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saerins · 1 year ago

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𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.1k | content: fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of jealousy/insecurities

notes: of course when i’m back i write for sae … who else is possible of holding me hostage like this ? :’)

summary: he’s stupid and stubborn and bad at being a boyfriend. you make him want to be better though. always.

itoshi sae has a bad habit.

he’s not used to relationships, or the notion of having to care for someone in a certain romantic way that tests his own boundaries. this much is apparent in the way he’s only ever had one relationship before you and it was over before he started, because he’d chosen career over his ex.

and no, the situation right now with you isn’t like that. even so, it’s tough; when you feel down for no particular reason and sae doesn’t know how to handle it. and sometimes he’s tired too and you catch him at the wrong timing and you both end up sulking the entire night.

you won’t lie—you have a bad habit too. you can’t really bring yourself to express exactly how you feel. it’s difficult to open up just like that, especially when you aren’t used to it. but sae’s especially confused with how to handle these situations, like right now.

right now; when you’re sobbing in front of him and he’s feeling frustrated. when you can’t really handle the heat well—he’s a world-renowned soccer player, one of the world eleven. and next to him, no one even knows you. not when you have a non-disclosure agreement and have to keep everything super private.

it’s funny how you thought it’d be simple. then again, you didn’t factor in all the external disturbances. it tests your patience whenever sae makes the headlines when he’s out for a simple lunch with friends and makes it to the front page with a dating rumor with a top model. it’s tough for you to hold it in when you see people shipping him with someone you can only wish to be.

insecurity just hits you sometimes.

“is it really that hard to just assure me, sae?”

that includes now, when you’ve just had a shitty day and he’s so so tired from all the events he’s had to go to now, having to parade around with that top model, all to promote a brand’s upcoming fragrance line. emotions run high, neither of you have the capacity to deal with this right now.

“look, i’m so fucking tired, can we just deal with this in the morning?”

some pessimistic part of you is telling you he’ll just brush it off in the morning—all the jealousy, the frustration. you don’t even think you can last staying mad at him for that long.

“what’s the problem with talking about it now?”

“i don’t want to talk about it now, could you just let it go for the night?”

both of your voices get higher and higher, just a hair’s breadth away from actual shouting. that’s when sae reels himself in, averting his gaze.

and there goes sae’s bad habit; grabbing his keys and walking out of your shared apartment, no umbrella even though it’s raining outside and he’ll get soaked just trying to walk to the car.

you can’t find it in yourself to tell him to stay safe because you’re all out of energy tonight. everything has been sucked dry into your anxiety, and you’re spent. now what can you even do besides curl up on the couch, wondering if you’re too much?

when your phone lights up, you catch the wallpaper—a picture of sae looking off camera while he presses a kiss on your head.

it just makes you feel worse.

he’s tired. his efforts are spent. on soccer, not you. but still. it’s exhausting. couldn’t you have just waited for a few more fucking hours?

he’s tired. so fucking tired.

“hey.”

it’s a lame greeting, but that’s all he can manage right now. shidou’s in his doorway, a cock in his brow and a very annoyed look on his face.

“oi, i got a girl here—”

“don’t care, i’ll just crash on the couch,” sae cuts him off, trudging through the door and settling himself on the leather black couch, the familiarity sinking in. he used to live here with shidou before he got together with you after all.

shidou mumbles something like suit yourself before he leaves his old roommate be, mulling over the remains of his relationship with you.

sae opens his phone, the picture of you at the beach that he snapped glaring at him in this dim light. he swallows the lump in his throat—he doesn’t know how to feel. part of him knows that you feel like shit each time he does this; you’ve made it known over at least three different occasions now. but his head’s throbbing way too much and his muscles are way too sore and all he really wanted was just to come home to you, to the peacefulness he always loves.

is he really the asshole here?

a notification pops up on his phone an hour later. sae’s first train of thought is to wonder if it’s you. but it’s nothing important. it’s just oliver going over the next training’s details. the same old thing. but then sae looks up at the date and he curses inwardly.

it’s your second year anniversary. two years since you’d dated this fickle, troublesome guy.

sae’s head ducks between his palms, elbows resting on his thighs, as he considers the weight of his words.

this morning he woke up without even so much as a greeting for you; all he knew was he’d be late for practice if he didn’t leave in exactly five minutes. he’d rushed out the door and only responded to your morning greeting with a grunt. sae didn’t spare you any time for the rest of the day either, when you’d attempted to ask him out for dinner. he left you on read before ultimately tossing his phone to the side. when he came back home you’d given him a kiss and he barely reacted, too tired to give you anything even when you showed him the big dinner spread you’d cooked.

now he’s here—in an apartment at the other end of the city that’s no longer his while he left you alone in your shared apartment, leaving the argument unresolved and letting you stew in your own thoughts.

sae lets the time fly right by, staring at the ceiling while he contemplates everything. but the answer is plain and simple to him: you.

he’s tired and he’s hopelessly invested in soccer and he shouldn’t have time for anything else in his life but he wants you. he doesn’t know nearly half the right things to do in whatever situations, but the thought that he could really possibly lose you this time is enough to overwhelm him—sae grabs his car keys and leaves just as shidou and his girl leaves the room.

“oi, made up already?” he shouts after him through his front door.

sae rolls his eyes and ignores him; all he needed was some time to himself anyway. he’s glad shidou wasn’t there to poison his head with anything (or more like, he wasn’t there to convince him to drink his guts off).

ten minutes later he’s in his car and speeding back to the apartment, back to you. because no, it’s not too hard for him to assure you—it’s what he should have done. just because he’s used to being the center of dating rumours doesn’t mean you are. just because he knows it’s nothing doesn’t mean you don’t get insecure because of them.

after all, he remembers what he told you that night he asked you to be his. that he’ll make sure you’re happy. being happy all the time isn’t realistic, but at the very least, sae should’ve known better than to keep leaving you alone with your thoughts.

he speeds through the familiar city roads, however fast he’s going just doesn’t seem fast enough. but he still makes it safely back to your shared apartment within twenty minutes, and hopefully still fast enough to make sure you’re not completely disappointed in him.

it’s still raining and the living room lights are still on and he can faintly make out where you’re pacing the room through the blinds. sae feels like a creep staring at you from his car, but his heart’s pounding loudly in his ears and he can’t help but think he’s seen that sleek black car parked next to his somewhere before.

keys out the ignition, rain pattering lightly on his head, he gets out only to meet who he knows has been there for you since day one.

“done running already?” the hostility of your best friend irks him, but he can’t say he didn’t earn it. “that’s faster than i thought.”

“reo.”

your visitor rakes his hand through his purple hair, sighing and rolling his eyes. thanks to sae’s busy schedule, he hasn’t really had time to hang out with any of your friends, and probably hence their usual animosity towards him. though, well, nagi seems to be more indifferent than anything.

“if you’re here to break up with her, don’t worry, i’ll take care of her,” reo tells him, an air of indifference surrounding him. three guesses who you go to whenever you feel upset about your relationship.

sae clenches his fists, reminding himself that reo’s your best friend and punching him would do more harm than good. “i won’t,” is all sae says before he pushes past him, already done with whatever this conversation is.

reo scoffs, “for a guy who loves her, you do a shit job of showing it.”

and although sae shuts the lobby doors right after, reo’s words stay ingrained in his head. it’s not like sae doesn’t know it, but fuck if he knows what to do about it. but when he opens the front door and is greeted by the sight of your red puffy eyes, he forgets everything. forgets the frustration and the anger and the stupid excuses in his head—they’re all secondary when it comes to you anyway.

his feet take him straight to you, pulling you against his chest and holding you tight.

“i’m sorry,” he says, and that’s the easiest it’s ever come out.

from your lack of response, sae finds himself hoping for the best, hoping that he didn’t just lose you because of his stupid impulses. but then he feels your arms wrap around his waist and he hears himself breathing a sigh of relief.

“you’re an ass, you know that?” you sniffle, and it’s kind of hard to breathe when he’s pressing against you that much but you’re more relieved than anything that you don’t really care.

sae chuckles, weakly, the tension leaving his shoulders. “i know.” he can feel you pouting without even having to look at you.

“i should really leave you,” you whine, though your actions betray your words, holding him even tighter.

“then why do you put up with me?” it’s a funny thing, how he can be afraid to lose you yet he can tell that you’re not someone who gives up so easily.

that’s exactly why he has to prove that you didn’t choose the wrong person to be with.

“i guess i’m just stupid too.”

you’re not. sae’s going to make sure no one else thinks you’re stupid for staying with him. it’s enough having your best friend think that, but that’s fine, sae’ll prove him wrong soon enough. it sucks that he’s only good for soccer, but at the rate you’re going? you’ll teach him how to be a good boyfriend. he’s two years in and learning slowly but he’ll get there.

you’re the only one who can get him there.

“no,” sae says, all of a sudden, and you pull away, confused.

“no what?”

“what you asked earlier… it isn’t too hard. i’ll work on it.”

oh, must be right before he left, when you’d asked if it was hard for him to just assure you sometimes. to be honest, you didn’t think he’d even listened. but sae is sae and he’s stubborn and stupid and a little bit of an ass, but he still listens to everything you say.

you try not to break out into a smile—you don’t want to show him how whipped you really are. “i’ll hold you to your word, then.”

sae smiles, ruffling the top of your head before slowly pulling you in again. “so… don’t leave me, okay?”

it sinks in what he’s saying. you didn’t think you’d ever hear sae say those kinds of words. but it’s unfair, really, because how can you say no when he’s like this?

“you already know i won’t.”

and somehow, you’re right. sae knows you won’t. doesn’t mean he’ll get caught lacking though.

“good then.”

because he plans on keeping you forever.

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #bllk x you #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #bllk x y/n #bllk fluff #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #sae itoshi fluff #blue lock x reader #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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daisynik7 · 11 months ago

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and if I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love

You squint your eyes at the pink neon sign flickering against the fake moss tapestry to the left of the bar. A young couple poses in front of it, smiling at their mutual friend who holds the phone to take a picture. Beautiful, radiant, charming. All while you sit on the barstool, hunched over the half-empty cocktail that you swirl in your grip, relishing the condensation on the rim of the glass. With your straw, you stab at the maraschino cherry floating around in there, popping it into your mouth. The sweetness cuts through the bitter liquor, or loneliness, lingering on your tongue and you think that maybe tonight isn’t so bad, despite your sulking.

It's another happy hour, courtesy of your boss. Everyone on your team is here, who you genuinely get along with, no problem. But there’s one person missing, the one person you want to see the most. Nanami is the only one to decline tonight’s invitation to the new trendy bar downtown. During your lunch together, you don’t ask why. You don’t want him to suspect that you’re devastated by his decision, which you are. So, you talk about how much you’re craving cake instead, changing the topic all together, hoping he doesn’t catch the hint of sadness in your tone.

Ever since he walked you home in the rain the other week, protected under his umbrella, there’s been this obvious vibe between you. Still, it could all be wishful thinking on your end. You never did get around to confessing your true feelings for him; you’d rather enjoy what you have as it is. Why ruin something good? There’s the hope that maybe things could be even better if you take this leap of faith. But it’s always terrifying taking the plunge, isn’t it? Especially when you don’t know if you’ll sink or swim.

It was by the fourth cocktail that you decided to leave your group gathered around the back table. That’s why you’re here now, sulking between strangers at the bar, chewing on your tiny straw until it’s gnarled on one end. Your friends on the team know the real reason, trying to dismiss all the jokes from your more annoying coworkers about how you must be missing your “work husband”. Even they’re shipping the two of you together. If only you knew what Nanami truly thinks about all this. About you.

To your complete shock, it doesn’t take you long to find out. Still in his work attire, Nanami walks through the front door, hair swept beautifully as always. As soon as his eyes find yours, he smiles, making his way to you. It’s only when he approaches you that you notice a small box in his hands. “Good. You’re still here,” he says, smile growing wider.

You blink at him several times, as if you’re not seeing him clearly.

“Can you come with me? I have something for you.” His voice is trembling slightly, excited.

You nod, still rendered speechless, wobbly as you follow him outside. When you’re alone in front of the establishment, the voices of those inside muffled and distant, you stare down at your shoes, anticipating what’s about to happen. He holds the box out to you, opening the cover slowly, revealing a personalized cake decorated beautifully with your name written in neat frosting on the top.

You meet his gaze, putting your hand to your mouth, hiding a gasp. “Nanami.”

“I made this for you. Because of what we talked about today.” He swallows hard, taking a step towards to you. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now. I…” He trails off, nervous, scared, uncertain. Just like you.

This time, you follow through with what you’ve been wanting to do since that rainy night not too long ago. You close the distance, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Sparks fly and whatever buzz you have from the alcohol is replaced with this electricity. “Me too.”

Author's Note: A continuation of this. Yet another coworker!Nanami drabble inspired by a song that’s making me feel all sappy and soft. 🩶 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #coworker!nanami #jjk fluff

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gay-dorito-dust · 10 months ago

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Running Jason a warm bath after a long night and washing his hair for him 😩

Just taking care of my babygirl, as god intended 🤣 and I didn’t know how to end this one cuz I suck at endings amongst other things. 🦦

‘You know you didn’t have to do all this for me sweetheart, I can run my own bath.’ Jason said upon entering the bathroom with a tired smile.

