#bow and say your thanks

[vividraft]

HAAAAAAA HOLY SHITTTTT

can I have random sentences, I want to make a vocaloid song out of them. Please make them as unique as possible.

[noosayog]

childhood best friends with ushijima means that he told you what happened during his first encounter with hinata and kageyama and you smack him over the head with a rolled up notebook for being so condescending to first-year students he doesn't even know

[unriding]

EVIE !!!!!

I SAW U USE MY ART AS UR THEME SO I WANNA DO A REMAKE !!! mostly cause the other one was full of mistaks hurrrrr orz

keeping the color palette the same so itd still fit + use softer shading so convey how soft u are + moze is now IN UR HAND !!!! >:3

oh nick :’)

[anatheyma]

spencer made me a sexy ass pride month pfp

[licorishh]

Hey as a super introverted but not shy person I'd just like to say the jokes about extroverts "adopting" introverts to "get them out of their shell" are actually completely unfunny and it just goes to show how little respect a lot of y'all have for the fact that we genuinely don't want excessive social interaction and that y'all are forcing us to do something that brings us extreme physical and mental discomfort because you perceive our introversion as a failing rather than as purely a difference in personality.

We don't need your "help" to socialize. We're not children. We're simply not interested in spending every waking second of our lives talking to people and being talked at in return.

[papermachedragons]

YOU'RE THE MERWAINCELOT 40K ANON FROM THE OTHER YEAR???!!!! 😱😱 take the throne, by all means, it sounds like an absolute whopper of a fic 😍😍😍

I AM!!! AHHHH!!

You got me, I totally am 😝🙈

Look look look. While I am rubbing my hands in excitement and plotting like (a slightly menacing) little gremlin to take the merwaincelot tag with storm, I respect you (and love your fics) far too much to take the throne. I just wanna share it with you! You brought me into the merwaincelot world with just one fic and I already started writing merwaincelot after that, and then when I read even more of your fics (more than once), I was so inspired that it changed some of the ways I had written the pairing and how they interact with each other in such a relationship. I just wanna hang out with you in this tag so baaaaaad c:

When I am telling you, you're not ready for this fic, you don't even know how much you're not ready for this fic. It's got intrigue, it's got mystery, it's got true-to-the-series-episode-like-formula; it's got a magic "foe" that isn't just a villain-sorcerer-of-the-week-because-merlin-needs-to-defeat-some-bad-guys-and-throw-magic-around; it's got soft moments, tender moments, angst and, I kid you not, so much merwaincelot, it could tide you over for a full year

So yes. I am that anon 👻

I did take a screenshot of your answer back then, and your words still help me if I'm feeling a little hopeless about it all. But truly, most of the time, I get by with just writing for me and making myself happy with writing what I want. I'm just excited to share that with the rest of you on this merwaincelot boat when I get to it 💛

[thomine]

TELL ME 5 RANDOM THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF!

(Let's try and pass this thing on) And after you finish, tag five different people just to tell them how much you appreciate them for being with you on this platform! <3

thank you @sarcasticqueerblob for the tag! decided to make my own post because the original post is long & my contributions will make it worse, HAHA.

i tag @paimonial-rage @mimi-cee-genshin @andromeda-nova-writing @pen-observing @dustofthedailylife (just nice. i only know 5 people on his hellsite AHDJSJDJSJKD. no pressure btw)

i can only write chronologically. by that i mean in the order the fic will be read. i've tried writing the middle or end before the beginning, but it didn’t click with me.

most of my works were written while i’m travelling. i love being alone for long train/bus rides because it’s the perfect pause to retreat to my inner world.

i started reading fanfics on wattpad in 2013. i don’t remember how i found reader inserts, but it’s wattpad. so… :P

i draw! it’s not great, but it’s something. now i just got to dip my toes into music production (e.g. lo-fi, instrumentals) and then i can take the first step to be the triple threat younger me always wanted to be for storytelling.

i started a tumblr in… early 2010s? unfortunately, i deactivated that account, which would have been an amazing time capsule. i wasn’t thinking much when i let it go.

[phoenixcatch7]

Lmaoooo okay so MAJOR story spoilers ahead-

But I just finished the crisis at hyrule castle quest line (after thorough googling that I wasn't going into the final boss, of course) and went back to the landing where everyone gathered to discuss what to do next.

It was all very solemn and thoughtful, everyone theorising and letting it sink in how incredibly dangerous ganon was, and then purah and riju are like 'omg there was a sixth sage maybe we can find whatever they've left behind maybe it can help us' and then Link IMMEDIATELY speaks up like 'oh yeah about that I've already found her. Yeah she's fine she's going to help us. I've also got the master sword too by the way'.

Everyone was SHOOK. I got praise and amazement from all sides. Purah was like 'ALREADY???!! And you didn't think to TELL ME??' it was great.

