#since he's not in his tent until afterward

[wildsaltair]

so as I'm sure y'all remember, I went insane when I found the montage of unreleased footage from the Gladiator DVD. I'm planning to do a full breakdown of all the new footage I discovered in there, but I just couldn't wait to share these because they are SO INTERESTING to me. it's like a four second clip of Maximus in his tent in Germania, featuring him doing something where he's shuffling some nutshells around

is he not just the cutest thing <3

but like??? I am so curious about what he's doing!!! it's probably a strategy technique, like him using the nutshells to represent different sections of his army and planning their attack. if not, maybe it's some kind of Roman version of solitaire?? I mean he's been on the road for years at this point, and how adorable would it be if this is his little nighttime unraveling technique, like a crossword puzzle or smth??

idk I just was awestruck by this little moment and wanted to share :)

[peppermintquartz]

NOW ON AO3

--

Eddie and Buck come through the door of Buck's loft together in a fit of giggles, still high over Chimney's expression being spat on by an alpaca, when they see Tommy sitting alone on the floor, pressed to a corner where he is staring out the window.

"Tommy?" Buck says, delighted and about to head over, when Eddie slaps a hand to Buck's chest. "What?"

Eddie's eyes narrow. There's nothing overtly odd, but there was something strange yet familiar about Tommy's expression and position.

"Buck, go make coffee."

"Eddie it's 9pm," Buck protests.

"Make. Coffee. And don't come over until I call you," Eddie doesn't mean to put on his Dad voice, but it works on Buck, and as Buck heads to the kitchen, Eddie goes to Tommy.

Thousand yard stare. Left hand clenched over the right wrist. Jaw set.

There is a knife in his right hand.

"Kinard, you okay there?" Eddie asks softly.

Tommy's gaze flickers and he looks at Eddie, a small frown creasing his brow. "I don't know."

"You know where you are?"

"Evan's place." He frowns more deeply. "I heard screams. Explosions."

Eddie sits down. He can hear the coffee machine going and Buck is probably hovering, waiting for Eddie's signal.

"When did you hear the sounds?"

"I don't know. I was... I was in my car, heading home. And then next thing I know I was... I heard screaming, and I drove here, and all I could think of was Evan. I had to get to Evan." Tommy blinks rapidly and his breathing picks up. "Where is-"

"Buck, come here," Eddie calls out.

Buck practically dashes over and kneels down next to his boyfriend. "Tommy."

"Evan," Tommy breathes out, and as if a string is cut, his rigid posture goes slack. "You're safe. You're safe."

Eddie exhales too. "Tommy, drop the knife."

"Knife?" Tommy looks at his hands and instantly relaxes his grip. The knife falls the short distance with a thud. Eddie reaches over and picks it up. A folding utility knife. Something Tommy would have in his car. "I didn't... Did I hurt anyone?"

"No," Eddie says with a tiny smile, patting his friend on the knee.

Beside him, Buck is swallowing down his thousand and one questions. He touches Tommy's arm tentatively, and is reassured when Tommy pulls him into a one-armed hug.

It could have gone badly, if Buck had run up to Tommy suddenly and unwarily. A knife wound to the gut would be a bad, bad thing, and Tommy would never forgive himself.

Some dark days, Eddie was thankful he had somehow had the presence of mind to lock the door before he fired the shots. If anything had happened to Christopher... He shakes himself out of the sheer horror of the thought.

"I thought... I heard screams," Tommy's telling Buck, "and I knew, I knew we were under attack, we had to find cover, but I needed to find you. I needed to make sure you were safe."

Buck kisses him on the forehead, then on the mouth, twice. "I am safe. We all are."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Either of you."

Eddie stands. "I think we all need some coffee."

-

Eddie and Tommy are sitting at the table, picking at what's left of the nacho chips, while Buck has been persuaded to go take a shower.

"You seeing someone about that?" Eddie asks.

"Used to." Tommy smiles grimly. "It was... It was really bad at first, when I just came back, but it's been... Shit, it's been a year and half? two years? since the last one."

"Auditory hallucinations."

"Explosions and screaming. There were... It was an accident, they told us afterwards. Bad intel. Civilians weren't supposed to be hurt." Tommy snorts. "Bullshit liars, all of them."

"That why you left?"

"Once the tour was done, I was too. I like flying. I don't like killing." Tommy's face is ashen. He looks a decade older with exhaustion. "I like what I've built since."

"I can tell." Eddie sighs and grabs Tommy's wrist, squeezes it once to get his attention. "And before you beat yourself up about the knife, I'm gonna tell you that you had a firm grip on your knife hand." He leans in, catches Tommy's guilt-ridden gaze. "You would not have hurt him. Part of you was keeping yourself in check." He squeezes again when Tommy tries to avert his eyes. "Tommy. You wouldn't have hurt him."

"I might in the future."

"We'll tell him how to manage this, okay? Because... Because he's had to deal with me too. He gets it. He really does."

Closing his eyes, Tommy inhales, holds his breath, and exhales. "Okay."

From the bathroom, Buck calls out, "So you guys done with the heart to heart yet or do I have to stay in here any longer?"

Eddie laughs, and is relieved to see Tommy's face crinkle up in that same warm, familiar grin. We're all gonna be fine.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I’ve been in a feral mood to request grinding on Eddie in his van. Front seat until you’re straight up fucking like the first time you’re on top. And he is guiding you as you lose yourself in euphoria.

The. After he writes this on the window… because it’s Eddie

You’re so right! This is so Eddie coded!

Eddie x fem!reader

Cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

If there was one thing about you and Eddie it was that more than likely that you were fucking if you were in his van. It was the perfect spot since it was more that likely that Wayne was at the trailer and it was just so easy to slip into the back to have a quickie in some abandoned parking lot since you two couldn’t seem to keep your hands off of each other.

Once again, Eddie had parked the van in what looked like the abandoned parking lot you frequented and before you could even register what was happening, he was leaning over the center console, pressing his lips to yours, not holding back his moans when your tongue entered his mouth.

You were desperate for him already, not even wanting to get warmed up with a make out. You needed him and you needed him right then. You pulled away, letting the both of you catch your breath.

“Can I get on top of you?” You asked, unsure why you were nervous he would say no. He seemed pretty eager to fuck you right then and there.

“I’d be kind of offended if you didn’t, honey.” At that, you tried to gracefully climb over the center console, trying your best not to get hurt.

You settled yourself onto Eddie’s lap and his hands moved to your hips as you began grinding against him. Your hands rested on his chest as you kissed him, this one slow and gentle, as if you two had all the time in the world, and right there, in that abandoned parking lot, you did.

Your tongues tangled as you continued to grind into him, your underwear getting soaked as you felt his dick forming a tent in his pants.

Eddie’s hands moved underneath your leggings as you reached down on the side of the seat in search of the lever that leaned it back. You found it with ease and leaned the chair back as far as it would go as you let Eddie take what he wanted from you, you pliant to his every move.

You both struggled to pull down both your pants and underwear, laughing because of how small the space was. Maybe there was a reason why you always fucked in the back. He got both down to your ankles and you moved so he could take off his sweatpants, the waistband hitting the tops of his sneakers.

You both removed your hoodies and they were abandoned in the front seat before you reached over and grabbed a condom from the glove compartment before opening the packet and sliding it onto his cock. Afterwards, you settled yourself down on it, both of you moaning at the feeling. You rolled your hips into him as you rode him, hard and fast, the only way either of you liked it.

You had never been on top before in the many times you had slept together, but you had to admit that you liked it, loving to see him come undone underneath you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he said in between breaths. “Love to feel your weight on top of me.”

“Well, I love the way you look underneath me. You look so pretty, baby.” You continued to ride him, your hands pressing into his shoulders. He grabbed onto your hips, his own bucking against yours.

The only sounds that could be were your moans mixing with your labored breaths that were fogging up the windows. You continued to grind into Eddie as his hands scratched up and down your back, his moans almost sounding like screams.

“Fuck, so good, honey,” he whimpered as you rode him the hardest and the fastest that you could, feeling absolute euphoria at the feeling and his praise. “Doing so well at your first time on top.”

“Only because I’ve learned from the best,” you winked and Eddie felt himself getting even more hard thinking about the fact that you had been taking notes from him.

He left more scratches down your back as you gave him one last grind, the two of you giving it your all. You both let out a few more moans and you moved just enough so Eddie could pull out before placing yourself back on his lap.

After you both cleaned up, you leaned against his chest. His hands rubbed up and down your back gently as you both laid there, trying to catch your breaths. You felt one of Eddie’s hands leave your back and you whined at the absence of his touch.

“Hold on, honey.” You could see his arm moving and turned your head to see what he was doing. He was writing something on the window that you had fogged up and you tried to figure out what it was.

“We,” you read the first word out loud as he wrote it. “Just.” He finished the second word and you rolled your eyes as you realized what he was writing.

“Eddie,” you scolded, shoving his shoulder.

“What?” He laughed. “It’s true.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to advertise it.” You shook your head at him. Sometimes he could be so immature.

“But I have to advertise that I’m fucking the hottest babe in town,” he scoffed as if that was a good enough explanation.

“I’m the hottest babe?” You asked, now not so upset with what he had written on the window now that he had complimented you.

“Of course you are,” he rolled his eyes. “And the prettiest and the smartest. I could go on.”

“Please do.”

“How about I show you instead?” He pulled you in for another kiss, warming you up for round two, the writing on the window being completely forgotten.

[reidology13]

I tell someone I love them (just as a distraction)

Spencer Reid x fem famous!reader

Summary: In the depths of his addiction, Spencer finds someone who needs an escape as much as he does. cw: talk of addiction, allusions to sex (no actual smut), angst no happy ending

Part 2 here!

Meaningless whispers of ‘I love you’ mumbled between laboured breaths and cold kisses in an apartment that doesn’t feel like mine. The sheen of sweat that coats his body is nearly constant these days, it has nothing to do with physical exertion. The glaze over his hollow eyes is the furthest possible thing from pleasure, although by now he might have his wires crossed. His face is beautiful, and I can see myself marrying it in another life, one where my chest isn’t as hollow as his cheeks. A life where I don’t have to ignore the fresh scars in the crook of his elbow as I pull his shirt off.

I am not in that world, and neither is he, a reality that I cannot grieve because this is what I asked for, what I have been working for since before I can remember. The parties that leave me empty and sick, the performances that start the moment I leave the stage, the new friends who tag along for my name. I love him because he doesn’t care about any of it, if only because he’s too high to care about much at all.

I don’t feel anything when I finish, I’m not sure he does, either. I watch as he disappears from my side, already scrambling to his bag, searching through it until he finds what he needs. He slips into the bathroom, finally taking his chance to feel something after the numbness of the night. He has his escape, he used to be mine. I wonder if one day the chemicals he defiles his veins with will stop calming his ever racing mind, or if I just need a higher dose.

When he comes back, I pull him close to me, dragging him back down into the bedsheets and sweat. It works this time, my skin alight with every electrifying touch as his fingers dance gracefully across my body. His hands shake as they move, a feeling that makes my nerves sing as a lump forms in my throat and my heart sinks to my stomach. He looks up at me with those brown eyes that would be so gorgeous if they held any emotion, anything but that violent hunger for a craving he should have satisfied moments earlier. He can’t up his dose as easily as I can, can’t pull his vice back to bed without the risk of never waking up. He doesn’t bother saying that he loves me this time, we both know it’s not true. Or maybe it is, but there are things he loves much more, and telling me he loves me debases one of the only pure things left in the world. I’m glad he doesn’t try this time.

He holds me afterwards, his trembling body not yet ready to stand up, or maybe he knows that the moment he does he’ll be back inside the bathroom. I turn my head away, and as he buries his face in my shoulder, I pretend I don’t feel the apology he mouths against my glass skin. He runs a hand down my upper arm, his touch tentative and light, scared that I’ll shatter into a million pieces. My heart does. If he knows about the tear that runs down my face, he ignores it, and I’m not surprised. Ignorance is what we’re good at, after all.

When I wake up, he’s gone, slipped into the early morning, or called into the job that he shouldn’t be doing in his condition. I crawl out of my cold, damp sheets, the disgusting aftermath of our night. The sick feeling that perpetually sits in my gut, loosening under him, twisting tighter under the sun of the next day. 

Slowly, I peel back the layers of sticky fabric, watching how they cling to my skin and each other as I force them into the washing machine. I turn it on.

Fresh sheets are laid out on my bed, sheets that haven’t yet witnessed the tornado of us, still clean and untainted by tears and sweat and words that never mean anything. I lay the sheet over the mattress, fighting to wrap it around all four corners as it perpetually escapes one, always sitting just slightly wrong. I place the pillows down carefully, fighting the urge to punch them like I’ve been wanting to punch his face every time he shows up at my door.

I can see myself marrying him in this world, too, getting him the help he needs and staying with him through it all. He would be able to be there for me when I need it, not an escape from, but support through the other parts of my life, a person to love and talk to about the hard things. But I know that is still impossible. One day, he will sober up and disappear, or I will be an uninvited guest at his funeral. There’s no option that ends well for both of us, the best we can do is take it as it happens and ignore everything.

I watch as the last blanket floats down over the bed, carelessly adjusting its corners. It looks exactly the same.

[saturnsorbits]

Always a Groomsman

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warning: Angst (A Touch), Smut, Exhibitionism, Reader Smokes, Kaminari isn't a Hero Anymore, Brief Mention of Addiction etc. Word Counts: 5.4k.

Summary: A wedding, what a wonderful place to reunite with the one that fucked you and ran all those years ago.

The light is already dying by the time you finally manage to slip away from the reception and make a B-line to the back of the tent. Your feet are killing. The whiskey helps the pain, but even whiskey can't numb everything.

'Oi.' Bakugo catches your elbow, stopping you just short of freedom.

'Where are you going?'

'Need some air.'

Flicking up his eyebrows, he offers you a smirk that tells you he's not buying your bullshit. 'So it's got nothing to do with that then?' He hooks a thumb towards the dance floor and the drunken silhouette of Kaminari Denki He's curled himself around a bridesmaid, hand pinching the silk over her hip, lips hovering barely an inch above her neck as she threads her hand through his hair.

You chew your lip and lie. 'No.'

'C'mon... Just talk to him, you know you want to.' Bakugo's eyes widen suggestively.

'I think he's too pre-occupied to talk.' Something bubbles in your stomach as you watch Kaminari whisper in the woman's ear and you quietly shift your gaze so you don't see what happens next.

'You know he's only over there because he thinks you're mad at him, right?'

'I am mad at him.'

'It's been years.'

'He fucked me over, Kat...'

Bakugo's gaze hits the floor. It's not like he's forgotten what happened. 'I'm not taking his side but -.'

'No.' You raise your hands, palms flat in the air to stop him. You know what he's about to say. You've heard it all before. 'You've got guests to entertain and I am literally going to explode if I don't get some air in the next minute.'

Rolling his eyes, he plants a kiss on your cheek and uses his new proximity to whisper in your ear. 'He'd make a pretty groom, that's all I'm saying.'

'Oh, fuck off.' You manage to swat his shoulder only once before he's turned on his heel and returned to the mess of wedding guests that whoop and roar when he re-emerges into the fray.

The cold hits you as soon as you duck under the edge of the tent and step out onto the small deck. Instantly, you pull at your shoes and hiss as your feet are forced to straighten against the wooden floor. Before the throbbing in your soles has settled, you stagger off, limping towards the tall rail separating the deck from the field beyond.

It's a nice night, cold, but nice. In the sky, stars burn on a back-drop of navy, their blanket only broken by the soft, red blinking of the odd satellite or plane. The music from the tent floats out and lingers in the air, leaving you with enough space to actually think for a second.

You'd been overjoyed to watch Bakugo finally get hitched to Kirishima, but almost all of that excitement had died when you saw Kaminari. It had been almost ten years since the night he'd kissed you outside of UA, since you'd stumbled up the stairs to his dorm and let him be the first to touch you. He'd pretended as if it had never happened afterwards and you'd taken the hint.

A few months later, you'd moved south and he had stayed. He hadn't even shown up to your leaving party, despite both Sero and Kirishima telling you he'd be there.

But, all of that was in the past, or at least you'd thought it was until your eyes had grazed his as he stood beside the alter as Kirishima's best man and you'd felt a forgotten affection swell in your stomach. Sighing, you fiddle with your clutch bag and remove a half-full packet of cigarettes from within. You flip open the box, pluck one from inside and pop it in-between your lips before diving back into the clutch to search for a lighter. Rummaging for a second, you come up empty.

'Shit.'

'Need a light?'

The voice makes you shriek. You jump, stumble over your shoes and just about manage to catch yourself on the rail. Hand falling to your chest, you can feel the hammering of your heart through your skin.

'Am I that scary?' He snickers.

You squint, trying to make out his edges in the low light. Your eyebrows furrow, then lift as you focus on the man in front of you. He looks good, better than the last time you'd seen him: A scrawny shadow of himself pictured in a double page spread of a gossip magazine, something about heroism, drugs and a sex scandal printed in bright ink above it.

Flicking your eyes up to his, you're glad to see the spark has returned to his eyes. An old, but familiar shiver runs the length of your spine and suddenly, your stomach fills with motion. 'You... You look good.'

'Yeah?' He holds open his blazer, allowing you to get a full look as he slowly spins on the balls of his shoes and pinches at the skin of his stomach. 'Hero weekly says I'm chubby now.'

You're tempted to lie, to tell him that he's looked better, but you don't. 'No, you look good, healthy. It suits you.'

Something in Kaminari's chest stutters and he has to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth before he speaks again. 'Light?'

You pause. 'You don't mind?'

His face breaks into a smile, perfect and shining. 'Nah, don't even crave the things any more.' He misses out the bit about having enough nicotine patches on his chest and arms to stop a bull.

You concede. There's a comfort that comes back almost too easily, like the past finally catches up with you. It dampens the fire in your stomach, leaving you clutching at the anger that had grown inside of you since that night. You lean forward, letting him cup his hands around the end of your cigarette.

His hands shake when he tries to make a spark. It takes one, two, three times of his thumb coming down on the wheel before it finally catches a light and he can step back to a safer distance.

'It's still the same one, doesn't work as well now though.' He mumbles flicking the cap of the lighter. It's silver, with a chipped yellow lightning bolt painted on the front of it.

If you looked close enough, you're sure you'd be able to find the rough scratching of your entwined initials, engraved by his shaking hands at fifteen.

You breathe in, savour the burning of smoke as it infests your lungs and exhale. Turning, you rest against the rail and look back out over the field.

'So – you're -.'

'Sero said -.'

You both start up at the same time, the constriction of the silence around you forcing you both to attempt to fill it.

'You first -.'

