#you do not need your physical needs met. you need holiness

[yeslordmyking]

Proverbs 17:16 — Today's Verse for Thursday, May 25, 2023

[reignpage]

Restrained Beast

in which you tie up boyfriend!Konig

warnings: 18+ mdni, rope, bondage, cursing, suffocation, size kink, power play, slight dubcon, cowgirl, missionary, spitting, primal, prey, slight dacryphillia

the universe had blessed you with a once in a lifetime gift in the form of your big and strong boyfriend finally allowing you to tie him up. it was quite ridiculous actually, wrestling him into position, straddling his bare chest as you tied a rope around his wrists, looping it through the gap in your headboard. konig was a huge man, he took up the entire expanse of your bed, and you weren’t confident the rope would hold him. 

if he wasn’t so compliant, there was no way you would have ever managed to lift even just one arm into position; it weighed a ton. he was pure muscle, carved from years of military service, crafted to be the perfect battering ram. every flex could kill, he could smother you in your sleep with his heavy torso, even step on you if he wasn’t so careful. and god, did you love it. 

he was pure strength, the perfect killer, and yet there he was, peering up at you with a light blush and a small smile. his blond chest hair was coarse under your palms as you met his stare with a grin. konig had needed a little convincing to agree to your idea; in fact, it required a lot of begging and promises that you’d make it worth his while. 

the concept of being suppressed went against every instinct in his body, but how could he say no to his beautiful girl? so cute and so sweet, politely asking with big eyes and a pout. he wanted to make you happy, always. so there he was, lying patiently, completely naked under you. he tested the rope and felt pride warming his chest (and his cock) at his angel who clearly did her research, wanting to do it right, for him. 

“schatz, ride my cock, ja?” 

said cock was pointing to the ceiling, perfectly proportionate to his gigantic stature. it was always a struggle getting him inside you; you needed a lot of foreplay, and konig was more than happy to oblige every time. he would spend hours focused on you, making you ride his thigh, fingers, and face. he worshiped your pussy like it was the holy grail, lapping at your essence as if he couldn’t get enough. 

he overstimulated you every time, but you knew he didn’t mean to, right? you knew he just had a tendency to get lost in the taste of you, your scent overwhelmed him, and oh how he loved the feeling of your plush thighs squeezing his head. and when you would pull his hair in a desperate attempt to make him stop, his eyes would roll back before pinning down your frantic hips with an arm thrown over your stomach, diving back in with greater fervour. 

you bit your lip, nodding shyly as you scooted down his body, soaking pussy grazing his stomach. it made his happy trail shine under the dim light of the bedside lamp. you loved the hair, the feeling of it tickling you, the way it was barely visible unless you were pressed right to his crotch, and you often were. 

quickly rubbing your clit, you exhaled, physically and mentally preparing yourself to take him again. no matter how many times you had played with that part of him, you never got over how intimidating his cock was. everything about him was intimidating, it was one of the reasons he rarely left your shared home; people always stared. 

clutching his cock, you lined him up with your quivering hole, gulping as you pushed down. a pleasurable burn made you hiss, head thrown back as you heaved. every inch made you fuller and fuller until you felt like you couldn’t take any more, but one glance down and you realised you weren’t even half way down. 

how was that even possible?

“all of it, maus.”

you shook your head in a panic, your fight or flight instincts triggered. 

“ja, you can take it. you always do.”

könig pulled at his restraints with more force than he had intended, rattling the bed frame. he was itching to touch you, to blanket your tits with his palm and pinch at your nipples. the man wanted to feel your skin, pull your front down against him so he could kiss you, smother your whines with his mouth and push down every protest with his tongue. 

god, he just wanted to grip your hips and pull you down till he was buried to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix in the way he knew you loved. konig had been on edge the entire time, he wasn’t used to not being in control, not like this, where he was completely helpless. 

but knowing he was at your mercy made him leak pre-cum like a faucet. 

eventually, with lots of praise and encouragement, he was in. you needed a second to adjust, to will away that burn as he stretched you to your limits, split you in half.

he might have complained when you initially brought it up, but you could tell he loved this just as much as you did if the incessant throbbing inside of you was anything to go by. his skin was cool to the touch, his sweat making it

slightly difficult to get a grip but you persevered, lifting your hips a little before letting gravity do its thing in an experimental stroke. it lit a fire inside of you and you knew you needed more. 

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“just - hah- like that, schatz.”

“fuck, liebling, so good -ngh- for me.”

his every praise and groan fuelled your thrusts and grinding, ignoring the ache of your muscles, intent only in making both of you cum. and with the way the head of his cock was pressing against that spongey spot inside of you, you weren’t going to take long. 

könig threw his head back when you lifted your hips as high up as you could before slamming down with a splat, juices flying and making both of your skin sticky. a white ring of cum was forming around his base and he would watch it dribble down all day if he could. 

your sobs were music to his ears, so breathy and uninhibited, he couldn’t believe he was making you feel that way. never thought he’d have such a good girl loving his monstrous body, obsessed with his freak of a nature stature, but there you were, a blissed out expression on your face as you held your tits in your hands, muttering his name again and again. 

like a plea thrown in the wind, you heard your name calling to you through the fog of pleasure. konig was looking up at you in the way he always did when he wanted one thing. the realisation that he wanted every part of you made you clench down on him, and you both moaned.

and of course, how could you disappoint your precious boyfriend? so you lean closer to him, breaths mingling as you teased him with a graze of your lips against his. he opened his mouth, but you couldn't help yourself; you swerved to the right and sucked at his skin, at the junction where his shoulders met his neck. he was so much bigger than you, you had to stretch to reach his chin.

he tasted salty and clean, like a glacier. he tasted like the love of your life. and you didn't think you'd ever get your fill. only his cockhead sheathed in your warm pussy; you had to climb the expanse of his body to reach you destination and when he growled your name, you knew you couldn't tease him any longer.

so with a playful scold, you gave him a love tap on his cheek, giggling at the flutter of his lashes. thumbing his plush bottom lip, you drawled, "open wide, koni baby."

and without looking away, you spat into his mouth and watched enthralled at the hasty swallow. there was no hesitation, no reluctance. only pure satisfaction as he pulled at his restraints again. it was like he had forgotten his predicament, so caught in your taste and smell, and the way your hips were swivelling around the head of his cock as you leaned back, pussy greedily swallowing his entire length once again.

you were so close, mewls getting louder and higher, whining every time your clit rubbed the hair on his pelvis just right, and pinching your nipples the way he would. he wanted to bring you there, wanted both of you to reach your high, and he couldn’t wait. no, he was desperate, needed you to move faster, to slam on his cock harder, just the way you like, the way you needed him to. 

perhaps, if either of you weren’t so caught up in the maddening hedonism, then you would heard the creaking of fibres being pulled apart. 

riding his cock wantonly, you moaned like a siren, uncaring about the neighbours who were no doubt in the middle of filing a complaint. again. and when konig jutted his hips upwards, you moaned even louder, stars sparkling behind closed eyes. you could feel him everywhere and yet it wasn't enough.

“kon, so close, ‘m so close.”

snap!

you barely registered it over the cacophony of your moans, the squeaking of the bed and the slamming of the headboard. but the big hands suddenly grasping your hips in an unforgiving grip was unmistakable, and when he lifted you up and heaved you down, a scream being rammed out of you, you knew your big bad boyfriend had broken free of his restraints. 

anyone else would have feared for their lives, having a ferocious beast be on the loose, but you barely had time to think about the terrifying glint in his eyes before he was throwing you onto your back and jackhammering into your sopping pussy like he was battering through the heaviest door. 

you were speechless, mouth hanging open in a perpetual o shape as your eyes rolled back, hands clutching at the sheets and then at his shoulders, clawing down his back. you needed to ground yourself, it was too much too fast, but you had nowhere to go, his body was pinning you down, your face buried in his chest. konig was suffocating you, chest hair tickled your face as you gasped, and he was knocking all the air out of your lungs with every merciless thrust. 

he was using your body like a flashlight, not a single regard for your pleasure or your life. it was exhilarating. only he could drag you to the edge of life and make you feel so much pleasure you forgot your name. 

“cum for me, schatz. need you to cum on my cock.”

you screamed into his chest, eyes screwed shut as waves and waves of rapture washed over you, dragging you in an undercurrent of euphoria and pure ecstasy. his lips stuttered at the feel of your cunt squeezing his cock, wringing a sudden orgasm out of him. konig roared, plunging into you with one final jab, cum pulsing out of him, painting your insides white. it burned your insides, a gasp grazing past your lips.

it was always so so so good with him. every. time. you were addicted. just as he was. now that he had a taste of what it was like to be restrained, you hoped he would want to do it again. although, you felt personally offended it didn’t last as long as you expected; he had broken free so easily, it was insulting. 

he huffed a laugh in your ear when he felt you pout. konig kissed every inch of skin he could reach whilst keeping his softening cock inside of you, a silent thank you for giving him more happiness and pleasure than he thought he deserved. 

“you need to tie it harder next time, ja, maus? make it more difficult for me.” 

damn right you’d make it more difficult for him. 

cocky austrian.

[irndad]

in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 

But he wanted her. 

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question. 

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god. 

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 

Ben, is not in fact, going away. 

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  

But her cup says Ben. 

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 

Ironic, really. 

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance? 

Wasn’t it romance, though? 

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks. 

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 

[thewalkingdilf]

OKAYYY i’ve had this idea of a perv! daryl x shy, inexperienced reader that i just cannot get out of my head.

18+ mdni, poorly written smut, not proofread, perv!daryl, large age gap (reader is early 20s), loss of innocence

this is a drabble-ish. not a completely finished work, this is more of just an idea that popped into my mind that i may create a larger work for later.

your heart is absolutely racing as daryl’s darkened eyes stare you down like you’re his prey, nothing but an easy target. he’s above you on the bed, a large hand on each side of your head, holding his weight above you. you felt trapped in the best possible way. your head felt fuzzy and your pussy was aching with desire. he knew you were a virgin, innocent and as physically pure as could be. It’s not like you hadn’t wanted to do these things before, you’d just never had the opportunity to while living in your strict, religious home. besides, you hadn’t even found anyone you had taken that strong of a liking to, no one worth throwing your innocence away for; not until daryl, anyway.

there was just something about him that you were so intrigued by that you just couldn’t quite place your finger on. maybe it was his age— how much older and stronger he was than you— or maybe it was his rough, manly, and intimidating exterior. regardless, you had never had anyone make you feel like this before.

daryl, on the other hand, couldn’t help but be attracted to your innocence; you were so different from him, and in a world like this, he needed that, almost just as much as he needed to mold you into a perfect little toy for him like he had been fantasizing about since he’d met you.

“daryl,” you cry out pathetically as one of his hands come down to touch your sopping wet pussy for the first time, causing a fire to burn within your core. He felt his jeans tighten; your reaction to the slightest touch was already on the verge of being over the top. i mean, he barely touched you and you were practically drooling for him just like your aching cunt was. how in the hell were you going to handle his fingers, let alone his cock?

