#4 word prompt drabbles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pastafossa · 1 month ago

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"Sharing is Caring" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic, 🔥)

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 4 (Matt very much did not like this only being a drabble so now it's 5600 words, fuck me), I chose to combine the kink and fluff prompts (69 and 'Are you blushing?'). You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! And off we go!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 5.6k, Matt fought me and won

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: smutty smut smut, 69 position so oral for both plus face riding, overstimulation, lil bit of prostate stim, multiple orgasms, panty tearing, matt is a MENACE

LOOK AT THIS SMUG MOTHERFUCKER, I HAD A NEAT AND ORDERLY TIMELINE AND A DRABBLE OUTLINE, INSTEAD HE THREW THAT OUT THE WINDOW AND HE HAS FILLED THIS FIC WITH SIN, THE AUDACITY, WHAT TIME IS IT, MATT THIS IS YOUR FAULT

Matt was a giving lover. That much you knew.

No round of sex with Matt ended without at least one orgasm for you, and often more if he had his way, which he often did, the audacity of that man. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend hours with his head buried between your thighs, skilled tongue lapping hungrily at your sex in a way that made you see stars, and had also led to you tearing a hole in the sheets on more than one occasion. He’d bent you over every last surface in the apartment, and some of the surfaces outside it too. Somehow he always managed to sink himself so deeply inside you that you’d have sworn you felt him in your throat, and that feeling was always followed by him fucking into you with a practiced athleticism that never failed to leave you a melted, howling mess.

In other words, if sex with you was an artform, your climax was the masterpiece Matt lovingly devoted himself to creating. You’d never been with someone who took such joy in giving you pleasure. But sometimes he was… too giving.

Like now, when what you wanted was to get that thick cock of his into your mouth.

“Oh, but sweetheart, I’m so hungry,” he purred, a warm, distracting light in his eyes. He was all heat and hungry fire where he stood in the bedroom doorway, a slow, lazy lick of his lips that admittedly had your cunt clenching around nothing. That look meant he had no intention of letting you out of bed for at least the next three hours. The growing outline of his hardening cock against his slacks only confirmed your suspicion as his voice dropped into something low and tempting. “I’ve been thinking about tasting you all day. It’s the only reason I got through work. Let me get my mouth on you, just for a little while. I’ll make it good for you, you know I will. Don’t you want that?”

It was a good offer. A very good offer, and one he was more than capable of fulfilling. You both knew it. But damn it, you also knew what you wanted.

“No,” you said stubbornly, crossing your arms. “I don’t want that.” “Lie,” he murmured. His head cocked, his sightless gaze dropping to your chest, and then lower until they landed somewhere around your hips. His lips slowly curled up into a smirk. “Mm, big lie.” “...Alright, so maybe I always want that,” you admitted reluctantly, biting your lip as you stared down at the outline of your prize, heavy and thick even through the cloth. It was enough to make your mouth water. “But right now I want to suck you off more.”

And god, did you ever. It was rare for him to let you go down on him, but those memories had become regulars in your fantasies. There was just something about his soft moans and hitched whines when you took him in your mouth, the way he threw his head back and his mouth hung slack, his spine arching when you let the tip of your tongue gently brush that spot below the head of his cock until he fucking begged for you to swallow him down. And if you kept going after he’d already come, kept sucking at his softening cock and pressed your knuckle just right behind his balls, drove his trembling, writhing body carefully into overstimulation, you could even drag something like a second orgasm out of him in short succession. He’d been a melted, purring, barely coherent puddle for a good hour when you'd last managed it and you had every intention of seeing if you couldn’t do it again.

His brows shot up, as if he were genuinely surprised at just how truthful you’d been, or maybe surprised at just aroused the thought of your mouth on him made you. But those same brows quickly furrowed in open confusion. “You…” His head shifted back and forth, checking again that you were telling the truth. “You want that? Over me going down on you?” “Why is it so hard to believe I want you like you want me?” You snorted, wandering over to him until you could lean in and kiss him playfully. He still seemed puzzled, but he made a little huff of amusement when you did it again, dragging your nails down the front of his shirt. His chest rumbled beneath your touch, a quiet groan of pleasure. “Come on. Share, Matt. Let me have a taste this time.”

He tipped his head down slowly towards you, clearly tempted. You leaned into him, another rumble leaving him when your lips brushed tantalizingly against the corner of his mouth. You almost had him. The blatant note of your arousal in the air would only help your case now that you were up close. There was a growing flush on his cheeks, and his nostrils flared, taking your scent in when you not-so-subtly rubbed your thighs together. You slowly hooked one finger in his belt, giving it a tug. “Please?” Your desire left you almost breathless, the word hushed and pleading. You weren’t above begging if you needed to. “I need you in my mouth, Matt. You can have me after, can’t you?” “Or…” He drew his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, sucking lightly before letting it go, his mouth parted and wet. “Or we can both get what we want, with a few adjustments.” Oh.

Your breath caught, and you went still, something thick and rich as molten honey rolling through your veins. “Why, sweetheart,” he murmured, dipping his head until he could feather his lips over your ear. One of his fingers brushed over your sternum, so light you almost didn’t feel it, before it traced its way gradually up your throat to your cheek, stirring all the tiny hairs in its wake. “Are you blushing?” “No,” you whispered, caught up in visions of what that might look like, feel like, to have his tongue licking its way hungrily into your cunt, all while you took his cock in your mouth and tried your best to make him lose his mind. Would he grow sloppy then, clumsy when you toyed with the head of him? Or would he tap into that focus of his, the two of you in a blatant competition to see who broke first? You wouldn’t deny just how wet the idea made you, but that would also be a lot of sensation for him, especially when you both knew he could come from the taste of your cunt alone. “Or… yes, I… Would that be… too much? Your senses—”

“I’ll be fine. I may have…” He let out a low chuckle, his own cheeks now the lightest bit pink as he cleared his throat. “I may have gone into the office bathroom before I left work, and… taken care of myself. I’d been thinking about my head between your thighs all day. I had to make sure I could get home.”

The visual slammed into you with the force of a truck: Matt with one scarred hand pressed tight over his mouth to stifle his moans while he frantically stroked at his cock. And it was all because he’d spent hours thinking about how he was going to go home, throw you into bed, and find his way right down to your cunt. Your low moan was quickly swallowed up as he caught your chin and tipped your head up so his lips could find yours. The kiss was all teeth and burning heat, fire and fierce need, his stubble rasping against your skin until you felt like you were on fire. One of his hands swept down and behind you, fingers spread wide as he groped roughly, greedily against your ass. He used that same grip to haul you forward into him, making you whine when his hips ground into yours, letting you feel exactly what you’d done to him. “Fuck,” he breathed. “I can smell you, how wet you are. Tell me you want that, sweetheart. Tell me—” “God yes, please, please, Matt.”

You didn’t bother to keep track of where your clothes fell as you both stumbled your way into the bedroom, neither of you willing to pull your hands and mouths off each other long enough to figure that out. You managed to get everything off but your panties by the time you neared the bed, and you fully intended to slide those off, too, but you were distracted by the pleasure of Matt’s mouth as he determinedly nipped and licked at the skin of your throat, blatantly drinking the pheromones from your skin. Fortunately, Matt was a bit less distracted.

The tearing of fabric rang out, and then Matt’s fingers slipped between your soaked folds, stroking three fingers eagerly along your slit until you gasped out his name.

“Oops,” he said with a smirk.

“You’re paying for those,” you grumbled. “Happily.” He side stepped around you, and by the time you’d turned he was already on the bed, rolling onto his back and tipping his head back in clear expectation. Then he brought his wet, gleaming fingers up to his mouth, inhaling intently as he rubbed his fingers together. The reaction was immediate: a fierce groan, his other hand shooting down to wrap tightly around his cock as his hips bucked.

“Shit,” you whispered, absolutely mesmerized as he took another greedy breath, a creeping flush spreading across his pale skin. He may have come an hour or so ago, but his cock already looked achingly hard, the whole of it flushed dark and red, a decadent droplet of precum beading at the tip. He was an absolute vision, all of that strength and power, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laid out like a meal for you, this affected just by the thought, the scent of your arousal. It lit a fire in you, and Matt must have sensed it, because he let out a growl before giving in and shoving his fingers into his mouth. His eyes snapped shut, a loud moan tearing through him. His other hand started to stroke quickly at his cock, firm drives up with a smooth sweep of his palm over the head before sliding back down, all as he sucked the taste of you eagerly from his fingers, unwilling to lose even a single drop. It was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen. “Holy shit, you’re trying to kill me.” “Get up here and ride my face, sweetheart,” he grit out, shifting to let his thumb rub against the wet head of his cock. A delicious shiver ran through him, and he rolled his head on the pillow to face you. There was something far darker in his eyes, then, whispers of the Devil, of merciless rain on hard city streets. “Do it before I drag you up here myself, because I’m not going to fucking care if you can reach my cock when I do.”

It was the only invitation you needed, and you scrambled up onto the bed before he could change his mind. You had no intention of missing the opportunity he’d given you.

You hit another brief snag, however, once you’d crawled over to him. You’d ridden his face before, but that had always been with you facing the headboard or the arm of the couch. This required the opposite angle. After a moment’s consideration, one that ended quickly when Matt growled a warning, you muttered a quiet, “fuck it,” and did a half turn, throwing your leg quickly over him so you had a knee on either side of his shoulders. Then you walked back a step or two on your knees, Matt’s free hand taking the meat of your thigh in his grip. It was difficult to figure out just where you needed to be to get the angle right. All you could see from this angle was his body stretched out like a long, open road before you, his other hand still stroking roughly at his cock, his knees bent, feet braced so he could rut lazily up into his grip. You didn’t really know where to put your hands, so you settled for placing them against the broad line of his chest, using them to brace yourself as you tentatively adjusted.

Matt, however, had lost his patience.

With a snarl, he let go of his cock. Both his hands caught your hips, and with one hard yank he wrenched you down, burying his mouth against your pussy as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

You both let out a sharp moan, Matt’s far more muffled than yours. There was no gentleness now, no parting you with his fingers to tease you with the tip of his tongue before settling in. Instead, it was something ravenous and filthy, animalistic, Matt’s mouth open wide as he licked and sucked at your folds and slit, greedily drinking up every last drop of your arousal he could find. For a moment you forgot what your plan had been. Your head fell to rest against his abdomen, your lips parted on a whine as Matt devoured your slick with heavy grunts and rumbles of approval, your hips starting to rock against his mouth. He was eating at you with everything in him, no thought given to things like air, based on his hitched breathing and muffled groans. He’d told you once, lips curled into a smirk, his chin still wet with your arousal, that if he died between your thighs, well, he’d consider that death a victorious one.

“Mm—Matt, oh god, please,” you whimpered, your fingers curling against his skin, red lines left in your wake.