'No, you – go on.' You encourage, arching an eyebrow.

Kaminari swallows. His heart thrums violently, threatening to deafen him, but he's just hoping that you can't see how bad his hands are shaking, how he can feel sweat beginning to bead his forehead. He's not an idiot. He knows how he left it, what you must think. As soon as Kirishima had asked him to be best man he’d felt his guts begin to twist and turn. The idea of seeing you again set his veins on fire. You cough and pull him back from the edge of his thoughts.

'I – uh...' He can't think. You're too close, too real and suddenly, his tongue seizes in his mouth.

Another beat of silence nestles its way into the conversation and you can't take it. You switch the conversation. 'Ei said you're going to work with Aizawa.'

He takes a deep breath and prepares himself to look at you, but it still doesn't stop the air being stolen from his lungs when he finally does. There's a flourish of nostalgia in his stomach and he swallows a grin. 'Yeah. He, uh, he sought me out. After all the – the, y'know, rehab and all that, he thought I'd be a good fit.'

'Yeah?' You raise your eyebrows. Kaminari's fall from grace had been far from undocumented. There had been barely a week that he hadn't appeared in some sort of magazine, his eyes dull and another questionable entourage in toe. Another one night stand, a model spotted having cocaine snorted off her tits; wherever there was chaos, Kaminari had followed.

'Yeah... We're, uhm, we're already working with a group of kids in UA. They got caught up in that villain attack down town. We do these workshops were we like pretend to be pro-hero's...'

Smiling, you raise your eyebrows. There's light in his voice, something you've missed and something you're keen to hold onto.

He snorts. 'No, I know, I know, but we pretend to be...' He shoots you a cheeky glance. '… Current... Pro-hero's doing interviews and talking about our experiences and stuff, y'know like it's miles away. Helps to sort it all out in your head, picture a future were it isn't all still hanging over you. There's this one kid, absolute firecracker... He stopped the whole fucking building collapsing before they could get everyone out, has a pretty nasty scar to thank for it too, but he does the most flawless impression of Bakugo it's almost scary.'

You bat at his arm instinctively and freeze as your hand wraps his bicep. For a second it's all too easy to forget you're not still teenagers clinging onto youth with both hands. 'That looks good on you too.'

'Huh?' He swallows before moving his hand to cover yours on his arm. His skin prickles when you don't pull away. It's hard to forget how it all ended. How he'd been too naïve to tell you how he felt, how he'd bit his tongue for months after he'd summoned the courage to finally kiss you and how he'd tried everything he could to run from the violent storm of emotions that had been released in his stomach that night.

It hadn't worked.

Avoiding you hadn't worked, neither had sleeping with other women or pretending it had never happened.

You lean into him, tightening your grip and the warmth of your skin reminds him that he's not the scared teenager he used to be.

'Helping kids, working with Aizawa...' You giggle, relaxing into his presence at last. 'It looks good on you. You light up when you talk about it... It's nice. Haven't seen you look like that since...' You chew your lip. 'Listen...' It's impossible to read him. His jaw is set, eyes facing forward as the cold begins to chap and redden his cheeks and you have to fight to push away the thought of how beautiful he still looks. 'I know you're only out here because Bakugo told you to be.' The accusation slips off your tongue too easily as the past rears it's head.

'I'm not – it's -.'

'You don't have to lie to me.' You offer him a broken smile, a truce of sorts.

'I really screwed up, didn't I?' He chuckles, letting smoke drift from his nose and mouth before turning to you.

'You did.'

There's a lapse in the conversation and he takes his chance. You're peering up at him, your eyes filled with the embers of something he hopes is affection and he dives in. 'Do you remember that night... Outside the school when... When, we -.' He feels stupid. The words lodge in his throat and refuse to move, forcing him to stop and haul in a breath. You'd think after all the talking therapy he'd be better at it by now.

He battles through, after all – he doesn't know when he'll get the chance to see you again.

If he doesn't do it now, he never will.

'When we slept together?' You sigh then tilt your head and finally give in, resting your head against his shoulder. Part of you wonders why he's brought it up, the other part isn't sure you care. Right now, you're just happy to bask in him. You've missed it: him. Even with the history between you. 'You don't have to apologise. I get it.'

'What do you mean?' Kaminari stammers.

'Well, It was a mistake, right?' It's a question disguised as a statement, but you don't give him time to answer before you're already trying to soften the blow yourself. 'We were young and people sleep together all the time, it's not a big deal. I just -.' You puff out your cheeks, finish your cigarette and drop it to the floor, letting Kaminari crush it with his dress shoe. 'I – I guess I just expected us to... It doesn't matter, you didn't want it and I respect that, just, it was just a hard pill to swallow, I think.

He takes another lungful of cold air, hoping the shock will calm him. It does, but only until he cranes his neck to look at you again. You're looking back up at him, your eyes wide and questioning, pupils blown out through darkness and alcohol. His gaze lingers on the soft pump of your lip and he's almost knocked over by the rush of memory that reminds him you used to taste like strawberries and smoke.

He wonders if you still do.

'It's not like that...'

You swallow. 'What was it like then?'

His voice is a whisper when he finally admits what he came out her to tell you. 'I was scared...' His thumb ghosts the back of your hand. 'I'm still scared.'

'Denki...'

'Yeah?' He's vaguely aware of the fact that he's unable to tear his eyes away from your face, but he's too caught up in the feel of you pressed to his side, where you belong, to care.

'Don't start saying things like that.'

'Why -.'

You lick at your back teeth, fighting annoyance. 'Not now. Especially not when there's a bridesmaid wondering where you've got to in there.' You hook a thumb back towards the tent.

'I'm not – we're not, we're not together or anything...' He's stumbling, making a mess as usual.

You roll your eyes. 'You don't have to lie.'

'I'm not lying.'

'I saw you all over her.'

'Dancing – we were -.'

Chewing at your lip, you sigh. 'It doesn't matter.'

'No.' He takes hold of your hand, squashes his own on top of yours and pins you as best as he can without forcing your fingers to entwine. 'It does.'

You swallow. 'Why now?'

'I – uh -.'

'Why not then?'

'I was scared.'

'You know...' You slip your hand from under his and fold your arms across your chest. 'It hurt when I realised that I was just another fuck for you, but it wasn't as bad as loosing a friend Denki – We were friends and you just fucking ghosted me. No explanation, no apology, you could have just fucking ignored it and I would have let things go back to normal, I would have just -.' You're crying, kind of. Tears well in your eyes, but you're refusing to let them fall. You've spent too many tears on him already and your make-up took almost an hour to do.

'I was a fucking idiot, I was scared and – and -.'

'I think I'm going to go...' You nod, swatting away his hand when he reaches for you. 'It was nice seeing you.' Turning, you're ready to make a short dash through the tent, ready to be as far away from the constricting air of the deck.

'No. Please. Please, don't go – not again, I just. Fuck.'

A hand wraps your wrist, pulling you back just enough that he can slip in front of you blocking your escape. 'Den - Kaminari.'

'Just let me, let me get this out. Okay.' He's pleading when he looks up at you, but he can't let you leave, not without at least trying. 'I was a fucking idiot. I was so scared that you'd hate me, that, that I'd be a bad boyfriend, or you'd move away and I wouldn't be enough, that I'd be too busy with work, or it'd be too much and I – I let that get the better of me. I was already falling apart, even back then and I didn't – I didn't want you to have to see it, to put up with it. You, fuck, you deserve so much and... That night...' He hauls in a breath. 'That night was one of the best nights of my life, not, not just the sex – just being with you and I – Well I did fuck it all up, didn't I... Look at the state of me - I couldn't, I couldn't have dragged you through all that.'

'Oi.' You fix him with a stare. 'Don't go blaming yourself, not for what you've been through - or how you've dealt with it. Never, okay... And for what it's worth, I would have gone to Hell and back if you'd asked.'

His jaw ticks, but when he turns to face you there's something almost thankful in the shine of his eyes. 'I'd never ask.'

You chuckle. 'I know. You wouldn't have had to. I've have done it anyway.'

He swallows.

You roll your lip between your teeth and bite down. 'So you liked me... Back then, I mean. When we – I wasn't just, just another girl that you...

'We both know I did.' He licks his lips. 'I was a fucking idiot, I -.' His eyes widen as he struggles to find a word to summarise the years that have elapsed between you and leaves him out on a limb.

'Do you still...'

He nods.

'And if, if it were to happen again, you'd want that?'

'More than anything.'

'And you wouldn't run away?'

'Only if I was chasing you.'

You smile, straighten and curl your body into his. 'Then...' You whisper. 'Kiss me.'

He does. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he lets his thumb rub at the softness behind your ear as your lips meet again for the first time in years.

Things go quickly from there...

It's overdue. A coming together that both of your bodies have longed for, for far too long. He kisses the same, with lips that are a touch too dry and a hunger no-one else has ever been able to match.

You have a mind to stop him, have a mind to stall his hands as they press to your chest and seek out the stiff peaks of your nipples, but you don't. Instead, you let yourself be overcome. Your hands find his belt. It's almost too easy to do, to unclasp the buckle and yank it clear of his suit pants. You cast it aside and are surprised when he doesn't seem to care where it lands.

He pushes you back, urging you further and further away from the wedding still raging inside and towards the scant privacy the deck can offer.

Although, it's more than obvious that neither of you care.

Each touch is electric. A build of emotion that had crystallised, now dissolving into your hands and dripping through your fingers. It's rough and needy, desperate, but more than that, it feels right.

'Here, quick.' You pull at the lapel of his suit jacket, yanking him impossibly closer.

He misreads the signs, twisting and turning as he attempts to wriggle from his jacket and slip it from his shoulders.

Tugging it back into place, you shake your head. 'No time, just...' You let your hand slide down his chest, feeling your way across the expanse of him before slipping your fingers into the waist of his suit pants. '… Come here.'

Kaminari moans as you make quick work of his pants, shoving them eagerly half way to his thigh. 'Don't need to tell me twice.' He chuckles, using what little air remains in his lungs to whine as your fingers graze over his hardening cock.

You tease for barely a second longer before taking hold of him and squeezing.

'Fuck.' His head rocks back on his shoulders, eyes rolling to the skies as he sinks into the feeling of having you again. 'I've missed you. Shit.'

You chuckle and lean in close, pressing your chest to his as you lick at the shell of his ear. 'Have you missed me or just my hand?'

Immediately, he pulls back. His hands wrap around your elbows as he holds you at arms length. He looks comical, with his pants clinging to the thin at the end of his thighs and his grey boxers almost dyed black, stained with pre-cum as his cock pulses in its confines, spilling more desperation onto the fabric. 'I really have missed you...'

Stooping to catch your eye, he raises his eyebrows and offers you a smile. 'You. Not the sex, not anything else. Yo -.'

You barely let him finish his sentence before you're breaking from his constriction and pressing back into him. 'I've missed you too...' Biting his lip, you ease the sting with a kiss. 'But, we really don't have a lot of time and I'm so fucking wet I -.'

He whines against your mouth. 'Can – Fuck, let me taste.'

'Maybe later.'

The idea of later makes his blood sing, but the sound of the party still raging inside quickly refocuses him on the task at hand. 'Think I can make you cum in five minutes?'

'Oh.' You squeak when his hand pinches at your ass. 'I fucking hope so.'

'Challenge accepted.' Grinning from ear to ear, Kaminari presses back until you bump against the wooden railing of the deck. His hands roam across your body, squeezing and nipping at everything he can reach. Reaching up, he takes hold of the strap before pausing. 'Can I?' Or will this rip?'

'It'll be fine... Just -' You push your chest out, helping as best you can as Kaminari pulls down the front of your dress to expose you to the air.

The cold air forces your nipples to pebble immediately, the lip of your dress forcing your breasts to sit high and pretty and in perfect reach of Kaminari's wondering hands.

He cups your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples until you squirm. If he had time, he'd savour this. He'd crane his neck, bow to your beauty and take one of those hardened rose buds into his mouth. He'd taste your skin, savour the salt and lick effortlessly over you until your cries became the background noise to his dreams. Licking his teeth, he looses himself to the feeling of you filling his hand. The fat of your tit spills through his fingers as he squeezes, earning another breathy gasp from you before turning his attention to other areas.

'Denki...' You're breathing heavy already, your chest heaving as Kaminari takes his pleasures feeling every inch of you. His hands sink, exploring. He pinches at your ribs, skates over your ribs and grips your hips before landing a firm smack against your ass. 'Denki, please... Fuck, c'mon, I need -.'

'Yeah?' His pupils have blown when he looks at you. Rings of gold struggle to keep them in check as hunger threatens to swallow them whole.

You nod, helping him yank up your dress until it's bunched up around your hips. Shivering against the cold, your knees knock together as a wave of vulnerability suddenly washes over you. You're freezing. The arousal trapped in your underwear cooling by the second, even as your cunt burns to be touched.

'Fuck...' Kaminari's hand sinks into your underwear the second it can. His fingers brush across trimmed pubic hair before petting, gently, at your clit.

You moan, bucking into his hand as he slips further and brushes his fingertips across your entrance. Bringing his hand back up, he presents his hand to you in the air. Your arousal shines on his skin, the glittering light from tent making it shimmer as he widens his fingers, leaving sticky strings to hang between index and forefinger.

He admires the shine. 'You're so fucking wet.'

Nodding, you reach for his wrist to pull it to your mouth – tasting yourself and cleaning his skin, but before you can, his tongue darts out of his mouth. He collects your slick like a delicacy and moans as your sweetness hits the back of his throat.

'Denki, I can't wait anymore... Please -.'

Kaminari wastes no time. In a moment, he has himself freed from his boxers, his cock hard and twitching against your stomach and your leg hooked lazily over his arm.

You tug aside your underwear yourself, exposing your cunt to him fully. There's no time to waste. Something primal eats away at your insides, something you're sure will only subside once he's seated inside of you. Your fingers itch, one hand playing with the strays hairs at the base of his neck as you look down and watch as he guides himself into you.

The initial push makes him hiss. You're tight. Tighter than he remembers as your walls wrap around him and clench. Locking his jaw, he hauls in a breath through his teeth and wills himself away from embarrassment.

Feeling him twitch helplessly inside of you, you grasp him by the lapel and pull him close until your nose touches his. 'Don't you dare. Not...' He gives you another inch, making you gasp and roll your hips. 'Not yet, don't fucking -.'

'Don't worry, baby. 'm not, not gonna.' Holding onto his sanity with his fingernails, Kaminari pulls back his hips and grinds back into you. The rhythm he sets up is uneven at best, but still, each thrust causes his cock to rub directly across the sponge roof of your cunt making you whine and cling.

Lips finding his neck, you litter him with lust. Your teeth find purchase, biting down to stifle the moans bubbling in your chest as he continues to fuck you, bottoming out each time in an effort to give you everything he has.

'You're gonna leave a mark.' He speaks through gasps, his pace stuttering as he continues to try and please you. The muscle in his thighs shake, his hands struggling not to clamp down on your waist as he pushes through the pulsing of his balls that threatens an early end.

You chuckle, revelling in the goose-flesh your breath leaves in its wake. It's intimate, setting a fire in your stomach as you pull back enough to catch his eye once more. You smile. 'What? Don't want your cheeky bridesmaid side piece to see?'

His pace falters. 'I don't.'

'Denki, baby... I'm joking.'

The pet name hatches butterflies in his sternum. They bump against the bone, tickling his organs and making him feel like he could float six feet from the floor. Not for the first time, he curses his own previous cowardice for stealing away all the pet names the past could have gifted him.

Bringing your foreheads together, you pant, breathing in each others air for a moment.

It's always felt like a cop out to call him 'The one that got away'. The title had never fit, no matter how much you'd wanted it to – or wished at one point and yet, right here, now, you wonder how you'd ever even brought yourself to think of him like that. 'Denki... Denks.' He hums, transfixed by a look he'd only been able to imagine in your eyes. 'What – what do you need. Tell me.'

You chew your lip, muttering. 'I'm never going to cum like this.'

'Ah.' His eyes light up, a shock of understanding zipping through him.

It might have been years, but he remembers every second of that night you spent together. He remembers you quaking, remembers how you'd looked on your hands and knees, thighs shaking as your spine curved deliciously, your ass bouncing as you rocked yourself back on his cock desperately. How could he forget?

Slipping out of you, he pulls back only enough to lay his hands on your waist and spin you.

You twist, dizzy and grab hold of the railing to steady yourself. Instantly, you're up on your tip-toes, back curved as you wait, pretty and presented. Anticipation lances through your legs making holding yourself up difficult, but it's all worth it when you feel him stretch you open and slide home.

Not giving you a second to adjust, he sets a blinding pace, spurred on by the memory of what it had felt like to have you fall apart around him. The fingers of his right hand dig into the flesh of your hip as the other slides up your back and takes hold of your neck. He grips, leaning over you to whisper, hoarse, in your ear. 'Touch yourself... Touch yourself for me, show me how good you feel, baby.'

You obey. Slipping a hand between your legs, you spread your fingers to feel him rutting into you for a moment. The skin of his cock is silk soft and slippery with your arousal, grazing the sides of your fingers as you shift and finally, begin to rub at your clit.

'Fuck...' Kaminari's grip on your hip stutters, growing light as he feels you tighten up around him. 'Go – Good girl. Shit. I'm not – not gonna last, I -.'

You don't need him too. In a few moments, you feel the telltale rush. Your cunt aches, clit pulsing as your orgasm threatens to reduce you to your knees. With your eyes rolling back into your head, you struggle to keep circling your clit, but Kaminari's fingers replace yours without you asking.

His movement is clumsy, but he manages to fuck you through your high either way. 'Holy, holy fuck... You feel, feels so – fucking Hell.' Stuttering, he struggles through, pouring his focus into you as you milk him relentlessly, bringing him closer and closer to his own end. With a tight chest, you reel back, glancing over your shoulder.

Kaminari's face is flushed, his cheek bones brushed with a pink that makes him look boyish and young. The edge of his mouth is twisted, a cause of his teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek and his jaw is clenched, bringing out the cut line of his jaw.

He's close. You can tell. The thought thrills you, your cunt tightening on impulse as you await your prize.

'Where, fuck, fuck... I can't cum on your dress, you're – you're gonna have to move, or, or -.'

Reaching back, you grab at the edge of his suit jacket and pull at him, forcing his hips against your ass. 'Inside.'

He doesn't get a chance to think, his body makes the decision for him. His balls tighten, pulsing as he cums, emptying himself inside of you. Curling over, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, teeth scraping against the exposed skin as he pours himself into you, pumping you full.

With your stomach full and his lips grazing the base of your neck, you relax into a bone-deep kind of satiation you'd not felt since that night. It's surreal. Absurd as you come crashing back to reality as realise that the party has begun to quieten inside of the tent.