“sorry,” you mutter, embarrassed of your intense reaction, “i’ve just never done anything… ya’ know, like this before…” your soft voice trailed off, your big doe eyes staring up at him, “feels really good.”

daryl smirks, collecting your slick on his fingers, moving up to rub tiny circles on your puffy clit, “nothin’ at all? surely ya touch yourself, right darlin?” he questioned, pausing all movement, awaiting your response.

a deep blush covered your already hot cheeks at the admission of your already obvious innocence to the older man, “well, i mean, i tried before, but i dunno how to do it, it just felt weird. couldn’t make it feel good so i gave up.”

fuck. you were more innocent than he thought. not only are you a virgin, you’d never even came before? he was going to have so much fun with you.

“holy shit,” daryl muttered, “pretty thing like you has never felt an orgasm?”

“…no.”

his cock strained against his jeans so hard he could’ve sworn he was seeing stars for a moment. the last remaining traces of his once icy-blue orbs disappeared, deep black taking over as he gazed down at you, like a predator hunting his prey, hovering above you in a straddle, one knee between your legs, the other on the opposing side. “fuck, sunshine, you’re gon love this. promise.”

daryl’s finger returned to your clit, working itself in circles a bit faster than before, the new sensation causing you to arch your back and whine, your pussy clenching around nothing, causing a string of your arousal to drip down your plush thigh.

“ahh, fuck! fuck daryl, pleaseeee.”

“please what?” he teased, continuing his pace, watching you completely fall apart beneath him.

please what? that was a great question, you had no idea what you were begging for, you just knew that whatever he was doing was way too good for him to stop now.

a large, calloused hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to meet daryl’s lust-blown eyes, “i said please what? don’t ya’ wanna be a good doll and answer me so i can help ya’ out? c’mon pretty girl, just tell me whatcha need and i’ll take care’a you.”

“i-i dunno… i-” you felt embarrassed out of nowhere, like the feeling had just popped out of thin air. you cover your face with your arms, a bright pink wave creeping along your cheeks once again, spreading to the tips of your ears. you knew nothing about this, didn’t know what you wanted, what to ask for— you just knew you needed daryl to keep doing whatever it was that was making you feel so fucking good.

you felt the strength of daryl’s large arms gripping your dainty wrists, pushing them away from your face and onto the bed, holding them there with a force you knew you wouldn’t be able to escape from.

“ah, ah, ah, c’mon now, sunshine. keep those hands away from that pretty face of yers. you know i wanna see all those pretty looks my doll gives me while i make her cum ‘round my cock.”

[lordprettyflackotara]

get him back! || sam golbach

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: revenge sex, marking, choking

You were the finest woman Sam had ever seen.

Being in the influencer space meant meeting a lot of people. Most of them forgettable. But you? Your eyes were sparkling with diamonds, full of life. Your lips were glossy and soft, always curved upwards in a big grin. Sam could remember the first time you two had met, that being a few years prior at a music festival. You both didn’t have too long to speak, both of you too busy to comprehend. You did take a picture with him though, the image sending the internet into a frenzy. Even now he’d look at it and regret not shooting his shot. You were in your own lane, your clothing line producing so much revenue that you were now starting a make up branch as well. You were everything Sam could possibly want: ambitious, enchantingly beautiful, witty, and just as goofy as he was.

Sam thought he had lost his chance. You began dating another influencer, the two of you together for years. The blonde stared over the rim of his red solo cup, admiring you from a far. But your relationship tragically crashed and burned a couple of weeks ago, igniting a spark of excitement in his chest. He watched as you danced with your friends, still maintaining your signature smile. His chance was now and he had zero intentions of fucking up this time.

Sam was thankful that Colby was off actually mingling, because Sam’s needs and wants were scrambled. Realistically he needed to be mingling with potential business partners or creators to collab with. But he convinced himself that pursuing you technically fit into that category. Even if you were just one person in a big party. He slithered through the sea of dancing bodies, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. You turned around, a red solo cup in your hand. You smiled at the sight of Sam, beginning to greet him. Just as you did so you were roughly shoved, causing you to be pushed into him. You cringed in horror at the sight of your liquor staining Sam’s white button up.

“Holy fuck i’m so sorry,” You rambled, desperately searching for a napkin. Sam chuckled as the cool liquid soaked against his chest. “It’s fine really,” He said cooly. You were failing to find any sort of napkin. “It’s going to stain if we don’t clean it, come on,” You say, grabbing his hand. Sam tried to remain as cool as a cucumber as you dragged him to the staircase. He wasn’t sure how good he was doing, pretending to be unfazed and not jittery like he was on the inside. Your heels clicked against the wooden stairs as you hauled up to the closest bathroom. Out of the corner of his eye Sam swore he thought he saw camera flashes pointing in both of your guys direction, eventually dismissing it as him being a few shots deep. You found an empty bathroom, grabbing the towel from the towel rack. It was pure white, similar to Sam’s shirt. “It’s alright you’re gonna stain the towel,” The blonde said, trying to convince you.

If he was being truthful he was so glad someone bumped into you. It gave him the perfect opportunity to be alone with you. “Fuck the towel, i’m sure it’s owner can afford many more just like it,” You grumbled. You felt guilty about tarnishing Sam’s shirt, the pigment staining the fabric. “I really am sorry,” You repeated. Sam slowly grabbed your wrist, guiding you to stop. “Seriously it’s fine. Adds character to the outfit I think,” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. Your cheeks were flushed from embarrassment and intoxication, your lips in a thin line. You were determined to fix his shirt, even if it were physically impossible. Sam propped himself up against the bathroom counter, watching you meticulously try to dab away the stain. “So, I haven’t seen you in a while. How have things been?” He asked, trying to switch the subject. Anything he could say or do to keep you around longer he would. Your eyebrows knitted as you avoided his intimidating gaze. “Oh cmon, you can ask me about it,” You say. Sam raised an eyebrow of his own, admiring your beauty.

“Ask what?”

You rolled your eyes sassily, grabbing the bathroom door and shutting it. “About my breakup? It’s all anyone can ask me about anymore. As if I didn’t exist before him,” You grumbled sourly. Sam had to make a quick decision, one that would result in you staying in that tiny bathroom with him. “I didn’t even know you were dating someone,” Sam lied. He noticed your lips curl up into a half smile. Even if it was a lie, you were happy someone wasn’t shoving you in the same box with your ex. “Believe it or not that’s the best thing i’ve heard all night. He was quite the dickhead,” You explained. You ran the washcloth under some water, before resuming your assault on the stain. Sam felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, causing him to glance at it. “Oh shit,” He mumbled. Someone had in fact taken a video of the two of you heading upstairs. Your gaze fell on his phone, the video circulating around twitter.

“It looks like we’re going to fuck,” You mumbled. You refrained from physically face palming, opting to sigh instead. “I can clear things up if you want, I don’t wanna cause trouble for you and your ex,” Sam started, beginning to craft a tweet. At the sound of his words your eyes lit up, a light bulb turning on over your head. “You’re a genius!” You gasped, causing Sam to stop typing. He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. “My ex is a literal scumbag. If it looks like i’ve already moved on it’ll be the perfect revenge,” You explained. Sam erased his tweet, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He found his heart racing as you both stood so close to one another. “You know we could make it look more real, if you wanted to,” Sam offered. The words left his lips effortlessly, the blonde trying to refrain from blushing. The room suddenly became full of nervousness, heat rising to your own cheeks.

“How do you propose we do that?”

“Hickies are kind of a statement.”

There was a pregnant pause, one that made Sam suddenly feel uneasy. “Thats if you want to of course i’d absolutely never try to pressure you or anything-” He rambled, your giggling making him pause. You playfully hit his arm, tossing the rag aside. “Yeah yeah yeah, you modest gentleman. Now turn your head,” You giggled. Sam could feel that he was visibly flustered, the blonde tilting his head to the side. He sat on the cool marble counter, man spreading to allow you access to his skin. You stood in between his legs, your heels providing you just enough height to reach his neck. Logic told you to question giving hickies to a practical stranger in a random bathroom. Yet as you hovered over his skin you could see him swallow nervously, it made you more flustered than you would’ve liked to admit. You kissed his neck softly at first, before gently beginning to suck on the skin. Sam closed his eyes, trying his hardest to control his impending boner.

He wasn’t sure how far you wanted to go with this. He bit his bottom lip, trying his hardest to not get hard as you littered his neck with blues and purples. Sam realized it was too late once you released his skin with a pop, both of your gazes falling onto his visible boner. Your curious eyes met his.

“My turn?”

“Your turn.”

Sam wanted to make you just as flustered as you made him. He jumped off of the counter, pressing your back against the bathroom door. You gasped under his warm touch, melting under him as he tilted your head to the side. He placed soft kisses up your neck, before finally finding your sweet spot. He sucked harshly at the sensitive skin, noting the way your hands grabbed at his shirt to balance yourself. Sam could feel the way you were shaking under his touch, his teeth grazing your skin. He moved onto the next section, wedging his knee in between your legs. It was then as he reattached his mouth to your skin, he heard you whimper. Sam froze, before lifting his knee higher to see what you would do. He felt sheer delight as you whimpered again, this time his name falling off of your lips. Sam grinned into your skin, noting the way you melted as his large hands grabbed your waist.

“You seem like you haven’t been pleased properly in a long time if you’re wet from this,” Sam chuckled. You couldn’t deny how flustered you felt, but refused to cave in so easily. “I’m not wet,” You denied. Sam lifted up your dress in a swift motion, cupping your cunt. You were soaked through your panties. “If this isn’t you wet i’d love to see what that actually looks like,” Sam purred. You whined as he applied pressure over your clothed clit. “If we do this I don’t want any strings attached. No emotional bullshit,” You say, feeling breathless as Sam began to rub your slit properly. Sam grinned as he leaned back, meeting your flustered gaze. “No emotional bullshit guaranteed. Just pray you don’t fall in love with me,” He gloated. You rolled your eyes as he flipped you around, positioning you to lean over the bathroom sink. “Yeah right, I don’t do love anymore,” You countered. Sam grinded against you, causing you to whine in desperation.

“You will by the time i’m done with you,” He quipped. He pulled your panties down, grinning at the sight of your soaked folds. “Jesus baby, do you even need foreplay? You’re so wet for me and i’ve barely touched you,” Sam murmured to himself. He brought one hand around to your clit, rubbing circles around the bud as he undid his pants. He wanted to savor the moment really, but he couldn’t imagine this going more perfectly than it was. “I’m not that wet,” You argued weakly. You didn’t even know what you were really arguing for, your body tattle telling on your lies. Sam brought his cock to your aching slick, rubbing it up and down your folds. “Oh really? So I won’t be able to slide right in or anything, right?” He asked sarcastically. You gripped the sides of the sink as he pushed himself inside of you, your walls eagerly accepting him. He bit his bottom lip as he glanced up at you in the mirror. Your face was flushed, your beautiful lips parted as you struggled to maintain any form of composure.

