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inuhalfdemon · 15 hours

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No One Can Know... (5/?)

Word Count: 2,526 Words

Rating: Mature (SMUT)

Chapter 5

"I want your love, and I want your revenge

You and me could write a bad romance

I want your love and all your lover's revenge

You and me could write a bad romance"

- Lady Gaga

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“Better to come here now then.”

Lucifer was right. Alastor had already put things off longer than was prudent for them and it might be best that tonight was not a night that they spent at the hotel.

Maybe this was a mistake... He thought.

Not that Lucifer hadn’t proven that he was fully capable of handling Alastor; but would he be prepared for Alastor at his absolute worst?

Alastor had not been entirely honest with Lucifer; refraining from offering up the fact that he had chosen avoidance - had forcibly made himself celibate - for the past 7 years. This, of course, was creating a large problem to him now. He had hoped to pay the consequence of denying his body a natural need it required under...different circumstances; perhaps at some time when the stakes weren't set quite so high with very few options to consider.

He had withheld this information knowing that Lucifer would inevitably want to know the reason why; and Alastor – quite simply – had no interest in discussing it.

Alastor was feeling uncomfortable.

Two days had passed since his visit to Lucifer’s and he was very nearly fully into his rut now. He had stubbornly pushed off contacting the angel for as long as was possible but it was getting harder and harder to maintain his composure.

During the daytime, he threw himself into tasks throughout the hotel; performing maintenance and small renovations where he could; helping Charlie in formulating a strong argument for redemption by researching terminology and definitions that would best accommodate her proposals; exchanging preliminary ideas with Vaggie on possible preparations for fortifying the hotel should the need require it; helping the other residents with small and meaningless chores or errands. He no longer slept and he spent the nights drinking and making efforts in dulling the edge to his urges.

Despite the distraction and despite him trying to deal with the arousals himself...he wasn't accomplishing much in assuaging his symptoms. Alastor's body was betraying him and he did not care for it. He felt overheated; a cold sweat constantly at his back. He had to take measures in concealing spontaneous erections and felt like every nerve on his body was a live wire just ready to ignite. His antlers were even weighing heavier on his head and he knew he couldn't ignore the implications of this much longer.

When he got to Lucifer's, he felt a frazzled mess. Lucifer took one look at him and knew - despite all of the arrogant antics, despite all of the careful planning - Alastor was not handling his rut well. He was too...maniac and too on-edge. His ears too straight and twitchy, his eyes and smile too wide...

"Have you eaten?" Lucifer asked him, inviting him inside. "You look like you could maybe use some food..." and maybe some sleep...

"No, I have not...I -" He was trying to remember when he last ate...not today. "I suppose I should."

"Shrimp and grits sound okay?" Lucifer asked him, walking toward the kitchen.

Alastor paused; tilting his head.

"I asked Charlie, alright." Lucifer told him. "I explained to her that you and I had important matters to discuss regarding information from Carmilla's extermination meetings she conducts with the Overlords tonight and I asked her what you might like to eat. She said you liked Cajun, so Cajun I made."

Alastor just stared at him; giving him a hard look.

“Won’t your daughter be wondering at the strangeness of our…nightly meeting?” He asked.

“Hardly.” Lucifer told him turning and continuing down the corridor. “She knows that you’re nocturnal and that I’m an insomniac. Honestly; she’s just thrilled that we don’t have any foreseeable plans in murdering each other.”

“I’d rather you didn’t go out of your way to make special accommodations for me.”

"I have an interest in knowing people, Alastor. I'm sure you've seen that trait in Charlie, as well. Don't be so surprised and don’t be so skeptical."

Flicking one ear; Alastor followed him to the kitchen.

"Also, you might hate the dinner. Who knows. I never said I was a good cook."

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Following their meal, Lucifer noted that Alastor still seemed...out of sorts. They had engaged in quiet conversation that was pleasant enough but the man just seemed too...nervous and distant. Whatever expectations Lucifer had with tonight; this wasn't it.

Maybe this isn't the best solution...

With the food gone and dishes put away; there was nothing left for it...

"I don't know about you, but I could use a shower." Lucifer said; standing up to stretch. "Care to join me?"

"A shower sounds....nice, actually."

The bathroom was unlike anything Alastor had seen; dead or alive. It was incredibly spacious and immaculately kept...

The shower was a large walk-in with multiple waterflow heads. Lucifer unabashedly stripped himself naked; setting his clothes aside. Walking across the tiles; he flipped on the knobs of two of the heads before stepping underneath the streaming water of one.

Alastor paused; watching him. He expected Lucifer to start in on some form of leud comments...make an attempt at some or dirty talk; or hungrily – curiously even - watch him as he undressed; but the angel was paying him absolutely no mind.

Sighing; Alastor slipped out of his suit jacket.

Fully naked, he stepped into the shower with Lucifer; going to the second shower head that was beside him. Alastor stood underneath the jet; feeling the heated water soothe the static nervous energy he had stored in his body. He waited for Lucifer to turn toward him; to approach; to look at him and begin touching him but...he never did. Lucifer stood under his own steaming jet of water, eyes closed and head tilted as he showered; almost seemingly having forgotten that Alastor was even there. Alastor tweaked an ear, then closing his eyes he turned his face into the spray of water; feeling it thrum against his antlers, cascading across his lowered ears and through his hair.

Lucifer watched Alastor from the corner of his eye. He had noted a hint of some sort of cologne when Alastor stepped into the shower with him but now...now that Alastor was under the water the smell was pungent. It was a heavy but earthy odor; something akin to the smell of pine trees and rain or the soft tones of a woodfire smoke. Lucifer breathed the scent in deeply; his pupils gently dilated, his heart rate jumped, and his mouth began to water...all at once he was suddenly very much aroused and he immediately realized that he was smelling and breathing in the concentrated pheromones of Alastor's musk. Lucifer couldn't help but stare at him now, feeling a powerful urge now to approach the red deer demon; to feel and to touch...to give and to take.

He saw the water washing across Alastor’s upturned face; ringlets, splashes and streams of it curling and twisting all down across his body. He briefly noted that Alastor was covered in scars; a sharp flickering of red and then he saw that Alastor also possessed a rather soft-and-delicate-looking deer tail. Lucifer wondered at the amount of secrets Alastor must be willing to sacrifice to see these deals he had made done…

Lucifer’s erection was openly jutting upwards but…he held back. Watching Alastor closely; he somehow knew that he wasn't ready to be touched yet.

What hell it must be…he thought…to be someone who cared so little for physical intimacy - to have it forced upon them by their own biological need. Lucifer couldn't fathom it but he saw the discomfort; the detachment that Alastor was experiencing from it. It reminded Lucifer of one of his episodes that he had sometimes when he-

Wait.

Hold on.

Lucifer shook his head; blinking water from his eyes as he concentrated, looking much more closely at Alastor now.

Was Alastor...experiencing some episode of post-traumatic distress?

Lucifer focused; assessing all of the signs and he saw it, realizing…

“I’d rather not discuss it…”

Suddenly; all of it made sense.

Lucifer had wondered how Alastor – a sinner Cervidae demon that had been in Hell for as long as he had – had not yet come to terms with the matter of his occurring and re-occurring mating cycles.

Something had to have happened…

Fuck…

Lucifer rubbed his face; of course, this had to be even more complicated.

He thought briefly again about what both Lilith and Alastor had said…about how Alastor had actually killed demons before when he –

Then, Lucifer remembered what he himself had told Alastor:

“…it wasn’t for the intentions that they had thought…”

Alastor was still standing under the shower head next to his; eyes closed, face tilted up, smile fixed to his face. His body was rigid; tension never leaving his body.

Lucifer sighed.

“Hey, Al…”

Alastor’s eyes opened; he turned his head, ears lifting, looking at Lucifer now – somehow expressionless despite the ever-present grin.

“Come here; I-I’d like you to touch me.”

Alastor’s ears straightened; processing for a moment…

Then, reaching out – Alastor turned the knob to his shower head; turning off the spray of water. He went to Lucifer; stepping into the falling water and looking down at the angel. Reaching out again; he found the knob – turning it. Heat flared across Lucifer’s skin; turning his pale skin a rosy pink.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Lucifer hissed.

Alastor huffed; a small smirk touching his face. Turning, he put his back to the streaming jet of hot water; facing Lucifer. Steam began to rapidly fill the shower; heat radiating around them.

Alastor waited; still anticipating Lucifer to reach out – touch him; grab him; grip him; smother him…

Lucifer lifted his hands; palms open and held to the side.

“Per our agreement…” He said, softly.

Alastor’s eyes widened; understanding.

“I won’t touch you.” Lucifer told him. “Not until you want me to.”

Alastor’s breathing changed; the base to his antlers were becoming more full, more points erupting and curling upward.

“Don’t hold back.” Lucifer told him.

Layers of tension left Alastor as he moved himself closer to Lucifer; his upper body leaning down and over the angel.

He took Lucifer’s face between clawed hands; tilting his head and pressing his mouth to his. Alastor kissed him and Lucifer kept his hands raised and away. Alastor pressed himself closer; completely blocking the spray of water coming from the shower head and Lucifer was grateful for the added heat that was filling the room in a foggy humid blanket.

Still kissing him; Alastor’s hands left the angel’s face and began exploring his body. Clawed fingers traced stimulating patterns all along Lucifer’s wet neck, chest, shoulders and stomach. Lucifer shuddered; groaning softly into Alastor’s mouth. Unlike Alastor; Lucifer craved to touch and craved being touched…now finding himself coming out of a rather lengthy dry spell – maybe not years worth, but still – his body was terribly touch deprived and every contact Alastor made with him was bracing to him. Keeping his hands away – he clenched his fists at the urge to reach out and touch Alastor.

Alastor pulled his head back; breaking the kiss. His fingers curled around Lucifer’s chin; his eyes wide and dilating.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.” He breathed.

Unclenching his fists; Lucifer did as he was instructed. Alastor waited for him to rest his hands on either side; pausing as if assessing himself - deciding whether he would find the contact acceptable.

Nodding; he leant back in – pressing his lips back again to Lucifer’s – his own clawed hands finding and gripping the smaller man’s waist; palms resting on each hip.

Lucifer let his hands rest – still - at Alastor’s shoulders; neither moving them to touch and explore Alastor like he ached to do nor to grip and pull him closer. Alastor gave a soft growl and Lucifer took it as an approving sound as the demon coaxed their mouths open; sliding his tongue between parted lips – he twisted and flicked it with and against Lucifer’s forked one.

More and more of the unease was leaving Alastor’s body…making room for a new kind of tension. Lucifer felt Alastor grip his hips tighter; his developing erection pressing into the King’s belly. Disengaging himself from Lucifer’s mouth; Alastor pressed his forehead to Lucifer’s; his breathing heavy.

“You may touch me now.” Alastor told him.

Slowly; Lucifer leaned in – touching his lips to Alastor’s collar bone and sliding his hands down across Alastor’s arms and his chest. Alastor groaned; sinking into the touch and Lucifer knew that he would no longer have to take such pangs to be so cautious. He nipped and licked at Alastor’s skin; his tongue tracing across the raised and jagged scars that crisscrossed his chest. Clawed fingers dragging soft red marks; everywhere they went.

Lifting a hand from a hip; Alastor found Lucifer’s length. He palmed and stroked the King; feeling the firming of muscle in his hand. Lucifer sucked in a breath; hands involuntarily gripping tightly at Alastor’s arms. Lucifer quickly released his sudden grip; but Alastor only chuckled lowly at the response he had elicited in him.

“Turn around, my King.” Alastor told him lowly.

Turning; Lucifer felt Alastor’s hands grip his shoulders – pulling him against him so that Lucifer could feel the sinner’s erection pressing sharply into his back. Alastor adjusted himself; then possessively wrapped an arm around Lucifer’s torso; holding him firmly to him as he leant himself over – reaching down to take the swollen and aching member into his grip again. He pressed himself tightly against the angel; his own fully erect penis sliding up and down Lucifer’s wet back as he moved his hips – pumping the King in his hand.

Lucifer bent himself back against Alastor; his hips quivering into jutting as he felt himself quickly approaching a climax. His clawed fingers dug into the wet and slick skin of Alastor’s forearm; wrapped tightly across his chest. Alastor’s face was pressed tightly into the side of Lucifer’s neck; growling and gasping as both their movements stimulated him into an ever-deepening arousal.

Alastor’s grip tightened and Lucifer knew he was lost. His hips jutted sharply; and he felt himself release into Alastor’s hand; cum slipping between fingers and washing away in the cascade of water around them. Alastor let him go; and Lucifer shakily stood – his back still to Alastor.

A soft flickering of the lights and a soft buzzing of something static made Lucifer turn. Alastor was standing behind him; his penis curved tightly upward, a hand covering his face – his eyes were wide, red and flaring crazily behind spread fingers. His smile maniac and stretched too wide. His ears were erratically twitching in sharp movements; the fur on them standing sharply on end. The lights began to strobe; going out briefly before flickering back in again. Shadows were creeping into corners; crawling across walls – slowly consuming the room. Alastor’s antlers where branching and stretching dramatically overhead; the points lengthening and twisting around themselves in a beautifully chilling way. Alastor’s musk pervaded the room; hanging heavy in the thickening steam that surrounded them.

“Somewhere else…” Alastor was saying; his widening eyes seeing nothing. “I’m…”

And the room went dark.

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[Did I lull you into a false sense of security....? Next Chapter, we're getting WILD!]

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queencaramilflinda · 1 year

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Everyone during neverafter 15: oh my god these social interactions are going horribly they’re all doing so bad!

Me, neurodivergent and cannot read social cues: idk mostly these seem fine

#like… Pinocchio overshared for sure #but I didn’t think the rest of them were too bad? like they rolled poorly yes but the actual conversations went fine? I thought?#i at least didn’t think they were as bad as everyone else seems to think #like… with ylfa. when you are a young girl and you meet an older woman who is Like You and successful you are drawn to that #her questions didn’t seem invalid if a bit personal #like ‘how did this happen to u? how do u find the answers and the strength to be successful when your like this the way we are now?’#that was fair to ask! there was a moment before that where they even clocked eachother as beasts! and then ylfa asked about Pib #which seemed fine to me. like she was genuinely asking advice and she got shutdown with like a one word answer #I feel like la bête did worse in that interaction than ylfa did #none of the stuff with gerard was really his fault within that interaction. Brennan surprised Murph with the read the cards outloud thing #he handled it the best he could under the circumstances #Pib did great. Pinocchio overshared but his intentions and actual words were sweet! traumabonding!#Rosamund did great! she was kind and she said what she wanted like yeah! not too bad!#i don’t think Ally intended to actually put dirt in the cookies Brennan kind of pushed that and I don’t think a lot of what he said was bad #I think ally could’ve handled it better in the sense that they could’ve just told the truth and been vague abt the questions being abt #the book but the stuff about being so overly nice and a bit unnerving seemed like an accurate and not very offensive way of putting it #even before they knew about the nihilistic princess cabal stuff they thought rapunzel was creepy #cienna talks #neverafter

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thompsborn · 3 months

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i know i’ve said that being able to do the stereotypical insane ao3 authors notes is fun and amusing to me but can the universe NOT take that as a challenge to add more shit to my list of things to add next time i post ???? like. fucking. Calm Down Please.

#situations keep happening and i am TIRED #had to restrain a kid at work today which was AWFUL but he was trying to run into the road so i literally had to #almost cried bc of it but got the situation under control #but then when on my way to meet w coworkers to carpool to a meeting #my tire popped #super fun times super awesome super great #i mean my mom helped and we got it all fixed and handled #but basically from noon to like 6pm my mom and i were dealing w it bc everything had to be COMPLICATED #so i only just got home like 45 mins ago ish and i am SO tired holy fuck #but im eating left over orange chicken and then gonna shower and then just gonna be lazy and read and maybe write #if i have the brain power i will work on hb chp17 #but i also have a 4 hour training for work tomorrow so yeehaw #its 12:30-4:30 which isnt that bad but still #im also going to my dads afterwards to stay the night and visit him and my siblings #which is a good thing dont get me wrong i love visiting them #it just means i wont have a lot of freetime this weekend to work on writing and cleaning and stuff #not the end of the world and definitely worth it to see my dad and my baby siblings #but i wish it was a 3 day weekend so i could also have a day to just stay home and do things that i havent had the time to do yk #oh well. tis life. adulthood. having to handle situations and finding the best out of shitty circumstances. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 5 months

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Mc accidently got splashed with a (obsessive) "love potion" and she falls in giddy love with first person she lays her eyes on.

All she wants to do is give them kisses and hugs...and yea she also is clingy and she follows them around even duuring class. She is ready to do anything for her "love" ( like whatever they ask of her) she wants them to be happy . She is convinced that they are dating and it's honestly pointless to try and explain things to her.

How would Azul, Jamil, Malleus, Duece and Floyd hanndle the situation/what's their reaction? ( they were not dating before )

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul was doomed by yet another situation he couldn’t see himself out of. He hardly knows how to handle you normally, or rather how to handle his feelings for you, but you’re much harder when you’re like this. Having you clinging to his side and demanding his attention made it impossible for him to concentrate, and feelings be damned he wasn’t going to let his business suffer. Since Jade and Floyd refused to escort you from his office (finding Azul’s flustered face and inability to actually push you away the best comedy bit they’d seen in years) he ordered them to instead find a cure for the nightmarish love potion that ailed you. They do agree but take longer than they need to, wanting Azul to endure his torturous thoughts a bit longer.

Deuce Spade:

You have poor Deuce stressed OUT. He’s too worried about your well-being to hear any of Ace’s teasing, also focused on keeping his lips covered in case of another surprise attack. He wouldn’t mind under normal circumstances but this doesn’t feel genuine (and he had a much more romantic first kiss in mind for the two of you). He boldly confided in his seniors about you in hopes of them helping with a solution, tightly holding your hand to keep you at bay. He’s willing to go to any length to cure you, even if he’d miss the closeness.

Floyd Leech:

Floyd is willing to milk this situation for all that it’s worth. He particularly enjoyed the squeezing contest you had, and how tightly you clung to him even after he clearly won. He would have loved to keep you all to himself, using your condition to get out of working at Mostro Lounge as it would be hard to cook with you attached to him like you were. Jade is surprised with how long Floyd indulged your clingy behavior, even when he seemed fed up, he knew if he really wanted to push you away and lock you up so you’d leave him alone, he would do it.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil would have used you for all you were worth if he didn’t have feelings for you. He’s frustrated that yet another responsibility was thrust upon him, but turning his back on you was not a choice under these circumstances. It makes it hard to go about his day when he has two different people bothering him all day, but you proved to be the bigger challenge (for now). If he could concentrate he’d have an easier time of finding a solution but there was a part of him that longed for you to continue to worship him, curious how much of this might mirror your relationship if you ended up dating.