Never felt more like canon link in my life. I've got a screenshot of everyone's :O?! face. Going to be riding that high for hours XD.

But it's very impressive that I managed to procrastinate so hard I managed to skip about three major plot lines just by squirrelling my way where I'm not supposed to be purely by accident lmao.

[mrfoox]

Ok I've touched on this before but like.... Ive noticed since losing weight... Ive gotten more positive attention from men especially and im like 🙃

[robyn-goodfellowe]

also with that being said i am officially done with hints for the puzzle (everything you need is already out!) so it’s back to my regular posting with weird concerning tags that don’t actually have a deeper meaning to them!

thank you for everyone who participated and indulged in my silly little shenanigans :) im very proud of everyone who participated whether publicly or privately (u know who u are ehe) and i really hope you’ll enjoy how it all ties together and what i have planned for twtt when it eventually comes to light ❤️⏳💜

[rosicheeks]

Hope you don't mind a little more graphic. Small pretty pussy, big and soft titties and ass, and cute ass smile. A willi guess to be a great little slutty sub. Of course a thrust follow. Knowing you're a sweet and soft girl is just a nice rosie bow to tie it all together

🫣

tell me why u follow me on anon

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[kbwrites]

The Lord's Favorite CH.2

synopsis: "He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury.."

prev ← → next

��content: trueform!Sukuna x fem! reader, slightly suggestive, mentions of blood and gore

⚝wc: 1.5k

⚝a/n: I'm still shocked this got as much attention as it did! Thank you for reading, I hope this next part pleases you.

“Please, do your best to remain still,” Uraume chides gently. They press the cotton swab soaked in alcohol to your face, the stinging sensation causing you to wince as it penetrates the cuts on your cheek. Uraume offers a sympathetic glance. “I apologize for this…”

“You don’t need to-“

“Please.” They say firmly “I was aware of the tension between the servants, I... never thought they would do something to harm one of their own.” Uraume’s voice wavers slightly. They move to the wounds on your arms.

The door to the chamber swings open, and Sukuna stands in the threshold, leaning one arm nonchalantly against the doorframe. He surveys your battered form sitting on the edge of the bed—a trace of annoyance etched on his face. Uraume rises swiftly to bow before the king, but he dismisses the gesture with a casual wave.

“My lord, I’ve treated her as best as I can.” Uraume reports.

Sukuna’s gaze shifts to your face, his demeanor cold yet betraying a hint of concern.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.. my lord and I’m sorry-“

“You are not at fault.” He interrupts you, his voice firm as he strides over, his heavy footsteps echoing through the room. Clad in a black robe with a purple sash tied around the waist, his rippling muscles are visible through the cascading fabric. Uraume steps back, offering a brief bow before exiting, leaving you alone with him.

He scans your face with a piercing gaze, lowering himself to your level. His eyes drift to your empty wrist, narrowing with a mix of concern and intensity.

“Where. is it.” He demands. Your eyes widen as you realize the bracelet you were given today was missing.

“I… it must have fallen off when they attacked me” You piece together aloud. 

“So they would harm you as well as steal…” Ryomen’s voice grows taut with anger he clenches his fist, body tensing up. He rises from his kneeling position, figure looming over you.

“Are you able to stand?” He questions lowly. You nod.

“Good. We will be going now.”

You look up at your king, his expression is unreadable, but there’s an unmistakable intensity in his eyes—a silent promise of retribution. 

You lag behind him as he strides purposefully down the dimly lit  hallway. The evening light leaks through the dark red curtains of the hall, casting long shadows that dance along the walls. Each step of his echoes with a menacing authority. He stops abruptly at the entrance to the servants quarters. Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Do you wish to watch?” He inquires, voice low and steady.

“W…watch?” 

“Yes, do you wish to watch as I kill the ones who hurt you.”

“I—“ your heart races, Was this really happening? “No… my lord I do not.” You speak quietly. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond, opening the door to the room.

The servants look upon him in reverence… or fear. Ryomen Sukuna did not bother himself with his servants, so seeing him generally meant bad news. He scans the room at the trembling help who shrink under his scrutiny, ‘utterly pathetic..’ he thinks. Their eyes drift to you, standing behind him. Ryomen shoots you a sidelong glance, awaiting you to point out your offenders. 

You look up at him, conflicted. Do you really wish for them to die? He scoffs as if reading your mind.

“You would protect them, even after what they did to you?” He sneers.

 He directs his attention back to the line of servants, all bowing their heads in fear. His gaze lands on one woman, and he notices the bracelet on her wrist—identical to the one he had painstakingly crafted for you.

At the sight of the bracelet, his demeanor changes abruptly. His expression darkens with a fierce intensity. With a swift motion, two of his arms encircle you, gently but firmly covering your eyes.

“Do not open them, until the screaming stops.”