“Something tells me you haven’t had a good fuck in a long time,” Sam concluded, bottoming out. His fingers continued to work on your clit as his cock brushed against your g spot. “Perhaps you’re right,” You admitted lowly. Sam wrapped his arm around you, grabbing your throat. His slender fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing the skin as he forced you to arch your back. “I say we change that, hmm?” He asked teasingly. It was then he began to move his hips, the sound of skin against skin and unholy moans clouding up the room. Sam watched in the mirror as your eyes glazed over with lust with each thrust. Through his fingers he was able to admire the hickies he had littered on your skin, as well as the ones on his own. His thrust were fast and deep, abusing your cunt the way he knew you needed. Strings of curses left your lips, the blonde delivering a sharp slap to your ass. You gasped at the stinging sensation, the pain colliding with pleasure. “Moan my name baby, let everyone know who’s making you feel so good,” He ordered.

Sam relished in the sound of your obedience, his name falling off of your lips like a mantra. If the video and hickies didn’t seal your revenge, your shameless moans did. Sam didn’t stop his circles around your clit or his thrust, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you both approached your highs. “So fuckin tight,” Sam grunted. He squeezed your throat, restricting your airway. You felt hopelessly light headed as he pounded into you, your knees threatening to give out. “You can take it baby, I know you can. So good for me,” Sam purred. He nibbled on your earlobe as he pinched your clit, causing your orgasm to crash down over you. His strong hands kept you upright as you touched euphoria, your senses temporarily blinded. “Where do you want me baby?” Sam asked, his voice rough as he fucked you through your orgasm. You were breathless as you tried to get your vision to settle. “My mouth, let me taste you,” You panted.

Sam was quick to force you to your knees. Your knees roughly hit the tiled floor as your tongue flattened out across your bottom lip. You stared up at Sam as he jerked his cock, your name falling off of his lips as he painted your tongue white. His salty cum was warm and tasty, Sam watching in pure awe as you swallowed it. You attached your lips to his tip, ensuring to suck him clean. “You dirty bitch,” Sam groaned, tilting his head back. He leaned against the wall for support as you overstimulated him. When you finally released him with a pop the two of you shared a loving gaze. He kneeled down to your level, tilting your head to the side. A patch of unmarked skin stuck out to him.

“Looks like I missed a spot, let me fix that for you.”

[haedgaf]

that part where he helped mc on the rink and taught her how to ice skate…. or when he got injured and only cried when he was w mc… why don’t we all just die 😭😭😭😭 this 10/10 fic like omfgggg

ice ice baby- lee donghyuck

info: donghyuck x reader, hockey player!donghyuck, manager!reader, college au, enemies to lovers (gender neutral reader)

wc: 12.1k 

warnings: cursing, suggestive content (some hate making out), there’s an injury described but it’s not serious and it’s not graphic

(a/n: this took me way longer than i had anticipated due to writers block but i hope everyone enjoys it! also i am a very casual fan of hockey and i tried to do research on hockey especially ncaa hockey to make this realistic but this fic takes a lot of liberties with specific hockey rules/practices)

Donghyuck Lee is the extremely well-known ace of your university’s hockey team. The proclaimed prodigy, who waltzes through life with a seemingly unmatched level of confidence and ease. Admittedly very attractive and apparently equally talented at hockey, it was no surprise that he was practically a celebrity on campus and given infuriatingly special treatment throughout the school.

Hockey is a big deal at your university, even though you’ve never gotten the hype or attended a game, you still knew of many of the players and the typical rumors and whispers that surrounded them- all of which almost always included Donghyuck.

Donghyuck has a bit of a reputation that you had always looked upon with slight annoyance and then continued to totally ignore. You just assumed he was the typical jock with an over-inflated ego, whose every move was unjustifiably swooned over and praised. 

You never really gave hockey, Donghyuck Lee, or the spectacle he and others made out of himself and his talent, much thought- until you need a job. 

Keep reading

[nicolesainz]

“Written mine on my upper thigh” LN4

Lando Norris x f!reader

Author’s note: My comeback story HAD to be about the winner of the Dutch Grand Prix (by 22 seconds) and @freedaxf1 ‘s husband!! I present to you, possessive Lando Norris

Summary: Lando and you have been having an on and off relationship since your teenage years. While he lives his life in England, you’re back home trying to move on but everything seems impossible. What happens when Lando finally tracks the continues cycle?

Warnings: inaccuracies about Lando’s job and birthday, sexual themes, minors dni, 18+, nicknames, oral sex!

His eyes had been glued to my body for the better part of the night. I must admit mine were doing the exact same, given with how good he was looking. In all the years we have known each other this was one of the times where I have caught myself thinking “I will never share him with anyone. He is mine.”

I had come to London for a play with my friend group and we all decide to collectively separate our schedules and explore the city. In my case, I had been desperate enough to let someone else explore me. I knew that if I spent another month without his touch, I would need to buy a third vibrator.

As I was walking into the fourth bookstore of the day, trying to find as many new romance novels as possible, thankful I decided to pack very lightly, and my luggage had some extra space. It was at the very moment when my fingers laid on Shakespeare’s “Othello” when a raspy British voice tingled my entire body, “No surprise finding you looking at England’s most profound litterateur work.”

I turned around to be met with the most crystal blue eyes I had ever encountered in my life. They also happened to be the eyes of the man that drove me insane for most of my teenage years and fell in love with. I also was not surprised when I caught him licking his lips as he was staring into mine. Usually what that meant in both our minds was “Yours or mine?”

“I am starting to believe you have put a tracker on me given I can’t hide from you.”

“You will never find it sweetheart. I am better at hiding than you will ever be.”

“Now that you mentioned it, a certain pair of panties has me feeling uneasy every time I wear them on dates, maybe that’s your hiding spot.”

“Probably shouldn’t have worn them whilst you were with me. Or even when you weren’t with me, since it’s a sign that I have marked them as mine.”

“A tracker was unnecessary. The universe has sided with you, knowing all my dates were major failures.”

“I won’t lie to you, so I can’t say I am sorry for you baby. After all, I hardly doubt you reached a point with those poor fellas where you screamed their name as loud as you did mine.”

This probably would be an ideal time for him but very unfortunate time for me to admit that I once misnamed one of my dates and used his name instead. And an even more annoying fact that he was right about was that I had never reached a point with any of those guys to moan their names, or even let them touch me.

The past 3 months I hadn’t allowed myself to get physical with anyone else but him. Everyone was slowly starting to wonder why my visits to London were becoming more and more regular. As the months were going by quite fast, the use of my vibrator was becoming an even more usual habit. The moment I die I know there’s a place for me in hell, with the amount of times I have surrendered myself to the captivating voice of this Englishman, making the most unholy thoughts about his tongue and fingers touching the most inappropriate parts of my body, as I slide in my vibrator, imagining his insanely powerful body thumping against mine, groaning and moaning his name louder than a holy prayer.

“What brings you around my place this time? Missed my cock so much couldn’t get enough of it?”

“Friend group getaway if you so badly want to know. And trust me if I wanted to fuck you so much with one single call, I could have made you travel back home and wreck me, like the good obedient boy you are.”

“I think you are mistaking me for you darling. I don’t remember being the one who came knocking on one’s door begging for a night of pleasure. Or the one who screamed the other’s name so loud they lost their voice the next day and wanted to be fucked in front of a mirror so they could see how well I fit inside of them.”

I absolutely hate it how he knows exactly which buttons to push in order to play with my brain. Well, you’re the one who lets him so, it’s more your fault, not his. Although I absolutely love it when he pushes those buttons during sex.

I will never admit to his face that he is the best sex I have ever had. He doesn’t need to know that his ego doesn’t need more boost. Ever since I last saw him, he has changed massively. His hair has turned into a darker shade, the fuzziness in his hair has been replaced by a regular curly cut and only a few strands can be seen from the excess of his beanie. He probably has grown a few inches as well, hopefully his cock has as well.

“Say, how did you find me? If you are stalking me, I should get restraining orders now.”

“Happy coincidence. I was looking for new law books about school. And also, a gift for your birthday.”

My heart stopped when he said he was looking a gift for my birthday. I sent him a month ago for his own birthday a scrap book from my last visit in London with pictures we took of each other of the different sights we visited, maybe a few sneaky ones in bed as well.

“You know you don’t have to buy me anything. A text or a call is more than enough.”

“I know, my love, but nonetheless I had to get you something. Thought it was better than anything else.”

“Surely not better than being with you or hearing your voice.”

After I managed to escape from his eyesight, I went back to my room to get changed for the night out me and the guys were about to have. We mutually agreed not to pull an all-nighter so we would be in time tomorrow for the play. With the chilly weather I was met today, I decided that along with my tight dark blue dress, a pair of see-through leggings would be more than ideal. I was on a call with the girls and as I was applying my red lipstick, a message popped up on my screen.

“Try not to catch a cold tonight babe.”

Such small messages declaring his love for me were everything I was asking for in a man and I am thankful they are parts of him. We weren’t in a proper relationship but to the people that didn’t know me very well like my friends, I was always saying “Oh I have a boyfriend, but he lives in the UK”, because he indeed was the closest things I had to one.

When I finally found the location of the club, I managed to easily spot my friends, and I was greeted with many drinks to pick from. Alcohol heaven for sure. I decided to refrain from drinking over 2 glasses so I could enjoy their company more sober than drunk and in case I needed to carry anyone back to their hotels.

After 2 hours all the girls found themselves dancing on the main floor to a remix of Jason Derulo and Lady Gaga, the dirtier the better. All the lights were flashing on our bodies and every man around us was raising their glasses to the way we were dancing. One certain man though wasn’t very pleased with the way I was dancing.

My vision was slightly blurry, but I could tell from the facial expression and the crossed arms that his blood was boiling and the more I was shaking my ass, the more he was ready to throw hands to the other men that were drooling over me and then grab me from the waist and drag me out of the club. I slowly stopped and was about to go sit down with the boys of my friend group, when I felt a sudden arm forcing me away from the couch.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Or were you not thinking at all?” his voice has risen an octave higher than the music and had shaken me to my core. He has never yelled at me.

“I was just dancing. There’s no need to yell at me.”

“Almost 50 men were one step away from getting on the dance floor and laying their hands on you. Do you call that ‘just dancing’?”

“I wasn’t dancing alone, and I wasn’t the only one dancing in that manner.”

“Do you think I care what the other girls do?”

“I still don’t get where all this possessiveness comes from? I get that we have a good time together, I love you and you love me, but we aren’t in a relationship. You don’t own me. I can do whatever I want.”

“You do whatever you want and yet you let me play with you whenever you’re near me. You never stop me. You haven’t slept with other men since we last met and you always talk about how much you are missing me. I only talk about you to my friends, and I refuse to go on dates knowing you’re in another country saving yourself. So, forgive me if I care about you even though I am not your boyfriend.”

As much as it pains me sometimes to admit, I would give anything for him to be my boyfriend. He is the only man I trust with my heart and body. I hadn’t fallen in love with another man ever since we first kissed back when I turned 18. So yes, I can complain as much as I want.

“Feeling better now? I have stopped dancing, and I will go home to wear my nun costume so no man in sight sees any possible skin from my body. Will this please you? Or should I cover my face as well?”

“What would please me is if I had you every day close to my body, wrapped inside my arms, kissing your every inch day and night, claim you as mine forever but god forbid, we are ever in the same place for at least 2 weeks.”