He's still dripping out of you when you hear the high pitched whistle cut through the air.

Kamiari turns. Tearing his suit jacket from his shoulders, he drapes it over your hips, covering his own mess.

'You two made up then?' Sero's smile is blinding. His hands are dug into his pockets, thumbs poking out over the material as he shrugs himself into his shoulders. He's plastered, his hair mattered and a mess as it falls from its bun, but even the alcohol making him stagger doesn't put a stop to his mischief.

Kaminari panics. His voice is still breathless, shaking slightly from the force of the orgasm that had almost had him seeing static. He should have made you cum quicker, shouldn't have slowed down the way he did. Fuck, he should have asked you to come back to his hotel. You deserve better than a quick, forgive me fuck outside of a tent in almost freezing temperature. He curses himself and cringes. 'How long have you been stood there?'

'Long enough to be pitching a tent, you guys don't fuck around huh...' He chuckles to himself. 'Well, I guess you do but -.'

Struggling with your dress, you can't help the smile that breaks your lips when Kaminari shields you and helps get your tits situated and hidden once more. Stepping from behind him, you slide a hand down his arm and twist your fingers in his. Hoping this time he won't run away. 'What do you want Hanta? We're just about to get out of here.'

Even if you had been trying to miss the smile that brightens Kaminari's face, you wouldn't have been able to. He re-adjusts his jacket, now slung over your shoulders and squeezes your hand tight.

Sero chuffs. Still too drunk to know better. 'When I first came out here I just wanted to smoke, but now I'm thinking of asking to watch.'

Reaching down, you pluck one of your heels from the floor before turning and throwing it headlong at Sero's head.

He ducks, laughing as the shoe goes wide. 'That a maybe then?'

'Hanta...' Kaminari whines, but Sero is already backing away holding his hands up in a mock surrender.

'Woah, woah...' A cheeky smile tugs at his lip, bringing his left dimple out in a way that only happens when there's real mischief up his sleeve. 'I guess now would be a bad time to tell you that the lights out here cause a pretty solid shadow to be cast on the side of that tent then, huh?'

The colour drains from both of your faces. 'No...'

Sero's eyes shine as he reaches into his pocket and removes his phone. 'I've got a video of it if you don't believe me...'

-> Masterlist

[polakina]

how they kiss you

red dead redemption headcanons #1

hc masterlist // masterlist

wanted to do some rdr2 headcanons since my cod ones have been so fun. send in any ideas. im all ears, petals

rating: explicit

-

every kiss with this man feels like a breath of fresh air

so passionate

he loves catching you off guard with kisses

smiles when he sees your look of bewilderment when he sneaks behind you, planting a kiss on your cheek

likes to hold your face when he kisses you, his hands on your cheeks, holding you close

smells of burnt wood and tastes of cigarettes, but you love it nonetheless

always kisses softly, but deeply, until your head clouds and you can't focus on anything but the moment

favourite place to kiss you is your neck

likes to sit behind you at the campfire when he's taking a break from playing his guitar

he wraps his arms around you and kisses your neck softly every time

you think it's just because he likes to be close to you

but the real reason is because he can feel your pulse quicken under your skin, the beating against his lips speeding up with each kiss

it's your favourite place to be kissed, and he knows it

is the instigator of most kisses

tilts your chin up if you're sat at the camp table to kiss your lips

pulls you into him by your waist if you're passing by and kisses your cheek before going on watch around camp

nsfw (minors LEAVE)

you can tell when he's needy for you just based on how he kisses you

in camp, it's sweet but fleeting

he never lingers

when you're alone, they're deeper, his tongue searching the crevice of your mouth

or even if you're at the campfire with everyone else, and he kisses you until the breath leaves your lungs, you know exactly what he wants

he may love to kiss your neck, but nothing beats kissing his way down your body in the confines of your shared tent

kissing your stomach and your thighs, the noises you make, his lips never want to leave your skin

he likes to bite your bottom lip when he kisses you, mumbling against your neck as he works his way down your body about how much he wants you, all the things he wants to do to you

he kisses you like it's the last time his lips will ever touch yours

fervently, passionately

and nothing but that

his lips are planted hard and firmly against yours, his hands cradling the back of your neck and wrapped around your lower back

always says he loves you between kisses

his favourite place to kiss you are your hands, though

sweet, innocent hand or knuckle kisses are what he really loves

takes your hand in his whenever he's preparing to ride out, and leans down from his horse to kiss the back of your hand

his beard always tickles your skin, and he smiles when you giggle at the roughness of his scruff

he started to kiss your knuckles because you did it to him

his bruised fingers and bloodied knuckles, you kissed them and said it'd make his hands feel better

it was bullshit, but you did it anyway, and he loved it

likes to kiss all over your face, peppering your features in his kisses

he stands taller than you, so likes to tip your head up to kiss you

dips his head with a smirk on his face when he kisses your lips

nsfw (minors LEAVE)

always starts with your hands when you're in the bedroom

kisses each of your knuckles while his eyes remain fixed on yours

loves loves LOVES to kiss you when he's inside you

whether you're on top, sinking down slowly onto him, or whether he's hovered above you

he loves kissing you slowly, deeply, his tongue mingling with yours as his taste of whiskey and smoke seeps into your mouth

loves when you moan into his mouth, that shit could make arthur cum on the spot

especially loves to kiss you afterwards, kissing the tip of your nose as you laid there together, breathing some air back into your lungs

his kisses are hesitant, and you can feel the nerves behind his kisses

he was especially nervous to kiss you the first time. the man was a bag of shakes when he first kissed you

and he's been like that ever since

he's a simple man

his favourite place to kiss you is your lips

sweet innocent kisses from him when you wake in a morning is what fuels you for the day

before he leaves for a job, or to hunt, or to basically anything, will kiss you softly and quickly, almost as if he didn't kiss you at all

they're quick pecks, he doesn't do much more than that

like i said, he's a simple man

is first and foremost a gentleman, will ask to kiss you when you get a moment alone

doesn't like pda, won't do it in front of the group unless he's in a panic from a job gone wrong

that's when he'll hold you tightly, kissing you deeply and whispering how much you worried him

but other than that, will ask for your permission

you've told him countless times he doesn't have to ask, and countless times he's ignored you and asked anyway

nsfw (minors LEAVE)

when he fucks you, he mainly kisses you to keep himself quiet

if he didn't, his groans would fill the tent

the man cannot be quiet

but when he's in that blissful moment of feeling you clench around his cock, he practically begs for you to kiss him

he loves being close to you when the two of you are alone

"fuck. please kiss me, darlin'. you feel too good. i need you"

kisses you with a sense of passion you haven't felt before when he's inside you

bites your bottom lip, your neck, kisses all over your chest and breasts

absolutely obsessed with your body

[sugar-omi]

[part 2/alt, fem/afab reader]

imagine deciding to lose your virginity to cove.

you're both eighteen, horny as shit, but you don't wanna give it up to just anyone. so it only makes sense to lose it to your best friend right? and not some college douche who'll only brag about popping another freshman cherry

cove's so flustered when the thought is put out there.

it doesn't even matter who asks first, because after the proposal is floating between you, neither of you can even think if you or him said it. the words, the idea. the thought of doing the act.

and when cove finally, but tentatively, leans forward to kiss you. it's all downhill.

it's a messy kiss, because even if you know how to kiss, you're both too excited to even bother worrying about making out like stupidly inexperienced teens, your tongues sliding along each other and your eyes rolling when cove sucks on your tongue, pulling at your clothes, flinging off his own clothes when you pull away to tug off yours.

you can hardly get your shirt over your head before his lips smash into yours, his body leaning forward, which forces you to lay back on the bed, arms tangled around his neck and cove's trailing from your jaw to neck, down your collarbone to your abdomen, leaving wet, dark hickeys along the way.

you can scold him later. but can you really complain since you've left your own set of hickeys on cove, some darker than others, sure to be evident for days

and even though it's his first time, he's a bit relentless. enthusiastically eating you out / sucking you off until you're begging him to get off, jumping and whining every time his fingers curl against your gummy walls

and when he finally sinks into you, he kisses your tears away, soothes you as he slowly sinks inside. he's trying to be patient. but his head is spinning and his senses are totally fogged up.

he's so sweet, really. holds your hand and everything, praises you, tells you he loves you. isn't even sure if he means it as a friend or as a crush, the lines of your friendship is blurred now. after this, it'd be way too awkward to go back to just "best friends", right?

but you trust him, you said so. both of you trust each other enough to at least not regret sharing your first time with each other

and even when his gentle, shallow thrusts turn into his hips slapping against your butt, his cock head bullying your sensitive cervix / prostate, even when you sob because you can't help but finish prematurely around his length, and locking your legs around him so he doesn't pull out.

can't even bring himself to worry about anything afterwards when you're making such a pretty face, hot and sweaty, your face twisted up with pleasure and you're clinging onto him for more

kisses you to muffle your moans, you're both far too loud, even if you have the house to yourselves right now. what if someone comes back?

it's so intimate this way. his arms wrapped around you, his dick lovingly stroking and hitting all those sweet spots inside you.

it's even intimate when he carefully cleans you up afterwards, as if apologizing for getting carried away, and audibly apologizing for biting your shoulder when he came

he didn't mean to be so rough, promises he won't do it again.

startles himself when he says it, he doesn't mean to be presumptuous! he doesn't expect this twice! but i mean.. there's time before you leave for college, so maybe a little more experience won't hurt..

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝐀-𝐙 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐌.𝐀

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x F!reader | WC : 3k | Proof read : KINDA | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN

Summary: Every letter of the alphabet with little nsfw thoughts or drabbles about our favorite Roman general

Warnings: NSFW TOPICS OF SEX AND KINKS ASWELL AS DESCRIPTIONS OF SAID ACTS

A/n: this is my first time doing something like this so yeah be kind and enjoy

A = Aftercare 

After more rough sex, Marcus becomes the epitome of tender care and devotion. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close, refusing to let you go. The contrast between the rough passion moments before and his now incredibly gentle touch is almost surreal. He'd call for a maid to draw a warm bath, and with the utmost care, he’d carry you to it, his muscles flexing effortlessly as he lifts you. As the warm water envelops your body, he’d join you, his lips tracing a path of tender kisses all over your skin, a soothing balm to any lingering soreness. He’d wash your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp, whispering sweet nothings and praises. If the encounter had been quick and urgent, he’d still hold you tight afterward, savoring every second until the very last moment, reluctant to break the intimate connection. He’d stroke your hair, his breath warm against your ear, murmuring, “You were amazing, my love,” as he cradles you in his arms.

B = Body part 

Your favorite part of Marcus’s body is his back, broad and strong, a testament to his domineering presence. The way it flexes and moves is mesmerizing, a silent promise of his power and control. Every muscle ripples under your touch, a tangible reminder of his strength. Marcus, on the other hand, loves every inch of you, but he has a particular fixation on your breasts. The sight of your nipples hardening through your thin tunic in a chilly room drives him wild. His large hands can’t resist kneading your soft flesh, his fingers deft and knowing. He’d say, “I can’t get enough of you,” as his mouth follows suit, peppering kisses all over your chest. His lips are warm and demanding, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He’d groan against your skin, “You taste like heaven,” as he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before biting just hard enough to make you gasp.

C = Cum 

 MARCUS HAS A BREEDING KINK OK IM SORRY BUT, every time he reaches his peak. He wants nothing more than to fill you completely, to mark you as his in the most primal way. When he's close, a low growl rumbles from his chest, and his hands become possessive, grabbing onto your hair, your arms, your head, your body—anything to ensure you stay in place. He’s driven by the need to make sure every drop of his cum stays inside you, a visceral claim that sends shivers down your spine. His intensity in these moments is overwhelming, leaving you breathless and utterly fulfilled. He’d whisper in your ear, “You’re mine, all mine,” as he holds you tight, his seed filling you to the brim. He’d watch with dark satisfaction as your body responds to his, feeling you tremble and clench around him, a perfect fit.

D = Dirty secret 

 he masturbates before battles to relieve the stress. The weight of command and the anticipation of combat leave him tense, and he finds release in the privacy of his tent, his fist providing the perfect outlet for his pent-up frustrations. He’d fantasize about you, the way you look, the sounds you make, driving him to the edge and beyond. The image of your body writhing in pleasure on his cock would push him over, making him ready to face the battlefield with a clear mind and a calm heart.

E = Experience 

 Marcus is confident and experienced, having been sexually active ever since he joined the empire’s army. He needed a way to de-stress, and seeing and feeling a girl lose control on his dick was the perfect way. He knows exactly how to make a woman scream his name, how to draw out her pleasure until she’s begging for release. He’d smirk down at you, his eyes dark with lust, saying, “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” before thrusting deeper, hitting just the right spot. His experience makes him a master of your body, knowing every touch, every kiss, every thrust that drives you wild.

F = Favorite position 

 Marcus’s favorite position depends on the situation. If it’s rough, he loves doggy style, the way your muffled moans fill the room as his skin echoes against yours. He’d grab your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with a force that makes you see stars. “You like it rough, don’t you?” he’d growl, his voice thick with desire. If it’s a more casual or de-stressing situation, he loves a good cowgirl session, letting you take control as he praises and degrades his perfect girl. He’d look up at you, his hands gripping your waist, guiding your movements as he says, “That’s it, ride me like the good girl you are,” his voice low and commanding. His eyes would lock onto yours, watching every expression of pleasure that crosses your face, his own pleasure evident in the way he moans your name.

G = Goofy 

 For Marcus, being goofy really depends on his mood. He's the type to let his jealousy flare up, his possessive side showing when he sees other men looking at you. But he’s also not afraid to make you laugh, his charm and wit coming to the forefront. After a dinner party when you’re both tipsy, he’d pull you close, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Did you see the way they were looking at us?” he’d say with a chuckle, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. Or after winning a battle, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, he’d be ready to joke around, seeing the lighter side of life. He’d spin you around, lifting you off your feet, his laughter infectious. “Come here, my victorious queen,” he’d say, planting a playful kiss on your lips, his hands wandering, teasing, making you giggle and blush.

H = Hair 

Marcus’s hair is a testament to his rugged masculinity. It’s messy but not overwhelming, a happy trail leading down from his chiseled abs to his pubic hair. It’s a sight that makes your mouth water, a promise of the pleasure that lies beneath. He’s meticulous about keeping it just right—not too much, not too little. When you run your fingers through it, you can feel the softness and the coarseness, a blend that’s uniquely him. It’s a reminder of his primal nature, a part of him that’s untamed and wild, just like the passion he ignites within you both.

I = Intimacy 

 Marcus is a lover through and through, and his primary goal is to make you feel cherished and desired. During doggy style, he peppers kisses along your back, his lips soft and warm against your skin. Each kiss is a promise, a reassurance of his affection even in the throes of passion. In missionary, he gives you love bites, his teeth grazing your neck and shoulders, leaving marks that are both tender and fierce. He holds you close, his hands cradling your head, his eyes locked onto yours as he fucks up into you. When you ride him, he meets your hips with powerful thrusts, his hands guiding your movements, his voice a low, seductive murmur in your ear. “You’re perfect,” he’d say, his breath hot against your skin. “I love watching you take me.”

J = Jack off 

Marcus has a healthy appreciation for masturbation, finding it a useful way to relieve stress before battle. But he also loves to pleasure himself in general. One of his favorite scenarios is to jack off to your naked body as you kneel in front of him, your eyes locked onto his, waiting for his release. His hand moves with purpose, his gaze dark and hungry as he watches you. “You look so beautiful like this,” he’d say, his voice thick with desire. When he finally comes, he makes sure to aim for your face and chest, his cum painting your skin in hot, sticky ropes. The sight of you covered in his release, your cheeks flushed and your eyes half-lidded with lust, is enough to make him want to start all over again.

K = Kink 

 Marcus’s kinks are varied and intense, reflecting his dominant nature and his deep desire to possess you fully. He has a breeding kink, a primal urge to fill you with his seed and mark you as his own. He loves to switch between leading and being led, finding the balance between dominance and submission thrilling. Degradation and praise are two sides of the same coin for him—he can call you his dirty little whore one moment and his precious angel the next, each word sending shivers down your spine. Squirting is another of his favorites; seeing you lose control and release all over him drives him wild. Bondage is no stranger to your encounters, with ropes and restraints enhancing the intensity of your sessions. Voyeurism, spanking, orgasm control, and gags are all part of his repertoire, each one adding a new layer to the pleasure he gives and receives. “I’m going to make you scream my name,” he’d whisper, his voice a dark promise as he ties you up, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

L = Location 

The location for your intimate moments with Marcus varies, adding an element of excitement and spontaneity. In the coliseum before a battle, the tension and anticipation heighten your arousal. Marcus pulls you into a secluded corner, his hands already roaming your body. “We don’t have much time,” he growls, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. The urgency and danger make every touch electric, every kiss a promise of what's to come. In the bedroom, the intimacy shifts to a different kind of connection—a place where you can take your time and explore each other fully. The soft sheets and dim lighting create a cocoon of warmth and desire, where every touch and whisper feels magnified.

M = Motivation 

 Marcus is driven by jealousy and the desire to claim you as his own. The thought of anyone else touching you makes his blood boil, fueling his need to assert his dominance. Winning you and your body is his ultimate goal, a conquest that he approaches with both passion and reverence. “You’re mine,” he’d say, his voice a low growl as he pins you beneath him. “No one else can have you.” His possessiveness is both thrilling and terrifying, a reminder of the intensity of his feelings. Each time he makes you come, it’s a victory, a confirmation of his power over you.

N = No 

Marcus doesn’t share. The very idea of anyone else touching you fills him with a possessive rage. You’re his, and he makes sure you know it. “You belong to me,” he’d growl, his eyes dark with jealousy as he presses you against the wall. His hands would roam your body, staking his claim, leaving no part of you untouched. “No one else gets to see you like this, to touch you like this,” he’d whisper fiercely, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that leaves you breathless. His possessiveness is intoxicating, making you feel desired and cherished in the most intense way possible.

O = Oral 

 Marcus is experienced, and when it comes to oral, he knows exactly how to make you scream. His tongue flicks and swirls, finding all your most sensitive spots. But his fingers—oh, his fingers are even better. He loves the way you react when he slides them inside you, curling just right to hit your G-spot. His guilty pleasure is making you squirt, and he’s a master at it. “Come for me,” he’d murmur, his voice a low command as his fingers work their magic. And when it’s your turn to pleasure him, he loves it when you deepthroat him. The sight of you taking him so deep drives him wild. “That’s it, take it all,” he’d groan, his hand tangling in your hair as he guides your movements.