‘Yes I am very aware of that, but as your partner I should be allowed to take care of you once in a while, especially considering how reliant you’re being on that there doorframe for the past five minutes.’ You pointed out to him, smiling upon seeing him try to alter his stance but it was already too late. You knew that tonight’s patrol was a rough one from the look of exhaustion upon Jason’s face, right down to the sound of his voice and mentally thanked yourself for running that bath beforehand as you dipped a hand in the water to make sure that it was still the perfect temperature; humming in satisfaction when it was.

‘It wasn’t that bad.’ Jason defended and when you looked over at him with an expression that told him that you didn’t quite buy into that excuse, he truly believed in that moment that you could see right through him as he sighs. ‘Okay it was bad but-‘

‘No buts, strip and get in the bath.’ Your demand cuts him off as you pointed towards the bathtub and yet despite being worn out, Jason still found it in himself to want to tease you a little. By raising both brows and as a smirk blossomed across his lips he innocently asks. ‘What, no foreplay? Didn’t know this was going to be one of those nights, sweetheart. Though then again I know that seeing me shirtless is your weakness.’ You playfully smacked his arm, trying your hardest not to give him the satisfaction of being right as he swiftly removed the top layer of his clothing before getting to work on the bottom half.

‘Don’t flatter yourself Jaybirdie.’ You replied, moving your gaze elsewhere in the bathroom as the sound of clothes hitting the floor reached your ears until that sound was replaced by bare feet walking towards the bathtub, only to stop once behind you as you felt Jason’s figure looming over you, his breath fanning the back of your neck. ‘Don’t need to when you already do that in the first place.’ He whispered in your ear cheekily before kissing your temple.

‘Just get in the bath dummy.’ You said softly and Jason laughs but does as you ask.

God you hated that man so much for being a pain in your ass sometimes and yet you love him even more for it also.

‘Aren’t you going to join me babe? There’s enough room for two.’ Jason says as he allows himself to become relaxed in the warm, slightly lavender scented water, looking as though he was going to fall asleep right then and there with how hard he fought to keep his eyes open. ‘While the offer is tempting, I’m gonna have to pass.’ You knelt beside the bathtub and began to wet his hair, careening your fingers through it in the process, hearing him groan. ‘I want this to be all about you. My beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.’ You add as you reached for the bottled shampoo, lathering a generous amount into your hands before working it into his hair, deeply massaging his scalp.

Jason groans again, pressing his head further against your hands, practically melting under your touch and looking as though he had finally touched heaven. ‘Does it feel good?’ You asked him as you moved your hands to focus on areas you haven’t gotten to yet, intentionally slowing down the pace you’ve set for yourself so that could live in this moment for a little while longer. ‘Feels so good babe.’ Jason purrs, his body having now leant up against the side of the bathtub closest to you. ‘You’re doing such a good job taking care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without you on most days.’

‘You’ll never have to because you’re stuck with me until you grow sick of me big guy.’ You told him and once you were confident that you hadn’t missed a anything, you then began to wash the shampoo out of Jason’s hair, running your fingers through it for shampoo suds you might’ve missed otherwise. ‘I could never get sick of you sweetheart.’ Jason admits, keeping his eyes firmly shut so that no shampoo manages to get into his eyes. ‘If anything I find more things to love you for, things like running me a bath and washing my hair like you are right now.’ He chuckles as he reaches up to grab one of your hands once you were done, kissing the back of it and looking you in the eyes as you instinctively go to cup his cheek.

‘Who’d knew Jason Todd was such a sap.’ You teased, pressing a kiss to his nose and letting out a little surprise squeal when he playfully bit your bottom lip before pulling away.

‘Only for you chipmunk.’ Jason replied. ‘Only for you.’

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #dc fic

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6okuto · 11 months ago

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EASY SWEETNESS

itadori x gn!reader | insecure reader (about your laugh and... what you look like from an angle below? he's lying on your chest and you won't look down at him)

itadori’s a sweetheart without really trying.

maybe it’s just another one of his talents, you wonder—his way of making your heart skip a beat. compliments, gifts, how, with his back turned, his hand could find yours solely from the sound of your voice. it seemed to be as ingrained in him as the raw strength he held, or the recipe to his favourite late night noodles that he made every week; practiced yet somehow innate.

“you’re such a sweet talker, yuuji,” you deflected his compliment once (you had said something about not liking your laugh, and he had called it sweet instead, because there was no bad laugh, especially yours that he always wanted to hear), warmth tingling your face and ears.

“huh?” he tilted his head. “well, i guess so…wait, no? yes? it’s just the truth, though. is it sweet talking if it’s just being honest?”

you can’t help yourself from thinking back to that as he rests on top of you, favourite throw blanket covering the both of you and tucked beneath your feet so you wouldn’t get cold, and a movie you’ve both watched a dozen times plays on the television screen.

it was a comedy—one that yuuji happened to play in the background as he studied but, inevitably, distracted him from it. he told you it stuck with him, and it’s found its way back to viewership every few months when he feels like unwinding.

it was really only a matter of time before you took part too.

you’ve both got lines memorized from the words down to the pace they’re said, even the cut-offs by other characters and the noises playing in the background. you feel the rumble before you hear yuuji’s voice, smushed like his face against your chest, as he acts out the scene.

“hey, you think at some point we’ll have the whole movie memorized?” he asks, moving to look up at you with his chin resting against you.

and the thing about someone resting on your chest is that you have to look down when you speak, and the problem with that is that the angle isn’t all that flattering.

so you smile, eyes fixed on the screen yet not following a single word being said as you become aware of the angle of your head, and what you look like from a few inches away. “maybe. that’d take at least a few more dozen watches though, unless we’re talking active memorization.”

“then what about with active memorization?”

“hm…for you? i’d still say at least a dozen. movies are really long you know?”

“and you?”

“probably the same? like, if it’s just us two, that’s a lot of lines, and i don’t think megumi would be ecstatic to join. nobara, maybe.”

a character begins to yell at another as your fingers come to card through yuuji’s hair—yuuji, whose response seems to be silence until—“babe.”

“hm?”

“why won’t you look at me?”

you snort, fingers pausing so you can gently mess with his hair instead. “i look bad from that angle, yuu.”

and you hope, maybe, he’ll leave it there, move back to the memorization idea, pick the characters he’d act out best. it really isn’t a favourable angle for anyone, so maybe he won’t look much further into the way your lips form a tight smile, or the forced breathy laugh at whatever’s just happened on screen.

“no you don’t,” he says matter-of-factly.

“...yuuji, really—”

“i think you look nice from every angle.” yuuji rests his cheek against you again. and you let your eyes flicker down, just once, just to see him grin as soon as your gazes connect. “i like looking at you from anywhere, but especially here.”

you shoot him a look of disbelief. “that’s your favourite spot to look at me from?”

“well.” he shifts his legs and kicks the blanket a little, untucking it from beneath you. “any spot that’s super close is nice so i can really see you, and do this—”

yuuji grunts a little as he moves up to kiss your cheek, hands finding home beside your head—you can feel him grinning even before he’s moved away to look at you.

“and you say you aren’t a sweet talker,” you murmur, face warm and housing a stupidly lovesick grin.

“hey.” he pouts. “i’m telling you i’m not a sweet talker, it’s just the truth as your boyfriend.”

“sweet talker.”

“i’m sweet and a talker. not a sweet talker.”

“okay, sweetie.” you try to joke and scrunch your nose, the pet name awkward and foreign on your tongue, but yuuji only smiles again in response.

“yeah, that works too. should we start calling each other sweetie now? i think it kind of fits.”

“yuuji—”and you’re convinced he has a talent now, because even as he exaggerates the new term with a sickeningly sweet voice, it manages to roll off his tongue as naturally as every other compliment he’s said to the point that you think maybe you wouldn’t mind him using it—“yeah, sweetie?”

i'm gonna be so fr sweetness looks like a silly word to me rn. specfically when all capitalized...SWEETNESS... girl what is that

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #itadori fluff #didnt proofread im rawdogging this be kind to me

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turcott3 · 2 months ago

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nothing matters but you

kirby dach x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, mentions of blood, fluff

masterlist

you sat on your couch watching your long term boyfriend’s preseason game on the couch of your shared apartment. you were happier than ever to see him back out on the ice.

“no no what the fuck.” you gasp, seeing the hit laid on him, hitting the ice hard, and slow to get up.

your heart began to race, thumping harshly in your chest.

“no no no no, no this can’t be.” you repeat, watching the replay of the hit.

“mother fucker,” you scoff, the guy only receiving a 2 minute minor penalty as kirby is helped off the ice and into the locker room.

it’s like last season all over again. the worst deja vu you could ever ask for. you sat and watched your phone waiting for it to ring, surprisingly only lighting up with a text from your mother.

maybe it’s not bad, he would only call you if it it was bad, right?

your knee bounced up and down rapidly, waiting for intermission to be over.

“come on kirbs, please be okay.” you groan, the period about to start. as the break ended, the camera shows your boyfriend on the ice with his teammates, a huge sigh of relief exhaling from your mouth. soon after it started, he scored, looking as proud as ever, even being a little physical, further proving he was feeling better.

not that you wanted him to continue playing after that hit.

when the game was close to a close, he tossed the gloves with the man that laid a hit on him in the first period, pounding him with right hooks as he drug him to the ground, being escorted off to the locker room.

you could hardly wait for him to come home, your knee continuing to bounce until you heard the front door open. you shot up off the couch once you heard the lock turn, anxiously waiting for him to round the corner, a stern look on his face.

“hi baby.” you coo, signaling for him to come over to you, opening your arms, wrapping them around the back of his neck as he hugged you warmly.

“hi.” he replies, his voice muffled by your hair.

“you watch the game?” he asks lowly, pulling away, hands placed lightly on your waist still.

“of course i did, i wouldn’t miss it. how are you feeling? i’m worried about you.” you frown, combing his hair out of his eyes.

“i feel okay. the hit really shook me up, i was so scared.” he says.

“i know honey, i could tell.” you reply with a frown, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you hugged back onto him.

“i just didn’t want to have to deal with a concussion again, especially since im just now healthy.”

“yeah, i understand.” you reply.

“it did feel nice to whoop his ass though.” he giggles lightly.

“oh im sure, its been a while since you’ve done that.”

“no kidding, i just have a pounding headache and my knuckles are a little bloody. and i guess my lip too.” he replies.

“let’s get you all cleaned up and grab you some ibuprofen, sound good?” you offer, him taking your face lightly into his hands.

“sounds perfect my love, thank you.” he smiles, pressing a short kiss to your forehead before he followed you into the bathroom, shutting the toilet lid and sitting on top of it.

“you looked really fucking hot and badass out there you know?” you giggle, pressing cotton balls lightly soaked in alcohol to his cuts, which he hissed in response to before you pressed a short kiss to each and every cut and bruise on the boy. his smile growing with every kiss.

“well it was just for you.” he teases, rounding his arms behind your thighs and pulling you closer between his legs, the smile on your face growing wider.

“well i’m a real lucky girl.” you reply, egging him on.

“no, i’m the lucky one. don’t get it twisted.” he giggles, squeezing the back of your thighs with his hands as he smiled up at you, leaning down for a sweet kiss.

“all better?” you ask, pulling away.

“all better.” he smiles contently, picking you up off the ground as he stood up, startling you, dropping the cotton balls on the counter as he carried you to the bed, tossing you onto it.

“kirby hey, don’t throw me.” you giggle, tucking yourself under the covers.

“well you didn’t say that last night did you?” he winks, you rolling your eyes in response.

“whatever. just get in bed, and here take these for your headache.” you say grabbing the pills from your nightstand and handing them over to him.

“thank you baby.” he replies, leaning over and kissing you again before taking them, and climbing into bed with you, opening his arms for you to lay tucked up in his side, your head resting on his chest as he twirled your soft hair between his fingers in a comfortable silence.

“you really did do amazing tonight kirbs, that goal was amazing, i’m so fucking proud of you, and how far you’ve come. you’re incredible. i wish i could’ve been there” you say, your thumb lightly running back and forth over his bare chest.

“thank you sweet girl. that means a lot to me. and i wish you were to but it’s okay, i was pissed i don’t think you want to see that.” he giggles lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

“you think you would’ve scared me off?”

“well, maybe?”

“nothing you could ever do would scare me off kirby, i love you, you know that.”

“and i love you, i would just hate for you to see that side of me in real time.”

“i can handle it no matter what, because you’re still mine and i’ll always support you m’love.” you say quietly.

“thank you baby, not sure how i got lucky landing you but im so glad i did.” he replies, pressing a handful of soft kisses to your lips before the both of you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, wrapped up in each other just like every night, not a thing ever changing between the two of you.

just pure love.