I do not hold back, and I grab his face into my palms and kiss him fiercely. Every time we kiss, I get more and more intoxicated. I am being drugged by the best possible addictive poison. My heart is filled to the very top and I do not desire anything else more in this world that having him kissing me until my breath is cut short.

His tongue dances with mine and the feeling of vodka mixed with gin burns my throat in a pleasing way. I can feel my lipstick being smudged all over his face and as my hands are wrapped around his neck, my leg finds its way around his waist to pull him closer to my body. Everything betrays his power on me as I can feel him growing against me and moaning softly.

“Not here. I need you all for myself. Where are you staying?”

In just a few minutes I find myself slammed against the shower wall, with the water covering both our bodies, extending the heat. His lips found their way on my neck and his fingers are playing with my hardened nipples. My mouth can’t possibly contain the ungodly moans that he is producing and fuck him nothing can ever top this.

“Say once more than you aren’t mine and I will stop being gentle with you.”

“I am so yours. No other man kisses me the way you do. No other man touches me the way you do.”

“No sweetheart, no other man is allowed to touch you. Get it?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Words barely are being phrased properly as I scream in pleasure when he softly bites my nipple after having bitted my collarbone. I have come to terms with the fact that I love it when he is biting me. It’s his way of showing that he loves me. I literally have no control of my body the moment he lays his kisses on me. Its absolutely beautiful.

“I love no one else but you. Oh, how I adore you.” I manage to mumble through the groans.

“What an angel you are. From the moment I met you I knew I was done. Oh, you are never leaving my grasp.”

“Then don’t make me leave. I can be yours, I am yours.”

He then proceeds to fall on his knees, so he can be met with my womanhood as he raised my leg over his shoulder for better view.

“Facetiming you will never compare to the real deal. Oh, my beauty.” And my hands instantly grab against his hair and pull then tightly as his tongue is toying with my wet core. Every inch of my body is trembling and I can’t physically stop moaning his name that by now even the neighbours are well aware of his existence.

“Be mine. Be mine forever. I will give you anything, all I want in return is you.”

“Don’t stop. Oh, I missed you. You take care of me better than anyone else.”

“I can’t go another 3 months without seeing you. Stay with me.”

“I love you but oh my, you know I can’t.”

“Be my girlfriend. Please let me be yours. Let me claim you as mine. Let me take care of you for the rest of your life.”

I look down on him as his lips detach from myself and the cold breeze of the shower hits me with an open mouth from the shock he just caused. I never in my life thought he would ask me to be his girlfriend. It made my heart shutter when I couldn’t have him years ago and now that I am given the chance, everything restored. All I could possibly ask for.

“You probably found the best timing in the world to ask me such question. At my most vulnerable.”

“Want me to ask you after I am finished eating you up darling?”

“I mean, no, my answer would be the very same.”

“Which is? Care to share with an impatient man?”

“A million times yes. Do you think I have spent all this money in visiting you for you to ask me that question and then say no? I would have been insane.”

“You kind of are insane.”

“Excuse me?”

“You go insane every time we kiss and then you drive me insane so we are even.”

“Insane boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Surely the perfect match.”

[llamagoddessofficial]

A (late) birthday present for the coolest lady in the universe, @aka-indulgence , featuring her two favourite omnics. Because if anyone on this earth deserves to be squashed between two handsome robots, its her

---

“Human.” Zenyatta’s voice was... different.

You blinked, pulled out of your reverie. Ugh, you had just managed to stop thinking about how cold the monastery floor was under your butt. The omnics around you were meditating, as they often were; unimpeded by heat or cold, they sat dressed in only loose Shambali robes with their meditation balls floating effortlessly in front of them, utterly impervious to the snow piling onto the monastery roof above them or the icy chills that occasionally swept through the wide stone rooms.

Not like you. Even wrapped up in the only hoodie and coat you had bought with you, you were freezing.

You looked over at Zenyatta, sat right beside you, as he often was. Your knees were almost touching. Mondatta often joked that the two of you were ‘partners in crime’, a moniker that you were more than happy to adopt. Though out of the two of you, Zenyatta was by far the most criminal. 

Zen’s voice... it had a lilt to it you hadn’t heard before. Something almost careful - like he was worried about how you’d react to his words.

“Yeah?” He was actually sitting, too. Not just floating a few inches above the ground. He was looking right at you, cute head turned a little to the side. His constant expression was as sweet and gentle as ever, regardless of how he really felt.

“Are you alright?” 

Your brows furrowed. “O-of course?”

“You’re shaking.” He moved his hands from upturned in his lap, to flat on his knees. “You have been, for several minutes.”

You always appreciated how much Zenyatta emphasised his physical movements. It almost felt like he was doing it specifically to make life easier for you; he was always nodding, gesticulating with his hands, letting out affirmative hums and sighs, anything that would clue you in to his current thoughts. As if pantomiming human expressions for your benefit.

“I’m sorry. Is it making it hard for you to concentrate on meditating?”

“You’re cold. Aren’t you?”

You were embarrassed. Everyone around you at that moment literally didn’t feel the cold. The Shambali Monastery accepted human visitors throughout the year, but in winter, hardly anyone wanted to make the trek - and you were currently the only human in the entire building.

“A-a little.”

...

Zenyatta slumped. “We forgot you get cold. It’s the middle of winter in a mountain monastery. How could we forget you would get cold?”

You let out a tiny laugh. “I’m ok. Really.” 

A deep and reverberated voice, right behind you. 

“You’re cold?”

You jumped, at the sound. Holy shit Ramattra was literally just in the spot directly behind you. You looked over your shoulder at him - he was sitting cross legged, casual, as if he had been there the whole time. He definitely hadn’t been there when you sat down earlier. How did he move so quietly, when he was so huge? Those dark eye slits were watching you so very intently.

“H-how did you...?”

“You are.” Ramattra didn’t let up. He leant forward, it felt as if he was staring into your soul. “You’re quivering.”

His tone made you shudder. Even though Ramattra spoke far more softly with you now than he initially did when you first met, it was still often hard to tell whether or not he was upset. He definitely didn't make the same effort Zenyatta did to show you how he felt. “You surprised me.”

“Human,” Zenyatta’s voice was delicate. “Do you need to take a break?”

“I-I’m good.” You forced yourself to smile despite the two omnics insistently closing in on you. “I mean... yes, I am cold. But it’s just temperature. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I really think you should take a break.” He sounded insistent.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Zenyatta turned to look at Ramattra. They held eye contact.

... Zenyatta nodded.

When Ramattra stood up, you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he was just going to find a new spot. He stepped forward, probably to go past you.

... He leant down and picked you up. 

You yelped, suddenly snapped out of your cold-induced stupor, as you were swept clear off the ground by arms that clearly carried you with absolutely zero effort - he scooped you up like you weighed about as much as an empty cardboard box, hefting you up into a secure grip against his massive chest and beginning to walk. Zenyatta stood too.

If it were anyone else you would’ve started kicking your legs, shouting, freaking out. But it was Ramattra. It really wasn’t fair that you had two omnics here that you were crushing on... you absolutely couldn’t move, your body had seized up, flustered beyond belief. Your face and ears were pounding, so you just immediately clung onto him.

“P-put me down!” you squeaked.

His response was a chuckle. He moved so fluidly, so casually, carrying you out of the main room. “This is your own fault, human. We gave you a chance to take a break willingly.”

Your heart was hammering. “That doesn’t mean you can just - ”

“This isn’t a conversation.”

Ramattra eventually came to a room you recognised - your room. Considering you were one of very few members of the monastery that actually needed to sleep, you had been given somewhere private to rest your head whenever required. Ramattra pushed the door open with his foot, allowing it to swing shut behind him.

“O-ok, I get it, I need to rest.” You felt dizzy. “Put me down now.”

“Hm... no.” Ramattra sat, still holding you tightly. “I don’t think I will.”

“Huh? G-get - ”

That’s when you felt it, bleeding through your clothes. Warmth. Instinctively, you inhaled - Ramattra was hot to the touch. Heat was emanating from within the very metal he was made of. Every part of him was hot, like a hot water bottle, it was as if you’d stumbled in from an icy storm and come home to an open fire. You immediately stopped flapping and just curled into him.

“You’re so warm?” you blurted.

“Omnics can raise and lower their body temperature at will." He settled, seemingly getting comfortable. "Now relax. No need to be foolish.”

Zenyatta re-appeared, closing your room door behind you. He was holding something. By the time you figured out what it was, it was already being tucked around you; a thick down blanket.

Woah. Going from freezing to this was amazing. Tingles spread across your back and chest... you let out a shaky sigh of delight. 

You didn’t catch the look that Ramattra and Zenyatta cast between each other. 

“Human,” Zenyatta hummed, sitting down beside Ramattra. “might I have your hands, for a moment?”

You were confused, but absolutely utterly pacified by the heat, you offered your palms to him. Zenyatta reached out, and wrapped his metal digits carefully around your distinctly soft and fleshy ones. 

... They were hot too - you gasped. You felt Ramattra’s chuckle through his chest. It was like your very own personalised hand warmers, how long had the two of them been able to do this? Heating their bodies? Zen’s hands immediately flushed out the horrible numbness you’d grown accustomed to over the course of the day. 

Everything was warm... finally, you were warm. Inside and out.

Your head rocked, cuddling against Ramattra’s chest. You couldn’t help but hum in delight.

“Is that better?” Zenyatta brushed his thumbs over your knuckles, but eventually let your hands go. Entire body sufficiently restored to a comfortable temperature, you could do nothing but enjoy the sensation. 

“Mhm,” your response was grumbly and relaxed and tiny, face against Ram’s sternum, feeling the warmth leaking into your skin. One large hand gave you a gentle squeeze.

Ramattra’s tone was the softest you’d ever heard it. “Am I forgiven for kidnapping you?”

“I guess.”

“I have spoken to Master Mondatta.” Zenyatta said. “Someone else will take care of your chores today.”

... Huh? Your eyes suddenly opened (you hadn’t even noticed you’d shut them), you sat up. “W-wait. I can’t just bunk off,”

Ramattra’s grip, though gentle, was ironclad. “We insist.”

“But that’s so rude!” 

Ramattra was having none of it. He pulled the blanket tighter around you, restricting your movements and preventing you from wiggling free. “No struggling. You’re staying right here.”

“It’s a matter of your health.” Zenyatta pointed at you disapprovingly. “And you have no right to fight it. You brought this upon yourself - you delayed in informing us of your discomfort. We must make sure you are adequately warm for the rest of the day. Frostbite is a very real concern for you, at this altitude.”

“You’re not letting me go?”

“Absolutely not,” Ramattra hummed.

You exhaled through your nose, like a sulking child, but said nothing. 

Zenyatta sounded softer, now, less like he was lecturing you and somewhat more imploring. “I only wish you’d mentioned how cold you were sooner. Most omnics have the ability to warm their core. I could have assisted. Though Brother Ramattra is most likely best for warming you up, considering he possesses more body to warm you with.”

“You are indeed very small,” Ramattra tutted.

