#because that's not a pairing you see very often

[primalsharkman]

Sweet and Spicy

Jo Yuri x M Reader | 🔞 Smut

[idol x manager, she wants u lil bro]

Word Count: 3,654

As you sat down at your bed, in your small studio apartment, taking in the long day you just had, you take stock of everything you had been going through these past few months.

For once in your crappy life, you found a way to turn your quiet days into a job, applying for literally anything on the market. That was when a friend of yours, Jo Yuri, yes, Yuri from IZ*ONE, well, used to be IZ*ONE, found you submitting your resume at the small company she works at.

Intrigued by your looks, she asked the people that was managing her at the time what you were doing there, and they explained that you were applying for a job. Not soon after, there were online calls, and sit-down interviews, and then they gave you the job.

It was a little stressful at first, that's only because you didn't really know what you were doing. All you were told by the people regularly working with Yuri is to just follow her orders and take notes from her old manager, who was going to pursue a new career, and took you under his wing as he guided you to her everyday routines and activities.

You eventually learned how to handle Yuri, from her breakfast, her choice of coffee, towards the end of the day where you make sure she's back at her place safely.

As for Yuri, it never really hit you how soft and sweet she really is. You take care of her very often, and she often reminds you how grateful she is. It's a very difficult job, but Yuri makes it a hundred times easier.

You smiled to yourself as you got ready to sleep, took your phone to scroll through some reels, a text popped up on your screen, it was Yuri.

"U awake?"

You didn't hesitate to reply back, "Yeah, what's up?"

"I'm feeling lonely... :("

"Oh, do you want me to come over?"

"Bring some ramen and fishcakes too please :3"

"Alright, I'll be there in 10"

And just like that, you compromised your comfortable position in bed, and got up again to get your keys and wallet. You grabbed a fresh hoodie and wore some jogging pants before going out to the nearest convenience store to buy Yuri her ramen and fishcakes.

You didn't even think twice, you just went to the convenience store, picked up the food and drove right ahead to her place.

The stairs going up to her apartment were very long, so thank god the elevator is working. After pressing the button and waiting, you were left there with your thoughts. That's when it hit you: You've never been alone with her.

Sure, there are moments during the job which required the two of you to be alone, such as car rides, airplane rides, or the few minutes at the backstage dressing room where all the stylists have gone out and it was just the two of you. But, you two were never left alone in this capacity, in a very private setting, for quite some time, given she invited you over to eat as well.

Shaking away these thoughts were the ding signifying the elevator was there, and along with it, the doors opening. Stepping inside, was just you. As the doors closed, your fate was slowly sealed for the rest of the night.

Another ding rang out, this means you're on her floor now, which meant it was time to step out of the elevator. Carrying the bag of food she requested, you simply walked along the hallway, looking for her door. And then you saw it, Room 1029. This was her door.

The doorbell beside was already calling your name, and you took the chance to press it, where the chime of the bell had echoed in her apartment, making her leave the bed and walk towards her door to let you in.

As she opens the door, you were quite shocked to see what she was wearing. She had her hair tied in a clamp, she wore a black camisole that hugged her top and showed a little bit of her cleavage, and paired with that are black bike shorts, it made it seem like her white legs were greeting you with a smile, and on top of that, she was wearing cute fluffy bunny slippers that completed her look.

"Hi, come in. Thank goodness you're finally here, i'm kinda starving." She said that with a smile, which you can consider a smirk, but you paid little attention to the detail.

"Thank you, I'll cook your ramen, can you point me to the kitchen?" You say as you take your shoes off and set it aside.

"It's right over there, thanks a lot!" She says that with a beam of sunshine on her face.

She offered you some fluffy slippers as well, so you took it. After wearing them, it really is super comfortable, and it made your bare feet feel like it was already in bed.

Going straight to her kitchen, you took out the ramen packs and boiled some water. Yuri went by your side, touching your arm in the process.

"Aren't you wondering why I felt lonely?"

"I was thinking you'd tell me later."

"Well... it's a bit of a long story, but I'd really love to tell you why."

It was almost like teasing, the way her tone sounded during those words. You could only nod as a response, still being clueless as to what Yuri was trying to do, and it made her a little needy, seeing her manager being aloof, trying to bring his walls up to deny her advances. But Yuri hasn't started yet.

"I wanted some good times. My old managers were female, but they provided me whatever I needed, sending over some, company." Yuri is rubbing her palm up and down your arm now.

"Good times? What does that mean?" You ask, confused by what she meant.

"It's a very lonely industry, I used to be in a group, so I was never really alone back then, but these days, I find myself more and more lonely, and I've been looking for people to... spend time with."

"So me? Your manager?"

"Ah... but you could be more than just my manager." Yuri winks.

You take the ramen and pour it out on two bowls, and prepare her fishcakes as well. "Like what?"

She takes the pot from you, and puts it down gently on the sink before walking back and caressing your chest.

"I'd be happy to show you later, oppa."

The tension in that room really went high once she said that word in a sultry tone. It was getting really dangerous, and it could boil at any minute, and it made you scared. If things did happen, you could get fired, and that'll be the least of your problems.

"Ah... Yuri, the food is ready..." You look away, staring at the prepared food beside you.

She smirks and takes her hands off of you. "Okay, let's have a warm meal first."

You breathe a sigh of relief as the both of you bring the food to the small dining table nearby, and she deliberately sat beside you, in a very close manner.

She takes a sip of the noodles, and hummed in delight. "Ahh... you got the delicious ones, this is great!"

"I like this brand too. It's my hangover meal."

She raises her brows with a smile. "You drink heavy, oppa?"

There she goes again. It just hits a nerve within you, and every time she says it you just want to throw yourself out the window before you do anything stupid.

"No... just casually... when there's an event."

"I see." She says as she goes back to sipping her noodles.

The tension is higher than ever now. It was very difficult nursing a raging boner in your pants while hearing her say those words, thank goodness she hasn't looked down yet.

Unfortunately for you, that's exactly what she's going for. You try to stay focused, sipping on your ramen and praying to god she's not planning any more funny stuff. But Yuri was planning for more funny stuff, and she looked down to see a bulge on your pants, and she smiled to herself knowing that she has won, without even laying a finger on you.

In your head, everything was circling and you were getting dizzy thinking about a lot of things. All the clearer and innocent thoughts have been thrown out the window, and you think back to the way she answered the door for you earlier, with nearly everything just exposed, and it got your cock twitching with excitement while you desperately try to think about something disgusting to remove that boner before Yuri says anything about it.

"Is there a phone in your pants, or are you just excited to see me?" Yuri smiles and traces her fingers along your thighs, dangerously close to your crotch, then you freeze.

There was no response. Your brain has short-circuited, and the neurons that your brain was supposed to send to your mouth to start talking has been neutralized by this girl, your supposed boss, who has her hand inching closer, and closer, nearing the inevitable part of touching that raging boner you had been hiding, and as time slows down, her pinky got there first.

She had a small feel of your cock. Albeit far from actually touching your cock, she was there. She was still inching, until her entire hand was laid there on top of your crotch, and she was smiling.

"Oppa, are you okay?" She asked, smiling, hoping to break you out of your frozen trance.

"Yuri..."

She stood from her chair, leaned to your side, and wrapped her arms around your neck before she whispers, "Why did you have to wear such a thick fabric tonight? This would've been so much easier."

"I'm not sure... how to respond, Yuri. What are you doing to me...?"

She breaks a smile as she kisses your cheek, "It's pretty obvious. I called you over because I'm lonely, and I needed a man to fuck me. And you are so hot oppa, I've been wanting you ever since you applied for this job, I wanted them to hire you, and I have been waiting until you're comfortable enough to come to my home, and use my body as you wish."

Your cock had viciously twitched, and it really hurt for it to be in your pants, and that was all the response Yuri needed from you.

"Come on, let's go to my room, get these clothes out of the way." She giggles as she says it.

"W-wait... I might get fired."

"For what? Doing your job?" She smiles again as she takes your hand in hers.

"This... is part of the job?" You look at her with an eyebrow up, confused.

"Your job includes taking care of my every need, and right now, I need you. Don't worry, okay? Everything will be okay, I promise."

"None of this will get out?"

"I should be the one asking you that, cutie." Yuri smiles again, that damned smile.

It finally makes you crack a smile, and you wholeheartedly embrace the situation you are in, so you lean in slowly and kiss her.

She returns the kiss with a strong fervor, and cups your cheeks as she deepens the kiss. Your hands roam around the side of her body, before landing on her hips, hugging her figure and pulling her closer to you.

Yuri moans in the kiss, and this made you hungrier, more needy, and started kissing her with a burning passion, and those touches on her hips turn into something more of a primal instinct, you grabbed her ass, and carried her. In turn, Yuri wrapped her legs around you as she got even deeper into the kiss, whining and moaning while you try to walk towards her room with Yuri pointing out where to go.

Once you were in front of her door, fiddling with the doorknob, Yuri laughs at you cutely and you give her a sly smile, before finally looking down and opening the door to her room.

Her room is pretty cluttered, pink walls, with her dressing table with a vanity mirror attached to it, a lot of makeup products scattered on the table, her hair dryer splayed on the chair, and some clothes hanging on the chair itself. There is another table across, her laptop right there, along with some pens and paper, you're assuming she's studying something, going to online classes.

Then there's her bed, it's a really comfortable looking bed, with weighted blankets, and a lot of stuff toys on the pillows, since they all look so different, you can assume that those are the gifts she's received from fans over the years.

You walk her towards the bed and plop her down, and she starts clearing her bed out, taking her plushies and stuffed toys and tossing it towards the chair near the bed, stacking them on top of each other. You sat on her bed, waiting for her to finish, and she flashes you a quick giggle while she's clearing her bed out, which earned a sweet smile from you.

Once she was done, she took a pillow and placed it on the floor in front of you, before kneeling on it, "I think you deserve something from me, after I really made your life hard." She says as she moves her hands towards the band of your thick sweatpants and pull it down slowly, along with your boxers, revealing your throbbing cock, which earned a relieving gasp from you, finally letting it breathe after getting set free.

"Ooh..." Her fingers wrap around your length, as she takes into stock the girth of it all, looking at it up and down while she slowly strokes your cock to understand its length.

The way her fingers are moving elicits a low moan from you, it feels like she knows where to hit you, and it feels really good. She hasn't even done anything that's going to break you just yet.

"It's quite big... but I think I can take this." She closes her eyes and places small kisses on the frenulum, trailing them downward, and takes your balls into her mouth, while stroking your length slowly. Her eyes drift from appreciating the length of your cock towards your eyes, making eye contact with you.

You see the hunger in her eyes, as she takes your balls gracefully and using her other hand to grip you properly and stroke you well, and damn does it feel so good with every single lick, and every single stroke with her hand just feels like heaven.

It's pretty obvious that she has done this before, the way she knows how to jerk you off, her licks on your underside with just enough pressure, her thumbing your frenulum while she spits on the head of your cock to make everything feel wetter and so much better.

Twitch after twitch, she notices you gripping her sheets, trying not to cum right then and there.

"I know I'm that good but, already?" She smiles and lets your cock go, leaving you with an empty feeling and thrusting into the air wanting for more.

"You're cute, oppa. I'll suck your cock, but promise me not to cum, okay?"

"Okay..."

She puts her hands behind her back, smirking and taking in the head of your cock in her mouth, without a single touch. She slowly lowers herself, deeper and deeper into your cock, until her nose touches your pelvic area, and her beautiful mouth has enveloped your cock.

You were struggling, you could feel her throat opening and closing on your cock and it's unbelievably difficult to maintain your composure, doing your best not to bust right then and there. You keep your hand right above her head, wanting to touch her and hold her right there but you freeze, your hand just shaking in the air while your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.

Yuri slowly comes back up, and you feel the cool air on the base of your cock again, but it didn't last long as she starts bobbing her head faster, sucking your cock passionately and trailing her eyes towards you.

Looking at you just made her want to break you more, sucking your cock faster, and finally using her hands to fondle your balls at the same time.

The pressure and the pleasure of her blowjob is making you moan so loud, her spit trailing down the length of your cock, down to your balls, her chin, and the floor underneath.

"Yuri... oh my fucking god... I don't think I can last any longer if you keep that up."

She suddenly stops, edging you, and smiles as she wipes the drool off her chin and giggles, "Okay, I'll stop now."

"W-what...?"

"You can't cum yet. I still need you hard."

"But.. I'm so close..."

"Nope. You promised not to cum yet." She smiles and stands, taking her pillow and dusting it off before tossing it back on the bed.

"You're mean."

"Am I?" Her camisole comes off, revealing a cute pair of tits, and asks you to do the same.

You finally take your hoodie off, as well as your shirt, tossing it across the room with the rest of your clothes. Now it's just Yuri in her shorts, and your eyes are locked towards her boobs.

"Okay oppa, fuck me." Yuri slowly takes off her shorts, tosses it away, and you finally see her pussy, which is unbelievably wet.

You grab her and place her down the bed, spreading her legs and gliding two of your fingers down on her, earning a cute moan.

She grabs your cock, still wet from her spit, and grazes your cock head on her slit, earning louder moans. She tries to insert it herself, being very impatient, and without a care, you plunged it inside her deep.

"Ahh! Fuck!" She moans as your cock slides in easily, fucking her relentlessly without any build-up.

Her arms wrap around your head while you bury your lips into her neck, with her moaning louder with each strong thrust.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Don't stop! Keep going hard! Yes!" Earlier she was breaking you, and now that you have control, fucking her into delight, you're breaking her.

"Take this fucking cock, Yuri. You love this fucking cock don't you?"

"Yes! I love that cock! Please please please!"

She was creaming down there, getting white cream all over the length of your cock and down towards the bed, she's unbelievably horny, and her legs are shaking again and again, cumming over and over without you stopping, or skipping a beat.

Her eyes have rolled behind her head and her grip on your neck has loosened, her body splayed down the bed taking your massive pounding again and again.

You've managed to hold your cum off now, and you're feeling that familiar feeling down there, and you just can't hold it any longer.

"Yuri... I'm gonna fucking cum..."

"Don't you dare pull out."

"What...?"

"Finish inside me, deep inside, make an even bigger mess than I am making, please."

"I could get in trou-"

"Just fucking cum inside! I'm safe! Please! Ohh my fucking god!"

You feel her pussy tighten and loosen again, signifying that she came for an uncountable number this night, and you finally break, spraying load after load of thick cum deep inside her, mixing with her creamy pussy and making a huge creampie mess right then and there, spilling out of her pussy and leaking on the sheets.

"There... fuck... there..." You say as you fall down beside her, pulling out and letting her the mixed juices of her cum and yours inside her pussy leak down.

"That... was the best creampie I have ever gotten." She pants as she closes her eyes.

You hug her, "We should change your sheets before we sleep..."

"Okay..." She wobbles up, her legs shaking, making you smile, because you did that. You made her cum again and again and now she could barely walk.

You asked where her sheets are and changed everything yourself. Afterwards, you took a towel and cleaned her off before finally going back to bed so you two could cuddle.

"I'm glad you're my manager, oppa."

"You can drop the oppa act now, Yuri, I fucked you already."

"No, I mean it. On top of being a handsome dude, you fuck like a machine, so much better than any guy I've ever had. But I need you to promise something..."

"What is it?" You take her chin and make her look up at you.

"You know that my career is... pretty unstable. I don't get schedules on a regular basis, or even make music a guarantee." She says as you nod.

"Promise you'll stay through the rough times? You've been really good to me, you're an amazing manager and I know you're here for a paycheck, but it would be really great if you stayed."

You plant a kiss on her lips and smile, "Yuri, I'll stay. It times get rough, I'll do anything with you to get a paycheck. I know you're not in a stable position, but we'll get there. I'll help find you opportunities, whether that be a comeback or an acting gig, maybe something else, but I'll stay, for you."

"Thank you." She smiles as she gives you a softer kiss this time.

"I love you." She says one more time before closing her eyes.

"I love you too." You reply. Whatever love means to Yuri, you know you're in for the long haul, whether you like it or not.

-FIN-

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Here you go Glassys, I hope you like this one. If you all want, you could send me some inspiration for fics, pictures or prompts, go ahead. I probably won't do requests, but short inspirations would be awesome. Thanks for the support thus far, and I love you all.

Just keep swimming.

-Shark

[notjustjavierpena]

Needy

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: LONG AGO, @yxtkiwiyxt tagged me in a post about Pedro in a black tee and jeans that reminded her of her hubby. Then this happened. I hope you can forgive the wait.