Malleus Draconia:

You had always been more honest with Malleus than others, but this was certainly new. As much as he enjoyed your emboldened behavior it didn’t take him long to detect something was off, leaving him conflicted. He wouldn’t mind having a close relationship like this with you, maybe some more boundaries discussed for the sake of Sebek’s heart and everyone else's eardrums, but he was disappointed to know this wasn’t you acting on ‘real’ feelings. He’s even more suspicious about how and why you were splashed with such a potion to begin with, growing rather possessive at the concept of someone trying to steal your heart away from him.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Azul Ashengrotto #Deuce Spade #Floyd Leech #Jamil Viper #Malleus Draconia #azul ashengrotto x reader #deuce spade x reader #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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artemis32 · 2 months

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yandere superfam drabble i

listen, i have a ton of ideas for the batfam. really, i do. but come on. superfam.

dc masterlist

Thinking about Clark and his family as yanderes.

Individually, they're enough of a headache, but together? Damn.

Clark Kent sees himself as your father. The problem with him as a yandere is, he's genuinely terrifying. I mean, ignoring the fact that this man is literally Superman, he's also incredibly delusional.

I think most people downplay, or forget exactly how strong this man is. He's strong, fast, and so insanely smart. All that being said, there is literally zero chance of you avoiding him, under any circumstances.

The only saving grace in this situation is the fact that he's, like I said, delusional. Not in a 'oh, I know this is kind of wrong, but I can justify it as being right' kind of way. Rather, he wholeheartedly believes he's helping you, doing the best thing for you by allowing his obsession and thoughts of you overtake your life.

You don't even have the luxury of a slow descent into the situation. His mindset regarding you shifted really quickly, and by the time you were clued in on it, you'd already been stolen away to a farm in the middle of nowhere, ripped away from your life without warning.

The only aspect of his mindset that doesn't quite fit in with the delusional yandere archetype is the fact that, if you push the right buttons, he will absolutely fly off the handle. That in itself proves that, no matter how much he insists otherwise, he knows what he's done to you is wrong.

Jon Kent is a carbon copy of his father. He firmly believes that your place in life is with them, as a part of their family. The fact that you weren't born into the family means nothing to him. If you weren't meant to be with them, the your paths would never have crossed.

The only difference between him and Clark is that Jon has no doubt in his mind that what they're doing is okay. Clark is delusional; Jon is deranged. A part of you believes you can't really blame him - he's a child, a product of his environment. If that's what he was taught his whole life, by the people he loved and trusted, then of course he didn't see a problem with it. But the larger part of you still hated him, hated the fact that he saw you as the crazy one, as if his family hadn't abducted you from your crappy Metropolis apartment in the middle of the night.

And the fact that he was a few years younger than you didn't stop him from treating you like a child. Granted, he was insanely strong and fast, but that didn't mean you had to enjoy him manhandling you as easily as his father and brother whenever he thought you were getting too fussy.

Conner Kent, a few years your senior, isn't like Clark or Jon. He's completely aware of what they're doing to you, of how invasive and creepy it is. He just doesn't care.

I'd almost argue that him being fully aware of how wrong it all was might've been creepier than the shared delusion of Clark and Jon, especially since he could stare you dead in the eye, blank faced at the sight of your tears, and tell you in the most monotonous voice you've ever heard that he didn't care about what you wanted.

Besides a few uncanny moments with him, he was mostly pretty cocky and snide, with this keen way of getting under your skin. It's almost as if he revelled in the fact that you knew he knew they were wrong, the fact that he could do something to help you get away from all this, but he just... didn't.

The worst part was, if he hadn't, you know, kidnapped you, you might've liked him. He was easy to like, if you ignored the annoying sarcasm and ever-present smirk, the type of person you might've wanted to be friends with.

Too bad he spoiled all that by being batshit crazy.

Lois Lane, to her credit, was against the idea at first. She acted as the voice of reason in the family. Or, at least, she tried to. But the men in her family were nothing if not determined.

She realised how crazy, how morally wrong it was to rip someone away from their life for what you thought might be best for them. She also realised how terrified you'd be, surrounded by people, beings who were so much stronger than you, able to subdue you with little more than the tip of a pinky finger.

But, in the end, they won her over. The idea of someone to take care of, someone normal in the family - someone like her, and a daughter to boot - the offer was too sweet to pass up on. She's an odd mix of mindsets, a point somewhere between Clark's delusion and Conner's unwavering sanity, and that makes her scarier than the rest of them, somehow.

The fact that she knows it's wrong, but is able to convince herself it's for your own good - that's terrifying.

Though, she is great in the motherly role, acting as neutral ground for whenever one of the others overwhelm you past what you can reasonably handle. She seems to have a sixth sense for your threshold too, appearing as if out of thin air whenever you're close to snapping at one of the three men who are always in your hair.

Out of all four of them, you'd admit to liking her the most, though admittedly, it's for a selfish reason. She's the easiest person to slip by - the rest of them have super sight and hearing, and even if you could slip away, they'd catch up to you in a few seconds flat. Lois, as much as you may dislike her, was only human. Yes, she had this weird sense for when you'd try to pull something, but for the most part, you had more leeway with her than anyone else.

As a result, you stuck to her like glue, which lead to Jon whining that you were playing favourites. Jon, you could understand. He was a child, one who was used to getting his way most of the time. Clark, however, also tended to develop a strangely endearing pout whenever you ignored him, one that had even Lois caving and forcing you to spend time with someone other than her.

One thing all of them had in common was the fact that they were so damn clingy. They seemed magnetically drawn to you, hanging off of you like children at all hours of the day. It was infuriating, constantly having your personal space intruded upon.

Even at night, when you tried to sleep, you'd wake to find Conner or Jon sliding in beside you, or, even worse, you'd mysteriously wake up in Clark and Lois' bed the next morning. That always made you uncomfortable - how had they managed to move you several rooms down without you once waking up?

Your only saving grace was that all four had their own lives outside of the household, often leaving for work or school, or even patrols, so you very rarely had to deal with all four at the same time. Your favourite days were the ones when it was just you and Lois. You could slip away in the morning, right after Jon caught the bus to school, and spend the entire day away from the prison-like household.

They at least trusted you enough to let you roam around the farm freely. Well, not trusted, exactly. More like, they knew you couldn't get far before one of them caught up to you.

The perks of living in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

On the bright side, they acted as if the entire household revolved around you. You could decide what everyone ate for breakfast and dinner, you could decide the 'family activity' of the week. They tended to give in to what you wanted pretty easily, on the condition that you gave them something in return, whether it be attention, affection, or some crudely handmade gift that wasn't worth much.

Despite their joyful front though, they could all be terrifying, especially Clark. You'd learnt that the hard way when they'd first taken you. One of them snapping usually only happened if you put yourself in harm's way, but there were other circumstances where they (Clark), felt punishment was warranted.

You'd once made the mistake of making genuinely hurting Lois (or, her feelings at least), to the point of making her cry. Once, and never again.

But since then, you'd learnt how to play your cards, how to skate by in the Kent household with only a small dose of anxiety. You'd managed to avoid being metaphorically (and literally) shackled to the bed, like when you'd first arrived. Time had made things easier - time, and getting to know them.

As much as you were loathed to admit it, getting to know them had made it easier to handle them. It'd been a hard pill to swallow originally, but as the months went by, you'd had to accept the fact that you weren't going anywhere, and it was better to adapt to the situation than remain sullen and miserable for the rest of your life.

They seemed to believe you were slowly but surely coming around to the idea of being a part of their family. You definitely acted like it. But deep down, you were biding your time, waiting, planning for the perfect moment.

You'd leave, run and hide, go to furthest corner of the earth to get away from them. You always thought you would, and one day, you did.

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bluegiragi · 5 months

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okay, first of all, absolutely goddamn feral about you, your art, writing, ideas and aus i am chewing on the bars of my cage and foaming at the mouth and screeching incoherent and rolling around on the floor and- ough... anyway

i do have a very self indulgent question, particularly about Monster AU Ghost and Price, but also extending towards the rest of 141 with their involvement

at one point you mentioned that wraiths were rare, and ghost would likely feel pity towards another one

what would happen if they did come across another wraith? especially someone fairly fresh, maybe even young, younger than any of them. is there anything anyone could do to help them? would they help? price seems to know how to handle ghost well enough, and seems like hes been around since ghost's transformation, but how would ghost himself handle seeing someone else go through something like what he did? if he had to, what advice would he give them that he never got?

just been rotting in my brain 😭 ily gira and i hope youre taking care of yourself, thank you so much for the work you put in and share with us 🥺💕

this!! is!! such a good question, anon!!!! I think there's a lot of sides to that kind of situation, especially if it’s a younger person since I hc Ghost as having a massive soft spot for kids.

lots of writing under the cut!!! my braincells were FEASTING.

I think if it was just Ghost and the newly-born wraith, he'd try to mercy-kill it. The circumstances that lead to the creation of a wraith are truly harrowing, and while Simon understands the desire for revenge that burns at the core of every freshly made wraith, he also believes their plight is a kind of torture. In his mind, it would be kind to put one out of their misery. He wouldn't take any pleasure in it - I think overall, it would be a miserable affair for all parties involved.

If Price or any of the others were around, I think they’d try to convince him to take them under his wing so to speak. But while Ghost currently operates decently with his support system, he’s extremely lucky and should be considered the exception to the trend. Price was instrumental in his recovery - years of working under him solidified Price in his subconscious as an authority figure he could trust. When Ghost lost control, he could still rely on instinct - even with his mind fracturing, Price never changed. But not everyone has this kind of person immediately available to them, and it was crucial that Price got to him as soon as he did. What Ghost is now is not what a wraith commonly looks like. Price dragged him back from a brink.

New wraiths are sort of like rabid dogs, with no sense of self preservation. They’d approach every confrontation with the kind of frenzy you’d see in someone fighting for their life. They’d also be basically impossible to immobilize - you’ve seen how Simon goes wispy at times, imagine trying to handcuff a cloud of smoke. If it came down to a situation where any of the 141 were in danger, Ghost wouldn’t hold back. He’d put the other wraith down.

But if Ghost met another wraith who’d survived that first explosion of fury and managed to calm down, AND the 141 were with him, I think he’d try to help. They bring out the best in him.

#also as an aside on the price ghost situation #it was a real blind leading the blind situation during his recovery #not a lot is known about wraiths and practically nothing about minimising their…wraithiness #so price was just acting knowing that this was Simon now #and Simon needed him #I promise I’m going to draw this whole thing in a backstory plot line #askbox #anon

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askdiscordwhooves · 4 months

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This update was drawn by me, @jitterbugjive

I want to address one thing that I KNOW some people are going to complain about because they've already complained about if it would happen, and that’s The Doctor and Derpy getting together in the end. I understand the concerns. This is in no way meant to say ‘your abusers will eventually change for the better if you just say the right things to them’. This isn’t that kind of story. These are special circumstances that DO NOT EXIST in real life where the abuser was under MAGICAL mind control. That’s not who he actually is and when he’s himself he’s not remotely an abuser. He is safe from having a relapse, the curse is gone and over with because the core Discord was killed while the fragment left over in their universe has been reformed.

Real abusers are not under any kind of puppetry or mind control when they do what they do, and no not even getting drunk counts as this because when someone is an abusive drunk they’re still choosing to get drunk when they are well aware of what they do when under the influence. If The Doctor did any of this abuse on his own terms, I wouldn’t have let them get back together. I’m an abuse survivor, I know better than that. When you try to compare completely fantasy scenarios that can’t happen in real life to.. Well, real life, you’re kind of reaching at straws at that point. Besides, this relationship wasn’t automatically better just because he returned to normal. Both of them suffered damage and trauma and both needed to navigate around it to be able to trust one another again. If there’s any kind of comparison to make, it’d be more like a loved one suffering a psychotic episode and doing horrible things they’d never do in their right mind. And some people are able to understand and forgive, while others are not. The pain of having a psychotic episode and saying and doing things that hurt people is really hard to overcome, it’s hard to trust yourself and it can be hard to make amends. But a psychotic episode does not dictate who a person is. It just doesn’t. And that’s the closest thing to reality this story is. I tried to handle this as best I could, because in my line of work recovery is the most important thing and I understand that someone coming out of a bad episode needs support and compassion (Unless they’re a terrible person in general) and there have been extreme cases where perfectly good people end up going as far as murder- even murdering their own children, but their loved ones are able to reason that they were sick and they are going to suffer great pain upon realizing what they’d done, and they are going to seek help. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to forgive someone who did terrible things in a psychotic state, and that’s within your right, but it doesn’t mean people who can forgive are any less valid. Listen, if a husband can be capable of not blaming his wife for killing their kids in a psychotic state (a very real event that happened rather recently, simply google “wife psychosis news killed children husband forgives” and you’ll find it), it's perfectly reasonable that someone can forgive someone who was under magical mind control.

If you are in a physically abusive relationship, you need to get out of it. The likelihood of this person changing for the better is extremely low, and you can’t cling to the idea of the rare few people who manage to work through these kind of things. Those are very special circumstances and in my opinion if there’s a relapse into violence after making genuine efforts to change, that should be the end of it once and for all. It shouldn’t be happening to begin with, it should not be tolerated. You matter, you deserve to be treated with kindness and compassion. Never let anyone tell you or make you feel otherwise. Please take care of yourselves, and DO NOT use this story as a basis for how to manage your own relationships, no matter how much you might think you see yourselves in it. This is fiction, and the scenarios in this story do not happen in real life. If you can’t discern reality from fiction, that is all on you, not me.

#discord whooves #doctor whooves #my little pony #derpy hooves #dinky #sparkler #warden #aurora #pierce #neosurgeon #carrot top #jack harkness #disclaimer

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mr-mandalorian · 6 months

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pr relationship, fake dating, fluff & angst.

it all started with that stupid ad. girlfriend wanted. a two year gig with insane pay, how could a broke student say no to that? not that she expected it to be real, let alone to get chosen for the job.

yet here she was, negotiating her contract for a few extra perks. not exactly where she expected to use her law degree, but it was coming in handy.

the whole thing was so secretive, she presumed she’d have to put a smile on for some old b lister, pretend to adore a wrinkly wandering hand. she surely did not anticipate the most gorgeous and charismatic man to show up for their first date.

lando made it so easy. while before she stressed if she could even fabricate an ounce of affection for someone she didn’t know, the real challenge now was not to catch feelings. she could see why his playboy image needed cleaning up, given the chance and under different circumstances, she would not hesitate going home with him.

she tried her best to keep it professional. and there was a lot of work to do, from soft launching on instagram to perfecting her smile for the paparazzi. really, she was nothing more than an employee. it was difficult though, when the line between real and fake kept blurring.

race weekends were becoming more than she could handle. lando was constantly in her space, always touching her in some way. and the issue was that she didn’t mind at all, she got so used to it that she didn’t even notice how it followed them behind closed doors. they fell into a sort of domestic routine, moving between countries and hotel rooms. lando’s head in her lap as she listened back to a lecture in bed, showering together when lando could barely stand straight after training.

“sign this.” she pulled out a mclaren cap one day, making lando dramatically gasp.

“you’ve been a fan this whole time? did they fail to background check you?”

“it’s for my dad. don’t let it go to your head, if it was up to him, i’d be fake dating lewis instead of you.” of course her family weren’t aware of their arrangement, and y/n was more than happy to keep it that way.

“wow okay, and you’re on first name basis with lewis already?” lando laughed as y/n looked away in embarrassment. he did as told though, finding her flustered state the cutest thing in the world.

it wasn’t on their calendar, but lando begged her to come golfing. he couldn’t handle being away from her for too long anymore. so she shook hands with carlos, a face she was familiar with, and the girl he brought along for what was turning out to be a double date.

y/n didn’t care for sports much, but seeing lando in his element was always entertaining. she sat in the little cart watching him beat carlos when his date came to join her. before y/n could open her mouth, the sweet smile she had was quickly turning into a sour face.

“ah, the darling wag.” carlos’ partner said, looming over y/n. “you guys are doing such a good job at pretending, it’s almost like there’s no pretending at all. you do know he’ll drop you the moment your contract is up?”

all y/n could do was sit there red in the face. surely she could’ve phrased it nicer, but it was a good reminder nevertheless. she watched as the woman came up to the golf players, a cheshire grin on her face as she asked lando to teach her. the mclaren driver didn’t waste a second wrapping his arms around her, hands guiding hands. y/n wanted to throw up.

as expected, photos of carlos’ date practically grinding herself on lando reached social media in minutes, y/n left to clean up the mess. that’s what she was here for after all, to keep up appearances and dismiss her feelings.

lando didn’t notice something wrong until y/n proposed going out. she hasn’t been out since undergrad, but all she wanted now was to drown her sorrows. what a fool she was to have her heart open. she dragged lando through a crowded club, hating how perfectly her hand fit in his.

taking shots like water, lando could only escalate the situation through sheer amazement. he’s never seen this side of her, only the cool and collected y/n he’s grown incredibly fond of. her touch felt different too, kissing him like they were the only two people in the room.

he had to carry her back into the hotel room, y/n still humming the lyrics of sweet escape by gwen stefani into his neck. and when lando placed her down into bed, she refused to let go.

eyes half lidded and pupils blown out, her gaze jumped between his eyes and lips. when the f1 driver first caught word of a pr relationship being orchestrated for him, he could only laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. and yet here he was, being pulled into bed by the most divine woman he’s ever laid eyes on.

but this was not how he wanted it.

“we can’t, y/n.”

“silly me, there’s no cameras around.”

“is that what this is about? i want to. so bad that it hurts, you know? no cameras, just you and me.”