#kirby dach #kirby dach x reader #kirby dach imagine #kirby dach fluff #nhl #nhl imagine #go habs go #montreal canadiens #turcs’ talk

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callsign-rogueone · 7 months ago

Text

intimacy alphabet - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x reader words: 1.9k (oops.) 🏷: NSFW. all of it. afab reader, but no pronouns or gendered nicknames used. mentions of penetrative sex, oral, soft d/s dynamics, the usual stuff. I plan to do one of these for each of our boys eventually, but feel free to send a message if you want a specific one prioritized! this is a sexy democracy, after all.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

sleepy cuddlebug. half the time he manages to get you guys out of bed and into the shower, then proper PJs and brushing teeth etc., but the other half, you’re just curling up in each other’s arms and knocking out then and there — you’ll shower in the morning. and he might suggest that you shower together… something about saving time and water… totally not just so he can see you naked again.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes his hair, the thick, fluffy curls and the way they contrast his skin nicely. and his arms. he may not be as jacked as his friends, but he’s got some nice strength and definition there that he worked quite hard for.

and don’t get me wrong, he loves every single part of you — but your chest. if you wear a low-cut or tight-fitting top, he’s gonna be staring. he just can’t help it. loves playing with your nipples, sucking on them and leaving hickies on your chest and collarbones.

also loves resting his head over your heart while you cuddle and having you play with his hair, especially if you were in charge that night; it just feels so soft and safe and warm… he’s also the type of guy to like to fall asleep with a handful of boob, not even in a sexual way, just as a comfort thing.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

says he has no strong preference on where he does it — but really likes to cum on your chest. not afraid to get messy, but he’s a good guy, so he’ll be the one to clean it up and/or wash your sheets for you later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’s pretty open with you about what he wants and doesn’t really hide anything, especially now that you’re in a committed relationship. but before said relationship, he definitely didn’t think of you when jacking off in the shower, and most certainly did not gasp out your name when he finished. yeah, that was the tipping point for him, when he realized just precisely how bad he had it for you and decided to finally do something about it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

before you started dating, he had little to no experience. you figured things out together, and now he knows what he’s doing and what feels good, but it’s still fun for y’all to explore and find out new things about yourselves.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

loves you on top / riding him. that way he can see your pretty face and kiss you and hold your waist / hips, watch your chest bounce while you take him nice and deep… lots of perks to this position (for him, at least. but he’ll offer to take over if you get too tired.)

also fond of anything where you’re super close together, chest to chest or side by side — he wants to be as close to you as he can, always.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

always down for a giggle in the moment. he loves hearing you laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he’s doing some maintenance on a regular basis. doesn’t have much body hair, other than the loveliest little trail from his navel down…

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

oh, he can be so soft and sweet and romantic… we’ve collectively accepted that Bo is a total sweetheart, and would be so gentle and respectful and loving with you, especially your first time (which is on my very long list of smut ideas lol)

but yes. kisses everywhere, lots of murmured praise and affirmations, soft touches… that’s just the default for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

see letter D.

in the beginning of your relationship, he was handling matters himself more often because he didn’t want to scare you off by propositioning you all the time -- a slight breeze can get this guy going. but now that you’re comfortable with each other, he’s usually doing things with you instead.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

not quite a kink, but he really likes overstimulation. if he’s fucking you and he cums before you do, he’s not stopping. he’ll push through the sensitivity to get you there too. he likes overstimulating you, too (remember what I said about spending hours between your legs?) but sometimes it’s not even on purpose; he just gets lost in the sauce and doesn’t want to stop -- you have to pull him off of you by the hair. coincidentally, that’s also how you found out that he likes having his hair pulled.

he also loves when you take charge, focusing on yourself while you ride him / grind on his thigh / sit on his face… he wants to make you feel good, but he also finds it really hot when you take charge of your own pleasure.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

your room, his, the showers… he won’t try much else when you’re at the school or at Riorson house (too many people around). but if you ever get a house of your own, you’ll be christening every room. and probably every piece of furniture, too.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

all the standard stuff: seeing you undressed, seeing you dressed up or wearing anything revealing, you touching him a little too much (especially touching his chest or waist), when you use that soft, teasing tone of voice. and honestly, if you initiate things / say you want to, he’s ready to go --he’ll almost never decline that opportunity, and it’s a confidence boost to him: he wants to be wanted.

also, you being possessive and protective of him — I have a scene written where Darling threatens someone at knife-point for hurting him and he’s just like 😍😍

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

does not want to do any sort of degradation or name-calling. again, he’s a sweetheart, and he wants you both to feel loved and respected 24/7, even when he’s railing you or you’re edging him or whatever. it’s just not his thing. nope. not happening.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he can and will spend hours with his head between your thighs. sometimes he’ll just ask you out of the blue if he can eat you out — you can keep reading or doing whatever you’re doing, he just wants to lick your pussy while you do it. though you never stay focused for long, not when it feels that good.

and he loves it when you go down on him. the boy just cannot shut the fuck up when your mouth is on him, babbling praise and swearing and making the prettiest little sounds. he would love it if you swallowed, but again, he’s happy to finish anywhere.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?

he can be slow and romantic when the time is right. he gets faster/rougher when he’s desperate, when he needs you so bad that he can’t hold it back anymore (often after you’ve been teasing him all day.) but it’s usually a good medium pace.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves them. this boy is ready to go at the snap of your fingers. he’s absolutely down to spend the spare half an hour you have between classes fucking you. however, comma, you always underestimate how long things will take and you’re definitely going to be late, so you might as well skip class entirely, right?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

you’ve done a fair amount of experimenting thus far in your relationship, and are content with your usual routine now. anything new is always prefaced with a conversation about it / asking if it’s okay before you do it in the moment.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go a good two, maybe three before he’s tapping out, but preparing for war is exhausting, so you usually aren’t going much farther than that anyway. and of course, he’s giving you loving check-ins and water breaks etc. between rounds, especially if things are getting rough.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I can’t decide if he’d like to handcuff you / tie your wrists or not. that way he could really take his time with you and make you sit still while he plays with that pretty body of yours that he loves so much, but then you can’t touch him, and he really likes you touching him… hm.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

proper foreplay is definitely happening nine times out of ten (the tenth being a very quick quickie), but he doesn’t like to draw things out too long, because that means he has to wait as well, and he’s too impatient for that. you’re direct with each other about what you want in the moment.

however, it’s very fun to tease him all day and get him riled up because he’s just so fucking cute when he’s needy, and he’s not afraid to beg, either. but if you take the teasing too far, there may be consequences…

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not necessarily loud, but definitely vocal. he’s not afraid to moan and whimper and whine, especially when you’re in charge for the night. but even when he’s the one doing the work, he’s still panting and giving you praise, etc. very nice to listen to. also not afraid to make noise when he’s going down on you, humming and moaning at the taste. a bit of a messy eater, too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he loves it when you mark him up -- hickies, scratches from your nails… this ties into that love of you being possessive of him. he doesn’t even try to cover it up, wearing them proudly as a sign to any onlookers that he’s taken, thank you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s pretty lean, some nicely defined muscle, and there’s a very nice contrast between his skin and the green of his rider’s relic, which takes up half of his back.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

quite high, as mentioned earlier. he’s really into you, and incredibly easy to get in the mood. you’re having some kind of sex 3-ish times a week, or however many times you want -- he’s adaptable, and will always respect you / won’t push things if you say no.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

pretty quickly, since you are almost always cuddling after (unless you have somewhere very important to be) and he falls asleep super fast if you’re holding him and playing with his hair -- that’s a guaranteed way to get him knocked tf out.

#bodhi durran #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #bodhi durran x reader #might as well tag this as #Bodhi and Darling #smut #mine #reader insert

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emmyrosee · 9 months ago

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EMMY MY DEAREST MY BABY MY BELOVED <333

could I be a bit greedy and make another teeny tiny request?? you don’t have to feel obligated to do it AT ALL if you don’t want to!!! I’ve just been having an interesting time lately and you do comfort so well ☹️

genuinely all I’ve wanted all week is to be babied a bit/taken care of/pampered/absolutely smothered with soft gentle affection by atsumu when he starts to notice I’m getting overwhelmed or burnt out :(

I think he’d be good at catching it before it gets too out of control and keeping me sane. he wouldn’t let me lift a finger and he’d be so over the top with his physical affection cuz he knows I love that 😕

I feel so bad bc I feel like I’ve been bugging you a lot lately so pls pls pls don’t feel like you have to!!! I completely understand, there’s no pressure 🫶🏻🫶🏻

anon <3

YOU HAVENT BUGGED ME IN LIKE. FOUR MONTHS HUSH YOUR CUTE FACE- EVEN IF YOU DID SEND ME ANYTHING RECENTLY, YOURE NOT A BOTHER AND I LOVE YOU 😠❤️

he catches it pretty much immediately, with how you were clinging to him a little bit more than usual last night, brows seemingly forever pinched in the middle of your head and your fingers fisting the collar of his night shirt. he didn't say anything, but he definitely makes a note to keep an eye on it.

especially when, the next morning, you turn to your side to let him get ready for practice, and you hike the blankets higher and screw your eyes shut to try and tune him out.

he sees this, and crawls his body back into bed, mind now only focusing on taking care of you before you drown.

"peepee-poopoo," he whispers, hanging his head upside down to look at you, his blonde hair hanging shaggily. "where's my fighty baby this morning, hmm?"

you shrug and avoid his eyes, and pulls his head back to take this more seriously, "c'mere. come talk to me."

"you have to go-"

"i don't have to do a thing," he assures. he's quick to take out his phone and text coach that he's not going to make it, but he doesn't tell you that because the last thing you need is worrying about him missing a day to care for you.

which is one of his favorite things to do- but you fight him on it constantly. and he hopes today you're compliant enough to let him be here for you.

"do you want to talk about it?" he asks, gently rubbing his knuckles over your shoulder, and when you shake your head, he leans over your body again to kiss your cheek. "okay," he whispers, lingering for a minute before pulling back to head to the kitchen to make you breakfast.

breakfast, that was supposed to be in bed, but you worked up the courage to wade into the kitchen not long after him. "hey-" you begin, but you're cut off by the yelp from his lips and the dropping of an egg square to the floor, which you both look at blankly.

he starts to snicker, "whups."

"sorry."

he clicks his tongue, "shut up- come get a kiss," he says, stepping over the egg and pulling you into a hug, and his shoulders relax when you loosen in his arms. he sponges kisses to the crown of your head, "don't ever be sorry for something i did. it wasnt your fault."

you immediately tense back up, and atsumu knows his hit the nail on the head with it, and you burrow your face deeper into his chest and he tightens his grip on you to keep you grounded. "go back to bed," he soothes. "im with you today-"

"i dont want to be so far from you," you say, and he smiles as you dont put up an argument, dont scold him for staying, but his heart sinks slightly at the idea that youre so in your head all you can think about is him right now. "not today. can i stay?"

"id be bummed if you didn't," he says. he smirks and scoops you in his massive arms, relishing in the giggles you let you as he carries you and sets you on the counter, where he then feeds you slices of fruit while your eggs sear on the oven. he feeds you breakfast bite for bite, placing a straw in some water for you to drink before carrying you to the bathroom, where he tells you to brush your teeth.

you get shy, "can... do you think... maybe-"

"yeah," he smiles. "open up, babe."

he brushes your teeth, sure to get all the areas the dentist warns him about, before pulling back with a happy sigh and holding out his hand.

you quirk a brow, "what?"

"spit it into my hand."

"ew!" you laugh, and god it truly is his favorite sound, and you turn your head to spit the froth in the sink. "youre nasty."

"and you picked me first. too late to question your choice."

"yet i do every day."

"little fucker," he snickers, and when he makes a move to tickle you, you dart away, laughter ringing in the air as he barrels down after you, down the hall and into the bedroom, where he tackles you onto the bed. "i made you breakfast and this is the thanks i get?" he sighs, playfully punching your tummy, successfully dodging your hands to try and still his barely touching fists.

"l-learn from osamu," you manage, and his jaw slacks at your audacity while you giggle more in anticipation.

"you're annoying," he snorts, leaning down to nibble your ear and neck while his fingers spider up your sides, you shriek and shove his shoulders weakly. he stops and kisses the rest of the giggles from your lips, and he hums when you wrap your arms around his neck. when he pulls away, you mewl and tug him closer. he shushes you easily, "not going anywhere babydoll, i promise."

and he doesn't. he doesn't go anywhere, merely rolling you both onto your sides where he cradles you close, cupping the back of your head protectively as you burrow into him.

every now and then, he feels your shoulders tense up and quiver, as if you're fighting tears, but he doesn't make you say anything. not until you're ready to.

and when you are, he's there, his thumb gently stroking the back of your head while your tears soak into his shirt. he shushes you softly when your cries turn to sobs, or your breathing picks up too much for his comfort.

he reminds you he's not going anywhere, ever, he's got your back no matter what, and if it takes one day or fifteen, he's more than happy to stay in that bed, brush your teeth, feed you food, anything to keep you from drowning in your own anxieties and thoughts.

"thank you for telling me," he whispers every now and again. "im so proud of you."

"im so tired, atsumu... i don't know what to do anymore."

he screws his eyes shut as your voice cracks, "you're doing great, angel. keep doing what you're doing, because its your best, and its more than enough. and i'm sorry the world hasn't let you think it has been.

"you're more than enough. please keep going for me, okay?"

"okay..."

"I love you."

"I love you too atsu..."

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kiwi-on-ice · 1 month ago

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Kinktober 2024 day 24: Mommy Kink with Mercy

Fem reader, NSFW 18+

Also contains tit play, slight thigh riding and start of pussy eating

If there's one thing Angela loves, it's taking care of you. Taking care of anyone really, she had that sort of presence about her in which people sought comfort and reassurance from. And her beloved was no different.