Summary: Pregnancy comes with horniness.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Pregnancy and hormones, touch-starved, hot sweaty javi, so many pet names in spanish, praise kink, pregnancy sex, light dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, couch sex, slow and intense riding, piv sex, pussy eating, face-sitting, finger-fucking, multiple orgasms, squirting, handjob, pillow talk

Word count: 4.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62563027

Needy

A few months ago, a friend from work had asked you how far along you were in your pregnancy over lunch and snickered knowingly when you said that your second trimester would be ending around now. She had leaned close and whispered in a voice only meant for you that she’d not been able to keep her hands off her husband when she’d entered her third trimester. 

You had scoffed with heated cheeks, embarrassed by talking about your sex life with a coworker, and had not been sure what to say to such a statement. However, at 29 weeks pregnant where only sweatpants and dresses feel comfortable, you find yourself grateful that someone took the opportunity to warn you. Why? Because it’s like an itch that you cannot scratch. 

You want Javier Peña all the goddamn time, not caring whether you will be the cause of rug burn to his poor manhood. You are a caged animal, stalking around restlessly in your enclosure because the confinement makes you stressed out and horny. There’s no time for decorum, no time to keep it together because it’s so torturous to have hormones raging through you that you have two options: Either you get down and dirty, getting fucked by him, or have a hissy fit that results in sobbing after flinging yourself onto the bed (a thing that often results in Javier doing his duty and pulling up the skirt of your dress with polite surrender).

Thankfully, not all days are that bad. Some days, the prickle of your skin and the ache between your thighs are nothing more than a dull sensation in the very back of your mind, a simmer that has a manageable warmth. It means you can take on the day without being on the verge of tears, suffering greatly if you aren’t touched.  

Today, however, is not such a day. 

Javier has been out of the house since sunrise, having kissed you goodbye in the morning in a way that has left you wanting more. His reason for leaving you to yourself all day hasn’t been unreasonable, spending his time as an unpaid ranch hand at his father’s farm. 

Meanwhile, you have been listening to the tick of the clock on the wall, waiting like a damsel in distress for him to come home and save you from the curse your body has you under. You have tried everything to satisfy the devil in you and you’ve gone as far as to keep your phone locked up in your bedroom so you wouldn’t text him to come back early. After all, Chucho has had a rough time during spring, and this summer has called for an extra field hand, a thing he cannot afford to pay for in his retirement. The way Javier is committed to his family is actually one of the things you love most about him, and also why you had convinced yourself that it was fine to have a day to yourself this morning. However, as the sun dips lower on the horizon, it becomes more evident that Javier can never leave this long again. 

Finally, as the evening drags on slowly and the sun starts painting the living room in yellows and oranges, you hear the sound of your husband’s truck pulling into the driveway. Your body responds immediately, your pulse spiking in the anticipation of the moment he walks in the door but there’s impatience in you unlike anything you have experienced before. 

You rush to the window to peer out at him and spot him just in time to see him stepping out onto the stone driveway and slamming the old door shut behind him. A thrill goes through you, a longing to be in his arms immediately and it is so profound that you feel your throat tightening with relieved tears at having him here. 

You cannot wait the minute it takes for him to walk inside, you decide, and so you rush to the front door and pull it open. You rush outside to greet him, your dress swooshing along your knees as you take quick steps. 

The second he sees you, you can feel yourself ready to melt into a puddle. He looks dusty and tired yet still smiles softly as his eyes meet yours. He is just about to greet you when you give him no chance to speak, wrapping your arms around his neck and catching his mouth in a deep, fervent kiss. He rests his hands on your hips and you think you might die if he doesn’t have you right here. 

“I missed you so bad,” you confess in a whine and find yourself unable to stop kissing him. You obscenely nip at his bottom lip, brush your tongue against the seam of his mouth, all the while murmuring in a desperate plea, “Don’t you ever leave your horny wife that long again.” 

When in need of catching your breath, you make the mistake of burying your face in the crook of his neck. You pant already from how worked up you are, your mouth feeling sensitive and swollen already from your make-out session. His scent is of the outdoors mixed with the sweat from hard labor, and as you pull back slightly to gaze upon your man, you see the damp patch on his black t-shirt around his neck, a testament to how gorgeous he has looked as he worked under the sun all day. 

Finally, as he is allowed to take a breath, a low chuckle falls from his mouth. There’s a tinge of desire in his voice as he speaks, “Let’s get you back inside the house, mi amor (my love). I fear what you might do out here.”

“Promise me you’ll fuck me,” you groan against his shoulder, at the mercy of your body and therefore not strong enough to play coy, to tease and make him chase you. You’re all his because his touch is the only remedy for your relentless yearning. 

“Te prometo, mamacita (I promise, mamacita),” he promises. He locks up the car, smiling to himself as he sees you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. When he has pulled the handle a few times to make sure the truck is locked, he urges you to go back into the house.

When you start walking, you feel his broad hand rest on the small of your back and the car keys jingling from his thumb. You have to catch a feeble noise in your throat, your palms laying on your swollen belly to keep them busy. 

Once inside, Javier throws the car keys into a bowl on the side table next to the door. He marches across the room, boots heavy on the floorboards, and then lets himself fall down into the couch with an exhausted grunt. He reaches up to rub his eyes with the heels of his hands, sighing deeply from the satisfaction. 

You follow him around like a puppy would follow its owner, and when he doesn’t make any moves to fulfill your every desire this instant, you take matters into your own hands and show him that you are not playing around when you display your desperation. 

You waste no time straddling him, hiking up your dress enough for the only fabric between him and your core to be the cotton of your panties. It’s visible, the way his mouth goes dry, the way your beautiful pregnant body turns him on in a ridiculously short time. When his left hand touches your hip again and his right rests on your belly, rubbing soothingly, he silences every voice in your head. 

“Mi niña (my girl),” he coos when he has regained his composure and your whole body buzzes. He has a coy smile on his face, “You’re so beautiful up there.”

“How beautiful?” You ask, reaching between your bodies to undo the zipper on his usual jeans to get his cock out. He doesn’t protest, simply lets you take what you need from him until the edge has been taken off. He knows better than to dismiss your urgency when you have been deprived of his dick for an inhumanely long time. Instead, he reaches to slip a finger into the front of your panties and moves them to the side.

“More beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen in all my years on this Earth.” he charms with immediate success because you drag his jeans and underwear down just enough to be able to sink down on his bare cock and with no concern for his gnawing zipper. 

He groans while you gasp, your mouth falling open and your eyes blinking closed at the immediate relief of being stretched out by his generous size. He fits inside of you, large and pulsing against your fluttering walls and you find yourself already moving on top of him. 

“Fuck, you’re drenching me,” he murmurs gruffly beneath you, and yes, you are. Your pussy is soaked for him, squelching obscenely each time it takes him to the brim, “Is this all because of how I left you alone all day? How cruel of me. I made this pussy all wet.”

Usually, you would reply with something but you have been so desperate during the last few hours that you find yourself completely fucked out already. You move faster, greedy for release, and Javier says your name to no avail. 

Suddenly, his hand slides up your forearm and over your shoulder. It settles right at the base of your skull and it holds onto you firmly until you come back to him. He tilts your head so he can lock eyes with you. 

You whimper when his other hand stops your movements on his cock altogether, and it borders on embarrassing when your desperation causes you to tear up, “Please, Javi.”

“You’ve got such a greedy pussy today, mi amor (my love),” he tuts disapprovingly and holds you still. He seems almost like he would be content with just having your warm heat wrapped around him, squeezing him occasionally when you think about what he could be doing.

“I just want you so much, papí,” you moan pathetically and wiggle slightly in his lap. He nods while dragging his nails down your spine, testing you to see if you will behave in the seconds it takes to place his palms on your sides. 

“I know,” he says gently while cupping your waist, “Listen to me.”

You are wide-eyed and at your wit’s end. You’ll do anything to have him make you come. 

“I’m going to make you come on it,” he says and fucks up into you once, nearly making you fall off his lap from the surprise. He steadies you with his hands sliding across your skin to firmly hold onto your lower back, urging you to start rolling your hips back and forth instead of up and down, “And then I am going to make you sit on my face until you come on that too.” 

You swallow thickly, tiny mewls and moans escaping your mouth as you ride him slowly. You thoroughly love it when he directs you, takes care of you, and since getting pregnant, he knows how much you need him to make decisions before you throw a tantrum in your horniness. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He taunts without any meanness behind his words, clutching your body in his grip to keep you from falling into another vigorous pace, “To make your pussy feel good, hm? She happy now?”

“Mhm… Very happy,” you nod with a tiny smile, moving slowly in his lap because he isn’t allowing you anything more. He fills you repeatedly with each movement of your hips over his, the head of his cock threatening each time to slip out of you before he guides you to take him all the way again. It feels like heaven, your orgasm building slowly but steadily instead of rapidly. He knows you so well, knows how disappointing it would have been if it was over too soon. 

“You’re all I thought about today too,” he murmurs against your mouth when you dip down to kiss him, cupping his face and letting your thumbs caress his cheeks before you go further up to tug at his hair. Your hands are made to slide between the soft tufts, just like your body is made to melt into his arms. 

“Te quiero, te quiero, te quiero (I love you, I love you, I love you),” you repeat breathlessly, a little firmer in your pace. His cockhead catches at something just right inside of you and it makes you nearly double over into him. 

“Don’t rush it, mamí,” he tells you gently and maneuvers you to tilt your hips ever so slightly, “It’ll come. You’re so close. Fuck, I love you so much.”

You come so intensely from that slight change of angle that your vision blurs. It is deep and overwhelming, everything below your navel pulling at you before going off into squeezes of pure, indescribable ecstasy. Your voice cracks, your moans pitch, and you can hear Javier’s name tumble from your lips while you repeat just how much you’re there.

“I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming,” you groan with furrowed brows, pulling his face into your chest and feeling him kiss on top of the fabric of your dress. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he moans while you ride it out, “Fuck, I know you are. You’re taking it so fucking well.”

It takes a few long seconds for your climax to start fading. You rock in his lap until you cannot do it anymore, and then you come to a halt with him still settled deep inside you. He rubs your thighs to soothe and draws back a little to look at you while you pant from exertion. 

“Eres perfecta (You’re perfect),” he mumbles with awe, “Did that help, huh?”

You nod with a blissed-out expression, suddenly very aware of how much you were actually in distress because there’s a lightness to your very core. Your cheeks are warm, your heartbeat slowing after having pounded in your chest. 

“Let’s take this off,” he coos, helping you out of your dress completely. You haven’t worn a bra today since your breasts are sore and firm with milk, and so he has you in nearly all your glory while you are warming the length of his still-hard dick too. 

“That better?” He asks again, kissing the bare skin of your upper chest where you feel like you are burning up from not having undressed earlier. Eagerness comes with a price.

“Sí (Yes),” you mumble and inhale his scent while resting your cheek on top of his head. You swirl your hips to make him growl beneath you, “Your turn.”

“You think I’m done with you?” His voice is smug as he stills you on top of him again before his hand rubs along the curve of your pregnant belly, “You think I’d break my promise and let this pussy be all touch-starved? She needs more.” 

“But Javi,” you say with your brain still fuzzy, mind a jungle from how well he touches you. 

“Shut your brain down and take off your panties. I want to take care of my pregnant wife,” he orders with a peck to your slightly parted lips. He groans when you drag yourself off his cock, leaving a wet shine on the smooth skin. It slaps against his belly and forms a dark stain on his black t-shirt. 

You stand, albeit a little wobbly, in front of the couch and shimmy out of your underwear in the most elegant way possible with a pregnant belly. Then you watch him tug his jeans down his thighs and kick them off. He follows it up by ridding himself of his t-shirt too before rearranging himself on the sofa to make it easy for you both. He chooses to lie flat on his back, stretching his body, overworked from today’s farmwork, with a satisfied grunt while he waits for you to climb onto him. 

“Come here, mamacita,” he says when you straddle him carefully. He coaxes you to crawl forward by pushing gently on the back of your thighs. You always worry about smothering him like this, especially when pregnant, but he doesn’t ever complain, actually gets more enthusiastic about it than you. 

“¿Así? (Like this?)” You ask shakily when you hover just above his ravenous mouth. His breath ghosts over your cunt, cooling the slick slightly and driving you crazy. 

“Así, yes, just like that,” he replies. He reaches up and runs his index finger across your clit before spreading you open for his tongue, your body responding with a sharp intake of air, “You want me to touch you here, baby?” 

“Yeah, so badly,” you swallow around nothing and close your eyes, waiting patiently for him to stop his teasing. He is so good at this that the wait is awful.

“Yeah,” he repeats without mocking you, “My gorgeous wife is insatiable.”

Luckily, he doesn’t keep you waiting. His nose nudges you first then his mouth. He kisses your sensitive clit a few times before tensing up his tongue, it feeling silky smooth where you need it the most.

One of his strong hands rests on your swollen belly while the other scratches along the length of your thigh, creating nail marks that he soothes with his rough palm afterward. Simultaneously, his touch makes you relax further and settle more onto his face. 

“Use me, honey. I deserve to be used for how cruel I have been,” he hums below you before he stretches his neck and dives in to practically devour your cunt, You rock yourself back and forth with tiny gasps at the heat already tightening in your belly, his nose catching on your clit with every other grind of your hips to build another orgasm steadily. 

But despite how much he’d claim that he’s not aching to come, you wouldn’t believe it for a second. With a stretched-out arm behind you and your palm on his thigh to steady you, you lean back slightly so your other hand can reach for his still hard and ready cock. You wrap your fingers around him to earn a gasp against your core, the work of his tongue faltering for just a second.

You stroke him with the same hunger that he is showing you, working him to the edge while both of your moans bounce off the walls even if he is muffled by how enthusiastically he eats your pussy at the same time. 

He comes with his lips wrapped around your swollen clit, his body tensing up for a second until it releases with a groan. The sound is so hot that you grind a little harder on his skilled tongue, feeling how he pulses in your hand and coats it in thick stripes of his seed. 

He responds almost gratefully. Both hands settle on the small of your back to pull you forward onto your hands and knees. You try not to get come onto the couch, giggling in surprise through a moan of his name. But the laughter dies in your throat when he holds you firmly in place and slips one hand between your thighs again. 

He pushes two fingers into you while suckling expertly on your clit. You see stars begin to form on your eyelids, almost wail when he makes a come-hither motion towards your belly. 

It’s too much. It’s not enough. 

“I think… Javi, I’m gonna— Stop, I’ll—“ you cry when your thighs start to shake. He doesn’t relent, apparently knows exactly what he wants and he isn’t shy about it like you are. His fingers work fast, enough for your cunt to drool into his palm. 

And with that, you come one more time and the pressure it releases inside of you is so good that it makes you gush all over his chin. Your voice breaks into a high-pitched cry and he holds his fingers against that perfect spot inside of you, keeps them there while your orgasm peaks and you can’t help but apologize for how much you’re wetting his face.

When you think it is over, he drags the digits out slowly and shoves them back in. The pads of his fingers have you hunching over and gasping his name, another gush forcing its way past his fingers. He drinks your come as if he were a man in the desert, desperate and starved. 

You take it like a champ, trying not to squash him with how your thighs tighten around his head during the last few shocks of pleasure that he brings out of you, and eventually, you sag enough for him to help you back down into his lap. 

You are horrified by the sight of him at first, red-faced and bathed in your slick and come. However then you see the glint in his eyes, the lopsided grin that he gives you as he props himself up on an elbow. He is pussydrunk out of his mind. 

“How are you feeling now, mi vida (my life)?” He asks while reaching for his t-shirt with his free hand. He wipes his face with it, his eyes still glazed over with bliss and pride; the combination that only exists in a man who has just made his wife orgasm let alone gush all over him. 

“Forget about me,” you laugh breathlessly and use the t-shirt for your messy hand too, “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Very good,” he sits up to face you and lets you take the t-shirt out of his hands. He looks completely at your mercy, “You’re so fucking hot.”

“I bet,” you find a clean side of the garment to wipe at a spot he has missed then playfully swipe at his nose, “And thank you.”

“You’re welcome, mi amor (my love),” he whispers as he comes closer. He takes your wrist in his hand until you drop the t-shirt and then leans in for a long, drawn-out kiss that has your whole body weak. He guides your hand to his face and mirrors it with his own on your cheek. The look he gives you causes you to chew on your bottom lip, “Lo siento por hoy (I’m sorry about today).”

“You don’t have to apologize for your wife being a little crazy because of hormones,” you brush it off - after all, the aftermath always makes you look back on it and feel silly - but he just rests his forehead against yours and nods. 

“I know but I should have cleared it with you and with the baby, or at least have taken you with me,” he kisses your forehead and you feel how tired you are now, the sweet gesture grounding you even more than sex ever could. 

“As if we could have done anything about my little problem at your dad’s,” you try once again to let it slide. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, content with your naked vulnerability in his presence. 