Apparently satisfied that he’d taken in everything he could get, Matt tipped his head down just a hair, using his grip on your hips to adjust you until his tongue found your clit. With a purr, he began to lap warmly, steadily at it, over and over and over again, every now and then pursing his lips to kiss at it with a fond affection that was almost tender. The attention to your clit made your eyes flutter shut, quiet whimpers escaping you with each pass of his tongue, your body clenching in want. At the fresh trickle of wetness, Matt groaned in delight. “Taste so good, sweetheart, all mine,” he slurred warmly, syllables thick and sounding almost drugged, before his tongue found you again, falling right back into his aphrodisiac of choice. As he did, his body began to shift beneath you, before settling into a steady rocking. Startled, your eyes fluttered open, and you glanced down his body. What you saw made your mouth fall slack.

Matt had begun to roll his hips, rutting up in lazy waves. At first you thought it might be an invitation, a reminder, but as you watched you quickly realized what he was doing. With every flex and buck of his hips, he managed to rub his cock against his abdomen, just a little. You could already see the smears of precum pooling in the lines and grooves of flexing muscle, and that only made each successful contact smoother, Matt’s moans against your cunt growing stuttered and hoarse. It likely wouldn’t have been enough sensation for anyone else, but for Matt and his senses, it was just enough to drive him further upwards, his thick thighs starting to tremble. Hell, he was probably enjoying it, considering how he liked to tease himself.

Fortunately, it was also a reminder of what you’d wanted to do.

You quickly stretched out above him, headed for your goal. Your hips shifted just a little as you did, and Matt let out a low, possessive growl, his hands tightening on your hips in a warning. He didn’t like the idea that you might pull away before he was done, you had a feeling.

“Relax.” You choked out a shaky laugh, lowering your head to kiss fondly at the crest of his hip. Your affection softened his growl to a gentler, contented groan. “Just-just trying to get to you.” He seemed soothed by that, at least. Then again, maybe he just wasn’t listening, far too focused on your cunt to really hear you. Either way it didn’t matter, because you’d finally maneuvered yourself to where you’d wanted to be. You braced one hand shakily on his thigh, some of your weight settling down on top of him. His chest rose and fell on a happy sigh beneath you, more than happy to have you sprawled out over him. It also meant his cock was now in range of your mouth.

It was even more tantalizing up close, flushed, wet, and practically begging for your attention even if Matt’s mouth was otherwise occupied. You eagerly caught the base of it, wrapping your fingers tight around it. Beneath you he let out a grunt, his tongue faltering against your clit. You had no interest in waiting any longer, so without a second’s hesitation you dipped your head and stuck out your tongue, catching one of the drops of precum rolling down the shaft. From there you rose with one long drag along his length, following that damp trail back up to his tip like you might a melting drop of ice cream. The moment your tongue swept over the head of Matt’s cock, he let out a startled moan, one that morphed into a hoarse cry when you lapped warmly at his slit, chasing the taste of him, taking in every fresh drop that welled up beneath your attention. It had been far too long since you’d gotten to taste him like this, bitter and salty in equal measure, the scent of musk and sex so much stronger here.

“God,” he choked out, squirming beneath you, his hands practically clawing at your hips. His head dropped back and away from your cunt as he gasped up to the ceiling, breath hitching on a high moan as the strokes of your tongue grew more firm. “Ah-ah! Your mouth, sweetheart, I need it, just—”

Time to see if you could break him before he broke you.

You dropped your mouth open wide before starting to slide him into your mouth, using your hand at his base to angle him and make it a little easier. But easier was… relative.

Shit, you thought with a low moan, one that had Matt crying out behind you. He was so fucking thick, broad enough that you felt a faint ache in your jaw, saliva already leaking out past the corners of your mouth to drip down his length. There was no graceful way to swallow him down, but the sensation of your saliva rolling down his shaft, your stifled huffs through your nose as you slowly worked your way down his cock had him absolutely wrecked. His body trembled beneath you, his hips jerking in an only barely aborted attempt to thrust up into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. He actually whined when you gave him your first little suck, and those whines only grew in number as you did it again, his panting music to your ears, so wet you were practically dripping down onto him. And maybe you really had, because before you could blink, he’d yanked your hips back down. This time, however, he brought his hands around so he could use his thumbs to part your body for him. With a wild moan, he’d buried his mouth against your slit, licking hotly at your opening over and over until he’d managed to worm his tongue inside you.

Your eyes rolled back at the feel of his tongue lapping eagerly at your inner walls, his chin grinding roughly against your clit. He’d burrowed in so hard against you it was if were intent on drowning, on latching onto you and never letting go. The angle was perfect, and you found yourself grinding down instinctively against his face, riding his tongue inside you and the stubbled texture of his chin, chasing your pleasure just as you were seeking his. His delighted moan as you started to use him the way he wanted was so muffled you swore he shouldn’t have been able to breathe, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, whining around the length of him in your mouth as he slurped deeper, your thighs locking up around his head, his skin slick with you. He was dangerously close to coming based on the way his cock had started to throb against your tongue, and you weren’t much further behind, but he was clearly aiming to get you there first.

No.

No, you wanted to ruin him too. Focus, just a little more. You clumsily lifted your head halfway up before skating back down to meet your hand around his base. Neither of you were coordinated enough to make this last much longer, too distracted by the rising waves of pleasure, but that didn’t matter. You knew his body. You could outlast him, by a few seconds at least. But to do that, you’d need one more thing. So, determined to win, you quickly worked your free hand down past his cock, pausing to knead briefly at his sac just for the way it made him moan roughly against your cunt before you drifted past it. You didn’t slide your fingers inside him—something you both hadn’t tried quite yet—but you did curl one finger and press your knuckle up gently just behind his balls, indirect pressure against that spot deep inside him.

His back arched so sharply and suddenly beneath you he almost managed to throw you off, and his choked gasp hit air as he threw his head back. With a shaky whine, he ground down desperately against your finger before snapping his hips up, clearly torn between the wet suction of your mouth around his cock and the firm pressure against his prostate. But unlike last time he’d thrown his head back, this time you followed his mouth with your hips. You were too close to that edge now to go without it, especially not with the noises he was making—whimpers and broken moans, slurred pleas—so you tried desperately to find his lips again, grinding down against his face. And though you were reluctant to let him go, you still managed to tear your mouth off his cock just long enough to gasp out, “Fuck, Matt, please!”

Your begging dragged him up out of his haze, and he hunted for your clit with his lips and tongue, licking at your cunt until he finally found it. He closed his lips around it just as you did the same to the head of his cock. Two warm pulls of your mouth to match his, and with one more shove of your finger against that spot inside him, he cried out and came hard into your mouth in salty, bitter waves that tasted like fucking satisfaction. His hoarse moans, desperate and so very needy wound up pushing you the rest of the way. Matt’s tongue lapped sloppily against your clit, and with a moan that matched his, you joined him in falling over the edge, your body tightening and releasing in a rolling tide of pleasure that left you floating, whimpering his name around his cock. He quickly shoved his mouth against your slit, grunting as he greedily drank down everything your body gave him.

You thought you were done, then, your chest heaving, your thighs shaking as the waves began to ease into aftershocks. Matt nuzzled roughly at your clit, his tongue brushing over it almost curiously. Abruptly he moaned, dragging your hips back down. “Don’t stop,” he rasped hoarsely, yanking your hips back down. Just like that, his mouth was on your clit again, which was great except that you still hadn’t quite finished the last orgasm. The sudden rush of overstimulation before you could fully come down left you shaking, clawing wildly at his thighs, but your squirming got you nowhere, your hips firmly held in an iron grip.

Don’t stop.

There wasn’t much you could do but follow the instruction.

You moaned and began to suck clumsily at him, the velvet softness of his cock cradled gently on your tongue. The noise he let out was strangled and hoarse, almost pained, because this had to be too much for him, it had to be, and yet… he couldn’t resist starting to rock up instinctively against your mouth, a broken whimper breathed against your cunt when you managed to probe your tongue against the tip of him. You knew, distantly, remembered that you’d had this plan: if you did this fast enough, did this just right, using his senses to your benefit, you could make him come again. And, well, it had helped before, so you slipped on hand down between his legs again, grinding your finger hard against that spot inside him in steady waves, sucking harder at his cock just for the way it made him writhe. His head snapped back against the pillows, his hands dropping away from you to fist in the sheets. He brokenly cried out your name, his thighs trembling, but you didn’t care, your goal in sight. One of these days you were going to get your fingers inside him to see what noises he made then, and just to taunt him, you hooked and curled your fingers against his soft skin, your message clear.

You weren’t sure who was more startled when he came—you, or him—but either way, he did, his cock only half-hard at best as he snapped his hips up, his body locking up as he spilled into your mouth. He made a sound you’d never heard from him before, one part shout and one part high, hitching moan, the sounds rising falling with each jagged wave of pleasure you dragged him through, almost enough to hide the sound of tearing fabric. There wasn’t much left for his body to give, granted, but you still accepted those few drops anyway, swallowing them down with a satisfied moan as you milked him dry, massaging your fingers against his cock and that spot inside him to drag it out. You didn’t stop until his sounds grew pained, and even then it was a struggle. You had to force yourself to lift your head, sitting back against his chest. The sudden return of pressure against your clit made you whimper, your body shaking, because despite the overstimulation, as predicted he’d managed to shove you up far enough again that you were hanging right on the edge again, orgasm just a breath away.

“Matt,” you choked out, not even sure what it was you needed—his hand maybe, or even just for him to hold still so you could ride some part of him, be it his chest or his abdomen. One glance over your shoulder, however, let you unsure of what he might be able to give.

Matt’s head was still thrown back on the pillow, his wet mouth hanging open as he panted, hair damp and sticking up in every direction. His eyes were glazed over and dark, absent any real awareness or thought. You knew that look. It was one you usually only saw when you’d really managed to fuck him senseless or leave him wrecked. He was out of it, his senses momentarily overloaded, out of order, come back later. You quickly pulled yourself off of him, just in case your weight over him had been unpleasant. He’d need some time to come back to himself, but fortunately, sitting here and staring at what you’d done—Matt Murdock, fucked out and drunk off your body—would be just the sort of visual you needed as you took care of yourself. You dropped one hand, sliding it between your legs until you could circle your clit with your fingertips, your lips parting on a satisfied moan. It wasn’t as good as Matt, but it was good enough.

Or… that’s what you thought you’d do, until Matt’s head snapped in your direction. His hand darted up, grabbing for you.

Except that he missed, his hand snatching at the empty air about two inches to your left.

“Matt,” you huffed shakily, using your other hand to take his. He probably just wanted to stay close, he usually did when you got him like this. “I’m-I’m fine, just, unh, gonna fini—Matt!”