You let out a tiny laugh, much to the delight of the two omnics, but the laugh quickly morphed into a yawn. You shivered one more time, but not because you were cold - it felt more like your body was shaking away the last vestiges of cold that’d clung to you through the day. 

With that, your entire being was toasty from the inside out. If you could purr, you would.

You made a contented and comfortable humming sound, relaxing back against Ramattra’s huge chest. Again, you didn’t catch the look they shot between each other. The two omnics knew each other well enough for the slightest glances to say more than hours of conversation could.

“Tired?” Zenyatta asked, gently.

“A... a little.” Your eyes felt heavy. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Because of the cold?”

“Mhm.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “I’m sure Brother Ramattra would be happy to accompany you to bed tonight.”

Ram snapped. “Quiet.”

“... Would you? To keep me warm?” From Ramattra’s chest, you could just about peek up and make ‘eye contact’ with him. “I’d like that a lot.”

Ramattra, strangely, didn’t reply. He just stared down at you, for a few moments, then looked away - lifting his hand to his mouth like he was covering it.

Zenyatta spoke up. “Of course. Either of us would accompany you, if it would make you more comfortable during the night.”

“Both would be nice,” you mumbled.

You were so sleepy now. You yawned one more time. Maybe... maybe you could just skip your chores after all. Mondatta said it was fine, right? You were so tired. And so warm. No one was really checking... you had permission. And two bodyguards to keep you safe. Maybe you should just...

... A few minutes of complete warm bliss passed.

Ramattra’s voice thrummed through you. “... She really is like a little kitten, isn’t she?”

“Indeed. I told you.”

“Did her shaking not bother you? It was adorable. In an infuriating manner.”

“Of course it did. My motors ache from restraining myself. But unlike you, I know to keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Tch.”

“Hm?” you hummed, not at all catching what was being said.

“Nothing.” Ram hummed. “Go to sleep.”

“Mh. Ok.”

[thrashkink-coven]

Genuine Red Flags in Spiritual Books, Grimoires, Occult Teachers or Mentors

Very often I see folks talking about things they consider to be red flags for beginners when entering witchy or occult spaces. Here are a few of the things that I’ve noticed over the years that will immediately make me put down a book or step away from a practitioner.

1. Claiming they know every thing about every sect of spirituality / occultism or witchcraft

Simply put, there is no one person who knows the deep inner workings of every craft, of every philosophy, of every practice. The guru that claims to know everything from Reiki to Jewish Mysticism to Native American Spirituality to Voodoo to Acupuncture to Chakra Healing, Tarot, Herb Wizardy, Alchemy, etc etc etc. No. They are lying. Even the most dedicated and wise practitioners devote years into understanding a philosophy or spiritual practice. And especially in regards to closed practices, it is impossible for one person to have read and done it all. Either they are straight up lying or presenting brief skimming over texts or conversation as “years of experience and practice”. No.

2. Constantly trying to convince the reader that they are a God, deity or some inhuman creature like a cosmic elf, mermaid, or angel

Now I don’t mean to confuse this with the idea that some Luciferian or Satanic spaces may adopt that all humans are gods in their own right, or you are the god of your own existence. I’m talking specifically about books that try to convince you that you’re actually a lost race of alien who has been trapped in a human body, or has been mistaken into believing they are human. I’m not going to get into my opinions on star seeds or deity ancestry, what I will say is that very often, and I mean uncomfortably often, these ideas are intrinsically tied to supremacist or xenophobic rhetoric You do not have to be an angel to be special and cosmically significant. You don’t have to be an elf to explore herbal magic, people who push these ideas are very frequently praying on those with delusions of grandeur or other dissociative mental disorders and that’s not cool.

3. Using pseudoscience to push miracle remedies. This includes denying things that are provable to push a narrative, like the fact medication can help the mentally ill.

My dears, please fact check what you read. Please see what educated people have to say about these authors before you take everything they say at face value. As many problems and rightful distrust as there is in the medical industry, usually, if a concoction is commonly dismissed by 99% of medical professionals, it’s usually not because they’re trying to cover up the holy grail, it’s because they know it’s… probably not that good for you or simply doesn’t do what it claims.

4. Trying to convince the reader that with enough practice, willpower, and a donation of $9.99 per month, you too can obtain some incredible power that will allow you to airbend, waterbend, firebend, and basically defy all the laws of physics in general!

The point of most occultism, spirituality and witchcraft is not to defy the laws of physics or to obtain some godly power. There most certainly exists the belief in many sects of spirituality that one can influence their reality through training, but I promise you, anybody that is promoting that they can walk on water is trying to make a fool out of you

5. Inability to disagree, contest, or dissent from the opinions of the mentor, teacher, high priest(ess) or leader

This is how cults form, guys. Confirmation bias is a hell of a drug. If the presentation of different ideas or even questions are met with harsh backlash and censorship, you need to get the fuck out of there.

6. Them automatically making the assumption within a very short time of meeting you, usually presented as psychic intuition, that you are suffering and have a “deep sadness” or energy blockage in your soul that only they can fix.

I understand that damaged people often seek mediums and whatnot for help, and sometimes it genuinely brings them ease, that’s fine and good. But so often I have been approached by people online that claim that “the angels have a really important message for me that they can only give after they’ve received an epayment of just a few dollars”. These are obviously scams, but often people who have been trusted for a reading or service in the past will fabricate these stories to trap a costumer in a loop of service. Some of these claims may be genuine but I guarantee you most are not.

7. Sprinkles of Fascism

No you are not superior to other people because you’re spiritually “enlightened”. No you should not separate groups of people or decide who should and shouldn’t procreate. No mainstream society is not being being deceived by the devil, and the devil is not more prevalent in any one group of people, sex, sexuality, gender, or race. You are not the only enlightened one in a world full of lost people. Mentally ill folks are not demons and trans people aren’t energetically unaligned. You will not inherit the Earth while everyone else dies. Uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shut the fuck up.

8. The claim that ancient societies of people were aliens. Presenting hoaxes and proven scams as evidence of a conspiracy.

This includes things like using documented hoaxes as evidence that aliens built the pyramids. I’m going to be so for real with you guys rn. This is just racism. It’s insane to think the Egyptians were smart enough to build the society they literally lived in, but nobody doubts the validity of the Roman Empire. Crazy concept but maybe Indigenous people of color aren’t savage idiots. And maybe white people aren’t the only ones capable of having societies and interesting architecture. The thing about this that annoys me the most is that… Egyptians still exist today, and the ancestry that dates back to ancient Mesopotamia and Canaan still exist today too. These were human beings, just like us. The alienation of black and brown people proves how little some people see us as normal people.

9. The promotion of practices that are directly harmful. Self mutilation, disorderly eating, or rituals that can induce psychosis or states of mania.

Guess what you actually don’t have to sit on a mountain naked and eat nothing but sunlight to be enlightened. You can definitely do religious or devotional things like fasting within a healthy degree, but I so so often see people promoting things that will very obviously lead to mania and hallucinations just by design. Starving yourself for two weeks while constantly blasting mantras and doing a bunch of psychedelics isn’t enlightenment… it’s a manic episode. While some devotees may feel comfortable offering blood to deities, this should always be in very small ways, a needle poke, not self mutilation.

10. Trying to do business with minors or promote occult topics to children specifically

Just no. I really dislike the idea of selling spells or promoting deity communication to kids still in grade school. They’re trying to manipulate a young mind into believing their dogma or spending their parent’s money. If a parent wants to share their craft with their child, that’s cool, but people who specifically target a younger audience are suspect to me. This isn’t to say spirituality isn’t for kids, it’s just that content that is created for kids is often created to be surface level and profitable in the algorithm.

11. Shitting on New Age Spirituality

Yeah I said it. This to me feels very much like a let’s hate on anything women, especially young women enjoy. Let’s delegitimize their experiences and paint them all as ditzy girls just clanging their crystals together.

There are some things that New Age Spiritualists do that I’m not a fan of, all of the things in this list. However, that doesn’t make this form of spirituality and witchcraft any less legitimate just because it’s somewhat trendy right now. Go fucking howl at the moon and have bon fires with your besties while you do tarot and talk about angel numbers, I don’t give a fuck.

New Age spiritualists aren’t inherently doing anything wrong or different than what ancient cultures have been doing for centuries, it’s just trendy and profitable now. But anything that young women enjoy will inevitably be exploited by the capitalist machine and that is not their fault. Wicca is still a legitimate form of spirituality and witches are not inherently doing anything wrong by being young women. So much of the criticism against NAS is literally just misogyny.

“I’m not into new age spirituality I’m a REAL witch”

omg please shut up

[violetarks]

spit on my grave, but kiss my mouth!

anime: chainsaw man

characters: hayakawa aki, kishibe, yoshida hirofumi, himeno

summary: they hate you, they can feel it in their bones, but at the first opportunity to kiss you? who wouldn't take that chance?

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, second person pov, some name-calling, somebody tries to lush to get y/n's number in yoshida's, kishibe is in his late 20s bc holy smokes he would outshine the whole cast if he is was younger in the anime no lie, kishibe is also a little flirty in this bc that's how he was when he was younger, smoking, drinking (y/n gets a little tipsy), reference to nsfw themes but its legit just the lines "you need an s/o bc you're so tense all the time" and "we didn't... did we?", y/n and kishibe go home together, also a bit suggestive in himeno's part

↣ hayakawa aki

if there was anything he hated more than anything, aki absolutely despised slackers. anyone who postponed their work til the last minute, and for the result to be the most sloppy piece of shit he has ever seen. which is why he didn't understand why makima would ever think of hiring someone like you as a devil hunter.

you stood there, your uniform messily put on — for god's sake, your tie was undone, just hanging around your neck! even power and denji dressed better than you. how could these devils do better than a devil hunter?

you sat atop makima's desk, getting the crumbs of your sandwich all over her furniture. aki visibly cringed. how could you be so careless?

it wasn't like you were unattractive, it's just the way you acted at work that made aki dislike you. and in front of your superior. truthfully, the only reason makima hired you was because of your amazing skill as a hunter without the use of contracts. if you weren't so useful...

when he first met you, aki would admit, he was intrigued. you were pretty, and makima had brought you in to interview you. you were splattered in devil's blood, and you looked serious.

yet the moment that you locked eyes with aki, your demeanour changed. you were suddenly so sloppy. he saw the way you held out your bloodied hand to shake his, how you lazily threw your dirty coat on the couch. he knew from then on, that your looks were a waste, perhaps.

"are you finished, y/n?" makima asked, walking into her office in her trench coat. aki was called there for a morning briefing, so imagine his disappointment when he saw you instead. you nodded your head, hopping off the desk and sweeping the mess you made into the nearby bin. "good. now, you two are teaming up for your next mission."

aki wanted to refuse, so badly. he watched as you tugged on your loose collar, shirt not even tucked in, and stood beside him. he listened to makima outline the upcoming mission, and also listened to how often you yawned or shifted in your spot. you seemed so unintetrsted.

aki's never been on a mission with you, but he's seen the mess you leave behind, more than he would've left. and he's seen you guiltlessly nap in the car while everyone else cleaned up your leftovers.

you were careless when you fought, as seen when you dodge under the attack of a devil and trip over debris on the floor. aki slides in with his unpowered sword, slicing the mutated arm away and shielding you from another attack.