Screams of horror reverberate through the room. You hear slashes mingling with the sound of Sukuna chuckling darkly. All the while two of his arms remains protectively around you, shielding you from the brutality he’s inflicting upon the ones who dared to harm you.

The screaming fades, his breathing slows, upper left arm lowers from your eyes.

“It is done.” And as your eyes slowly open, the sight before you is gut-wrenching. Blood and carnage litter the servant’s chambers. You clasp your hand  over your mouth as you fight back a gag. 

Ryomen looks at you, a hint of annoyance for your lack of appreciation. You gaze upon his bloodied form, he was covered in it. He wipes face, turning his back on the lifeless bodies.

“Let’s go; I require a bath and new clothes.”

You sit on the edge of the porcelain tub, adding oils and dried petals. The act of bathing Lord Sukuna had become quite routine. And yet every time he entered the room your heart would skip a beat. He stood at over six feet tall, his four muscular arms and broad, chiseled chest commanding attention. The tattoos that adorned his toned body only added to his already imposing presence.

He strides confidently over to the bath, crimson eyes never leaving yours. The scent of lavender and roses wafting through the tiled room. He lowers himself into the water, groaning as the hot water enveloped his powerful frame.

You grab a sponge, wiping the dried blood from his chest. Ryomen leans his head back against the edge of the tub, sighing in relief under your touch. He’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of the water sloshing around echoes throughout the room. One eye opens slightly to observe you, your gentle hands erasing the evidence of his carnage. Massaging away his stress and tension. He speaks in a low, commanding voice.

“Join me.”

You abruptly cease your movements, looking at him in disbelief.

“You mean—“

“In the tub, yes.” You hesitate, glancing nervously between him and the water. Knowing it was not wise to disobey your king, you begin to shed your clothing, covering yourself modestly as you allow the bathwater to cloak you. You settle on the opposite side of the tub, his eyebrow quirks in mild annoyance.

“I will not harm you.” His voice almost… gentle.

You move closer to him. Albeit too slow for his taste, one arm pulls you towards his chest, settling on the small of your back. The unprecedented position of intimacy with your lord both thrilling and unsettling.

“Are you… unhappy with my actions today?”

"No… my lord." It was partly true. You were still reeling from the events that had transpired. The king to whom you had dutifully bowed had unleashed his fury... for you? The man you willingly served, had been so enraged by your injuries that he had taken the lives of those who wronged you. He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury..

“Good.” Another hand reaches to stroke your hair, a touch so feather light you wondered if he thought you’d break. “I… do not wish for you to be unhappy.” He speaks softly. His finger traces your jawline. You shiver under his touch, but don’t pull away. If your heart were to beat any faster you feared it might give out altogether.  His hand trails down to your chest, placing his palm flat against the valley between your breasts.

“Your heart is racing…Are you frightened of me?” He questioned, feeling the rhythm quicken beneath his touch.

“F…frightened?” You try to keep your voice from shaking, but it betrays you quivering with uncertainty.

“It is understandable; I could kill you right now.” He grins as his words make your heart beat even faster. “I am merely stating a fact. Do not think of it.” His gaze travels from your face to your chest, lingering at the point where the water begins.

He stands up, water dripping down his body, your gaze travels down his abs to his v-line. He only grins as he sees your curious eyes widen at his lower half. It was quite hard not to look when he was so… big. The screams from his bedroom made sense after you were called to his bath the first time. 

“You are permitted to touch.” He declares, snapping your out of your daze, a shaky hand comes up to feel his abs. He groans softly under your nimble fingers, feeling his muscles tighten in response. He was a work of art, as if the gods themselves sculpted his figure.

You knew that after his bath, Lord Sukuna would typically summon one of his concubines to his chambers. This would inevitably result in several hours of indecorous moans and pained screams, audible through the door connecting your room to his. As his servant, you wanted to adhere to your place, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder... what it would be like to bask in your lord’s presence in such an intimate way.

“My lord, shall I summon someone to… attend to your needs?” 

He only chuckles darkly, one arm reaching down to gentle cup your face. His crimson eyes feasting upon your wet, naked form committing this scene to memory.

“No need,” He murmurs, his voice deep and resonant.

 “I believe your presence is precisely what I crave.”

taglist! (I know a lot a people in the previous post asked for a part two but idk if that meant you wanted to be tagged, lmk!) @haruchi-slit @gg-trini @pastelbunnelby @cauqhtz @shadava

[sttoru]

Trueform sukuna who never kisses his concubines. EXCEPT he only kisses his favorite concubine aka reader 😞🎀

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. you’re the only one deserving of lord sukuna’s.. direct affection.

