𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈
going feral for virgin eddie, who has absolutely no idea how to fuck you. He needs to be talked through everything the first time. You’re both making out on his bed as ‘I was made for lovin you’ by kiss spins on the record player, volume on low to set the mood. His hands stay folded in his lap because he’s afraid if he begins touching any part of you, he’ll instantaneously combust in his pants. He would die of humiliation so he keeps his hands to himself, but eventually you get tired of being the only one whose being overly handsy, grasping at his hair and rubbing your fingertips down his clothed chest. So finally, you grab his hand setting it on your upper thigh before placing the other just under your short, pink skirt that now sits raked up around your hips. He stiffens immediately, Adam’s apple bobbing from a harsh swallow. “Y-you sure?” He asks, like he couldn’t believe you wanted him to touch you, as if you hadn’t been the one to make the first move.
When he gets the confidence to climb on top of you and kiss you with fiery passion— you both begin removing each others clothes; garments flying every which way with voracity, a game of who can get the other naked the quickest. Of course in Eddie’s eager fashion and the fact that you were wearing very little clothing to begin with, he had you completely naked in a matter of seconds; his heavily ringed hands shaking all the while.
When he finally sinks into your wet, warm walls; his eyes instantly snap shut. He takes a couple deep breaths because if he doesn’t get his wits about him he will come before he even gets the chance to make his first thrust and you’re just clenching and gripping around his hard cock so perfectly that Eddie’s eyes begin to water, but he immediately blinks them away; he’d rather die than mess up this moment. He starts a rhythm and his cock is moving in and out of you with a speed that scrambles your brain, creating the most beautiful slapping noises. Your knees are spread out wide on the mattress but you need him deeper, so you begin to take charge, talking him through exactly how you like it.
“Here, push my legs back, mhm up to my chest…there you go.” Once your legs are hiked up towards your body, his thrusts slow as if he’s too afraid to hurt you by going deeper, or faster.
“Don’t be scared baby, fuck me harder.” You order sweetly, and he does just that, fucking into you like his life depends on it “Oh! Yes, just like that!” You cry out as he begins pounding directly into your sweet spot.
“Mmm, you feel that? That’s my g spot…if you keep hitting it, I’m gonna come.” You whine, making his eyes snap up to meet your gaze. “Fuck yes!” He loudly huffs as his thrusts get rougher.
“Oh, that’s what you want? Want me to come all over your cock?” You ask teasingly before giving his jaw sloppy kisses while he eagerly nods, his frizzy waves tickling the side of your face “I know you do, you’re such a good boy.” You whisper into his ear, making him groan from the pet name. Just a few more thrusts have you both finishing together, falling into each other’s arms as you pant and kiss while coming down from the most intense high you’ve equally ever had.
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john price x f!reader thing. unedited. ~600 words.
john price finds a dent in the driver’s door and a note tucked under a wiper.
sorry i can’t afford to pay, please forgive me x
and he’s angry, of course. who wouldn’t be? piece of shit. then he registers the looping handwriting and the little heart in the corner. interesting. he pulls the cctv. lo and behold, there she is. the culprit. some stumbling drunk buffoon.
~~
you probably shouldn’t have nabbed an e-scooter when you were three sheets to the wind, but you did, and fuck, you’re paying for it. you genuinely feel bad about the dent you left in the parked car last night, but you think a broken wrist and three stitches in your lip is more than enough punishment, thanks. you groan, remembering how you tossed the scooter into a bush and hiked a few streets away before calling 999. having to clock in for an opening shift added insult to injury.
~~
he imagines it’s rough going, working an espresso machine with a busted wrist. he supposes the manager didn’t want her as the cashier given the lip. pity, the swelling and stitches aside, she’s quite cute. but serves her right.
he wonders how she’ll react when he picks up his coffee and procures the printed still of her face, clear as day, fleeing from the scene of the crime.
he should feel bad, considering her injuries and what a barista job pays, but. it’s the principle of the thing.
“rough night?” he asks, hovering at the end of the bar.
“huh? oh, yeah. could say that,” she smiles tiredly. it’s a little strained, but still warm. “pity partied too hard.”
john’s smirk flattens. “pity party?”
“yeah,” she shrugs. “series of unfortunate events.”
like running into my car?
“what, bad date?” he jokes carefully, hiding behind a friendly grin.
“ha, guess so. it was supposed to be an anniversary dinner.” she explains dryly, looking all the more defeated as she tamps the grounds.
“supposed to be?”
she glances up, locking in the portafilter with a crank of her good arm. she finally looks a little suspicious of him. smart. “yeah.”