"get up, dumbass!" he calls, looking over his shoulder to see you brushing off dust from your lap.

"relax, geez. i'm up, i'm up." you scoff back, picking up your weapon again. aki wanted to slap some sense into you. "i'm so tired, let's get this done."

the fight continued on until it was at what seemed to be the climax. you were both beaten down, the devil on the brink of giving up. but you gripped your weapon tighter, rushing towards the enemy with determination. you were growing tired of this fight, both mentally and physically. you were imagining yourself at home, in front of the tv with some food in your hands. anywhere but here.

"aki?" you call, looking around the scene. you couldn't find him, and it was worrying you. "aki!"

you were met with silence, making you scowl and continue on trying to defeat the devil. maybe by then, you'll be able to find him and bring him back to makima for help. god, you hated dead weight.

with a few attacks landing on the devil, aki finally stands from his position beneath debris. he had been hit into a wall, making the ceiling fall over him. when he had made himself visible. you glance at him, relieved.

"y/n..." he heaves, drawing his sword. he was bleeding from his shoulders and you could count the tears and cuts in his uniform. and he blamed you for being dirty...

before you can speak, the devil immediately charges towards him. you widen your eyes, racing after it. "aki!"

he breathes in heavily, trying to gather his focus. but his vision is just so blurry that he can't think properly. the blood he's lost has already made him hazy, all he can hear is the loud footsteps of the devil. his joints click and falter as he tries to take his normal fighting stance. he's weak and you can see it.

with all your might, you rush towards him. you couldn't let him die, not someone as strong and admirable as him. while you knew he disliked you (aki definitely wasn't the most subtle), you couldn't deny his worth as a hunter, and as a person. you looked up to him.

aki doesn't know what is happening until he sees you jump high in the air and thrust your weapon to pierce through the devil's skin, knocking it off course. as it skids to the side, you tumble to the ground, rolling on the ground and getting dirt and blood all over you. aki blinks, clueless.

"are you alright, aki?" you huff out, tired. he slowly hums in confirmation. you send him a smile, which makes him gulp. "that's a relief."

the devil turns back to him though, not stopping on its tracks to get to aki. by this time, you're in front of your co-worker, holding your weapon to prepare yourself. with a deep breath, you wait for the devil to come closer before dealing the final blow, ending the devil's life.

once the devil falls lifeless, you let out a loud whine, "agh, finally! ah, i'm so beat!" you fall to the floor, knees giving out beneath you. aki watches you stay on the ground, wiping the sweat off from your brow. with a click of his tongue, he falls to the ground as well. you turn to look at him, blinking. "ah, aki. that devil really fucked you up, huh?"

you laugh makes him even more weak. you move closer to him, taking his chin and turning his head to see his bruises. "we should get you back to the office. i'll patch you up before denji and power see you, alright? they'd piss themselves seein' you like this." you joke, patting his shoulder. your carefree attitude was so irritable...but he couldn't deny that your words made him feel lighter.

so when he pushes forward and presses his lips to yours, he knows why his heart pulses harder when he's around you. he likes you. his palm rests on your neck to hold you in place, making you lean your hands on both sides of his waist to balance yourself. aki squeezes his eyes shut, as if to keep himself from seeing your shocked face.

you were speechless, frozen. but once you settled in, you kissed him back. you tasted like blood — maybe that was his own since he cut his lip — but neither of you seemed to mind. his harsh hand against the back of your head suddenly goes soft, trailing down to brush your cheek.

he sighed against your lips, upturned brows. he felt like he needed this. he needed you.

aki was mysterious with his true feelings, but this was the first glimpse into them. you let out a small sigh as you pull away.

"you—..." you mumble out, covering your mouth as you sit up straight. his hand leaves your cheek, now gripping the debris beneath him. he felt so embarrased. "idiot aki. c'mon, let's get outta' here first."

you heave aki over your shoulder, his arm over while yours is wrapped around his middle. he was also speechless, blushing so red that he kept his head down so you couldn't see. his heart was beating faster at your touch. but to kiss you? he was truly crazy, wasn't he?

↣ kishibe

"can you smoke somewhere else?" you scoff, bringing your glass to your lips. the rest of the room was filled with slight chatter, the sound if cups being clinked together.

"you see any spare seats at this bar?" kishibe asks, putting his lighter away into his pocket. the bar allowed smoking, one of the only bars in the neighbourhood that still did. he watched you roll your eyes and finish your drink, asking the bartender for another. "you're so uptight, ya'know?"

"you're the most annoying person i've ever been paired up with." you groan, watching your glass get refilled. you take your glass once more and glare at kishibe. "those things kill you."

"you drink." he says, putting down his own cold alcoholic beverage. you click your tongue at him. "you act like you're so much better than me."

"you smoke and drink, you smug asshole." you grunt, feeling a little woozy from the past hour of non-stop drinking you and kishibe have been partaking in.

this was his idea, saying that you needed to wind down. you enjoyed a few drinks every now and then, but today had been particularly hard on you. makima was really ripping into after a devil got away, making you go after them again with your partner present this time. you felt embarrassed at your loss. as much as you were strong, kishibe hated how weak you were.

there was no denying that you were somewhat talented, so why weren't you getting stronger? kishibe was already tired from his own work, but when he was paired with you, his job got even harder. you were lazy with your work, leaving hints of your weaknesses everywhere you stepped. and you wondered why. kishibe couldn't handle how much if a rule-follower you were when your strength wasn't anything impressive. sometimes he'd with you'd abandon your work and finally leave all this stuff behind. such an attractive person like you shouldn't be burning their brain trying to work as a devil hunter.

"why don't you just drink and shut up?" kishibe huffs, keeping his cigarette between his fingers. he blew the smoke into the air above you, making you cover your nose and scowl at him. you hated smoking, all the reason why you disliked being partnered up with him. he wasn't kishibe without his smokes. "you're do tense all the time, you need a girlfriend or boyfriend or something. maybe you'll relax a lil'."

"and you're telling me to shut up." you groan, waving the smoke away. kishibe rolls his eyes leaning his elbows into the counter. "you know what, kishibe? i've seriously had enough of—of your attitude."

he watches you down glass after glass; it was kicking in, the alcohol. he was wondering how long it would take before you started slurring your words. it was subtle, but kishibe has never seen you like this, not yet at least. it would be a fun way to tease you tomorrow morning when you come in to work. you glare at him, blinking a few times. he waited impatiently for you to collect your words.

"ever since i met you, you've been a pain in my ass, always runnin' your pretty mouth and rolling your pretty eyes at me." you complain, continuing to drown yourself in the sweet drinks you were taking. kishibe sighs to himself, already knowing that you'll be too drunk to pay your own bill. he pulls out his wallet to start counting bills as you go on to 'insult' him. he'd have to be careful now, he was starting to feel the alcohol too. "if you weren't so strong, i'd kick your ass myself!"

"oh yeah?" he says, deciding on when to stop you from ordering. he calls down the bartender for a few more glasses for you and himself. "you're too weak to pull somethin' like that, sweetheart. can't even hold your own against a low rank devil. need someone strong to protect you, huh?"

"what? says who?" you say, voice raising a little. he hated it when you did that, it was so annoying. you were so childish for someone only a year younger than him. "i was doing perfectly fine without you! makima needed me to babysit you..."

"what are you even goin' on about?" he huffs, taking in some smoke, "do you even know what i'm saying? are you that drunk?"

while you were a little tipsy, you definitely weren't drunk. you were just slurring your words a little, but you were conscious. you weren't saying anything you wouldn't say sober. you knew what you were doing, and how you were acting.

"'course not, shithead. i'm not getting drunk in front of you." you tell him, gulping down another drink. he thinks that maybe your tolerance is moderately high. "i'm just sayin', you're never gonna' get married if you're like that. you're lucky i tolerate you, somebody has to."

he raises a brow at that, then taking one last huff of his cigarette before putting it out in the ash tray provided. "so you're saying i'll only get married if my romantic partner tolerates me?"

"duh." you scoff, tilting your head at him. was he getting drunk? it was also your heightened confidence that he found annoying.

"and you're the only one who tolerates me?" kishibe presses.

"yeah." you answer so quickly that you don't even think. once you realise what you've said, you put your glass down. your face was burning now, and you didn't know whether it was because of the drinks or him. he chuckles. "shut up..."

"mhm." he hums out, now leaning close to you. your shoulders nearly press against each other. he sees no sign of you moving away, but you begin to stare at him, unable to figure out which eye to look at. "you wanna' kiss me?"

you let out a small sigh, glancing down at his lips for a second. but you harden your stare in his eyes.

"or are you asking me to kiss you?" he offers. your eyes widen a little at that, and it seems he has his answer already. but you were so cute like this, he just had to tease you. "but i've been smoking. it'll taste like it, y'know?"

"just let me find out." you mumble, placing a hand on the side of his stool, against his thigh, "kiss me once?"

"well, shit." he chuckles out, now resting a hand on your cheek. you blink at him, feeling comfortable against his palm. "you've got a little crush on me."

you furrow your brows and mumble out, "s—so?"

"ain't that cute?" he says, brushing his thumb against your cheek, "you're not gonna' slap me if i kiss you, are ya'?"

"only if you keep on wasting time." you huff, fist against the bar top. you would never ask him something like this out of the blue. but the atmosphere around you both... it felt suitable. a small smile dawns on his lips at your eagerness.

"fine." he sighs out, leaning forward and finally connecting lips with yours. you hold your breath, not really expecting him to do it. your hand on the stool tightens its grip as he slides his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. your lips were so soft, and warm. he can tell that you haven't kissed many people, but that doesn't matter. he never thought he'd be kissing you either.

he had been smoking for the past hour, so he did taste like smoke. while you hated the taste, now, it was sort of masked by the drinks you were both having. and you just couldn't get it out of your head that you were kissing kishibe. the man you kinda' hated.

the kiss didn't last as long as either of you would've wanted, but it's a public place and you only asked for a sample. when he pulls away, you open your eyes to see his smug smile that always makes you irritated. but this time, you're just plain embarrassed. he begins to laugh at you softly, making you click your tongue and push his face away.

"d—don't talk about it." you say, standing up and grabbing your coat. you pay for your drinks with a tip and avoid eye contact with your partner. he downs the rest of his drink and puts his own money down. you begin to walk to the exit before kishibe reaches out and holds your wrist. you glare back at him. "what?"

"can't let you go home all by yourself." he says, standing up and shrugging his trench coat on. you squint at him. "and you don't wanna' let lil' ol' me walk home alone either, do you? let's take a cab to yours."

"seriously?" you mumble under your breath, walking to the exit with him behind you. "fine... you can sleep on the couch."

"aw, such a pity."