“just you and me.” she sighed in content, her sweet voice repeating him. he nearly caved in then, but he needed sober words. he needed it to be real.

it was a distant memory in morning, y/n retching the contents of her stomach with lando holding back her hair. she could barely recall their last conversation, the shame of her throwing herself at him was the only thing she could focus on. she wished for the earth to open and swallow her whole.

the golf incident got replaced with photos of lando manhandling her after the club, so at least that was taken care of. but there was a switch after that, y/n a better actress than she gave herself credit. while she smiled wide for the cameras, she kept her distance when no one was around. she was done bending the line of real and fake.

after the season, she had to come stay with lando in monaco. it only made sense, their one year mark just around the corner. and while lando tried his best, bringing her flowers every other day and inviting her for sleepovers in his room, y/n stayed locked up in the guest room with dead flowers in the bin.

there was much to prepare for their anniversary. write and rewrite captions, scope out a location that was private yet visible for photographs. she was operating like working a nine to five, her mind completely void and just going through the motions. so when she got back to lando’s after an early nail appointment, she truly didn’t know how to react seeing a girl just about to leave.

“oh my god, y/n!” the girl seemed just as surprised, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. “i thought- i’m sorry! i thought you guys had broken up…”

“um- yeah, yeah… we’re on a break, i’m just here to grab a few things.” through gritted teeth, she squeezed out a smile and an excuse that would cover for her so called boyfriend.

she could hear the shower running as she waved the hookup out the door. she didn’t know if she wanted to cry or go absolutely hysteric on lando.

“what the actual fuck were you thinking?” she asked once he came out of the bathroom, curls wet and a very satisfied look on his face.

“what? it’s not like we’re actually dating. you’ve made that very clear, love.”

“we may not be dating, but the public thinks we are!”

“so? she won’t tell.”

“you actually believe that? i just had to make up some bullshit excuse about how we’re on break so you wouldn’t look like a bloody cheater!”

“well you’re a lawyer, make her sign an nda or something.” lando did not yet grasp the severity of the situation, finding it amusing while y/n could only see red.

“you’re unbelievable. i’m fucking done, i can’t do this anymore.” she pushed past him, beginning to pack her things. contractual obligation or not, she was done vouching for him.

“come on, y/n, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“just you and me, huh? you’re such a piece of shit, lando.”

that grounded him quickly, but nothing he said could make her change her mind. if she left now, she would be violating their agreement. not only would she not get compensated fully, she’d be thrown under the bus. she couldn’t care less about it now though, using the last of her savings to get home. she was back in england with no money and a broken heart.

it’s only been a few days, but rumors of y/n being unfaithful and leaving the mclaren golden boy hurting were all over twitter. she should’ve known better, she was naive to believe that a manufactured relationship could run smoothly.

she was holding up just fine until today. one whole year of y/n signing that stupid contract. she was in mourning, rotting in bed of her childhood bedroom. she gave up her apartment shortly after getting with lando.

she could hear hushed voices in the living room, her dad softly knocking on her door. she eyed him suspiciously, blood pressure rising as she noticed the man adorning an autographed mercedes cap on his head. realizing what it meant, she wanted to scream at her father for selling out so easily.

she didn’t say a word as lando came in view. humiliating enough, she was wearing his hoodie. she told herself she packed it with her on accident, but she knew in her heart of hearts she wanted to keep a piece of him.

“i’m sorry.”

“that’s it?” lando wanted to cry looking at her stone cold face. he’d give anything to go back to a time where she’d throw her arms around him after a race. it didn’t matter if he did good or bad, y/n would be there to suffocate him with a rib crushing hug. he could still remember the taste of her cherry chapstick, the warmth of her skin. now they stood at a distance, like strangers who have never shared a word between them.

“no, just- why did you not tell me you remembered? i was being honest that night. i- i want you. i remember our first date, how you laughed at one of my stupid jokes. i knew i was fucked then, that i’d be forever chasing that feeling of making you smile. and yeah, at first i thought you just couldn’t remember because you were completely shitfaced. but then you got cold and i could only assume the worst, that you remembered and didn’t feel the same. so i went and slept with someone, just to forget about not being able have you. and i know- i know, it’s a bullshit excuse. but it’s the honest truth.”

“you made me breach contract, i don’t- i don’t know-“

“for fuck’s sake, i just told you i’m in love with you and you still think i’m here just because of some stupid contract?”

she looked away. she was too scared, too hurt to try again. lando took a step closer, hoping she wouldn’t take one back. when she didn’t, he reached out to hold her. nuzzling her face into his chest, she could hear just how fast his heart was beating. he was terrified of losing her again.

“just you and me. for real this time.”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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lilgoblinbitch · 23 days

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Sweetheart 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

from Anon: "I kinda need that rick grimes dumbification you teased at. I know you crushed it"

a/n: yes this was one of the drafts i mentioned on my poll a bit ago! I had a lot of fun writing this. enjoy!

warnings: 18+, PinV unprotected sex, slight dumbification, fingering, slight choking, angst, kinda mean/mocking Rick, edging, cussing, cum swallowing, very vague mentions of past drug usage. (lmk if i missed anything)

wc: 4.3k

Rick Grimes and you had an unsteady ‘relationship.’ Ever since Glenn Rhee, your best friend, welcomed you into the group, you and Rick constantly butted heads. It was like you couldn't agree on any one thing to save both of your lives. And whenever the two of you were alone, Rick often acted as your chaperon, always on your tail nagging you about how you were going to “get yourself hurt.” It irked you to your core. You could handle yourself, and you proved that to him plenty of times, but it just never seemed like Rick was going to trust you under any circumstance.

Glenn and Maggie liked to snicker to themselves, teasing you from time to time that Rick probably had a little crush on you, but you never understood how. That man never even smiled at you; all he did was badger you and make you feel like a fool. What the hell did they know?

“No! I’m not going on a run with him alone, Glenn. You know I’d rip his head off once he starts acting like an authoritative asswipe. And that would be on you for making me go.” You argued with Glenn, who was already scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“Y/n, honestly. You need to learn how to get along with him. Trust me, he’s not a bad guy. Remember I told you about how he led us out of Atlanta? We would have been part of the dead geeks back in the city if it weren’t for him.” Glenn was always the best motivational speaker, and sometimes you disliked how right he could be.

“I know he’s not a bad guy. I know what he did. But that doesn’t change the fact that Rick has never really treated me like one of you guys. I feel like he’s always seen me as just some — some bitch who got lucky finding a group of strong survivors,” You turned to Glenn, who was rubbing his face like he had a counter argument ready to be made, but you spoke again before he could. “Besides, Rick has never once asked me to go on runs with him, this would be awkward.”

“Not unless you make it awkward. Look, there’s no use in the two of you resenting each other, so I think this might be helpful.”

“I don’t feel like I’m helpful, though... helpful enough, I mean,” you admitted, glancing back up at Glenn who was staring at you intently, a sympathetic glint in his eyes. “I feel like I don’t pull my own weight around here very much. I mean, at least outside the walls. Just wanna feel more useful, and Rick often made me feel the opposite.”

“Well, I know you feel that way because I know you well. But you know you do more than enough for this community, especially keeping inventory and helping Olivia manage rations, and you helped rebuild the walls. You’re strong, and you’re one of us. That’s why Rick is taking you on this next run,” He reassured and patted your back lightly. You blushed and nudged your best friend on the shoulder. He never failed to put a smile on your face. “Come on, this is your chance for you to prove yourself to him. I believe in you.”

Of course you could never say no to Glenn, especially when he was so kind to you all the time. Seriously, the guy didn’t have a mean bone in his body. So, you gave Glenn a half-smile, swallowed your bitterness and stomped your way over to the gate where Rick was already waiting.

“You got the list?”

The car was dead silent, besides the rumbling sound of the tires on the road. Rick was driving, his eyes hyper focused on the road ahead, and just for a few ticks he looked down at his pocket to pull out a crumbled slip of paper. With his gaze back on the road, he held the paper out for you to grab. When you went to grab it from his hand, you could have sworn you felt his fingers graze yours for a split second. Although that didn’t seem to affect Rick very much, as his eyes were still glued to the road and both hands gripping the steering wheel.

Sighing softly, you unfolded the slip of paper and read it under your breath. Your eyes scanned it — not much was on the list, considering a team already went on a supply run the week before, and since you were in charge of inventory you knew the supply for food was not low. Looked like all you’d need to find today were extra rounds of ammunition and a few flare guns.

You desperately wanted to speak, to break the uncomfortable silence that occupied the car, but nothing in your head seemed adequate. So you slumped in your seat and picked at the loose skin of your fingertips while waiting to arrive at your destination.

After a short while the car reached a halt, and Rick wasted no time in getting out. “We’re here, grab a bag from the back and let’s go.” He shut the car door and opened the back door, reaching in to grab a backpack and sling it onto his shoulders. You did the same, after stuffing the list in your back pocket. The car was parked a few hundred feet from a worn-down gun shop on the side of the road. You honestly would have missed it if it weren’t for Rick and Daryl already scoping the place out last month; trees, overgrown grass, and shrubs all contributed to the clandestine nature of the shack.

The two of you took down a few walkers that popped out of the woods near the car before making your way into the rustic shop. You slipped your dagger back into its sleeve and pulled the list back out of your pocket. Rick was preoccupied with scoping the area, ensuring no walkers or other living beings were lurking in hidden areas of the room. The shop had a cabin vibe to it, and even the cobweb added to the scenery.

Your eyes never lingered too long on one area of the room — you needed to find flare guns while Rick gathered the other items. Each step you took around the shop sent the floorboards squeaking, earning nasty looks from the sheriff. Rolling your eyes, you stepped quieter across the room. Soon enough you found a small wooden crate collecting dust underneath a broken shelf. Inside it were random items like a piece of rope, a toolbox, and a few other paltry trinkets. You pursed your lips and raised a brow, grabbing the dusted, rusty old toolbox and holding it up in the light. You swiped the layer of dust that coated the lid and then snapped it open. Your lungs released a dissatisfied sigh when you noticed all that was left in there was a wrench and a rusty nail. Bummer.

“We need another wrench? ‘Cause I just found one!” You joked, scanning the room for Rick, until you realized he wasn’t in your view anymore. You huffed and took the wrench, throwing it into your bag and placing the useless toolbox back onto the shelf.

It didn’t take you long to find Rick, who was shoving his find of items into his bag in another room. “Rick,” you caught his attention abruptly, but only for a moment. He went back to packing stuff into his bag. “Only thing I found was a wrench, there was nothing–”

“I got everything we need,” Rick interrupted. He shuffled by you after zipping up the backpack and swinging it on his back.

This man really knew how to push your buttons; you were truthfully at your breaking point. Before he could leave the room you snagged his arm, turning him to face you. You were irritable, and he could see it painted all over your face with the way your eyes pierced into his. Rick sucked in his cheeks and held your stare, before turning his head to the wall and running a hand through his tousled hair.

You thought back to what Glenn told you — the pointers and pep talk he gave you before you left with Rick. This was the only time you would be able to talk with Rick with his undivided attention and no distractions around you.

“We need to get past this bullshit,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“What bullshit?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Rick.” His eyes met yours again. The self-assuredness you fought so hard to keep dwindled, like the wick of a candle crumbling under the dying fire.

“I– we, um…” you licked your lips and collected your composure, “You know we’ve never really been on the best of terms, ever since Glenn found me on the road to Virginia…”

Rick’s silence and fierce gaze made this all the more difficult for you. You were never great at confrontation in the first place, and this man just had to complicate it even more. “Ever since then, we haven’t really been able to get along.”

“We saw things differently. And you didn’t trust me,” he jeered.

“You didn’t trust me,” You retorted.

“Guess we’re even, then.”

You grinned, but not a happy grin — a grin that could convince your mind that you were satisfied in this moment. It was something you usually did as a child; you thought that if you smiled really hard then maybe your brain would actually think you were happy. It didn’t work right now, though. You turned away from Rick, the grin faltering and a frown replacing it.

“I never meant for things between us to get this complicated and tense… I was in a really rough place when Glenn found me and I could only trust him.” You peered at him once more, “Rick, I’m sorry if–”

He shushed you, a hand reaching up to your cheek to comfort you. This was something foreign to you; the only times he touched you was if he was handing something to you and his hand ‘accidentally’ brushed against yours. Now, his hand was placed on your cheek, and his eyes softened after seeing your tender ones pleading at him.

“I’m sorry, too…”

You were close now, his body only inches from yours. One tiny step forward and your bodies would collide. But that wouldn’t happen — couldn’t happen. You would not let it...

“Rick,” you stepped backwards a foot, not anticipating to crash into the wall behind you. His focus was on you, only you, and it made you feel many different things. “I need to know — I need you to tell me we’re okay now. That we–” his body was inching closer to yours again, and you tensed up. “Tell me we’re on good terms now.”

“I shouldn’t have waited this long.”

You were flustered, cheeks beet red. Your back was flush against the wall, hands gripping the paneling for support. “Waited...for what?”

Rick’s taller frame finally pressed against yours. You shuddered under the pressure. “Waited...to touch you–” his eyes darted across your face, landing on your puffy pink lips, “Wanted to, for so long.”

Your lips parted, unsteady breaths leaking out. You swore you could feel your heart pounding on your chest, begging to tear it open. His lips were nearing yours, and there was nothing you could do to stop it — nothing you wanted to do to stop it, at least.

He leaned in close, breath a fervent cloud bouncing off your face. “I think you want it, too.”

A fire ignited inside you, one full of an almost unfamiliar sensation — lust. Something you’d suppressed for so long and never realized you still had in you. Rick Grimes seemed to be the only man to successfully light that spark in you.

It was time to disregard the small voice in your head, the one that was screaming and scolding you for letting lust conquer your conscience. Rick could see right through your tough shell; you were like putty in his grip. So desperate for him to touch you.

Rick tutted at you, thumb pad pressing your chin, directing your eyes to his magnetic blue ones. “Knew you were needy f’me. Ever since you first looked at me.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” His hand snuck down to your denim crotch, fingers briskly tracing the zipper.

“I need to know, Rick — why you always fucking nagged me. If you wanted me, why would you make me believe the exact opposite?” You interrogated, trying to divert the topic to distract the fog clouding your mind. Rick’s finger traced designs across the v-line of your crotch, your breath hitching in your throat each time he dragged a digit down closer to your clothed heat. “You never–” you swallowed hard, gathering your composure back, “You never have long enough conversations with me, just quick enough to avoid our usual tension. And, I don’t recall us ever going on a run alone together.”

Rick’s eyes pierced into yours, his fingers coming to a halt at the hem of your jeans. “The only time I ever see you is when you need to check in on our ammunition and inventory, or when you need me to watch Judith. Even then you don’t really talk to me much.” You slapped Rick’s hand away from your pants, exasperation washing over you. “Oh, and, I can’t forget to mention that you weren’t even the one who invited me on this fucking run. Glenn did!”

Rick took a step back from you, placing his hands on his hips. He bit his lip, averting his eyes to the ground. Your brows furrowed in displeasure. You were aware that Rick was most likely working up something to retort, however impatience got the best of you.

A groan from you filled the silent air. “Please, just explain it to me! Tell me something. Anything!”

The look in his eyes was intensely passionate. You were crumbling against the wall; just his eyes had that effect on you.

“You were like a lost puppy for Glenn, and then Daryl for a while. And it made me angry because–” He closed the gap between you once again, “You were too caught up in acting like a whore instead of being with me.”

Rick’s face was close to yours, his hot breath fading into your own. You were too shocked to react, too dumbfounded by his choice of words. Did he really deem you a whore?

“I was protecting you all along, and you were too dumb to fucking realize that, huh?” His gruff voice boomed in your eardrums and sent shockwaves through your body. “I should have had you sooner, that was my mistake. But I have you here now, Y/N.” A hand slithered across your neck, gently squeezing it. You bit your lip in anticipation, squeezing your legs together to create friction for your aching core — an arousal you didn’t quite recognize until Rick grabbed your throat and brought it to life.

You were aroused, and Rick acknowledged it. There was no need to keep hiding it. Hastily you grabbed Rick’s face and smashed your lips together, hungry for him. Being that close to him wasn’t enough — you needed him closer.

The kiss became heated pretty quickly, almost two years worth of sexual tension released from it and relieved moans from the both of you harmonizing within the small shop. Rick’s hand slithered down to your crotch, right where he had left off not too long ago. Only this time, he wasted no time in slipping his hand between the waistband of your pants and the soft fabric of your lace panties. You pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily and eyes half lidded.

“Such a pretty girl… always letting me take care of you, hm? You know I’m s’posed to look out for you, ‘cause you’re too hopeless without me, sweetheart,” he cooed, his hand slipping further down your pants and flicking your panties to the side to expose your dripping heat. His fingers explored your slick folds, and you felt your back arch in response. Your hips bucked forward instinctively; you were in a trance, unable to comprehend your current emotions or actions. This was wrong, it shouldn’t be happening right now. This man hated you — at least, you thought he did; now here he was, playing with your cunt like all grudges were dropped.

Your hands gripped the back of Rick’s neck, fingers latching onto the soft curls at the base of it. Two of his fingers plunged into you without an issue; you were already soaking for him. You felt so vulnerable under this man’s touch, like he placed some sort of spell upon you, and you couldn’t find the strength in you to push him away. Maybe this was supposed to happen — maybe Rick knew what he was doing, and maybe he knew what you needed. At least, it felt like he knew what he was doing.

You couldn’t help but examine his facial features: his scruffy salt and pepper colored facial hair added beautiful texture to his chiseled jawline; his soft pink lips a shade darker than normal from your own lips eating at them; and oh — his eyes. You could never get tired of those eyes. They were hypnotic, a shade of sky blue that reeled you in the longer you stared into them. If this man wasn’t a sheriff, he would’ve done well as a fisherman – judging by the way he reeled you in so effortlessly. Although this man carried himself like he was a stone-cold sergeant, his graceful beauty was downright conspicuous; the fact that you never really considered how attractive Rick really was, honestly boggled you.

The pace of Rick’s fingers quickened and your hips grinded into his hand. His palm pushed against your needy little bundle of nerves, heightening your pleasure. Each thrust of his fingers into your wet heat brought you closer and closer to the edge. “Such a dumb slut. So fucked just from my fingers inside you. S’like you never been fucked before, so tight,” Rick cooed, his tone dripping with vehemence. The sensations were too much — you couldn’t remember the last time someone did this to you, made you feel so good.

Without warning you came undone around Rick’s digits, that nostalgic feeling in your core jetting pleasure all throughout your veins. “Oh, fuck–”

Rick pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to your lips. “Wanna taste yourself, sweetheart?” Except he didn’t wait for a response from you; carefully he slipped both fingers through the entrance of your slightly agape lips. Your tongue licked at his digits, cheeks sucking in as you lapped the juices up, tongue relishing in the bittersweetness of your flavors. Your mind was fuzzy.