Your hand brushing against his had apparently been the compass he needed. You abruptly found yourself shoved back onto the bed with a grunt. He was on his hands and knees before you could blink, scrambling and groping around the bed to feel out how you’d fallen, his eyes burning and wild. The moment he made contact with you again, he shoved his head forward with a growl, mouthing at you, licking, biting at whatever skin he could find, which happened to be your ribs, the nip of his teeth sharp enough to make you cry out. You knew that you knew you’d have a mark there tomorrow, one to join the bruises on your hip. But it clearly wasn’t the part of you he’d been aiming for, and he snarled in clear frustration, swinging his head back and forth in a failed attempt to orient before he managed to find your hips with his hands. Your own hands wound up tangled in his hair as he dragged himself roughly over your legs, and fuck, if he was offering, you were happy to take it. You canted your hips, tugging at his hair to direct him. “Here!” you gasped, pushing his head down between your thighs. “Here, Matt, right—”

He buried his face sloppily against your cunt again, not a hint of shame or hesitation in him. His furious, messy lapping at your clit was exactly what you needed. The sound you made was raw and torn, almost a shriek as you suddenly got the stimulation you’d been looking for, your body tightening in rapid waves beneath his mouth. He caught your clit between his lips, growled, and sucked hard enough to have you seeing stars. That was it for you, your back arching as you fisted your hands tightly in his hair and came across his tongue, a flood of wetness drenching his face. With every pulsing wave of pleasure, he let out a satisfied little rumble, sucking in time with the rhythm of your body, dragging your orgasm out until the world burned white. The moment those waves began to ebb, he switched to broad flat licks along the entire length of your cunt, moaning and mindlessly drinking up every last drop, his eyes falling half closed in apparent bliss.

Which was nice. Until your body started to request a break.

“Matt,” you choked out, trying to shift away. He instinctively followed, blearily keeping his mouth latched onto your cunt, the pressure on your clit almost painful now. “Matt, that’s—fuck—I need a break, sweetheart, please! Matt!”

The sharp call of his name seemed to snap him out of it, and he finally let you go with a groan. He didn’t get very far, though. All he did was tip his head sideways until it landed on your thigh with a soft thump.

You let yourself breathe for a minute, twitching now and then when an aftershock rolled through you. When you were feeling a little more able to focus, you finally lifted your head to glance at him. “That,” you wheezed, still panting, “was… we need to do that again. But in… in a while.”

He blinked slowly at you, blissed out and lazy as a lion who’d just had a meal. He hadn’t moved from your thigh, his face still shining and absolutely drenched. Then he grinned. The expression was so absolutely, drunkenly smug that you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I take it you’re ok, then?” You snorted, reaching down to stroke your fingers down his wet cheek.

He blinked at you again, and there was a brief delay before his head turned and he nudged affectionately at your hand. Sometimes when his senses got too overloaded after sex, he needed a few minutes without touch to come down. This time, however, it seemed like touch was what he wanted.

“You wanna come up here and listen to my heartbeat until your senses are all back online?”

He seemed to think that over for a minute before he slowly started to drag himself up your body. He didn’t even bother to lift his head from you, simply dragging it along your skin as if he were loathe to lose the sensation of you against him. He only ran into a slight hiccup when he bumped into your breasts. He nosed around for a second, huffing briefly, before he found the space between them and continued on. “You’re drunk as hell,” you choked out a laugh, as he rubbed his ear fondly back and forth over your sternum, hunting for whatever spot sounded best. “You’re legitimately pussy drunk. God, I love you.” He finally selected his spot on your chest, his head dropping down to lay against it. The rest of him followed shortly thereafter as he settled down on top of you with a long groan of satisfaction. He rumbled out a contented sigh as you got your fingers in his hair, stroking through the sweat-soaked strands. One of his hands fumbled its way down to your hip. He kneaded clumsily at it, your affections very much returned. “Mhm. Love you, too.”

“Little more coherent?” “Mm. You taste good.” “So do you. Don’t make me wait so long to get my mouth on you again.”

“Mhm,” he sighed. He absently licked his lips, before purring quietly, his eyes falling shut. “I promise. We’ll share.”

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creativepromptsforwriting · 1 year ago

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Drabble List #8

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"Just one of those days, I guess."

"This makes it easier to identify them."

"Have you ever had friendship bracelets?"

"Feel free to walk all over me."

"You're the one stirring the pot."

"I feel like you don't actually believe me."

"What a tragedy this is."

"This will be permanent."

"Oh well, nothing I can do about it now."

"The media is lying to you - and so is everyone else."

"Just gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

"Silly me to assume you would care."

"You should clean the mess you make."

"My life is amazing, it really is."

"Nothing to complain here."

"I can't believe that we finally made it."

"Thank you so much for this opportunity."

"Mark my words, this will not end cute."

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"You look hot, mama."

"Can you bail me out? Please?"

"What a silly thing to say."

"So, this is it? Really?"

"It will never be truly over."

"That is a fascinating tattoo that you have."

"You're going to jail for this."

"What a dramatic exit."

"I know your friends."

"A seat will be assigned to you shortly."

"Here is a list of all the ways you are wrong."

"We should talk about what happened."

"Do you have your ticket ready?"

"I'm sorry, but our personal goals just don't match up."

"The boxes are all labeled incorrectly."

"Well, you should've listened to me."

"Tragic. That outfit is a disaster."

"I'm sitting front row. I always do."

"Oh you silly little thing."

"What is your star sign?"

"I'm not who you think I am."

"Can't say I'm that surprised."

"Truly legendary."

"Please, sing for me!"

"You are a true party pooper."

"No means don't even try."

"I want to find my soulmate."

"Just forget what you heard."

"Why does this always happen to me?"

"Let's go out for a cheap dinner."

"I don't want to hear about it."

"This must be a joke. Not very good one."

"A list of all the times I was right."

"I can't control my dreams."

"Finally, some common sense."

"Throw me under the bus while you're at it."

"What a wonderful surprise."

"Poor judgement is what it is."

"I was just defending myself."

"Fine, but this will be the last time."

"Oh, that's too bad."

"I will take that as a yes."

"Did we meet before?"

"Sell me your story."

"What's the point in all of this?"

"I couldn't see what actually happened."

"Can you lend me some money?"

"So start from the beginning."

"Truly, a flawless plan."

"I haven't done this in forever."

"Let's have some fun."

"What an icon."

"Make me believe it."

"It's an investment."

"There will be an extra fee included."

"Let's go back. Nothing to do here anymore."

Have fun creating and writing!

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

#drabble prompts #prompt list #writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr

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revasserium · 9 months ago

Note

hiii can i pls request zayne with prompt 60 “home”? also love ur writing btw and i look forward to reading more of ur works <333

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

60. home

zayne; 2,264 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, fade to black, zayne being a simp as per usual

summary: a friday afternoon

a/n: idk i just love writing dialogue for zayne he's so !!!!

The Hospital - Friday, 4:36PM

Linoleum floors and fluorescent lights; the smell of antiseptic, the rhythmic beeps and hums of heart rate monitors and nebulizer machines. He spends too much time here, knows the flow of the hospital like he knows the web of arteries and capillaries in the human body, the wards branching off of each other, the hustle and bustles of nurses and staff familiar, oppressive.

It is only in the quiet of his own office, with its big windows and even bigger piles of paperwork (be it virtual or physical), that he ever allows himself to relax. He glances at the vase of brightly colored tulips on his desk and allows himself a grin. He remembers the shape of you, can feel the weight of your hand in his as you’d tugged him around the farmer’s market on Sunday morning, pointing at the various vendors, asking to try a bite of this and a bit of that, until finally, you’d come across the flower seller — a middle-aged woman with a sweet smile and a gleeful glint in her eyes as she explained about the language of flowers.

“There’s sunshine in your smile,” you’d repeated, looking down at the yellow tulips before grinning up at Zayne.

“Perfect for you, isn’t it?”

He could hear the tease in your voice, see that familiar playful twinkle in your eyes and he’d raised an eyebrow before wordlessly handing over a few bills from his wallet.

And now the flowers sit, quiet save for all their brilliance, on his desk, in a simple vase filled with crystal-clear water. He stares at it for a second longer before pulling out his phone and swiping it open to your contact.

Coming home early today, he texts. Immediately, a typing bubble appears, and a second later, a short shoomp sound as your reply appears on his screen —

oh? dr. zayne leaving work early??? is the sun setting in the east today?

He chuckles to himself before dialing your line and a second later, your voice answers, a little hesitant.

“Hello?”

“If you’re going to be sarcastic, at least do it in person.”

Shuffling noises, and then — “Not my fault you’re never around for me to be mean to you in person.”

Zayne leans back in his chair with a sigh, “Hn. How’s shopping with Tara?”

“Fun! But my legs are getting tired…”

“I can meet you at the main shopping center around 5:30.”

A moment of quiet, and then “Ah… but that’s still an hour from now…”

Zayne scoffs, “I could stay till 7PM like I usually do —”

“No, no! That’s… that’s not what I meant — I’ll see you at 5:30, then? Don’t be late!”

You end the call before he can protest and for a second, Zayne stares at the screen, the picture of your smiling face fading after another few seconds as the phone screen darkens.

“Doctor? Your next patient is here,” the nurse calls through his closed door.

“Yes, I’ll be right there.” Zayne glances once more at the yellow tulips on his desk before pushing himself up and adjusting his white coat. He’ll have to make a note to change the water soon.

City Center Shopping Mall - Friday, 5:38PM

“You made it!”

Zayne turns at the sound of your voice to find you slightly breathless as you jog up to him, coming to a stop a few steps away.

“You sound surprised.”

A blush dusts your cheeks as you avert your eyes, “I — I’m not! I just thought… you might be a bit later than this.”

Zayne keeps his expression neutral even as he reaches out to take your hand, casually lacing his fingers between yours. He feels you give him a small squeeze and contents himself with letting you take the lead as the pair of you start to wander through the mall, glancing at the window displays.

“Oh… that smells good!” you both pause as the smell of scallions and garlic warms the air. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, “I think it’s coming from that restaurant over there! Tara was telling me that it just opened a week ago and it’s already going viral online for their stuffed pancakes —”

“C’mon then.” Zayne starts off for the restaurant.

“W-wait! We don’t have a reservation! We’ll never get in!”

Zayne keeps walking, gently tugging you behind him till you both round the corner to see a truly impressive line outside the restaurant doors. He walks passed the massive line straight to the front where a smiling girl in a flowery apron stands at an electronic podium, taking down the names of the next party in line.

“Is Liam here?”

“O-oh! Uhm, I think so!” the girl blinks, surprised as she looks down at her reservation list, “May I ask who’s asking?”

“Zayne.”

The girl nods as she slips into the restaurant. Beside him, you look up, confused.

“Do you know someone here?”

Zayne nods but doesn’t explain any further as the smiling girl comes back and motions for you both to follow her.

“Right this way Dr. Zayne! Enjoy your meal!”

Zayne gives your hand a small tug as you stumble after him, the confusion on your face blossoming into something like surprise as the pair of you duck into the bustling restaurant to be greeted by an enthusiastic young man, around Zayne’s age, his sleeves rolled up, a bandana tied around his forehead.

“Zayne! You should’ve told me you were coming!”

“It was a last-minute decision,” Zayne supplies, shaking Liam’s hand firmly, pulling you into his side even as Liam’s eyes slide onto you.