As you come in and collapse on her, burying your face in her ample chest which elicits a laugh from the older woman, she starts to slowly tangle her hand in your hair, working out the knots from your bad day. You hum, content in her arms.

"Oh liebling, you look so drained." she coos, to which you nod a little, getting comfy on her. The hand not preoccupied with your hair curls around your waist, holding you flush against her.

"Bad day," you remark softly, and she sighs empathetically, "Want to just...forget about it."

"Did you want me to comfort you?" As she speaks, you nuzzle your face into her tits more, the tank top she was wearing really turning you on. "Oh...or perhaps you'd like another type of comfort than meerly holding? Am i right süßer?"

At the flush present on your cheeks, she smirks and runs a teasing hand down to your thighs, gently groping the skin. On instinct you buck you hips, seeking the pressure of her fingertips. But she keeps teasing you, rolling up your pencil skirt but not quite touching you over your panties, instead moving to trace figure-eights along your inner thigh.

"Mommy please..." you mumble pathetically, before you both freeze. Shit. You can't believe you just said that, immediately going rigid as you try and get out an apology. She however shushes you.

"Now now, no need to get yourself worked up. I was just a little surprised." She assures you, now opting to cup your jaw to tilt your head up as opposed to feeling your hair. "Liebling is that something you want? To call me that?"

Your need slightly overtakes your embarrassment as you nod shyly, but she rewards you with a gentle kiss.

"Good girl, thank you for telling me. Now, how about we get these clothes off you, and you let mommy make it all better, okay?"

Her kind words, mixed with her utterly seductive tone has you squirming out an affirmation, quickly helping her rid you of all your garments. But before she can try and please you, you gently whine and fidget with her top, pulling gently.

"Use your words."

With a soft breath, you reply. "Can you...take your top off please mommy?"

She grins, clearly pleased with your words. Angela is always a fan of a well behaved girl. "Go on then, take it off for me."

You don't need to be told twice, lifting the top over her head before gawking at the fact she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. The floral scent of her skin tells you she'd not long been out of the shower by the time you came home, and the dual mix of sensations sends your head dizzy.

She opens her mouth to speak, but her words are cut off into a soft gasp as you latch yourself onto her breast, sucking softly and massaging the other. Instead, stuttery gasps pour from her as you exploit her weakness; she always loves her tits being played with.

"Such a good girl for mommy." she mutters, still having the mind to get you back by exploiting your praise kink as she gently tugs at your hair.

You hums softly at the ever so slight pain, flicking your tongue over the now hard bud of her nipple, gently rocking your hips. She helps you, running her hand down to grab at your waist and move you against her thigh. The slight rough material of her leggings has you clenching around nothing, but it doesn't stop you from switching from one nipple to the other, needing both of them covered in your spit before you were done.

All the while, Angela feels like she's practically going to cum untouched. The protective aspect of her personality fires rapidly, now especially since you're being so vulnerable around her. Placing your body and pleasure in her hands, calling her mommy...it's all too much for her. Shes sure her pussy has leaked through the material of her leggings, aching for her good girl to please her.

"Schatz forgive me, but you've made me so...desperate. If you use that tongue of yours, I promise that i'll give you a special reward." she says, her voice slightly breathy and shaky. But your soft smile warms her heart and her cunt at the same time, as you dutifully get to work in taking her leggings off.

After all, you wanted her to help you forget about your day, and as your tongue swipes along her soaked folds, it's safe to say your shitty day isn't what you're thinking about anymore.

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juliaia · 2 months ago

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Rainy Nights in Hell's Kitchen

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Summary: You’ve been dating Matt for about a year—you always sleep better when you’re with him.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x gn!reader

Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, fluff, overuse of em-dashes.

A/N: This is super short and sweet, but I wanted to try writing for Matty. Totally feel free to request stuff if you enjoy, but I post fics at random whenever the urge strikes, so I’m not like an “official tumblr fanfic person” or whatever—but I sure am here!

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It was a dark and stormy night—and usually you wouldn’t mind that. The rain is pretty peaceful, and with the windows open you can catch the cool night air and the smell of petrichor on the breeze.

But today has been long and tiring, and lately you’ve been having really vivid, unpleasant nightmares.

You’ve kept them mostly to yourself, tying them to the general stress of day-to-day life and maybe a dash of unresolved trauma—but they’re just nightmares. They’re silly, and you are definitely not afraid to go to bed tonight in your own room in the dark, with the occasional, startling boom of loud thunder in the background.

The fact that you immediately answer a much too eager, “yes”, when Matt asks if you want to stay over at his apartment is totally unrelated.

So now, you’re sitting in the bathroom with Matt, getting ready for bed.

He looks so damn pretty in the slightly dim lighting. His face is cast in a soft glow, his bare chest is looking like a very warm, very comfortable pillow, his sweats are fitting him very nicely and making his butt look exceptionally cute—but to be fair, he always looks sinfully good. You’re pretty sure you could watch him just exist for hours on end.

You see a grin creep onto his face as he feels your eyes on him.

“You’re staring, sweetheart.” He says, pushing his hand through his hair as he turns towards you and holds out a hand. You take it, and he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Just watching you. You’re pretty.” You say. His grin softens to something less mischievous and more fond and sweet, and he leans in again, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’re prettier.” He murmurs—he’s got this shamelessly lovesick look on his face. You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Says the blind man.” He gives your hand a playful squeeze.

“I can still tell you’re pretty—ready for bed?” He asks. You hesitantly nod.

“Uh, yeah, alright.” He raises an eyebrow.

“…You’re usually more enthusiastic about sleeping.” You sigh, the two of you walking over to settle into bed on top of the cool silk sheets.

“I’ve just been having weird, bad dreams.” You explain. Matt’s face goes all soft and sympathetic.

If there is one thing Matt is, it’s protective. Which is usually sweet, but occasionally overdramatic to the point of hilarity. For example—two weeks ago, you got a papercut while opening a package (one of those awful cardboard-paper-cuts), and the moment Matt heard you let out that little hiss of frustration and pain, he came rushing over to fuss over you, face painted with concern as he took your hand and frantically examined the wound. It’s especially funny considering how he insists you don’t need to worry about him when he shows up at 3 in the morning after patrol, bleeding from a stab wound in his side, or on the verge of passing out from a concussion.

So, you mention the nightmares, and Matt goes all soft, pulling you against his chest, holding you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Oh, angel, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. You shrug.

“Eh, you’ve got other stuff on your plate—they’re just nightmares.” Matt shakes his head, nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply.

“They’re upsetting you, and ruining your sleep.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head.

“Matty, babydoll—“ He cuts you off by pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours, his warm eyes unfocused and unseeing but somehow still so damn emotional.

“Sweetheart,” He says. “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you, please?”

Dammit—Matt and his stupid puppy dog eyes. That sweet soft sad look he gives you, the pleading, pouty face, his pretty pink lips and big dumb wet eyes. You relent, sighing in defeat, and he grins, pulling you into his arms, kissing your cheek, and dragging you to bed, laying down with you.

“I’m here, okay?” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head. You grumble, folding yourself into his arms, smushing up against his chest. He rubs your back, holding you close. “Nothing gets to ruin your sleep except for me.” He says. You snort, giving his bicep a squeeze–oh those wonderful thick arms of his.

“Dork.” He pulls you over, tucking you against his chest for a cuddle. He nuzzles his face against the top of your head.

“I’m here. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. No nightmares.” He says. You smile, hand finding his, fingers lacing through his own.

“I don’t know if you have any control over what I dream about, but I appreciate it anyway.” You say. Matt yawns softly, kissing your temple.

“I’m just gonna hold you so tight the nightmares won’t be able to get you.” He loves having you so close, loves being able to protect you and cuddle up with you to sleep. He presses his nose and mouth into the crook of your neck, letting out a happy growl. You reach back to ruffle his hair.

“Thanks, Matty.” You murmur. He nods, kissing your cheek.

Curled up in his arms, you fall asleep easier. The rain falls outside, soft pitter patters on the window panes as Matt’s steady breathing lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up at two in the morning, hands gripping the sheets, Matt wakes up with you, pulling you closer and kissing your temple, hands coming up to rub your shoulders.

“Hey angel, you’re okay. I’m here.” You push yourself further into his arms, body shaking slightly as you wrap your arms around his arm, holding it against your chest. “I’m here.” He rubs your chest, hand drawing soothing circles against you. “What can I do to help, hm?”

You just push yourself closer to him, and he settles you into his lap, shushing you gently and kissing the top of your head. He holds you tightly, hand gently rubbing over your racing heart in a gesture he hopes is grounding and comforting.

You tuck your face against his warm neck, inhaling the scent of him, pressing a soft kiss to his skin. He chuckles, hand coming to cup your cheek, his face tilting down and his nose nudging against yours. You wrap your arms around him, too tired and shaken up to be embarrassed about seeking him out for comfort. He cuddles you against him, laying back with you against his chest.

You’re quickly lulled back to sleep by the soothing sounds of his breathing and heartbeat, and after that, you sleep solidly through the night without any issues. Matt’s warm arms wrapped around you, blankets cozy and soft, the rain and thunder outside becoming gentle background noise.

In the morning, Matt wakes you up with a few soft kisses on the temple, stirring you to consciousness, drawing a little grumble from you. He chuckles, rubbing your back gently.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t resist.” He pecks you on the lips. You hide your face against his chest, trying to block out the light from the window. He kisses the top of your head, throwing his leg over your hip to pull you closer. He’s so warm, and he smells so good, and he’s cuddling you close like you’re the most precious thing in the world. “Did you sleep okay? Aside from the bad dreams?” He asks, hand resting on your back. You nuzzle your face against the crook of his arm. You did sleep okay, you felt safe and warm in his arms, held close in his arms.

“Mhm. Slept better with you.” You say. Matt grins, face flushing as he snuggles you closer, squishing you against him.

“You should stay over more often. Move in with me, so I can keep you safe from all the nightmares.” He says, fingers brushing through your hair. You smile softly.

“…Shit, are you asking me to move in with you?” You ask. Matt kisses your forehead.

“Depends…would you say yes if I was?” You chuckle.

“Yes, yes I would.” Matt smiles, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Then yes, yes I am asking you to move in with me.”

“And I’m saying yes.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader

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slut4thebroken · 9 months ago

Text

Promise

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Neil Lewis x reader

Summary | He’s a perv and lowkey a bad friend lol

Warnings | Smut, technically non con, masturbating, objectification, degradation, misogyny?, perv neil (again).

Words | 1.5 k

Notes | Ty to whoever sent the ask for this 🙌 Also this is barely proofread btw

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Give me a sec, I need to finish getting dressed.” You said, with only your head in the frame. Your hair was still wet so you must have just gotten out of the shower. He smiled and watched your head disappear, listening to the sound of clothes rustling until you were finally sitting down in front of your computer. “Hi.” You said through a breath of exertion from rushing to get dressed.

“Hi.” He chuckled, but it trailed off when he noticed your top. You were wearing a very tight, very low cut tank top and no bra— He knew because he could just barely see your nipples poking through the fabric.

“How was your day?” You asked and he had to force his gaze to move back to your face, finding a small smile on your lips.

“Same as always. Went to work, came home. Nothing new.” He shrugged. “What about you? You were telling me about something earlier over text,”

“Right..” You groaned, already getting annoyed again at just the reminder of it. “You know that one coworker I hate?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled quietly.

“Well, she was there today.” You said bitterly, then started droning on about what happened. Honestly, he couldn’t listen to a word you were saying. He was watching your tits through the screen as his cock started fattening up in his pants— In his defense though… he hasn’t touched himself in like.. two days. So it’s only natural he’d get worked up so easily— especially because it’s you. He palmed his bulge beneath the camera, being careful not to move his arm too much.

He waited as long as he could… Honestly, he did.

“Hang on, I gotta turn my camera off really quick. I’m still listening though.”

“Okay.” You said, thinking nothing of it. He turned the camera off and you continued talking, gesturing with your hands, making your tits move in a way that had his mouth watering. Unable to wait any longer, he pushed his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock and immediately started stroking it. His eyes fluttered shut and he bit his lip to stifle a moan as his head fell back.

He was barely listening to your words, just wanting to hear your sweet voice and imagine you were saying something else instead… something far dirtier. Wanting to watch you again, he leaned his head back up and opened his eyes to study your face. Your lips looked so pink and pouty, and so fucking kissable— it drove him crazy.

“Neil..” You called out, snapping him out of his trance.

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat when he heard how raspy it already was.

“I asked if you were listening.” You giggled— fucking giggled.

“Sorry… I promise I am now.” It was so hard to talk with his cock in his hand, throbbing with need.

“Why can’t you turn your camera on?” You suddenly asked, making him freeze. He never thought you’d actually confront him about it…

“I- Uh… I spilled soda all over myself and I’m still trying to clean it up, while being mostly nude… I can turn it back on if you want.” He said suggestively.

“Okay okay, sorry.” You laughed, then continued talking. “Oh- I wanted to show you what I got the other day. It reminded me of you.” You smiled and then stood up, making his jaw drop. The tank top didn’t even reach your belly button and the shorts you were wearing rested low on your hips.