“I would’ve found a way,” he jokes and earns a slap to his chest but then his tone grows serious. He buries his nose in your hair, “Eres todo para mi. Eres mi vida, mi esposa hermosa, la madre de mi hijo (You’re everything to me. You’re my life, my beautiful wife, the mother of my child).”

“Javi,” you look up at him shyly from where your head rests. He smiles down at you but mirrors your tone to tease and says your name. 

“Hablo en serio (I’m serious). I would do anything for you, mamá,” he adds, “And for our bebé.”

“Even fetch me - I mean us - a snack?” You grin, glowing with fondness for him but feeling nearly overwhelmed by his words in your state of bliss. He knows how much you love him though, knows it especially by how you look at him right now. 

“Especially fetch you a snack,” he wraps his arms around you to hug you tightly, your belly bumping against his, “What does the queen of this household want?”

“A strawberry milkshake?” You suggest hesitantly as if to make the request optional, “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

“A strawberry milkshake!” He repeats enthusiastically and makes you laugh, making the way he detangles himself from you easier even if you want him to never leave your side again.

“Who knew that growing a baby came with having a househusband,” you say while he gets up from the couch and helps you to lie down comfortably. He puts a pillow under your knees and one behind your back. The couch’s mess will have to wait. 

“It’s the full Javier Peña experience,” he leans down over you for one last kiss before he pushes himself to stand up straight once more. He doesn’t look at you as he continues, has already turned his back. You watch the way his muscles flex as he heads for the kitchen, shirtless and only in his boxers, “And I plan on doing it forever, mi reina (my queen).”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[plumeria1]

A moment of peace

Masterlist

Note : I wrote this all at once and couldn't wait to publish it.

Pairing : Vi x Fem Reader

Warning : None

Content : Fluff

Summary : A soft moment after a long day

The day had seemed endless for Vi, and all she wanted was to come home and snuggle in your arms while watching a movie.

She had been disappointed not to find you when she got home, but she took advantage of your absence to take a nice shower and relax.

She was so tired that after drying herself, she didn’t bother to change and just collapsed like a sack of potatoes onto your bed, eventually falling asleep.

Upon your return, after spending the day with a friend, you were eager to see your girlfriend again. You were greeted by the silence of the apartment, but you guessed that Vi was already home since her shoes were near the door.

Upon opening the bedroom door, you understood why there was no noise. Vi was lying on her stomach, sprawled on the blankets, deeply asleep.

You smiled, realizing she must have had a long day. Seeing her like this made your heart melt; she looked so peaceful when she slept, and you found her adorable.

Seeing her in that position softened you; she looked so vulnerable. It was rare to see her in that state, but you knew you had to wake her up because otherwise, she wouldn’t sleep through the night, and the next day would be worse.

You climbed onto the bed and settled yourself astride Vi’s hips, without putting your weight on her to avoid hurting her, and ran your hands along her bare back.

She was pulled from her sleep by your caresses, as soft as feathers, then let out a small moan as she lifted her head.

-Shh, it’s just me.

There was curiosity, but mostly fatigue in her voice when she asked you what you were doing. You took the opportunity to lean toward her and kiss her gently; she felt your breasts press lightly against her back, which made her smile.

-You look like you’ve had a bad day, so I’m helping you relax.

Vi tried to turn around, but you prevented her by gently pressing your hands on her shoulders. Resigned, she let herself go to your caresses, and after a few minutes, your hands left her back, only to be replaced by the tips of your fingers tracing the tattoo that covered her back.

-It tickles.

You could hear the smile in her voice, but it didn’t make you stop.

This tattoo had always fascinated you. You’d never really taken the time to examine it in detail, but you couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. Vi had told you that she got it in prison, but she had never elaborated on the subject, and you hadn’t sought to know more.

When you finally withdrew your hands, you let out a cry of surprise when you found yourself with your back against the blanket, then burst out laughing. Vi had taken you by surprise by switching places with incredible ease.

She calmed your laughter by kissing you tenderly. You placed your hands behind her neck to deepen the kiss, but she decided to rest her head on your shoulder.

-I missed you.

-Did your day go badly?

-No, it was just long.

You stroked her hair while she ran her fingers along your arm. Vi didn’t often show herself like this; you were one of the few people who could see her like that, and fortunately, you also knew what to do in this situation.

-Here’s my plan for tonight: we’ll have food delivered, watch a movie, and spend the rest of the evening cuddling in bed. What do you think?

-I think it’s a very good plan, but I prefer that we start with cuddles.

You knew she probably said that because she simply didn’t want to get up, but you didn’t mind at all. On the contrary, even if you weren’t doing anything, you loved staying in bed with Vi for hours.

Once the evening plan was set, you stayed in bed for another hour until your stomachs brought you back to reality. Vi grabbed some clothes and went to the living room to choose a movie while you took care of ordering the food.

You spent the rest of the evening watching movies and eventually went to bed, satisfied and tired. Once in bed, Vi took you in her arms, and feeling sleep come, you rested your head on her shoulder, falling asleep after a few minutes. Before you fell completely asleep, you heard Vi’s voice.

-I love you.

[caramelcleopatraa]

ALL UP IN YOU MIND

word count: 870

x: ..... hey y'all (,,>﹏<,,) i'm back with sum short and sweet while I'm writing some other stuff. I hope you enjoy :) excuse any errors I didn't catch ~ Cleo

You tried to act like it doesn’t bother you, but every time you see him, your sexual frustration rises. You were bound to explode at some point.

Your body was damn near vibrating. Restraint was your closest acquaintance recently. You sat there and watched him as he accepted business call after strenuous business call. You knew yourself. It was impossible to be in the same space as your husband and not be magnetized to him from the jump. It’s not like it was the only thing you noticed about him. The countless days of work that he’s put in, the stress that comes with maintaining good at his job, especially one that was so demanding like wrestling, and the physical work that has taken a toll on him is something that a lot of people can't handle. You understood what he had to do to even have these moments so that he can come home and relax… well, semi-relax, because those business calls just seemed to keep coming. You never wanted to seem superficial and at the very least, only concerned with sex. But… fuck, sometimes when you saw him relaxing and lounging around the house, taking a shower, or taking care of business. The simplest things were your biggest triggers. You couldn’t count on less than two hands how many times you had gotten hot and bothered over him being stern over the phone, when negotiations were rocky. Seeing him in such concentration just sent you into an enticing spiral that was fun at times, but excruciating in many other situations. Those times when he came home and he wanted nothing more than sleep, or the quiet days of solitude after energy draining events. You found yourself dealing with a puddle between your legs, leading to those suspicious long showers. 

Roman was the best package deal you could’ve ever wished for. A mature man that preferred communication over assumption, paired with the face and body of a god, spoiled the ever living hell out of you, always made sure you were taken care of. Mentally, physically, and sexually. It’s like second nature for him, and he already does so much for you. So you figured you could just deal with yourself when you got too excited. But it started happening so often, you had to tell him. You needed him. Bad. As much as you tried not to burden him with your newly discovered and frankly annoying sex drive, you knew what he could do, how he could make that provocative ache subside. You daydreamed for hours about how euphoric it would feel once he finally put his hands on you. It pays to be selfless, but you wanted him to yourself just for the weekend. All yours, with no distractions. Just you and him.

That’s the position you just put yourself in. Such a conflict of interest. You had wished sometimes when he had heard your moans from inside the bathroom, due to you stopping trying to be quiet, that he would strip down to nothing and join you. But you knew when duty called, it was hard for him to get distracted when he had his mind concentrated on what he was doing.

You had daydreamed what it would be like if you teased him while he was working until he reached his breaking point. How he would never rush you, but be so impatient to take of your silk robe and sit you in his chair while he kneeled before you and ate you out like it was his first time tasting you, hands roaming your legs and up your torso and eventually grabbing your throat with both hands, still eating your pussy until you experience dizzying bliss. And after that, how easy it is for his dick to slip inside of you with his hands still around your neck while telling you how needy you are, and how he can’t wait to fuck your needy pussy. He’d damn near forget that he’s on a business call, unmuting himself to make some lackadaisical excuse as to why he couldn’t stay on, still snatching your soul with his strokes and eye contact that served as a nonverbal command to not make a fucking sound until they hung up. Your eyes would roll as you felt yourself closer to cumming as you worked circles on your clit, listening to his words that made you moan just on their own. 

“Lemme see that beautiful face while you cum all over this dick.”

“You can take that dick baby, don’t tell me what you can’t take.”

“That pussy too damn good baby, got me addicted to you.”

You had blinked your eyes numerous times to bring you out of your daydream, rubbing your temple and letting out a heavy sigh. ”You okay over there baby?”

“How long until you're finished with your phone call?” He points to his phone, laying face down on the desk next to him. “Just got off.”

Your body moved on its own, walking over to him and sitting on top of him with no hesitation, massaging his shoulders softly. “Good, because I really want you daddy. I can’t wait any longer.”

🏷️ tags :) @hunnidmilly @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce

@theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen

@alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae

@fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove

@sassginaswanmills @pixiedust4000

@shes2real @pittieprincess22 @wrestlingprincess80

@msbigredmachine @sayyestoheav3nn @trippinsorrows @mzv11

@saintmagx @jstarr86 @pr3ttiesz @trentybenty @romansthrone

@scarlettnoir01 @tshepisho @rose-bliss @yana3sworld

@queeny23 @bebesobrielo @heauxvibez @amandairene88

@potatosackk

[whereubeenloca]

Hallways

Part 5 of the Neighbor! Reader series: Table of contents

Summary: On your way to work you run into someone new...

Pairing: Carmy x Reader

Tags: VERY slow burn, Awkward, Claire mention

Word Count: 1153

Wanna be added to the tag list? Let me know!

Tag List: @criesinlies

The last few weeks had been cold and your broken radiator didn’t help. As the temperature dropped, it became harder and harder for you to leave the warm confides of your bed. It was nearly 8:45 by the time you stumbled your way out the door, 15 minutes later than you usually leave. You give yourself a quick pat-down, wallet, keys, phone, laptop, ready. Just as you’re about to step out onto the shared staircase, you hear footsteps clamor from above. You smile at the sound of steps, it wasn’t often you ran into Carmy on your way to work. You rack your brain for something to say as he walks by, but the words die on your tongue as you’re met with someone else. 

A woman, a stranger. Long black hair spills down her shoulders, a puffer tightly zipped up to her neck. Her skin is pale, eyes big, cheeks perfectly pink. Your smile drops a bit as your eyes meet. Blue eyes flick to yours, her lips flick up into a polite smile, you’re quick to copy it. 

“Sorry.” The mystery woman says softly, you wave it off as she hurries down the steps and out the front door. 

Who the fuck was that.

—

Your mind races as you speed walk to the “L”, a stone's throw away from little miss whoever that is. Oh god, are you a creep? No. She’s the one who’s taking your route to work. You aren’t even following her. God, she’s walking slow. You can feel yourself getting closer, debating if it would be weirder to pass her or stay behind her. You awkwardly weave around her and quickly cut over to the staircase, unfortunately she follows you onto the platform.

You try not to stare at her while you’re on the subway, training your eyes on the window right next to her. She scrolls on her phone as she sprawls out in her seat, you grip the railing tighter as the train sways. He never mentioned a girlfriend before. That’s because you aren’t friends, dummy. Rude, whatever, ugh. You take a deep breath as the man to your left decides to fill the car with blueberry scented vape smoke. You choke back a cough and what’s-her-face decides to look up from her phone. Suddenly, your shoes are the most interesting thing on the planet. 

What do you care? It’s not like you’re seeing the guy. No, of course not. He’s your neighbor and it’s well within his right to see who he pleases. Obviously. You barely even talk when you think about it. You didn’t even know his name until last month. You have no ownership to this man so why, why, does this feel so weird?

You chance a look and she’s back to her phone. Her legs are spread too far apart for a subway this crowded. Fucking hate when people do that, where is she even going? Nowhere, probably- woah, no. Women supporting women, she didn’t do anything to you. No, but that’s rude. We’re like fucking sardines in here and she’s taking up so much space, inconsiderate, fucking- Suddenly she stands, ushering an old woman who just got onto the train over to her seat. Her smile is bright as she makes polite small talk with the stranger. Your stomach twists as your stop approaches. Asshole.

—

The day was longer than you thought it would be. You ended up being twenty minutes late to work completely frazzled, a half assed excuse on your lips. Your mind buzzes as you stare at your outlook, mindlessly filing emails to pass the time. It’s embarrassing, really. Had you left at your regular time you would be none the wiser. You mourn your blissful ignorance as your co-worker pops her head in to ask yet another question. 

By the time you hobble home you’re dead on your feet. The wind whips your hair around you as you fight your way home from the subway. Flurries of snow dance around your head as you unlock the door and shove your way inside. 

“Woah, hey.” You hear a voice call out as you poke your head in. Carmy. 

“Oh shit- sorry.” You half laugh as he stumbles away from his mailbox to make room for the door. 

“No, no that’s my bad.” He says with a smile, envelopes tucked between his palms. 

The door closes behind you with a loud thunk. You busy your hands with the heavy lock. 

“You, usually home this early?” You ask over your shoulder. 

“Nope. Renovations.” He beams, you don’t think you’ve ever heard him this excited. 

“No shit, really?” You smile back, running your hands over your hair in an attempt to look even slightly presentable. 

“Yeah. It’s- I mean, it sucks and it’s stressful… but I think it’ll be really good you know?” He fiddles with the papers in his hands, bending the stack of bills over and over. 

All you can do is nod as you soak him in. Your eyes settle onto his face, a smile is spread across his cheeks so wide it crinkles his eyes a bit. It’s cute, you aren’t sure you’ve seen him smile like that before. 

“Congrats.” You smile softly “When uh- are you guys planning on opening?” You ask as you walk to your own mailbox. 

“Little over a month left.” His words sound more like a sigh as he rocks back onto his heels. “It’s been a lot.” 

“I bet.” You hum back, retrieving your own envelopes. “I loved the food you gave me last week by the way, oh my god.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, cheeks flushing at the praise.

“Oh yeah. If you have any more leftovers please send them my way.” You laugh, lightly tapping the toe of your shoe to his. He laughs at the action, raising a tattooed hand up to his face to cover his smile. 

“I might have to start charging you.” He jokes. 

“Well maybe I should come by.” You respond back. 

A huff of air leaves his lips as the conversation stills. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, teeth digging into his cheek in an attempt to subdue his grin. Despite how much you want to, you don’t let yourself stare. Your gaze flicks to the envelopes in your hands for a split second before meeting his stare. 

“Well uh. I should probably…” You say, tilting your head toward the staircase he’s currently blocking. 

“Oh- yeah, yes.” Carmy laughs awkwardly as he steps to the side. “My bad.” 

“Goodnight, Carmy.” You smile, “Good luck with the restaurant.” 

“Thank you. I uh- will.” He says awkwardly, clearing his throat and thumbing through his mail. “Night.” He finishes, a little too far away. You’re already at your door by the time he decides to say it. 

You smile to yourself as you move through your apartment. 

This is gonna suck.

[jellofish-plant]

Raindrops & Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader

Summary: After a late-night diner run in Gotham’s pouring rain, you and Jason share a single umbrella as he walks you home. Between warm laughter, stolen glances, and the rhythm of rain against the pavement, the night ends in a way neither of you will forget.

Warnings: Slight language, fluff, mutual pining, soft Jason moments, a very sweet kiss in the rain.

[Masterlist]

The neon glow of the 24-hour diner flickered in the puddles along the cracked Gotham sidewalk. The air smelled of wet asphalt, fresh rain, and the faint lingering scent of coffee and grease from inside. Jason pulled a few bills from his jacket pocket, tossing them onto the counter before nodding toward the door.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice low and warm, an unspoken promise in the simple gesture of grabbing his jacket.

You hesitated, glancing at the downpour outside. "Jay… do you see that? We’re gonna get drenched."

He only smirked, reaching behind him and pulling out a black umbrella, popping it open with a flick of his wrist. "I came prepared, sweetheart. What kind of Gothamite would I be if I didn’t?"

A laugh bubbled up in your chest as you slipped out into the night beside him, pressed shoulder to shoulder beneath the small canopy. Jason held the umbrella slightly tilted toward you, letting the rain hit his side more than yours a subtle, unspoken act of care.

"You’re getting wet," you pointed out.

Jason shrugged, glancing at you with that damn half-smirk. "I’ll live."

The city was quieter at this hour, save for the occasional distant siren and the rhythmic patter of rain against concrete. The streets shimmered under streetlights, and you could hear your own breath mix with Jason’s as you walked slow, unhurried, like neither of you really wanted to reach your destination.

Then, without warning, a sudden gust of wind ripped the umbrella from Jason’s grasp. It flipped inside out and tumbled down the sidewalk.

"Shit," he muttered, watching it bounce away like a lost balloon.