“i don’t mean to pry. you just seem like you could use a vent.” solid recovery.
it works. she considers a moment, shrugs again, and nods as she pulls the shot. “guess so,” she licks her lip and looks back, evidently deeming him harmless. not smart.
“found out he was cheating, called him on it, and he stormed out. after we ordered.”
that’s. that’s not what he expected. but it stirs something oddly protective. john’s a bit old-fashioned, he’s the first to admit it, so to hear about a man carrying himself so poorly? a man running around on a pretty thing like her?
it doesn’t sit well with him. car be damned.
“so how’d you…” he prompts, nodding at the cast.
“oh, yeah, we ordered some fancy wine. i drank most of the bottle alone, sobbing,” she cracks a self-deprecating smile and it dislodges something in his chest. “but the server didn’t charge me for dessert. i, uh, fell on my way home.”
crashed. you crashed into my car.
“sounds terrible.”
“it was. the whole night was. anyway.” she pauses to slide a pen from her apron to write on the cup. “americano to go?” she asks, pushing the drink over the counter, eyes floating to the next order.
john spots the same little heart, the looping letters. he looks back at her, plugging along despite the clear heartache and injuries. he sighs, crumpling the print out in his pocket.
“think i’ll have it to stay, actually,” he mumbles, knowing she doesn’t hear him as she makes the next drink.
he camps out at a table where he can watch her. there’s a dent in his car, but he’s decided there’s a barista-sized hole in his life.
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Hades defenders pls understand that just because your man got abused doesn’t mean he isn’t abusive himself.
He ripped out someone’s eyes, constantly shouts at those with a lower status at him for Persephone. It’s supposed to be attractive, but that is abusive behaviour.
He is a slave owner.
Minthe faces racism from his family. Yes she was abusive. But does that mean he can dismiss her feelings constantly? No, it doesn’t.
Demeter is constantly verbally assaulted by him. And this guy will turn around and say ‘why do you not like me 😭🥺’
Hades is abusive. There’s multiple types of abuse. Stop acting like physical abuse is the only type of abuse ever because it is insulting that you’re implying it.
Hades can be manipulative, verbally abusive, physically abusive (ripping out someone’s eyes and then being mean to them after again and again is abuse) and manipulative and y’all stans will be like… ‘oh no, anyway’ BUT get mad when he gets criticism for being a piece of shit
Also
If anyone can think of another instance where this guy was abusive please add on
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wake up I got another fic idea—
I’ll make it on ao3 since it’s gonna be a long book but basically I take the “Knock Out and Blades are roommates in med school” and go crazy with it. We all know KO has a knack for getting into less than desirable situations. His time in University is no exception. But now… Blades is roped into the chaos. So they get into some really bad shit and they gotta get out of it if they want to graduate.
anyways they’d be a hilarious duo like possibly funnier than Starscream and Knock Out in Tfp lol. And they’re pretty young in this fic too, since they’re in college. I’m so gonna write this even though there’s other stuff to do this is now my priority I need this duo
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Which one is the mask? Daredevil/Matt Murdock
I think that, to some extent, they are both the mask.
When people write about this, they (tend to) talk as if Matt Murdock and Daredevil are two personalities placed into one mind, two definitively separate halves of a whole. I don’t necessarily agree with that. Matt Murdock is Daredevil and Daredevil is Matt Murdock, and there is no sharp line between them only a blur. They are just different aspects of one personality, unbalanced when viewed without the context of the other.
I do get the ‘two halves of a whole’ thing, and I think there is an amount of truth to that. But there is no clear separation between the two, no point where Matt Murdock ends and Daredevil begins.
Those who only know Daredevil would think of him as brutal and violent, which he is. Yet those who only know Matt Murdock would think of him as soft spoken and charming, and he’s all that too. Daredevil and Matt Murdock are not mutually exclusive. They coexist.
I also think that this is why Foggy doesn’t seem to accept that Matt can’t just give up being Daredevil. He knows Matt, has never known Daredevil so he finds it hard to accept that this soft spoken and charming guy is a brutal and violent vigilante. Matt acts as the mask there. (@ceterisparibus116 very much inspired this take)
(Plus, the (literal) mask isn’t what makes Matt Daredevil. The anonymity it provides allows him to be a vigilante, but removing the mask doesn’t erase what created/fuels Daredevil, it simply removes what enables Matt to physically be Daredevil.)
In short: Daredevil and Matt Murdock are not separate entities. They are simply different characteristics zoomed in on in a way that ignores the other parts entirely. Both are incomplete without the other, both are the mask.
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