“Oh… is this the girl you were always talking about back in —”

“I think we’ll take a booth in the back, thanks,” Zayne cuts him off with a loud cough, already making for the back of the restaurant. Liam laughs good-naturedly, leading you both to a booth tucked in the very corner, away from most of the noise and bustle.

You inch into the booth, casting Zayne a curious look.

“Is that the owner? How do you know him?”

Zayne doesn’t look up as he glances over the menu before pushing it towards you.

“We went to medical school together. Pick anything you want, it’s all very good.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “And he decided to become a chef instead?”

Zayne’s lips twitch, “Is that so unbelievable?”

You shrug, looking down at the menu at last, pursing your lips, “No… it’s just… did he drop out of med school then?”

Zayne shakes his head, “No, he was one of the best in our year.”

“Oh. Then…?”

Zayne taps the menu, “I thought you were hungry.”

You blush, looking down, “I am!”

It’s not till the middle of the meal that Zayne speaks again —

“He said it didn’t make him happy.”

You look up, your cheeks bulging with food. Zayne watches you swallow with a concerted effort, reaching out to wipe at your lips with an indulgent smile even as you swat at his hand.

“Liam? About… being a doctor?”

“Yes. And… in a way, I understood him. He said that the kitchen’s always felt more like home.”

You purse your lips, looking at your half-eaten stuffed pancake.

“Then… does the hospital feel like home? To you?”

Zayne chuckles, leaning forward to add some more veggies to your bowl with his chopsticks.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then…” you trail off, waiting for his answer. There’s a familiar color seeping into your cheeks as Zayne looks you over before his eyes flicker down to your bowl.

“Eat. Or else the veggies will go cold.”

Zayne’s Apartment - Friday, 7:01PM

“I’m so full!” you slump down onto his couch with a long sigh, patting your stomach.

“You were the one who wanted seconds of dessert,” Zayne says, hanging up his coat and turning to join you on the couch. You make a small noise as he lifts your legs and lays them across his lap, his thumbs absently digging into the backs of your calves.

“Ow…” you make to jerk your leg away as he hits a knot but he only grips your ankle and pulls it back with a soft tut.

“Hold still.”

You bury your face in one of the couch cushions as he continues to silently knead at your calf muscles.

“There, better?” his voice is soft now, tugging on the frayed ends of your subconscious as you turn your head to blink at him, a bit dazed.

“Yeah… lots better. Thanks.”

You make to get up but he loops an arm around your back and lifts you easily from the couch, bridal style.

“Zayne?”

“You’re staying the night, right?” he asks, even as he makes for the bedroom.

“I — I am?”

He glances down at your face as he sets you down on his bed.

“I can still drive you home if you want —” He makes to pull away.

“No! I — I can stay. I mean — I want to stay.” You reach up to tug at his shirt, fingers crumpling the material as he stills. You can feel your cheeks blazing as his gaze flickers over your face before settling on your lips.

“Alright then.”

There’s a breath’s pause before you give his shirt another tentative tug and he tips forward with the motion, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

A soft groan bubbles out of you as Zayne presses you back and back and back, until he’s caged over you, trailing hot lips down the line of your neck, skimming his teeth along your collarbones.

“Mm — Z-Zayne…?”

He pulls back, his eyes a bit unfocused as he looks you over — you can feel the weight of his gaze as it flutters over the planes and ridges of your face, from the arch of your brows to the line of your nose. You can’t help blushing beneath this intense scrutiny, and you tug once more at his shirt, your fingers somehow having inched up to his collar, one of your fingers hooked into the top loop of his buttons.

He reaches up to cover your hand with his, fingers easily curling around your smaller hand.

“What is it?”

You lick your lips, stomach twisting, the base rumble of his voice sending shivers shaking through your body.

“Nothing just… I don’t remember you drinking at dinner so…”

He leans down to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand before dropping it back to his shirt collar.

“No, but… alcohol’s not the only thing that might cause someone to lose hold of their senses…”

You watch as his eyes darken at your intake of breath, the way his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Then…” you swallow, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his lips trail back up your neck to your jaw.

“Are you going to make me say it?”

You let out a tiny whimper as he presses a leg up between yours, his breath now hot against the lobe of your ear.

“Say… what?”

Zayne pulls back just far enough to cock an eyebrow at you. And like this, you’ve never seen anything so alluring — the sight of him with his shirt tugged open, his eyes blown dark with desire, his hair slightly mussed from your eager fingers, his lips kissed pink, his cheeks warm with color.

“Hn. Is this my punishment then?”

“For what?”

“For being late to meet you.”

You fight back a grin, “Well… you did say I could be mean to you in person.”

Zayne lets out a sigh, “Alright then.”

You walk your fingers up his chest before pushing him back till you’re both sitting up again. He waits patiently for you to push him down and straddle his hips, slowly tugging open the buttons of his shirt, loosening his tie till it hangs undone around his neck. You lean in to press a soft kiss to his chest and revel in the way he hisses.

His fingers reach up for your hips and you catch them with a quick shake of your head.

“No touching… not till I say.”

Zayne stares at you for a second before relaxing and letting his hands fall back onto the sheets.

And it’s not until you lean down to kiss at his exposed abdomen that he groans, head tipping back. Then, a second later, you find yourself pinned beneath him, breathless, Zayne towering over you with parted lips, the moon casting stark shadows along the lines of his face.

“I said you could be mean… I didn’t say I wouldn’t retaliate.”

After, when the pair of you are curled into each other like pieces of jigsaw puzzle that’s finally found its missing parts, his breath warm along the nape of your neck, Zayne finds himself smiling.

“It’s always been you…” he murmurs, though he’s nearly certain you’re already asleep, your breathing sweet and level, your body pliant and perfect against his.

He laces his hands between yours and drops a soft kiss onto the skin of your bare shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter what I do… or where I do it… because my home has always been… you.”

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ajortga · 26 days ago

Text

sweater

pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader

word count: 406 (drabble)

summary: tara'll always put her needs before hers, that is if you even let her.

spooktober request

can i request the “c - "you're cold, take my sweater" and the sweater ends up being gigantic on you.” prompt w tara swearing she’s not cold but she is

October was always the change of weather, it was the best because both you and Tara both loved colder seasons more.

In the summer months, it would be hot. And even in September, the arrival of fall, it would grow even hotter. You both would say, “At least you can wear as many layers as you want to get warmer, unlike being full on naked and still sweating to death.”

And now that the foggy and cold crisp air flew through the air, it was like a breath of new, fresh air.

Except it was a little too chilly, a small shiver crawling down your spine as you and Tara walk around the town of Woodsboro. You were freezing. You were wearing the thinnest long sleeve ever in 46 degree weather.

Even the pumpkin spiced latte that was in your system was fading in on you.

After a while, Tara could definitely tell you were cold. She was wearing two layers, a long sleeve much thicker than yours and a sweater over it. She immediately tilts your head towards hers and takes in how the tip of your nose was light red. “You’re cold, take my sweater.” She says, insisting.

You shake your head, cuddling into her. “You have worse cold tolerance than me, you’ll freeze to death.”

“I’ll rather freeze to death than let you freeze to death first.” She argues, taking off her sweater and putting it over your head.

It was rather huge on you, hanging limply to your sides as you looked up at her with a frown. “Can’t we share it?”

“No, I swear I’m not cold,” the freckled brunette shivers, and you give a loud huff. What a liar she was.

After 4 minutes of walking through shops, you could swear people were complaining as you and Tara went, ‘no’ and ‘yes’ at least 100 times.

Tara tilts her head, looking at your pleading eyes as you say, “I will take it off if you don’t share it with me. I don’t care if we look silly.”

Even if she argued, you would argue back till the depths of the earth. So she sighed, looking at your small frame looking expectantly up at her. The next thing she knew, you both were walking through the streets of Woodsboro with your heads popped up out of the head hole.

At least it works, and it makes you feel even warmer with Tara’s body heat closer to you.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #jenna ortega imagines #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #vada cavell x you

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vivid-ink · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober #1 - Handjob "Mission Accomplished"

fem!HumanReader x Neteyam or Lo'ak (you pick! 😉)

Summary: You've been asked to fill in for Norm on one of his Na'vi patient observations, except this isn't any old observation appointment... You need to collect a semen sample and the appointment doesn't go at all to professional plan...

Warnings: 🔞 Sexual content 18+, MDNI 🔞 Word count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Happy Kinktober everyone! 😁 I'm late with this prompt as it was completely unplanned. I got inspired late last night after posting Part 4 of 'The Love Shack' and this is what my brain spat out! As usual, my inability to write short drabbles means that what was meant to be a short, sweet kink-scene turned out to be 4.6k. I've not used any names in this piece, so you're free to imagine either Neteyam or Lo'ak as the male lead in this. Enjoy the spice ya'll!

Tagging some mooties who may be interested (no pressure though): @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @adrianarose7 @vintaqestar @eyweveng @qcswrites @daeneeryss @oasiswithmyg @delacruzyari @teymars @neteluvr @sulieykte @teyamsatan

And OMG (I feel absolutely rotten for overlooking this until now) - Thank you to the incredible @cinetrix for her render of Neteyam which I've used in the story cover.

You swallowed tightly as Dr Blaise briefed you around the purpose of today’s observation and what was required of you. Your heart was galloping in your chest and you could feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat. It amazed you how unconcerned and unaffected she was about the whole thing.

“It’s a simple observation. We’re looking for any key physical differences in appearance, as well as any differences in physiological function.” Dr Blaise stated casually, “No swabs or bloods needed today. Just some notes, photos, and a semen sample. There are sample collection jars in the consultation bay already.”

A semen sample… Good Lord, she said that with all the nonchalance of someone asking for a saliva sample. Though you figured that’s what medical professionalism was all about, right? No awkwardness, no emotion, just plain science and fact.

When Dr Norm Spellman had said that he was writing a book about Pandoran Biology and Na’vi Physiology, you’d jumped at the opportunity to be involved. After all, Pandora was your home. It was the only home you’d ever known. As one of the only two human babies to be born on Pandora, you and Spider were the only generation of humans who’d never known the dying mother planet Earth.

Unlike Spider though who had taken to life on Pandora like a duckling to water, scaling trees, swinging from branches and pretty much adopting himself into the Omatikaya clan, you weren’t anywhere near as outgoing. You’d stuck to the medical labs and the avatar camp for majority of your life, rarely venturing out into the wilderness except to accompany the other scientists on their excursions. Perhaps the only similarity you shared with Spider was that you too were an orphan of war. Your parents had been on the frontlines of the battle between Toruk Makto and the RDA, and they’d met their maker on that fateful day.

You were just an intern currently, but the older staff and scientists were more than willing to teach you. Doing lab observations, drawing blood and other lab technician work was your job, so this morning’s appointment shouldn’t have been any different. And yet it was.

You’d never had to collect a semen sample before.