You burst into laughter, the sound ringing through the empty street. Jason turned to you, his expression a mix of amused exasperation and something softer, something he’d never quite put into words.

"Guess we’re running," he said, reaching for your hand.

You didn’t think, just grabbed onto him, fingers threading through his as you both took off down the street, splashing through puddles, the rain soaking through your clothes. Jason was faster, but he slowed to match your pace, his grip never loosening, his warmth grounding you against the night’s chill.

By the time you reached your apartment steps, you were breathless, drenched, and grinning like an idiot. Jason stood in front of you, shaking out his wet hair, droplets clinging to the curve of his jaw.

"You’re a mess," you teased, swiping water from his cheek.

Jason caught your wrist before you could pull away, his fingers gentle but firm. His expression shifted, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something else, something more dangerous.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart stuttered. The air between you felt charged, like lightning just before it strikes. And then Jason leaned in, just enough for you to meet him halfway.

The kiss was soft, slow, rain-soaked and electric all at once. His lips were warm against the cold night, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer like he couldn’t bear to let go. The world melted away no Gotham, no rain, no crime-ridden city just Jason, just you, just this.

When you finally pulled back, he let out a breathless chuckle, resting his forehead against yours. "Guess I should lose umbrellas more often."

You laughed, hands still tangled in his damp hoodie, completely lost in him.

"Yeah," you whispered, smiling against his lips. "Maybe you should."

And then, just because you could, you kissed him again.

[yanderes-galore]

hear me out, Arthur with darling who's a bounty? Like one of the posters you can get in the various sheriff's offices

Oh! I like this idea since it's a bit hypocritical of him.

Yandere! Arthur Morgan with Bounty! Darling

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Threats, Overprotective behavior, Murder, Paranoia, Coercion, Dubious companionship/relationship.

It's ironic that Arthur, an outlaw, hunts down bounties.

Truthfully he's just doing it for the money.

It's not like he's a Pinkerton or anything.

The sheriff hires him as a gun to take down other outlaws tormenting folk.

Doesn't matter what they did, as long as Arthur takes care of them then he'll get his money.

Normally this job doesn't affect him.

He's used to shooting or lassoing folk.

Usually it gets him a nice sum of money to present Dutch.

Although... What if Arthur couldn't do one bounty.

Usually with bounty hunting, the only appeal to him is the money.

What if he finds something much better than... money?

I imagine Arthur would have to find some sort of... reason between to spare you.

Like maybe you aren't even that high value a target.

Or maybe you did what you did because you had no other choice...

If you want a more platonic view, maybe you're too young for him to want to shoot or give to the sheriff.

If you want a more romantic view, you manage to swoon him enough to get away.

Either way, if Arthur is somehow intrigued by you, it doesn't take much to make him rethink taking the job.

He himself is wanted dead or alive... So he understands the struggle.

Maybe after Arthur decides against it he can't get you out of his head?

He sees your wanted posters everywhere and a small part of him is almost... concerned.

After all, if he doesn't do something... Someone else will.

Arthur's first few encounters with you are often hostile or begrudgingly neutral.

You may have even paid him off a few times from your robberies just to keep your freedom.

Eventually Arthur uses these times as alternative ways to get money.

You keep your freedom, he gets paid, he even looks forward to you two meetings.

Yet there's a nagging fear in him.

You could still get hurt due to other bounty hunters.

Just because he hasn't harmed you... They still could.

This anxious thought might be what makes him obsessive.

He's concerned about you.

You're out there all alone and you can't bribe everyone.

Arthur wasn't expecting to get so worked up about some other petty criminal.

Yet here he is, staying up in camp with a million different thoughts running through his head.

It would not surprise me if Arthur continued to track you like he did when you were a target of his.

He follows you from a distance on his horse, watching you make camp quietly.

He isn't sure how he wants to approach you and tell you he's friendly.

Will you actually trust him or still try to bribe him?

While he typically watches you from a distance, he sometimes even sits at your camp to chat.

He wants you to trust him, he isn't after your bounty anymore.

Think of him as an ally... a friend.

Sometimes Arthur even finds a few bounty hunters after you.

He ends up taking care of them before they get to you... two well placed shots in the head usually takes them out.

Is it wrong of him to do this? It doesn't matter to him.

He can't get you out of his head... He doesn't want anything wrong to happen.

You can bet that eventually Arthur will try to invite you to Dutch's gang.

He knows you'll be well taken care of there.

You'll always be under his watch, at least.

You reject Arthur a few times, but the man is quite persistent.

He may be nice now... but what if he isn't?

What if Arthur was very adamant you joined.

It starts as a suggestion.

Wouldn't it be safer to travel in a group?

Then it becomes more of a subtle threat...

Y'know... Your bounty is pretty high now....

You won't be able to pay Arthur off forever, right?

So... why don't you come with him?

He can take care of you, you'll have company and food... and somewhere to go.

Bounty hunters are too much of a danger when you're alone.

If you don't come with him, well...

He'll stop accepting your money.

Then there's nothing stopping him from turning you in, right?

It's simple, isn't it?

You either come with him to join the gang...

Or he turns you in to the sheriff.

Is that a threat? Perhaps...

But you'll thank him later.

Arthur insists he's doing this because he cares.

Like he wasn't hunting you down months ago.

He'd drag his obsession to the gang if he has to.

You don't have much of a say in the matter once Arthur starts his threats.

It seems like you join him or you die... and you happen to like what little freedom you have.

So Arthur succeeds in dragging you to Dutch, saying you can be a good help to the group.

He takes care of you like he says.

It's... actually a bit strange for you.

This is the very same man who hunted you down for money...

Now he's treating you like you're part of some kind of family?

You struggle to get used to the new life you were forced into...

You don't entirely hate it, but you are a bit intimidated by Arthur.

After all, now you have to be part of the gang.

At least this puts Arthur at ease, right?

Now he doesn't have to worry about you being killed as long as he keeps you in camp.

Sure, you may hate him now, but this is a good deal, right?

Arthur knows you'll come to enjoy the gang's company at some point...

You already enjoy his company too...

Isn't this better than the noose?

[willowsnook]

off limits

joe burrow! x kelce sibling?????????

joe burrow x kelce!sister

Being Jason and Travis Kelce’s little sister meant that a life in the spotlight came naturally, and you took advantage of it. Let’s be real, who wouldn’t take the opportunity to be an influencer when it was served on a silver platter?

Once your brothers’ fames skyrocketed, you started getting hit up by brands for different sports-related shoots and loved it. Plus, after Kylie started her own podcast, she asked you to co-host with her. You were happy to help her bring more female audiences into sports, along with the aid of a hopefully future sister-in-law of yours. You also garnered a lot of male attention; the Kelce genes were certainly attractive, so much to your brothers’ irritation, you were constantly hit on on social media.

The most amusing guy that hit on you was Joe Burrow. You had met him a handful of times over the years but never really hung out; that didn’t stop him from constantly sliding up on your Instagram stories.

You look good. In Cincy soon? 🥵

You replied lazily every once in a while, but it made you laugh considering he would never say that stuff publicly because of your very overprotective brothers. You knew they both liked Joe a lot, but would they like him sliding into their little sister’s DMs? Probably not.

New Heights was filming a show in Cincinnati, and Not Gonna Lie was like the opener for it. You were excited, as this was the first live show you would be a part of and admittedly were a little curious to see a certain quarterback who was a guest. Time to see if his actions lived up to his words.

You landed in Cincinnati the day of the event, and it was a tad warmer than what Philly was currently like, so you were already enjoying the spring sunshine. You spent the day exploring the city before heading to the arena for a bunch of pre-show things before the evening. Kylie was wearing Jason’s jersey, so you decided to match the jersey vibe but wanted to stir the pot with Joe with your choice. You had gone to the University of Oklahoma for school and hung out with some of the players often during your time there, so it was easy to get someone to hook you up with an Orlando Brown Jr. jersey for the event. He was the other guest on the podcast tonight and one of Joe’s teammates.

The jersey hit mid-thigh, so you just opted for a pair of Nike pros underneath, paired with high boots.

“They are going to kill you,” Kylie said, amused after you came out of the changing room.

“You think so?” you asked innocently, giving her a twirl. She whistled loudly, making you laugh.

“Also, why the Orlando jersey?” she asked, and you shrugged.

“He went to OU,” you told her, and she smirked.

“So, nothing to do with someone else in your DMs?”

You flipped her off and headed into the hospitality area to grab something to drink. You already regretted telling her about how often Joe was DMing you.

As you entered the hospitality area, you immediately locked eyes with Joe Burrow himself. His gaze traveled from your face down to your jersey, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. You couldn't help but smirk as you watched his expression change from shock to amusement.

"Well, well, well," Joe drawled, sauntering over to you with a cocky grin. "I see you're repping the wrong player tonight."

You feigned innocence, batting your eyelashes. "Oh? I thought I was supporting the Bengals. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. "You know exactly what you're doing, Kelce."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Burrow," you replied sweetly, grabbing a bottle of water from the refreshment table.

He leaned in close, his cologne washing over your senses, and you tried your best to remain unaffected, meeting his stare head-on.

“You trying to make me jealous isn’t going to work?” he said cockily, and you smirked.

“Oh yeah?” you asked. “How do you know I don’t actually respond to his DMs?”

The look of confidence dropped off his face, and you smirked wider, patting his shoulders as you moved past him and to your brothers. They both noticed as you came over and immediately gave identical disapproving looks.

“Absolutely not.” “Change.” they said at the same time. You rolled your eyes, looking to Kylie for help, who was shaking her head, amused by the situation.

“I think she looks great,” Orlando said, coming up, and you beamed. “Good to see you, y/n, love the jersey.”

“Thanks, O,” you said, hugging him in greeting.

“I think she should change too,” Joe said from behind you. “A little showy.”

“Are you calling my sister a slut?” Jason deadpanned, and you covered your mouth to hide your giggles as Joe paled.

“Nn-no,” he stuttered out. “She might get cold.”

That made you laugh out loud, and you felt bad for him, so you stepped up in his defense.

“He’s just mad I’m not wearing his jersey,” you told them, but that didn’t take the suspicious look off Jason’s face.

“Do you two even know each other that well?” he asked, and you smirked up at Joe, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

“Yeah, Joey, why don’t you tell them how often we talk?” you teased, and he glared down at you before mumbling that he needed to make a call. Your brothers eyed you warily after he left, but you just shrugged.

The show went off without a hitch, and you found yourself enjoying every moment of it. The energy from the live audience was electric, and you felt a rush of excitement as you bantered with Kylie and people in the crowd, especially during the Q&A.

Throughout the show, you couldn't help but notice Joe's eyes constantly flicking towards you. Every time you caught his gaze, he'd quickly look away, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. It was endearing, really, how this confident quarterback seemed so flustered around you.

The last question you got was who your prediction was for the MVP this year. You shot a look towards Joe, who was watching you intently, before answering with a smirk.

“I’m gonna have to go with Lamar,” you said to the boos of the Cincinnati audience. “I know, I know, I just think it’s his year. Unless I’m missing someone…”

You mocked being confused, looking around until you met Joe’s eyes and shot him a wink.

“Thank you, Cincy!” Kylie called out, and the two of you headed off stage to watch your brothers from the backstage area. They were amazing as always, and once everything was wrapped up, the whole crew headed out to a nearby bar to celebrate.

As you waited to order a drink, you felt a presence behind you. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Joe.

"Lamar, huh?" he murmured, his breath tickling your ear.

You suppressed a shiver, keeping your eyes forward. "What can I say? I like a man who can run."

Joe chuckled, the sound low and warm. "I can run too, you know."

"Oh really?" you teased, finally turning to face him. "I thought you were more of a pocket passer."

His eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'm full of surprises, Kelce. Maybe you should give me a chance to show you."

You raised an eyebrow, a challenge in your voice. "Is that so? And how do you propose to do that?"

Joe leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Come home with me tonight.”

“Hmm,” you said, contemplating. “Might have to ask for my brother’s permission first.”

He rolled his eyes at your teasing, putting both arms against the bar, caging you in.

“Very funny.”

“I think so,” you countered, eyes sparkling with amusement. “What would going home with Joe Burrow even really entail?”

Bringing his lips to your ear, he whispered, “Well, first of all, I would take my time, cutting that filthy jersey off of you.”

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine. You tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how affected you were.

"That's a shame," you murmured, your voice slightly breathy. "I quite like this jersey."

Joe's eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly to look at you. "I'll buy you a new one. A better one."

You couldn't help but smirk. "Oh? And which jersey would that be?"

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You know exactly which one, y/n."

The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. You were about to respond when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

"Y/n! There you are!" Travis's voice boomed across the bar.

Joe pulled back from you, but you grabbed his arm, pulling him down to tell him something quickly.

“20 more minutes and then we can leave.”

[velvet-n-lace]

NSFW Alphabet (Asmodeus Edition)

Series: Obey Me!

Genre: Smut/Headcanon

Word Count: 2k words

Pairing(s): Asmodeus x Female MC

Original Template by @/the-coldest-goodbye 

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

Asmo is an absolute sweetie. He will make sure you are comfortable and cleaned up with a warm bath in his candle-lit bathroom. His soft kisses on your rose-scented body and sweet pillow talk will make you melt until you fall asleep in his arms.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

He loves every part of himself, so there is no part he dislikes or hates. Asmo just knows that every part of him is worth drooling over, so he loves every part of you, too. Canonically, he is an ass man and often fixates on yours. While he can love the parts of you that turn him on, Asmo is especially fixated on your eyes. It’s most likely because he can see his reflection in them, and to him, that’s a sign you were meant to be his~

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

By far the sweetest cum in the Devildom, it’s an aphrodisiac that will leave your senses heightened and your body in heat. Asmo especially loves watching it leak out your pussy after he creampies you. Sometimes, he fingers it back inside you; other times, he lets it stain his sheets. He loves it so much he can't help but also have a taste of himself when it gets all over his fingers.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Asmodeus is the motherfucking Avatar of Lust; hardly anything is a secret anymore unless you count this one time when he almost fed you aphrodisiacs back when his charm didn’t work on you. He had to stop himself before going through with it, but eventually, once the two of you were finally fucking each other, those aphrodisiacs were put to good use~ Also, maybe he keeps other wild kinks a secret just for your sake ;)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh, he’s had experiences: he’s fucked a bunch of demons before meeting you. Asmodeus claims that he has tried everything, maybe even things you’ve never thought of in your life. He would be happy to share them with you if you like~

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Whether you want to top him or not, Asmodeus is fine with any position that makes you feel comfortable. His preference, though, is when he fucks you from behind with your ass in the air or having you straddle him. Doggystyle, prone bone, or fucking you cowgirl style are just a few positions where he can whisper dirty things in your ear while he spanks your ass.

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

He’s sweet and sensual in the moment. Depending on the mood, it can be humorous if it's just sweet love-making, but he can also be serious when the fucking gets brutal. Asmo can adapt to any situation, and all you gotta do is look pretty for him (in other words, just exist).

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is very well-groomed; it’s pretty obvious. He’s probably the most groomed out of all his brothers. He’s got make-up on, his nails are done, his perfume and lotion smell divine, and he has a rather time-consuming self-care routine. The perfume he wears is your favorite fragrance, and he is always searching for a compliment from you. His drapes match his carpet: peach-colored, trimmed constantly, and smooth like his skin.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Very intimate. His smooth hands constantly graze your skin and make it more sensitive. His heavenly, seductive voice adds to his alluring presence, making you almost worship him. With his lips and tongue on your most sensitive spots, he would whisper all the things he would do to you. Asmo knows damn well what he’s doing, and seeing you melt in his touch gets him so hard.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Asmo can do wonders with his body; not only does he have many sex toys to play with, but he often bends himself over to suck his own cock. Usually, he loves to stare at himself in the mirror when he masturbates; either that or he films himself so he can post it online later. Sometimes he fucks a fleshlight while he’s fucking himself with a dildo. As his soft silicone toys milk his cock and prostate, his sheets will be stained with cum.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Asmodeus has so many kinks (some would say all of them): Asmodeus loves being worshipped and praised for his body and abilities. Body worship, especially in front of his mirror, is on a whole other level; the many positions he can put you in can surprise you, especially when you’re watching yourself get fucked by the lustful demon himself. Sometimes there is porn playing in the background while you make love to him, and if you’re feeling freaky, he can take you to a sex club (he could even invite Solomon over). Asmo especially loves ass-play and wouldn’t mind fucking your backdoor or giving it a sloppy rim job (and he can receive it with ease. It’s obvious he’s into getting pegged too). Asmo isn’t afraid to switch positions or try something new for you, and all of this just scratches the surface. (AN: i could go on and on, anyway)

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Definitely, his room, where he can use all his toys on you. He can bring some over to your room too, and if you are feeling freaky, both of you can go to a club and bring in some horny demons to play with (kof kof… Solomon can come too). If both of you can find an empty classroom to make out in, that’d be exciting.