When you turned around, he choked on a moan and squeezed the base of his cock, trying not to come right then and there. No wonder the shorts were so low… If you pulled them up any higher, they’d expose more than just the very bottom of your ass. You must not have heard him because you walked a few more steps to your bookcase, then started looking for the mystery object. His hand had a mind of its own and started stroking again as he watched your hips sway while you looked through different drawers and shelves.

You bent down to look through the bottom half, sticking your ass out as if you were teasing him on purpose. He cursed under his breath when he could just barely see the outline of your pussy in the skin tight shorts. When you leaned back up, the fabric was even higher up on your ass now and when you turned around to walk back to the computer, he saw that your tank top shifted as well, exposing more of your cleavage and the swell of your breasts. They jiggled as you sat back down in the chair.

“Are you sure you’re listening?” He suddenly heard through the trance he was in.

“Mhm.. just keep talking. Promise I’m listening.” He tried not to say the words through a moan.

“Okay…” You said skeptically, but continued anyway. He was enjoying the view of your tits, but he desperately wanted to see your ass again, so he bit his lip and tried to think of a way to get you out of the chair again.

He waited until you were done talking before asking, “Is that thing up there new?” Your brows furrowed and you turned around to see what he was talking about.

“The figurine thing? I guess yeah. You haven’t been over in a while.”

“Can I see it?” You smiled and agreed and he watched you stand up and turn around, only letting you take two steps before stopping you. “Wait,” You froze and turned back around, leaning down into the frame so he could see your face.

“What?” The way you were bent over exposed even more of your tits and he stifled a groan at the sight.

“Nevermind, sorry.” He chuckled, playing it off. You seemed suspicious but eventually leaned back up and turned around to continue walking. You got up on your toes and reached up, making your tank top raise even more, now showing your entire lower back. He imagined seeing that when he had you bent over instead, squirming and moaning under him until he came on the cute little dimples you have.

“I used a stool to get it up here.” You laughed, dropping your heels, making your ass bounce, and twisting around to face the computer.

“It looks like you’re almost there.”

“Really?” You turned back around and looked up, then started reaching again, making little groans of effort that had his cock throbbing.

“Try jumping.”

“Neil, do you have to see it?” You huffed, already getting tired of this. “Can’t you just wait until the next time you come over?”

“But I want to see it now.” He made sure to make his pout show in his tone since you couldn’t see his face. You let out a loud, exaggerated groan in response, but kept trying. The first time you jumped, your fingers almost brushed it. He watched in awe and cursed under his breath at the way your ass moved when you landed. Is that how it would move when he plowed into you from behind?

You jumped again, just barely touching it. When you landed, you pulled your top down, embarrassed by how much of your midriff was showing. Neil muted his computer for a moment, needing to let out the sounds while you couldn’t see that he turned his sound off.

The tip of his cock was completely red now, pulsing and twitching in his hand as he neared his orgasm. He moaned loudly when you jumped again and his hips bucked up into his hand.

“Fuuuck..” He groaned, tilting his head back, but not too far so that he could still see the screen. When you jumped again, you finally grabbed it and he turned the audio back on as you walked over. Just before sitting, you pulled your tank top down again when you noticed how much of your stomach was showing. You didn’t seem to mind that the added coverage on your stomach was at the expense of the coverage on your tits. Or you just didn’t know.

You started talking about the figurine and where you got it, and he let out little uh huh’s or grunts in response. He genuinely had no idea what you were saying, but there wasn’t even a small part of him that cared. You put it down and suddenly stretched your arms up, leaning back in the chair to stretch your back with a low moan.

He felt his balls tighten up instantly and he got to his feet, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. He rapidly fisted his cock as you leaned back up, your top even lower now. With a stifled groan, his orgasm finally crashed over him. Rope after rope of come painted the computer screen, right on your tits.

“Neil?” You asked, but he couldn’t talk, not when his body was literally shaking from the intensity of the pleasure. “Are you okay?” He started panting quietly as he stroked the last bead of come out, then released his cock.

“Yeah.” He said through a breath, flopping back down onto the chair. His cock was still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm, especially when he saw your come covered tits though the screen.

“Are you sure?” You were so cute when you got all concerned like this. So cute, but so dumb.

“Promise.”

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @theoraekenslover @kaorisakamotofan @scorpiussage @naevisct @jimmywoosimp @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @thatonesinglefriend @bernelflo @milktert @nyxxie.pooh @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @milkytomura @bigbossbabysworld @sheisthedxrkness @hanawrites404 @ll4n4 @olivialveshbc @feyresqueen @charlottegemyngende @ffionspreach @drcranessweetestdoe @madeinuk @hanawrites404

#neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #cillian murphy #watching the detectives

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vodika-vibes · 9 months ago

Note

Can you please do Blue Daisy and Anemone for Crosshair with a Bounty Hunter Reader? I really love your stories, you're doing amazing!

For The Love Of A Sniper

Summary: You're a Bounty Hunter and Crosshair is your partner in every way. And when your family threatens you, Crosshair offers to deal with it.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1234

Warnings: Crosshair is soft

Prompts: Blue Daisy - Long Term Loyalty, Anemone - Undying Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I hope this is close to what you wanted, I was going to make this a sequel to my recent Crosshair series, but I had a better idea!

When you were a little girl, your parents planned your life almost to the minute. You were ferried from school to dance lessons or music lessons or voice lessons or language lessons. Every second of free time had to be accounted for.

You didn’t have time for friends, and barely had time for family.

Your parents also planned your outfits, frilly dresses in pastel colors and your hair meticulously curled every morning, and then styled with bows and ribbons. And shoes that were so uncomfortable that, on more than one occasion, you considered cutting your toes off so it would hurt less.

Even your schools were devoted to making you the best daughter. High end boarding schools with even more high end finishing classes, with the end goal of sending you to Naboo to attend Theeds Law School.

Perfection was the expectation.

And you were never perfect.

The day that your parents dropped you off at Law School, you dropped out. You managed to get the school to send the refund, nearly 3 million credits total, to your personal bank account, and then you spent a massive chunk of money cutting and dying your hair, and then buying a new wardrobe.

Within a week of your parents dropping you off on Naboo, you were gone.

That was four years ago. And over the last four years, you’ve made something of a name for yourself as a bounty hunter. You have your own ship, painted vibrant purple and named Spoiler, and you often bounce between cargo delivery and Bounty Hunting, based on what is the most profitable at the time.

Sometimes you do both at the same time, just for funsies.

And you know, because you’ve seen it, your name is plastered on missing persons lists and on bounty boards. Too bad that you don’t look anything like the cherub looking girl on the posters anymore.

In fact, the only person who might recognize you as the girl in the poster is your boyfriend. And even then, only because you told him.

Speaking of said boyfriend-

You hang your body armor on the rack in the cargo hold, and climb the stairs to the main part of the ship. You slide open the door to the bedroom, and grin at the man stretched out on the bed. “You ever planning on getting up, handsome?”

Crosshair seems to stretch out even more, and he tucks his arms under his head, his dark eyes locked on your face, “I thought I’d be lazy today,” He drawls, “You could join me.”

You lean against the doorframe, a small smile on your lips. He really is too handsome. Especially lounging in your bed wearing nothing but the dark sweatpants that you bought him. He looks healthy, finally, having put some weight on now that he’s no longer with the Empire.

“See something you like, doll?”

You grin at him, lazy and slow, “I see something that’s mine.” You tease.

Crosshair chuckles and shifts to free one arm, “Come here, princess.” He almost purrs. And, really, how are you expected to deny that request?

You kick your boots off and climb on the bed to drape yourself across his chest. You take a moment to press a light kiss just over his heart, before you slide up to tuck your head against his neck. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm, I did.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and presses a light kiss to the top of your head, “And then I got an alert-” He uses his free hand to grab the datapad on the side of the bed, “Someone put a flag on all accounts attached to your old name.”

“Another one?” You roll slightly so you’re able to see the screen, and then you sigh, “This is, what, number five? Six?”

“Eight in the last six months.” Crosshair corrects.

“Well, following the money is step one in the ‘how to find someone who doesn’t want to be found’ handbook, I suppose.” You mutter under your breath as you roll again and fold your arms on his chest.

“You would know, wouldn’t you, princess.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like those accounts are attached to my name anymore.” You reply as you look down at his face, “Which is a shame, there’s nearly 3 million credits in that account.”

Crosshair reaches up and slides his fingers across your cheek, “Those credits have so many strings attached, you might as well be a puppet.”

“Mm, don’t I know it.” You lean in and kiss him gently, “Luckily, they won’t find me. And 3 million credits is a lot less than I would pay to never be their perfect little doll ever again.”

His eyes glitter, “Even if they did, if you think I’m giving you up without a fight-”

A soft laugh falls from your lips, “Aww, I knew you loved me.”

His lips curl up into an amused smile, “You’re alright, I suppose.” In spite of his light, teasing, words his hand tightly clutches at your hip.

You shift and press feather light kisses across his face, “I’m not going anywhere. Not willingly.” You whisper to him.

His grip loosens slightly, “Of course not. You’d never find anyone as good as I am.” His hand slithers up your side to grip the collar of your shirt between two strong fingers, and he pulls you down to crash your lips against his. “We do, however,” He murmurs after a moment, “have to deal with this.”

“Can’t we ignore it?” You whine.

“You know we can’t.” He finally moves his other arm from under his head, and he wraps it tightly around you, “Let me handle it.”

You nervously bite your lower lip, “I don’t know-”

“I’m not going to hand you in,” Crosshair murmurs, as gentle with your anxieties regarding your family as you are with his anxiety about you leaving, “My loyalty is to you. Now and forever.”

You sigh, “I know. I just don’t like you going off on your own.” You kiss him quickly, and then press a longer, slower, kiss against his lips, “I never wanted to demand your loyalty.”

“You never had to.” There’s something soft and vulnerable in his gaze, and you think you love him a little more for it, “You didn’t expect my loyalty like my brothers.” He kisses you just under your eyes, “And you never demanded it like the Empire.” He drags his lips across the bridge of your nose, “You were loyal to me, so I became loyal to you.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You say warmly.

He rolls his eyes, “Then how’s this? I love you. Forever. Until there’s no more breath in my lungs. Until my heart beats it last.”

You press your forehead against his, “You’re going to make me cry and mess up my make-up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll never say anything so gross ever again.” He jokes. “What do you say, Princess? Trust me to handle this?”

“Deal. You can handle it, and I’ll just…hang out in the ship for you.”

“Deal.” He pulls you back into a deep kiss, “Later though. For now you’re on top of me and won’t stop squirming-” You release a bubbly laugh as he flips the pair of you and pins you to the bed, “Really, you brought this on yourself, princess.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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headcanonenthusiast · 11 months ago

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Kyle Garrick NSFW headcanons

This was so difficult to write for some reason and idk why 😭😭 I think I just had a lot of trouble writing for Gaz, because as much as I like him as a character, I'm not much of a Gaz girl. (Or, I wasn't before writing this. I think I changed my own mind with these headcanons 🤭)

(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)

Enjoy!

Nsfw under the cut.

-His biggest mission during sex is to make you scream.

-If you haven't screamed his name so loudly that it gets you a volume warning on a smart watch, he isn't done.

-Will beg you to be even louder if he isn't satisfied with your volume.

-"C'mon, louder. Louder, baby, you can be louder than that."

-Lowkey doesn't mind fucking you near an open window. Def leans down to whisper in your ear to encourage you to be louder.

-"Don't go covering your mouth now, love. Let the neighbors hear how good I'm making you feel."

-3 inches soft, 5 inches hard.

-Calls you pretty girl/boy all the time.

-Especially if you're wearing something of his, whether it be a shirt or necklace or his dog tags.

-Honestly, whenever he sees you in his clothing, especially his dog tags, he goes crazy.

-"Look at you, pretty boy/girl. Keeping my shirt nice and warm for me."

-OBSESSED with taking you while you're on your stomach.

-He'll lean down to kiss your shoulders and back, fingers switching between your hip to your side.

-Isn't opposed to you being on top, as long as you're both enjoying yourselves.

-Like I said, he loves taking you from behind. As such, he sees any sort of marks or dots that you normally don't even see. And he'll run his fingers along any birthmarks/scars with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

-Feel like he'd like recording/taking pictures of it, too. (With consent ofc)

-And he definitely won't share those photos with anyone. They are only for his eyes and your own.

-"God, baby. I ruined you last night. Look at how messy your hair got."

-I feel like he sends the most gorgeous nudes.

-He basically poses for you like a model in front of the mirror. Mf knows he's hot.

-I feel like the main way he asks for sex is sending you a nude or spicy message. Normally doesn't ask for it outright, kinda let's it go over text or come into the night randomly.

-He sees eating you out/sucking you off as a great way to calm you down.

-If somethings got you upset, he'll get a small frown on his face and look more concerned. You don't have to tell him anything if you don't want to, though. Just let him gently eat your pussy/suck your dick and I can guarantee that you'll forget about whatever was upsetting you.

-If you feel more overstimulated or just have the tendency to cry from the sensations of sex, he's stopping and pulling out with a hand on your shoulder.

-"Oh shit, did I hurt you? I'm sorry, babe."

-And even if he didn't hurt you at all, it just felt super good, he never pressures you into continuing. If you want to keep going, he'll return to a similar pace but with more awareness of your facial expressions and noises.

-I feel like he'd want to try cockwarming you, but he's honestly so bad at keeping still. It's not his fault you feel too good to not move inside of.