P = Pace 

 On a normal day, Marcus starts slow, savoring every moment. He loves to tease you, building up the anticipation until you’re begging for more. But once he’s ready, his pace picks up, becoming so rough you think he’s going to break you or the bed. “You like it rough, don’t you?” he’d growl, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. The bed creaks and shakes under his powerful movements, but you’re too lost in the pleasure to care. His stamina is impressive, and he knows just how to push you to the edge and then pull back, prolonging your pleasure until you’re a quivering mess beneath him.

Q = Quickie 

 Marcus loves a good quickie before battle. The urgency and the risk make it all the more exciting. He’d pull you into a secluded corner, his hands already roaming your body. “We don’t have much time,” he’d whisper, his breath hot against your ear. The quick, rough encounters are exhilarating, a burst of passion that leaves you both breathless and satisfied. He’d thrust into you with a ferocity that takes your breath away, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you back onto him. “I need you,” he’d groan, his movements frantic and intense.

R = Risk 

 Marcus and you love the thrill of voyeurism. The risk of getting caught adds an extra layer of excitement to your encounters. Whether it’s a quickie in a hidden alcove or a more drawn-out session where you know someone might overhear, the danger heightens the pleasure. “They might see us,” he’d whisper, a wicked grin on his face as he takes you in a public place. The thought of others watching, of them knowing just how much you belong to him, is a huge turn-on. His hands would roam your body, claiming you in full view of anyone who might happen by.

S = Stamina 

 Marcus’s stamina is legendary. After a battle, he can go for two rounds without breaking a sweat. On particularly good days, he can manage four rounds with only a short rest in between. Each session is intense and satisfying, leaving you completely spent and utterly satisfied. “I’m not done with you yet,” he’d say with a smirk, rolling you over for another round. His endurance means he can keep going until you’re both utterly exhausted, your bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and sweat.

T = Toys 

 Marcus loves incorporating toys into your sessions, especially ropes and silk ties. He’s an expert at bondage, using the restraints to heighten your pleasure and control. “Let’s see how long you can last,” he’d say, his voice low and teasing as he ties you up. The feel of the silk against your skin is a sensual delight, the ropes binding you in just the right way. He loves to watch you struggle against the restraints, your body arching as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy. The added element of control and restriction makes every touch, every kiss, every thrust even more intense.

U = Unfair 

 In the game of teasing, you’re definitely the worse offender. You love to drive Marcus wild at every opportunity, whether it’s brushing against him suggestively or whispering naughty things in his ear when you’re in public. You can’t help but revel in the way his eyes darken with desire, knowing you’ve got him on edge. “You think you can get away with this?” he’d whisper, his voice a low growl as he pulls you into a dark corner. While you tease relentlessly, Marcus is more calm and calculated, choosing the perfect moments to get back at you. He’d brush his fingers lightly against your thigh under the table at dinner, or give you a knowing look that makes your heart race. “You’re going to pay for this later,” he’d murmur, his lips grazing your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

V = Volume 

 Marcus is a symphony of growls and grunts, his primal sounds adding to the intensity of your encounters. His deep, guttural noises make your heart race, a constant reminder of his raw, untamed passion. Every so often, he’ll slip up and let out a deep or strangled moan, the sound vibrating through you and making you even wetter. “God, you feel so good,” he’d groan, his voice rough with need. Those rare moans are like music to your ears, a testament to the pleasure you bring him, and they drive you wild, pushing you to give him even more.

W = Wild card 

 Marcus likes you in control more than he lets on. When you take charge, he doesn’t have to worry about anything; he can fully let go in a way he usually doesn’t. He loves the way you take the lead, guiding his hands, setting the pace. “Show me what you want,” he’d say, his eyes filled with desire as he watches you take over. It’s a wild card move that brings out a different side of him, one that’s completely surrendered to your touch. The trust and vulnerability he shows in those moments make your connection even deeper, the pleasure more intense.

X = X-ray 

Marcus’s dick is large and in charge. It’s about the girth of four of your fingers and three of his, with a slight curve to the left and a hard length of 8.5 inches 

Y = Yearning 

 Marcus’s desire for you is insatiable. His yearning is always high, a constant, burning need that he can barely control. “I can’t get enough of you,” he’d say, his hands roaming your body, never satisfied with just one touch. He’s always ready for another round, his passion never waning. The intensity of his need makes every encounter feel urgent and necessary like he’s been waiting forever just to have you. His eyes would darken with lust every time he sees you, a silent promise of what’s to come.

Z = Zzz 

 Marcus always makes sure everything is okay with you before he falls asleep. After an intense session, he’d pull you close, his hands gentle as they caress your skin. “Are you alright?” he’d ask, his voice soft and filled with concern. He’d kiss your forehead, making sure you’re comfortable and satisfied. Only when he’s certain you’re okay would he allow himself to drift off, holding you tight in his strong arms. His protective nature is a comforting presence, making you feel safe and loved as you both slip into a peaceful sleep.

[mikkomacko]

Philly burb is SOOO GOOD!

Do you think after everything reader has nightmares and panic attacks pretty often? And Nico probably has a heart attack the first time she'd scream in her sleep or something?

Omg this took me soooo long to finish writing but anyway I did something kinda different here. It’s just moments in readers recovery journey from Nico’s POV. Anyway hope you like it!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nico’s life feels a bit like a blur lately.

In the few weeks since Giroux and the Flyers messed with you, everything’s gone grey.

Even the fucking weather, Nico thinks, glaring out the large window in the waiting room. Thick droplets of rain trickle down the glass pane, splatter onto the sidewalk and streets outside.

It’s day two of rain and while that’s not bad for New Jersey, Nico’s more worried about you. Worried that it’ll drag you down, ruin any sense of recovery and peace you’d scraped together.

Truth be honest, he’s probably being paranoid. You seem to like the rain, sleeping better and relaxing around the house doesn’t feel like he’s pulling teeth anymore.

Still, he has every right to be paranoid.

Huffing, Nico turns back to the book resting in his lap, tucking his index finger under the page so he can flip through them easily. The rain patters in one ear, soft music in the other courtesy of his surprised and the shared playlist he has with you.

Nico doesn’t really know if he likes this book. It’s your favorite. You’ve read it a billion times and he finally agreed to read it too so that you two can talk about it. Now that you have a lot of downtime.

And he wants to do a watch party of the movie afterwards, go all out with one of those stupid home tents with fairy lights that he saw on Amazon.

Maybe he doesn’t like it. Maybe he does. All he knows is that for sure likes you so that’s his answer when it comes to this book.

Nico gets through a few more pages before the door back to the offices opens, and he looks up to find you trailing out from the doorway. Shutting his book, he rises to his feet and tucks it under his arm.

“Hey,” he greets, pulling his airpod out. “You ok?”

You stop in front of him, cheeks puffing out as you take a deep breath. He digs his case out of his jeans pocket, sliding his AirPod in and then tucking it away.

Taking another deep breath, you nod, but when you meet his gaze Nico already knows you’re just trying to push through. He can tell by the doe-eyed look you’ve had for the past few weeks, eyes big and sad, scared.

Bambi like, he thinks. But after Bambi watches her mother die.

His stomach twists.

You take a step forward, crowding into his space and tucking your hands up into your chest. Nico engulfs you in a hug like it’s a habit, holding you to his body and praying that for now this is enough.

He doesn’t like your therapy days. He doesn’t really think you do either.

But at least it’s something.

~~~~

The tv lights flicker on the bedroom walls, casting odd shadows and making him a blink a few times. He’s still not used to sleeping with the tv on and every time he inevitably wakes up from the laugh track of Friends coming through the speakers, he’s caught off guard.

A yawn stretches his mouth, squeezes his eyes shut and Nico realizes he’s flipped over in his sleep, facing the edge of the bed. He can feel you pressed against his back, your back rising and falling as you slumber and he smiles sleepily, imagining you wiggling backwards until your butt hit his and you could feel the warmth of his skin through your clothes.

Carefully, he rolls back over and curls around your body, chin on the top of your head. He throws a leg over yours, arm heavy in your waist and he hopes the weight of his body makes you feel safer, even subconsciously.

Nico’s just begun to fall back asleep when you stir, slipping out of his hold that loosens as you move. You sit up in the bed, a heavy sigh leaving you and he blinks his heavy eyes back open, tries not to be annoyed when he finds you already looking at him.

“Nico?” You whisper like you can’t see him and his lips curl the slightest bit.

“Hm?”

“Will-will you go with me to the bathroom?”

It’s not the first time you’ve asked him to do this but you still sound embarrassed. Even if he’s gone with you almost every night since Philly, standing guard outside the door.

“Course I will,” he agrees, voice rumbly and thick with sleep. Stretching, he follows you out of bed and lets you reach for his hand, guiding him just across the room into the attached master bathroom.

He doesn’t bother closing the door, instead turning his back to you so you at least feel some semblance of privacy and leaning against the frame. His tired eyes watch the shadows on the walls move.

After a moment the sink toilet flushes, the sink turns on, and he turns back to you.

“M’sorry I keep waking you.”

He shrugs. “I’m not,” he waits for you to dry your hands and move back towards him. Nico tucks you under his right arm, presses a kiss to your forehead. “I want you safe and happy. And if that means we become bathroom buddies so be it.”

You giggle wetly, sniffling as you tuck into his shoulder and he strokes through your bed head. He smirks, fighting back a laugh as he attempts to deliver his next line.

“Maybe I’ll change the plans for the house. Make them put two toilets next to each other so we can go together, eh?”

You gasp in horror, laughter wobbling in it as you pull back from him and exclaim, “Shut up!”

Shoving playfully at him, Nico giggles and takes ahold of your hands again. He guides you back towards the bed.

“Kidding, I’m kidding.” He swears, and the two of you settle back into the bed. You curl up into his ribs again, pressing into him like you’re trying to burrow under his skin. He’d happily let you, he thinks, blinking heavily.

The TV keeps playing, that damned laugh track echoing off the bedroom walls, and Nico falls back asleep holding you as tightly as he can.

~~~~

The bar has been closed for a couple hours, shut down for inventory and restocking. You’re sat on the bar top, legs swinging aimlessly as you watch him and the boys work.

Dawson and Jack have hung back to help, and Timo too because he’s missed you lately. Nico and you aren’t back to work yet, not really. But he figured something small like doing this might ease you back into things.

Nico, kneeling under the bar and arranging fresh bottles of alcohol, glances up at you through dark eyelashes. You’re looking around the bar like you’re waiting for something or someone, not on edge per se, but definitely not as comfortable as you used to be here.

He sighs to himself, going about his business when the sound of glass shattering shakes the quiet room. Nico immediately straightens up, looking down the bar where Dawson and Jack are holding stacks of clean glasses in their arms. Both of them look wide eyed and guilty.

Nico rolls his eyes, shaking off the jolt of surprise that rushed through him at the sudden sound. “Clean it up,” he says, already moving to work again.

He freezes when he hears the wheezy breath above him, peering up curiously.

You don’t look any different really, not at first. But the more he looks at you, the more obvious it becomes. You’re holding the edge of the bar with your right hand, grip so tight your fingers are white. Your face is pale and sweaty, lips parted. But it’s the way your chest is struggling to rise, left hand resting over it that he realizes.

You’re having a panic attack.

“Baby,” Nico says cautiously, rising to his feet. You immediately look at him, eyes wide and terrified. A strangled breath leaves you. He takes a hold of your hand, the one that’s pressing into your chest.

You fight him, limbs shaking as you forces you to move and wrap your fingers around the hem of his shirt. Your fingers grab him, pull him closer, intentionally or not.

Nico cups your face, holding you steady and staring you right in the eye.

“Breathe for me, baby.” He urges, making a show of taking his own deep and even breaths. You tremble, tears slipping down your cheeks and into his palms. But you try, shakily inhaling and gasping.

“Atta girl, doing so good. Just keep fighting baby, I’m here with you.”

He can see the moment your mind clears, the way your eyes flutter under his encouragement. The breath you take this time goes in easier, only rattled slightly when you exhale.

Finally you relax under his hold, the grip on his shirt loosening and you slip your hand around his hip.

Bottom lip trembling, you blink sadly. “Nico…”

His heart aches in his chest, so painful that the back of his throat stings with tears too. “I know baby, it’s ok. You’re ok.”

You pull him into a hug, inhaling slowly into his tshirt and he strokes over your back soothingly. He can feel Jack and Dawson watching you two, frozen and confused as to what just happened. Nico jumps in before those idiots can ask you something stupid.

“It was a panic attack, baby. Not as bad as they used to be, so that’s good.” He acts like he’s speaking to you, but glances over his shoulder to make sure the boys get it two.

Realization flashes over their features and they relax.

“It was the glass,” you say, muffled by his shirt. “I-it just sounded like the bottles and it was like I could feel it in my leg again.”

Nico coos at you soothingly, let you pull back so he can dry your damp and splotchy cheeks.

“Will I ever be normal again?”

“You are normal,” he assures, “feeling like this is normal.”

“Not my normal,” you argue sadly.

“No,” he agrees, “but you’re not usually normal. You’re…extraordinary my love. And you still are, you’re just healing.”

He doesn’t know if you really believe him, but you nod either way. He wipes at your cheeks again and you tuck your face into his shoulder.

Just healing, he reminds himself, hoping you can’t hear his racing heart. No matter how many times he helps you through those attacks, they terrify him every time. But you don’t need to know. She’s just healing, we’re gonna be ok.

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 21: "The Sound of Your Voice"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut [Comfort now exists in this series!!]

a/n: It has be SO LONG since this series got a much needed update!! But here we are with yet another little bittersweet installment. Though I'm working on a happier next part already tentatively titled "Declarations and Desire." And hopefully the tags at the bottom of the post worked, tumblr was giving me issues with the tag list for a few days. Feedback is always appreciated!

Lowering yourself down onto your couch, your eyes focused on the show you'd thrown on to watch while you ate, you felt your tired body relax into the cushions. Adjusting the plate of food in your lap, you made yourself comfortable for the evening. 

You'd had a meeting at work which had run late with your boss tonight and that was the reason behind you sitting down to eat takeout for dinner at almost seven tonight. You were tired and ready to just relax for the evening, looking forward to the phone call later that you’d come to expect from Matt just before you went to bed. It was usually when he’d return from his night out as Daredevil, giving the three hour time difference between you both at least one positive advantage because it meant that you could go to bed at a reasonable hour and still know he’d gotten back home safe.

You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t been difficult trying to navigate your new relationship with Matt ever since you’d come back from your brief visit to Hell’s Kitchen a month ago, though. The pair of you still talked everyday, whether it was via phone calls or texts periodically throughout the day. Matt had even begun leaving you sweet voicemails some mornings when he first got to work, knowing that shortly afterwards you’d be waking up on the other side of the country getting to hear his voice first thing. It always managed to make you smile starting off your day with one of those messages from him, and you’d quickly come to realize just how incredibly sweet and thoughtful he really was every time he left one. Which unfortunately also made you only miss him just that much more, desperate to be able to wake up beside him and hear him say all those things straight to you instead of over a voice message.

You’d also quickly come to realize that Karen had been right. You’d found yourself regretting not taking the opportunity to be more physically intimate with Matt while you’d been in New York and had the chance. You found yourself frequently thinking about Matt in sexual scenarios more often than not since you’d returned to L.A., which often resulted in you being quite sexually frustrated most of the time. His outright flirting with you over the phone hadn’t helped, either. Sometimes once you’d finished a phone call with him before bed, you’d found yourself needing a few minutes with your vibrator just to ease the ache he’d–sometimes intentionally–created between your legs. And often as you’d gotten off, you’d wondered if he was back in his own apartment in New York taking care of himself, too. And that thought only equally further frustrated you and turned you on more every time.

Without a doubt in your mind, when Matt came to visit you in Los Angeles in a matter of weeks, you were certainly not taking sex off of the table. Especially now that you both were officially a couple and with how many years you’d both been waiting for and wanting the other. Because who knew how soon you’d have another opportunity to see him again afterwards for that chance? You’d certainly spent enough years trying to imagine what it would be like to sleep with him, and you were without a doubt tired of only imagining it.

You also knew you wanted to tell him how you felt when you finally got the chance to see him in a few weeks. Of course the word ‘love’ had been mentioned between you both quite a few months ago when you'd first discovered your feelings had been reciprocated for each other, but neither of you had ever actually said it to the other since. Many times you'd found yourself biting your tongue when you were on the phone with Matt, struggling to not blurt it out to him. Often you found yourself overcome with the urge to tell him those three words at the end of a phone call, or to call him up after hearing one of his morning voicemails just so he knew exactly how you truly felt without a question of a doubt after the years of misunderstandings. But it was something you wanted to say to him in person when the moment felt right, not something you wanted to blurt out when he was too far for you to hold in your arms. Though you were dying to finally say it to his face after all these years, and you were even more anxious to hear him hopefully say it back to you in return.

As you were halfway through eating your sandwich wrap, your attention focused on the mindless show you’d thrown on, you heard your phone begin to loudly ring from across your apartment. Chewing the bite of food you'd just taken, you glanced over your shoulder towards your kitchen where you’d left your phone on the countertop once you’d gotten home. Curiously you eyed the device and its lit screen from a distance, wondering who would be calling you right now. Normally Matt didn’t call for another couple of hours; it should have been far too early for it to have been him. But then the fear that something might be wrong hit you and you quickly swallowed down the bite of food, feeling a little sick to your stomach at the thought. Especially with you being too far away to do anything to help.

Leaning forward, you set your plate down onto your coffee table and rose to your feet. You quickly made your way towards your kitchen, your phone still ringing loudly from its place on the countertop as nerves swirled in your stomach, mixing with your dinner. When you were near enough to your phone to see the name displayed on the screen, you were surprised to see it was in fact Matt calling you. Brows furrowing at the sight of his name, you felt worry and concern further fill you as your hand darted out, picking the phone up in a rush before frantically sliding the button over to answer the call.

“Matt?” you asked, feeling slightly panicked. “Is everything alright? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“What?” he asked, sounding confused. “Yeah, of course everything is okay, sweetheart. Why would you think something was wrong?”

You sighed in relief, the tension easing from your shoulders as you leaned back against the counter behind you. You didn’t even know what you’d do if he’d called because he was bleeding out in his apartment right now.

“Because it's a bit early for your usual phone call,” you pointed out. “Normally you’re out later than this so you call me later. I just figured something was wrong.”

“Ahh, I see,” he answered. “I’m sorry to have scared you, sweetheart. I didn’t think calling you early would have you thinking something was wrong. But I actually wasn’t planning to go out tonight, which was why I figured I’d call sooner.”

“Not going out as Daredevil?” you questioned curiously. “Because you have too much work to deal with?”

