took advantage, pressing his cock against her.

She moaned at the sudden friction, and he swallowed the sound, desperate for more. He grasped her jaw and tilted her mouth to deepen the contact, as his other hand skimmed along the velvety softness of her dress.

But it still wasn’t enough.

He bent his knees slightly, grabbed her ass in his hands and boosted her up until her long legs wrapped around his waist. He heard a seam in her dress rip but he couldn’t find it in himself to care in that moment. He’d buy her a new one tomorrow. Or take it to a tailor. Hell, he’d find some thread and fix it himself, he didn’t care. He just needed to be close to her.

And in this position, with her legs spread wide, there was nothing between them but a couple of thin layers of fabric. He thrust against her, setting up a slow but thorough pace. As one particular pulse of his hips hit the right spot, she jerked in his arms and flung her head back moaning deep and low. The move broke their kiss but he just shifted his attention to that spot behind her ear.

His spot.

He laved attention on that patch of skin, nipping and licking and sucking. Calina gripped his hair with both hands and tried to pull him back into a kiss, but he wasn’t done. He grabbed her wrists and slammed her hands against the wooden door by her head. The residual rational part of his psyche had a momentary worry that his rough actions had hurt her, but a quick check with his senses revealed nothing but pleasure. Endorphins rushed through her body, pumped through her veins by her pounding heart. Her breath gave a little hitch every time he moved against her core, and he could feel the heat gathering there.

She was close.

But he wanted to be inside her when she came. He wanted to sink into that soft, wet, heat, and feel her contract around him.

So he released one of her wrists, wedged his hand between their bodies and unzipped his pants. He slipped his hand up the rumpled, stretched skirt of her dress, gripped her panties and ripped them from her body. Then he positioned himself at her entrance, moaning as he felt the beckoning warmth…and paused.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice deep and gravelly. It was the first word he’d uttered since she’d opened the door, but he wanted to check they were on the same page.

He wanted to check that she was fine with being fucked hard and fast against this door.

“Calina?” he gritted out.

“Yes!” she growled, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him into her kiss. She sank her teeth into his lower lip at the same time she dug her blunt nails into his skin and that twin bite of pain snapped the last thread of his control.

He drove into her, sheathing himself completely inside. Her back slapped against the door with every push of his hips, the rhythmic sound echoing in the apartment, joined in chorus by her soft gasps and his panting breaths.

He gripped her thigh as he moved faster, knowing he’d be leaving marks on her tender skin. As he reached his crest, he shoved one hand between them to stroke his thumb over her clit and that last bit of stimulation was all she needed. She came apart with a cry, and he joined her in release.

He slumped against her, breathing hard. One hand still clenched her thigh, keeping her leg pinned around his waist; the other rested on the door beside her head. Her unsupported leg dropped to the ground, her spiked heel clattering against the hard wood floor.

She stroked shaky fingers through his hair. Traced the shell of his ear. Scratched through the stubble on his cheek, as if needing the contact to ground herself.

Moments later, he felt the movement as she swallowed. Then licked her dry lips. “You’re really bad at going slow,” she whispered in a teasing tone.

But he wasn’t in the mood to joke about this. “Fuck going slow,” he rasped, pulling back to face her. “I want to be with you. Tonight. Tomorrow. Every day from now on. If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will. I just thought this was what you wanted - what you needed.”

“I thought so too. But I was wrong.” This connection between them - the passion, the intensity, the way he felt when he touched her - it was too unique to ignore. Too powerful to treat so lightly.

All of which had scared him at first.

He’d worried that he’d get lost in her. Lose focus, and lose sight of who he was and who he needed to be for this city. Push aside the work that needed to be done to trust her again.

It was a fear left over from his relationship with Elektra.

But his relationship with Calina was so different from that one, and he needed to stop measuring against that benchmark. He was different, as well. Older, now. Wiser too - or so he hoped - and in a much different place in his life.

And Calina was the opposite of Elektra. She brought light and hope and joy into his life. And he wanted to revel in every aspect of their love without feeling guilty or wary.

He knew - more than most people - how easily love could be lost. How light could turn to dark. How sadness and despair could take the place of happiness.

He didn’t want to waste a moment between them.

So he let released his hold on her, and steadied her as both feet her touched the ground again. Then he led her away from the door and into the bathroom where he gently cleaned her up and helped her out of her clothes.

They slipped into bed together moments later, where he held drew her against his chest and held her close.

And they both fell asleep, dreaming peaceful dreams together.

————–

Chapter 17

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #daredevil fic #tabula rasa #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x original female character #matt murdock #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc #daredevil fandom

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isconnormcdavidok · 10 months

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Happy Holidays @twopeoplecanchange !

Christmas in New [Jersey] York

It’s been two years since Nico asked you to move to the States with him and honestly you’re pretty glad he’s playing on the east coast, it’s hard to imagine the Christmas season without snow, sure New Jersey doesn’t get quite as pretty as back home, at least not in Newark. But that doesn’t mean you don’t love it.