-"Come on, baby. You feel so good, you're so fucking tight. It'd be sinful of me not to move."

-Please put your hands on his shoulders if you're on your back. Nothing will get him harder than you touching his shoulders.

-And if you cry out his name? His confidence shoots through the roof and he nearly cums right then and there.

-Prefers cumming on your stomach, back or thighs so he can take pictures afterwards.

-Aftercare includes him handing you some water before grabbing two game controllers, asking if you'd like to play a game before bed. And if you agree, y'all's moans won't be the only thing the neighbors complain about. Your laughter will probably be as loud as the moans, too.

-And maybe whoever loses the game has to bottom for the next round, idk 🤭

My hands hurt from typing so much 😭 but thanks to everyone who voted! It was challenging to write for Gaz, bc like I said, until an hour ago when I started writing this I wasn't super attracted to him, but I need to learn to write for characters I don't often think about more. Hope y'all enjoyed! Alejandro is up next 😏

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hellsburners · 1 year ago

Text

you’re my religion

summary: the cross on his neck does things to a person. pairing: matt murdock × male!reader word count: 954 warnings: 18+ warning, protected sex, gay sex, anal sex, blowjobs, top!matt, bottom!reader a/n: might be my last matt fic for a bit since i dont want to get burnt out just writing him but i do have stuff in the works for matt especially some mattfrank x m!reader and mattelektra x m!reader so check those out soon!!

masterlist | more matt murdock

Rain pours tonight in Hell’s Kitchen. You and your boyfriend are drenched in the rain huddling towards some shade. You were on a date and were on the way home, people in the streets running with briefcases on their heads or fumbling to open their umbrellas. Matt was giggling while running his hands through his wet hair. You giggled too, you were both on a high from the date. He took you to his favorite place in the city, a small Chinese restaurant that served amazing dumplings, and his favorite bar, Josie’s, to grab some beer and play billiards.

“You’re right, we should’ve taken a cab,” he laughed, that cheeky laugh that accentuated his dimples. “You could stay with me for a bit,” he pauses. “Until the rain stops - I mean.”

“Sure, I’d like that a lot actually, my socks are wet and it’s making me so uncomfortable,” you smiled. He takes your hand and laces your fingers together, his calloused hands meeting yours. You blush at the gesture, he whisks you to him as you walk towards his apartment.

This man, you were outside his door and his hands were cupped to your cheeks, his lips pressed on yours. His kiss becomes feverish, your arms wrapped around his waist as his left-hand rests on your neck. He was taller than you so your neck started to sore from looking up, you didn’t mind because this was making your cheeks burn so bad. He pins you to his door, not losing contact with your lips. He takes his keys from his back pocket and unlocks the door with a swift movement.

You fumble on your way in, pushing your shoes off and your wet socks. He removes his black coat and tosses it to the side, you pull your shirt off as he signals for the couch. You lay down while unbuttoning your trousers. He stands on top of you as he pulls his belt off with one hand. You help him unbutton his drenched white shirt. You both get all buttons open and he pulls his shirt off. Your eyes wander on his naked torso. You never noticed the necklace he wore, it was a thin black leather strap with a small golden cross. You pulled up to kiss him again, his tongue meeting yours. He starts to trail kisses on your neck, you shudder from the erotic pleasure. You lay back again on the couch as he starts to leave wet kisses on your torso, your nipples given more love than the rest. His fingers find the hem of your boxers and he pulls the garment down, your cock hard from all the kisses. He kisses the skin around your sex teasingly, you run your hands through his hair. He takes your legs and rests them on his broad shoulders as he takes you in his mouth, you moaning marveling at his back muscles contracting. He was unreal, a man carved by god, and he was pleasuring you.

“Fuck, Matt,” you moaned, and your tip was hitting the roof of his throat. You were almost pulling on his hair, Matt didn’t care about the slight stinging on his scalp, the pain only turned him on more. “Not yet, love, we’re not yet done here.”

He stands up to get some condoms and lube. You felt bare on his couch, well you were, but the lack of contact gave you a sense of shame. After a few seconds, he was back, a roll of condoms and a small bottle of lube in hand. He takes some lube to his two fingers to prepare you. It was cold at first, his thick fingers feeling your tight muscle, he went deeper until you moaned. He takes more lube to put on his erection. For the lack of a better word you found his dick so beautiful, it was thick, not so long, but a sizable amount, cut with a pink head, the base neatly trimmed. He bent down to insert his hardness and you both moaned from the contact, your arms found themselves wrapped around his neck.

Through the lights of nearby billboards, the gold cross on his neck shimmered dangling above you. There was something so sensual about the act. The way your bodies, glistened with sweat, would move towards each other in an act of lust. Moans, sounding like the hymn of angels in this small apartment. And the cross, there in front of you like in the middle of the church. You close your eyes in a bit of prayer. You whispered the lord’s name and some profanities, using his name in vain. Matt went back to continue to feast on your neck, the gold cross resting on your chest cold. His hand pumps your cock with the same rhythm as his. You could feel yourself coming to a climax.

He leaves your neck to sit up, your legs held at his side. You could see the way his abdomen moved to thrust his hips into you. His thrusts became erratic, and your cock was close to letting go. You quickly grabbed the cross from his neck, pulling him back to you as you kissed. The kiss is hot with wanton lust, almost sloppy. Moans stifled in your mouths.

And then you two, at the same time, let your pleasures erupt. He fills the condom while yours shoots into your abdomen. His thrusts stop while kissing you, the quick rising and falling of your chests slowing. He kisses your temples and collapses on your shoulder, his full body weight pressing into yours.

“Babe, you’re still inside me,” you catch your breath.

“Give me a few minutes,” he whispers, slowly drifting to sleep.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x male reader #daredevil x male reader #matt murdock x male reader smut #daredevil x male reader smut

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bunni-v1 · 3 months ago

Text

Cureé

Chapter 5: Deal Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Tw: None (I think!)

Info: Vil and Reader; Riddle Rosehearts x Reader; Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Word Count: 7.4k Words

🍓Unfortunatelyyyyyyyy this chapter had to be split into two! It was getting too long and I knew I had to cut it in half. The second part WILL be shorter I promise! Anyway, this one was a lot of fun to write, and we're starting to get into the meat of everything here! Hope you all enjoy <3

Taglist: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing @roseinbloom02 @savanaclaw1996 (Lmk if you want to be added)

“This may be the worst thing I’ve ever worn…” you grumble, glaring at the too-fluffy purple fabric of your skirt. The sleeves were a poofy nightmare, flaring out from the top with slits down the center for better arm movement, and to show off your pretty silk gloves. The corset wrapped around your waist did you no favors, only restricting your movements and making it harder to breathe. The only thing the dress did not cover was your chest, draped in the finest jewels your handmaids could find. It likely didn’t help that you had an extra layer of hunting clothes beneath the whole ensemble.

“It’s not that bad…” Deuce tries to soothe, smoothing over the skirt.

It was a very pretty dress but… You felt a bit ridiculous in the wretched thing. Ballgowns were never your favorite, while your brother adored them more than anything. He could pull them off though, looking like a goddess and floating across the floor like a ghost. You… you looked like… well…

“You look like a purple cream puff,” Ace says, better than anyone else could.

“I know,” you whine, “I begged for something more… modest, but appearances and such.”

“You look pretty,” Deuce tries again, and you focus your glare in the mirror on him, which makes him shrink back a bit.

“You do look nice,” Ace jumps in, “just not…”

“Yourself,” Deuce finishes for him, smile awkward and nervous as always.

You sigh, fiddling with the pretty silken gloves. You did not like silk gloves, you always struggled to grab silverware with them on, but they were pretty. They made you feel pretty, despite your favor for leather hunters gloves.

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Ace slings his arm around your shoulder, waving his hand through the air and looking off into the distance. You follow his gaze, though you know you both looked incredibly stupid, “that hunter guy is gonna lose his mind when he sees you all dressed up.”

You roll your eyes. You told Ace and Deuce about your interesting beau shortly after he had left your room, and the two of them had not allowed you to live it down since. You fix your glare up at Ace now, arms crossing petulantly over your chest. While the idea of Rook enjoying your outfit made butterfly wings tickle your stomach, you did not like being teased about it. In retaliation, you poke him hard in his ribs. He whines and gives you space to breathe.

“Don’t make me think about him,” you sigh, “it’ll make this dinner all the more dreadful.”

“At least you’re sitting near Riddle?” Deuce asks hopefully, an encouraging smile gracing his features. You find his smile to be quite knightly, and the nervous part of your brain is assured by it. If only a little.

“At least I have that,” you laugh lightly, giving yourself one last look over in the mirror before the door to your room cracked open, familiar blue eyes sparkling at you.

“It’s time to make your appearance, Your Majesty,” Epel said playfully, practically jittering in excitement.

You let out a noise between a squeak of surprise and an exclamation of joy, then throw yourself into his arms. He spins you around a few times, laughing, then plants you on the ground and straightens any fabric or hair that might’ve fallen out of place. Seeing Epel was quite the pick me up, especially since you hadn’t seen him since those few nights ago.

“You are my escort?” You exclaim, unable to stay still as you bounce up and down happily.

“The Queen specifically requested I be the one to escort you,” he confirms, smiling bright as the sun, “though… I’m unsure why he changed his tune about everything that happened.”

“That’s not something to worry about,” you dismiss, though you are confident your little… argument with your brother was the most likely cause, “I’m just happy to see you again.”

His smile softens into something more gentle, intimate, and knowing. You missed the kind way he looked at you. Like you were his family and he yours. Before you both can get too lost in catching up a throat clears behind you. Ah, yes. Ace and Deuce were here.

“Who’s this?” Ace asks chest puffed out. Was he… sizing Epel up? The idea is so funny that you laugh a little without meaning to.

“Ah, Ace and Deuce, this is my best friend since childhood, Epel,” You turn to Epel, who also seems to be sizing the two men up, “Epel, these are my temporary guards and dearest companions from the Rosedom, Ace and Deuce.”

“You’ve been taking good care of them?” Epel asks sharply.

“Great care,” Ace retorts, just as sharp.

“The best, even,” Deuce remarks as well.

Before the three of them can get into a verbal game of proving who you do or do not like more, you wave your hands in the air and insist that you must not be late for dinner. Your brother’s wrath would be unpleasant to face, especially after having made a big deal of promising to be on time. So, reluctantly, the three men back down and guide you carefully through the busy halls bustling with castle staff ensuring everything was perfect for the day.

When you finally reach the (frankly, too) large doors of the dining room, Epel stops you. Introductions, of course, you are sure all the suitors (actually just your brother, and maybe Kalim) are waiting with bated breath to see you. Hah, the thought is funny. No one really wants to be here, and you know that for a fact.

Epel announces your arrival, the doors open, and you put a pleasant smile on your face. Perform perfectly, and it’ll all be over in no time, you remind yourself. Your brother stands at the end of the table, though he does not make direct eye contact with you the whole time you are walking to your seat. You are to be positioned opposite of him, and as promised, Riddle is standing in the spot next to you. Unfortunately for you, Leona is positioned on the other side of you, and you try not to frown when you realize this.

Next to Leona is, surprisingly, Azul Ashengrotto, who you did not expect to see tonight. He was not exactly someone you imagine your brother being willing to negotiate with, especially not when you are in question… but you have been learning quite a bit about your brother you suppose. Kalim sat next to Riddle, giving you a little wave when you made eye contact. You do not grin, though you wish to do so. Kalim was such a sweetheart, especially to you, even before any marriage was in question.

Idia, whom you had forgotten was even an option for you, was sitting on your brother's left next to Kalim. He looked as though he might burst out crying when you looked at him, so you swiftly moved your eyes to the final suitor. Malleus Draconia, as elegant and handsome as always, which causes a nagging part of your brain to roll its eyes (though you do not). He gives you a confident smile, and you have to resist the urge to vomit. His ever-scary retainer was standing near the edge of the room by the guards after all, you did not want to feel his gaze on you ever again after that one night.

When you position yourself in front of your seat, you finally lock eyes with your brother. He is beautiful as always, as expected. There is a lingering sadness in his face, a stress that you had not seen since your parents had passed. You hate the way satisfaction grows in your belly at the thought that you had caused it. Resentment was an ugly beast.

Vil clears his throat, and a kind, gentle, fake smile comes across his lips. “Welcome all to dinner, we are delighted to have your company on this fine evening. More than that, I am pleased that all of you are interested in trying for my dearly beloved siblings' hand in marriage. This dinner, so to speak, will mark the beginning of the ahem competition for her affections. Do try your best.”

The air around you becomes tense at his words, even though your brother continues to speak, and you don’t believe it’s solely because of your distaste for the idea. There is a real drive in (some of) these men to prove themselves to you. They all have stakes in this ‘friendly’ competition for your hand — well, more like their kingdoms do. While each of them has little personal gain, their people would greatly benefit from a marriage between their kingdom and the most powerful human royal line in the current times.

You are a prize to be won, as much as you do not want to be, and it makes your stomach turn. You are so discomforted with the feeling, that you spend the rest of your brothers pleasantries ignoring his words and trying to calm yourself. You only tune back in when everyone sits and food is brought out.