Matt laughed, the sound sweet and soothing as it came through the line. You couldn’t help but relax even more at the sound of it, a smile sliding onto your own face as your racing heart began to slow. You longed to hear him laugh in person again, to be able to actually see the way his eyes lit up when he did.

“If that was the case,” he began, “calling you would be a far bigger distraction than just running out as Daredevil for a bit tonight.”

That usual warmth you felt whenever you spoke to Matt soon flooded you, your body sinking down into one of the nearby breakfast bar stools behind you at your counter. Your dinner and the show you’d been watching were quickly forgotten in the other room as you focused on your conversation and the sound of his voice instead.

“How am I the bigger distraction?” you asked him.

“Well for starters, if there isn’t any crime, there’s no need for Daredevil,” Matt explained. “So if the city is quiet, which it thankfully is tonight, there isn’t much need for me and therefore there’s nothing for me to do. But you on the other hand are always there for me to call. And most importantly, sweetheart,” he continued, his voice dropping to that sultry register he often used to flirt with you over the phone–the one he somehow knew had an effect on you, “I could sit and listen to you on the other line doing literally anything, even just snoring, until the sun came up. Whereas eventually I have to come back home and be Matt Murdock again when I go out in the suit. Therefore you’re the bigger distraction to me.” He paused briefly before adding, “But no, that’s not the reason I'm staying in tonight, either.”

You crossed your legs in your chair, curiously noting the sudden shift in his tone. He almost sounded…sad? Like something was bothering him. You’d certainly known Matt long enough to know when he sounded off, even over a phone.

“Sounds like something is wrong, though,” you gently pointed out. “What’s on your mind, Matty? Did something happen?”

Matt expelled a long, drawn out sigh over the line. The noise had your lips curving into a frown, especially with how exhausted he had already sounded when you’d first answered. You wished you were there with him in his apartment now, wished you could pull him into a hug because it sounded like he needed one. You'd happily sit there and hold him, comforting him as long as he needed it.

In that moment you found yourself missing the way you’d always had such easy access to each other in college; all you’d had to do back then was walk over to his residence hall and take the elevator up to his dorm. If you wanted to stay up all night talking and drinking, you really could have just skipped a class in the morning. Things had certainly been much simpler back then in some ways more than they were now, though you definitely didn’t miss the heartache you had always carried around not knowing Matt had been within your reach in more than one way that entire time.

“Nothing really,” he told you, his voice sounding a little dejected and worn. “It was just a really difficult week this week and I was having a…bad day, I suppose. I just missed the sound of your voice, if I’m being honest.”

You felt the ghost of a smile cross your lips at his words. You knew that feeling all too well. Truthfully you felt it every single day when you thought about him, but even more on the days that were long and draining. Days like today.

“I’m always just a phone call away, Matty,” you assured him. “But I miss you, too. I’ve been missing you more than usual lately myself.”

“Little less than three weeks and I’ll be right there with you, sweetheart,” he reminded you softly.

There was a smile in his voice, you could hear it in the way it had coated each and every word of his. Matt was not alone in counting down the days until you could pick him up from the airport and have him all to yourself in L.A. for a little while. You’d already been trying to plan things out, wondering what he might enjoy doing with you the most while he was here.

“I’m excited to show you around out here,” you told him, a small smile making its way back onto your lips. “Take you away from that cold New York winter for a bit. Maybe I can bring you to a beach out here, one not filled with tourists. My coworker showed me a good place shortly after I moved here.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a brightness returning to his voice already. “I’ve never been to the ocean before. Or a beach.”

“I know,” you told him. “Figured it might be a fun experience. Or at least…I’m hoping it is for you, considering your, you know, heightened senses.”

“Anything I get to do with you while I’m out there will be amazing, sweetheart,” he assured you. “I'm just going to be happy to be with you again. It's already been far too long.”

You ducked your head, your nails nervously toying with the hem of your cotton shorts you’d thrown on after work. He always knew the right thing to say to you, but you could also hear the truth to his words. Honestly you felt the same. You’d easily be content to never leave your apartment for a single minute over the few days he’d be staying with you. If you could curl up with him on your couch for the entire duration of his visit, you’d be blissfully happy.

“Plus,” he continued, his coy tone breaking through your thoughts, “a beach date most likely means you’d be in a swimsuit, right?”

Heat began to creep up your neck and into your cheeks. You’d certainly thought about the implication of a beach date meaning Matt would most likely be shirtless and splayed out on a towel with you, cuddling under the warm California sun. Giving you ample opportunity to appreciate his body and the muscles that his clothing always hinted at, something you’d never once been able to do before as his friend.

“I mean, yes,” you answered softly. “But what does that matter, exactly?”

“Ohh trust me, sweetheart,” Matt began with a deep, amused chuckle, “there’s plenty of ways for me to appreciate you partially dressed on a beach. Where my eyes might fail me, my hands certainly won’t.”

Your cheeks began to flame at the thought of what he might mean by that, your eyes slowly closing. Once more you found yourself mentally kicking yourself for not sleeping with Matt when you’d had the chance last month. Because once again you were beginning to feel that all too familiar dull ache between your legs that was begging to be relieved by him and him alone. 

Clearing your throat, you tried to change the topic before you found yourself too worked up. Something you weren’t entirely sure wasn't intentional even now.

“So what exactly was on the agenda for you tonight then?” you asked him. “If you weren't going out?”

“Ahh, well,” he began, sounding a little sheepish, “truthfully I was just going over some documents and counting down the minutes until I could realistically call you after work. But I eventually caved because I couldn’t make myself wait any longer.”

You sighed, spinning around in the breakfast bar stool towards your counter. Leaning forward, you rested your chin in your hand. “Why couldn't you have gotten the ability to fly with those heightened senses of yours, too?” you joked. “Or like, the ability to teleport? Then you could just show up here whenever you want.” 

Matt laughed lightly over the line and you closed your eyes, trying to pretend he was here sitting beside you. You would’ve given anything for that. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't exactly get a choice in what those chemicals did to me as a kid,” he joked back. “Nor could I have foreseen the usefulness of that for a long distance relationship in the future.”

“I know, I know,” you murmured. “I just wish you weren't so far. I miss you.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he whispered back, the mirth disappearing from his voice. 

A silence fell over the line, the only sound being Matt’s quiet and even breaths. Those three words once more rose to the surface in your mind, dancing on the tip of your tongue. You wanted so badly to just say them already as you sat there, but you knew now wasn't the right time. Thumbnail slipping between your teeth, you began to half-heartedly chew it as you fought to shove the urge to tell Matt how you felt about him back down. That ache in your chest returned as you did, reminding you that even though you finally had Matt, you didn’t have him how you’d always wanted him. Not exactly. Not yet.

“So how’s work been for you this week?” he asked, voice breaking through your thoughts.

“Eh,” you said, shrugging a shoulder. “Busy, even though nothing much exciting is happening at the office. Still certainly a lot less stressful than your week sounded with that big trial you were dealing with.”

A sigh slipped out of your lips as you continued to distractedly chew your thumbnail. If only you had a way to leave L.A. and realistically move back to Hell’s Kitchen. If only things could be different between you two now that you were finally together. If only you could just decide that you wanted to stop by his apartment and then just go there. Like how things used to be back in college.

“Something on your mind?” Matt asked.

“Not really,” you answered. “Was sort of just…missing how it was easier for us to get together back when we were at Columbia. All those Saturday nights I could just show up with a pack of beer at your guys’ dorm and lose track of time. Go grab breakfast together at the dining hall the next morning with you two while we were all still hungover.”

Matt laughed lightly on the other end of the line. “If only I wouldn’t have been an idiot and just told you how I felt, maybe we wouldn’t have wasted so much time. And maybe you wouldn’t be…”

His voice trailed off, his thought left hanging unfinished over the line. Though you knew what he’d been about to say without him having to say it. Maybe if he’d told you how he felt, you might not have been so far away in L.A. right now. If you’d known how he felt, you might never have left in the first place.

But there was no way to change the past now.

“Hey, do you remember that one night at the bar?” you asked Matt, sitting up straighter in the stool as a memory came back to you. “Back at Columbia, when you called me a female version of Foggy?”

Matt groaned loudly over the line, a grin growing wide over your lips at the sound of it. You could just picture him throwing his head back as he sat on his couch, remembering that moment from all those years ago. 

“Yes, I remember,” he told you. “Though I don’t think I’d thought about that night in a long time. That was the real reason why you left crying that night though, wasn’t it? Because I’d called you a female Foggy?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “Definitely not the thing you want to hear your crush tell you. That you’re basically the equivalent of their best friend.”

“Shit,” Matt cursed, laughing a little. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t truly know just how hurtful that comment was. I hadn’t meant it to be. But what has you bringing that up?”

You shrugged, aware he couldn’t see the gesture. Slipping your nail out from between your teeth, you began to trace the patterns in the quartz of your countertop.

“I’ve always wondered why you’d said that,” you confessed. 

“Because I’m an idiot, clearly,” Matt replied, causing you to giggle. “But honestly I’d meant it as a compliment. And I think when I’d picked up on how awful you’d felt thinking you weren’t good enough for Fog at the time–because that’s who I’d suspected you might be talking about–I was hoping it would help your situation. As much as I didn’t want to see you two together, in that moment it pained me to feel how bad you were hurting sitting there next to me. I was hoping that if you’d possibly meant Fog, that the comment would get him to see just how much you both had in common.” Matt exhaled a deep breath, pausing for a moment. “Though it was…clearly a stupid comment to make at the time. And it killed me to know how much it upset you that night after the fact. I’d never meant to make you feel like that.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, finger still tracing the stone of your counter, “I know.”

“Suppose I wasn’t always as smooth as I thought I was back then,” he muttered.

“As long as you don’t feel that way about me now,” you teased back. “I’m certainly hoping you view me a little differently than a female Foggy.”

“Oh trust me,” Matt said, his voice dropping back down to that sultry tone, the one now raising the hair along your forearms as it rumbled right into your ear, “there’s only one of you that I’d like to crawl into bed with and do all sorts of things to, and it’s certainly not Foggy.”

You felt the heat not just creeping back into your cheeks at his words, but now flooding your entire body and sending your blood rushing south. Raising your hand from the cold stone, you pressed the back of it against your burning cheek. Tongue slipping out, you nervously wet your lips.

“Well maybe in a few more weeks you can finally do a few of those things,” you shyly whispered back.

Matt made a pleased noise in his throat, the sound only causing your thighs to press together on the stool. Swallowing hard, your eyelids dropped closed. You could feel your pulse beginning to race, your heart pounding hard in your chest.

“I was certainly planning on it, sweetheart,” he whispered back. “Now you’re only making me look forward to my visit even more.”

“You’re not the only one,” you replied. “I uh, don’t exactly want to waste anymore time when it comes to that.”

“I think we’ve already wasted enough time,” Matt agreed.

And just like that, you knew tonight would inevitably be another night spent with your vibrator when this call finally ended. But you knew you’d be lying in your bed wishing you had Matt between your legs instead, and that only made you more desperate to somehow find your way back to Hell’s Kitchen and back to him.

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks @mattmurdocksstarlight @yeonalie @will-delete-this-later-probably @darkened-writer @kmc1989 @yomamasitsaroundthehouse @sumo-b98 @mrs-bellingham @shouldbestudying41 @midnightreids @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @littlenosoul @haydensith @anehkael @kezibear @dorothleah

[kisu-doodles]

I’m absolutely in love with the idea of John and Tilly being about the same age and growing up together. So here are some random thoughts

- when Tilly was first brought into the gang she was very cagey and quiet around the adults having just dealt with the trauma of being kidnapped by the foreman gang. Initially john was irritated because Tilly had to wear his clothes (while her old outfit was being washed) and he didn’t want her girl germs, but eventually felt bad when he saw her sitting away from everyone else (because let’s be real she didn’t trust adults) so john went up to her and was like what are you doing? To which Tilly was like go away. So john was like i found a dead monster in the woods do you want to go poke it with a stick and Tilly was so taken back she agreed! It turns out the monster was a hairless bear that had mange but they gave it a good poking and were inseparable afterwards!

-Arthur was tasked with finding them and was really pissed off until he noticed Tilly run up to him like omg you got to check this out it’s so gross lmao and so they all ended up poking the dead bear with a stick

-I think it’d be cute if Tilly still stole John’s clothes because pants allow for more dynamic movement

-Tilly and John were very good for each other having someone the same age to hang around with

-since Dutch taught them both how to read, I just have this image of Tilly and John insisting that he reads them a horror book! Dutch Is getting really spooked by the story and nearly has a heart attack when hosea suddenly comes into the tent to get his percolator. Tilly and John are screeching with laughter

- I firmly believe the two tried to the 2 kids in a duffel coat disguise for their first scam and to everyone’s surprise it worked

-Arthur woke up on many occasion to them having snuck into his bed. Usually with John’s ice cold feet lodged into his back and all the blankets stolen by Tilly

[canthelpit0]

Enemies (With Benefits) PT5

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Wordcount: 3.2k+

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, no angst, pet names (sweetheart, ma, honey, etc), nickname (Cherry), morning sex, oral m!receiving, p in v, creampie, implied cockwarming, happy ending. That’s all?? Short (bad) ending

(A/N: it was heavily inspired by this request. Sorry if this is ass or a bad ending. Tho I hadn’t even intended this to be a series at all. Thank you guys for 350+ followers. I love you all and I appreciate it.)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

Me and Chris had hooked up a few times this week.

It was ‘normal’ for us. Yet I noticed that it started to feel a lot more intimate and sensual.

It didn’t just feel like plain sex.

He started to give me aftercare afterward. Treating me with more care than ever before.

He wasn’t treating me like meat anymore. And it was confusing.

I feel like we’ve done way more positions in the past week rather than the entirety of this arrangement. Before it used to just be doggy, cowgirl, and the occasional, very rare, missionary.

But in the past week, we’ve done a lot of different types of missionary. And everything we did felt intimate.

Everything went back to normal. Or at least how normal it could be.

All his snide remarks didn’t seem as menacing and as disrespectful as they used to be.

I was laying wrapped up in Chris’ arms. We had a passionate night yesterday, and he cleaned me up and stayed over after.

He never stays over.

Ever since the day that we had made up a that day a week ago, he’d been almost, nicer..

I started to stir awake. I toss and turn slightly shifting. I open my eyes slightly staring at the wall opposite my bed.

I feel warm. Chris’ arms are wrapped around me tightly as he keeps sleeping. He was snoring slightly his face pressed into the side of my neck.

I at first relax into his touch, until I realize the hardness poking my ass.

Was he hard right now?

Christ, what kind of dreams was this kid having?

I shift in place pushing my ass back into him to tease him. And he actually whines under his breath.

An idea pops into my mind.

Usually, I wouldn’t do this, but who wouldn’t like to wake up to head, right?

I turn around shifting in his arms. I try not to move too fast to not alert him and wake him up.

I wiggle out of his soft grip, listening to the way he huffs under his breath trying to pull me back. But in his half-asleep state, he can’t really.

I push his hand off of me and gently push him back on his back.

“Fuck” I sigh under my breath. I look back at Chris’ sleeping face. The way he looks so calm... I wish he’d look this calm around me when he’s awake.

He was usually always angry. He always looked pissed off at me. Though in the past few days, he’s been nicer. I swear he has been, or maybe I’m just tripping.

I glance over to my bedside table where an alarm clock is sitting. It’s 5 am. Why the fuck am I awake.

I sit, my legs curled in so I’m sitting on them. I look back down at Chris. He breaths out gently his lips parting slightly.

I glance over his entire body. My eyes trail down his bare chest to his crotch area.

Since we had fucked yesterday night, he was only in his boxers, and I was only in my panties.

My eyes lock on the tent in his boxers. I lick my lips. For a second I don't do anything, just watching him breathe calmly.

I smile to myself shaking my head. I sit up pulling my panties down. I slip them off and throw them away.

I carefully climb over one of Chris’ legs and settle between them.

I trail my nails over his thighs up to the very top. I watch his body shudder at the touch of my manicured nails, a low chuckle leaving my lips.

My nails are a long almond shape. They’re not too long though. But I know that me trailing it over his skin like this feels good.

Chris stirs in his sleep. I trail my hand up to his clothed crotch. I start to gently, and slowly palm him.

He lets out soft whiny breaths that almost sound like low moans.

He lets out a soft breath opening his eyes slightly. I watch as Chris sits up on his arms lazily. His eyes are droopy, he stares down at me.

“You want me to help with this?” I chuckle my hand trailing over his crotch again.

His breath shudders slightly. His eyes are lazily open, he blinks slowly.

“Please.” He breathes out.

“Lay back down.”

He does as I say, not bothering to argue about it. He just lays down with a plop.

He lets out a breath when I start tugging down his boxers. I pull them off and unceremoniously throw them to the floor.

Chris has his eyes closed again, hissing slightly when the cold air hits his half-hard length.

“So good for me yeah,” I say softly under my breath. I cup his length gently. I look at the way my manicured nails look around him. “Stay still for me sweetheart.”

He does just that, only ever softly letting out breaths.

I start to slowly jerk him off. I listen to his low breathy moans and whines as I do so.

I lean down leaving wet slow pecks on his leaking tip. The contact causes Chris to whine again.

“Cherry, fuck” he breaths out. He was lying comfortably, his head on the pillow. “Please.”

I chuckle at the whiny tone. I slowly sit up peering down at Chris. He looks so cute like this. I let go of his dick listening to him whine dramatically at the loss of contact.

My eyes lock with his half-lidded ones. I lean down my lips capturing his in a sweet kiss.

“Just shush and let me do this, right,” I say looking down at him.

He huffs a soft laugh making me smile in response.

I lean back down again, making myself comfortable between his legs once more.

My hand cups his member again, my lips softly wrapping around the head. I swirl my tongue around it making sure to swallow all the pre cum.

Chris just hums in approval, occasionally letting out soft whines and moans. Everything he did was laced with an air of sleepiness, he hadn’t even fully woken up yet.

I reach back grabbing my hair into a makeshift ponytail so it wouldn’t be all over the place. I start to gently and slowly bob my head. While I look up at him through my eyelashes.

Chris lets out a shaky sigh But eventually sits up on his forearms to gaze down at me sucking him off.

I start to move more intensely, starting to jerk off what I couldn’t fit in my mouth, feeling his dick hit the back of my throat occasionally.

He tenses, his breaths getting shakier as he watches my every move with lazy eyes. Chris licks his lips. He was looking down at me with such adoration, our eyes staying locked.

I pull off with a pop making him groan under his breath. He throws his head back, still leaning on his forearms to keep him up.