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

Pretty much everything you do instantly motivates Asmo, especially if you are teasing and flirting back at him. Seeing you dressed up all cute and sexy, wearing matching accessories with him, or wearing some lingerie underneath your school uniform makes his heartbeat go fast. Any form of affection you give could lead to even more arousal by the end of the day.

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

There are very few no-nos, but he’s fine with you setting boundaries. He would respect your turn-offs and not even question them for a second. Asmo also prefers his praise kink, so degradation towards him is off the table.

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

Asmo loves giving and receiving; he’s practically a god at them. His tongue is skilled and will leave you begging for more. He often suckles on your clit and fingers your pussy, or he eats you out in rhythmic patterns while he jacks himself off. His moans are heavenly when he feels your tongue around his dick. He’s always so surprised when you worship his needy cock by shoving it down your throat or jacking it off while you plant kisses down his shaft. Massaging his balls while you suck him off or giving them a soft suckle drives him wild.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood and how horny both of you are. No matter what, you will always be pleased in some way. He grips you tightly and often teases you with his pace so he can hear you moan the words “faster~” or “harder~.”

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

Quickies are definitely a must for Asmo; he often has to take some during classes, especially if he’s distracted by something arousing you wore that day. All he needs is an empty classroom or a clean bathroom stall to do it in.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Of course, he’s down to get risky. If he can handle quickies, he will for sure get away with the craziest things. The wildest kinks don't scare him, and he will make out with you in random places or touch you during class. He may even show you how hard his dick is when he hugs you from behind.

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

Oh baby, he can go for many. He’s got the stamina of a bunny in heat, and he will show it with each round. Of course, he will stop when you’ve had enough; he doesn’t want to push you too hard, but when he embraces his sin, it’ll be difficult for him to slow down.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Asmo has all of them… in fact, there may be too many to count. He keeps them underneath his bed and neatly aligned at his disposal. His favorites would probably be some dildos made of smooth glass or fleshlights with very lifelike material. He always used them on himself, but he lets you choose one that intrigues you the most. Handcuffs, blindfolds, vibrators, gags, buttplugs, just so many are on display, but he also owns toys that you’ve never seen before in the human world. You often have to wonder if what you’re seeing is a demonic sex toy or just some cursed object Asmo accidentally fucked or shoved up his ass one day.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He’s a big tease; if you think the flirting is enough, he will edge you so hard you will be begging him to fuck you then and there. It’s playful teasing though; he’s not that heartless. You can always tease him as payback, but Asmo is always the best at it in bed.

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

All kinds of moans and groans come out of his mouth, and they will be loud; there is no questioning about it (unless you make him wear a gag or something). He moans like a pornstar, and he will make a melodic sound each time you toy with his body. He loves it when you let out all your moans with no remorse, and he always thought they sounded beautiful alongside his~

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

Like Mammon, Asmo also has a Devildom version of OnlyFans, except it’s not really a secret. Everyone knows he has one since he unapologetically flaunts it in his social circle. He always finds ways to make his content entertaining and worth replaying, plus his subscriptions skyrocketed once you entered the picture. Filming porn with him brings out a more performative side to his fucking, but it’s still filled with that same passion and love when the cameras are off.

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

Perfectly soft pink like his skin, and yet it’s textured and veiny like a brand-new dildo. His cock is sort of smaller than his other brothers, but size doesn’t matter, so he doesn’t care cuz he knows exactly how to use it. The shaft is slender and curves upward, while its head is smooth like it’s begging to be put inside you; it may even have a piercing~

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

Super hiiiiigh~ The highest among his brothers. It’s not only difficult to control when you are around, but it’s also the source of his pleasure and the reason he constantly imagines you and him naked in bed. It distracts him greatly, so he always lets you know when he’s about to burst~

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

When the aftercare is done, he will cuddle up and fall asleep with you. The warmth of his body pressed against yours is comforting the more you drift off to sleep. Knowing that he’s sleeping with his love at the end of a thrilling night is something Asmo takes to heart, especially when you feel the same.

[shiorimakibawrites]

The Opening Act (Happy Little Accident #3)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Word Count: 8200+ Summary: Your first date with Matt. Warning(s): Anxiety, low self-esteem, swearing, secret identity dramatic irony, sexual fantasies (oral sex, face sitting, p in v sex, groping), implied masturbation, referenced cat-calling, kissing, suggestive conversation Happy Little Accident Masterlist My Masterlist Tag List: @loves0phelia, @sarahskywalker-amidala, @fanfiction-fanatic221, @nowheredreamer, @marshmelloyellow02, @milkbummm, @writtenbyred, @beezusvreeland, @dorothleah, @m1cky-y-y, @cestgrace Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. AO3 link

Part Three: The Opening Act

You patted yourself on the back for your self-control.

You managed to wait until you heard Matt’s door close before you jumped up and down with an excited whoop. A quiet one. Well . . . as quiet as you could make it. Hopefully quiet enough that Matt hadn’t heard it. He once claimed to have excellent hearing. Everything you had observed about him since moving in backed up that claim.

Fingers-crossed that two doors and the hallway was enough space to muffle it. Otherwise Matt might realize that asking you out was a mistake. Between the magenta incident and your inability to walk without tripping over your own feet, you had no idea what had possessed him to ask in the first place.

Whatever it was, you hoped that it stuck around.

At least long enough to discover if Real Matt was as good at sex as Fantasy Matt. Hell, even if he was half as good as that . . . you were going to be a puddle of bliss. Just might ruin you for other men.

Shame since you were probably going to run him off being all anxious and weird.

‘No raining on my parade,’ you ordered the brain gremlins sternly. Matt Murdock had asked you out and you were going to enjoy it, damn it!

“What’s got you so excited?” Serena asked, appearing at the bathroom door.

“I have a date,” you said, unable to contain your smile.

She smiled. “That’s wonderful! With who?”

“With Matt,” you said and waited.

The smile widened, became distinctively smug. “I told you that he liked-liked you.”

“You did.”

“Maybe next time you’ll believe me when I tell you someone is checking out your ass.”

“Matt has never checked out my ass,” you objected. “I’m lucky he can’t see my ugly bubble butt.”

Serena paused drying her hair with a towel long enough to roll her eyes. “You don’t have an ‘ugly bubble butt.’ Paula Little, excuse me Mrs. David Fitzroy, is a jealous bitch and always has been.”

You wanted to believe that. You really did. But it wasn’t so easy to banish that woman’s voice and cruel words from your mind. To forget the utter contempt in her eyes. Which was less often these days. Maybe you’d get lucky and she’ll decide to move to DC full-time.

Yeah right. You getting into a whirlwind romance with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was more likely.

“Perhaps,” you said.

“No ‘perhaps’ about it,” Serena said firmly. “And that woman is green with envy. And about to get greener the next time she decides to ‘grace’ us with her presence.”

“Huh? Why?”

Serena arched an eyebrow, “Because that beautiful specimen of a man across the hall? The one taking you out . . . when is this date?”

“Tomorrow at seven.”

The other eyebrow raised to match its counterpart. “Not wasting any time, is he? That guy at Josie’s must have really lit a fire under his ass.”

“That guy was not hitting on me.”

“He absolutely was,” Serena countered. “Along with undressing you with his eyes. Why do you think Matt kept looking like he had just bitten into a lemon?”

You hesitated. You hadn’t missed those looks but . . .

“How would he know?”

“Maybe Foggy warned him that someone was sniffing around his girl?”

You felt your face flush at the thought. It was a very appealing image. Your ego really enjoyed it. But the sensible part of your mind warned against putting the cart before the horse.

“One date - that hasn’t even happened yet - doesn’t make me his girl.”

“Maybe not, but you wanna be.”

That you could not argue. You had thus far managed to resist the urge to write Mrs. Murdock on your mini sketch book. Serena and Lex didn’t need anymore ammunition. Bad enough that Serena had teased you about how many of those pages had sketches of Matt. Your protests that you had also sketched Foggy, Karen, Serena, and Lex (just to name a few) was irrelevant.

“Speaking of dates, Darien is taking me to Hidaka for our anniversary tomorrow night,” Serena said.

“How romantic,” you said. Hidaka was a restaurant that served steak and seafood, the fancy kind where you had to wear nice clothes to even get in the door. Not quite black tie but definitely not jeans and a tee shirt. You had heard the food was very good but since it was also rather expensive, you couldn’t speak from personal experience.

“And,” her smile turned saucy. “Remember that lingerie set I bought last month?”

“I remember.” You had gone with her to the store. Serena liked having your opinion on such matters. Not because you were any kind of sex goddess. You just loved lingerie. It made you feel pretty. Even (especially) if no one else knew you were wearing it. Consequently your underwear drawer was almost entirely composed of silk, lace, and satin. “Darien’s going to be picking his jaw off the floor.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Coming back here or going to his place?” You asked.

“His place,” Serena said, then grinned at you. “You shouldn’t need your noise-canceling headphones tomorrow. Not unless Matt snores like a bullhorn.”

You flushed. “What makes you think Matt is sleeping over?”

“The fact that you’ve been thinking about his dick since the day you met?”

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. She wasn’t . . . . wrong. Matt had gotten the starring role in your sexual fantasies very quickly. He also made regular appearances in your dreams. Not exclusively. For example, there had been a couple involving Daredevil.

But mostly it was Matt. And would probably be Matt again tonight. If you ended up touching yourself. You were feeling a little worked up ever since Lex put the idea of him eating you out in your head. Or rather put it back in your head. You had thought about it once or twice . . . dozen . . . times . . . your fingers gripping his hair tightly while those pink lips wrapped around your clit and sucked . . .

This wasn’t helping you feel less turned on . . .

Serena’s laughter interrupted your horny thoughts. “You’re thinking about it again!”

“Am not!”

“Sssuuureee you aren’t,” Serena teased. “Well, I’m going to bed. Long night tomorrow. Enjoy picturing Mr. Murdock, Esquire pounding you into the mattress!”

“Serena!” you whined but she just laughed and headed into her bedroom.

Out of sheer stubbornness, you tried to ignore just how aroused you were. You changed into your sleeping clothes - a simple pair of shorts and oversized shirt. Brushed your teeth, washed your face . . . briefly considered not washing the hand Matt had kissed before good sense won out. Along with the knowledge that, by this time tomorrow, you might have gotten a real kiss from him.

His lips on your knuckles had been so soft. As soft as you had hoped. And dreamed. You had had a lot of thoughts about that mouth. Was Matt a good kisser? How would his mouth gliding across your skin feel? Teasing, feather light brush of his lips? Little kisses? Gentle nips? Particularly to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he made his way up to your . . .

You sighed in defeat. Your cunt was not going to sleep without getting some relief. You slide your hand inside your shorts and gasped at the first touch . . . .

Matt had done his best to tune out your conversation with your roommate. While he couldn’t help overhearing things, he tried to give his neighbors some privacy. Instead he focused on getting ready for his patrol. There hadn’t been more trouble than usual but . . . he froze, the intoxicating scent of your arousal filling his nose.

That it had become familiar over the past few months did nothing to diminish its potency. Neither did all the barriers between him and your cunt. Quite the opposite. His lust for you had only become distilled. Concentrated it until the merest hint, the barest taste, of you was enough to stir his cock.

Go, it begged him. March across that hallway and peel off those soaked panties. They were silk today. He had been the hardest he had ever been in his life the day he realized that you wore nothing but satin, silk and lace under your clothes. Learn to tell the difference by the shift of the fabric against your skin as you moved.

Combined with your pheromones . . . sometimes it took every ounce of his self-control not to pick you up and carry you off to his bed like a caveman.

This was one of those times. He wanted to be gripping your ass in his hands while you ground that wonderfully drenched pussy on his face. He wanted you writhing underneath him, trembling from orgasm after orgasm until the only name you knew was his . . .

He clenched his teeth, shaking his head. Not tonight. Tomorrow. Assuming that was what you wanted. But his erection refused to be dismissed . . .

“Ahhh . . .  Matty.” 

It was the last straw, that sweet little whimper of his name had him leaking and painfully hard.

“Fuck,” he hissed, then pushed down his pants to free his cock . . .

You had fully expected to wake up at some ungodly hour and be unable to get back to sleep. But you didn’t. Much to your surprise, you didn’t wake up until a little after ten. Maybe it was the orgasm? Something about that warm, sated feeling made it easier to settle into sleep.

Idly you wondered if that effect would be enhanced by having Matt’s big, warm body to snuggle against afterward?

Assuming Matt snuggled. You hoped so. Being held in those strong arms, enjoying the warmth of his body and the beating of his heart under your ear . . . it would be such a lovely way to spend a lazy morning.

Serena had already left for work so the apartment was empty and quiet. You hummed as you opened the airtight jar of coffee beans and measured out enough for a few cups. There was just enough. Time for a trip to the roasters, then. A glance at the list on the fridge added a grocery store run to your errand list. It was your turn anyway. You had intended to go yesterday but then yesterday happened.

Your roommate would have gone and done it herself yesterday if she hadn’t been babysitting her brother’s kids. Probably for the best. More errands meant less time to work yourself into an anxiety spiral about your date tonight.

But first, coffee.

Your ears (and nerves) weren’t the biggest fan of the coffee grinder but your mouth wasn’t a fan of pre-ground coffee. It had been fine in high school but after working at the Daily Grind for a year, you just couldn’t stand the taste of pre-ground coffee anymore. It was too stale. The cafe had also ruined you for beans that weren’t locally roasted.

The only benefit to pre-ground coffee from the grocery store was that it was cheaper. But buying something that neither of you would drink wasn’t much of a cost saving. Thankfully your favorite roaster, Connor of Cool Beans, was willing to offer you and Serena a discount for being regular customers. It wasn’t a big discount but every little bit helped.

The delicious aroma, woody with hints of sweetness, rising from your mug told you had made the right choice.

Between running errands and tidying up the apartment (just in case you did end up inviting Matt inside), you were busy enough to avoid any nerves about your upcoming date. Right up until you were putting some things you had borrowed from Serena in her room and saw the dress for her anniversary dinner laying across her bed along with the lingerie, the matching heels waiting patiently at the foot of the bed. And then it hit you.

Your date was in four hours and you had no idea what you were gonna wear.

What happened next probably qualified as panic as you pulled things out of your closet and dresser. Trying to find something that didn’t make you look hideous. A task made more difficult when you remembered that you had no idea where he was taking you or what you would be doing . . . 

Your name being called in a slightly worried voice startled you in looking up from the indecisive pile of clothes on your bed. Serena standing in the doorway, her hair freshly cut into waves that framed her face.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know what to wear,” you admitted, feeling a little stupid. You were an adult. You should be able to pick out your own clothes.

“Okay,” Serena said, no judgement in her voice. You had been friends for years. She was used to you panicking over nothing. “Let’s take this one step at a time. Where are you going for your date?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s easy enough to remedy,” she said and pulled out her phone. An action that confused you for a moment before you remembered that Matt had given you both his number shortly after you had moved in. Just in case, he had said. Never know when you might need the helping hand of a neighbor. Or a lawyer.

“Hi Matt,” she said. “Where are you taking my roomie tonight? Need to narrow down the clothing options.”

A pause. “I promise.”

That was enough to get an answer. Presumably. She still had her Bluetooth in so you couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation. Didn’t get to hear that deep, soft-spoken voice that made you weak in the knees. Something you were not at all pouting about.

“Good choice! Thanks Matt. Bye.” Serena hung up and slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“Well?” you said. “Where’s he taking me?”

“Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

You frowned. Surprises weren’t your favorite things. They tended to be things like falling on your ass in a puddle or slicing open your thumb on an unexpected knife (never reach into someone’s craft drawer without looking) or getting dumped on Valentine’s Day . . .

“Hey, hey, don’t fret,” Serena said. “You’re gonna like this one. Trust me.”

“Okay,” you said slowly. You trusted Serena. She had been your friend for years before you both decided to become roommates. Well, roommates again. You had shared a dorm most of your time at Empire State. This trust wasn’t quite enough to entirely settle the anxiety. Which paid very little heed to such frivolities as facts and logic.

“Back to the topic at hand, your date outfit,” she continued, eyeing the clothing pile thoughtfully. “One thing I can tell you is that where you’re going isn’t somewhere with a dress code.”

“Which narrows it down from everything to everything minus the dresses in the back corner of my closet.”

“You mean you hadn’t already put your sweatpants collection in the ‘no’ pile? I’m all for being comfortable but that’s more of a snuggle on the couch watching movies on a rainy day kind of date outfit.”

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t going to wear sweatpants. It’s just . . . everything else.”