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. fluff, suggestive at most. uhh exhibitionism ? kinda but nothing crazy sexual happens, so pda. size difference. reader gets called ‘doll.’

you’re standing at the entrance of the estate, along with some other concubines. four of them. uraume is there with you as well. you’re all awaiting the one person you’re serving; ryomen sukuna.

it’s silent. the women don’t dare to speak up nor do they dare address you in a menacing manner because of uraume’s presence. you’re thankful for them. you really don’t want to have another petty fight with the concubines. not before your little trip to the village nearby.

you’re all accompanying sukuna to meet up with an infamous clan leader. it’s official business, but you’re needed as a sign of your lord’s high status. you’re basically his trophies that he likes to show off.

“interesting choice of clothing,” sukuna finally shows up. you all bow, showing respect. you look up and only then realise that he’s addressing you. his eyes wander over your figure, “who’s chosen that for you?”

you glance down at your kimono. it’s a beautiful red—suiting the color of sukuna’s eyes. your hair is put up in a neat bun, with a matching crimson hairpin that represented who you belong to.

him.

“my lady-in-waiting, my lord,” you say quietly. you cannot see it, yet can easily feel it; the jealous glares from the four women. they’re dressed in the exact same color red, yet their lord hasn’t paid them any mind. not even a glance.

sukuna just hums in response and makes a mental note of your answer. at least his human servants are good for something. he continues to shamelessly check you out.

“lord sukuna,” uraume interrupts carefully. they bow their head once the king of curses looks their way with a stoic expression, “we’ll have to leave now if we wish to make it there at dawn.”

it’s a gentle reminder, but there’s some urgency in their voice. sukuna rolls his eyes—he may have some official business, but he’s not attending that. not before taking care of other more important stuff first. “silence,” he comments to uraume, heavy steps heading your way afterwards.

your eyes meet his. you blink in confusion, eyelashes fluttering. the sight makes sukuna’s hands twitch at his sides. the way you stare up at him with such naïveté is making him want to destroy it.

you’re unsure what sukuna wants from you. as he orders, everyone stays quiet. you watch as his big hands wrap around your body—your waist engulfed by his warm palms. your eyes widen, but before you can question his actions, your lips are sealed by his.

it’s rare that he does this. kissing sukuna is a privilege. one that no one has ever gotten the honour of having, except for you.

you’ve tasted him. you’ve felt his tongue slither against yours. you’ve had his saliva mix with yours. you’ve had him grunting in your mouth.

you’ve had it all.

no one says a thing. even as your feet are lifted from the ground by the sheer strength of sukuna’s grip on your small body. to reach his lips properly, he has to pick you up and hold you against his chest. it’s his favorite thing to do.

“pretty thing,” sukuna coos with a grin. you can feel his lips curling up menacingly against your mouth. it makes you whine. you instantly shut up once you realise that you’re still outside and surrounded by others—who are basically waiting on you two to be done.

you’re embarrassed to the point that you want nothing more than to hide your face against sukuna’s chest. but he will not let you until he’s had his fill. your tongues swirl around each other passionately, followed by him sucking on your bottom lip and biting it with his sharp fangs.

“my lord,” you whine quietly. you know this’ll end up like that one time in the garden. where he shamelessly took you in front of his servants. you’re unsure if it’s a smart thing to do right now. sukuna has an appointment to go to after all.

his mouth doesn’t stop interlocking with yours. his thick fingers tug at the hairs on the back of your neck, causing you to part your lips in surprise. the king of curses takes his chance and explores your warm little mouth. the one that he’s claimed as his the moment you became his concubine.

you tug at his sleeve as a reminder. sukuna grumbles in annoyance, but he knows you’re right; he should let go. his bottom set of eyes dart over to uraume for a second and upon seeing their expressionless yet determined face, he sighs.

all that official business can suck his dick.

sukuna finally detaches his lips from your now wet and swollen ones. you’re breathing hard, trying to catch your breath. you’re flustered to the point you actually bury your face into sukuna’s chiseled chest. you’re sure this’ll be the only talk around the estate for the upcoming week. you’ll become the victim of some more. . . bullying.

the king of curses notices that you don’t let go of him at all. he grins at the sight of you so desperately clinging onto him. he tries to undo the little mess he made of your once neat hair in the meantime.

“what? want me to carry you all the way there, doll?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, teasing you as per usual. you don’t let go of him since you’re still cooling off. you’ve never really kissed outside of the bedroom. it always happens behind closed doors, so this one time took you by surprise.

you shake your head and plop down on your feet again. “no, my apologies, my lord,” you straighten the material of your kimono and don’t even dare to look at the others. uraume would understand, since they’re used to their lord’s antics, but the concubines will cause big trouble once you’re back home.

sukuna nods in acknowledgment. he still got that evil smirk on his face. his thumb brushes the smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth, cleaning up his mess once again. he’s nice enough to do so today.