Rick slipped his fingers back out of your mouth. “Think I fucked you well enough with my fingers?” He rasped, starting to unbuckle his belt. You swallowed hard, licking your lips, legs still shaking like a chihuahua. “No words? Damn, can’t wait to see how you react when I stuff you with my cock.”

You accepted your fate; rightly so, officer friendly had you at his beck and call. One orgasm was not enough yet, according to the restless motions of your hips, and somehow Rick perceived this before you could. Within seconds his brown jacket, the one he adored wearing — and most importantly, slay his enemies in — was tossed across the wooden plank floorboard and the white t-shirt that hugged his toned frame forgivingly was peeled off. You could not refuse your eyes the opportunity to explore Rick’s body. His sculpted frame was an absolute eye vacation; he wasn’t body-builder buff but he was fit and you could tell he took good care of his health. The skilled celerity of his hands practically ripped off his tattered jeans, landing on the floor with a thump from the weight of his belt and holster. You ogled at his veins popping out, and how they trailed along his forearms and outlined the sculpting of his muscles. These were all things that made you wetter by the minute.

Rick wasted no time in shoving your jeans and panties off, putting your dripping heat on full display. A wicked smirk plastered onto his face, and you scanned his eyes; they were dark and unrelenting. Your body was a pulsing, sweating, yearning machine and Constable Grimes was the only troubleshoot that seemed to exist in that moment.

“You gonna be good while I fuck your cunt?” Hands roughly clutched both of your thighs, setting them at both sides of his hips. Fervently you nodded, feeling the tip of Rick’s leaking cock tease your entrance. Even more of a confirmation of your consent was the manner in which you were wrapped around his hips; you were fiending for the sensation of being filled up by Rick’s cock. “Such a needy slut, I just gotta–” one intense thrust of his hips sent his cock driving sharply into your slippery hole; “fuck the whore outta you and–” thrust, “make you my sweet, sweet girl.” Strained squeaks and whimpers spilled from your panting mouth while Rick pounded into you. A few stray curls danced upon his forehead, sweat drenching his hair.

The man was a fiend for you too, his licentious grunts solid proof of it. “Mmph, fuck, Rick!” Your lewd cries a melody in his ears. Your tight bundle of nerves collided into his pubic bone rhythmically, adding to the concoction of whatever pleasure potion was being poured into your blood. Your strength was depleted, limbs desperately hugging around Rick and fingers clawing into his back.

“So tight for me. Need my cock to stretch y’out, right?” Rick chuckled lowly, the sound reverberating through your body. The thrusts of his hips never ceased, only for a swift moment when he placed you down on his jacket that was lying on the ground and picked right back up with his cock ramming into your cunt. The force shook your legs, and it almost felt like they were going to go numb. Rick was on his knees, holding your legs flush against his torso and shoulders while he found the perfect angle to greet your g-spot with the thumping of his tip against it. Your siren song moans were everything to Rick — however, he wasn’t going to risk having anything impeding this moment, and that meant drawing as little attention to the shop as humanly possible.

“Gotta be good for me, an’ stay fuckin’ quiet.”

His hand clasped your mouth roughly while his hips continued to drive relentlessly into your dripping pussy. His body leaned close into yours, your legs pressed flat to your sides — all spread out for him to fully access your obedient hole. He was hitting all the right spots. His lips eventually replaced his hand on your own mouth, going back and forth between dragging out your bottom lip between his teeth and wrestling your tongue with his — he ended up winning that duel.

Rick attached his lips to your neck, nibbling at the exposed skin with his teeth and evoking hushed mewls from you. He kissed and sucked your skin as he fucked you on top of his jacket. Skin on skin and the wet squelching of your pussy — the sounds were white noise to him.

Your fingers dug into his back and shoulders as he transitioned to a more graceful pace, letting your body shift along with his. “Look at you, goin’ dumb from my cock. Feels good?” He mocked you, smugness washing over his entire face.

You were unable to form coherent sentences, not with how Rick was rocking into you and incessantly ramming his tip into all the right spots. Felt better than any drug you ever did in college. All that clouded your mind was how close you were to reaching the point of no return. “So close,” was what squeaked out of you, stimulation to both your clit and g-stop all too overwhelming. Your body was preparing to succumb to the pressure.

Rick looked down at your features; your face scrunched up in pleasure — mouth making perfect “o” shapes, and sweat gleaming on your skin. You were taking him so well, being so patient for him.

“Tell me how good you feel, sweet girl.”

“So good, Rick! Ungh– need to cum, please!”

He smirked, rubbing circles upon your swollen clit; “Cum f’me.” And that was all you needed to hear to let the jetstream of pleasure erupt through your body, your wet cunt gushing while Rick steadied his pace thrust by thrust. His orgasm was near, you could tell from the way he started twitching inside you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the warm euphoric feeling you were experiencing was clouding your senses. “God, you must love being fucked, huh?” Rick tantalized, admiring the way your tits bounced and how your arms flailed around, reaching for something to grab onto but were too weak to do so. It was bringing him closer to his climax.

The empty feeling he left you after he pulled his cock out made you frown, unable to formally fuss because of the state you were in. He started stroking his shaft, thumbing the pink tip. “Open your mouth, hun,” was the only warning he gave you as he sat you up and released a thick ribbon down your throat. You lazily licked up the treat he gifted you, then lay back down on his jacket.

You simpered in that position while Rick cleaned the both of you up, kissing your cheek as he did so. Glenn was right, somewhat — Rick wasn’t a bad guy, and maybe he did have a crush on you after all. You just weren’t exactly expecting the events that had recently unfolded in a gun shop of all places.

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rileyslibrary · 1 year

Text

Aggressive mimicry

Synopsis: A power blackout hits your base, plunging you into darkness. As fear grips you, Ghost tries to calm you down. Little did he know you had other things in mind.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,085

Notes:

Aggressive mimicry: a tactic in which a predator acts harmless to lure its prey.

Fluff. A little suggestive, but SFW.

No, there’s no part 2.

Want more?

———————————————————————

Looks like you’ll both be working until late this evening. New recruits are constantly arriving, and the base is rapidly filling up.

The two of you take comfort in the silence of your office, a small space with two desks next to each other and a bookshelf full of records lining the opposite wall. It’s a little tight, especially with the new chairs you brought for the interviews. However, you cannot conduct them anywhere else since they’re confidential and private. Your job is to assess the recruits’ mental health, look into any past traumas that may have affected them, and determine their trustworthiness with firearms. Ghost, on the other hand, interviews them about their battlefield abilities and skills.

Under normal circumstances, he does not wear his mask when in the room with you. But these aren’t normal circumstances; People are constantly coming in and out of the office, and he feels uneasy without it.

“He was good, that last one,” he says, his attention still fixed on the paperwork. “Don’t mark him.”

“He suffered three concussions in his last deployment and reeks of alcohol,” you explain, baffled. “How can you trust him?”

“These are the best,” he shrugs, “they’ve got nothing to lose.”

You shake your head, stunned, as you look at him. You two come from different worlds.

“Have you considered therapy, Lt. Riley?” you ask sarcastically.

“Have you considered minding your own business, Dr Y/N?” he snaps back. You knew what he was going to say even before you asked. But you enjoyed teasing him every now and then.

“It’s ‘Professor Y/N,’ please.”

Instead of responding, he mockingly repeats your statement, imitating you and pushing invisible glasses up his nose bridge.

You chuckle, and he turns to look at you, slightly proud that he made you laugh. Your opposing personalities complement each other well, with your order and his chaos balancing each other out. It was like mixing black and white to get some form of grey. And that’s the state you’ve been in for years—in a grey area. You two have never been romantic. Still, the flirting was definitely there, even if it came in the form of playful jabs and teasing.

Ghost shuffles through his papers before turning to face you. “Where are the next ones’ files?” he wonders.

You look over your desk and move your gaze to the bookshelf. “I must have left them on the shelf,” you say as you stand up. “Let me go get them.”

But as you approach the bookshelf, everything goes dark—pitch black.

“What just happened?” you yell in a high-pitched voice.

“The lights went off,” he says calmly. “The base has too many people to handle all that power cons-”

“Shut the fuck up, Lieutenant!”

“You just asked me-”

“I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING!”

You freeze in place, with your back against the bookshelf like a trapped animal. You try to see through the impenetrable darkness, but nothing is visible. Fear grips you and paralyses you.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Ghost says through the darkness, and you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Despite his words, the panic rises. As your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, you get ready to defend yourself. You lash out, grabbing the first thing you can get your hands on and swing right at the source of the touch.

“What the hell, woman!” Ghost curses in pain.

“G-Ghost?” you stammer, “is that you, Lieutenant?”

“How could it be anyone else?” He says and rubs his forehead. “Christ, professor, no wonder you know so much about concussions.”

“Did I get you good?” you ask, worried, “I-I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve had worse,” he assures you, taking your hand and placing it on his chest while muttering soothing words.

As you touch the coarse texture of his uniform, you apply a bit of pressure to get a better feel of him. And just like that, the fear fades gradually, giving way to a more... playful mood. You slide your hand up to his shoulder, then back to his chest. You can feel his heart rate increasing as it desperately pumps the blood it requires for him to stay sane. But he doesn’t need sanity right now; he must lose it completely. So you do it again. He lets out a sigh.

“These are dangerous games you’re playing, Professor,” he warns, trying to sound like his usual self and failing miserably.

“I like taking risks, Lieutenant,” you smirk, tracing circles on his chest with your finger.

He takes your hand off him and steps closer, bridging your gap. Seems like the blood is pumping elsewhere now.

“Fuck, professor,” he murmurs, “I need to go check if they need my help.”

“No,” you command, “what you need to do is stay right here.”

“Like this?” he asks huskily, his breath warm on your forehead.

“Yes, exactly like this.”

But, as he tilts your head towards him and begins to remove his balaclava, the door bursts open, and a blinding light shines in, threatening to expose you.

Your reflexes kick back again. You instinctively push him away and begin screaming, grabbing files from the bookshelf and hurling them at the light source.

“Damn it, Professor!” Ghost yells at you, “You’re hitting the engineers with box files!”

You pause midair and focus on your target; two figures squatted on the ground, their hands protecting their heads.

“Motherf—can’t you knock first?” You yell at them while holding the box file in front of your face. “Should we include basic etiquette in the manual, too?”

They all look at you, puzzled. Unable to comprehend your absurd request, they turn to Ghost.

“Sir, we need help with the generator.” One of them explains, and Ghost nods.

They hand him a flashlight and return to the power junction box, leaving you alone again.

He turns to look at you one last time.

“I’m curious,” he says, leaning in close, “did you plan this all along?”

You raise an eyebrow, acting innocent. “What, the power outage?”

“Are you acting all daft now?” he asks, his eyes forming two thin lines. “The whole screaming and acting vulnerable thing so I could come to your rescue and fall into your trap.”

“Oh, come on, Lieutenant,” you playfully roll your eyes, “don’t pretend like you didn’t want it.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “So you’re okay with staying alone then?”

“Of course I am,” you say seductively, “as long as you come back and let me finish what I started.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod ghost

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chvoswxtch · 2 years

Text

please don't be mad

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt’s run in with his ex has you questioning everything about your relationship, and he’s determined to prove himself to you.

warnings: cursing, lots of angst, fluffy ending, matty being a typical dumbass, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 7.2k

a/n: psa, I am not an elektra anti. I would happily fuck her too. this is once again purely selfish matty content I couldn’t get out of my head. a huge thank you to my darling @yourbucky084 for beta reading, helping edit & providing such helpful feedback. also a big thank you to @pleasurebuttonwrites for helping me figure out what the fuck is behind matty’s bed for this fic lmao. I appreciate you both so much! as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part two]

It felt like I had been staring at the wall in the darkness for hours. My body was aching, begging me to move from my current position lying on my side that I had been stubbornly stuck in for the past forty five minutes, but under absolutely no circumstances would I turn over. I would deal with my body’s stiffness tomorrow. I had tried, and failed, several times to get my brain to just shut off. I silently pleaded for the sweet blanket of unconsciousness to wash over me so that I could get a break from all the noise in my head. Tonight was the worst night to be an insomniac.

“Angel?”

I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard his low voice cut through the silence. Asshole. He knew the effect that his voice had on me, especially at that volume. I tried my hardest to get my aggravated breathing under control to a slow, steady pace. My heart was the one that wouldn’t cooperate. It was still thudding angrily against my chest. I heard a deep sigh cut through the darkness and a rustling of sheets behind me.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re not asleep.”

I felt the bed dip beside me as he turned onto his side to face my back. Despite the coldness of the bedroom, I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Normally, we’d be tangled up together. I always slept best with my head on his chest, leg slung lazily over his hips, completely wrapped up in his arms and warmth. But tonight, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

“Honey, please.”

I grit my teeth and flung the covers off my body, shivering slightly as the awaiting cold nipped at my exposed skin and caused goosebumps to appear everywhere. I gripped onto my pillow and ripped it off the bed, hastily rounding the corner towards the refuge of the living room.

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

Before I had a chance to slide the door open, Matt was on his feet and in front of me in a flash. He gently wrapped his arm around my wrist to halt my movements and firmly grabbed onto my hip to hold me in place.

“Y/N…you’re not sleeping on the couch, come on.”

“Fine. You are.”

I shoved the pillow roughly against Matt’s bare chest, grabbing the handle on the door and sliding it back so hard into the track it nearly made the entire apartment shake. Matt winced at the sound, squinting his eyes and turning his head away from the door. Normally I would have felt bad about the noise considering his sensitive hearing, but tonight I didn’t really give a fuck about his comfort. He sighed deeply as he tossed the pillow onto the bed and took a step towards me.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t want to go to bed angry. Please.”

“Well maybe you should’ve thought of that earlier Matthew, before you hooked up with your ex at a fucking party and tried to lie about it.”

“Y/N that’s...that’s not what happened. I told you, we just kissed…and I explained why.”

“Right, and I’m supposed to just take your word for it? After you’ve told me how many lies tonight Matthew?”

“I didn’t-”

“You blew me and Foggy off because you said you had an ‘important meeting’ with your special ‘client’. And then you come through that door, wearing a disheveled tux, with the collar covered in red lipstick I might add, and I find out you actually went to a gala with her.”

“Because she had a lead about information that could help take down the Yakuza!”

I had been seeing violent shades of red ever since Matt walked through the front door. I was pissed when I saw that he was wearing a tux, which was not what he had left Foggy and I’s company in, but the second I spotted the lipstick on his collar, I was fucking livid. Matt must have sensed the shift in my emotions because he immediately pulled off his glasses and raised his hands up slowly in surrender, quickly spitting out an “I can explain”.

My blood only began to boil at the mention of her name. Elektra. Matt had reluctantly, and very briefly, told me about her one night when we had first started dating. The gaps that he left, Foggy unenthusiastically filled in later on. He very clearly had not been a fan of hers, and I grew to understand why.

The more I learned about her, the more my disdain grew for the way she treated Matt. The way she left him..and what she had tried to do to him..what she had tried to make him do before she disappeared. I couldn’t believe he would actually want to be around her again after everything she had put him through. She had almost ruined his life, and after that night, he said he never wanted to speak about her again. I didn’t press it. I didn’t want to upset him, and honestly I didn’t care if I ever heard her name again. All I wanted to do was make up for her faults, and show Matt how much he deserved to be loved. I promised him that I would always accept him for exactly who he was. I never once tried to change him. Not like her.

I was beyond incandescent when her name so easily rolled off his tongue. I had been seething all night since his earlier confession. I was pissed she’d had the audacity to show up after all these years just to torment him all over again. But mainly, I was outraged at Matt for letting her, and for lying to me about it. When he finally came clean about being Daredevil, he swore he would never lie again, no matter what. While anger coursed through my veins, there were hints of hurt and betrayal that made every rush sting even more.

“And that makes it all okay?”

“No, of course it doesn’t. I just..I need you to understand that’s all it was, okay? A mission. That’s it. The last thing I ever wanted was to see her again, but she had something I needed. Something that could help me actually get rid of them, for good this time. I couldn’t pass that up. They’re too dangerous.”

“Then why did you lie about it? If that’s all it was, why couldn’t you tell me the truth? Why couldn’t you tell Foggy the truth?”

Matt averted his head downwards, placing both of his hands on his hips as he stood there silently. His lips parted slightly, taking in a deep breath as if the words he was searching for would be laced within the oxygen hitting his lungs.

“I don’t know. I just..I didn’t want to start a fight. I’m sorry. Please…don’t be mad.”

That rage that had been brewing inside me ever since he walked through that door was suddenly bubbling like molten lava, and I was about to fucking erupt. I grabbed the closest thing on the nightstand and flung it directly at Matt’s head. I knew it wouldn’t actually hit him, not that I really wanted to, but I couldn’t think straight through all my fury. He dodged the vase just in time as the ceramic shattered in cataclysmic pieces against the wall, shock written evidently all over his features by my uncharacteristic outburst.

“Mad? You think I’m mad? I’m fucking furious, Matthew! There aren’t words strong enough for how I feel right now. You lied. Again. And I’m supposed to, what, just be okay with it? Just be okay with the fact that you’re dressing up and running around New York with your ex to lavish galas because it’s for the greater fucking good?”

“Sweetheart, it was just for information, okay? I swear. Look by the time we found the ledger, they already knew we were there. We snuck a floor down and pretended to be a lost drunk couple so that we didn’t get shot. It was strictly a distraction. If they had found us and figured out what we were actually doing, they would’ve killed us.”

“Well if she’s so fucking impressive, why didn’t she go by herself? She didn’t need you there, she wanted you there. And you willingly went. You could have said no.”

Matt ran a hand through his messy brown hair, clearly annoyed that I wasn’t seeing things his way, and rubbed his palm across the stubble on his right cheek. He dropped his hands to place them on his hips once again and shook his head slowly, pointing his chin in my direction.

“You’re right. I should’ve said no. I should’ve let her go alone, and I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning. I just…I really didn’t want to start a fight.”

“I’m done fighting with you, Matthew.”

I felt completely drained, like all the life had been sucked out of me steadily ever since he walked through that door. Our fight earlier was explosive, definitely the worst one we’ve ever had. One of the only ones we’ve ever had. I thought it had depleted all of my energy, but the way he kept trying to justify his actions kept fueling the fire. I was tired of being lied to. I was tired of him disregarding my feelings about this whole situation, and not even trying to understand why I felt the way I did. I was tired of feeling like I had to fight to keep my place in his life. I don’t even remember why I agreed to stay over at his place tonight. I should’ve just gone home.