Serena nodded her head. “Let’s start at the bottom and work our way out. Underwear?”

One of the few things not scattered on the bed. You opened the drawer and stared at the possibilities. Maybe keep it simple? Save the ones like the pair with the cut-out heart on the behind for a later date? Yes. Something pretty but unlikely to make you nervous about its boldness . . . especially if said underwear ended up scattered across the floor tonight.

Something like this one, black satin with a matching bra. You set it aside and turned back to Serena. While you were contemplating your underwear, she had been picking out some clothing suggestions. Which seemed to be three choices for a top but only one pair of jeans had been set aside.

“Why those jeans?” you asked.

“They show off that very fine ass of yours.”

Your face flushed. “I don’t have a fine ass.”

“Sorry, darling, you have been outvoted.”

“By whom?” you demanded.

“Me, Lex, Matt . . .”

“Matt has no opinion of my ass.” you objected.

“Bet you five bucks that he does,” Serena said. “And that opinion is ‘hot damn, I need to get a handful of that!’”

“Doubt it,” you said, your face flushing at the idea of Matt grabbing your ass. It wasn’t unappealing . . .

Serena made a huffing noise. “When I’m proven right - and I will be - the ‘I told you so’ is gonna echo across Hell’s Kitchen.”

You rolled your eyes. You loved Serena dearly but she could be so very dramatic.

You turned your attention to the clothes. For all of your disagreement with her assessment of your ass (and its potential appeal to Matt), those jeans were a good choice. Comfortable but nice enough for a date somewhere more casual. Which honestly appealed to you more than somewhere fancy like Hidaka. A special occasion like an anniversary was one thing but for a first date, that was a lot of pressure.

Only thing left to choose was a top. And shoes. But you pushed that out of your mind. As Serena said, one thing at a time.

The fitted tee with the swoop neckline got bounced for being pink. You lived pink just fine but it was too close to magenta right now. And you just couldn’t. Maybe one day, you’ll look back on the magenta incident with fondness or even humor. But today was not that day. The white chiffon blouse with the periwinkle flower pattern was also out. The black bra would be visible. Ask how you knew.

Which left the wrap shirt. It was purple ombre, starting with a plum that was nearly black at the shoulders and ending with a pale violet at the hem. And like the jeans, it was comfortable and looked nice without being too dressy. You added a pair of ballet-style flats and declared yourself done.

“No jewelry?” Serena asked.

“Just my Pixie Dreamgirls friendship bracelet,” you said. “Gotta represent.”

Happily said bracelet didn’t clash with your outfit. Actually none of the outfits Serena had picked out did. Well she knew you liked the band. And that you had intended to wear your bracelet this week to support the band’s mini tour.

Still that grin she was sporting had you narrowing your eyes. Serena was Up To Something . . .

“Well it’s been fun but I’ve gotta get ready for my own date. Darien will be here in about an hour,” she said.

You blinked. Was it that late already? You looked at your watch. Yes, yes it was. Only two more hours to go.

<line break>

You sat on the couch, trying to distract yourself from anxiously pacing with YouTube videos. You were also trying to avoid thinking too much about Serena’s whispered reminder about the box of condoms in the bathroom. Or the handful of them that you had just stashed in your bedside table. Or that you hoped that they were the right size.

Assuming the condoms were even needed tonight. Going on a date didn’t automatically mean sex. Matt might not want to. While certain parts of you were more than eager, other parts were nervous. You weren’t a virgin. You had had sex before. Just not a lot. You seemed to be invisible to most guys. The few who hadn’t . . . were a mixed bag. Interested until they realized just how clumsy or awkward you are. Or just wanted sex.

Mike the Boxer had been an exception. The realization that you made better friends than lovers hadn’t been painless for either of you. Not exactly an experience you were eager to repeat, especially with the added complication of being neighbors who lived right across the hall from each other. Things might be good with Mike now but that had taken time. 

And speaking of time, it had been a while since you had sex with someone other than yourself. Unless your sex toys and Fantasy Matt qualified as partners. In which case, you had been having a lot of sex with a partner. In your bed, in the shower, his desk at Nelson, Murdock, & Page . . .

Knock!

You jumped. Was it . . . yes, it was seven. That was probably Matt. You got to your feet and scurried over to the door. While tempting to throw up the door, good sense had you checking the peephole first. It was Matt. The man you had just been thinking about fornicating with you at his workplace. And feeling rather turned on by this idea . . .

You felt your face flush. And gave silent (and somewhat guilty) thanks that Matt had no way to know this. Okay, be cool and he’ll be none the wiser about you thinking dirty thoughts about him. Step one, open the door.

Matt could dress in a potato sack and still be beautiful. This was no potato sack. This was well-fitting jeans encasing those thick thighs in dark blue denim. This was a crimson red tee shirt that was probably one size too small, making it snug enough to emphasize those big pectoral muscles usually hidden by a suit and tie. The brown leather jacket was looser but couldn’t disguise the broadness of his shoulders. His dark auburn hair looked like it had been freshly blow-dried, neat but so fluffy. You longed to bury your hands in it. And bring that smirking, ever so slightly smug mouth closer to yours . . .

“Hello sweetheart.”

You jumped. And flushed even deeper at the realization that, once again, you had been staring at him like an idiot.

“Hi Matt,” you said. “You look . . . good. Very good.”

You just managed to stop yourself from saying ‘Good enough to eat.’ Or ask him to give you a little twirl so you could see if he looked just as good from behind as he did from the front. A thousand bonus points for you.

Even if Matt looked amused enough for you to swear he knew what thoughts were running through your head. Which you didn’t think he did. Pretty sure you would have been asked to keep your horny thoughts to yourself if he could.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said. “You are lovely as well.”

More blood flooded your cheeks. “What makes you say that?”

His eyebrow arched. “Because you are always lovely?”

Which only made you even more flustered.

“Do you mind telling me what you are wearing?” he asked.

“No, no I don’t mind,” you said, then described your outfit. “Is that alright? I know it’s not very dressy-”

“The place we’re going isn’t a dressy place,” he interjected, then seemed to hesitate. Like he was suddenly unsure of himself. It was hard to tell with those dark glasses. “I hope you don’t mind. If you’d rather-”

You shook your head, then remembered that Matt needed words. “No, I prefer not-dressy. Fancy places and I don’t mix.”

“What makes you say that?” Matt asked.

“People expect ladies to wear high heels to fancy places and parties. The only time I tried to wear high heels . . . it didn’t go well.”

“How ‘not well’?”

“Broken ankle and dislocated my shoulder.”

He winced. “Let’s try to avoid a repeat of that.”

“That’s my plan. They also frown on people drawing on napkins.”

Matt chuckled a little. “Good to know. I’ll be sure to warn Foggy.”

“Foggy’s a napkin doodler?”

“Napkins, margins of his notes.” Matt’s smile was very fond. “Only good part of meetings with Burke & Winthrop is Karen describing his doodles to me afterward.”

“Funny?”

“Very.” Matt checked his watch. You tried not to have dirty thoughts about watching his fingers glide along the rim. You were not entirely successful. “And not to rush you but we need to get going if we’re going to make it in time.”

“In time for what?” you asked, grabbing your purse and jacket. Well, technically it was his jacket. Which you should probably return to him at some point . . . but it was supposed to be cold tonight, dipping down into the thirties. You’d give it back to him when he was dropping you back off tonight.

Assuming you didn’t invite him inside.

“It’s a surprise.”

You forced your mind to focus on here and now. And that expected but still somewhat disappointing answer. “Not even a hint?”

His lips twitched. “Sorry, sweetheart, no hints. You’ll see in a little bit.”

“I have to. We established that yesterday.”

Matt started for a moment, then laughed. Loud and delighted, a pleased smile spreading across his face. He had a dimple. You didn’t know he had any dimples. Just when you thought he couldn’t get anymore attractive. “We did.”

He offered his hand to you. “Shall we?”

You took the offered hand. Your hand felt right in his. Like it belonged there. 

You smiled. “We shall.”

There was something almost dream-like about this, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was far from the first time that you had taken a walk with Matt. You had walked home together from Josie’s or the shops. He had asked you to guide him before. But this . . . this was different. 

Perhaps because you never expected Matt to ask you out. Perhaps because you had dreamed of this more than once. Fantasized about taking a walk in the park or visiting the farmers’ market, snuggled into his side as you inspected apples or admired the play of light on the trees. Moments that you could have now, you realized. Assuming this date continues to go well, you could go with Matt to the farmer’s market or for a walk in the park or a thousand other things.

It was a dizzying realization, one that didn’t felt quite real yet. 

But your dreams could never quite replicate Matt’s warmth or how good he smelled. The sense of controlled strength in his grip around your hand, firm but gentle like your hand was something precious and delicate. It was another thing he shared with Mike the Boxer. Mike never forgot how much damage his hands could do.

These differences provided you with a solid anchor that was real. That you weren’t just having another bittersweet dream.

“We’re here.”

You blinked, mind brought back to the present. You looked around to see where he had led you.

The answer was the back of a line to get into . . . you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes to get a better look at the sign . . . The Drunken Duck. You felt your heart skip a beat. The Drunken Duck in Hell’s Kitchen was where the Pixie Dreamgirls were having their little concert. The first stop in a small tour around the tristate area. The very concert that you had been unable to get tickets for.

The others in line were dressed in tees with the band’s name or other merch like your bracelet. And they were excitedly chatting about the band and the upcoming performance.

“Matt . . .” you trailed off, not sure what to say. You hadn’t realized that he even knew who the Pixie Dreamgirls were. While you believed that one day they would be big, right now they were still a local band. One that you only knew about because Lex had stumbled across them one night and spent the next day getting you and Serena addicted to their music.

Lex had been rather disappointed about being scheduled to work tonight. Serena was less disappointed since she had her anniversary with Darien but had talked about attending one of the later dates. The one in Queens later this month for example, all three of you had neither work or a romantic milestone celebration to interfere with seeing the band perform live.

Still your friends had encouraged you to go to the Drunken Duck concert if you wanted. And you had wanted to. Then Lex’s cat Sappho had gotten sick and she needed help with the vet bill. And well Sappho was more important than any concert. There would be other concerts. There wouldn’t be another Sappho.

“Surprise!” Matt said, grinning wide enough to bring that dimple out again. “Is it a good one?”

“The best!” you said. And unable to contain your excitement, you kissed him.

Your boldness seem to take Matt off guard. But only for a moment. Within heartbeats, he was kissing back. The kiss was everything you had dreamed. Those petal soft lips moving against yours, feather light at first but soon firmer and deeper. His hand cradling your jaw . . . his tongue begging for and being granted entrance into your mouth. Your hands in his hair - when had they gotten there - tightening as he teased your tongue into chasing his back to his mouth. He tasted so good . . .

A piercing whistle had you both jumping apart.

The whistler was the bouncer at the entrance of the Drunken Duck, a well-built dark-haired man with a thick beard whose nose had been broken at least twice. He looked vaguely familiar but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember where you had seen him before. It was unlikely to come to you. Your brain was too occupied with how good a kisser Matt was. With those kiss-swollen pink lips and the pulse of want between your legs.

Seeing that he had your attention, the bouncer said, “You’re holding up the line, lovebirds.”

You felt yourself flush. The line ahead of you had indeed gone inside. You were amazed that you and Matt hadn’t been jostled by the people behind you. Very amazed. New Yorkers didn’t have a lot of patience for people wasting their time. The kiss had lasted forever and not long enough in your mind. But you guessed that it either hadn’t lasted enough or the line hadn’t moved while you occupied fast enough to annoy the others behind you.

It probably helped that you didn’t lollygag about getting up to the bouncer and getting your IDs checked. Though the bouncer’s parting comment of “Enjoy the show, Red” was teasing enough to send that flush speeding down your neck.

“Mind guiding me?” Matt asked, after handing over your tickets to the employee at the second door. “I haven’t been to the Drunken Duck before. And it sounds a little crowded in there.”

“No problem!” you said, taking his arm. You put the bouncer out of your mind in favor of guiding Matt. First stop was the bar to get your drinks. 

He was right about how crowded the Duck was. Maneuvering around the excited patrons was a challenge. Everyone was too busy excitedly talking to each other. Very different from Josie’s where the regulars knew Matt was blind and were in the habit of clearing a path for him. But since this wasn’t Josie’s and Matt had already folded up his white cane, you were stuck trying to wade through to the bar without losing each other. 

Which you managed to accomplish. Barely.

Good. You were getting hungry. The Drunken Duck website said there was food. You had been too nervous-excited earlier to eat more than a hardboiled egg and some toast with your coffee. But now you could smell burgers. And your stomach was pointedly reminding you that light breakfast was far too long ago.

“Hungry?” Matt teased.

“A little,” you said, an answer that had Matt’s lips twitching. Like he was holding back a laugh at your very obvious lie. But you were soon distracted away from your embarrassment at your growling stomach by your arrival at the bar. Upon request, the barmaid pulled out a braille copy of their menu along with a glossy version for you.

You or rather your stomach had already decided on a burger. But there were a couple options even when limited to that. All of them sounded good but tonight, you opted to try the veggie burger. Lex had been here before and recommended it. The harder part of picking out something to drink. The drinks menu was far more extensive.

While tempted by some of the mixed drinks, if for no other reason that some of those puns looked fun to say. The Drunken Duck had apparently decided to lean into the name of their business with many, many bird puns. But in the end you opted for a beer. Mixed drinks with punny names were fun but your favorites tended to be sweet enough to make it easy to underestimate how drunk you were getting. Right up until you stood up and found walking even more difficult than usual.

Not something you wanted. First because you embarrassed yourself in front of Matt enough while being stone cold sober. Second because you had it on good authority that you were extremely candid when drunk. And that Drunk You hit on vigilantes.

Serena and Lex claimed that the night you had overdone the cocktails at The Cat’s Meow, you had spotted Daredevil perched on a roof. And then proceeded to loudly compliment his ass. Along with offering to personally inspect his . . . err . . . billy club. According to your friends, the Devil seemed more bemused than angry about these saucy remarks, simply recommending that your friends get you home before you solicited another vigilante.

You don’t remember anything between your fourth drink and waking up with the mother of all hangovers. And you rather hoped that you never would. Drunk You might have the foolhardiness to offer to ride the Devil until he saw God. Sober You had wanted to die from embarrassment after being informed about that offer. Along with all other ones you had apparently made. You really hoped that, if you ever encountered the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen again, that he didn’t recognize you.

Drunk You would absolutely tell Matt how much you would like him to bend you over one of those little round tables in front of the stage. In excruciating detail. Best not to risk it. One beer, then switch to a soft drink. No worries about in vino veritas.

It was a perfect plan.

“What’s your verdict, counselor?” you asked.

Matt smiled. “Leaning toward a burger. Even though those Parmensian-garlic wings do smell delicious.”

You blinked. “If they smell so good, why aren’t you getting them?”

“I’d rather not have garlic breath during our second kiss.”

Your cheeks felt warm. “You want a second kiss?”

“Absolutely,” he said, a hand reaching to cup your cheek. You could no more stop yourself from leaning into it than you could fly. “And a third kiss. And a fourth. Until I’ve kissed you so many times that you can no longer count them.”

“That sounds . . . nice,” you said. Actually it sounded wonderful. So wonderful that you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure that you weren’t dreaming.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Matt agreed. “And if I asked to kiss you right now?”

“I’d say yes,” you said, your voice gone breathy and your heart racing.

“Then I’m asking.”

“Yes.”

And then he was kissing you.

Kissing Matt was just as heady the second time as it was the first time. A feast for the senses. The softness of his lips contrasting with the roughness of his beard under your palms . . . the taste of his mouth, mostly the sharp coolness of mint but underneath something that you couldn’t describe but desperately needed . . . that simple blend of leather, plain soap, paper, and man filling your nose . . . his warmth . . . 

You whined when he pulled away.

“Sorry sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead. He sounded like he was genuinely regretful that he had stopped kissing you. “As much as I’d love to kiss you all night, the show starts in about twenty minutes.”

And you still needed to order your meal and find a table in this crowd. Damnit. You took a deep breath. Then a second one. Until you felt like you could control the urge to climb Matt like a tree. It only took a minute but it felt longer. Especially when the bartender taking your orders gave you both knowing looks. At this rate, your face was gonna be locked in a permanent flush.

Matt paid, under the rock solid logic that he had invited you out. So paying for things during this date was his responsibility. You made a silent promise to yourself to use his own argument against him some day.

The tables arrayed around the stage were even more crowded. And more compacted than around the bar. You had to press tightly against Matt’s side in order for you to walk together. Which wasn’t exactly a hardship. But between guiding Matt while trying not to spill your beer among the tangle of chair legs and feet, it was no surprise that you stumbled.