“heh.” sukuna lets out an amused chuckle before walking away and ahead of you—the others silently following, as do you. you’re right behind him, on his right side, as he turns his head to yours, “just so y’know, i’m not done with you.”

you know sukuna isn’t. you can easily tell by the way that he didn’t even bother to wipe the lipstick from his own lips. he’s wearing that stain like it’s a medal of sorts. evidence that you’re the only one he’s ever going to show such affection to.

either way; you’re in for one hell of a ride once you’re back from your little business trip.

[farfromstrange]

GOOD FUCKING EVENING TO ME!

When I got the notification that you posted I was in the middle of PE. I just got home, opened Tumblr and saw this and I had to read it. And dude, let me tell you, the ten minutes it took me to read were worth the fucking while!

I have so many thoughts. I am sweating, I am shivering and none of those are because I just worked out for two hours. My legs feel like literal jelly. What the fuck?! I knew you got that request because we talked about it, but holy shit? Dude, I- what you did with it- I- I’m- me- *distressed horny noises*

Two words. Matt Murdock. On my brain.

Okay, I opened a notes page simply to quote some of my favorite passages while reading and let me tell you, dude, I’m still not over what my eyes just picked up. You have blessed me.

It was utterly unfair, you decided, how Matt could still look so gorgeous even when he was tired and stressed out. You didn't look half this hot when you were stressed.

THIS. This is what I’m talking about. And it’s so fucking true. I look like a train wreck and that man always looks like he’s been cut from marble or some shit. It’s unfair but oh so fucking hot.

You blinked, surprised by your own thoughts. Jesus, where did that come from?

THIS REMINDS ME OF OUR CONVERSATIONS ABOUT HIM! But I mean, we all think that when we have dirty thoughts about him. At least I do. “Wait, where did that thought just pop out of?” it’s like we’re possessed by horny demons, which is exactly why this reminded me of our conversation.

His next thrust ground the head of his cock up into something earth-shattering inside of you, and your body jolted underneath him as though you had been struck by lightning.

Hello descriptive writing. Holy fucking shit. This passage was too good not to quote it back to you. Bestie, I- what did you put in this fic, crack or something? Because this feels like a fucking amazing trip to wonderland and your writing is just *chef’s kiss*

And then you topped it off with some giddy, fluffy humor and I love you so much for that.

Matt snorted. "Sweetheart, I'll fuck you anyway you want as long as you don't do that."

First you surprise me with this fic, then you make me wet with this fic (that sounds so wrong), and then you make me laugh with this fic. And now I’m blushing, giggling, kicking my fucking feet.

You can’t keep doing this to me. My caffeinated heart can’t take this. I’m going crazy here, and I’m still caught up on that altar fic. I still haven’t recovered and you just keep giving me that Murdick. I mean, I love you for it, but damn, I need to breathe. I need two to five business days to recover now.

Amen. Hallelujah. I need Jesus now.

hi I wanna request where matt is about stressed out from work and his night activities and the reader (she/she pronouns) tries to help him out by riding him but she can't since he's so big, so matt says stuff like "what? can't even ride a cock? you dumb slut need me to fuck you?". and he just absolutely ruins her, hope you have a good day, thanks:)

Destressed┃Matt Murdock

Summary: Matt is stressed out about work, so naturally you do the one thing that helps him unwind. You ride him until he fucks you himself.

Warnings: smut: oral sex (male receiving), rough p in v sex, dom!Matt, degradation, bit of a taste kink, choking, dirty talk, and all the good stuff

Words: 3,068

AN: After like a month of not posting, I present this utter whore of a fic to all you thirsty bitches (it's me, I'm those thirsty bitches). Thanks for the request, anon, and I just want to let you know that I spat out my water when I got it.

You found him on the sofa with a pile of braille papers scattered around him and his computer on his lap. He had a frown edged on his face, the absence of his shaded glasses exposing the tightness around his eyes. Wound up with stress, his shoulders were squared as he slumped over several stacks of paperwork along with more on his laptop.

"Hey," you called out to him, gently shutting his apartment door behind you, dropping your bag by the door and making your way over to him.

"Hey, sweetheart," Matt murmured, looking distracted as he lifted his head from his work. "What are you doing here so early? I thought you weren't coming by until later."

"I brought you dinner," you explained, setting the takeout bag on his counter before padding over to him.

"I could smell that," he said, picking up a few stacks of paper and setting them on the side table to make room for you on the couch next to him. "But I thought you didn't get off work until later tonight."

You shrugged, settling down on the couch besides him and reaching over to kiss him. An eager groan rippled from his throat into your mouth at your touch as you lightly ran your hands through his soft, dark locks. "Got off early," you said when you pulled away to examine Matt in more detail, frowning at the terseness of his form. "You looked stressed."

He huffed out a humorless laugh. "I am," he agreed. "We had three more clients come in today. That's only adding to the pile we already had."

"Can I help?" you asked sympathetically.