“Don’t...don’t say that. Please. Your voice makes it sound like you’re giving up.”

“Maybe I am Matthew. This was a mistake. I’m going home.”

“No…no no no. Don’t say things like that, please. Look don’t…don’t go. Please, Y/N. It’s late and you’re upset and I...I don’t want you out walking the streets alone right now-”

“I don’t really care what you want right now.”

Matt quickly snatched my overnight bag out of my hands as soon as I reached for it and tossed it across the room with annoying accuracy. I futilely shoved at his chest when he grabbed onto my arms and pulled me in close, but it was no use. He was a lot stronger than I was, and on top of that I was exhausted. I didn’t have any fight left in me for tonight, and there was no escaping the cage of his embrace.

“Please let go.”

“I can’t. I can’t, sweetheart. I need you, please. Look I fucked up, okay? I know that. I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I know you’re probably sick of hearing me say that, but I am. Just...please don’t leave. I love you, Y/N. Let me..let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

My eyes widened as the words dripping with suggestion left his mouth. I tilted my head back and stared up at him dumbfounded, a humorless laugh leaving my lips as I managed to find a surge of strength to push as hard as I could at Matt’s chest and finally shove him backwards.

“Are you fucking joking? You have some goddamn balls, Matthew Murdock. Are you seriously asking me for sex right now? You think that’s gonna fix this?”

“I’m not asking, I’m offering. I know you need it.”

“You don’t know anything. What the hell makes you think I want anything to do with you right now? Why would I even want to kiss you, knowing all I’m going to be able to taste is her.”

Matthew Murdock was one cocky son of a bitch, and his audacity never ceased to amaze me. He clenched his jaw slightly as spite flowed from my lips, hands balling up into tight fists at his sides as he let out a controlled deep breath. His features morphed into an expression of distress as he took slow calculated steps closer towards me and inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His eyes were a shade darker when they opened and his tongue quickly darted out to swipe across his bottom lip as he squared his shoulders. I knew that look, and it caused a shiver to cascade down my spine.

“Then why don’t you let me have a taste, hm? I don’t want you to taste anything else on my tongue except yourself. I don’t want to taste anything else but you.”

Matt tilted his head to the side slightly, his blank honey eyes fixated right in my direction, trying to sense anything that would give me away. He waited silently to taste the effect of his words in the air as they began to seep from my core, and feel the rise of heat that flushed across my chest and the tops of my cheeks. He waited for the anger to dissipate into desire. Matt Murdock was not a very patient man, but the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was when it came to outsmarting his prey. He set the trap, and waited for me to fall into it. He knew I would. It had been too long, and he knew me too damn well. Matt always knew how to melt the icy barrier I hid beneath, rendering me a needy puddle in his capable hands. The twitch of his jaw and fleeting uptick of his lips let me know he had gotten exactly what he was waiting for.

“I can smell you, sweetheart. Your need...your want. It’s palpable. I can feel it in my own veins. I can practically taste you from here. It’s been what…two weeks? Two weeks since I’ve touched you. I haven’t been paying attention to you like I should have been. I haven’t been very good to you lately. I’ve been neglecting you, and I’m so sorry for that. Please...let me make up for it. Use me.”

Use me.

My mouth suddenly felt dry as it clicked in my brain exactly what he meant. Matt knew what he was doing. I was a sucker for his voice, especially when he used his “devil” voice on me, and he never hesitated to use it to his advantage. He knew it would make me crumble. It always did. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted, how to win. He masked every single one of his sinful words behind that velvet voice, and I loved it. Matt took my silence as an invitation to move even closer, his voice becoming dangerously low as he spoke.

“You don’t have to touch me. You can have my fingers, my mouth, whatever you want. I can feel how frustrated you are. I know how badly you need this. So let me help. Take it all out on me. Use me, sweetheart.”

I felt like I was being pulled in a million different directions in my head. A tiny, logical piece of my brain wanted me to smack him. It was yelling at me to not give in. To instead tell him to fuck off, get my things, and just go. The other part of my brain wanted me to just call it a night. Just let go of all the anger, try to get some sleep, and discuss the future of our relationship in the morning when we were both level headed. But both of those thoughts were completely drowned out by the ache beginning to throb uncomfortably between my thighs.

I was just as sexually frustrated as I was...well...regularly frustrated. I couldn’t remember the last time Matt had kissed me, or touched me, or even told me he loved me. He had been so busy lately, I felt like we only saw each other in passing like forgotten ships in the night. My body yearned for him. He knew it better than anyone, sometimes even better than I did. He always knew what I needed.

My renegade eyes traveled over Matt’s exposed muscular chest as I got lost in my inner turmoil, paying extra attention to how his sweatpants and briefs hung treacherously low on his hips. I had spent so many moments mapping out every inch of his skin and every visible scar with my fingers and tongue. If I focused really hard, I could feel the tautness of his abs on my fingertips from whenever he got close to releasing in my mouth. I could hear the gravel in his voice as he whispered vivid dirty details of his plans for me into my ear. I could taste the tanginess of my own release on his lips as he kissed me after bringing me to climax with his skilled tongue.

I felt a warm rush of arousal pool between my thighs. The soft groan that exuded from Matt’s lips let me know he had noticed it. He always knew when I was wet for him. I could never hide from him. His tongue swiped along his bottom lip as he stared just above me, his fists tightening at his sides so hard his bruised knuckles were stark white. I know he wanted nothing more than to rush forward and take me, fuck it all out, and beg for forgiveness when he finally sent me over the edge...but he stayed still. Matt had always been the dominant one in our relationship, and I liked it that way. I never knew I could find so much freedom in completely giving myself over to someone. I trusted Matt. I loved when he took control. I craved being submissive to him, so much so that it would have been embarrassing if it weren’t so fucking satisfying. I didn’t know if I had it in me to be the one in control, especially not with the headspace I was in. I was desperately grasping at the frayed edges of my anger, but the way he was staring at me with those ravenous wild eyes had me letting go without a second thought.

“I..I don’t..I’m not sure if I..”

Matt reached out to gently take my hand into his, brushing his thumb over the back of my knuckles and giving it a soft squeeze. Somehow he always understood me, even when I couldn’t get the words out. He just knew.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you. I got you, sweetheart.”

Matt slowly sunk down onto his knees in front of me, head tilted back to keep his gaze up towards my face. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as he hooked his index fingers under the seam of my panties, pulling them down my legs carefully as he brushed his fingers tenderly along the back of my knee and the side of my calf. He turned his head slightly to place a chaste kiss to my inner thigh and I felt him smile against my skin when I let out an involuntary whine. He tapped my ankle lightly to signal for me to step out of my panties, balling them up into his hand and shoving them into the pocket of his sweatpants.

Matt placed several more scorching kisses up the expanse of my legs and over my thighs as he slowly rose up from his knees, towering over me once he stood to his full height. He gestured his head towards the bed and began to walk backwards.

“Come here.”

I watched him in confusion as he took his place on the bed, glancing down at the spot on the floor in front of me where he had just been.

“What…what um...”

“You’re gonna ride my face.”

I nearly choked on my own spit, my eyes widening in shock as I watched Matt move to lay flat on his back on the mattress. Matt Murdock was no stranger to eating me out. Sometimes I think he enjoyed it almost as much as I did. There were times I had to practically pry him away, nearly in tears from overstimulation because he just kept going and going and going. He’d had his face buried between my thighs countless times, but never like that.

“W-What?”

“You’re gonna sit on my face, you’re gonna ride my tongue until you come, and you’re gonna keep going until you feel satisfied. If you wanna go all fucking night, we will. You don’t stop until you get what you need.”

Even though he was offering to let me take control, there was still a dominant edge to his voice that made my knees weak. Matt reached his hand out for me to take, his eyes blankly moving back and forth as he waited to sense my presence come near. I was frozen with apprehension. I wanted it, God did I want it, but I was nervous. I had seen a picture of Elektra once. We looked nothing alike, figure wise. I had a very curvy figure. I had wider hips and thick thighs, and while I knew Matt was very strong, I also knew I would die of embarrassment if I had to explain how I nearly suffocated my boyfriend from trying to ride his face for the first time.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

I blinked a few times as I stared over at Matt, taking a few cautious steps forward until I stood next to the bed. I reached out slowly to grab onto his hand and swallowed thickly when he tugged me closer, pressing a reassuring kiss to each of my knuckles.

“Don’t think so hard. Just come here and let me make you feel better, please.”

I tried to let go of all my trepidation with a deep exhale, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth as I climbed up onto the bed. I let go of Matt’s hand momentarily to pull my oversized sleep shirt over my head so that it wouldn’t get in the way. I swung my leg over Matt’s waist and straddled his chest. He quickly grabbed onto my hips and pulled me up further with impressive speed, causing me to gasp and brace my hands against the wall.

“Jesus, Matt. Slow down.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I just...fuck...can you get up here? Please, baby?”

I wasn’t used to Matt sounding so needy. That was usually my role. I was always the one begging for him…begging for more. Hearing how desperately he wanted to taste me sent a tidal wave of lust dripping down my thighs, and Matt growled lowly in his throat at that. His fingertips dug roughly into the soft flesh of my thighs and his hips bucked upwards slightly. I stared down at him in awe, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride and confidence from the way he was reacting.

“Sweetheart...please...I’m begging you. Let me make you come until you can’t walk. Come on angel...be a good girl for me and come ride my face, yeah? Let me show you how much I want you. Only want you.”

Between his strained begging and the way he moved his head to get closer to where I was soaked, I couldn’t take it anymore. My pussy seemed to have a mind of its own because before I could stop myself, I was settling my knees on either side of Matt’s head and bracing my hands onto the wall to steady myself, preparing to lower myself languidly. Matt however had other plans. In an instant, Matt had a bruising iron grip on my thighs and had roughly pulled my soaking cunt down on his face. One of my hands immediately flew down to grip at his hair as I moaned loudly when I felt his tongue slip inside me. Matthew Murdock was extremely talented with his mouth, which made him an exceptional lawyer, but an even more sensational lover.

His mouth was so warm as he ravaged me, and I felt myself already having a difficult time staying upright. Matt’s large hand came down hard against my ass and I cried out as it surged me forward, the action causing his nose to bump divinely against my clit as his tongue explored my pussy like it was the first time all over again. It took one more slap for me to get the hint and I slowly started to move my hips against his face. The muffled moan of approval that sounded beneath me only spurred me on to roll my hips back and forth delicately like an easy tide. I gripped tightly onto Matt’s hair and tugged hard which caused a groan to reverberate enticingly against my clit.

I could feel him moving slightly around on the bed behind me and glanced over my shoulder to see him rolling his hips upwards into the air in time with my own pace. I could see the perfect outline of his impressive cock as it strained against the barrier of his sweatpants. There was already a wet patch forming which drove me even more crazy. He was really fucking enjoying this. It never failed to turn me on even further seeing how much Matt got off to getting me off.

My breaths became more jagged and struggled to be released from my chest the closer I got to the edge. I should’ve felt pathetic about being so close to coming undone so quickly, but it had been weeks. I whined loudly as I began to grind my hips down back and forth on his tongue, welcoming the burn of his facial hair rubbing roughly against my inner thighs. I had gotten so used to his touch that I felt like I was completely starving after two weeks without it. I hadn’t even bothered trying to get myself off because I knew it would be no use. I couldn’t come without Matt, not since the first night I let him touch me and make himself at home between my thighs. Nothing compared to him.

“M-Matty...oh god...please...”

Matt clamped both of his large hands down on my thighs to hold me in place, wrapping his plump lips around my swollen clit to suck on it feverishly. I could feel him moaning against my core and it only brought me closer and closer to where I wanted to be. It was so close...so fucking close. My entire body felt tense with anticipation as I waited impatiently to be tossed over the edge into pure ecstasy. It felt like a rubber band within me was being stretched impossibly thin, and I just needed it to fucking snap already.

“Maaaatty…please please please..”

I don’t even know what I was asking for, but he knew. He always knew. Matt granted me mercy as he quickened the pace of his tongue, flickering over my clit like a flame trying to withstand the wind. He gently bit down on my sensitive nub, causing me to explode with pure bliss. I rocked my hips against his face messily as I kept my tight grip on his hair. A high pitched whine left my lips when I felt a growl rip through his chest as I finally came into his mouth. I glanced down just in time to see his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head from my taste hitting his tongue, a satisfied primal groan resonating against my core. Matt wouldn’t let me budge until he greedily lapped up every drop of nectar my body had to offer. My thighs shook aggressively as I tried to ride out one of the most powerful orgasms I’d ever had. My body felt entirely too heavy, and the only reason I hadn’t collapsed was because Matt was still holding me up. He detached his lips just for a split second, baring his teeth in menacing snarl.

“Go for another one, sweetheart. I told you…we can stay here all fucking night.”

I glanced down to see the lower half of Matt’s face completely coated in my glimmering wetness. His lips were swollen and red, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, panting as he tried desperately to catch his own breath. His hair was sticking up in odd directions from my hazardous gripping and his eyes were blown open so wide, I could see the devil in them, waiting for me to unlock his chains. I whimpered as I felt his tongue teasing at my folds, trying my hardest to pull away from his eager mouth.

“I..I c-can’t..ah fuck Matty…please…let me down...please...”

Matt grabbed onto my hips and lifted me up gently, helping me onto my back on the spot right beside him. My body was still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure when I felt the warm weight of his body on top of mine. His lips left a burning trail of kisses down the column of my neck, between the valley of my breasts, and along my lower stomach. I whined when I felt his warm breath wavering against my clit.

“Shh...let me take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll do all the work. Just lay back and let me make it better.”

“Matty...please. I just want you, please.”

I hadn’t forgiven him. I was still hurt and angry, and there was so much we needed to talk about. But right now, I just needed him. I needed to feel him. I needed to feel our bodies connected together, like they belonged to one another. I needed him to tell me everything would be okay as he held my hand and made love to me. I needed to know he was still mine.

I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as he hovered over me and I grabbed onto his face to pull him down in a searing kiss. I could feel him sigh in content and relief against my mouth, sliding his hand under my back to pull me up closer so that could press our chests together. I could feel his heartbeat thundering against my own in a perfect symphony. As I pushed at the waistband of his sweatpants, he gently grabbed onto my wrist and broke the kiss to lean his forehead against mine.

“Sweetheart, I told you…you don’t have to touch me.”

“I need to, Matty. I need it, please. I need you.”

Matt stilled at my sobbing plea and brought one of his large hands up to brush the scattered tears away with his thumb, cupping my cheek in his hand as he gazed down at me in pure concern.

“Angel, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Was it too much? Do I need to stop?”

“No...no please don’t. I just...I need you, Matty. I need you here.”

“I am here, sweetheart.”

“I need you to stay here. You can’t...you can’t just ignore me for two weeks and then run off with someone else, Matt. You can’t do that to me...especially not with her. So...if this is it, then I want-”

“Hey, no. This is not it. Don’t talk like that. Listen to me...I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I’ll never do that again, I swear. You mean everything to me, alright? I’m not going anywhere, sweet girl. I’m right here. And I don’t want you to worry about her. She’s on the first flight out of New York in the morning, okay? She’s not coming back. It’s just you and me, my love. I’m right here. I love you.”

“Then show me.”

I didn’t wait for him as I braced my palms against his broad chest and pushed with all the strength I had left, rising up onto my knees as I pushed him down onto his back. I ignored his faint protests, grabbing at the waistband of his briefs and sweatpants to tug them down in one swift motion as quickly as possible. I pressed my palm hard against his chest to keep him down when he tried to sit up, climbing onto his lap and positioning myself over his impatient cock. The tip was swollen with lust and weeping with need, standing proudly at attention above his stomach, waiting for me. I didn’t take my time to slowly lower myself down like I normally did. No matter how many times Matt had been inside me, ruined me, I always had to adjust to his size.

We both cried out in unison when I sank down completely, and his hands flew up to seize my hips. Being on top always required the most accommodation, but I loved having him like this. I could feel him everywhere. All I wanted was to be completely filled to the brim and consumed entirely by him. I winced as the sting of my walls being stretched to their limits pierced through my lower half.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Easy easy…don’t hurt yourself. We can take it slow-fuck!”

I ignored every single one of Matt’s words as I sat up straight and began to swivel my hips in purposeful circles. It burned, God did it burn, but I wanted it. I wanted it all. I didn’t know if I believed Matt’s words. I didn’t know if the love he had for me would ever compare to what he had felt for her, what he might still feel for her. I didn’t know that I believed tonight wasn’t it for us. But all that I wanted was a reminder, that this had been real. That Matt had been real, and he had been mine. I would take the pain willingly if it meant I’d be able to feel him for the next few days. I’d happily be haunted by the ache he left between my thighs to remind myself that this was real.

Every drawn out moan of my name that rang in my ears, every breathless pant, every plea of oh my god and every praise of fuck sweetheart kept me moving even though I felt like my legs were seconds away from giving up. I threw my head back towards the heavens, hoping God would understand my prayers and what I needed through the form of Matt’s name. On my knees above him, I prayed. And I prayed and I prayed and I prayed.

I didn’t know if the tears falling freely down my cheeks were from being pushed to my limit physically, or mentally, but I cried out when Matt sat up fully to wipe them away from my cheeks, reaching farther inside me than I ever thought possible. I whined when I felt his hand wrap delicately around my throat, his thumb and index finger holding my chin in a firm grasp as he captured my lips.

“Shh…it’s alright sweetheart. I’m here. I’m right here. Doing so well for me, angel. Always so good to me. Let me take care of you.”

Matt brought my arms up to wrap around his neck, grabbing my hips gently to flip our bodies over and lay me down into the sanctuary of silk covered pillows. He pulled my legs tightly around his waist, locking his own hips in place against mine. One hand came up to intertwine our fingers together, squeezing my hand in reassurance as he placed his other forearm directly beside my head. Pressing our foreheads together, brushing his nose and lips against mine, Matt began to oscillate his hips at a tender speed, allowing me to feel every detailed stroke of him against my tight walls.

“My perfect girl. Can’t you feel how perfect we fit together, Y/N? Can’t you feel how perfect you are for me?”