↣ yoshida hirofumi

"yoshida, may i speak with you for a moment?" the teacher asks after the bell rings, making everyone in the class turn to their classmate. a playful 'ooh' rang around the room to tease him, making yoshida roll his eyes with a smile. the rest of the class begins to tidy their things up until the teacher speaks up again. "class president, please wait outside for a few minutes.

you look up from your desk, blinking at your teacher. but you nod your head. "yes, ma'am." you respond, fixing your uniform and taking your bag, heading outside with your friends.

yoshida can't help but roll his eyes at the way you walk out of the classroom, all preppy and gracious. you don't even look at him, as if he was scum compared to you. the two of you weren't friends and that was clear enough. you were the class president and needed to keep everyone in order. the rest of the class had liked you and you were friends with other classes too. but the only one who didn't like you was yoshida hirofumi.

you told him that the school didn't allow all those piercings and that the standard were the studs. but he came back the next day with another piercing, showing it off with a diamond earring that he wore once for the purpose of pissing you off. you reprimanded him, disliking his laidback attitude and how he didn't take school seriously. what a waste of a student. you knew plenty of people who would do way better in his position. someone like you knew this and hated that he didn't.

yoshida hated how uptight you were and how you were such a stickler for the rules. he knows that he's not a good student, but why were you always on his ass for it? there were other people in the class — hell, there were tons of other people in the school that you could've been paying attention to, but you chose him. he hated it so much.

"to cut it short, yoshida, your grades have been dropping severely." the teacher had said, making the student snap back into reality. he stands up straight again, nodding his head. "i've decided to allocate you a tutor for all of your classes. you and—"

"don't say l/n."

"... l/n will be meeting on your own terms to study. they're an excellent student and have tutored many of your classmates, yoshida, there is no need to worry." the teacher continued, handing him a stack of papers. he holds them, heaving them under his arms. "practice exams, practice essay, practice tests. you will go through all of these with l/n."

"seriously?" yoshida huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, "for how long?"

"until your grades are better." the teacher explains, sitting down to grade their quiz from today, "i understand that the two of you aren't close, but make-do for now. you need to rely on them."

"i understand." he sighs, taking the work and leaving the classroom. he sees you standing next to the door, bag on your shoulder as you read a book. he wants to cringe at the cliché scene. "hey. you're tutoring me."

"i know." you respond, tucking your book into your bag and starting on your way, "we're heading to the city library."

"wait, what? you knew?" he says, falling into step beside you. you nod your head. he knits his brows at you as you exit the school. "great. now i gotta' spend months with you."

"just get your grades up and you're fine." you respond, looking to the sky for some patience. he was already getting annoying. "trust me, even a delinquent like you can pass the next exam."

"you talk a lotta' shit for a goody-two-shoes." he huffs, swinging his bag recklessly around. the two of you board a train towards the city and you take the papers from yoshida, flicking through them and making notes of what to teach him. he watches you from his spot beside you. "even your handwriting is blinding. why is it so... neat?"

"you mean readable?" you scoff, looking at him with an aggravated expression. why did he talk so much? "i'm doing this for you."

"why did you even agree to this if we don't like each other?" he asks you, watching the roof of the strangely empty train. you look back to the work, sorting them into sections. "you have a secret crush on me or something?"

"what? no, idiot." you scoff, shaking your head, "i just don't want you to fall behind. it'd be a shame for everyone else to graduate without you." he looks back to you, a surprised look on his face. but you look away, outside. "don't look too much into it, yoshida. just trying to keep the class average up."

"yeah, whatever..." he mumbles, going back to hating you. any sliver of you being genuinely nice was now gone. he just listened to the way the train rolled across the tracks. he listened to you scribble down your notes.

he had watched countless people confess to you. just yesterday, a girl handed you a bouquet of flowers — your favourite ones, apparently — and confessed to you that she had feeling for you for a year. but you rejected her, apologising and saying that you did not return her feelings. it felt somewhat cold, yoshida was watching from around the corner. luckily you didn't notice him, you probably would've told him off for not doing his class duties.

he never understood the appeal to you. why did so many people want you?

a few minutes kater, you were in the library, setting up your things in a private study area. you gave him some work to try out and pulled out your own things to do. he sighs, taking out his pencil case to write on the paper, "put on some music or something."

"this is a library, yoshida." you retort, rolling your eyes, "just do your work and show me when you're done."

"jesus, i can't believe people actually like you." he groans, leaning back in his chair. you blink at his insult. "i don't understand why everyone flocks around you and throw themselves in your direction."

"i'm the class president, people come to me for advice all the time. maybe if you showed up to class more than one a week you'd notice." you huff out, glaring at him, "people like me because i'm good help."

"singing your own praises?" he snickers, flipping through the booklet. he hated how confident you were in yourself when he really saw you as overbearing. even the way you sat there, writing with your perfect handwriting. "i can't deal with you, president."

"i couldn't tell." you sigh, standing up. he watches your movements. "i'm going to grab you a book go borrow for the next week. it has all you need to know on the book we studied this semester. i don't have enough time to explain everything to you before the exams since it's in a few months. but that book will help."

"yay..." he mumbles out, moving onto the next set of questions. he waited for you to come back with your stupid book, but enough time had passed that it was suspicious. he even finished the booklet that you gave him, and that took him a while. he looks around the library, seeing few people walking about. "where are they go? don't tell me they abandoned me here..."

he stands up, positive your stuff would stay safe, and begins to look through the aisles. he doesn't see you yet, and he's getting pissed out. you made him come here, and you just ditched? that's so 'un-presidently' of you.

but he hears your voice in the next aisle, sounding pissed off. like always, when you spoke to him.

"thank you for showing me where the book is, but i should get going." you say, yoshida standing at the other end of the aisle, out of your sight. he could see the boom you were holding and your stupid hair, but you were blocked off by someone else. "please leave me alone."

"aw, what? i help you find your book and this is the thank i get?" the taller person says, hand against the bookshelf to keep you from walking off. you roll your eyes at them. "c'mon, just your number, that's all i ask for."

"it's your job to help people in the library find their books. you work here." you explain, tucking the book under your arm, "i don't owe you anything other than a 'thank you'."

"well i take my 'thank you's in dates." they respond. yoshida sighs, clenching his fists and walking towards the both of you. "what's somebody gotta' do to land one with you—"

"leave 'em alone, asshole." yoshida scoffs, tugging the worker back and standing in between the both of you. you widen your eyes at him before looking away, a bit ashamed to need his help. but yoshida is glaring at the librarian. "they're not interested."

"shit man, i'm sorry, i didn't know they—"

"yeah whatever. get outta here." yoshida scoffs, rolling his eyes. the worker only looks his up and down before walking off, muttering under their breath. once they're gone, yoshida looms to you. "you good?"

"yeah..." you mumble out, rubbing your forehead, "people like that give me a headache.

"mhm." he huns out, seeing how you lean against the bookcase. you stared down st the analytical text in your hands. you were so embarrassed that he had to come in and save you. some like him, protecting you...

you look back up and see his smug face, and you just know that he's aware of how you're feeling.

"who would've guessed it? i had to come to the class president's aid." yoshida chimes, leaning a hand against the bolted down bookshelf. you scowl at him, closing your eyes. "i guess you owe me one now, huh?"

"and once again, you're an ass..." you retort. your little scrunched up face makes yoshida smile. genuinely. he scans your appearance before tilting his head at you.

"what is it that makes people fawn over you so much?" he questions, looking confused. you open your eyes to see him standing closer. "i mean, sure, you're cute, but that's about it, no? your stubbornness ruins it all. as soon as you open your mouth, i wanna burst my ear drums."

"whatever, yoshida. i don't care what you have to say." you mumble back at him.

"see? so mean." he chuckles, take another step closer. you notice but don't say anything, to which he notices as well. out of all the people who have liked you, he's surely standing the closest. you haven't pushed him away, which is strange. you'd usually be out in a second. but you stand your ground. he smiles at you. "how could anyone find that attractive?"

you look to the side for a split second, only for yoshida to come unbearably closer. you can feel his breath on your cheek and his shoulder is against yours. his other hand stays in his pocket while the other braces himself. you hold your own breath.

"maybe people only like your pretty face." he says, not missing a beat as his hand slides down to hold the shelf beside your torso. his wrist slightly grazes your body. you shiver for a second, standing up straighter. yoshida pays attention. "you think so, y/n?"

"no, i—i don't." you stammer. yoshida is surprised when he feels you grasp his shirt, making him lean back jut enough to see your expression. you could barely hold your glare. so cute. "i'm... i'm a good person, so that's why—"

"that's the first thing people notice when they look at you. your looks." he claims, making your face burn hot. but yoshida just smiles at you. "you sayin' i'm wrong?"

you scoff at him, "why are you so close anyway...?" he raises his brows at you, eyes flicking to your lips for more than a second. you realise what he's looking at before you speak again. "yoshida...?"

"you don't seem to mind..." he trails off, "you can always push me away if i get too close..."

you don't say anything as he gets closer and closer until suddenly, he's kissing you. yoshida's hand stays at the shelf to hold himself up, but his other one gently holds your hand against his chest. you're kissing back before you can even think, your other hand still holding onto the book.

he tastes a bit savoury, probably because of the hot lunch he had before. but the drink he had on the table where you two were studying, is sweet. the mixture entices you as you as you are the one to deepen the kiss, pushing forward and catching yoshida by surprise.

you let out a small squeak; it was obvious you weren't experienced. with how seriously you took school, how could you be? yoshida didn't have his fair share of partners either but, he was so gentle with you.

when he pulls away, he opens his eyes to see your dazed look towards him. you gulp once you regain your sense of thought, then leaning back.

"i'm sorry, i—"

"i guess you're not a terrible kisser." he interrupts you, standing up straight and keeping his hands to himself. you feel somewhat relieved, but you nudge yoshida in the stomach due to embarrassment. "hey, stop. maybe that's why people like you."

"i don't go around kissing everyone, shit for brains." you claim, shoving the book into his chest. he stands back with an 'oof', watching you walk out of the aisle.

"so it's just me?" he chuckles, jogging to catch up with you. you glare at him. "how lucky."

↣ himeno

himeno didn't understand why aki spoke so highly of you. her friend, whose opinion was usually right, explained that you were a tremendous hunter and that you were highly respected. so why are you in her apartment, in your shirt and underwear, and eating out of her fridge?

"morning." you say, seeing the groggy himeno coming out of her room. she blinks cluelessly at you. "you hungry? i made breakfast."

"the hell are you doing here?" she grunts, walking closer to you in a hoodie and sweatpants. you look back at her, sorting the breakfast into two bowls. "and why are you using my food?"

"huh? you don't remember? you invited me over last night after drinks." you explain, taking out two spoons and shoving one into the food before pushing the bowl to himeno. "you're wearing my sweater, by the way."

"i was wonder when i bought this." she murmurs to herself. but she then shakes her head, sitting down at the counter and thinking to herself why would she ever invite the person she loathed the most to stay at hers? "we didn't... did we?"

"no, himeno. you were black out drunk, y'know." you say in an obvious tone. she clicks her tongue and eats her food. you begin to eat as well. "did you take the medicine and drink the water i left on your bedside table?"

why were you acting so nice? she gripped her spoon tighter, stopping her movements as she swallows her food. "yes. you didn't have to do that." she thinks she would've preferred if you didn't. now she feels obligated to return the favour.