Matt shook his head. "It's okay, we'll get through them. We always do."

You sighed, leaning over to kiss him again. "I don't like it when you're stressed," you admitted. "It's not good for you."

He shrugged, and you had to admit telling the man who beat people up every night that stress was not good for him sounded kinda stupid. "I'll be fine," he said, looking very much not fine. The dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't been sleeping much. His shoulders were tight as though his workload were a physical weight on them. He hadn't shaved in a few days, so you could run your fingers along his jaw and feel the scrape of his stubble against your hand.

It was utterly unfair, you decided, how Matt could still look so gorgeous even when he was tired and stressed out. You didn't look half this hot when you were stressed. But this scruffy, slightly rumpled look on Matt had you so weak in the knees, you were lucky that you were sitting. He was still in his white dress shirt from work, the top few buttons of it undone and his tie loosened around his neck. He looked so entirely fuckable.

You blinked, surprised by your own thoughts. Jesus, where did that come from? Well, it wasn't your fault, not when Matt was sitting there looking like that.

As if sensing where your thoughts had turned, Matt tilted his head towards you, a little smirk lifting the corners of his lips up. He reached over, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you towards him. "What's gotten into that pretty little head of yours, hmm?" he asked, grinning at your hands tugging at his tie.

"I think I know a way I can help you destress," you said sweetly, dragging your nails down his hard abs, half drooling at the way his dress shirt stretched across the muscular expanse of his chest.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his large hands sliding up your shirt to glide along your skin slowly. There was a hungry gleam in his dark eyes as he licked his lips slowly. "What's that?"

You smiled coyly, reaching over to pluck his laptop from his hands and place it on the side table before climbing onto his lap. "Oh," you giggled, dragging the word out even as your hands swiftly unbuckled his pants. "I don't know."

Matt groaned when you unzipped his dress pants and slid your hand down to palm at his hardening length. "Careful, sweetheart," he warned, his grip tightening on your waist. "You might just get what you want."

Worming out of his grasp, you sank down to your knees in front of him, biting back another laugh. Keeping your eyes fixed on Matt's blank ones that were focused somewhere around your lips, you carefully tugged his pants and his boxers down to his thighs, wrapping your hand around his thick cock. "Maybe I want that," you replied sweetly.

Before Matt could reply, you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, and his hips jerked up eagerly, a whispered curse falling from his lips. You swirled your tongue over the head of his cock and the precum dripping from the tip, licking the taste of him up into your mouth. In no mood for your teasing tonight, Matt groaned harshly, his hand knotting in your hair to push your head down towards his cock.

You obeyed, giving him what he wanted and taking as much of his throbbing length into your mouth as you could manage. The throaty moan that Matt let out at the wet, hot embrace of your mouth went straight to your dripping cunt, making you squeeze your thighs together tightly.

The slick noise of your mouth sliding up and down his cock echoed through Matt's living room like a filthy melody in his ears. He panted, rolling his hips up eagerly against you as you took him deeper until he was nearly down your throat. You kept up the pace, dragging your mouth along his cock and swirling your tongue around the head, sending thick molten lines of pleasure arcing down his spine. Rough groans and stuttering pants fell from Matt's mouth when you sped up the slick motions of your mouth along his deliciously thick cock.

"Ah! F-fuck," he stammered, his hand tightening in your hair, the hot pulses of pleasure up and down his cock coming dangerously close to his climax. "Fuck," he hissed again, tugging your head back off his cock. "Get up here, sweetheart."

You hurried to obey, climbing up onto his lap and straddling him. Left in only your panties, you slowly ground your cunt against his cock, dragging the soaked fabric against the burning line of him. Matt moaned with you, his large hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts, flicking his fingers over your hardened nipples. You whimpered quietly, your rhythm stuttering for the slightest moment.

Matt tugged at your panties. "Get these off," he growled.

You hasten to obey, peeling your wet panties off your legs and tossing them aside, uncaring of where they ended up. When you straddled Matt again, your dripping cunt hovering just inches over his thick cock, he stopped from sinking down onto him and dragged his fingers along your slit in a slow, aching line that had you whimpering and bucking your hips into his hand at the way his fingertips just barely grazed your clit. But after just one stroke up your cunt, Matt pulled his fingers away despite your desperate whine and brought them up to his lips.

And oh, you nearly collapsed as you watched him drag his tongue along the glistening slick from you on his fingers, watched the way his eyes rolled back into his head at the taste of you, watched his face morphing into one of utter bliss, the filthiest moan falling from his lips as he sucked your wetness off his fingers.

"Oh my God," you whimpered, trembling at the sight in front of you.

"Sweetheart," Matt rumbled when he removed his fingers from his mouth. "You taste so good."

"Fuck," you panted. "Shit—y-you have no idea how fucking hot that was."