I couldn’t handle the vulnerability in his featherlight whispers. It tugged so hard on the strings of my heart, I thought they might snap. I tried to whisper his name, respond with something coherent, but all I could manage was a needy whimper. Matt let go of my hand for just a second, slipping his own between our bodies to press down on the bulge in my lower stomach.

“You can feel me here, can’t you sweetheart?”

I grabbed onto the back of his neck urgently, digging my nails into the muscle of his upper back to anchor him in place. I tried to nod, tried to hide my face into the refuge of his neck to escape his inexorable gaze, but he wasn’t having any of that. Matt’s hand was quickly covering my throat again, his hold on my chin a little tighter this time, forcing my eyes to meet his.

“I am not going anywhere. Nothing could ever take me away from you. Not her, not Fisk, no one. Not even God himself could keep me from you.”

His caramel coated eyes were staring so hard down into mine, it knocked the breath out of me. For a second, I felt like Matt could actually see me. His stare only grew in intensity as his thrusts became more precise.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. You are mine. And I am yours. We belong to no one else, but each other. I’m gonna marry you someday, Y/N. Someday soon. I want nothing more than for you to be my wife, my perfect girl. My angel. There’s no one else I want by my side for the rest of my life. No one else who understands me better than you do. No one else that accepts me like you do. No one else that’s as good to me as you are. I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you. I will put a ring on your finger tomorrow. I will put a baby in you tonight.”

A sharp gasp mixed with a breathless moan echoed from my lips at Matt’s words. I knew Matt wanted to get married someday, and I always hoped it would be to me. We had very briefly had a conversation about kids once. He knew that I wanted them, and said that he did too. Someday. While marriage I knew we could make work, I wasn’t sure about the kids part. I didn’t know if I could handle having a child with him when he still needed the other side of him, and I didn’t know if he would ever know when he wouldn’t need that side of him anymore. It was a tricky conversation I wasn’t ready to try and navigate. I didn’t want to risk losing Matt, and I would never ask him to give up something that was so important to him. But the conviction in his voice, the certainty of his words, made me lightheaded. Matt tilted his head to the side slightly, a sense of recognition softening his gaze as a light smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“That what you want, sweetheart? Hm? That what you need? Taking my last name and growing our baby inside you to remind you every day that I’m yours?”

“Matty…”

“You want all of me, don’t you angel? C’mon, tell me. Tell me you want all of me.”

“I…God, Matty…want all of you, please.”

“I love you, Y/N. You love me, don’t you? C’mon baby, tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Matty. I, oh God, love you so much…”

“Say you’ll marry me. Gonna ask properly, I promise, but I need to hear you say it. Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Yes Matty…yes I’ll marry you.”

I knew Matt was listening intently to my heartbeat with every answer that spilled from me, searching for any falter in rhythm that would tell him I wasn’t telling the truth. That I was just obeying his orders. But I wasn’t lying. I meant every word. I knew that Matt knew that from the mouth splitting grin that took over his entire face.

“That’s my girl. My perfect girl. Now, tell me I can come inside. We can start our family tonight, sweetheart. C’mon, tell me you want it, and you’ll be pregnant before the sun comes up. Let me hear it, angel.”

“Please Matty, please. Please come inside me. I want our family. I want it all. Please Matty, make me yours.”

Matt tightened his grip slightly on my throat, silencing my cries of pleasure with his lips. His pace remained gentle and loving, but his thrusts were powerful and meticulous, relentlessly hitting that spot inside me that had me swimming in constellations that appeared behind my eyelids every single time. It didn’t take much longer for me to plunge from the peak of exhilaration, free falling into uninhibited gratification below that was completely and irrevocably Matt.

I felt tingles sparking throughout my extremities as my body spasmed in rolling blackouts of delectation, causing my walls to clench unforgivably around Matt’s cock. I could feel the rhythm of his hips stuttering into short, staccato bursts as he finally reached his own crescendo. The pure satisfaction entangled in the legato moans of his climax wrapped around me like a warm blanket, lulling me into a state of ease. For the first time all night, joy buzzed in my bloodstream, and I was able to silence the roaring of my insecurity.

Matt was here. Matt loved me. Matt was mine.

I hugged him as close and tightly to my chest as I could, refusing to unlock my legs from around his waist when I felt him start to pull back.

“Don’t, please. Just stay. Just wanna stay like this.”

Matt pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and allowed his lips to linger there for a moment before marking my nose, cheeks, and lips in his adoration. He nuzzled his head into my neck and I felt him inhale my scent deeply before sighing in content.

“Alright, sweetheart. We can stay like this.”

I basked in the comfortable silence for a moment, allowing my brain to process every single one of Matt’s words. I felt a childlike sense of giddiness, like when you were a kid and you knew you were getting the exact gift you wanted for Christmas. You had peeked, and spoiled it for yourself, but still felt unfiltered excitement anyway. The gift itself didn’t matter as much as the feeling of knowing that it was what you wanted and it was yours.

Matt Murdock was my gift. The one thing I always wanted, the only thing that mattered, that was all mine.

I threaded my fingers lightly through his hair, occasionally massaging at his scalp and smiling at the hums of gratitude that vibrated against my neck.

“Matty?”

“Hm?”

“You know I’m still on birth control, right?”

“I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t hurt to start practicing though, does it?”

I could feel his smile against my skin. If I closed my eyes, I could see it. I knew exactly which one it was. I couldn’t help but giggle at his response, tightening my arms around his back.

“Well, if that’s the case, then we’ve been practicing for over a year Matty. Sometimes several times a day.”

Matt pulled his head back just enough so that he could face me, bumping his nose against my own as a devilish grin stretched across his soft lips.

“I like to be prepared.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil smut #daredevil fic #elektra natchios #foggy nelson

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ovaryacted · 6 months

Text

RELEASE YOUR INHIBITIONS

PAIRING: RE4! Leon x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: Leon comes back home all tense from the stress building up in his body. Being the loving partner you are, you give him some much needed relief.

CONTENT/WARNING: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn without plot. Hard Dom/Sub. Authority Kink. Hair Pulling. Degradation/Humiliation. Throat Fucking. Spanking. Spitting. Knife Play. Light Cum Play. Dacryphilia. Use of stoplight system. Some aftercare towards the end.

WC: 5.4k

NOTES: Godamn sorry about the wait but here is Week 2 of Kinktober, probably the craziest and longest thing I've written so far. We're slowly catching up to get back on schedule before the month ends lol. Yeah, intense fucking, Leon is a warning on his own. I had fun writing this too and I hope you all like it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

《 Kinktober Masterlist 2023 ⟡ Main Masterlist 》

Hard leather boots scraped the floor of the entryway with every step he took. The wooden planks softly creaked underneath his weight as he closed the front door behind him. Taking a step forward, he threw the keys in the glass bowl at the entrance console table and the duffle he carried fell to the ground.

It wasn’t like Leon to be this irritable, but the bullshit he kept handling continued to build up in ways he could no longer manage. He was usually a man of composure, keeping his emotions in check and not being able to register them half of the time. He tries his hardest not to crack under pressure, the years of training he had to endure ingraining into his mind to tolerate the worst of his circumstances with zero complaints.

This week, he was at his limit, ready to snap at any given moment from having limited time to feel normal. The constant assignments and the shitload of responsibilities he’s given without so much as a please and a thank you were driving him insane. It was just too much, and he could feel the migraine he had since this morning beginning to pulse at his temples.

Even if he didn’t vocalize it, you could always tell his cues before he did. Knowing him so intimately gave you the ability to read his body language, a quality Leon was always grateful to have found in his partner. You’ve been with him long enough that you learned to tell his mood based on the way he walked around the apartment.

If his footsteps were light and soft, he was alright, possibly having a small smile on his face and looking for you to wrap his arms around your waist in a hug. If you didn’t hear his footsteps despite him being inside, he’s probably being mischievous or anxious about something, no in between.

In the instance where his footsteps were heavy and loud, he was stressed and annoyed. This circumstance was rare, Leon doing his best to keep the inconvenience of his job out of the safe space you two created in the comfort of your home. But you knew him best and understood he was a man who walked around with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Coming out of hiding from the bedroom, you saw him right at the threshold separating the hallway and the living room. He didn’t say much, but you saw it in his eyes, how his thoughts tormented him to no avail.

“Baby, you alright?”, you asked him carefully, approaching him slowly while he stood as still as a statue due to all the tension he had built up inside him. The second your fingers grazed his chest through his jacket, you felt the rumble of a sigh, but his hands didn’t reach to touch you.

“I’m guessing today was a bad day?”, you waited for him to speak on his own before making any assumptions.

“Just pissed”, Leon said almost in a growl, and you could tell it was bad from the way his jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t know the extent of his irritation, but from the way his chest shook with every exhale, it was deeper than usual. Nodding in silent acknowledgment, you were mentally preparing for what you would ask him next.

“What do you need?”, at that question, Leon’s bright blue eyes met up with yours, his mind painting a picture of what he wanted but he refused to say it completely.

“I don’t think you want to know”, he muttered, but you were stubborn just like him.

“Try me”, you wouldn’t turn him down, no matter how crazy his suggestion may be. You’ve seen him at his worst even if he attempted to hide it from you, but you knew he needed you in more ways than one.

There was a moment when his gaze landed on you again, finding comfort and reassurance in how you saw what he was planning. Your soft look told him everything he needed to hear without saying anything at all. I trust you. I’m here for you, whatever you need.

No words came out as he grabbed your hips, pulling you flush to his body and kissing you harshly. It took you off guard at first at the force of the kiss, but you welcomed it and let him lead. His hands squeezed at you aggressively, teeth and tongue meshing together between you two as your breath caught in your throat. It was as if he wanted to eat your face alive, his lips pressed hard against you and making your body heat up. All too soon, he pulled away, leaving your lips tingling from the sensation of his mouth on yours.

“Bedroom. Now.”, pleasantries were out of the window, and Leon wasn’t up for any games. You followed his orders, playing the role of whatever he needed you to be at that very moment. The tension in the air was thick between you, seeing his figure coming in through the door and closing it behind him as if to signal that there was no escape.

Standing and waiting for his next command, he teased you the slightest bit, taking off the leather jacket he wore and tossing it on the armchair in the corner of the room. His head turned to look at you, mouthing two words that filled your body with arousal.

“Come here.”

Feeling gravitated to him, you did just that, walking towards him until your feet were almost touching his. His demeanor told you he wasn’t going to play nice, that much you could read. But Leon was always full of surprises when he was like this, so you never fully knew what to expect and that’s what made it so exciting.

“What am I going to do with you…”, he seemed to ask himself this, running his fingers over your cheek as you chased his touch. He chuckled when you did, noticing the blush you already had on your face.

“You remember what to say and do when it gets too much?”, Leon asked you, his tone softer than before as he studied you when you nodded. “Tell me”

“I say red, or I tap your thigh”, you tell him simply, and since he arrived at the apartment he has a smile on his hardened face.

“Good. Now get on your knees”, his tone was back to being forceful, watching you move down to the floor without hesitation.

“I’ve always liked you like this, ready and eager to please. I knew I did the right thing keeping you around”, he said, but his words only added to the fire starting to grow in your lower gut.

“You know what to do baby. Don’t make me tell you twice”, he called out to you, feeling your hands running up his thick thighs through the dark wash jeans he wore.

You were quick to get him out of his pants, undoing his belt at the buckle and tossing it to the side behind you. Lowering the zipper and popping the button, you grew shy knowing Leon was watching every move you made, but you’ve done this a hundred times over. The thick denim material hiding his body slipped down to the middle of his thighs, followed by you pulling down the briefs he wore.

Already half-hard and throbbing, you wasted no time, kissing his bulge and touching his hips. He let you do that for a while, just simply touching him and building up the tension before your neck strained with the way he yanked your hair in his fist. Needy eyes focused on his face, and he smirked down at you.

“Don’t tease me. Open wide, I want to feel the back of your throat”, he was back to using a more authoritative tone of voice, and you knew better than to make him wait any longer.

“Yes sir”, you merely gasped, your lips parting to suck at his tip, tasting the savory precum through his slit.

Inhaling a breath, your hot mouth encased his cock easily, slowly slipping down as far as you could and relaxing your jaw before taking more of him. You breathed in your nose now, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks with your hands on his thigh for support, nails curling into his skin. You heard the groan of relief from above you, and you couldn’t help the way your lips curled upwards around him as you sucked him off.

You knew how he liked it. Messy, hot, and sloppy, your throat a safe haven to help him forget all of the things that upset him at that moment. Lucky enough to have some semblance of control before he took charge, you felt his fingers tighten on your head. Clutching the strands at your scalp, he pushed your mouth off of him until just the tip rested against your tongue.

“Having fun?”, you heard him say, a deep chuckle leaving him as he looked down at you. With one of his hands still wrapped in your hair, the other took hold of himself and tapped the tip of his length on your tongue, making you pant out for him.

“My needy girl, always wanting something in her mouth or she’ll get cranky”, he was condescending in his words, and you knew not to take it personally. In reality, all they did was make your body quiver from excitement.

Tugging you closer to his body with a pull of your hair, your mouth surrounded him again, forcing you down to the very base of his pelvis until your nose rubbed against his pubic bone. He held you there for a few seconds, just to feel your throat constrict around him and you sputtered against him. A tap to his thigh was felt, and he pulled back so you could take a breath before he did it again.

His hips moved to thrust toward the wet heat of your mouth, chasing the comforting warmth as dragged your head down simultaneously. You could feel him hitting the deepest parts of your throat, fighting the urge to swallow around him every time he dipped further down into you. He lost himself to the sensation of you deep-throating him, feeling the way your spit pooled in your mouth and covered his length every time he slipped back out.

“Always take me so fucking well. Mouth just as good as your pussy, I love it”, he rasped out, driving his hips further towards your face as you struggled to breathe through your nose.

His balls hit the bottom of your chin, drool beginning to cover the lower parts of your face with every piston of his hips. Leon reveled in the audible gagging sound that filled the bedroom, how your fingers clutched at his thighs but didn’t tap him as a signal to stop. He kept going, a consistent and snappy rhythm that made your jaw sore from how long it’s been opened. He might’ve been a bit rough with you now, but he knew you could handle it, he’s trained you to do so.

“You’re disgusting baby. Letting me do this to you, letting me fuck your pretty face like the whore you are”, he felt the vibration of a moan around him, eyes glossed over from the force of his hips colliding with your face.

“I bet you’re just soaked right now. Yeah, I know you are. You always get wet when you have some dick down your throat.”

Your face was flushed and you felt yourself clench, your legs squirming against the floor as your knees twitched. You so badly wanted to squeeze them together for some relief, to run a hand down between your thighs and rub at your clit until you finished yourself off. But you knew better, you refrained because this wasn’t about you, this was about him.

Leon’s cock pulsed against your tongue, another groan coming out of his mouth as one of his hands came to curl around your neck. He could feel the ridges of your skin expand from how deep he hit, every thrust against you stretching the base of your throat. It only made him fuck into your face harder, the pace of it making you dizzy and your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I’m gonna cum right here, and you’re gonna let me”, his fingers squeezed around your neck, making it even harder for you to breathe properly.

He overtook your senses, knowing he was about to fall over the edge. He cursed under his breath, words getting lost in the loud shlick sound that came from every push and pull he gave you. Tears gathered at your lash line, your grip around his shaking thighs growing weak the more Leon moved.

“Fuck fuck fuck…”, repeating those words like a mantra, he finished with a loud grunt.

Grabbing your head to pin it flush against his hips, you felt his cum going down your throat, choking against him as tears ran down your face. Clutching at his body and breathing shakily, you tried to remain calm to the best of your ability. You took everything he had to give you, no questions asked, closing your eyes and focusing on grounding yourself to whatever made sense.

With ease, Leon pulled his hips back, letting you catch your breath as you coughed the slightest bit. He could see the way you looked now, taking it all in and engraving it into his memory. Spit on your chin and cheeks, some of it hitting the top of your nose, face flushed and lips puckered up and pink. Your eyes were hazy, pupils dilated and almost lost as they focused up at him.

You were a mess, and that was how he liked you. He liked it when you were his mess.

But you knew he wasn’t done with you, not yet anyway.

“Get up.”, commanding you once more, you got off of your knees and stood on your feet, your knees almost buckling underneath your weight.

Leon grabbed your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks and kissing you on the mouth again. He could care less about how messy it was, how he could taste himself against your tongue, but that was what he wanted. He wanted to chase that sense of possession, that feeling that you’re the only one who could handle him like this.

Walking you towards the bed, the back of your knees hit the mattress, making you fall backward against it. Your elbows dug into the sheets, positioning yourself up on the edge of the bed as Leon kicked his boots off followed by throwing his jeans and shirt off. You looked over his body, eyes trailing over the hardened muscle he’s gained over the years, and your mind began to wander.

He lunged towards you, pawing at your body and trying to take off your t-shirt and lounge shorts. You gladly let him, his touch rough with fingers weathered from the constant gun holding. Leon was elated to find you not wearing a bra underneath, knowing you didn’t wear one when you were home. He left you in your underwear, a hand curled around your bare thigh and kneading at the skin.

“Making it easy for me aren’t you?”, he leered, hands instantly going towards your chest and squeezing your breasts. You moaned at the touch, arching further up into him and letting him handle you however he wanted.

“Yes sir”, you didn’t know if he was directly asking you the question, but you responded to him anyway.

An airy gasp left you when his lips grazed a nipple, your hands going to his hair and running through his scalp. His tongue lavishly circled one nipple before he quickly moved to the other, biting it softly and feeling it harden in his mouth.

“Color baby”, his voice filtered through the mess that was your brain, getting through to you.

“Green sir”

“Good”, he started to look for something around him, your ears picking up the sound of an item being unsheathed. Shiny metal filled your vision, and your eyes widened.

Leon held his tactical knife in his hand, thick fingers wrapped around the handle as he looked down at you. The grin on his face was almost dark, something you’ve only seen on rare occasions, but you couldn’t ignore the way it made a shiver run down your spine.

“You trust me, don’t you?”, he asked you, as if to reassure himself that you would let him do what he wanted to do next. You nodded, but he wanted to hear it from you.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, I always trust you sir”, your voice was shaky but the intent of your words wasn’t missed. You trusted Leon with your life, and when it came to things like this you’d do anything for him.

“I know you do”, he told you, the blunt part of the knife going towards your neck.