You fiddle with your silken gloves, nerves shot. You hated feeling like prey. You were not a deer in the forest, you were the hunter. So why did you feel like you were stripped of that pride? Why did you feel the burn of seven eyes on you? Lost in your mind, you nearly spiral, until a gentle tap comes from your right side, and an awkward smile from the prettiest cupid bowed lips your eyes had ever seen pulls you from your stresses. Riddle’s gray eyes are strangely… understanding as he quietly asks “Are you okay?” You nod, and he relaxes just a bit.

Some of your suitors have already begun to engage each other in conversation, and you realize you must’ve been quiet and unmoving for a significant amount of time. Your face heats at the idea. You do not feel yourself right now, thank goodness for Riddle’s uncharacteristic kindness.

He seems to notice, again, that you are floundering and decides to converse with you. You think he may be an angel sent by the seven to save you from your idiocy.

“Trey gave me those tarts you made last week,” he begins, “they were delightful. Raspberry is surprisingly delicious.”

You are pleasantly surprised to find that Riddle was the recipient of your leftover treats. He didn’t strike you as the sweet kind, but perhaps that was because you only knew him to be sour. Was Trey trying to get you some bonus points with him? Or maybe it was him with you. Regardless of Trey’s intentions, both you and Riddle benefited.

“Yes, my mother's recipe,” you speak in hushed tones, not wanting to draw attention, “I didn’t know you liked sweets.”

He frowns a little, biting his bottom lip and furrowing his brows. You briefly imagine a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar and smile a little, which seems to ease his mind a bit as his face relaxes.

“I’m not… supposed to eat sweets like that,” he admits finally, “they’re too fattening and not good for the health.”

You shake your head at him, scoffing, “A little treat once in a while is a good thing. Anyway, I am glad you ate them. I didn’t want all of our hard work to be wasted.”

His pretty pink lips curled up into a smile, which makes butterflies flutter around in your rib cage. Riddle is handsome, which you knew from your encounters beforehand, but you hadn’t taken the time to study why that was before. His face was slender, cheeks still soft with not yet lost baby fat. His skin was pale from how much time he spent indoors being pampered by his maids and serfs, and his cheeks flushed a pretty rosy red – you believed it was natural, which only made him more handsome in your opinion.

Despite the soft, childlike look he had, his features were sharp and trained like a true ruler. Steel blue eyes pierced into every aspect of your being, framed by soft, long eyelashes. And, of course, those damned pink lips. The dip of his cupid's bow gave them a heart-shaped look, which only added to how pretty he was. Sevens, you were jealous of just how effortlessly beautiful your – tentative – friend was.

“I’m inclined to agree with you after eating those tarts,” he laughs, ending your ogling.

You give him a pleasant smile and move to eat your meal. You were the only person in the room that had hardly touched the food, which was delicious, and so entirely unlike yourself. You made up for that in record time, still managing to look and act like you were royalty while you did so. (After seeing Ace and Deuce eat earlier this week, you were very conscious of how you looked while you ate).

You noticed the, in lack of better terms, impressed face Riddle makes when he finally looks back at your plate and half of it is gone. He does not say anything though, and you are grateful for it because explaining how much you like food to someone as slim and pretty as him fills you with hot shame just thinking about it. You give him a gracious smile, lightly patting your lips to be rid of any food that might’ve escaped you.

“You eat like a monster,” comes a grating, gravely deep voice next to you.

Riddle scoffs, a glare hardening his soft, boyish features. You lift a hand before he can defend your honor. Your eyes slide over to Leona, annoyance already clear on your face. You do not feel the need to hide your dislike for him like you might with the others. Leona sure doesn’t hide his. Still, you can’t just be cruel the way you want to.

“If I am a monster for enjoying the food my staff slaved so tirelessly over, then let the kingdom’s best hunters come and take my head as a prize,” you reply.

He grins. A slow, lazy one that is more attractive than you want to give him credit for, and holds his hands up in defense. “I’m just letting you know. Not very attractive – oh, and you have something in your teeth.”

Your face heats up, hands shooting up to cover your mouth with an indignant huff. You quickly wipe at your teeth, feeling humiliated. You were no match for Leona in a game of downright meanness.

Riddle settled his glare at him again, “You could stand to be a little kinder if you want a chance at their hand.”

“I don’t want a chance at their hand,” Leona shoots back. Despite how that should relieve you, your humiliation only grows at the idea that you are not desirable. (You did not want to be desirable, especially not to him, but you cannot control your emotions when they are already high.)

“But your family does,” Comes the cool voice of Azul, sudden and jarring compared to the other competitions. A deceivingly kind smile grows on his face, and he waves his hand in the air as if dissipating your embarrassment like smoke with it. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, the three of you were just so… amusing that I couldn’t help myself.

You sigh, again fiddling with the fingers of your gloves. His words rang in your head, again faced with the fact that you were nothing but a chess piece in the larger game of politics right now. Suddenly, Riddle’s gentle kindness from earlier felt a little more… sharp.

Azul’s lips relax into what you’ve come to know as his deal-making face – though you are sure that if he were to try and make a deal here your brother would execute him without a second thought. “A little kindness to our dearest benefactor couldn’t hurt. They are, by all means, the key to our future success. They deserve at least respect for that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leona drawls, slumping into his seat, “I’ve heard the whole song and dance. Being a suck-up isn’t gonna help your case any more than me though. Credit where credit’s due, they’re damn perceptive for being so sheltered.”

Something more akin to a sneer than a smile climbs its way onto your face, “Oh, thank you so much. How kind, Prince Leona. I’m flattered, truly.”

“Is something the matter down there?” Your brother called. Your side of the table fell quiet, a chill running over you all (except Leona, who was never bothered by your brother's icy demeenor).

Used to the cold feeling climbing up your spine, you recovered the fastest, a sweet smile gracing your face, “No, not at all Your Majesty. We were just discussing the arrangement between ourselves.”

He hums, staring you down. You do not break, like you know he wants you to. You would not bend. You could not. You had to show him you were capable, now more than ever.

Finally, he smiles, “Perhaps that would be good for all of us – to discuss why you are participating in this game for my beloved younger sibling’s heart?”

Your lips pull up into a lopsided smirk. So this was the game your brother was playing at. Force them to lay their cards on the table to start, while yours stayed close to your chest. It explained why he was so secretive about everything, and while you did not like being a pawn in his scheme, you could understand his methods. Masterful planning, as usual. Your frustration at his lack of communication is watered down by how impressed you are.

“Well, Princess, since you are the hand to be won, who would you like to hear from first?” Vil asks, all smiles as if he wasn’t playing a game of mental chess this whole time.

If you wanted to succeed in this whole… suitor business, you had to be smarter. Faster. More precise.

“Ah, there are so many lovely options here. Where shall we begin?” You hum, feigning thought as you gazed across the table, then finally landed on Leona.

“Well… since I was already discussing it, I’ll start with these three gentlemen!” You exclaim.

Leona sighs, annoyance clear on his face. The other two seem to accept their fate rather willingly, ready to come up with their noble (or not-so-noble) reasons as to why you should give them the time of day. ‘The princess is kind, pretty, intelligent– blah, blah, blah’ the usual. You had no intent to actually let them speak to start. So you tutted at them.

“Don’t worry, I won’t put any of you on the spot,” you hum sweetly, “See, I did a bit of digging, just to see what I could find, and did I find.”

You decide the least noble of the three would be put on the chopping block first, “Leona has no real stake in this fight for my hand. He does not like me, he does not have any real bearing on his kingdoms welfare, and quite honestly there’s very little gain that the Sunset Savannah can earn from an arrangement between itself and our kingdom… except political prowess. To marry into our family would give them even more power and control than they already have, but they don’t need it nearly as badly as others at this table. Is that right, Leona?”

Leona huffs out of his nose, clapping slowly at you, bemused by your straightforwardness. If there was one thing you did like about Leona, is that he acquiesced when he knew he had to. He was prideful, but he did not let it get in the way of his presentation, and that was refreshing compared to other royalty. “Spot on, princess.”

“Now… Riddle,” you say thoughtfully, “You are a political pawn for whatever your mother wants, and right now she wants power. Much like Leona, you are here to better your standing among the other kingdoms and give your cabinet more moving room in this metaphorical game of chess. The Rosedom is already incredibly close with us, however, so I can only imagine the lack of movement stems from low funds?”

He nods, eyes narrowed in something akin to embarrassment and annoyance. Unlike Leona, Riddle’s and his Kingdom’s pride was everything to him, and you are afraid you might’ve squashed it – along with any friendliness that had been there earlier. “That is… true. We are going through a horrible economic depression, and this arrangement would, hopefully, help us climb out of it.”

“Speaking of money…” you point to Idia, who looks like he might’ve pissed himself then and there, “your family owns STYX?”

He nods, eyes watering and wide, like you were pointing a gun to his head. He is nothing like the man who borderline threatened you in the library some weeks ago, and the power rush you get from scaring him is a little too satisfying.

“I’m not exactly sure what you do there. I assume it’s magic-related, knowing your family history, and it likely isn’t cheap. I also understand our… ahem… former magic research team was one of the best in Twisted Wonderland. I can only imagine that your family sent you here for money and better resources?”

He whimpers, and you take that as a resounding yes, shifting your focus to Kalim, who greets it with a wide grin. It makes you wonder, briefly, why there is even a debate about who you might marry in the first place. Kalim is kind, generous, rich, and incredibly handsome. Not to mention that servant Jamil of his is rather… charming. (The romanticist in you cannot help but imagine midnight trysts and forbidden love). Then you recall the horrible tales of attempted assassinations and remember why you never visited the Scalding Sands to begin with.

“I remember reading somewhere that your father was looking for more direct trade routes?” You ask aloud.

He nods, confirming it with all the delight in the world, “The route Father has takes nearly two weeks, and many of the goods can easily be stolen in the dangerous territory on the outskirts of our kingdoms.”

“It would half the travel time and double profit,” You add smartly, “not to mention it eliminates the worry of marrying you off to someone who might want to kill you and your family. On top of that, we are already friends, so we could skip the pesky getting to know each other part of all this.”

His grin manages to widen, which charms you in a way only someone like him could. If only there were no major risks to your livelihood…

Your eyes flit over to Azul, who gives you a kind, placid smile. Fake, you think. Azul Ashengrotto was a mystery to you, despite knowing he had his claws (or, well, tentacles) in your kingdom's marketplace for years. He came out of nowhere from the deep sea with his two lackeys, and you hadn’t been rid of him. However, he had never bothered you until now.

“You are… an unexpected suitor, Azul.” You state plainly.

“My apologies. I did not mean to inconvenience you,” he hums back, disgustingly kind.

“No, no, it makes things more interesting,” you dismiss with an equally kind smile, “the only thing I can imagine you would want is connections and power. Marrying a royal makes you one by default which means you can expand your business in ways that you could never do beforehand. Though, I’m sure you could find a way without me.”

His smile cools into a more tense one, though he does not do anything more. Finally, you are faced with Malleus, who is smirking in interest at your tirade. You know very little of Malleus. You know very little of Fae. You do know, however, too much about politics. With this, you can reasonably infer a few things about this arrangement for your horned suitor.

“Prince Malleus Draconia of The Valley of Thornes is, perhaps, my most interesting choice among you all,” you begin, rubbing your chin thoughtfully, “From what I know, your Kingdom has plenty of influence, more than enough money, and a very strong army. You don’t need our connections, you have no benefit economically, and human soldiers would be a laughable offer to you. So, what, could you want from this?”

The table is silent as you mull it over, many of the men equally curious as you are. (Sans Leona, of course, who would rather die than think about Malleus for more than a few seconds at a time). You cannot think of anything Malleus or his kingdom would gain from an alliance with humans, but he must need something. Your eyes glance over your brother and you notice, for just a second, a moment, something akin to nervousness crosses his face. Idia, you realize, also appears to have a knowing nervousness in his eyes.

Then, all at once, you connect it. It’s magic. It’s those monsters Rook is hunting. Malleus needs human help, for some reason, with those monsters. You can’t voice that, of course, because your brother can’t know that you know. So, you come up with something on the fly.

“You need connection. Not for power, but because you want it,” you say finally, “not to say you are lonely… perhaps you just wish for a different kind of connection? Human connection?”

His smirk slides into an impressed smile, posture somehow more straight, and eyes lighting up in delighted approval. You hate to admit that he is quite handsome when he is charmed like this. “Yes, exactly. You are very observant, and much more thoughtful than I have given you credit for.”

“Ah… thank you…” you say slowly, doing your best not to show your annoyance at the unintentional jab to your intellect.

“I have read many books about humans and their behaviors. Their social habits, interests, abilities, and their kingdoms all fascinate me. I wanted a chance to come here and befriend some of you,” he admits rather willingly, and you find it rather cute how honest he is. Oh- wait, you’re supposed to dislike him! Stay stubborn!

“Well, I am honored that you chose me,” you say kindly, an overused platitude that always seemed to say enough when you needed it.

“Your observations are impressive,” your brother finally speaks up, and you can tell there is a thing of worry deep in his eyes, “truly… I have no idea when you had the time to gather this information.”

“People talk. In the city, the castle, the courtyard. If you listen, you learn,” you state simply.

You know you are a prize to be won, you understand that you cannot stop that. What you can do is make it as difficult as possible for everyone else involved, and that is exactly what you will do. Kindness is a weapon in this game, and you will not be cut by soft words and gentle gestures.