“Patient is a young unmated male, 23 years of age. Fit. Occupation is hunter-warrior. No pre-existing medical conditions and no recent injuries.” Dr Blaise rationally, handing you the clipboard and pen, “The patient has also been briefed about this appointment, so he knows what to expect and he’s aware he needs to produce a sample.”

“Right, understood.” You mumbled and the words were slightly hoarse. You cleared your throat, dislodging the sticky lump of uneasiness there.

Sensing your discomfort, Dr Blaise placed a heartening hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were kind and the crows’ feet at their corners crinkled as she smiled, “Look, the patient is friendly with the team, one of Jake Sully’s sons actually. So you needn’t worry about any hostility. You’ve done numerous observations and collected all sorts of samples. This is no different. It’s only awkward if you’re awkward. Besides, I’m sure you can understand why Dr Spellman didn’t want to conduct this particular observation himself, what with them being family friends and all.”

A giggle and snort left you at the humorous thought and you found you had to agree. Dr Blaise chuckled alongside you. It would definitely be ten times more awkward if the patient and medical professional were familiar with each other during this observation.

The fleeting moment of hilarity eased the nervous roil in your belly. Tucking your pen into the breast pocket of your lab coat, you took a deep breath and nodded, “Ok, I’ve got this. Thanks Dr Blaise.”

With two thumbs up and a wink, Dr Blaise turned and left you to depart down the corridor, her black pump heels clicking neatly across the hard floor.

Turning to the wall, you grabbed an exopack kit and hooked it to the leather belt around your hips. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you positioned the mask over your face and returned to the doorway that led into the consultation bay. The doorway was tall, much taller than you were used to. All the consultation bays were built big enough with high enough ceilings to accommodate the Na’vi and the avatars. While the main ventilation in the compound was suited to human lungs, the consultation bays were fitted with ventilation to suit their Pandoran patients. Scanning your ID card on the panel of blinking lights on your right, the door slid open with a hiss and you stepped into the bay.

The first thing that always hit you when you entered any of the consultation bays was the sterile scent of it. After a couple of years working here you’d think you’d have got used to it, but every single time the smell was like a synthetic slap to your senses. You wrinkled your nose in distaste. Everything smelled so chemical; too clean and too artificial. It was no wonder the Na’vi didn’t like being in here. If the smell was strong to your human nose, you could only imagine how much more potent it was to their heightened senses.

The second thing to hit you this morning was the sight of the magnificent creature that was standing in the corner of the bay, peering at the various medical models, instruments and books in the wall-mounted glass cabinet. He’d been facing away from you at first, but the sound of your footsteps had caught his attention and he turned to face you then.

A genial smile stretched across his face and he greeted you in a voice that was deep and warm, “Good morning, doctor.”

His use of English surprised you and while his words were accented, his pronunciation was clear. Go figure that Jake Sully would’ve taught his children to speak his mother tongue.

You gave a clumsy laugh and you were quick to correct your patient, “Oh, I’m not a doctor. I’m just an intern. I’m just filling in for Dr Spellman for this observation.”

Your patient grinned toothily at you and gave a nod of his head in acknowledgement, although his tone was teasing when he replied, “Alright Dr ‘Just-An-Intern’, where would you like me?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up from your throat at his playful demeanour. You smiled at him. He was charming this one, handsome too. Like all Na’vi, he towered well above you in height at approximately nine and a half feet. Though you noted that he was very well-built. Courtesy of being a warrior, you supposed. Yes, he was muscular in all the places you appreciated in a male… You silently reprimanded yourself for your unprofessional thoughts.

“Just take a seat on that gurney for me.” You replied, gesturing towards the make-shift bed against the wall. Retrieving your pen, you began to scan through the notes at the top of the form on the clipboard, double-checking the patient’s details and ensuring everything on it was as it should be.

“Ah, do you want me to take my tewng (loincloth) off?”

Suddenly remembering the aim of the observation again, you felt hot blood rush to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment, “Umm, yes please.” And in a bid to stop your embarrassment running away with your courage, you launched into a rambling outline of the appointment agenda, “Today’s appointment is an observation around Na’vi male genitalia and sexual function. I’m going to need to make some notes and take some photographs of you, both in a r-relaxed and a-aroused state, and I’m going to need to collect a s-semen sample. If you feel uncomfortable at any point…”

He watched you attentively as you babbled onward, the smooth skin of your face and neck taking on a ruddy and flushed hue. He smiled to himself. You were shy and today’s agenda clearly made you uneasy. He felt a twinge of empathy for you. His father had told him that humans were private about matters of the body, especially where it came to sex and pleasure. The Na’vi held no such restraints; sexual freedom was celebrated.

He’d already removed his tewng and had perched himself on the gurney as instructed, unbothered and uncaring of his own nakedness. He was quietly enjoying your discomfort, but not in a rude or condescending manner. He actually found your unease rather endearing.

“Any questions?” Your prattling came to a finish and you took a deep inhale as if you’d squeezed every last ounce of oxygen out of your lungs rushing to finish your speech without taking another breath.

He graced you with another charming smile, “No. You may proceed.”

Willing yourself to get a grip, you walked on slightly shaky legs to the desk in the corner and plucked the glass tablet from its stand and returned to place it on the end of the gurney. You kept your eyes lowered to your clipboard, filling in the date and the time. You could see the striped cobalt of his muscular legs in your peripheral vision where he sat with his shins dangling off the gurney. For the meantime, you dared not glance any higher than his thighs…

Your eyes moved to a set of highlighted bullet points in the middle of the page that indicated questions the patient had to be asked.

You read the first question aloud, its meaning registering simultaneously in your brain as the words left your lips, “When was the last time you ejaculated?”

You fought the mortification that threatened to consume you and your mind struck up a chant of ‘stay professional, stay professional’ in your head.

“Yesterday morning.” His answer was composed.

“And was that with a partner or was it self-stimulated?” Fuck, maybe you should’ve read the questions before coming in for the observation…

“It was self-stimulated.”

“And do you have a preference for male partners, female partners, or both?”

“Female. Definitely female.”

His voice was a smooth, velvety rumble. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something in his tone stroked over you like an invisible caress that made something clench in your lower belly. You scribbled his answers on the page in a messy scrawl that had more to do with your nerves than your actual style of handwriting.

He continued to observe you as you worked. Your knuckles were pale where your left hand gripped hold of the clipboard and you were so focused, almost concentrating too hard on what you were writing. Nose twitching quietly, he parted his lips and scented the air around. The artificial smell of the bay was unpleasant, but a sweeter and much more appealing smell was filling the vicinity now. Your scent.

The blush on your skin remained and he was sure that if he reached out to touch you that your skin would be hot to the touch where your blood had rushed to the surface. He could smell hints of your perspiration and he could also detect a musky and moist feminine undertone. You were attracted to him… His masculine pride delighted in the realisation. Despite your human form, he found you attractive too.

Finishing up your notes, you settled the clipboard down on the gurney and mentally prepared yourself for the ‘looking’ part of the observation.

Eyes still glued to the brown leather of the gurney’s mattress, you declared your next action, “Alright, just stay relaxed for me with your thighs slightly parted. I’m going to begin the physical part of the observation now.”

“Sure.”

Your gaze travelled from the beautiful stripes on his outer thighs inward to the slightly paler blue of his inner thighs and finally, up to his groin. Suddenly, you didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this. He looked fairly… normal? Apart from the general larger size of everything and the blue hue of his skin, everything was as expected. Feeling a little braver now, you grabbed the glass tablet and took a couple of photos and then set it down to return to your clipboard.

“Is everything the same?” He asked out of the blue, “Same as with human males, I mean.”

You looked to his face instinctively and found his amber eyes trained on you, “Ah yes, more or less. Penis, foreskin, testes; everything expected is there and I haven’t noted any real differences in physiology apart from the lack of hair, but that’s consistent with the lack of body hair all Na’vi have apart from on your heads and tail tufts.”

Following the words down the clipboard sheet you came to a section that was titled ‘Texture and Sensitivity’. You paused. How the fuck were you supposed to assess those? The section didn’t have any required questions or sample questions to help you, and no suggestions either, just a space for you to jot down your notes. You looked from your patient’s body and then to his face, and when he gave you a small smile, your gaze shot back down to your clipboard sheet in embarrassment. Texture and sensitivity were tactile aspects. You didn’t really understand how you could assess them without touching the patient.

Evidently you were taking too long in your deliberation, because your patient’s voice sounded again with a gentle query, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to work out how to assess the next bit.” You apologised sheepishly. You weren’t doing a very good job of appearing collected, you realised.

“What’s the next part?”

“Texture and sensitivity. So, what it feels like and which parts respond the most to touch.” You stated in as even a voice as possible. You huffed out a laugh then and shrugged, “It’s a tricky one because they’re tactile observations and I don’t know how to assess them when you can’t touch the patient.”

“Why can’t you touch the patient?” His response was clearly a surprise to you and he couldn’t suppress his grin as you goggled at him in shock, “You can touch me if it will enable you to do your job.”

You were almost about to say that you couldn’t possibly do that, but you stopped yourself. You were a med-science professional. The patient was consenting and your research required you to perform a physical examination. In a professional capacity, there was no reason you couldn’t touch the patient to achieve the intended outcome of the examination.

You remembered Dr Blaise’s words: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Fuck, you needed to swallow a bucket of concrete and toughen up. The sooner you completed this observation, the sooner you would be out of this uncomfortable situation.

Nodding resolutely, you agreed, “Alright, but you will guide me with your own hands. That way I can be assured that you’re only leading me where you’re comfortable to be examined.”

Your patient dipped his head in agreement, the tuft of his tail curling and uncurling charmingly on the gurney next to him. You set your clipboard down and moved to position yourself before him, standing between his knees. You lifted your eyes to his and they locked with his gentle gaze. Tentatively you offered him your hand and he took it, his large palm and long fingers engulfing it easily.

“So first up, texture?” He reminded, and you nodded.

Slowly, he brought your hand to his crotch and settled your hand over the shaft of his cock. It was very warm beneath your palm. Gently, your fingers tested the slightly springy flesh, noting how smooth and silken his skin was. At this closer proximity, you noticed that there was also spattering of bioluminescent freckles on the shaft. You made a mental note of that.

You touched the base of his cock, gingerly feeling around the length of it and you asked, “What’s the sensitivity like here?”

“I can feel it, but it’s not intense or anything. It’s more sensitive up here.” He guided your fingers nearer to the tip and you stifled a small gasp when he assisted you in pushing his foreskin back to reveal the smooth, dark purple head of his cock.

You’d never interacted with a naked man this close, human or Na’vi, and you certainly had never touched one in such an intimate place. Your body was starting to tingle in various places; in very unprofessional places. It was a surreal situation to be in and you found that you felt oddly calmer now than you were a few minutes ago.

Trailing the pads of your fingers over the smooth tip, you found it was moist and a little slippery. Your thumb tested the underside of it, “Sensation?”

A quiet hiss left him and you instinctively attempted to move your hand away, but his hold over your wrist kept it there, “That’s sensitive. That feels good.”