I shift, now hovering over him. Chris lets out a shaky breath feeling me move. He opens his eyes, picking his head back up and staring back into my eyes.

I start to slowly sink down on his dick. Slowly but surely taking as much of it as I can. His hands instinctively go to my hips to help me grind into him.

“So pretty” he breaths out. His eyes are focused on me, my eyes locked with his.

I put both of my hands on his chest, resting my weight on my palms. I start to thrust myself back into him A little faster but still gentle.

The urge to say I love you was so crazy right now. I don’t even know why I wanted to say it. I just tend to say it when I’m giddy or when I feel good.

I usually only say I love you to my close friends. Only when i want to tell them how much I appreciate them. But that’s about all… so why would I want to say it to Chris when we’re not even friends?

I just hold it back and tell myself that it’s my impending orgasm making me emotional. I try to refrain from talking at all, for fear that I would let it slip.

“Chris” I breathe out still slowly rocking my hips against his.

“Yes ma?” He breathes out between low grunts.

“Fuck, you’re so good.” I whine my tone more pitched than intended.

“Oh am I honey?” He chuckles his tone more sweet than I’ve ever heard it.

I sit down for a moment, stopping the minor movements my hips had been making. He breathes out shakily and then looks back at me.

“Why’d you stop?” He asks with a huff.

And to be honest I don’t even know. I put a hand on my lower stomach gently pressing down. I could practically feel the slight bulge he was causing.

“Fuck I..” I trail off. I lean down slightly putting my face into the side of his neck. He chuckles wrapping one arm tenderly around my waist.

“God, you’re just so-“ I pause again. I left a small peck on his neck where my head was resting. “I could sleep like this,” I mumble.

He lets out a soft laugh at that. He wasn’t expecting that, but he also wasn’t mocking.

“I get that cherry, but would you like to get off right now?” He says lowly. I grumble in agreement, slightly starting to grind my body against his.

“Come on you got this ma.” He encourages leaving a light tap on my hip.

I lift myself back up again. He holds out his open hand for me to take, offering his moral support.

I take it intertwining my hand with his. I start to gently bounce on him again. My walls cling to his length harshly, as if trying to suck him back in.

“So tight for me ma” he groans closing his eyes briefly. I look at the scene in front of me, the way his eyes look shut tight, and the way he’s lying there calmly, his messy bedhead resting on his forehead.

This feels so euphoric.

His hand on my hips guides my movements making me pick up pace more and slam myself down on him.

“Just like that cherry,” he breaths out between light groans looking up at me. “Doing so well for me honey.” He murmurs.

The praise sends butterfly’s to my core. I love knowing that I’m doing something good. But beyond that, anything that Chris says to me makes me feel tingly.

And I don’t know when it shifted from anger to giddiness but it had.

I just felt so overwhelmingly happy.

I whine incoherent words of affirmation, Chris just chuckling at some of them.

My pace starts to speed up, as it becomes less and less controlled and more erratic by the second.

Chris bites his lips to hold himself back from groaning at the sight. Just from how much we hooked up he knew I was close. And he wasn’t wrong.

“Come on my dick” he says his breaths harsh. He watches me with lazy lust filled eyes.

I slam myself back down on him one last time feeling myself clench tightly around Chris.

He smiles at the way I squeeze his hand.

He lets me sit there for a second to get myself together.

And once I do, and my breathing gets more even again, he pulls me off of him gently. He flips us around so he’s on top of me and between my legs.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He breathes out, his tone oh so gentle.

Instead of thrusting back in, he grabs one of my ankles, pulling my leg over to my other. I oblige just letting him position me sideways.

I grab the pillow under my head and put an arm under it to make it more comfortable.

His hand trails over my back and side sensually. “You good?” He asks lowly.

“Yeah.” We were back to whispering now, and all of this just felt a tad bit too loving.

He cups his length sliding it between my folds, before pushing it back into my cunt.

My free hand goes to my ass, I simply put it there as Chris starts to gently rock his hips back and forth.

This doesn’t feel like sex, this feels like love.

Hell, we’ve never even had morning sex before. This was a first.

“So good for me mama.” He breaths out his tone low and soothing.

My head stays half-buried in the pillow, my mouth slightly parted and my eyes closed.

“More please” I whine. I hear Chris’ amused chuckle at that. He starts to thrust in deeper but still keeps his thrusts slow and sensual. One of his hands stays on my thigh the other one on the small of my back to hold me in place with a firm but not harsh grip.

I open my eyes briefly to look at him from the corner of my eyes. But the way those sensual thrusts were hitting every right spot made my eyes roll back and my soft breaths come out whiny.

I tried to focus my eyes on him as best as I could without them rolling back.

“Please come inside,” I ask in my best sweet tone.

Chris raises an eyebrow again. I remember way back in the day when he would refuse to do that with everything he had, saying ‘he wants to take no risks.’

But now he just smiles down at me and smiles nodding.

“Relax ma.” He chuckles rubbing my back soothingly. “Close your eyes and let me do this, ‘right.” He smiles.

I comply to his words, closing my eyes. I feel him start to thrust into me again. Still slow and sensual. A few small whines and moans leave my lips.

He starts to pick up the pace, the sound of skin clapping echoes in the room. I let out a few breathy whines, listening to his soft and low grunts.

I move my hand to my clit starting to gently rub it. Chris picks up pace even more now, chasing his own high.

And once I feel his breath get harsh and his pace more erratic I know he’s close and so am I.

“Good girl.” He coos in a whisper. His tone is soothing and sounds like silk to my ears. The sweet praise he mumbles into the mostly quiet room only makes me clench more.

I hit my climax a bit before him again. I clench around his dick making him groan. He gives me one last thrust before burying himself in me, Shooting his spurts of cum deep into my cunt.

I try to catch my breath, My eyes staying closed.

I feel him rub at the small of my back again. But instead of pulling out, he lays down behind me, not making a move to pull off.

He holds my body close to his, and I readjust. Chris’ arm goes under my head, his other arm wrapping around me to keep me close.

Once I catch my breath I break the silence with a soft chuckle. “Not gonna pull out?” I tease.

“No, you said you could sleep like this?” He challenges playfully.

I chuckle back in response.

“So, sleep like this cherry. Don’t you feel all full and warm?” He asks, lightly teasing.

★ ★ ★

So that’s how we woke up today.

Now it was after school already. Time had flown by so fast. We got up, cleaned up, and got to school. And now school was already over for the day.

I laid on my back. Simply staring at the blank ceiling. This was the bed that I woke up with Chris in today…

My thoughts trail off. And no matter what I try to distract myself with, I always end up thinking about Chris.

I don’t know what that was. But I liked waking up next to Chris.

I need to talk to him.

I sit up and walk to my mirror. looking into it I fix my hair. Looking to see if my makeup was still in place.

I hadn’t changed yet so I was basically ready to go.

I grab my phone and put it in the back pocket of my jeans.

I start to trod down the stairs fast. I take my car keys and swing open the door.

But right as I go to step out I see Chris standing there his hand raised as if he was going to knock on the door before I swung it open.

I freeze in my step pausing. I do a double take and so does Chris.

“Chris?”

“Cherry?”

We both pause looking at each other.

But before I know it my arms wrap around his neck and I pull him in for a passionate kiss.

He kisses back with just as much vigor. His hands go to my waist pulling me closer to him.

When he licks at my lips I gladly part them for him, feeling his tongue explore my mouth.

After a while we pull apart for air, our mouths still connected by a string of saliva.

My hand trails down his arm until I grab his wrist and pull him inside. I close the door unceremoniously. “We should talk.” I breathe out looking at the floor.

I feel Chris’ hand cup my jaw making me look back at him. He connects our lips again, and I sigh into the kiss. It feels strangely comforting.

He pulls away. “Talk to me Cherry.”

I look back up at Chris. I swallow at his tone. He looked so kind now.

What had changed?

“Chris, I-” I pause thinking of how to word this.

“I like hooking up with you, but I also like being close to you and talking to you. And..” I trail off.

He looked at me for a moment to see if I’d continue talking.

“I like you too.” He says under his breath finishing my thought.

I pause looking up at him. “You do?”

And with that he is once again leaning down and giving me a passionate kiss. It’s close-mouthed but it’s more than enough to convey his love for me.

He pulls away and I look back up at him.

I try to hold back the smile growing on my face. But the way he was smiling at me was making me all giddy.

I break out in giggles and so does he. I lean more into him muffling my laughter with his chest.

After a moment of laughing my smile stays firmly on my face.

“I love you so much”

And despite love being a strong word, it feels like the only thing that could describe this.

He looks at me with such adoration, affection, and… well, love.

He used to be so cold, but it looks like his anger for me melted away with all the heated things we’d been doing.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks sweetly his toothy grin on display.

“Of course.”

Masterlist

A/N: I have so many things that I still want to write (I have a whole list lmao). but I really loved writing this. my req + asks are open if you wanna send me something <33

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh

[prettyboykatsuki]

VIOLET | RAZOR. (GENSHIN)

✾ tags ; afab + gn!reader, aged-up characters, virginity loss/first times, established relationship, mutual virginity loss, nipple play, fingering, oral (f!recieving), creampies (reader is using a contraceptive), reader is mentioned to be an orphan / run away , 18+

✾ wc ; 6.1k (went to edit and went 700 words over the wc. pain)

✾ a/n ; i'm losing my mind btw. razor my only triple crowned character my most greatly beloved my angel my sweet. also i added the aged up tag mostly bc its the genshin fandom but. if u dont like that dont read. ez peazy.

also trust and believe the voice im picturing in this is his jpn dub. this is important

✾ synopsis ; you resolve yourself after many long years of abstinence, you're going to ask razor about sex the minute he comes home.

Razor is human. 

On a technical level, this information isn’t news to you. He looks human. His physical makeup is human. He needs to eat and sleep like humans do. Focusing on the technicals alone, Razor is very, very human.

It doesn’t change that he was raised by wolves, though. And you don’t want it too. You think it’d be a shame if he started to assimilate too much into human society just because he felt like he had too. You know how he feels about it. And that Boreas is the closest he’s ever had to a father figure, thus making his claim about Razor's humanity a rather devastating blow. He feels inhuman all while knowing he is. You think once upon a time, he really did wish to be a wolf. 

You’ve known Razor since you were a teenager. You’d ended up in Wolvendom after your exploration of Teyvat led you to its outskirts. You’d bonded over your similarities. Two orphans with no real place where they fit in completely and complete odd-ball personalities - Razor was an easy friend for you to make. Even when you eventually decided to settle into Mondstat - you’d made a point to visit Razor regularly and spend time with him in the forest. 

You made an odd pair of course, but you didn’t mind. If no one else understood you in the world - you know Razor always would. He’d listen patiently about all of your adventures and sit quietly as you decided to pester him by braiding his hair or teaching him new words. Loyal, obedient, sweet.

You never formally had the boyfriend conversation in the time you’d spent together. One day, however, Razor took you to meet Boreas out of the blue as well as the leader of his pack. You figured maybe it was something he did with his close friends. It only occurred to you that maybe this was a more serious meeting when Razor promptly gestured towards you and introduced you as his mate. 

Razor, predictably, was very confused about your minor freak out. You tried not to let it show during your little chit-chat, but afterwards you’d shaken him by the shoulders and interrogated him about his word choice. This of course didn’t register in his mind at all. According to Razor, you’d been his mate since long ago. He’d been courting you since the moment you met in the way wolves are known too. You’re an adventurer, well-versed in certain animal behaviors for the sake of survival, including wolves. 

And looking back on your interactions he was right,  Razor had been courting you from the start. The news made you flush, and you went back into Razors camp and thoroughly educated him on human courting rituals.

(“Why matter?” Razor asks, head laid in your lap while he looks up at you from inside the tent “Not important.” 

“Why would it not be important?” 

He turns towards you, head facing your stomach as one arm lazily wraps around your waist. He yawns sleepily, seemingly not worried about a thing. 

“You are mate. Mate last until death.” He explains, casually - like he’d always believed he’d spend every minute of his life with you. Like that was the only natural outcome for you both and that he’d never consider anything else. You want to explain, it’s different for humans. Humans don’t usually mate that way, you should say. But the words die out in your mouth as he clings closer to you “Sorry for..not asking.. properly. What are we…as humans?” 

You look down at where he lays, thumb brushing over his cheek. 

“Lovers or life partners. They’re closest to the word mate, in definition.” 

“Lovers easier,” He grumbles, eyebrows tightening at the complex words in your sentence “You want to be lovers with Razor?” 

You laugh. Light and bubbly and warm as you lean forward and try to mask the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Yes. We’re lovers from now on. And mates. And lupical, right?” 

Razor sighs contentedly into your midriff.

“And lupical.”)

According to Razor, you had been mates from the minute you met. According to your human timeline, you have been dating since you were both around 17. It’s been a long time since then and nothing in your relationship has changed.

You’re an adult now and you work with the city of Mondstat studying wildlife populations. You live in the city in a cottage, and Razor lives with you - though he spends most of his day outside. He does the domestic labor while you whittle away at papers and projects. Because of your job, you still spend a fair bit of time together in the wild. He has plenty of insight about the wildlife in Wolvendom and is keen enough on changes to give significant contribution to your study. His work as your partner is unofficial, but everyone acknowledges that you come together in a set. Where you go, Razor follows.

You’re happy with your life. With your relationship to your wolf-boy boyfriend, with the career you’ve carved out of scratch and the life you’ve built. You left your orphanage young and spent a long time on the run. You’re incredibly thankful for all of what you have and you could never think of what more to ask for. 

This is especially true for you and Razor. You’ve never had any real major obstacles in your relationship. Part of this comes from the wolven habit of mating for life. Concepts like pride are foreign to Razor. He says sorry even when he doesn’t completely understand and he has no concept of betraying your loyalty. Most things you can teach, he learns very quickly. But there are also some things no one ever teaches you to navigate. Some boundaries you can’t be sure you’re allowed to cross. 

You’re a blossoming, healthy person in their twenties and so is Razor. He’s scarred and athletic in the outdoorsy way and he’s a little more rugged now that you’ve both grown. He’s hit a growth spurt and he’s taller than you and every time you see his arm flex carrying in an entire boar to butcher in your yard - you start getting so hot under the collar you feel like you’re going to explode. 

The problem is: you want to have sex and you want to have it badly. You want it so bad it’s starting to make you feel like you’re a deviant. Like you’re some kind of harlot masquerading as an archon-fearing civilian.

But it’s so hard to bring up and you don’t know how you’re ever going too. 

You’re very good at asking for what you want usually. It comes with the territory. And thanks to your boyfriend's cluelessness about human social convention, asking for things isn’t embarrassing. Concepts like shame are learned through a lifetime of socialization that he lacks and while you could sit and try to teach him - you don’t think he would care either way. He listens if you tell him he shouldn’t do something, but that’s because you’re his mate and his lupical. 

What other people think is none of his concern. He cares about his Lupical. So if Lisa or Bennet or Klee tell him something, he might take it into consideration. But they, like you, love the parts of Razor that make him how he is and his complete innocence in some ways is part of that. 

You know you could very well ask Razor for sex. You’ve spent a lot of time together and you’ve learned many things about him. It’s not like there’s nothing there at all. Like his every other trait, Razor normally relies on instinct to guide him. You’ve learned through kisses and dry-humping that he can get hard at least. You’ll probably never know the details of his arousal, and the only you’ll ever find out is by having sex with him. 

You don’t know what else he knows. What Lisa has told him of the birds and the bees. 

You have tried to ask Lisa inadvertently, but she enjoys making fun of you too much to give you any straightforward answers. And in her own maternal way, she thinks it’d be better for your relationship if you go ahead and ask yourself. 

She’s right about that, but it’s also not very easy. You know Razor would never judge you. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do so. But while Razor knows nothing of shame, you certainly do. 

It’s your problem to get over. You know that. You rationalize that your fantasies are healthy and normal for someone your age. But there is something terribly humiliating about trying to express the extent of your desire apart from just having it. Is it fair to teach Razor about desire? Does he know of it already and the both of you just suffer in silence? 

Razor is a man. A grown man, and tougher than most men you know. He’s seen more than almost anyone else as part of living in the woods. You know he’s not some innocent fairy. But you can’t get over the feeling like you’re corrupting his sweet preciousness somehow. 

(This has its own charm, but that’s not relevant. Or maybe it is. Maybe there’s guilt for that too but it’s not something you can unpack) 

You’re reaching your upper limit on patience. Your hand can only do the job so long (though the import of sex toys from Fontaine do help) nothing can truly replace what you want. And what you want is Razor.

So, you’ve made your choice. When Razor comes home from…what he’s doing today - you’re going to ask him to have sex.

__

You’ve finished all of your work, did as many chores as you can, and now you’re waiting in your bedroom trying to read a book.

You haven’t even read past the first page, actually. But you’re trying. It’s hard to do anything meaningful when your brain keeps pivoting back to what's going to happen when your boyfriend returns home. 

You’re nervous and fidgeting, rubbing your socked feet together and running over the laundry list of talking points you’ve concocted trying to make this happen. You shaved but not bare because you know he definitely wouldn’t like it, but you’re clean. You aren’t sure if he’s going to like that either and he’s expressed that he likes when you smell natural. But it soothed your anxiety to shower so he’ll have to leave with it. 

You have no idea how this could go. You don’t even know how to prepare for the worst, because you don’t know what the worst is. But you reassure yourself with the fact Razor loves you and leave it at that.

You hear the door open and take a deep breath. 

There’s heavy footsteps that get louder and louder. Razor cracks the door open politely, peeking his head into your shared room. He makes a face, the softest little smile you’ve ever seen - before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him. He’s quick to undress himself - jacket and scarf abandoned along with his boots. Leaving him in green pants and a bandage around his chest and arsm. 

“Hi,” He says simply, coming down over to where you’re laid. He chooses to sit on the floor, folding his arms on the bed as he looks at you patiently “Missed you,” 

“Hey there,” Your heart is pounding just looking at him. He’s unreasonably handsome. Had he grown up in normal conditions, you think he would’ve been a very popular loner type. “How was your family?” 

“Good,” He says shortly, eyes warm and light “New pup. First time seeing since I was little. Very small and cute.” 

“I’m glad. Bet it’s nice not to be the youngest anymore.” 

“Come next time,” He says genuinely “They miss you.” 

Your heart is so full you think it might burst. It temporarily soothes your anxiety.

“Of course I will.” 

Razors eyes examine you for a minute. Your heart is still racing. Of course he notices it. He knows much more about you than you’ll ever know about yourself. His brow creases in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You look at him apologetically, immediately warmed by how worried he is. You give him a small smile. 

“I’m okay. Just a little nervous. Wanted to ask you about something.” 

“Okay. I listen. No need to..be nervous.” 