A sinful smirk curved along his lips as his hand found its way back to your waist. "Yeah?" he murmured, brushing his thumb along the inside of your thigh, the minimal contact driving you insane. "Why don't you show me then, hmm? Ride my cock for me, pretty girl."

You didn't think you had ever obeyed an order faster in your life. Hurriedly, you were grasping his thick, heavy cock in your hand, lining him up against your entrance, and slowly sinking down onto him. A ragged moan was all either of you could manage with the slick, deliciously hot pleasure pushing into you and engulfing him.

An embarrassingly loud moan slipped from your mouth at the way Matt filled you up so perfectly when you sank all the way down on him. He was panting too, nothing but blazing fire and heat burning in his eyes as you took every single inch of his cock. The stretch of him felt so deliciously good, finally satiating the ache in your core.

"Matty," you gasped, unable to move for a moment as you tried to accustom yourself to his massive girth. "I—ah!—fuck, you're so big—"

"Thought I told you to ride my cock, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice dark and low when you didn't move for another few seconds. He leaned forward to brush his lips against your ear, hot breath drifting over the side of your neck. "Don't you want to be a good girl for me?"

"Y-yes," you whined. "God yes, please Matty."

His hand slithered up and grasped your chin in his large hand as Matt smiled, slow and dangerous as a predator. "Then ride my fucking cock," he ordered.

With a low whimper vibrating along your throat, you forced yourself to move even though your legs felt like jelly. Lifting yourself off his throbbing length as far as you could, you sank back down quickly onto him, moaning eagerly as you tried to ride him faster and harder.

But fuck, he was so big, and each time you ground back down on his cock, he stretched you open until you felt impossibly wide, nearly split open in the best way possible at how fucking thick he was inside of you. Your hips stuttered with your shaky rhythm as shuddering moans racked your body.

Matt's grip on your waist was almost painfully tight as you fucked yourself on his cock, his plush lips falling open slightly with each rock of your hips. He groaned out stammered praises of your name, the syllables rolling off his tongue like a sweet melody.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he panted. "That's it, you're doing so well for me. Riding my cock so well, baby."

"M-Matty," you whimpered when you rolled your hips down onto him again, and the tip of his cock grazed against something overwhelming inside of you. A broken moan spilled from your lips as your pace faltered on shaking legs, trying to accommodate his thick, aching length. "I-I need you to—to fuck me, please."

He let out a rough laugh at that, gripping your chin and yanking your head down to look at him, eyes dark and burning with liquid heat as Matt bared his teeth into a feral smirk. "What? Can't even ride my cock? You dumb slut, need me to fuck you?" he snarled.

His harsh words startled you for a moment, but what was even more startling was the way your body responded to him. A shameless moan tumbled from your lips without your permission as you clenched around him, shuddering as another gush of your wetness coated his cock.

Matt laughed again, letting go of your chin to slid his hand down to your throat, loosely wrapping his hand around your neck. "You liked that, didn't you, hmm? You like it when I talk to you like that, pretty girl? I can feel how wet you get when I call you my dumb little whore."

Another shaky whimper from your throat vibrated against Matt's palm holding your neck. You gripped his broad shoulders as you trembled on top of him. "Please," you choked out, grinding down on his cock even though Matt was fully engulfed in you. "I need it, Matt, please."

"What do you need, sweetheart? Use your words for me, and I'll give you what you want."

"I need you to fuck me," you nearly sobbed, aching and desperate for him. "God, I need it so bad, Matt—please, please, please—just fuck me—I need your cock, I need you to—"

You didn't even finish your sentence before Matt was surging upwards, flipping you around so suddenly that the world spun around you until your back hit the seat of the sofa beneath you. Matt was on top of you, kneeling between your legs where he was still completely sheathed inside of you with your legs locked around his waist. There was a single moment where he brushed his thumb against your cheek tenderly, and that was it.

He dragged his hips back slowly, and you almost cried at the feeling of him leaving you—and then he was slamming back inside of you, and the next thing you knew, Matt was fucking you into the sofa with brutal, powerful strokes reaching so deep inside of you that you could have sworn stars exploded in the corners of your vision. You would have screamed if you had the breath, but the way his cock was pounding into you absolutely punched the air out of your lungs. The most you could manage was a strangled shout before you were gasping and clawing at the worn leather underneath your fingers, trying to find something to hold onto while Matt utterly wrecked you.

And then Matt was pulled you even closer to him, never mind the fact that you were already trapped between his strong arms, and the slight change in position was enough for his cock to drive into you at a whole new angle. His next thrust ground the head of his cock up into something earth-shattering inside of you, and your body jolted underneath him as though you had been struck by lightning. A hoarse moan, bordering on a scream, tore from your throat, followed by stammered gasps of Matt's name, falling over and over again from your lips.