Your heart was still thumping and your cheeks were still warm, but it wasn’t nerves anymore that were causing your reaction. God, his skin was so soft and so warm… Your curiosity was growing now; your innate desire to explore taking hold of you.

You traced the raised rim of his cock head with your thumb and forefinger, watching as your patient emitted a rumbling groan. His hold on your wrist tightened and he began to move your hand over him. You intuitively wrapped your fingers around his cock. You felt entranced almost, caught up in the moment as you unwittingly began to enjoy the feel of him in your grasp.

The hot flesh in your hand was growing, elongating and engorging as the stimulation aroused him. You watched, amazed, as it swelled to its full capacity. The fingers and thumb of your hand could no longer meet each other. The girth of his cock was easily the same width as your forearm and by your approximations, it looked like it had also more than doubled in length from its relaxed state.

The erect shaft had lengthened out of his foreskin and it was a lovely shade of striated blue all over, except for a paler purple underside and head. In its aroused state, you discovered that while it shared structural similarities to a human male’s genitalia, it also possessed other aspects which were very different. The engorged shaft of his cock was ridged all along its length and as your hand smoothed up and down the column of it, you noted that the ridges were firm and palpable against your hand.

It was the most arousing thing you’d ever seen… Those ridges must feel so good inside for the woman…

You didn’t perceive his eyes on you, watching you as you explored his hard flesh. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even cotton on to the fact that he wasn’t even guiding your hand anymore. He could smell you, smell your arousal dampening between your thighs and the sight of your much smaller hand stroking and squeezing his cock was incredibly sexy.

You ran your enclosed hand in one full stroke from the base of cock and up to the head of it, fascinated by the ridged texture of it and the slippery, bulbous tip. However, your patient emitted a hissing intake of breath then and you jumped a little, snapping out of your thoughts.

“S-Sorry! Is that painful?” You stammered, shooting him a slightly apologetic frown.

He shook his head with a husky chuckle, “No, it’s just very sensitive. A lot more than earlier.”

“Where?” You asked, stroking him from tip to base and back up again.

“Everywhere. The ridges and the head especially.” His voice was notably breathier than before and his breaths were coming quicker, shallower and less even.

“That is fascinating.” You muttered, and your other hand joined in on your exploration. You fondled his balls lightly, observing the weightiness of them.

Your patient grunted and he parted his thighs a bit more. He leaned back to brace his weight on his palms behind him. He gave a small roll of his hips, which caused the top half of his cock to push and pull within your grasp. He moaned and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. When you didn’t object, he continued the motion, thrusting lightly into your hands, both of which were now grasping his length one on top of the other.

Clear and viscous pre-ejaculate began to ooze from his tip, increasing in quantity with each roll of his hips. It was so copious that it was beginning to pool on the backs of your palms and drip down towards your wrist. Lord help you… there was nothing professional anymore about what you were doing… Not that your patient appeared to have any objections…

Still completely spellbound by the situation, your curiosity pushed a murmured query past your lips, “Is there always so much pre-ejaculate?”

“Depends. Generally the more aroused a man is, the more he produces.” He replied and when your bashful gaze lifted to meet his, he smirked wickedly.

You were such a pretty little thing to him, your smaller hands trying their best to keep hold of his slick cock. He knew that this was beyond the normal boundaries of the appointment. He knew that while you would’ve been required to touch him to examine him, stroking him off was probably not anywhere on the agenda. He suspected he was supposed to produce the sample on his own, but looking at you now, so enraptured by his body… How could he have resisted? And besides, he knew you were enjoying this as much as he was, your scent told him so.

You tightened your hold on his cock experimentally, squeezing harder. Each time the swollen head of his cock pushed out of your hands to greet you, you swiped your thumb over the oozing slit on its tip. He was panting heavily now, his impressive abdominals bunching and flexing as he continued to thrust his thick cock through your hold. The bioluminescent freckles that dotted his shaft were glimmering brightly and you never thought you’d ever use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe genitalia, but his cock was gorgeous.

All of him was gorgeous, truth be told…

You were attracted to Na’vi men. Ever since you were old enough to notice the opposite sex, you’d been drawn to male Na’vi. After all, you’d grown up on this moon, inhabited by and surrounded by tall, beautiful Na’vi. The humans who surrounded you at the compound and the camp were your family, and they were all much older. There were no men of your own species to look at or be attracted to. Spider was the only one of your generation and he was like your annoying, gross brother. Your attraction to Na’vi men had been an inevitable result really.

So now as you stood in the consultation bay, between the knees of this striking and aroused Na’vi male while he pumped his cock in and out of your hands, you’d never felt more validated and aroused in your life.

Your patient’s fingers were digging into the squeaky brown leather of the gurney now, straining slightly as his hips continued their onslaught. Your hands and wrists were completely drenched, soaking in his thick pre-cum. The slippery mess caused his cock to squelch obscenely as it slipped through your hold. The whole situation was so sensually explicit and you were never more thankful in your life than you were now that there were no CCTV cameras installed in the consultation bays.

You’d be expelled from your chosen profession for patient abuse… Though by the half-lidded, slack-jawed expression of pleasure on his face, he didn’t look much like he was being unwillingly abused…

A string of Na’vi curses left him then, followed by several panted moans. He abruptly pushed off his palms to sit upright and he stuttered, “W-Where is the container?”

A little stunned by his sudden and urgent tone, you stumbled in your own response, “The w-what? Oh, the sample jar?”

Panting heavily through parted lips, he nodded at you and you pointed to the desk on his left. You saw his gaze follow your eyeline and when he caught sight of the plastic collection jars that sat patiently waiting, he let out a hearty guffaw.

He reached for one and deftly flicked the already loosened lid from its mouth, still chuckling away between his huffing breaths, “It’s so small. You ready, doc?”

“For what?” You asked, realising only as the words left you what a dumb response it was as he handed the sample jar to you.

Your patient smiled at you and it was a salacious leer, all narrowed eyes and pointed canines showing, “You’re about to get your sample.”

One of his hands returned to guide yours, wrapping around your one remaining hand where it encircled his stiff cock. The pace of this rocking thrusts increased and he began to exhale with throaty moans that you swore made your own feminine core throb with desire. Gingerly, you held the collection jar up to him, being extra careful not to drop it.

With two more lurching breaths, his abdominal muscles contracted and his back bowed inward, his entire torso going rigid. You felt his cock harden impossibly before it pulsed and the breath he was holding left him in a coarse growl while his face twisted into an almost pained expression. His cock pulsed again and the first spurt of ejaculate missed the sample jar entirely, landing with a warm splat in the middle of your chest where the frills of your blue blouse peeked out from behind your lab coat. Quickly, his free hand grabbed hold of yours to position the jar better, while his other hand attempted to position his cock so he could shoot straight into it.

He was absolutely breathtaking in the midst of his orgasm. The luminous freckles on his face were twinkling and the striped cobalt skin of his neck and chest was glossy with a sheen of sweat. His cock continued to throb and pulse, emitting rope after rope of thick cum that splattered untidily over the mouth and sides of the sample jar.

You could see why he’d laughed at the size of it. There was no way the small jar could have held the full volume of what he was producing.

Coming down now off the high of his climax, your patient slouched against the wall behind the gurney, breathing hard. He caught your eye and he grinned indolently at you.

The adrenalin and heightened arousal in the atmosphere was fading rapidly now, and cold, hard reality was slowly returning to you. You looked at the pearlescent contents of the sample jar, which was still decently full despite majority of the sample not making it in there. You smiled to yourself.

Mission accomplished and what an exciting mission it was…

Carefully setting the jar down on the flat worktop of the metal sink next to you, you replaced the lid on it with sticky fingers and made a note to thoroughly wipe the jar down later before handing it to the lab techs.

Returning your attention to your patient, you smiled at him, suddenly shy again, “Thank you for your co-operation today. I’ll leave you to clean and freshen up. You can see yourself out after.”

His answering laugh was husky and he dipped his head at you, “I should be thanking you for your co-operation I think, doc.”

“Not a doc, remember?” You grinned at him and you were about to turn on heel to depart into the adjacent washroom when you heard him call out to you again.

“Hey Not-A-Doc, if you ever need another sample, I’m happy to provide another one, whether for med-science research or your own personal research.”

A girlish giggle left you and you felt your face flame again. You shook your head, making your way into the washroom to clean yourself up. He was a naughty one that one…

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farfromstrange · 1 month ago

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Fictober Day 4: Thigh Riding

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Thigh Riding (✨)

Summary: You ride Matt's thigh. That's it. That's the plot.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), thigh riding, dirty talk, use of "good girl", PWP

Word Count: 817

A/n: Today, you are getting a Drabble. I finally managed to write something a little shorter, but I did it mostly to challenge myself. I don't write Drabbles often, so this was fun to do, especially with that prompt. If you were hoping for something longer, I apologize, but thigh riding is one of the juiciest prompts for our Deranged Catholic Lawyer ever and I might use it again in the future.

[Smut right under the cut!]

Read Me On AO3!

The air is thick with sweat and despair. Every breath you take gets caught in your throat and turns into a wanton moan. It’s loud enough to bounce off the walls and spiral back to you.

You most certainly lost your mind a long time ago.

Matt has been so busy lately, never leaving a hopeless stone unturned until he has done everything he can to help those who can’t help themselves. It’s one of many things you love so much about it. You are so in love it sometimes makes you want to bash your head through drywall. And tonight, he has taken the night off from the streets of Hell’s Kitchen to take care of his girl. Because you need him, and he can’t say no when you need him. When he can smell the arousal soaking through your panties the moment he sets foot in the door.

The dinner you made was forgotten before you even had a chance to tell him what you made. Matt walked in, and the second his senses picked up on you in that tiny black dress, he pounced like a starving animal on the hunt.

Your bare cunt drags over the fabric of his clothed thigh as his nails bury themselves in the flesh around your hips. With every brush of your clit against the taunt muscle, a million fires reignite in your belly. You are weak to the smoldering heat of an inferno waiting to happen and level you to the ground.

“That’s it,” he grunts in your ear. “Just like that.”

There is nothing more ethereal to him than you when you are like this—mouth agape against his shoulder, biting the fabric of his dress shirt, and your heart beating through your chest into his. He can feel you in every crevice of his being, taste you on his tongue. When you’re this vulnerable for him, when you let your guard down to take the pleasure you deserve, you are the easiest to admire.

His words are far out of his control as they slip, injecting them right into your bloodstream like the most addictive drug on the market—and you are getting it all for free.

Good girl. Take what you need. Gonna make yourself come, hm?

Your eyes roll back into your head.

Gonna wear those pants to work tomorrow so I can smell you. Imagine what it’d be like to bend you over and fuck you ‘till all of New York knows my name. That what you want? Yeah, you do. That’s my girl.

To him, it sounds like gibberish, but with every syllable uttered, your heart starts beating faster. Your walls clench around nothing. Your lungs contract, and you cry his name into the void. That’s what he was looking for.