Right. He’s right about that. You sit up and Razor remains where he is. He’s seated comfortably on the floor, on his knees - between your thighs. He’s a sight for sore eyes, terribly rugged and scarred with nothing but honesty settled in his gaze. Carmine and beautiful. You fold your hands in your lap and before you can worry too much, Razor grabs one in his hand. 

He kisses your knuckles so gently, leaning his face into your palm. 

“It’s okay.” 

You figure it’s best to be straight to the point. 

“Uhm. Razor. Do you…know what sex is?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, it’s—wait what? Did you just say yes?” 

He nods again. “Miss Lisa taught me.” 

That witch. You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“And uhm, what did she tell you about it?” You ask tentatively. 

“Like mating but for humans. Best to do with mate. Good to be careful or else pups will come too soon.” 

You stare at him, jaw slack. 

“Right. And what else?” 

He racks his brain right in front of you. 

“Uhm. Can be for…feel good. Should go slow. Lots of things different from wolf.” 

“...Do you know how it happens? The specifics?” 

Razor goes a soft pink. Razor blushes. 

“Yes.” 

You have no idea what to feel. Not the faintest clue in the world. This is the first time in your entire relationship either of you have been in an awkward situation. You’re partially relieved it’s not completely foreign, partially feeling hot between the legs because you’re not corrupting anything. You make a face of uncertainty. 

“Oh. Uhm. Do you—have you ever.. I mean—have you ever wanted to have sex with me then? I-is that something you’d…want to do?” 

Razor almost looks perplexed by this question. He nods, then follows up. 

“Yes. A lot.” 

You nearly choke on your spit. 

“A lot?” 

“Yes. But.. Miss Lisa said to wait. Until mate asks.” 

You’re going to have a serious discussion with that damned woman later. You take a shaky breath, looking at him carefully. This is going to break you in a way you don’t know if you’ll recover from. But you’re fine, you’ve made it this far. And you don’t want to back down when you haven’t gotten to the finish line. The final blow. 

You’re not completely sure where you go from here honestly. Your brain was fully expecting to go on a long rant about sexual intercourse. Now that that’s out of the window, you’re at a loss. You decide, internally, that going straight forward is the best thing you could do for now. 

“Then… would you want to have sex with me?” 

His eyes widen then he pauses, looking worried. 

“Well…yes. But, worried. Not sure…how.” 

“Well, uhm. Normally it starts with kissing and t-touching and things like that. You can just do what feels right. Uhm.. and I’ll tell you… what I like. A-and what feels good.” You offer, trying not to show just how nervous you are even suggesting “But uhm… I also… think about it. A lot. With you.” 

His eyes light up, and you can practically see the change in him. You’ve never let yourself get close enough to look but when you see him now that you know, it’s obvious. He’s looked at you like this before. 

Like he wants you. 

“Razor,” You say, bracing yourself for impact “Come up here.” 

He’s quick to his feet. You lay back down and Razor lays himself ontop of you, hovering gently. He smells like forest, the rich warm scent of dirt and sunlight mixed with sweat that you’ve grown fond of. Looking down at you, he presses his forehead against yours with his eyes fluttered closed. 

“Mate,” His breath is warm like he’s been chewing mint leaves and sweet flowers. He does it sometimes before coming home “Love you,” 

“I love you too, Razor. You don’t,” You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of your proximity “Don’t hold back okay? You won’t break me.” 

“Want to..” He thinks slowly, brain clearly struggling to come up with the right word “Cherish. Want to cherish mate. Cherish you.” 

You give him a breathy laugh as he leans in close to you. 

“Did Miss Lisa teach you that?”

“Yes,” He replies, pressing his cheek to yours and rubbing himself against you innocently “Cherish you a lot.” 

“I cherish you a lot too,” You offer and he smiles. You feel your heart thump as you look up at him less innocently “Let’s kiss first, okay” 

He doesn’t reply. This much is familiar. Though this was something you had to teach him at first, you would go as far as saying Razor kisses better than you. He’s better than you in these ways most of the time. He knows how to read your body language down to the most irrelevant details, attuned to your physicality in a way that could only be inhuman. The first time he noticed a change in your cycle after starting some herbal contraceptives, you were turned on as much as you were afraid. 

His mouth is hot and overwhelming, plush as he kisses you passionately. He’s quick to open your mouth up with his tongue. Razor likes to taste. It’s natural for him to slip his tongue past your lips and lick at yours. You think if anyone else did it you’d be turned off. But with him hovering you over you, desperate as he pulls and nips at your lower lip - it’s stimulating.  It makes you wet before you can think about it too hard. Your hands curl themselves around his neck, tangling at the thick roots of his gray hair. 

He moans when you tug, and your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. You do it again, a little harder and the same broken sound leaves his lips in the middle of kiss. You swallow the noise before pulling away, looking at his face. His face is perfectly rosy, lips swollen from where you’ve been kissing them.

“Did you,” You look at him erratically, eyes going over every part of his face “Did that feel good?” 

He nods, dumbfounded. 

“Felt good but,” He shakes his head in disbelief “Don’t know why.” 

You giggle, delighted with the outcome. 

“No it’s good, that’s normal.” You say trying not to babble “It’s like your body’s weak point.”

“Not weak.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I have some too. Like my neck.”

You can see the gears turning in his head.  He tucks his chin against your shoulder and before you can speak to ask him about it, he’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck. He doesn’t stop at a kiss, though. He proceeds to lick the small patch of tender flesh, before sinking his teeth into it.

You moan. You moan sharp, almost like a gasp of pain. He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but when he sees you he stops. He blinks, then gives you a look you’ve never seen. 

His voice is almost chipped - richer and more hoarse as his fingers go over what can only be bite marks.

“Feels good?” He says, then adds more urgently “Where else?”

You’ve made him discover something. You’re sure of that. He looks awfully determined about it, too. 

You sigh shakily, grabbing his hands. Even though you’re trembling mercilessly, you want this. You want him. You let his hand squeeze around the swell of your tits - your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your shirt. With your eyes locked on his, you brush your nipples.

“H-here,” You admit watching his eyes go dark. Animalistic. “Uhm. W-with your mouth, you c-can suck on them.” 

He’s quiet. 

“Like pup?” 

You laugh. 

“A little bit like that, I guess. But it’s different.” 

He makes a small, approving noise with his mouth, once again thinking hard about something before he continues down his path. He leaves open kisses all over your skin, hands reaching to undress you. You help him, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere. His eyes are shut closed, in bliss as he licks and bites down your neck with no real grace. His tongue is wet and rough all over you. 

You can tell you’re being primed for something animal. Like being tenderized, worked apart in a way that makes you melt into something soft. Something that can be broken without teeth, that can be swallowed in one go. It’s not a romantic kiss as much as it’s a hungry graze, a gnawing lust. He’s not being so reserved anymore, and that means sinking his teeth as far into you as he can go, not enough to break the skin. Razor would never break you. But he might ruin you, might melt you down from your very center until he can tear you apart. 

You thought it’d hurt, and it does - but in a good way. There’s some sick sense of relief in how achy your whole body is. You’re burning up because Razor wants you like he’s starving. An emptiness claws at you, makes the back of your gums ache. Makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand nearly straight as you sink deeper in. You want to be full of him and you want him to get so full off of you. 

Razor doesn’t stop his tirade even when he gets down to your chest. Instead his mouth closes around your tit, hard incisors sinking into the supple skin but only slightly gentler than before. His canines feel sharper than yours. They must be. 

“O-oh,” You can feel your voice shake as you hold onto the back of his head. He touches the other one with his free hand, squeezing and massaging the skin. He rubs your nipples experimentally in the same way you did a moment ago. “Razor, hngh,” 

A noise is pulled from the back of his throat, a growl - so hard and heavy that it reverberates into your skin. You can feel it spread through your whole body, your core tightening up. Your skin is prickly. A solar flare shooting through your spine. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused. You can hardly breathe around the weight of it sitting in your chest.

“Your scent..change.” Razor says through a breath, a thick layer of saliva where his mouth once was “Hot. So hot.” 

You nearly whimper. 

“ It’s because I’m wet…Aroused.” 

“Wet?”

“It means I want to be touched. I want you to touch me down there.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Want me..to mate with you.” He sits up onto his knees, staring at you. Your legs are around his waist loosely. He presses a hand to your clothed sex. You jolt at the contact. “Want me to fill you, here?” 

He puts his hand on your hip, on your stomach - before tucking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Want to see. What’s wet, I want to see.” 

You lift your legs slightly, pulling your shorts off as you're bent at the knee. It’s embarrassing being bare naked in front of Razor, though you’ve seen him in the same state plenty. He’s quick to grab your knee and force your legs apart wide. He’s got that same focused stare, tongue poked out as he brushes the coarse hairs on your mound with his knuckle. You squirm under the feeling. 

“Pretty,” He says first, then follows with “It’s…very warm. Hot but doesn’t hurt” 

Razor explores with his hands. He runs his finger along your slit, before using his thumbs to spread you apart. He nudges your clit. At first you wonder if it's an accident, but when he does it again - rubs a pointed circle on the aching bundle of nerves you realize he’s being intentional. 

“Here, right?” Razor says slowly and gauges your reaction “Feels good for you…here. Helps.” 

You want to ask who taught him such a thing but you already know the answer. You nod helpless, feeling the way his thumb goes back and forth. He tries it in different ways, watches whatever way makes your breath hitch the most. 

“Here makes you… jump. Like bunny rabbit. Like prey”

The word prey almost takes you out. You can’t make your words out very eloquently anymore. “It’s uhm sensitive.” 

He knows the word. You’ve taught him it. He looks at your bare cunt all awestruck, gloved hand resting on your sex as he continues to toy with your clit. You squirm and shake, even trying to pull away. Razor manages to grab you, keeps you pinned with your legs spread, using his own body to keep you like that. 

“Razor,” You moan, grabbing at his wrist “Razor.” 

“Mm. It’s soft. So soft.” 

“I want to see yours.” 

It takes him a second to register your words, but he’s not ashamed in the slightest when he does. He takes off his gloves right before. You’ve felt it, briefly, the weight and heft of his cock through clothes but you’ve never actually seen it. You gasp as he pulls it out, tucking his pants down under his balls. He’s hairy - thick dark gray hairs nested at the base. His cock has a pretty curve up, tip ruddy and bright. It’s drooling, dribbling pre-cum and heavy. He wraps his free hand around the base and strokes it instinctively. It’s a good length, but it’s thick. Thicker than you could’ve ever conjured up in your own mind.

You reach for it between your bodies, your hands trembling as you touch it. Razor lets out another throaty growl. Your hand doesn’t fit around it completely. The back of your throat tightens up.

“You’re—it’s big. I can’t—not at once. I h-have to open myself up a little bit.” 

Razor tilts his head to one side and you shake yours in reply. 

“I need to uhm,” You gesture vaguely “Make it more..wet and stretch myself out. So you fit i-inside.” 

“Want to help. Teach me.” 

“...Teach you?” 

“Easier if I..learn now. When we do it again later. Teach me..how to touch you.” 

The words sound sweet coming out of his mouth, honeyed and loving. An obedient and eager pupil, Razor has always been that hasn’t he? And he always listens the best he can, tries his hardest. You suppose that this instance is no different. You suck in a breath and spread your legs a little more. 

“Watch,” 

Razor watches. He watches as you dip your fingers into your mouth and coat them with saliva. Watches as you snake a hand in between your legs and dip your middle finger down low into your cunt - with a trembling sigh at the sudden intrusion. He watches intimately as you pump them in and out, rhythmic and noisy. The sound of your own wet heat rings in your ears as you spread yourself in earnest. 

Half-way through, Razor puts a hand on your thigh. He pushes your own hand away, and waits for you to open your eyes. He stares at you, long and hard. 

“I want to eat you. Want to lick,” His hand cups your bare pussy “Here. Make you wet. Open you by myself. Want to eat.” 

You’re speechless. Profoundly turned on by the sentiment, so much so you can’t make out your own voice. 

“Uhm,” You close your hands into a fist, tucking your chin. “You can do whatever you like, Razor.” 

He assesses the statement and you watch him take it in. He ends up on his stomach, lying between your thighs. You’re fascinated by his assurance in himself. He takes the right position between your legs. You spread out to give him easier access and he gives you a silent look of thanks. His breath is warm as it fans your cunt. 

Before you get a chance to breathe, Razor sticks his tongue and licks. It’s animalistic with no real finesse at all. He makes up for it with enthusiasm and some conclusions he’s drawn with your assistance. He sucks on your clit nearly feverish, takes it into his mouth like he did your tits minutes prior. It’s drooly and sticky and nasty in a way that makes you ashamed. You’re more ashamed because you like it, you love it really. Spit is running down, dripping down to your ass. It’s a loud slurp - a shameless, nasty hunger in how he licks up your arousal with his mouth and drenches your pussy with spit. 

His groans reverberate into you. He likes what he’s doing. The sound and touch and taste - Razor overwhelms you with all of it. There’s a tangible intensity wrapping up around you, keeping you trapped in the wolf's den. 

You don’t teach him to use his fingers. He seems to have figured it out. The pad of his middle finger draws the spit pooling along your seam before pushing itself into your tight hole. You gasp at how invasive it is at first. Razors fingers are thick and scarred and you can feel the ridges of your raised skin from healed injured when he fucks you open with them. 

It feels good. Being wanted. Being consumed voraciously and openly without any care for shame. Razor is the embodiment of raw desire and all of it- every ounce of it is being used to devour you. The descendant of wolves, the son of the forest - laid between your thighs and eating like something delicious left at an abandoned altar. 

Even clumsy, you’re turned on beyond reason. Arousal leaves you shakily pawing at him to slow down. Your voice is reduced to nothing but small whines and mewls - pleas to slow down that fall on deaf ears. 

“Razor,” Your voice is clipped “Razor, please - it’s enough. Just.” 

When he snaps out of his haze, his chin is soaked with arousal and spit. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking at you. 

“Tastes good. You taste nice.” He praises, heaving and out of breath. 

Your stomach flares up with new found lust, hands covering your face. 

“Archons, just. Come here.” 

Razor climbs up on top of you again. You cup his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on him. 

“You’re so unfair. But I can’t get angry because you’re not even doing it on purpose.”

“Sorry,” 

You shake your head, kissing the corner of his mouth. Trembling with need. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I want you inside. Want you to fill me in here, so bad, Razor.” 

His eyes widen. Your desperation must reach him this time, because he nods. innocently. You’re thankful beyond words you’re on contraceptives. At this point, you think trying to use a condom would break you down.

“You just have to put it inside. But please go slowly, okay?” 

“Go slowly…won’t hurt you.” 

Razor sits up on his knees again, drawing your waist down towards him. Before he pushes into you, he lays his cock against your sex - pushing it between messy folds. His expression morphs, his jaw tensing as the head of his cock swells and throbs against your aching clit. It slides and slips so messily, pussy clinging to his hard length. You guide his cock towards your entrance while he leans forward over you. His palms are rough as they grab your hips, hands settling up under your knees. 

You can feel his cock as he rolls his hips slowly. Your nails dig into his back, indenting the skin as you cry out. It’s thick, intrusive as he pushes into your tight little hole. Even after opening you up, there’s an ache inside as the head stretches your pussy open. The raw drag of skin on skin as Razor pushes inside of you. You can feel him with every movement, your legs wrapped around his waist tight.

Razor has always had a limited vocabulary. He likes to speak in short sentences since it’s what he does best. His speech now is a lot more developed, but he still finds it troublesome. 

It stuns you when Razor's grip tightens and he swears under his breath - a single word, long and drawn out as his cock pushes into you deeply. 

“Fuck,” 

“R-razor?” 

“Feels good…feels so good. Want…move. Please.” 

“You can move, just let me hold onto you okay?” 

Razor tucks his head against your neck before he fucks you. In one smooth motion, he pulls himself out completely before shoving himself back in. It’s as gentle as he can go, but you can practically feel him shaking above you. How his whole being urged him to fuck you llike an animal. The desperation rolls off of him in waves, his own hands gripping tighter as he slowly finds a rhythm to fuck you in. Clumsy thrust that turns into careful calculated ones as you urge him to go deeper. 

“Deep,” Razor pants against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His voice is a low growl as his hips snap up to meet the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your bed creaks each time he moves, the frame knocking against the wood “I’m deep inside you,” 

“Razor,” You sneak a hand between your bodies, clumsily toying with your clit - pleasure ruining your every thought “Harder. Give it to me harder.” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Razor gives up on trying to hold himself back. He fucks you with nearly reckless abandon, an impressive amount of strength and weight behind each thrust. His dick pushes in and out of you hard and fast in the most unromantic way. You can feel it all the way up to your throat. It makes the back of legs and and your lower half feel tingly. Your head is blank, nothing but spotted white in your vision. You blink them open to look at Razors face. 

He’s biting at his lower lip hard, focusing all of himself on his thrusts. He’s enduring it well. Your insides clench, a fluttery sensation starting to build up between your legs. You can feel it in your belly, the knot starting to untie. 

Razor is starting to feel it too him. 

“Inside so, ngh - hot.  S-something coming, going to—” 

“A little more. Gonna cum soon, Razor. Feels so good, you make me feel so good.” 

Your mindless praise makes him whimper. A soft noise that echoes through you. You repeat it over and over, in a high voice like you’d praise a puppy. Razor takes it in beautifully, trying so hard not to succumb to his own desires. He restrains despite how hard and how fast and how deep he’s fucking you. You know it’s not easy. 

“I’m gonna c-cum, Razor,” You say, at the very edge “Cum with me. It’s okay, you can let it out.” 

You cum hard. Harder than you think you ever have in your life, then you’ve ever been able to manage by yourself. The sensation hits all at once, like falling through the sky, you can feel the clouds pushed away by the weight of you coming down through. Your insides tighten and tense one last time before everything releases at once, and waves of the aftershock leave your pussy fluttering. You’re washed with pure euphoria, crying out Razor’s name as you cum. 

Razor is quick to follow you. Your own orgasm seems to drive him over the edge, and he cums deep inside. He muffles his cry by biting into your shoulder, groaning as hot seed spills into your cunt with a harsh stutter of hips. He fucks into your pussy, soft and messy before bottoming out and nearly collapsing on top of you. 

It takes you a long minute to catch your breath well enough to speak. 

You rub Razors back soothingly before you do. He lifts his head, eyes heavy as he looks at you. 

“Wow,” He says, eyes wide and blown out. You can’t help but break out into a fight of laughter “Love you…”

“I love you too, Razor.”

“Wanna do it again,” Razor says, looking at you seriously “Can I?” 

You feel a pulse of warmth through your whole body before nodding. 