Alone, you would have ended up on your ass covered in beer. If you were lucky and didn’t knock your head against the table. But you weren’t alone. At the first hint of a fall, one powerful arm snaked around your waist and pressed you against his body. And amazingly you managed to not to lose your grip on your glass. It just sloshed a little.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he rumbled into your ear.

You bite your lip. His breath on the shell of your ear sent tingles down your spine. But his voice, huskier than usual, went straight to your cunt. Matt made a soft noise, almost a whine before nuzzling your neck. “You smell so good.”

This did nothing to cool the heat raging through your body. “Thank you?”

He chuckled. The vibration of it made you shudder. And press your thighs together. It took immense willpower to pull your mind out of the gutter. Thankfully the table you were aiming for wasn’t much further as you were feeling rather weak at the knees. Luck was with you as the table remained free. Maybe because it wasn’t as close to the stage as possible? Maybe if it had been you and your friends, you would have aimed for that one ten feet to the right but you thought it was a little close to the guitar’s amplifier for Matt’s comfort.

Again, you had no idea if the old chestnut about blind people having better senses was true but you had seen him flinch at loud noises. You’d prefer Matt without a migraine. It would put an end to any ideas of hanky-panky tonight. Something you were seriously considering. From the dampness in your panties, you knew your cunt was fully on board with this idea.

Anyway . . . the table you had chosen had a decent enough view. Not the best but the point of a concert wasn’t the visuals. It was the music. And you didn’t need to be close to enjoy that.

Matt didn’t dispute your choice, pulling out your chair for you. Nuzzling your neck once more, his lips brushed across the skin behind your ear. It was the barest touch and yet it felt like a brand. The arm around your waist gave you a squeeze before slowly sliding off so you could sit down. 

Before sitting himself, Matt slipped off his leather jacket. And you felt your mouth go dry.

Those arms . . . your hands itched to explore. You wanted to follow the line of every muscle from those broad shoulders down to the sinewy forearms, enjoying the transition from smooth skin to a healthy covering of dark hair. Trace the veins and scars brought into sharp relief by the bar’s angled lighting with your fingertips . . .  you still didn’t think you could wrap your hand entirely around his bicep. But it would be fun to try, digging your nails while he . . .

“Sweetheart?”

You have got to stop thinking about Matt fucking you while he was less than three feet from you. And maybe actually talk to him. Even if it was really hard not to get distracted by that smirking mouth, wondering what else it could do.

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “Got lost in my head for a minute there.”

“Happens to all of us,” Matt said.

You sipped your beer and cast your mind around for something to talk about. Fortunately the reason for being here provided an easy one. “I didn’t know you liked Pixie Dreamgirls.”

He smiled. “I hadn’t heard of them before you and Serena moved in. But I kept hearing you singing their songs and liked what I heard.”

“I’m glad you liked them despite my singing.”

He shook his head. “Because of your singing.”

“That’s kind of you to say,” you said. You could carry a tune well enough but knew perfectly well that your singing voice was nothing to write home about.

“Just the truth. You have a lovely voice.”

Your cheeks burned. “I do not.”

“You do,” he insisted, his voice firm and brokering no argument. “My eyes might not work but my hearing is excellent. Trust me, sweetheart, I could listen to you all day.”

You felt that flush spread down your neck. Your fingers fidgeted with your bracelet. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Not at all,” he said. “I’m completely serious.”

You shook your head in disbelief. He sounded serious but he had to be exaggerating. No one would want to listen to you yammer on all day. Not even your family or friends who loved you dearly. Matt was unfortunately aware of just much nonsense started to spill out of your mouth when panicked, he had witnessed The Tale of Two Breads among others. There was no way . . .

“You just want to know how far I can fit my foot in my mouth.”

“While it is always interesting to see what your mind comes up with,” he said before his grin shifted into a wicked smirk. “Your foot wasn’t the body part I had in mind.”

“Good to know,” you squeaked out, fresh blood flooding your cheeks. Among other places. Along with bringing to mind your own thoughts on that topic. More than once, you had imagined yourself kneeling between his legs and taking him in your mouth. Wondered how he would taste, how much your jaw would ache afterward . . . what kind of noises he’d make as his thighs trembled under your hands . . .

And just like that your mind was back in the gutter. You shook your head vigorously. You weren’t usually this feral. Was it because you hadn’t gotten laid since you moved into 6B? Were you ovulating? Or was Matt Murdock just so hot that it was impossible to look at him without thots? Some combination of all three?

Or was that smugness in that smirk made it oh-so-tempting to imagine him underneath you, moaning and lost in pleasure . . .

“What’s your favorite Pixie song?” Matt asked, interrupting your dirty thoughts. The smirk hadn’t gone away but he seemed genuinely interested in your answer.

“Er . . . Lavender,” you answered. You empathize with the protagonist giving their crush bouquets of lavender, wishing that they’d recognized the message of love and devotion someday.

“Curious,” he said, then his smirk grew. “I would have thought Candy Apple Red. You sing it a lot.”

Whatever blood had managed to drain out of your face promptly returned. Lyrics about painting your lover’s body with bright red lipstick had provoked thoughts . . . many thoughts. . . ones that would be even more vivid now that you knew how good Matt looked in red.

“And what’s your favorite Pixie song?” you asked quickly. Before your mind could conjure another fantasy. If you couldn’t reign in this horniness soon, you’d need to excuse yourself to the bathroom for some relief.

He made a thoughtful humming sound before his smirk faded into something more sober. Something vulnerable. “Burnt Offerings. It really spoke to me.”

Not difficult to understand why that one would resonate so strongly - a sad but beautiful song about struggling with one’s faith after losing a loved one. You knew about one of those losses but knew there could be more. There was a lot you didn’t know about Matt. You slowly reached out for his hand, uncertain if he would accept comfort. But at the first tentative touch of your hand, he laced your fingers together. You breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.

Neither of you spoke, just held hands, but the silence between you didn’t feel uncomfortable. You only released his hand with one last squeeze when your meals arrived at the table. As much as you would love to keep holding his hand . . . it was a big burger. If you tried eating that with one hand, half of it was going to end up on your shirt. Been there, done that. You lost too many shirts to the staining power of mustard. Or raspberry jam. Or so many other things. Not happening this time. You liked this shirt.

Your burger was good. Which you appreciated. It was easy to screw up a veggie burger. Matt seemed to find his first bites of cheese burger just as enjoyable. The fries were just as good - golden and crisp on the outside, warm and fluffy inside. You’d be adding this bar and grill to the list of good places.

It looked like Matt agreed with you. His first bite had been small, more like a nibble. Then with what looked like relief, his next bites had been bigger. But not hurried. He took the time to enjoy what he was eating. It was a routine you recognized. Both from his patronage of The Daily Grind and your own life.

“You’re a member of the club too, aren’t you?” you said.

“Which club?” Matt asked, his head tilting slightly to one side. Like a curious dog. How cute.

“The Fussy-Eaters Club,” you said.

“Ah yes, I have . . .” he paused, thinking about how to word it. “A discerning palette, I guess. For example, I can tell that Abby prefers Ceylon cinnamon for the Grind’s famous cinnamon rolls as well as its chai but uses cassia in things like the spice cake and gingerbread”

You blinked, surprised. While some customers had commented on the subtle floral notes of the cinnamon in the chai, the only people you had seen correctly identify it as Ceylon cinnamon were chefs and bakers. While Matt seemed to live on take out. There was never cooking or baking smells emanating from his apartment. To the point that you were pretty sure the only home-cooked food he got was from you and Serena or Mrs. Gonzales or that older woman you had seen visiting him when he had the flu last fall that looked a lot like Foggy.

“Supertaster to go with your super nose and excellent hearing?” you said. “Are you gonna save any senses for the rest of us?”

He laughed. An oddly relieved laugh. You had the sudden feeling that you had passed some kind of test that you hadn’t realized that you were taking. “You’ve got the super eye, remember?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t have a super eye just because I can tell the difference between dark navy blue and black.”

“Save Foggy from appearing in court with a mismatched suit. You know the press would have been all over that. Everyone loves hating on the defense attorney.”

“Right up until they need one.”

“Right up until they need one,” he agreed. “So far, how does dinner and a concert measure up against axe-throwing?”

“Axe-throwing?” You repeated, almost unable to believe your own ears.

“Yeah, Google recommended it as a fun first date activity.”

“Really, axe-throwing?”

“Yep. Right between live music and a walk in the park.”

“Well, it’s something different,” you said. “Be memorable.”

“Very,” Matt said. A mischievous grin split his face. “Should we do that for our second date?”

You giggled even as your heart soared with joy. He wanted a second date!  “I don’t know Matt, blind axe throwing sounds more like a third date thing.”

“Hmm, you’re right. Back to the drawing board.” He pretended to think for a moment. “How about dinner at the new Thai place on 46? I haven’t been yet but it smells divine.”

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling.

Any further conversation was curtailed by Fayola, the lead singer of the Pixie Dreamgirls, asking the audience if they were ready for some music. A resounding Yes! was her answer.

“Well, then,” she said. “Let’s get this party started!”

You felt Matt’s hand lace your fingers together as the first notes of Call Down The Moon filled the air.

It had been hard not to skip all the way home. You were so happy. You had just seen a favorite band perform live and it had been so much fun. Your belly was filled with good food and drink. And you were on a date with Matt.

Matt who had taken every opportunity tonight to hold your hand. Who had listened to your excited gushing all the way home with that fond, little smile that made your heart go pitter-patter. Who had kissed you twice and was probably planning on kissing you again now that you were at your front door.

But you had another idea. One that had your heart racing with a combination of anticipation and nerves.

“Hey, Matt?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Do you want to come in for some coffee?” you asked, hoping he picked up on what you were really asking. There was no one else in the hallway but you had to be ladylike. Couldn’t just come out and say ‘I want you to fuck me stupid tonight.’

And it seemed like he had picked on what you hadn’t said, squeezing your hand. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then,” he said, his voice husky. “I’d love some coffee.”

To be continued . . .

AUTHOR’S NOTES

Thank you Mama Sapph (@sunflowersandsapphires) on Tumblr for brainstorming help.

Hidaka Steakhouse, Cool Beans, Empire State University, Druken Duck Bar & Grill, and The Cat’s Meow are, as far I know, entirely made up businesses. 

Pixie Dreamgirls also exists only in my head. It consists of three members - lead vocals/guitar, keyboard, and drums. Has two albums - Rainbow Magic and Call Down The Moon.

Freshly-ground coffee usually tastes fresher that anything pre-ground, provided the beans have been stored properly.

Tri-State Area or Greater New York means New York City, downstate New York, northern and central New Jersey, and western Connecticut but increasingly these days eastern Pennslyvania.

In vino veritas is Latin phrase meaning In wine, lies truth. It is referencing how people can be forthright after having their inhibitions lowered by alcohol.

According to a symbolism book, lavender means love and devotion in the language of flowers.

Cinnamon is a general name for the bark of five related trees that used as a spice. The Ceylon variety or true cinnamon is a milder flavor with more floral and spicy notes than cassia or Chinese cinnamon but cassia stands up better to longer cooking or in dishes with other strong flavors where the Ceylon might go unnoticed. Cassia is more common on the US market than Ceylon - the cinnamon at your supermarket is probably Cassia. Ceylon is more likely to be found at a speciality store and be more expensive.

Axe-throwing really was suggested by Google when I searched for fun first date ideas.

[der-schweizer]

On day one of Cheesemelt: Newborn

Vlad adjusted the mixture of the pod again, adding point zero zero two four percent more ectoplasma into the mixture. Considering the last six tests on the clones stability, this would future improve it.

He moved to the next pod, and was just about to adjust it by the same amount when an alarm blared behind him. Pod one was blaring and its emergency light was on, indicating a catastrophic error.

Moving quickly over, he took a look at the control panel, seeing that the pod had already entered the abort phase and was about to expel its contents. Vlad scowled at it, each clone cost him approximately five million dollars. He could stomach one dissolving after it finished its gestation but during it? No, that wouldn't be accepted.

He took two steps back to avoid the minor deluge of amniotic fluid, he didn’t wish to get any on his dress shoes if he could, before stepping back forward and looking down at the little thing inside it. Taking another look at the control panel told him that this was clone ‘dmf/s4-6’.

With a sigh, Vlad went and retrieved a towel from a nearby rack. He quickly wrapped the tiny thing in the towel and moved over to a spare pod. It would be madness to not have some form of backup in case something happened to them.

He began inputting the necessary commands and parameters in the control panel before pausing at a slight tug on his fly. He looked down to see a pair of brilliant blue eyes look up at him. The clone's tiny fist had grabbed the lower string of his fly and had given it a tug. 

It made a warbling noise before tugging again, undoing his fly. It made a happy warbling noise at that.

Vlad let out another sigh, before taking the piece of cloth from it. “Nono, this is not a toy.” It took a surprising amount of strength to pull it from the clone, only for it to burst out into an ear piercing wail, tears forming in its eyes and both hands making grabbing motions for the fly.

Gritting his teeth, he handed it back to the clone, which immediately caused it to shut up and go back to playing with it. He looked down with a mixture of annoyance and disdain, thinking about how he was going to get his fly back without causing another crying session.

He recalled that babies often went to sleep after being bathed, and considering there was still the smell of amniotic fluid on it he might as well wash it. So he carried the clone over to the chemical disposal sink, clogged the drain and let in warm water.

Unwrapping the clone proved difficult due to it not cooperating at all, only for it to realise that the water was nice and then it began to splash around whilst making more happy warbling noises.

Vlad huffed, then folded up his sleeves and went to clean the clone. “Hold still you little.” It proved much more difficult than he had anticipated, mostly because the clone kept splashing around.

Despite all of that, it didn’t appear tired at all, Vlad let out an exasperated huff, wondering what else he had to do to get it to sleep. Maybe some food would help. He briefly wondered if he even had food for infants.

Danny didn’t trust the silence that surrounded Vlad. He had seen neither hide nor hair from the frootloop and it was slowly putting him on edge. A quiet Vlad was a sceeming Vlad.

It was how he found himself outside of his Wisconsin mansion, wondering if going there was a good idea, but he had to know, even if it bit him. So he rang the doorbell, and waited, and waited, and waited some more.

Just as he was about to ring again the door opened, revealing a Vlad that had rings under his eyes, crumpled clothes and very messy hair. “M’ye?”

“Vlad? Are…are you okay?”

The man looked more asleep than awake right now and was that sauce on his shirt?

"Duno."

[romirola]

Hey! First off, I just gotta say I love your work! The way you characterize everyone always feels so deep and full of thought, and it just adds onto the already interesting stories that you have going.

One character that I always enjoy reading from the perspective of in any fic is Babe, but one thing I've noticed is that there's not a ton done in regard to their dynamics with certain pack members across the fandom. While there are plenty of works out there featuring their dynamic with Asher (of course), Angel, Sweetheart, and sometimes darlin' and sam, I feel that there's rarely any exploration done with their dynamics with Milo and David. Longwinded preamble aside, I'm curious how you would describe your personal view of their dynamic with the two. Is there anything in specific you approach it with when writing?

Thanks!

Hi, Anon! Hey, thanks so much for stopping by and sending this ask. It means so much to me, and I really appreciate it. <3

Babe is an incredibly fun character to write and to read about. I love their tenacity and heart. I love their dry sense of humor, their ability to see the big picture, their courage, and even their vulnerability when the time is right.

As fun as it is to write bona fide Asher/Babe-centric stories, I also really enjoy mixing things up by having Babe interact with other members of the pack. Your question has been so much fun to think about!

I think one thing that's really important to note about Babe is that they are the FIRST unempowered mate of the Shaw Pack ever. That's a lot of pressure. To integrate into a world of magic is hard enough, but to be thrust into the role of beta-mate while trying to navigate this huge change in perspective? Babe strikes me as the type to want to know as much as possible, to fill in all those knowledge gaps as best they can, and to do so on their own because they don't want to be dependent on Asher. I headcanon that Babe can often be found at at the Empowered section of the Dahlia Library, studying as much as they can about not just shifter culture, but empowered society in general. They attend lectures, seek out classes, read on their own. Whatever it takes.

That's something I bring to bear on their relationship with David especially. Babe wants to be a capable, supportive mate to Asher. They want to make sure that his best friend and alpha views them as an asset to Asher, not a burden. So I think when it comes to David, especially early on, they often try to "prove" to him they aren't just some informed-idiot. (Apparently, they discover, that's a common phrase in magical society.) David always saw Babe as a wonderful addition to Asher's life, not so much for their knowledge (though he is often impressed by them), but because of their love for Asher. David sees the difference. Asher is more confident with them. He shares ideas more readily. He takes charge more frequently. He breathes a little easier. And David loves to see that. He never struggles with Babe, finding himself enjoying both conversation and silence with them. And lately, I've even gotten the chance to explore the deep connection I know David and Babe share. My current fic, The Prince Shifter, is an AU where I've cast Babe and David as cousins. Having that dynamic has really allowed me to explore a very comfortable vibes between them. AU and Canon, I think Babe has the guts to always tell David what he needs to hear, and David really respects that. They just... click.