There’s a home game that night so you’ve got your favourite custom hoodie picked out, even if it’s probably gonna be under a coat, it’s more for you and Nico than the fans, though you’re used to that as well. Nico’s one of the most popular guys on his team and you’ve bonded with Jack’s girlfriend about what the attention feels like.

Coming from Switzerland, where you’d been pretty anonymous it felt sort of weird when you and Nico first got serious and you realized that people really cared what you were doing. It took a while to get used to it and you don’t know if you really are yet.

But you’re with the other girls and family members, drinking a beer when Nola slides up beside you and picks up your hand. “You should get your nails done.”

You just laugh, you usually do your own nails, as a break from the correspondence courses you’re doing. You do want to get a degree after all, even if you’re not really able to work right now.

You’re glad that the Devils organization offers a lot of volunteering opportunities and Nola brushes off your laugh, “Veronica recommended this great place in the city. I’m gonna make appointments for us. Girl’s day.”

And well, you don’t really mind that much, it sounds fun and pretty soon you’re being ushered back towards the game as the intermission comes to an end.

You almost forget about the plan until Nola texts you an Instagram link and the date and time of the appointment. You kind of laugh, the Russian manicure she’s booked sounds fancy and honestly the more you think about it, the more fun it sounds as you scroll through their instagram.

You don’t dress up for the appointment per se but it’s a high end place so you’re wearing your nice lounge wear, an off shoulder sweatshirt and black leggings with a designer parka.

Nola meets you with sugar cookie lattes for both of you and you’re starting to feel like something is up, not that Nola isn’t always nice but it’s starting to feel like it’s your birthday or something. But also you’re not gonna argue with it. The nail tech explains that the Russian manicures are very long lasting and you laugh, you’re always hard on your nails, so you’re at least intrigued as you stand at the nail wall.

There’s probably every colour in the rainbow and every colour and texture in between. And maybe it’s the Swiss in you but you’ve never been flashy so you end up picking this mauve-y grey gel that’s at least a very interesting neutral, not too boring. And Nola nods approvingly, “What about like a chrome or something?”

You grin, thinking that sounds like fun. “What are you doing?” Nola grins, plucking a bottle of champagne shimmer off the wall and wiggles her nails at you with a grin. “Love it.”, you say laughing.

You both get champagne and that’s when Nola tells you you’re gonna head over to the Rockefeller Centre rink after. You’ve been a few times with Nico before and you remind her that you’ve got dinner plans with Nico and she nods, of course you’ll make it.

You notice the nail tech has a bit of a smile and you quickly learn just how intensive the nail process is, nails buffed and shaped to perfection before you even get the nail polish on.

Despite the long process, it’s easy to settle into chatting with Nola, sometimes it’s exhausting to be speaking English all the time, unless it’s just you and Nico or you and Nico and Nola and Jonas. Not to throw Timo under the bus but he’s more Nico’s friend than yours.

You can’t help but smile when you see your nails, sparkling under the light, the chrome was a great idea.

From there it’s an Uber to the Rockefeller Centre and Nola takes you over to get some skates when you hear a voice behind you, “Hey babe.”, Nico teases and Nola laughs.

“Enjoy!”, she calls as she walks back to the road and you look at Nico in confusion. He just smiles.

“I wanted to do something special.”, you’ve never gotten over how handsome he is, it’s hard to remember that you both used to be scrawny teenagers messaging between Halifax and Switzerland and now you’re here. And Nico leads you over to the skate rental.

He’s wearing a beanie and you can see that a few people are glancing your way, like maybe they recognize him, but no one approaches you as you and Nico do a couple of slow steady laps, pretty soon you’ve settled back into your skates, laughing as you skate around Nico, who’s filming on his cell. “Do it for the gram.”, you say with a wink.

As darkness falls, Nico leads you to pick up some hot chocolate and you’re starting to worry about your dinner reservation as you stare up at the tree when suddenly you hear a few people around you fall quiet. And you look around you quickly, wondering if something’s wrong when you see Nico down on one knee, a box in his hand.

And your eyes go wide. “Nico?”

“I’ve worked on this speech for weeks now but I still don’t have the words, I feel like I have loved you as long as I have known what love is. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Will you marry me?”

All you can do is gasp as the words sink in and then you respond in a rush, “Of course.”

It’s the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen and your hands are shaking as Nico slips it on to your ring finger, you can feel the tears in your eyes and you catch your new manicure in the light of the tree and quickly snap a photo to text to Nola.

“Now we have dinner reservations.”, Nico reminds you.

Dinner is at your favourite restaurant but you’re not led to a table instead you’re led to one of the private rooms where the whole team is waiting with a couple of huge engagement ring shaped balloons. Then it’s just a whirlwind of photos, congratulations, “he did well” and more than one “nice nails” and you catch Nola’s eye and she just grins at you.

#Nico Hischier #hockey girlies fic exchange #why is hockey like this

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