“Uhm. Yes. Just give me a break first, okay?” 

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 26 (Aphrodisiac)

Blaidd x Male!reader

You sat on your bedroll near the crackling campfire as you tinkered with your materials. You sighed deeply while attempting to craft a Bloodboil Aromatic. The alluring scent of flora wafted through the air. Blaidd had been gone for some time, hunting for fresh meat. Your fingers were stained with various potions and ingredients, but there was still something missing – Land Octopus Ovaries.

You huff as you look through your bag again. You stop when you see you still have beast blood from those Monstrous dogs you had slain in Caelid. You bring the glass vial to your nose and sniff it. It almost smells the same as the ovaries. You wonder if it could serve as a substitute.

Fuck it. You pop the cork and pour the thick blood into your mortar.

As you mix the substances together, you hear rustling of leaves from the woods. Suddenly, Blaidd exits the treeline and heads over to your campfire. He's carrying a large piece of raw meat. He drops it beside the fire and gives you an exhausted smile before collapsing onto his makeshift bedroll next to yours.

"Did I miss anything?" he asks groggily.

You shake your head slightly. "Nothing much, just trying to make something," you say nonchalantly as you carefully pour the contents of the mortar into a new vial. Instead of the usual deep red color associated with Bloodboil Aromatics, the liquid inside has taken on a faint pink hue.

Blaidd raises an eyebrow and approaches you curiously. He takes the vial and uncorks it before taking a whiff. His eyes widen in realization.

"That doesn't look like any Bloodboil Aromatic I've seen before," he remarks, eyeing the unfamiliar color of the potion. "What did you use instead of the Land Octopus Ovaries?"

You shrug casually. "Just beast blood from those big doggies we fought back in Caelid," you explain. "I figured they might work since they're kinda similar, right?"

Blaidd hesitates for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Well, I suppose so... But I don't think anyone has tried using dog blood instead of octopus ovaries before. This might be interesting."

Nodding firmly, you grab the vial containing your concoction and raise it to your lips. "Only one way to find out!" you declare boldly.

Blaidd looks worried. "Are you sure? We don't know what effect this will have—"

"Too late".

You swallow the entire contents of the vial without another thought. Immediately afterward, a strange sensation begins to spread throughout your body. Warmth fills your veins, followed by an mild burning sensation that seems to radiate from every cell in your being. Sweat breaks out on your forehead as you feel like you're on fire from within.

Gasping for breath, you drop the empty vial and lie on your bedroll.

Blaidd rushes to your side, concern etched across his features. However, upon closer inspection, he realizes that rather than experiencing pain, you appear to be... enjoying yourself? With each wave of heat coursing through your body, you let out soft moans of pleasure.

Your hands stretch out towards him, desperately seeking contact. Confused yet intrigued, Blaidd tentatively allows himself to be pulled closer. Your arms wrap around his waist and pull him close.

Puzzled by your behavior, Blaidd leans in closer to get a better whiff of whatever is causing such a reaction in his mate. As he takes a deep breath, his eyes widen in surprise. That familiar scent – one that sends shivers down his spine and causes his heart to race – emanates from you. Arousal.

Somehow, in place of creating a Bloodboil Aromatic, you had managed to craft up an aphrodisiac!

As Blaidd continues to process the situation, you begin to grow impatient. Moaning louder now, you attempt to draw him even closer until your faces are mere inches apart. Your lips part slightly, begging for a taste of his mouth.

He quickly comes to the conclusion that perhaps the beast blood played a role in changing the outcome of the potion.

Frustration bubbles within you as Blaidd remains lost in thought. Unable to hold back anymore, you release a whimper, demanding his attention.

Finally, he snaps out of his daze and gazes down at you, taking in your flushed face and pleading expression. Understanding dawns on him – you need him now, more than ever.

Blaidd lowers his lips to meet yours in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Intoxicated by the potion's effects, you throw caution to the wind and devour Blaidd's lips with fervor. Your hands move restlessly beneath his armor, eager to touch bare fur.

Blaidd chuckles softly between kisses, finding your aroused state highly entertaining. Yet, despite his amusement, he cannot help but crave more contact with you.

Reluctantly pulling away from your lips, Blaidd starts to remove his armor piece by piece. Hearing your plaintive whines, he gives you a playful grin. "Patience, mate," he coos teasingly.

Eager to join him, you hastily shed your own garments to relieve yourself of the heat overtaking your body.

Stripped bare, you settle back onto the bedroll, legs spread wide open in invitation. Your hard member stands proudly erect, pulsing with desire. You can't help but give into primal instincts, letting out a series of heavy pants that echo through the campsite.

Blaidd's ears perk up at the sound, his own arousal growing stronger by the second. With swift movements, he joins you on the ground, his tail swishing excitedly behind him.

Chuckling softly, Blaidd watches as you continue to behave erratically. Could the beast blood be responsible for bringing forth these animalistic behaviors? To test his theory, he reaches out and gently strokes your belly.

The instant his hand makes contact with your skin, you arch your back and let out a mewl of delight. Your canine nature seems undeniable. You emit a low whine of approval, prompting Blaidd to continue exploring further south.

Encouraged by your response, Blaidd delves deeper into his exploration. His fingers dance across your inner thighs, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You writhe beneath his ministrations, unable to contain the building pressure within you.

It doesn't take long for his hand to brush against your twitching cock, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. Your hips buck wildly, urging him to keep touching you.

Teasingly, Blaidd wraps his large hand around your throbbing erection, squeezing gently as he begins to stroke you. The sensations send shockwaves through your body, eliciting a series of whining moans.

"Such a needy little mate," he murmurs affectionately, unable to resist leaning in for another kiss.

Fueled by the aphrodisiac, you lose control entirely. Whimpering and reaching for him, you manage to capture his head between your palms. Pulling him closer, you devour his lips once more, turning the kiss into a messy affair filled with slurping sounds and saliva.

Beneath the influence of the potion, your speech devolves into babbling, but one word rings clear amidst the chaos – "please." Over and over again, you beg for release.

Growling low in his throat, Blaidd responds to your pleas with increased vigor. His tongue delves deeper into your mouth as the pumping on your cock picks up speed.

Abruptly, Blaidd tears his lips away from yours and slithers down your torso. Without warning, his warm tongue swirls around the tip of your member, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Sucking you whole, he begins to bob his head rapidly, eliciting loud cries from your parched throat. You buck your hips into his maw.

"Mmmm... fuck... yes..." you mumble, completely overcome by the pleasure. As Blaidd works your cock, you dissolve into a mass of incomprehensible moans and mumbles. Your body temperature skyrockets due to the aphrodisiac, leaving you covered in sweat and borderline delirious.

The intensity builds within you, threatening to break the dam holding back your release. With a pitiful cry, you finally succumb to the waves of pleasure crashing over you. White hot cum shoots from your cock, filling Blaidd's waiting mouth. He opens his maw wide, allowing you to witness your semen splattering the walls of his throat.

Without missing a beat, Blaidd switches his focus to your quivering hole. He presses his tongue flat against your puckered entrance, circling it with practiced ease.

Overwhelmed by the sudden stimulation, all you can muster is a weak protest mixed with a whine. "Blaidd, wait, I... fuuuuck."

Blaidd lifts your legs over his broad furry shoulders, giving himself unfettered access to your hole. He raises your ass off the ground a bit. He presses his nose against your crevice, inhaling deeply the musky scent of your arousal.

Slathering his wet tongue over your asshole, he digs his furry snout deeper into your crack. All the while, he growls his appreciation, letting you know exactly how much he's enjoying your flavors.

"So...good," he rasps between licks. "You taste so good, my mate."

Blaidd drives his long tongue deeper inside you. Each thrust feels impossibly filthy, yet incredibly exhilarating. As he forces your body to accommodate his size, he lifts your ass higher, forcing you to balance awkwardly on your shoulder blades.

Unable to form coherent words, all you can offer in return are helpless whimpers.

After a few minutes, Blaidd withdraws from your depths and surveys his handiwork. Your hole is loosely open, glistening with wolf saliva. Even in its relaxed state, it still seems hungry for more.

Seeing how well you've taken his tongue thus far, he praises you. "Good boy, such a good, responsive mate."

With a gentle tug, Blaidd guides you back down to the ground, positioning you just right to receive his thick wolf cock. Its massive girth slaps against your now flaccid member, reminding you that there's still much more to come.

Despite your exhaustion, you find the strength to beg for more. "Please, Blaidd... I want it... please fill me up"

Blaidd teases you mercilessly, pressing the tip of his massive member against your gaping hole. Instinctively, you clench your inner muscles, trying to entice him further.

"Be patient, mate. We have all night." His words leave no room for argument, though they do little to quell your burning need. He pushes the very tip inside before retreating once more.

Frustrated by Blaidd's slow pace, you throw caution to the wind and wrap your legs around his waist, attempting to pull him deeper inside. Unfortunately, he proves too strong for your feeble efforts.

A deep rumble escapes his throat as he laughs heartily at your bold move. "So eager," he remarks playfully. "I like that." Undeterred, he continues to plunge the head of his cock in and out of your eager hole.

Finally, Blaidd decides enough is enough and slides an inch deeper inside you. The sensation sends you spiraling into another wave of ecstasy.

Growling in approval, he claims possession of your body. "Feels so good having me inside you, doesn't it?"

Unable to formulate words, you simply nod frantically, lost in the haze of desire. Satisfied by your state, Blaidd takes hold of your hips and plunges the remainder of his monstrous, canine cock into your body.

Once Blaidd bottoms out, he allows himself a moment to revel in the connection. "Mmm, perfect fit," He mutters as his furry balls nuzzle against your ass.

Instead of immediately thrusting, Blaidd opts for something slower – grinding and gyrating his cock inside you. Grabbing your hands, he pulls them around his torso, locking you in place as he sets a leisurely pace.

In the midst of your passionate coupling, Blaidd suddenly pulls out completely. Before you have time to protest, he slams back inside with a single forceful thrust.

Your cries of surprise morph into pleasured mewls at the sudden intrusion. "Shhh, there's a good mate," Blaidd whispers tenderly, knowing full well how sensitive you must still be from the potion. "Sweet boy".

Nestled within the comfort of his embrace, Blaidd resumes his measured strokes. With each powerful thrust, his heavy balls slap rhythmically against your exposed rear end.

Taking advantage of your closeness, he presses his nose into the crook of your neck, taking deep breaths filled with your scent.

Overcome by your intoxicating scent, Blaidd cannot help but comment on it. "You smell amazing, love. Maybe we should make some more of that aphrodisiac for next time." His words send a fresh surge of arousal coursing through your veins.

Urged on by your growing excitement, Blaidd picks up his pace, fucking you harder than before. His tongue darts out to trace the edge of a prominent scar adorning your neck – the mark he gave you when you both became mates. His thrusts become erratic, bordering on feral.

Wrapping his arms around you possessively, Blaidd's voice lowers to a primal growl. "Oh gods, I want to flood you with my cum so badly, mate."

Hearing these words ignites a fire within you, prompting you to beg for it. "Yes...cum in me," You mutter in a daze.

Encouraged by your words, Blaidd doubles his efforts, driven solely by primal urges. Every powerful thrust of his cock elicits a mix of squelching and squishing sounds from your ass.

As he nears climax, his knot swells dangerously close to bursting point.

Giving into his most basic impulses, Blaidd sinks his teeth into the flesh surrounding your bonding scar. You cry out as you hold him tighter. At the same time, his bloated knot forces its way past your ring of muscle with a wet pop, locking you together. Finally, he releases his load deep within you, filling every crevice with his cum. You whine as you feel his cock twitch and throb with every pump of cum.

With both of you trembling during the comedown, Blaidd cradles you gently in his arms, offering words of solace and praise. "That was incredible, mate. You took me so well... so perfectly."

You let out a content sigh. "Yeah, that was amazing," you say as you kiss the side of his muzzle.

Sensing your improved mental state, Blaidd cannot help but remark upon it. "Seems like the effects of the aphrodisiac have finally worn off, eh? Good thing too, otherwise we wouldn't be able to stop ourselves from fucking all day."

Locked together at the hips, you manage to summon a small smile. "Sounds like a plan for another night. I think I might need to write down that recipe." Your words are met with amused chuckles from Blaidd.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

[roseboysstuff]

hehe~ Bunny hybrid reader!

Leon finds him when he’s on a mission and takes him home to keep him safe. And he has to cut holes in the little bunny’s clothes for his long ears and fluffy tail :3

He finds his little bunny whimpering and humping his pillow and he gets so horny just from seeing his cute bunny boy grinding his hips on his pillow. Pulling on his sensitive ears while he pounds into his little bunny cunt ^.^

damn you weren't kidding with sending in requests this and the others are so delicious Also I'm making this where his bunny is in heat coz heats are so hot to me

Leon had brought you home, after finding you when out on a mission. Those bastards had been experimenting on you, and he felt a strange urge to protect you. He wasn't sure quite what had been done to you, if you had been born a bunny hybrid, or if they had turned you into one. But one thing was sure, he wasn't going to let them hurt his little bunny boy again. But duty called and he had to leave you at his house for a few days, promising to come back as soon as he was done. He missed you every moment he was gone. So now as he turned the doorknob, he was so happy to be back. And he was even happier to be back when he heard your moans and whimpers, seeing the bedroom door open, and your body desperately rutting into a pillow. His pillow. Your eyes opened when you heard him shut the door, and you were almost embarrassed, until you saw his smirk, his flushed face, and the very obvious tent in his pants. "Please, Leon. Need you inside me." He was more than happy to oblige your request, bending you over on the bed. Your cunt was wet with need, and having already stained the pillow you were grinding on, he knew that you needed a good pounding. Which was what he gave you. Slipping inside your waiting hole with ease, moaning as he feels you open up for him, yet still clenching tightly down. It was the perfect sensation and he let you know. He wanted to make his bunny boy feel good, while claiming you as his own. "Good boy, feels so good inside your bunny cunt" He pounded away, pulling your ears for support, pulling you back into him with them. He made sure he was gentle enough, but also rough enough to make you really feel it. Admittedly he had wanted to do this since he first brought you home, and now he was doing it. It almost felt surreal, to be pounding into your sensitive cunt while you moaned and writhed beneath him. He continued thrusting into you, pushing you further down into the mattress, while still pulling your head back with your ears. You both climaxed at the same time, him releasing his seed into your cunt with a growl, you clenching around him with a heavy whine. And as he pulled you close afterwards, he relished in the fact that your tails and ears were twitching with joy.

[impishjesters]

Jax-in-a-box

warning(s): mentioned spicy jokes/comments note(s): (In response to the request) We don't have Jack in the box around here so I actually had to google it, thought it sounded familiar lol A/N: This idea was so cute and I had so much fun writing it. It is sort of implied the reader is attached to said box, but not how. But now I am imagining them hopping around like the Pixar lamp so that’s hilarious. If you want more hc's of the reader detached from the box feel free to send in another request~ request: I'm requesting a Jax x reader (crushing and actual relationship stage if possible) where they are kinda Jack in the box theme (no not like the restaurant mascot, I was telling my friend about this idea/request and she thought I was talking about him 😭) So the reader is the tallest of the group and has long hair, similar to the rope-likeness to Ragatha’s hair and they also have very stretchy arms and can do a bunch of things with them (wrap one of them completely around a person, can reach the top of the tent etc.) The reader also likes to stay in their box most of the time since it's dark and peaceful but isn't like antisocial, likes to hang out with the others and does light hearted pranks on them (Jax included, no one is safe).

Crushing Stage

You aren’t on the same level of jackassery or prankage that Jax is, but you do have a knack for more light-hearted pranks and that’s admirable because he always gets a good laugh out of whoever you prank.

Though that’s not saying much, all of them have been subjected to a jumpscare or two by you, trying to approach you when you are in your box really is unpredictable.

Like did you not hear them or are you intentionally trying to jumpscare someone? (It’s usually the first one, the walls aren’t thick but they can muffle when someone is trying to directly talk to you.)

Actually, the first time you scared Jax it was completely unintentional. Sometimes you sort of just, blend into the scenery when your box is tucked alongside other stuff. You didn’t even know he was there when you popped out and just, scared him.

Fortunately for him, nobody else was around because the sound that left him was priceless. He hates it (affectionately) that you use that to tease him every now and then.

Another time that you startled (read: scared) him was when you were hanging off the ground, he hadn’t been aware you were quite literally hanging around until you dropped down, the box making a comically loud noise in the process. (Which is funny because that time others were around, luckily Jax didn’t scream.)

The more he gets comfortable with you the more he finds himself leaning against your box during group socializing time or even letting you wrap one of your arms around him and yoink him around (usually out of harm’s way, Caine’s games are too much sometimes)

In the fashion that “a boy tugs on a girl’s hair because he likes her”, Jax has very much tugged your hair—it’s long and there’s a lot of it so it doesn’t always get in the box when you close the top. So parts stick out and he’s definitely let that part of his brain act on the “what if I just..yank it?”

Afterward, he just does it because he likes that your attention turns directly on him. It’s never a violent tug or anything, just enough to get your eyes on him.

Dating Stage

Not too much changes when the two of you start dating. There are still pranks but the two of you are closer and whatnot.

However, there is the new addition of more risque jokes/comments, such as the comment about whether cranking the handle on your box does something. (The first joke happens whether those kinds of comments discomfort you or not, though he’ll stop if they do. But if they don’t? Oh boy, expect so many awful jokes.)

At first, he had no opinion, but he kinda likes that you’re taller than him. The only other person is Kinger and he’s usually hunched over.

He finds your stretchy arms to be both useful and entertaining, though seeing them stretch to extreme lengths kinda bugs him out. (which is ironic because he’s a stretchy toy himself)

Along with leaning against your box, now he’s more comfortable actually sitting on it, or rather the ledge of it when it’s open.

He’s definitely sat on it while it was closed before though, you may or may not have accidentally thrown him off. (he’s irritated, but honestly, he should’ve seen that coming)

On occasion when the gang is stuck playing some dumb game that he’s not really paying attention to, he’ll sit on the ledge of your box and mess with your hair. It’s similar to Ragatha’s but longer and it’s a nice time-waster just seeing what he can do with it.

Since you tend to stay in your box more than your actual room, it makes finding you at times a pain. Sometimes Jax gives up, sometimes he asks where someone saw you last, and sometimes he just yells out. The first few times it’s all fun and games but afterward, he just gets irritated, it’s like you move around just to piss him off.

For whatever reason in the beginning he never questioned how exactly you worked, you know, being in a box, or part of a box? Expect plenty of questions and the occasional attempted peek into your box to see if you have legs (maybe a spring?) or not. (he’s not trying to be dirty he’s just intrigued.)