Matt drags his nose from behind your ear, down your throat. Your pulse jumps under his touch. He revels in the way you react to him, always. Like you have never been touched before.

“Mine,” he writes those words on your upper thigh as he says them, barely conscious yet precise with his fingertips. “You’re mine.”

The possessiveness he feels with you makes him crazy, but you are not so far behind him. He has long driven you into madness. You would use a hot iron and brand his name into your skin if it meant you could stay like this forever, with him.

“Yours,” you choke out between pants. Yours, and only yours. Though you’re not strong enough to say much more, not when it feels this good to ride those thick thighs of his.

His hand comes to rest around your neck. Air is a luxury, but with him, you don’t need it. You like it when your head gets fuzzy, and all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears as the noose of pleasure threatens to hang you.

He’s flexing his thigh and squeezing your neck, and the crescendo is building; you can’t outrun it. Your cunt continues to grind against him, so selfish, so needy, and you know you would give him anything if he just asked.

The light at the end of the tunnel is right there. Every drag feels like a punch to your gut, but a pleasurable one nonetheless. Not a second goes by when you’re not connected to him. And when you open your eyes and you see the look on Matt’s face, the way he’s taking you in, it’s more than enough to send you hurdling over the edge.

As always though, he is there to catch you as you fall.

“Shh,” he runs his hand through your hair, “I’ve got you. Breathe.”

You breathe him in. Your legs may be shaking, and you have lost all sense of time, but you are with the man you love, and nothing could ever make you quite as happy as he does.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

#matt murdock smut #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #pwp #drabble #lizzi's fictober 2024 #charlie cox

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crescenthistory · 23 days ago

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hear me out…b4 with paul <333

thanks for your request babe! this fit best as a silly drabble in my mind, enjoy<33

Prompt: B.4 “Kiss me again”

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: sparring, kissing, goofing

The blade whistles through the air, missing your cheek by a breath as you twist out of the way. You’re not fast enough to avoid the follow-up, though – Paul’s foot sweeps low, knocking you off balance. You hit the ground hard, air rushing from your lungs.

He is standing over you in an instant, poised and confident, dark curls falling over his forehead, eyes glittering with the quiet triumph he always tries to mask.

“Yield?” he asks, that edge of teasing already creeping into his voice. He extends a hand down to you, his stance relaxed, clearly feeling like he has already won. Typical.

“I’ll think about it,” you huff, reaching up as if you’re taking his hand. The second your fingers brush his, you tug, hard. He yelps in surprise as you yank him off his feet, using his own weight to pull him down.

He lands hard beside you, his expression startled for a split second before it melts into a grin. You don’t give him time to recover, rolling over to press the flat of your practice blade to his throat.

“Yield?” you echo, your smirk matching his earlier confidence.

Paul laughs, bright and unguarded, and it’s the kind of sound that makes your chest feel too tight. His shoulders shake beneath you, his amusement spilling out in waves, and for a moment, you forget about the training ground and the hours of drills. It’s just him, here, like this.

“Okay, okay, I yield.” His hands coming up in mock surrender. In his eyes, though, there is a dancing, teasing glint that should tell you he’s not done playing yet.

You lift the blade, relaxing your grip – and he strikes.

With a swift movement, Paul rolls you both over so you’re beneath him, pinning you to the ground. Before you can protest, he catches your wrists, holding them down with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. His body is warm above you, his breath still coming fast from the laughter.

“Can’t believe you fell for your own trick,” he murmurs, leaning in close, voice a low drawl meant to needle you.

Your lips twitch, torn between frustration and amusement. “Can’t believe you’re so insufferable.”

“I’ve been told.” He smirks, leaning in even closer, so close now that his breath ghosts over your skin. “But admit it. You love losing to me.”

He loves to push the limit with you, but you won't let him get away that easy.

“Oh, please.” You scoff, squirming under his grip. “I am so above that.”

You throw your hips up on the side of his, mind too focused on not losing to panic over your proximity, as you use your weight and sheer willpower to topple him over, ripping out of his grasp from the momentum.

Both opponents scramble to your feet, eyes trained on the other to catch any small movement. Despite yourself, a smile begins to tug at the corner of your mouth, relishing in the pure childish fun of it all.

Once Paul sees, he smiles himself, shaking his head slightly at your antics.

In the next moment you throw your body around and lunge, taking advantage of his slight distraction.

Your foot connects with Paul’s chest, and he stumbles back, laughing as he barely regains his balance. His grin grows lopsided, wild, as he twirls his blade in hand, trying to recover some dignity.

“Oh, don’t even think about it,” you warn as you see him shift his posture. You know him too well, his signalling, his tells – he’s about to pull one of his flashy moves, the kind that makes you roll your eyes but also secretly impresses you.

Paul cocks his head, increasingly infuriating smirk still on his lips. “Think about what? Winning?”

You narrow your eyes. “Trying and failing to, at least.”

Ignoring you, his foot sliding forward with practised ease, body twisting in ways it shouldn’t be able to, blade arcing toward you in a sweeping strike.

You sidestep him, just out of range, letting him stumble slightly past you.

“Really?” you tease, pressing in close before he can recover, mock blade at the ready. “Is this the same Paul Atreides that’s supposed to be great?”

“Oh, I’m saving my energy,” he quips, but his breath is coming faster, his shoulders rising and falling. “Just giving you a false sense of security.”

“Right,” you say, repressing an eye roll so you can keep your focus on him. “So, in this plan, I’m supposed to get overconfident and–”

Paul surges forward before you can finish, his blade coming at you in a quick, fluid strike. You barely manage to block it, relying on your reflexes as you twist and catch his wrist in your hand, using his momentum to throw him off balance. He stumbles, wide-eyed, and you spin, finally pressing him back against the smooth stone floor of the courtyard.

His back hits the ground with a soft thud, and you’re on him in an instant, straddling his waist, pinning him down. Your practice blade presses lightly to his throat, though your grin is what’s really sharp now.

“How did that work out, huh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Yield, or are we going to keep pretending?”

Paul’s breathing has quickened beneath you, but there’s still that mischievous glint in his eyes, even as he raises his hands in a final surrender. “Alright, alright,” he says, smiling. “You win this round.”

You can’t help the triumphant laugh that bursts from you. “Oh, don’t look so surprised.”

“I’m not,” he replies, his voice dropping an octave as he looks up at you, his eyes flicking to linger on your lips. “Not when you fight like that.”

Your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat. It’s all playful until it’s not.

Maybe if you weren’t full of endorphins from the fight and, more importantly, the win, you would have thought twice. Instead, you drop your knife in favour of his cheek and lean down to catch his lips with yours.

It’s short lived, seconds feeling like minutes when you’re this high, but when you pull back, Paul’s hands shoot up to secure you by your waist and neck so you can’t go far.

He whispers your name with a wild look in his eyes. When you meet that gaze, you realise what you did and what it meant.

Paul tilts his head up slightly, lips still brushing yours. “Kiss me again,” he murmurs.

For a second, you’re frozen, caught in the quiet intensity of his gaze. His voice i soft but insistent, and the teasing banter from a moment ago seems to have slipped away. The challenge remains, though.

“Paul…” you start, but whatever you were going to say fades as his hands tighten on your hips, urging you closer.

“You heard me,” he says, his tone lighter this time, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re going to deny the victor their spoils?”

You huff a laugh, shaking your head. “Pretty sure I’m the victor.”

When Paul rolls you over this time, it’s with lazy ease as you don’t feel the need to fight it. His hand falls from your face to hold him up, most of his weight being placed on his hips on yours.

“What about now?”

“Doesn’t change a thing, Atreides.”

Still, you give into him and tug on his hair to bring him back down into another searing kiss. What started as a playful gesture shifts into something deeper, something that makes you forget about the sparring match, about the training grounds, about everything except the feeling of Paul’s lips moving against yours. His hands slide up your sides, settling on your waist, and his fingers flex slightly, like he’s anchoring himself to the moment, to you.

When you pull back for air, your foreheads resting together, Paul is smiling – that rare, genuine smile that you only ever see when it’s just the two of you, away from all the expectations and responsibilities.

“You know,” he says, voice breathless but still tinged with humour, “you didn’t have to knock me flat to kiss me.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you sit back slightly, still straddling him. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides,” you add, raising an eyebrow, “if you wanted to kiss me so badly, you could’ve won.”

Paul laughs, full and bright, and you feel his body shake beneath yours. “Oh, I let you win.”

“Right,” you drawl, shifting to poke him in the chest with your finger. “Sure, sure. Go on and keep telling yourself that, future Duke.”

His grin softens, and he reaches up to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d rather be here.”

The way he says it so earnestly hits you somewhere deep, making your heart stutter in your chest. You swallow, your playful bravado slipping for a moment as you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with that same intensity, the one that makes you feel seen in a way that’s almost too much.

“Paul…” you start again, but he interrupts with a playful grin, his hands slipping to your waist again.

“Don’t go all serious on me now,” he teases, though there’s a gentleness to it, a way he’s pulling you back into the easy, playful rhythm you share. “You’ve still got me pinned. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

You laugh, shaking off the sudden tension. “You mean while you let it last?” Your tone imitates his.

“Exactly.”

“Well, if we pretend I’m in charge,” you say, leaning down again, your breath mingling with his, “then I say we take a break from all this training.”

Paul hums in agreement, his lips brushing yours again as he murmurs, “You always have the best ideas.”

“Now you admit it.”

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aethon-recs · 30 days ago

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This Week in Tomarrymort (4 – 10 October 2024)

Another week chock-full of updates! October is always such a rich and amazingly productive month in fandom, with such an explosion of new ideas and fics with the many prompt challenges going on. And a few more @tomarrybigbang fics as well!

As with last week, please feel free to add some extra context to your fic update in the reblog, like a little bit about the chapter(s) updated. For this format of weekly list, there’s no space to add a summary or extra info about the fics, so I’ll rely on the authors to share a bit more about their updates, if you’re so inclined! 🤍

A recap of the author notes from last week:

such unholy heaving by @cealesti (M, 10k, WIP) “A horror/suspense F/F Tomarry fic set in a D&D-inspired fantasy setting.” These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 28k, WIP) “GOVERNMENT WARNING: (1) According to the Surgeon General, Harry Potter should not drink alcoholic beverages while resurrecting Lord Voldemort because of the risk of...everything. (2) Consumption of alcoholic beverages impairs your ability to operate Deathly Hallows, and may cause, er, problems. Aka, Harry gets hammered and decides it's a great idea to drunk "text" (i.e., summon) Voldemort with the Stone. Voldemort isn't one to pass up an opportunity to exploit vulnerability for personal gain.” Do It Over by @thefangirlibrarian (T, 46k, WIP) “A depressed postwar Harry has taken Death's hand, reunited with the horcrux he mourned, and traveled into his own past Now he wakes up on the morning of his eleventh birthday, ready to do things differently this time. He has no grand plans, just the instinct to be close to the man whose soul he shares.” Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 18k, WIP) “A role reversal AU! In this latest chapter, Tom tells a scary story for Halloween to get Harry hot and bothered.” on line sex & rabbit stew by @izharmilgram (E, 3k, complete) “Includes time-travelling Professor Harry Potter, phone sex in the 1950s, horcrux shenanigans, parseltongue, Tom being sexually frustrated... fun stuff.” The Brief Fiery Plummets by @thefangirlibrarian (T, 1k, WIP) “A series of 100-word drabbles exploring different moments Harry might have woken up in after traveling back to the past in When the Weight is Gone.” forgive me father by @cindle-writes (E, 2k, complete) “A PWP one-shot where Tom sneaks into Harry's bed while he's sleeping and seduces him, featuring adoptive father Harry and shota boypussy Tom.”