When it comes to Milo, I think he and Babe hit it off right away, much to Babe's utter surprise. They know they come off as stony, stoic, even abrasive. It's usually hard for them to make friends, despite the friendliness and care lurking just below their surface. But Milo seems to take them in stride, never pushing for more than they are willing to give, yet very willing to meet them right where they are. It's fun. The pair really enjoy spending time together, plus Milo loves to see Asher fall in love with his person. There's a really small , brief moment in It Was the First Time (Things Felt Normal Again) where Babe helps Milo breathe as he suffers through a bout of "magic-stroke" (his post-Inversion injuries), and it's honestly a nice moment that I think demonstrates their bond.

Something I should probably also mention that underscores just how much Milo and David appreciate Babe: I headcanon Asher has had a string of truly awful partners. Users, cheaters, and worse. People who just took-took-took from a nice guy willing to give so much of himself over, and expecting nothing in return. It broke Asher's friends' hearts every time to see the relationship crash and burn, usually with Asher feeling devastated. David and Milo initially presumed Babe was going to be the same. Until... they realized, this was different. Babe was different. And they couldn't be more glad.

What do you think, Anon? That was long-winded, but I do so love the opportunity to talk about this stuff! Please do feel free to reach any time!

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Related to our latest posts + some other shorter ones!

thestarlightfae asked:

Hi Ryu! Hi Katsu! Do you two happen to have a timeline for Vil? By timeline, I mean which of his designs correspond with which ages. Thanks!

Hi hi!

It’s kind of vague, to be honest; the only thing that’s been concrete from the start in our posts is that younger Vil probably had shorter hair. And then we usually jump straight to the freshman!Vil, and with him I am kind of inconsistent; my earlier comics and drawings of him have him with pretty much the same hairstyle that he has now (w/o his bun and his crown though), but these days I draw him with shorter hair as well. For some reason, I like this better than freshman!Vil having very long hair…

I also like to think that Vil only started braiding his hair during his 3rd year at NRC, to give himself more of a regal matriarch look?? But that’s just an idea I’m playing with in my head. In fact, I think the best way to describe it would be to imagine Vil having all kinds of haircuts throughout the years because there is no way he wouldn’t want to play around with this. But what I think and what I draw are two different things…

It’s just like with Crewel. I want his younger self to experiment with hairstyles a lot, but always end up drawing the same one lol

Anonymous asked:

ive seen malleus depicted as a shota, i think thats my favorite of the cast to shotafy next to idia. your thoughts?

Honestly, all of them are great, ever since that one ask I keep thinking about shota versions as the next birthday cards theme, it would be so cool lol

But yeah, Malleus’ upbringing was very complicated, and he looks very cute when he is still clearly very young, but already has this air of a prince about him. Not to mention all the potential difficulties growing up as a little dragon ahem………… I think I draw him this way pretty often, but I should do it more lol

I also love drawing Vil and Ortho and the Tweels and Azul and Rook; I think those are the ones I draw the most. Oh! Sebek and Silver as well.

originalblossomer asked:

Hi! I love your art very much! In fact, I love it so much, I registered on Bluesky exclusively to see more of you. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you. Lots of love!💗💗

Ahhh this is so sweet!! Thank you so much for your kindness!! I hope you keep enjoying my stuff, and I’ll sure as hell keep posting hehe.

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I have to say that, even if i don't really support some of your ideas/ships, i've to admit that your artwork it's simply gorgeous and they inspire me as an artist. My question is, is there any ship that it's just a big no? Or that you find overrated that it just doesn't have any appeal :0?

Thank you so much, Anon! I’m glad that my stuff could inspire you in any way, that’s very cool to hear.

I don’t want anyone to feel bad, so that’s just my personal opinion and I know people who like those pairings follow me, but I really really really don’t care for Leona/Vil and Trey/Jade. There are a lot of Leona ships in general that I don’t really care for, but somehow Leona/Vil squicks even more than Malleus/Leona does.

Anonymous asked:

dont know if this is unpopular but i dont care at all about grim. i love the boys and that's what im there for. grim is a forgettable mascot to me. interested to hear any other takes.

We didn’t really care for Grim at first too, but during our rewatch started to appreciate him more, to be honest. He is not all that bad, and he is kind of cute sometimes.

To be honest, I kind of forget that he and/or Yuu exist a lot of times lol But I like Grim! Especially when he lowers his ears all sadly…

Anonymous asked:

I really love how sharp you draw rook's eyes, very pretty ❤️

Ahh thank you so much!!! <3 I love drawing his eyes! Hehehe

Anonymous asked:

For twst who has piercings and where?

Actually replied here!

Now the art-related asks, starting with the ones about the ADeuce drawing from yesterday:

Anonymous asked:

It look so… peaceful, no sex or anything erotic, only two pal doing homework .… at 2 a.m ?!

Maybe this is why Ace looks so done… he had other plans, but Deuce’s been doing his homework for hours now… it’s so late already and it’s still not over lol

Anonymous asked:

Where the collar? Eh?

THAT’S WHY IT’S TAKING THIS LONG! Poor Deuce is just waiting for Ace to leave so he can put his collar on and finally focus!!

Wow, these two aren’t getting anywhere huh They have a long night ahead of them…

Anonymous asked:

What his skin make of, silicon?

Probably! Very soft one, very pleasant to the touch.

Anonymous asked:

Ortho and Vil are so cute <3 love this little interaction! Ortho has the squishiest cheeks for someone without actual cheeks

Thank you, Anon <3 Ortho absolutely does have the squishiest cheeks! Vil should poke them and squish them as a stress toy lol

Anonymous asked:

OHH RYYYYYYYUUU! That shota jackvil is so GOOD! 💚 and I'm really in love with the way you draw shota Vil 👀💚.

Thank you so much, Anon!! I am happy you like it! <3

Vil is a little charmer lol I love drawing him being a sassy little guy that doesn’t quite fit in with the “normal” boys…

Anonymous asked:

I love how you draw azuls hair, It looks supper fluffy. Like if i were to touch it it would just spring back like memory foam type of fluff.

Thank you so much, Anon!! <3 I feel like I have good and bad days with Azul’s hair… so I am very happy it looks good!

The texture of the memory foam though, this is such a good way to describe it…

Anonymous asked:

Sometime, we don't need sex, just something wholesome like a nerd kiss a crystal star.

Facts.

It’s all about the contrasts…. For now this cute nerd can look wholesome in this outfit <3 For now.

Anonymous asked:

Those armpits.

I have serious problem

You’re not alone, Anon, the stargazer outfit is insane.

Anonymous asked:

That one hell goddess!!

If that was the goddess of Hell… I wouldn’t mind believing in it….

Anonymous asked:

There more you can kiss

This is why Idia didn’t go ask for those wishes in person, because people would start listing things that he can kiss.

Anonymous asked:

Mhmmm, pizza boy… i mean pizza. Yeah, pizza

The boy is also there! And he is waiting for his tip!

Anonymous asked:

*insert SpongeBob meme about the pizza here*

Also if that pizza isn't good, jade better be giving some other sort of food to make up for it.

Oh, he has some mushrooms in a bag in his pocket, do you want some? He wouldn’t mind sharing~

Anonymous asked:

After Lady Floyd we have Jade the delivery man

Anonymous asked:

Blessing us with fem tweels in separate accounts.. i can't thank you enough 🙏🏻

Thank you for appreciating the ladies, Anons <3 And Jade the delivery man lol

It was actually a coincidence, that Jade from the locked acc was supposed to be posted much earlier than that, but the timing ended up being perfect lol

I am glad you’re enjoying it!

Anonymous asked:

I don't know, Leona being too lazy to jerk off, yeah, that sounds so right to me... like so entirely correct...

I don't even have further thoughts on that, it's just like... yeah, that's true

(related to a reply from a week ago)

lol being lazy is art… not just anyone could get this lazy, you know…

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience *BONUS CHAPTER*: ~The last night in the beach house!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: You and Kyoya have to spend one more night at the beach house....alone. ➼ what to expect:  ➼ warnings: None

The beach house is quiet this morning, the rest of the house club had returned home the previous night. For reasons you didn't quite understand Kyoya had to stay there another night, meaning you also had to stay there.

As much as you bizarrely enjoyed your time with the host club you had to admit the tranquility of the almost empty beach house was something you enjoyed, taking in the sights from one of the bay windows.

It was a far cry from your home on the other side of the world. Although it has been so long since you've been there it feels almost fictional to you.

"Taking in the sights?" Kyoya nearly scared you out of your skin, deadly quiet as he snuck up behind you "Your family certainly chose a good spot" he hummed in agreement "What can I say? Good taste runs in the family" You laugh through a hum, leaning against the wall. "I was just coming to ask what food you want to order in? I've decided to give the kitchen staff the night off since it is just the two of us here"

"That is very...kind of you, Kyoya" You smile, that is not a move you had expected Kyoya to take, he would never admit it but Tamaki has been rubbing off on him. When you think over the question an idea sneaks into your mind "Forget ordering food though."

He raises an eyebrow "Huh?" you nod over your shoulder for him to follow you, walking down the hallway toward the kitchen "You still want to learn about my home country?" Kyoya, who catches up with you, a smile taking over him as he realised what you were getting at.

The door to the kitchen swings open with a squeak. "You're going to cook?" Kyoya questions as you search through the kitchen "no" You laugh, taking ingredients from the pantry. "WE are going to cook"

Kyoya could laugh, he cannot name a time that he has ever actually cooked, he has never needed to. You catch on to his thought process just from the look on his face "Kyoya just because we are rich does not mean we aren't above cooking for ourselves, it can be fun"

Kyoya shakes his head, leaning against the counter. "I cannot see why, it is just a necessary process to feed yourself, I don't see why one would do it if they do not need to" you roll your eyes "You say that because you've never tried it, trust me, it'll be easy"

Kyoya picks himself up, "Fine" he huffed, you hand him a knife "You can chop the panchetta" you had to admit that there was something quite entertaining to you about bossing Kyoya around, knowing it is a rare occasion.

"Do you miss home often?" You pause at the question, not looking up from the hob. "I...yes...well, I miss the country, my town" you reply, placing the pasta in the pot. "I must admit that while I have enjoyed my time here Japan has yet to feel like home to me"

Kyoya nodded knowingly, moving to ouran had been a big change for you, and a rough transition. In a strange way being a part of the host club helped with that. Yet lately it has felt different, slightly more comfortable. Things were changing.

"Are you going back for the summer break?" Noticing that he had finished chopping the panchetta you take it from him to fry "No, I'm going to Karuizawa instead, here" You crack an egg into a bowl in front of him, showing him the rest "Karuizawa? Why go there?"

"I...have something I need to do there" you smile, taking the bowl. "Anyway, we need to mix in the cheese" kyoya squinted at you while you made the sauce. "Would you mind draining the pasta?" You look over your shoulder at him, distracted by mixing.

Kyoya looked slightly clueless as he clumsily figured out exactly what to do. Eventually you manage to pull together two dishes for the both of you, sat up on the counter as you eat. "I...I don't think I ever said thank you by the way" He raises an eyebrow, eyes lighting up as he tastes the dish "What for?"

"You know what for, I had a conversation with your father today" his face fell into one of horror "your 'duty of care' is to keep me from being physically harmed, nothing else. which means that everything else..."

"y/n." His voice was somehow weak and stern at the same time, cutting you off but the message had already gotten across, it was too late. "It's fine, you don't have to acknowledge it, I don't even need to if you don't want me to, but thank you anyway"

"You're...welcome" he cleared his throat, you giggle at his mildly flustered state. at it was then that you realised exactly what was happening here. This was a hang out, you two were hanging out. When did that happen? Since when was that a thing that the two of you do?

Things were changing. Things ARE changing. You two are no longer two colleagues who sit at the the same table for coffee anymore, only talking if it is for business. It was a strange notion, a strange feeling, but you didn't hate it.

Next time on patience 'A day in the life of the L/N family!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372

[666writingcafe]

The Angel's Halo

Once MC and I give my brothers the medicine and supplies they need to get through the day, we decide to spend some time out of the house. After all, there's not much more we can do there at the moment that would be beneficial to my brothers.

"Do you want to grab a bite to eat?" MC asks as we begin walking.

"Good idea," I tell them. "Azzy was going on and on about this new cafe that's supposed to be opening today. He mentioned it's not too far from here."

"What's it called?" Normally, names don't really stick in my brain, but this particular one stood out to me so much that it's practically engraved on there.

"The Angel's Halo." MC snorts in amusement. "Yeah, that was kind of my reaction, too."

Here's the thing: I figured that someone from the Celestial Realm was gonna be following us close behind once we got settled here in the human world. I mean, from my understanding, MC was more or less blessed by Michael to wear Lucifer's old ring; he probably wants to make sure he made the right decision, which means keeping an eye on both them and us to make sure that they remain "pure" enough.

If he's smart, he would have sent Simeon. He's the one that would raise the least amount of suspicion. And I suppose the little chihuahua would have to tag along. It would be cruel for his owner to leave him behind.

Sure enough, as we approach the entrance to the new cafe, Luke's outside, twirling a sign around.

"I'm surprised he's able to do that," MC quietly observes. "He's never been the most coordinated."

"He probably needs a break," I reply. "Who knows how long he's been doing that trick." MC playfully glares at me before walking up to the young angel, who accidentally hits them in the face with the sign. I silently watch to make sure MC's alright, but once the two of them begin catching up with each other, I duck inside.

"Well, hello there, Mammon." Simeon looks up from wiping the counter. Despite the smile he gives me, I can tell something's off with him.

"It's Mason around here," I reply, sitting down on one of the stools in front of the counter. "And you're lucky I'm here. If Azzy came like he wanted to, he'd be freaking out about the bags under your eyes." Simeon gently throws the towel he was using over his shoulder.

"I haven't been able to get much sleep. Getting this place set up has been a lot more work than I had anticipated."

"Clearly." He's hiding something. I've never seen him look this exhausted, not even when we were living together in the Celestial Realm and he was still one of the Seraphim.

"I'm sure you're wondering why we're here." I shrug.

"I mean, Michael probably sent ya down here, right?" Simeon hums affirmatively.

"Officially, we've been appointed to help coordinate relations between the human world and the Celestial Realm." He's given me an opening. If he didn't want me to dig further, he wouldn't have said "officially".

"And unofficially?" He glances outside, presumably to make sure that MC and Luke are still preoccupied.

"He's testing me," he whispers.

"Testing you? For what? A promotion?" Simeon sighs, shaking his head.

"I've gotten into a bit of trouble. One of my notebooks was discovered." Okay...

"But you're a writer, right? Like, you've gotten permission to do that."

"Yes, and if that was what was found, nothing would have come of it, but this particular one was more of a personal journal. The contents inside are, shall we say, things that no angel ought to even be thinking about, let alone express into words."

"They shouldn't have been snooping in the first place."

"You forget, the Celestial Realm believes that nothing should be kept secret. Everything must eventually come to light." Simeon pauses. "Plus, I accidentally left it in a public space. The person who found it was merely trying to discover whose it was so that they could return it to its rightful owner."

"Dude, what exactly were you writing about in there?" He sighs again.

"In a word, corruption." Oh shit. Well, no wonder he's in trouble.

"Of yourself, or someone else?"

"Technically both, but I'm the active party."

"Please tell me it isn't Luke." Simeon widens his eyes.

"Absolutely not. He's merely a child. I wouldn't do that to him."

"Then who..." Right as I begin asking the question, I answer it for myself. "Oh, Simeon." He gives me a tired smile.

"I know." He glances outside once more. "Believe me, I've tried to keep these thoughts at bay, but I can't help it. I mean, how can someone's soul grow brighter after spending a significant amount of time with all seven Avatars of Sin? It makes no sense, Mam--Mason."

"And it upsets you, doesn't it?"

"It's more frustrating than upsetting. I know it's wrong, but there's a part of me that feels like..." He trails off, trying to regain his composure. "If I were to fall, I'd want to take them down with me." Oh my...I had no idea that MC made him feel that way.

"You're lucky that you're merely getting tested."

"Yes and no. This little test of his will determine the severity of my punishment. If I behave myself, then I simply have to be supervised when I'm writing. And do a few extra tasks, but that's not a big deal."

"And if you don't?"

"You mean, if I succumb to temptation?" I nod my head. I hear the door open. Simeon leans in close, trying to make sure that neither Luke or MC can hear him.

"Then I might as well not be an angel anymore."

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!