You gasped at the touch, keeping still and trying not to arch into the teasing sensation of cool metal running down your body. Leon’s grip curved a bit, the blade moving into the indent of your collarbone and down in between your chest slowly. The heat in your body was becoming unbearable, your hips twitching when you felt the edge of the knife dip toward the end of your belly button.

“You’d just let me do anything to you right? So long as it’s me doing it to you, an easy slut like you wouldn’t care what I did with this knife”

Anyone else would find those words disrespectful, but the sick part of you only wanted to indulge. You wanted more of this, more of Leon releasing his inhibitions and doing and saying exactly what he wanted.

“Yes sir”, you nodded, softly panting when the sharp edge of his knife ran along the waistband of your panties.

“You’d let me fuck you with this against your neck wouldn’t you”, he chortled darkly, moving the knife towards your thighs, being careful not to shift the way he handled it to avoid accidentally cutting you.

You nodded and your breath hitched in your throat, fingers grasping at the sheets the higher the blade went up your body. Leon was meticulous in his teasing, one of his hands moving to spread your legs more and to pin you down. His gaze went to the wet patch against the gusset of your panties, smirking again to see how turned on you were from how he treated you.

“You’re sick for liking this shit darling. I didn’t know I was dating someone so perverted”

Carefully, he twisted the knife so it was flat against your pussy, the hard surface pressed on your clit through the cotton fabric of your underwear. A needy moan filled the room and you had to stop yourself from grinding into the blade, growing desperate for more.

“Please sir…”, was the only thing you could say, Leon humming in response and pressing the knife harder against you. If you shifted your hips or legs even the slightest bit, you would hurt yourself. The danger of it all was what sent your hormones spiking, knowing that you put all of your trust into Leon like this was enough to turn your head to mush.

He decided to take pity on you after all the teasing, moving the knife away from between your legs and running the edge towards your hip. Swiftly, he cut at the waistband of your panties, making you yelp at the quickness of it. He did the same to the other side, ripping the now ruined cotton fabric out of his way and putting his knife on the bedside table away from the both of you.

Leon pounced on you, spreading your legs open and trialing a sneaky hand in between them. You didn’t protest when his fingers started to rub your pulsing clit, whimpering out at the touch and moving your hips for more. Clutching at one of your thighs to keep you opened up for him, he continued his touching, favoring tight circles on your sensitive nub and watching every reaction you made with hungry eyes.

“Awe? Does my whore need more?”, he commented, fingers trailing further down to stroke your entrance, marveling at how wet you were.

“Knew you’d be fucking soaked for me”

You felt two of his fingers slip into you and curl directly into your g-spot with practiced precision, crying out for him loudly. Leon leaned his body further down against you, his torso keeping your legs open as he thrust his digits into you. You arched your back and went to grasp at his shoulders, grinding your hips to fuck up into his hand. Already so pent up from the way Leon used your throat, you grew desperate to find any form of relief from his constant torture.

“Look at you, using my hand to get yourself off. Needy pussy can’t last a single day without being touched by me”

“Sir, please…”

You were begging now, stuck on the feeling of his thick fingers picking up their pace inside you and making you keen. Leon was taking in the show underneath him, how your eyebrows creased and you bit your lip to the point of bleeding the closer you got to your release. He could feel it, from the way your tight walls started to clench around him with every plunge.

The center of his palm came to rub against your clit and another digit entered you, bringing you to the point of overstimulation from the stretch. You were so close, your nails digging into his biceps and leaving red streaks in their wake. Your thighs shook, throat growing raw from the sounds you made and the pressure was building up so quickly in your body. On the verge of getting that pleasure you craved, Leon’s touch disappeared, and you opened your eyes in agitation. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking off whatever remained of your fluids and not caring about what he had just done.

“Why?!”, you said to him, voice higher in tone and unsteady from how your orgasm was taken away from you. He raised an eyebrow at your outburst, body leaning closer to you and his face turned serious.

“Are you trying to fight with me?”

“N-no sir”

“Mad you didn’t get to cum the way you wanted? I don’t give a shit if you’re upset, you take what I give you”, his sharp tone made you whine, the dominance rolling off of him in waves as his fingers squeezed at your hips.

“Repeat it.”

“I only take what you give me sir”, voice soft to prevent upsetting him further.

“So you do remember the rules. Let’s see just how good your brain is at following orders. Turn around, on your hands and knees”, he demanded, watching you move into position on the bed. His hands were on your hips, pulling you towards him so you were flush against his body.

“Count for me”

It was the last thing you heard before you felt a sting on your right ass cheek. The force of it made you lunge forward with a wince against the sheets. You weakly turned your head so he could hear your voice instead of digging your face into the bed.

“One sir”

“Good to know you still have manners”, he retorted, bringing his hand back down on the other cheek with a hard smack.

You kept counting, your voice wavering with every spank Leon delivered onto your ass. He’s fully aware of the fact that he was heavy-handed, using that to his advantage and not holding back with the intensity of the hits. Your skin began to turn red from the impacts, growing sensitive to the touch and no doubt leaving his handprints behind.

“Fuck ten! T-ten sir!”, you mewled into the bedsheets, body shaking from the treatment you had to endure and flinching away from him the slightest bit.

His hands were completely off your backside, rubbing at your shoulders affectionately.

“Color”, he was almost the slightest bit worried he went too far, eyeing you closely for any sign of discomfort on your end.

“G-green, green sir. Promise”, you said, lifting your head to look at him from across your shoulder. Your cheeks were red, slightly breathless and tears ran down your face again. His hand went to rub your thigh, silently communicating he accepted you wanting to continue.

“You want me to fuck you now?”, he asked and pressed your hips towards his once more. You shivered when you felt his hard cock against your core, biting your lip and nodding your head.

“Please, just fuck me. Need it so bad”, you couldn’t stop your body from moving on its own, shifting back towards him and feeling the way his length bumped into your clit with every soft grind.

You sobbed at the feel of Leon finally pushing himself deep inside you with one thrust, so wet there was no resistance. He was balls deep, just taking in the way you twitched around him, sighing happily at the feel of having you like this.

“Christ, you feel good. Always so hot and tight”, he grunted to himself, pulling his hips back until he was almost out of you and moved to collide with your body again.

There was no buildup, no teasing, just pure need as Leon fucked you with no restraint. You couldn’t do anything but take him, your bedroom filling with lewd skin-slapping from the way your ass clapped against his hips.

Losing yourself to the pleasure, you fucked back into him, whining into the sheets and growing light-headed from how hard he was moving against you. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix every time he dove back into you, balls smacking into your clit with every shift. He fucked you with reckless abandon, huffing and grunting under his breath. Your wetness dripped down his shaft and onto the bed, the sound of every thrust loud and audible, making your ears burn.

“This all you needed to calm down huh? Just a good fucking pounding”, you didn’t even register his words, too busy focusing on how he was stretching you out.

One of his hands came to curl into your hair again, yanking your face up and having your head against his chest. You knew you were crying now from feeling so good, face flushed and tongue lolling out on your lip.

“Panting like a bitch in heat. My little crybaby”, you hummed at him, agreeing to anything he said because you didn’t want him to stop.

He turned your head to face him then, kissing you hard and you tried your hardest to reciprocate. Swallowing any sound that came out of your mouth, his hand on your hip squeezed even harder, and you knew he was going to leave bruises. Just the thought alone was enough to make the rope of tension in your body wound even tighter.

“Open your mouth”, he ordered you, internally smiling when you parted your lips and stuck your tongue out.

Gathering some spit, he spat directly into your mouth, the glob transferring right on your tongue. He saw how you swallowed and trembled against him from the act he just did.

“Nasty fucking slut. Cry for me as I fuck you senseless”

He pushed your head towards the bed again, pounding into you deeply now and having a hand on your lower spine to deepen your arch. Your hot walls were pulsating around him, growing tighter the closer you got to the orgasm that was snatched away from you. He was ruining you down to the core, your thighs shaking against his and no longer having the energy to meet his thrusts, taking whatever he was willing to give you.

You shrieked when you felt his hands on your clit again, circling the sensitive button and arching into his touch. The bed was shifting underneath you, your fingers holding onto the sheets and releasing a loud wail. Your body was shaking from exertion, not knowing how much more you could take with your release right around the corner.

“C’mon, cum for me. Cum for me so I can fill you up the way you want”

Leon was nice enough to not let you beg for it, his words making that rope of tension finally snap. Mind going blank, you didn’t recall if any sound came out of your mouth as you tumbled over the edge violently. Your skin felt damn near feverish, an electric shock starting from the balls of your feet to the top of your head and exploded into a sense of pins and needles running all over you. If it weren’t for Leon’s hands holding you steady, you would’ve jerked yourself completely off of him.

“Shit, there we go baby, yeah. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gonna watch it spill out”, he was spewing nonsense, determined to fill you up until you couldn’t take anymore.

His rhythm grew sloppy, back hunching over your body and groaning out your name against your ear. Pumping into you a few more times, his cock throbbed as he came with a guttural moan. Curses spilled from his mouth as he painted your insides, not wanting to stop moving against you or leave your wet snatch. He sighed when he finally stopped, giving you an affectionate kiss on the cheek and neck while he came down from his high.

“You still with me?”, you heard him say, only being able to offer him a soft and tired hum.

He pulled out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling and his eyes were right on your pussy. His cum leaked out of you, running down your inner thigh from where your hips were still propped up. He couldn’t stop his thumb from collecting some of it and smearing it over your entrance, another way to show how he’s already claimed you.

Your mind was distant, still coming down from cloud nine as you heard his footsteps grow distant behind you. He came back towards you with a wet rag from the bathroom, cleaning you up as gently as he could knowing you were probably sensitive. Disposing of the rag, he brought you into his arms on the bed, mindful to not smother you and let you breathe.

“I’m sorry baby”, he said to you, kissing your face and bringing you back to him. He wasn’t always that rough with you, preferring to be more loving in bed instead. But when he was like that, you welcomed it nonetheless.

“I’m still in one piece Leon. You won’t break me that easily”, you finally replied to him, nuzzling into his palm as his thumb wiped the tear streaks from the sides of your face. He chuckled then, relieved that he hadn’t done too much.

“Do you feel a little better now?”, you asked him, not needing a verbal confirmation to know he felt more at ease based on how affectionate he was being.

“Yeah, much better. I needed that, thank you”, he placed soft kisses on your lips, happy sighs leaving him. He’ll tell you about his day later on, right now he just wanted to enjoy this moment a little longer.

“I love you”, you told him, knowing that sometimes you had to remind him that you still cared after moments like these.

“I love you too. Are you in the mood for a nap? Because now I’m just tired”

Strong arms brought you closer to him, cuddling into your neck and continuing to kiss your skin. You didn’t object, letting yourself get comfortable in his embrace as the both of you began to doze off.

“You owe me another pair of panties by the way”, you said with your eyes closed, hearing Leon snort against you.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll take you shopping tomorrow so you can buy more. Now shush I’m trying to sleep here”, giving you another kiss on your temple and gently tracing the curve of your back.

You’d do anything for him, and Leon was content to know that you would.

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fridaypls · 1 month

Text

Power, Possession, and Personal Autonomy:

Gif Analyzing Araj and Astarion's First Encounter

Jumping in; she's a bitch? For a Lolth-aligned drow from a matriarchal-and-value-based society, he's a male outsider already, as well as a spawn. Factor in her vampire fetish and nasty BetterThanYou attitude, their interaction was doomed from first glare.

She clocks what he is right away, commenting to Tav, "Please, you think someone in my line of work wouldn't recognize a vampire spawn when they see one?"

A moment for his "what the fuck, bitch?" face before we go on...

Alright back to Araj.

She circles right back around to Astarion as soon as she's finished getting what she wants out of Tav. "Although, perhaps there's one more thing we could discuss... you friend? He's a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn, at least."

Sorry, just a quick cut to Best Boy looking at her with such thinly veiled disgust. The little way he just barely purses his lips irritably at her - just a lovely extra touch on a scene already so well done.

He tolerated her talking about him in front of him once already in silence, letting you handle it; now she's referred to him outright and she clearly wants something from him. And she's referenced what he is twice now - for a man who seems to genuinely believe he's got his entire camp fooled early on, it's likely less than a fun experience to have that particular hidden facet of himself readily identified by a stranger.

He send her a ''I'm right here, you know” message in the form of a whole lotta face and a very polite, "Don't worry, we're all friends under the Absolute. I won't bite." that holds a lot more depth than the fairly calm words indicate in surface level.

Let's get a bit closer - as close as it's safe to get to an angry vampire under these circumstances.

First, the lean. When he wants to make a point, he leans in - he gives her that lean here, paired with some delightfully contemptuous side-eye. Whether that's trying to keep his nose averted or refusing to look at her head on for the disrespect, he's sending a very nice fuck you.

"...all friends under the Absolute..." while actively shaking his head no on the word friends. I love the subtle ways he makes his point.

Pulling straight out of the very polite smile-and-head-shake-no, he throws subtlety to the wind for a moment and gives her a face we know well. Gone is the faux courtesy, replaced with a beautifully angry sneer.

"...I won't bite." His words said one thing, but everything else delivers a beautifully poised threat.

...and she is entirely unfazed, firing back smoothing with "Oh, I'd prefer it if you did," before turning to Tav to ask "I assume he belongs to you?"

He sent a message; she's rejecting it.

"...friends under the Absolute..." vs "I assume he belongs to you?" Up to this point, we've seen a fair amount of deference granted to True Souls by Absolute worshipers. In her eyes, they are not equals under the absolute. He has no autonomy in her eyes, only purpose.

"...I won't bite." vs "I'd prefer if you did." and she immediately looks to Tav to arrange it. Defanging his threat with invitation and, what's more, active solicitation. Treating him like little more than a pet - it almost reminds me of how I saw someone unkind try to treat a barking lapdog once.

Tav: "He's his own person."

Astarion, understandably, is a bit busy reacting with very valid disgust and shock. "I'm sorry... you want to be bitten?"

Closer and slower; just the beautiful progression from surprise to disgust to shocked disdain to what the fuck is wrong with you?? on the "want to be bitten?" with his little head shake of lol bitch no and also ew and what the fuck??

Araj ignores that as well, commenting to Tav instead on how adorable it is that you believe "...he's his own person." It's deliberately degrading and derogatory before she attempts to buy his cooperation. Before we get into the rude-ass way she asks his name, spare a moment for this mean girls glance at someone else in the party??

Seriously, who did she fire that glare at?? Why??

Okay, I'm focused again. Back to rude Araj and her shit-covered olive-branch. First, she attempts to 'make nice' - watch her shift her face after she completes the sentence. Like an afterthought.

"Do you have a name, spawn?" Not 'what is your name' - but do you have a name, spawn?

While she smiles like she's extended an olive branch, it's covered in caca. He is a thing to her; things do not generally have names, but 'you seem to think you're more than a thing, so I'll play along.'

So how does Astarion respond?

He answers, immediately, and then puts up his hands in defense before changing his dominant hand into a wait just a second gesture as he recoils away from her. Without moving his feet, he gets as far away from her as he can get in the space without literally bending over backwards.

Let's watch again, slower. His response to being asked his name is so reflexive. We've seen it elsewhere, the charming smile, the little bow and graceful spread hands with a flourish. Two hundred years of muscle memory taking over for a split second, despite how fucking rude she's been to him.

Because he's used to it.

He is visibly repulsed and yet, she tries to buy his cooperation, sensing that manipulate or orders are not going to play well here.

Whether self-centered narcissism or plot exposition, Araj gives us a very creepy bit of dialogue about what she wants from him and why. In essence, she’s dreamt of being turned into a vampire since she was a little girl; daydreaming aloud of Astarion’s literal waking nightmare. Some more of her dialogue;

"To feel your life’s blood slipping away? To dance on the edge between life and death? Yes, I want it. I’ll even compensate you - a potion of legendary power that forever increases the strength of the one who consumes."

"I'll even compensate you" - read: 'to you, a thing who does not deserve consideration in this matter, I will graciously offer a reward to entice you.'

She offers him a powerful potion that is "...not for sale, but yours if you bite me." The succession of expressions on her face are incredible. The way she tilts her head back and sneers almost meaningfully as she makes the offer. I don't know if she's returning his earlier sneer to sender or simply feels her trap has closed, but I don't like her face.

And we're so proud of our boy, he says no. "I will have to decline." He doesn't apologize, doesn't offer an excuse, he just says no.

Remember this later when you need to say no. Astarion says 'no' is a complete answer.

There will always be pricks like Araj, however, who disagree. "How disappointing." Scorn, distaste. A bit of have it your way, then. The way a mechanic looks at a stubborn bolt they're about to take a torch to because they don't technically need it to cooperate to get the job done.

It's the way one looks at a thing they're about to bend to their will.

Then, she turns to Tav with a demand. "Can't you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?"

Again, the denial of his autonomy, blatantly asking you to override his free will - let's remember, this is something that doesn't benefit her in any way, she's simply going to enjoy it. Because she's fetishized the experience from a young age.

Tav: "I’m surprised, Astarion, I thought you’d jump at a chance like this."

Astarion immediately perceives this as an order, simply a gentle way of phrasing one. He's used to his will being overridden - but he trusts you enough to push back.

"I'm sorry, but could you excuse us for a minute?"

That's a beautiful, "let me put you on hold" in perfect customer service voice. Flawless.

Further, he's not antagonizing her any further in case he's about to be ordered to bite her against his will.

HIS FACE AS HE TURNS. Singularly unimpressed.

Then he confronts you, both pleading and upset; "Are you serious? Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some potion?"

He's been traded for plenty of things in the past and none of them by his own will or for his benefit. But that was Cazador and this is you - and you, he will push back against. It's a good thing.

Then, it shifts to anger that would absolutely be justified if you were actually asking him to do this - instead of Larian baiting you into a crucial character-arc-development misunderstanding with a vague prompt. We love them.

LOOK AT THE PLEADING SHIFT TO ANGER ^

I think it's important, the way he's willing to push back against you for his autonomy. That he knows that this is wrong to ask of him, even if he hasn’t realized Tav doesn’t know exactly what’s happening yet.

Next, Astarion offers us and Tav an insight into the situation. ”Because there’s something wrong with her blood! I can smell it from here and it’s - rank!”

That disgusted look back in her direction as he tells you "It's rank."

Tav: “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her blood?”

”I can’t say, it just smells wrong. Unnatural. Drinking it wouldn’t kill me, but it would not be pleasant.” please don't make me do this.