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapter 15 (Completed) of Just Business by @holaolla1

One Shot | family friends by @reggieblk

One Shot | young lust by @xodahafez

One Shot | the precarity of virgin souls by @izharmilgram

One Shot | roughly, dry and painful by @2sidesofthesamesoul

One Shot | don’t wake me (i’m not dreaming) by @dreaming-in-the-dark

One Shot | The Sweetness of Your Tears by @v33r00

One Shot | sleeping with ghosts by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts

One Shot | Newly Forged by @obsidianpen

One Shot | bad guy by @circleofplanets

One Shot | nineteen (ever so priceless) by @midsummersins

One Shot | Consequences of Murder by @penrot

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 3 of friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight

Chapter 37 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 63 of Holly & Yew by @lovely-lotus

Chapter 7 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 15 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapter 1 of it’s hard being casual by sansaerys

Chapter 12 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 9 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 3 of a pound of flesh by @ictyn

Chapter 7 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapter 11 of Aphelion by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 36 of Seeing Sand by @valkyrie-chemist

Chapter 14 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3

Chapter 2 of Lunacy by @crowcrowcrowthing

Chapters 1 and 2 of What quickens me is the violence in thee by @i-dream-of-libraries

Chapter 1 of The Sacred Art Of Repression by @goldenzingy46

Chapter 2 of such unholy heaving by @cealesti

Chapters 5 through 7 of The Brief Fiery Plummets by @thefangirlibrarian

Chapter 4 of Fate's Coffin by @noxxytocin

Chapter 1 of Infinite by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 5 of i am anonymous, you are a concrete wall by Pensievable

Chapter 1 of Plague by @a-sentimental-man

Chapter 5 of Forbidden Darkness by @neurowriter14

Chapter 4 of Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89

Chapter 1 of the alchemy by @cindle-writes

Chapters 126 and 127 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 1 of despite everything, it's still you by @boromirsayshi

Chapter 8 of all you do is kill, love snakes, and lie by @soopsiedaisies

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #tomarrymort recs #aethon recs #tomarry recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #hp fic recs #harrymort recs #tomarry weekly #this week in tomarrymort

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marvelgotchaforgaza · 4 months ago

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Donating

$5 minimum donation to any verified gofundme (Gaza Funds is a good option to find them) or organization doing on the ground work in Gaza

you must submit screenshot proof along with two prompt options (only one will be filled)

prompts may be sfw or nsfw but not dead dove

piece might be a sketch or drabble or longer/more complex, it will be up to the creator

we will complete your prompt ASAP but please be patient! this is volunteer run!

you may donate/request multiple times but there must be a unique donation with each request

we are Marvel Comics exclusive! See here for similar initiatives in other fandoms!

SUBMIT YOUR DONATION PROOF HERE

Volunteering

you can take on between 1-4 prompts at a time

we are accepting volunteers for writing, art, and edits!

there is no minimum word amount or sketch size

we do not have deadlines currently but please communicate if you will be unable to complete a prompt for whatever reason

Our Creators!

There is currently no end date for this initiative! We are not affiliated with Marvel Comics, this is completely fan run!

#marvel #marvel comics #marvel 616 #avengers #x-men #defenders #alpha flight #thunderbolts #guardians of the galaxy #fantastic four #agents of atlas #champions #inhumans #gotcha for gaza #excelsiorfics

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redrose10 · 11 months ago

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🌹 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

Yoongi

Series

𝓒𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓷 & 𝓥𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪 (Completed)

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 The Proposal

Alternate Ending 1 (very angsty) Alternate Ending 2

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓮 𝓘𝓷𝓷 (Ongoing) (On hold)

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Part 1 Part 2

Raspberry Romances (Completed)

Summary: There’s no one on this planet you hate more than your coworker/secret crush Min Yoongi. He’s an arrogant, rude, womanizer who gets under your skin every single shift and you can’t wait for your day to be over so you can get away from him. Unfortunately when Jimin, your caseworker from The Ministry of Adoration, shows up offering you both a raspberry jam filled cookie, things take a surprising turn for the worst and you can no longer get away.

Chapter 1- Coffee and Cookies

Chapter 2- Whiskey and Wedding Cake

Chapter 3- Tea and Tteok-bokki

Chapter 4- Sparkling Cider & Strawberry Pie

Chapter 5- Tacos and Tangerine Juice

Cold Brewed Love (Completed)

Summary: When you begged the owner of Jin’s Java House to hire more employees you didn’t mean for him to stick you with the cold, rude, arrogant CEO Min Yoongi. Over time something begins to brew between you both and you end up forced to make decisions way above the pay grade of a cafe barista.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

One-Shots

He Knows

Promise

The Beanie Blues

Oblivious

I’d love too

24 Hours

Cuddle Noodle

Drabble Game

Jin- 1

Yoongi- 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Hobi- 1 2

Namjoon- 1 2

Jimin- 1

Picture Game

Everything Will Be Okay Nervously in Love (NSFW)

Pumpkin Spice Lattes Three Little Words

Even Zombies Need Love

Tulip Trees

A Growing Family

The Devil is Beautiful

Min F.cking Yoongi

Secrecy

Hair Tutorials

Kangaroo Vows

Prompt Game

Bonnie and Clyde

Fire & Ice

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #cinnamon&vanilla #jin #namjoon #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bts fic

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moonlight-prose · 11 months ago

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11 with Poe? 🥺 💞

𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

a/n: this prompt with poe is so soft and warm it's actually melting my heart. i'm a massive sucker for someone taking care of the person they love in such a simple way like this. it's short and more of a drabble, but i really enjoyed bringing some softness to this man. i always seem to put him in angsty situations, so he deserves this.

summary: "he was with you. the person he longed to be around. who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer."

word count: 1k+

pairing: poe dameron x reader

warnings: not explicit, soft poe, flirting, fluffiness, poe dameron being hopelessly head over heels.

Squinting against the bright light of the sun, you traversed your way through the field, trying to catch up to the group ahead. It was a simple mission. Head out to a planet, find whoever was willing to trade shitty x-wing parts for something far better, and get back before dinner. Really it was more a quick vacation than anything else—a chance to get away from the chaos that your lives had become.

Poe shifted, checking to see exactly where you both had ended up in the hour you’d been walking. It’s not that you were lost. You were simply exploring. Or at least…that’s how Poe put it. You however had been keeping track of the different paths you’d taken, making sure to mark on your map where exactly you had to backtrack to get where you needed.

He sighed for the tenth time, scrubbing a hand down his face, his brows pulling together with frustration. It was clear that getting back to base before dinner wasn’t a possibility. Which meant you would have to find a place here amidst the greenery and gorgeous landscape.

You didn’t mind the idea much. However you couldn’t necessarily say the same for Poe.

“So where exactly are we?” you asked, trying to comprehend the bits and pieces of the foreign language. Growing up in the galaxy meant you knew more than your fair share, but sometimes it was hard to learn it all.

“Who the fuck knows,” he muttered, turning to look at yet another green hill. It looked identical to the last five you passed.

“It’s getting late.”

He nodded. “Think we can make it back to the ship tonight?”

There was a possibility of that happening if you turned back now, but you could see the sun begin its descent into the horizon, the day coming quickly to a close. The planet was known for housing less than lethal life forms, which made the idea of camping outside that much more appealing. You slept in a tiny bunk back at the base. Barely enough room to stretch out your legs before you hit the wall beside you—the open space around you felt like a damn gift compared to that.

“We should find a closed off area,” you suggested, remembering the many times you were forced to sleep outside whilst on a mission.

“Lead the way.”

He traipsed along behind you, eyes stuck to your surroundings in case of danger, and you didn’t do anything to interfere. You understood he wouldn’t feel safe sleeping on an unknown planet unless he was sure nothing bad was to happen. If he was alone he wouldn’t take precautions. But that was the difference. You stood beside him, untarnished by the tragedy of war. Beautiful like the summer flowers his mother used to pick on Yavin 4.

“The map says it shouldn’t be that much father,” you said in the hopes that it would offer some reprieve from how disappointing this whole mission was.

“That’s fine,” he mumbled, catching a glimpse of how the sunset enshrouded your face, creating a glow across you that nearly punched the breath from his lungs.

If he were with anyone else on this mission he would have been irritated. Beyond that probably. He could have seen himself trying to contact Leia from where you were, asking for a transport back, but he wasn’t with anyone else. He was with you. The person he longed to be around. Who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. Rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer.

“I’m sorry about all this.” Poe felt his heart begin to sink, matching the movement of the sun. “I know it’s taking too much time. I swear I thought I read the map right.”

His pace faltered until he found himself stopping altogether, hand reaching for your arm to turn you. “Why are you apologizing?”

You sighed. “I just…I know how irritating all of this can be.”

“Sunshine—”

“And I know you have other important things to do for the Resistance.” You turned, running a hand across your forehead. “I could have asked Finn to come with me instead. Or anyone else. But I…I like…”

Poe stepped forward so quickly his boot nearly got caught on a small hole in the ground. “You like?”

Another long breath left you, eyes shifting up to finally catch him in your gaze. “I like your company.”

He felt the start of a smirk and tried to tamp it down, but there was no use. “My company huh?”

“Don’t get cocky flyboy. You’re not the worst person to be around.”

He was way past cocky at that point. Your words filled him with a warmth that sent his heart racing so hard it nearly stopped altogether. But you looked nervous. As if the words had been bottled up for so long you felt wary about heaven bringing them out into the open. You were unprepared for his smile, for his hand to reach out and pick a piece of grass out of your hair, only to use that to drag you even closer.

“I know I’m not,” he said softly, grunting when you lightly punched him in the chest. “Just been waiting for you to say it out loud.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass—” Tugging yourself away, you were ready to throw another meaningless curse at him, but Poe had solidified his plans long before you began to admit your feelings.

His lips caught yours in a kiss, effectively silencing you and stopping your movements. You felt a rush of dizziness go up to your head, a soft sound of contentment falling from your mouth into his. And Poe felt his entire being light up. Pulling you closer, he clutched at you tightly, hands sliding to your back and breath washing across your face.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” he breathed against your cheek, nose nudging against yours—waiting eagerly for you to smile and pulling him back into a searing kiss he longed to drown in.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron #star wars fic #my writing #in love with love weekend🌷

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