So the dinner continues on, now with the knowledge that you are also playing their game. That you, perhaps, are several steps ahead of them. The tenseness does not subside, but neither does the conversation. You discuss politics with Riddle, your love of board games with Azul and Idia, food with Kalim, and even snark back and forth about your families with Leona. Malleus, for all its worth, discusses his enjoyment of your castles architecture, and you promise to show him the gargoyles near the south exit sometime during his stay.

It is… pleasant. Normal. A relief from all that has been stressing you. Despite the looming thought that all of this is for the show, you enjoy yourself as much as you can afford. Once all of you have eaten your fill, your brother gives another delightful speech, and you are all dismissed back to your quarters for the night. Except, your company this time is Riddle, not Epel.

“Oh! I forgot to ask, those horse riding lessons, are they still on the table?” you ask excitedly.

He blinks, clearly taken aback, but recovers quickly, “Ah, yes, those. Of course, I would not offer something and not mean it.”

You smile, “How gentlemanly.”

“It’s common courtesy,” he rebukes.

“Not many people around here know what that means, so it’s refreshing to see that you do,” you state simply, enjoying the way his face heats up, “Would you… like to meet my horse?”

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought you had no expertise?”

“I don’t, but I do have a horse,” you laugh, “she’s my mother’s horse's daughter – a little confusing, I know.”

He laughs, a genuine one, “You want to introduce me tonight? Is it not late?”

You frown a little, evading your gaze, “I… rarely sleep well anyway. It would be a nice distraction if you’d allow me?”

He does not say anything else but nods as if his mind is made up. You walk to the stables side by side, comfortable quiet overcoming both of you. You’ve realized you do not need too many words with Riddle, which is nice compared to how many words you’ve come to need with everyone else. He is quiet as he slides open the door to the stables, and he is quiet and you lead him to the stable you know holds your girl.

You know that she is spoiled and well cared for, her glossy black coat and braided mane enough to tell you that. She is ridden frequently enough by visitors and trainers, so she is well-behaved when you reach in to let her sniff your hand. It takes her a moment, but somehow, she recognizes you and presses her nose against your palm.

“She is beautiful,” Riddle mutters, clearly not meaning to say it out loud.

“I know, such a shame that I can’t ride her,” you laugh, “humiliating actually. What princess doesn’t know how to ride a horse – her own horse even?”

He tuts at you, moving to slide the stable door open, excitedly observing her physique. She does not jerk away when he touches her, which only seems to excite him more. It’s cute, you think, but you don’t want to ruin his moment by voicing it. Finally, he sighs and turns to you with a… pitying look.

“It is not… a secret that you are sheltered – even more than I was. I can’t blame you for not living a normal life when you were not allotted it, and I think you should be kinder to yourself as well,” he responds.

You don’t know what to say to that. What could you say to that? You knew your childhood and life as it was, was not normal. Not even normal for being the princess of a powerful kingdom. Other royals were afforded more freedom – even Kalim who constantly had a bounty on his head was allowed to do more, to see more, to be more than you. You just never liked to think about it, and you still didn’t want to. Not yet, anyhow. Not with everything else on your mind.

“I appreciate the advice, Riddle,” you sigh finally, which relieves him of the tension that was steadily growing in his shoulders.

He rubs the side of your horse, patting her affectionately. She huffs, turning away from him. It’s a funny sight, to see such a big thing cower from a small man. You do not hide your amusement this time, stepping into the stable with him. He smiles softly at you, beckoning you closer, and then he hands you a brush from a bucket.

“A good way to build trust between rider and horse is to spend quality time together,” he explains, “while you don’t have much time together yet, we can start tonight by brushing her.”

He positions himself behind you, keeping a respectable enough distance between your bodies, then guides your movements across her strong body. You try not to pay attention to the warmth emanating off your bodies, or how his touch is so gentle on top of yours. You try to convince yourself that this positioning is necessary for the task at hand, that he is just being kind. (You are certain that Riddle is not the type to lead unsuspecting young princesses into dark stables for nefarious purposes.) You glance back to look at his face, which is red hot and does not make you feel any better.

“Are there… benefits for brushing a coat so short?” you ask, trying anything to take your mind off your predicament.

“Several.” his breath is hot against your face, “despite the coat being short, it helps keep the skin healthy and removes any debris that could harm the horse in the long run.” you despise yourself for speaking in the first place, “It also allows the rider to do a checkup to ensure everything is fine physically.” You curse the Seven for allowing you to be so stupid, “And, of course, it is often used as a means of strengthening your bond with the horse.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Fascinating.”

He steps away after you are thoroughly hot and bothered, sighing to himself about something or other. You were too caught in your head to eavesdrop this time. Eventually, you set the brush back where you saw him grab it from, brushing off your silk gloves, then groaning as you realized you were still in the dress. The bottom of it was covered in dirt, and your gloves had bits of horse hair stuck in it.

“Perhaps the stables were not the best idea…” you sigh, pulling at the hair in your gloves.

Riddle grins, “I think you’re right. My shoes are disgusting.”

“I don’t even want to check mine,” you groan.

You share a laugh, hearty and good, then dust yourselves off and wander your way to the fountain which is not too far from the stables. You discuss your love for sweets and learn of his affection for the guards he had brought with him – including Ace and Deuce, which surprised you with how harsh he was on them. It was tough love, of course, because contrary to popular belief Riddle Rosehearts was not a monster.

Reaching the fountain, the two of you settle upon its lip. From here you can see the exit where you’re meant to meet Rook. Your heart stutters at the thought. Because you were seeing Rook again or because you were meant to learn magic under your brother's nose… that was yet to be decided. Maybe it was both.

“You are a hunter, yes?” Riddle asks suddenly, gaze following yours.

“I…” You hesitate, no you weren’t. Not anymore… not technically. “Not really. I used to be, and I was good. But these past few years my brother all but banned me from doing so.”

He hums, “From what I’ve heard, that hasn’t stopped you at all.”

You feel your face heat up. What happened on your birthday was sure to get around, but no one had been bold enough to bring it up to you yet. You should feel proud of your little rebellion, but you felt almost shameful. “It was… a last hurrah. That's all.” Besides, you think, after seeing the blot monster you’d rather not go hunting. Not without magic, at least. Ah, yes, magic. You were meant to ask him about that, hmm?

Truthfully, the idea of asking about magic was scary, because your brother had made it that way. But… all of your suitors were powerful magicians. Magic was natural to them, which helped ease their worries a bit. “You’re… a magician, right? Ace and Deuce mentioned it once.”

He hesitates. Clearly, he was aware of the rule your brother implemented and withheld, but he was not a liar. “...I am. I’ve been practicing since I could walk.”

You nod, pulling at the fabric of your dress, “Is it… does it hurt? To perform spells and such?”

He shakes his head quickly, almost incredulous at the suggestion, “Magic is harmless – not harmless, I suppose, but it does not harm the user.” He huffs in disbelief, “I was aware you didn’t practice magic, but I assumed you knew the basics.”

You shake your head, “What I was taught I’ve practically forgotten.”

He sighs, “I can’t believe that… how long has it been since then?”

You shrug. You don’t know. One day your parents were gone, and with them your magic professor and most other magic-related items in the castle. “My brother…”

“Is a giant prick?” A voice came from the bushes nearby, and with it emerged Leona. Does he… never sleep in his room?

“What in the world are you doing?” Riddle questions before you can.

“Wasn’t feeling like going back to my room yet,” He says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, “I was enjoying my nap until you two interrupted.”

“This is my garden, Leona.” You state, and he shrugs. “Also, don’t talk about my brother like that.”

“He is a prick. A royal asshole,” he repeats, “everyone thinks it. I know you do too.”

Riddle nods, surprisingly agreeing with Leona, “While I wouldn’t put it like that, your brother is… unpleasant most times.”

“Too much influence and power got to his head,” Leona emphasizes with a sharp point to his head, “he makes everyone around him miserable, even his own family.”

You huff, glaring down at the muddied edge of your dress. He was right. You were miserable and the only one to blame was your brother. He’d conditioned you well too, wanting to defend him. Though… part of that was just because you wanted to argue with Leona.

“And since we’re talking about it, his thing with magic is… insane!” He exclaims, with the most emotions you’d ever seen from him. “I don’t need magic to function, no one does, but to withhold that from an entire kingdom might be his worst offense.”

Riddle adamantly nods along to what he says, “It’s incredibly hypocritical as well. He uses magic all the time, but he keeps it from everyone except a select few. Even sending raids to rid the city of magic every few months. It’s the most extreme abuse of power I’ve seen, and I’m my mother's son.”

You… were not aware of these raids. Sure, magic use was prohibited, but… how many of your citizens had been put away and punished for it. None, you hoped, but hope hadn’t gotten you very far recently. Sevens, you could feel your blood boil.

“The only thing worse is that he invited that stupid reptile Malleus,” Leona growled, “No one likes him, he’s not wanted.”

Something about his attitude makes something… click in your brain. You could use this. You needed more allies you could trust within the castle walls. Their disdain for your brother was proof enough that they were not under his thumb.

“He’s up to something,” you declare, drawing both sets of eyes to you.

“Well no duh–” Leona starts, but you cut him off quickly.

“No. He’s doing something far more dangerous and serious than usual,” You clarify, “And he’s using me – my hand in marriage – as a cover-up. A reason to get powerful people here.”

“Oh yeah…?” Leona quirks a brow.

“If he… was planning something big, and he wanted powerful people, why wouldn’t we know about it already?” Riddle asks, suspicious of the whole idea.

“Because he needs you to make it look more natural.” You answer simply.

Leona chews on the idea for a while, and then smirks, “Clever bastard. She’s right.” Riddle hums curiously, “Think about it. If he just invited Malleus or Idia, it would’ve been suspicious. We’re all cover-ups for whatever the hell he’s planning.”

“Exactly!” You exclaim, standing and turning so you can face both of them, “And, I have an idea of what exactly he’s up to.”

Riddle watches you intently, and Leona gestures for you to go on. Your chest hums at the approval. Finally. Respect you deserve.

“Now, Leona, you’re going to laugh and I’m going to ignore you,” You express, “You know those ink monsters from our fairytale books, it has something to do with those.”

Leona rolls his eyes, “I told you, those aren’t real. They’re kiddy tales to scare people like you off.”

Riddle, to your shared shock, hushes him. “Let them speak, you oaf.”

You take a deep breath, smile at him, and continue, “I know they’re real because I saw one. I killed one myself the night I stood Malleus up at my party.” While you didn’t exactly kill it, you decide the details are trivial, “Whatever’s going on, it has to do with those… things. I know it, and I have to figure out whatever it is without my brother knowing.”

Leona scoffs, but Riddle thinks it over, deeply, “You really believe her? Could’ve been a big scary bear.”

“May I remind you of the grizzly head in our library? Who do you think did that?” You snap back. Riddle is quick to end the argument before it gets too intense.

“Many of our hunters, our very best come back with stories of inky beasts. Some are so taken by their fear that they refuse to step foot in the forest again,” Riddle explains as he thinks it over, “So, with that in mind, they very well could be real. It would be too convenient for it to be mass hysteria, and I doubt so many hunters would come back with the same description of these monsters if it were some elaborate lie.”

Hope blossoms in your chest. Yes.Yes! Someone is listening. Someone understands! Leona sighs, not quite defeated, but not as skeptical as before. He seems… annoyed more than anything as he speaks.

“One of my retainers back home – Ruggie, you know him,” you do know him. You like Ruggie. “He came back one day whining about some… inky… thing he saw out picking dandelions or something. I thought he was just losing it… but- Anyway, even if they are real, what can we do about it?”

“Magic,” you state simply, “it can only be defeated by magic. You can widdle it down with physical attacks, but the only way to kill it is magic. I have a feeling the situation is much more out of hand than we expect, which is why my brother is being so hush-hush about it.”

Riddle nods in agreement, “Inviting Idia should be proof enough of that.”

“Okay, so we got that figured out,” Leona interrupts, “what benefit is it for us to get in the way of your brother? He’s got it under control.”

You frown. Sure, it looks like that, but knowing your brother… it probably was far out of control. That's why he was doing what he was doing, to get control. But diplomatic relations can only get you so far. A little selfish part of you also just wanted to prove yourself too.

“The more people working on a problem the better,” Riddle saves with precision, “the more angles we come at the issue with, the less likely it is to get out of hand. No matter the methods.”

You smile at Riddle for the millionth time that night, and nod in affirmation, “And, if you help me, I can help both of you.”

“How’s that?” Leona scoffs.

“First, I can essentially make any semblance of this marriage thing disappear for you, and give your family what they want,” you explain, “You don’t have to work, and you don’t have to deal with your brother scolding you. Riddle will be given sufficient funds and resources to help the Rosedom get back on its feet. You can’t lose.”

He tenses his jaw, flexing it back and forth as he thinks it over. With Leona, there’s no promise he’ll say yes, but there's no promise he says no either. Finally, he sighs, “Alright, fine. I’ll help you, but only when I want to.”

“Deal!” you exclaim, “Riddle?”

“I’ll help you. It benefits both of us, regardless of any reward you give me after the fact,” He answers.

You grin, and as if the world itself was bending to your whim, the clock tower tolled midnight. Perfect timing for an escape.

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