“I don’t have all day, True Soul.” Araj has all day, she's being pushy to claw a yes out of you, like a predatory sales person.

Tav: “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

And Astarion's response is... surprised. A little confused. “Alright. Thank you.”

And then he turns back to Araj to deliver his final fuck off for this encounter. “It’s still a no, I’m afraid.”

“How very disappointing.” And Araj finally lets it go... for now. I don't have room in the gif count to show her face here, I'm sorry. But we CAN go back for Astarion's second, much more heartful thank you.

“Thank you… I appreciated that.”

Here it is with a side by side of the first thank you (left) and the second one (right)

The first thank you is surprised and a bit insincere in it's uncertainty, tainted by his surprise at the blase "don't do anything you don't want, bud," support of his autonomy. The second is beautifully genuine.

The whole interaction transcends mere defiance; it's a powerful act of liberation.

For Astarion, this moment is not just about saying no to a demand but about reclaiming his identity and freedom, underscored by Tav's steadfast support. It's a testament to their growing bond and a beacon of hope in a world that often seeks to diminish individual will.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my gif TED talk, this took at least 3 hours and I hope you found something new to enjoy in this scene!

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luveline · 8 months

Note

I am humbly requesting a steve zombie au where the reader gets hypothermia hehehe😌

ty for ur humble request babe ♡ steve zombie au —steve freaks when you show symptoms of hypothermia. fem!reader 2k

"Steve, I think there's something wrong."

Steve raises his head to show he's listening, keeping his gaze on the map. You say it through shivers, sleeves pulled down over your makeshift mittens. "What's wrong, honey?"

He's noticed you aren't yourself today, and he thinks a soft tone is the least he can give you. The stupid map in his hand is tattered, creased down the middle from folding and unfolding. He thought getting to Michigan would be easy, walk in one direction and keep on, but you both need to eat and rest and the weather is too cold to go any further. He needs to find a residential, tonight.

"I feel off. I'm tired and I…" Your mumbling drifts off.

Steve shoves the map under his arm, "What? Tell me."

"Cold," you say, slurred, offering your hands. "I can't feel my fingers."

You're wearing socks over your hands, the best gloves Steve could offer. He takes them with a severe frown, unhappy when the cold of your skin permeates through. You're ice.

"And you don't feel well?" he asks, feeling up your arm to your neck.

Steve digs under the layers of your shirts, hoodie, coat, feeling for your pulse. It feels alarmingly slow. He'd never guess from looking at you how slow your heart is pumping.

Steve doesn't know everything, but he knows you're not supposed to be this cold for this long. You shiver as his fingers warm your neck, a pained hum coming from the very back of your throat as he pulls you in for a hug.

"Okay," he says, rubbing your back even though he knows it's pointless. "Don't worry. We can't stay outside anymore, huh?"

Steve aches to have to drag you down road after road, stretches of streets littered with little protection to offer. The roadside stores here are rocked by the elements, windows smashed and ceilings caving in. You're stumbling by the time a crop of houses appear in the distance, lethargic. Steve thought it was bad that you were cold, of course, but this is a more primal fear. You're not cold, you're freezing, actively freezing.

"You're okay," he says again, his gentlest reassurance. "Sweetheart, just a few more minutes. See that house, the big brown shutters? That's where we're going. Can you do it?"

"I can do it," you murmur.

"I know, but it's my turn to ask stupid questions."

Dead trees line the street, a planter of flowers by the door turned to crisps. Steve props you against a beam of wood holding up the angled porch roof and opens the screen door. He tries the handle on the interior. It's locked, a good sign.

He's admittedly feeling the adrenaline of your imminent demise. Furious with the world and circumstances and himself for letting this happen, Steve kicks the door down with three big kicks. The bang rings like a shot through the entire neighbourhood, he imagines, but there's no time to worry about it.

"You have to–" little gasp, Steve's head hurts, "have to sweep the house," you say as he pulls you inside.

If there's something in here, he has to risk it. Out of options.

He's as softhanded as he can manage dropping you into a seemingly intact couch. The room appears untouched from whoever left it, rather plush, it's a room Steve would've liked to live in.

He grabs your face. You meet his eyes, startled.

"I'm going upstairs for blankets. If something happens, you yell for me as loudly as you can. You don't have to say anything, just scream. Seriously."

"Yeah," you say breathlessly. The last street of walking and the few steps has exhausted you.

"Don't sleep," he says severely.

"No, I won't."

Steve dumps his bag on the floor. He backtracks to the porch to grab yours and wedges the splintered door closed using your bag as a temporary stopper.

You must be hypothermic, cold for days, too cold to sleep last night, and it's all Steve's fault. We can do it, he'd said, just another push. He hoped for better standing further out of Indiana. None of it will matter if you get sick.

He spins to walk up the stairs, falls weak and rushes back into the living room to check on you.

"Everything's okay," he says, taking your face again into his hands and kissing your forehead. It's purely selfish.

You touch his elbow. "I know."

Steve takes off his jacket and puts it over your lap. The house is vaguely warmer than outdoors but it's far from enough to make a difference to you. Heart in his throat, he bounds up the stairs and onto the landing, an L-shape with one bedroom straight in front and four doors on left. The smell of gore coming from the closed master bedroom explains how it could be this clean; it wasn't uncommon at the start of the apocalypse for people to lock themselves in, kill themselves and their families. He has no interest in seeing it, nor unleashing the mould spores that come with decomposition. Whatever blankets were in there are worthless now.

He takes a left and opens the door with a slam. A teenage bedroom not unlike his own back home, a simple comforter on the bed. He grabs it and tosses it on the landing, dipping into the second room. Bathroom, nothing worth having. The third room is a utility room with a jackpot of folded sheets, towels, padded quilts, and a comforter rolled into a log. He throws everything onto the floor and forgets the fourth door, arms fit to burst with fabric as he descends back downstairs.

"Steve?" you ask.

"Yep, yes. I'm here." He drops the blankets at your feet. "Are your clothes damp?"

"I think… no."

"I'd tell you to take off your jacket," he begins, shaking the biggest comforter out over you as he talks, "but I want as many layers as possible. Come here, sweetheart. Lift your back a little." He tucks you in like a pastry. "Good. Good, thank you, sweetheart."

"You're being very nice," you mumble, your eyelashes twitching like you've dimes weighing down your eyelids.

"I'm always nice."

"No," you say, your head falling back into the couch cushions. It's a family couch made of soft fabrics, not the showy leather piece you'd expect in such a mammoth lodging. "You're okay, though."

Steve piles blankets on top of you. The cold is eating at him too, his nose stiff, his hair standing on end as gooseflesh ripples over his arms.

When you've been sufficiently sandwiched, he feels your face again. You're already warmer, his hand creeping down into your shirt to feel for your pulse. Ropey.

"Sweetheart, I need you to try and perk up," he says, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

"Not feeling perky."

"Ah, but you're always perky. You're my sun, 'cos I'm so awful," he says, panic lining his plea. "You are. I'm going to make you something hot to eat."

"Hot air?" you ask, slinking further down into your hump of sheets.

"I think we might be in luck."

He speaks too soon, really. The cupboards are lackluster. The can of soup he'd been hoping to find doesn't materialise. But there's a small can of ravioli, enough salted fish to make any tom cat happy, and a jug of water beneath the sink. He looks at it and sighs in relief. You have two litres of rainwater in your bag, and that had been the rations. This is one less thing to worry about.

Steve makes sure that there kitchen door and the patio doors in the lonely dining room are locked, taking a big cooking pot from the pantry (depressingly empty bar a bag of sugar spilled on its side and a sack of grain) and a saucepan from atop the stove. He checks the gass but he's never that lucky, resigning himself to a typical campfire when it doesn't work.

"Steve, put it back on," you say as he comes back in, your eyes a little wider, slightly more alert. You've pulled your arms out from under the blankets, with his jacket in your hands.

Steve has kissed you before. You haven't talked about it out loud —he'd like to think a lot has been said in hand-holding, in spooning, and in you hand carding through his hair. He's eager to kiss you again, dumping his findings to hold your wrists. "Thank you," he says, kissing you clumsily, your lips cold. "Now put your arms in. I'll pull the blankets up."

"Can you kiss me again?"

"I'm trying to make you some hot water."

"I'm warm enough already. Please?"

Steve kisses you again. This time, he closes his eyes, puts his hand against your jaw. The sound of your lips pressing to his seems loud in the quiet.

He pulls away with a final peck. "Are you feeling warmer?"

You blow breath up your face. "Bet so."

Steve rolls his eyes and turns away to make a campfire in the stolen pot. He'll boil some water in the saucepan for you to hold like a risky hot water bottle, and make some warmed ravioli. It'll be sweet. And tomorrow, if you're feeling better, he'll scavenge for supplies in the neighbourhood. Tonight, he'll burn the kitchen chairs. They don't need them anymore.

"Settle in," he says, opening his backpack for the fire starters and matches. "We'll stay for a while, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Sorry for the fuss."

"Are you kidding?" He can't look at you. He'll probably cry. "It's cold. You were cold, and we didn't– I knew your coat wasn't good enough but I just thought… well, it's my fault. It is. And I– I care about you so much," —he says it in a rush, true but unused to admitting his feelings to you or anyone— "I can't do this without you. I'll take better care of you, I swear. It won't happen again."

"You know what would really warm me up?" you ask.

Steve turns on his heel. "Let me make you something to eat."

"Not hungry, just cold."

Steve tamps down a giddy smile into one more respectable. "Let me feel your pulse," he relents, lifting the heavy layer of blankets to climb inside. Its roasting, the warmest he's felt in weeks, and your arm is alive as he slides into your side.

He puts his hand against your neck, waiting for a steady bump.

"Am I cured?" you ask.

Steve sighs in relief. "You're cured."

You wrap your arms around him. Life with you and in this situation is an endless rise and fall. Something shitty happens, you scrape by, and, as a victory, he gets to hug you in the end.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Steve asks.

"You just said I was cured, Steve," you mumble, digging your face into his shoulder. "Just. Stay here. Keep feeling me up."

"Not what I'm doing."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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suiseisyojo · 1 year

Text

please give me all your love

「riddle rosehearts, lilia vanrouge, vil schoenheit x gn!reader」 ↳ in which you accidentally drink a love potion and fall for the one who's always harbored unrequited feelings for you. [part 2 here] cw: angst, suggestive themes (all)

[riddle rosehearts]

You two were childhood friends and Riddle’s been in love with you ever since he could remember; it was ironic, truly, that after consuming a love potion, he was the first person you sought out. Trusting in his judgment to know what to do under these circumstances. Didn't you know that the potion would make you fall for him? How could you be so utterly reckless?

Everyone at Heartslabyul already knew of the Housewarden's surreptitious soft-spot for you in spite of his objections to it. You always obeyed the rules, following them to the best of your ability—even when you were frustrated with them, all because, "I like the Queen of Hearts, too♪".

But Riddle's feelings blossomed much sooner than that. When you'd write him letters under the guise of educational tips with a secret code hidden inside so that his mother wouldn't be overly suspicious. When you'd taken him gently by the hand, holding onto him with such strength, as if you were afraid he'd slip from your fingers, and told him, "I like being your friend, Riddle. You're super smart, and you always let me be myself! You're the only one who can do that for me!".

Which is why it hurt when he felt your arms wrap around him, hands lingering around his waist in an intimate way you'd never do with a friend. Words of praise and adulation left your mouth, dripping like a sickening honey. "I love you, Riddle. You're so cute when you blush⋯ Hey, we've been together all this time, we should stay together forever⋯"

“[Name], d-don’t kiss there; that’s inappropriate⋯!”

With your body pressed tautly against his back as his arms carried you back to your dorm, Riddle felt your lips press quick, feverish kisses along the nape of his neck; the sensation evoking goosebumps to cascade across his sensitive skin as frissons of heat rippled down the column of his spine.

The dulcet sound of your sweet, breathless giggles filled his ears as you suppressed the compulsion to smother his skin in your kisses. And Riddle couldn’t help but recollect the copious times as kids he was left to your whims, incapable of doing anything but following along.

“We’re not children anymore, if it’s carrying you like this, I can handle it,” Riddle retorted curtly. It was frustrating when you refused to listen to his scoldings, especially in this situation where your mind was rapt with fabricated affection. “⋯ Hah, they’re not listening anymore.”

Riddle entered within your room, setting you down onto the bed with the utmost caution. Left in his care, you were peering up at him with pleading, dewy eyes; and he heaved a sigh in response. “You’ll kick up a fuss if I leave, so I’ll stay. But you’re not to leave the room until the potion wears off, got it?”

As you nodded your head, Riddle went to whirl around on his heel and head over to your desk when you abruptly entwined your arms around his neck and tugged him down—your lips meeting his. “Mmph! [Name], what are you⋯?!” Riddle breathed out, tinctures of desperation and panic heady in his voice, before he felt you press another kiss against him.

You pulled him into you further, allowing his weight to descend overtop of you as you hopelessly deepened the kiss. Deeper, deeper; you pressed him into you despite his protests.

“——You’re a cruel person, [Name]! Do you even know how much I love⋯” Cutting himself off tersely, Riddle seized your shoulders and pushed you back away from him as he swiftly stood up.

Vexation was acrid on Riddle’s tongue as he was maddened with your naivety, your thoughtlessness, and he gritted his teeth together and snapped at you, “Stay in bed. If you come any closer to me, it’s off with your head, you understand right?”

The feel of your lips sunk into his rapid pulse, permeating a warmth that ached—but the thought of experiencing it again was nothing more than an unimaginable wonderland.

[lilia vanrouge]

Lilia never expected you to return his love—he truly felt content in how your relationship currently was; doting on you whenever you were overburdened by the bits and pieces of life’s difficulties and were in need of a little spoiling⋯ in need of him and the advice he can offer.

That's why, when Lilia had heard you’d drinken a love potion, he was quick to be at your side. He couldn’t let anyone take advantage of you, could he? He always, perpetually, looked after you! As soon as he questioned how you were doing, he found you suddenly clinging on him; and that’s when he realized what was going on. The love potion had made you fall in love with him.

"Lilia-san, my chest hurts. It's overflowing because of you!" The darling words spilled from your lips as you enveloped him in your arms, taking hold of him like he was your everything.

Soothing hands cascaded through your hair, ameliorating your fear towards the inundation of new feelings. Lilia was here, as he always was, soothing you; taking care of you.

“You’re eager, little one. But you shouldn’t be doing this,” Lilia’s low, modulated voice whispered against your ear with an almost teasing lilt as you squirmed in his lap; yearning for his hands on you. “⋯ Why? Because this isn’t how you truly feel. It’s just the effects of the potion you drank.”

Lilia’s lithe fingers brushed away strands of your hair from sticking to your face, luxuriating in how your body flushed from his simple, yet loving, actions. You were too adorable like this, pliable and receptive to his every movement in a way he’d never seen from you before.

Rubbing your cheek against his, you smoothed your hand over his chest and tapped the tips of your fingers along with the beat of his heart; his heart that thumped and thumped in its socket, thrumming warmth along his body.

“Fine, just a little. I’ll give you some love♪”

Planting feathery kisses into the crook of your neck, Lilia placed a hand on your back as he massaged languid, affectionate circles into you. He could feel your body begin to tremble as a smile curved on your lips, reveling in how he was finally showering you in his love.

Lilia never considered himself a selfish person—he always took your feelings into consideration when he interacted with you, keeping you at arm’s length with his scares and equally inane pranks.

But as he held you, he felt a greedy vine slither between and around his ribcage; encasing his heart with thorns that perforated his resolve, letting his forbidden devotion leak out. The desperate, unending need to have you be his in a way unlike before.

“Are you satisfied yet?” Lilia asked softly as he removed his lips from your neck, your supple skin that shimmered from the saliva left behind. A slow, deep corruption until the potion wears off and you can never return. “No? My my, you’re almost as greedy as me, little one.”

[vil schoenheit]

At first, Vil was furious with you—how could you be so ignorant and stupid as to drink a potion without knowing what it’ll do to you? That was⋯ until the person whose affections you were sworn to have was him.

Hearts rose from the depths of your eyes, illuminating your innocence. You followed him everywhere, desperate for just a glimpse at the man who swallowed your mind whole. "Vil-san, you're perfect. You’re all I can see and feel."

Vil had always knew you didn’t love him in the way he loved you. Yet, still, he was persistent in attaining your love. One day, you’d be his; and he’d never give up on it. The graceful and talented one who wove him the finest outfits with all your skills and devotion. The one who sits through lectures and lessons out of reverence in order to cultivate your knowledge on fashion and beauty. Never cutting any corners.

He’ll “eat” up the you who’s drowning in forbidden love for him and melt it into reality, make it come true; as if the effects of the love potion were simply your feelings since the start.

A silky, lustrous mouth sucked on your ear, leaving a thin trail of saliva connecting your sensible lobe to his painted lips. In each teardrop clinging to your lashes, Vil could see your need for him—and it only exacerbated the unabating longing in his chest.

Vil’s slender finger traced along your jawline, tilting your head upwards to gaze upon his impassioned countenance. “Simply perfect. With your lips trembling, breaths thickening⋯ you’re like a ripe fruit. It’s divine,” he praised you, haughty and amorous. “No matter how embarrassing it is, this is who you are.”

Being the one to bring you such heights of beauty and pleasure, Vil was beyond pleased with your quivering body laid beneath him on his bed. His hands moved across your body with such a precision of ardency, it was ethereal. It made you feel hot, needy.

Vil brought his lips down to your exposed collarbone, nibbling at the skin; a sweet scent rose from your heated flesh, letting him suck on the honey-like essence. “Look over there, my doll, in that mirror,” he instructed you, nails digging into your thigh as you obediently did as you were told.

However, upon seeing the silhouette of your own body shaking from your gratification, you squeezed your eyes shut. “Hey, don’t look away. This is what you wanted, right? To receive all my love like this⋯ am I wrong?” A wicked laugh bubbled on his lips, his lips that were still pressed against your clavicle, and the motion magnified his kisses.

Now that he’s gotten a taste, Vil would stop at nothing to continue to devour you—he wanted this sight of you all to himself a little longer. Even if all that reflected in your glossy eyes were nothing more than a sweet lie.

“The ‘you’ who doesn’t hold back in your desires is the most beautiful of them all.”

#riddle rosehearts #lilia vanrouge #vil schoenheit #riddle rosehearts x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #x reader #gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #love potion series

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