Your smaller hands grasped at his forearm of the hand that was wrapped around your throat, blunt nails digging into the hard muscle of his arm as your eyes squeezed shut. Each one of his hard, fast thrusts was driving up you further and further towards your peak like a wave receding before it crashed.

Groaning in sweet delight with each slam of his hips, Matt stuttered out our name between his primal grunts as he fucked into you. "Sweetheart," he slurred, sounding as drunk on this pleasure as you were. "Fuck, honey, you feel so good—so fucking good."

"Matt," you gasped out, unable and unwilling to move from underneath him where he had pinned you down with the sharp, driving rhythm of his hips. He seemed to have realized that he had found your g-spot, and now he was just pounding mercilessly into you there, the pleasure of it so sharp and overwhelming it completely stole your breath away. Fire was coursing like liquid lava through your veins, going straight to your brain and making your head spin. Choked, ragged moans were all you could squeeze out from your throat, constricted from both Matt's hand around it and this utterly devastating pleasure ripping through you.

"So tight for me, sweetheart," Matt grunted. "Fuck—I can feel you squeezing me like that—ah!"

A strangled sob echoed through the room as you dug your heels into Matt's hips, encouraging him further. His pace picked up until he was fucking you so hard, the sofa was slowly sliding across the floor in small, stuttered skids.

"Such a good girl," he praised. "Taking my cock so well, baby."

You cried his name out again as he drove his cock up again, slamming straight into that spot with brutal accuracy, and then you were shouting—screaming—hoarsely as orgasm suddenly surged up over you, burning hot and furious as it scorched its way through every single nerve in your body. Your hands clawed uselessly at his forearm as you sobbed and twitched around him, clenching hard around his cock still pounding into you even as your vision went completely white for a few moments. That bone-deep pleasure was blazing deep inside of you, searing and branding itself on your fucking soul.

"Oh my fucking God, Matt!"

Matt's pace grew rough and frantic as your cunt continued fluttering around him even while the tendrils of orgasm were slowly receding from your limp form. He was panting and groaning your name, but the sound of it was muffled by the blood rushing in your ears. He drove into you once—twice—three more times, and then he was moaning brokenly against your throat where he'd pressed his face against your neck. You hadn't even noticed when he had he removed his hand from there, too caught up in your own bliss.

He buried himself inside of you to the hilt, and his body shook on top of yours as he finally let go, weeks of stress melting off his shoulders as he emptied himself in you, hot spurts of his release filling you up until he had nothing left to give you.

With a satisfied groan, Matt dropped his head into the curve of your neck with a low, almost reverent whisper of "sweetheart." Even though your arms, along with the rest of your body, were practically putty, you reached up to gently run your fingers through Matt's damp hair.

"Mmm," you hummed lazily. "I might have to thank whichever client got you so stressed because if that's what it takes to get you to fuck me like that...I'm sorry, babe, but I am going to refer Nelson and Murdock to everyone I know."

Matt snorted. "Sweetheart, I'll fuck you anyway you want as long as you don't do that."

"Oh well, in that case..."

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your neck. Matt lifted his head up and kissed you warmly, his pretty dark eyes focused on you. "Thank you for that, sweetheart."

"Oh absolutely. I'm always here if you want to just, you know, ruin me again. Totally down for it anytime."

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AN: Apologies for the very inconsistent posting schedule, I've just been writing whenever I can between work and life and classes and shit, so thanks for bearing with me, yall &lt;3

If you enjoyed, please remember to like, comment, and reblog! 🖤

Matt Murdock Masterlist

[lovedandtouched]

kento is such a girl dad.

he’d definitely let her daughter put pretty pink bows on him, paint his nails & put some make up on his face, oh! and don’t forget the stickers too!

leaning at the doorframe, you watch them have fun. kento’s smile was so genuine, so eager to make her daughter happy by doing things he wasn’t fond of doing.

“papa! papa look pretty!”

“do i now?”

“yes! papa a princess!”

“thank you, sweetheart.”

kento notices your presence and smiled at you, eyes so soft.

you were definitely melting.

“papa, i am doctor!” your daughter says, making kento’s attention snap back into her.

“oh, you’re a doctor now? i thought you were a pretty little princess?” kento questions, raising a brow as plays along.

“yes! i’m princess and doctor, i check you!”

while she’s doing her check up, she can’t help but to notice some old scars and some scratches that looks very fresh.

“papa hurt?” your worried daughter raises kento’s hand.

“it’s just a scratch, honey, it’ll go away.”

“no! papa hurt! papa wait!”

she scurries over to her nearby table and started to look for something leaving kento confused.

she then comes back with a couple of hello kitty bandaids.

“papa hand...”

your daughter started patching up kento’s scratches and then gave it a kiss. he could die right now.

“there, papa no hurt!” she proudly smiles.

“thank you, princess.” giving her a kiss on the forehead.

oh, how we wish that these moments would never end...