"it's nothing. i didn't want you to wake up so hungover again." you retort, looking to the ceiling.

she scans you and wonders how you could be so indecent in front of her when you were 'well-respected'. your underwear was showing, you weren't wearing any pants, your shirt was crinkled and loose hanging, your hair was a mess and you just look tired overall. this was not the pristine presentation he was used to.

you catch her staring. "sorry, do you want me to put on my pants? i couldn't find em around here." you admit, looking at the messy floor. himeno feels a little embarrassed at the mess but doesn't keep her eyes off you.

"no, it's fine." she retorts, feeling her eye patch before running her fingers through her hair, "don't you have a mission or something?"

you think for a second before putting down the bowl. "yeah, i think. later, makima wants me to check something out with her." you tell her, watching her roll her eyes, "what's wrong?"

"you in love with her too?" she scoffs.

"no?" you say, tilting your head, "she's my boss."

"oh." you'd be the first she'd hear doesn't like her. she sits up straight on her stool. "really?"

"yeah, really." you say as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, making himeno stop. you continue to eat your food. "i don't date superiors."

"right..." she mumbles back, confused. but you accidentally drop your spoon on the floor, making you curse quietly. she's never heard you swear, and she stares at you.

you lick your thumb, a little bit of sauce on it, before you turn to her with wide eyes. "ah, sorry, himeno. paper towels?"

she points to the cupboard and finishes her food, watching you clean up your mess. you're not really clumsy, she knows, so seeing you drop something was strange. you were usually moving so perfectly...

"you always like this?" she hums out, chin in her hand.

you put the towels in the bin and take your empty bowls (hers as well) and clean them. "i'm sorry, i live alone. so no one really sees me mess up." you admit.

himeno hates your voice. you don't speak much, but when you do, she's rolling her eyes. what you have to say is usually so inspiring to the other hunters, but she finds them cheesy. kobeni was brought to happy tears by what you said to her before a mission, which made himeno stop everyone and wait for kobeni to stop crying.

you're so high and mighty. everyone loves you and you try to be so mysterious. she never understood why everyone liked you, why everyone tolerated you when you don't do anything. maybe you're strong, stronger than aki and kishibe, but you were just praised so much that she hated you.

but seeing you now, all over the dishes and struggling to clean the things you used, it makes you feel more human to her. she watches you from the counter, hearing you curse to yourself as the dishwashing soap falls from your hand and into the soapy water. you turn to her to see if she saw. she did. you embarrassed yourself, and you sheepishly look away. she smiles. and stops as soon as she realises she is.

you were like some high school kid watching themselves around their crush. the way you glanced at her told her all she needed to know.

"i'm gonna go and change." she says, standing up from her stool and moving to her bedroom. she doesn't wait for your reply, but she heard a faint 'okay' from her room.

she didn't understand the change. admittedly, last night was the only time she's seen you outside of work hours, where no devils were there to stop you from being just you. you were sitting quietly, listening to everyone speak. you didn't know what to say.

after you finish the dishes, you try to clean up around the living room and kitchen. there were blankets and pillows all on the floor, maybe she was having a party or something. but you pick them up, fold them, put them in their place. and you finally find your pants, sliding them on happily.

you look for your belt under the couch when you hear someone clear their throat. looking up, you see himeno standing in her work attire with her arms crossed.

"hey, i'm looking for something, sorry." you say, standing up. she hands you your hoodie, which you plan on putting over your work shirt and tie. you just needed to find your belt and you would be set. "i'll be ready soon—oof!"

you fall onto the couch, on your back, as himeno moves forward and clambers over you. she gives you a pointed look as you stare up at her, feeling your face heating up. you gulp, one hand bracing the cushion of the couch, and the other hanging off the side. she's loosely straddling one of your thighs, hovering above you as her hand still on the sides of your head.

"h—himeno—"

"do you have a crush on me?" she interrupts you, tilting her head.

"what? that would be unprofessional, i—i couldn't..." you begin, losing your voice as you feel how close she is to you. your heart speeds up. "i'm sorry..."

"i knew it..." she huffs, leaning to the side a little. she scans your face, how your eyes stay on her. "you're terrible at hiding it."

"i'm sorry." you say, gulping. she was leaning closer, and you were getting nervous. "please don't hate me for it. we're partners."

"i bet you wish we were more." she jokes, gently grasping your chin so you look her dead in the eyes. you look like a poor deer in headlights. "i already hate you. everyone talks about how cool and how strong you are. and you suck it all in, go along with it. makes you feel better, doesn't it?"

"what?" you whisper out, blinking innocently.

"i hate people like you." she says, enjoying how you helplessly stared at her. you looked so hopeless — hopelessly in love with her. without a word more, she leans down and softly connects her lips with yours.

you hold your breath, keeping still as she kisses you. it was so out of the blue — didn't she say she hated you? you carefully move your free hand to the back of her neck, squeezing your eyes shut and missing her back eagerly.

her hand drops from your chin, dragging down to stop at your waist, holding you from there. your breathing hitches, and you pull away slightly to gasp. she catches your lips again, setting herself down to straddle you properly. she continues to kiss you as you sit up slightly, elbows bent to hold your weight.

you felt hot in the face, you knew you were embarrassing yourself by being such a klutz. but as her lips leave yours, you almost chase. himeno was an enchantress. you loved her smell, the sound of her voice, the way she walked. and here she was, saying how much she hated you.

"i—i thought you didn't like me." you huff out, sitting up straight to be face to face with himeno. your lidded eyes and dazed expression made her hold her breath for a moment. but, as if you've gathered your confidence, you begin to lean in again. "do... you not wan—"

"don't you have to meet up with makima?" she says, placing a hand on your chest and shoving you back to lay down again with a huff. she hops off your, moving to grab her shoes. "c'mon, before you're late and your amazing reputation is ruined."

you take a moment to gather yourself. your hair was even more messed up, and you stared at the roof with a heavy heart. it was beating fast, making you take in a deep breath and sit up, fixing your outfit and hair. you look behind you, seeing your belt underneath the pillow. after standing up and putting it on, you see himeno waiting for you.

she was leaning against the wall, watching you scramble to put your shoes on. she herself was wondering why she had kissed you too. you were always good-looking, but the way you acted pissed her off. did your prettiness really cloud her judgement.

she looks down to you sitting on the floor, struggling to tie your shoelaces. she chuckles.

no, she just met the real you today.

[amhrosina]

Good Girls Get Rewarded

Summary: Frank gets tired of you running your mouth and decides to remind you who's in charge. Smutty antics follow.

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5k (holy shit!!!!)

masterlist // join my taglist

a/n: im not ashamed to admit that this fic is the only thing i thought about for three days straight. please enjoy. it is an absolute smut-fest!

warnings: buckle the fuck up bitches, cursing (obvi), all porn no plot, oral (male & fem receiving), fingering, pet names!!!!!, p in v sex, praise kink, size kink a little??, frank is so mean at first lmfao, lots of teasing, spanking, frank gets called sir a lot lmfao, reader is a brat, physical violence (this does not transfer to the smut!!!), i am probably forgetting so many pls let me know what i need to add!

“How’d you get this number?”

Frank’s familiar rasp was even more apparent over the phone, a tingling revelation that sent a shiver up your spine. He was in a sour mood, and you were itching for a fight. It was the perfect way to end your evening.

“Oh, c’mon, Frankie. You know I can get whatever I want whenever I want.”

“How could I forget you’re such a spoiled princess, huh? The fuck you want, princess?”

He spat the last word at you as if it were an insult. Good. He was angry, too.

“Did I catch you at a bad time? I was just admiring these pretty curtains. They designer?”

Annoyed resolve rang through in Frank’s tone as he replied. “You know I don’t know what you’re talking about. You gonna make me ask?”

“Sure, honey. I think you’ll want to know the answer.”

You smirked, eyes roaming the living room you were currently standing in the middle of. If only Frank could see you now.

He huffed. “What curtains?”

“These blue ones in your living room. Did you pick them out, or was it that Karen Page with her over-eagerness to please you?”

“You leave her the fuck out of this.” He paused, and you smirked at yourself in the mirror as the realization of what you’d said was processed fully by Frank. “You’re in my fuckin’ house? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He was already moving. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear the hitches in his breath as he barreled his way across Hell’s Kitchen, you’d know he was coming. Your plan was working. You were ecstatic.

“Cat got your tongue, princess?”

“Clever.” You hummed, running your tongue over your teeth. Since you’d first met Frank, he’d managed to throw a cat pun in your direction during every interaction you’d had. He claimed it was because the newspapers were calling you the Black Cat, but you thought it probably had something to do with the latex suit you wore. He never could keep his eyes off the curve of your hips. “Lazy, but clever, I suppose. I’ll allow it, considering the spontaneity of this phone call.”

“How kind of you.” Frank spat, and you resisted the urge to giggle over the phone. He had to be getting close, now. He’d come bursting through the door at any second. Your muscles were giddy with the thought of finally being challenged.

“You know I love chatting with you, darling, but I’ve got to run. I have a thing. Ta-ta!”

You hung up the phone, placing it on the counter and angling yourself so that you could see the front door. You weren’t exactly sure how angry he’d be that you broke into his house, but you wanted to at least seem like you had the upper hand when he charged through the door. You waited, anticipation building until you could no longer stay still. You began to pace, nervous and giddy at the same time, and of course, if you’d just been a little more patient and quiet, you probably would’ve heard the creak of the window opening behind you.

You didn’t realize Frank Castle was standing directly behind you until you backed into him. Your heart thundered in your chest, realizing exactly who was behind you and how he’d managed to perfectly out-do you in your own plan. The hands around your throat shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“It’s fuckin’ rude to break into people’s houses, princess.”

He pulled your body fully against his, attempting to wrap his arm around your neck from behind to pull you into a chokehold. You were a tricky little kitten, though, and you slipped out of his grasp almost as easily as you’d waltzed through his door earlier. Maybe he let you out. Maybe he was curious about your unprompted visit, too.

“You’re one to talk. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to grab a lady like that?”

He snorted. “Lady? Someone confuse you with someone less bitchy?”

“I’ll have you know, I am perfectly fucking civil to most people.” You assured him, jutting your chin out in defiance.

“We really doing this?” He ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw. You eyed the movement and shrugged.

“Eat your fuckin’ heart out, honey.”

You both lunged for each other, your leg rising to connect with his stomach before his fist could connect with your face. He sprang back, unharmed but winded, and caught your leg before it could connect with his chest. You were suddenly on your back, having been thrown off balance by Frank, who was pushing most of his weight down on your hips to keep you from thrashing beneath him.

“You’re rusty, kid.” His eyes were bright and fiery, a combination you’d grown accustomed to during these bouts. You brought your forehead to his chin in a headbutt that would’ve knocked anyone else out completely. Frank, unfortunately, was just dazed for a moment, blinking the confusion out of his eyes before you could make much leeway against his ridiculously strong hold on your hips.

You were, however, able to wiggle one of your legs out from underneath him, giving you the perfect opportunity to pull Frank into an armbar.

“You’re old.” You smirked. Old or not, the best thing about fighting Frank was how incredibly resilient he was. No matter who ended up on top at the end of the night, your pent-up energy was always spent.

He resisted the pull into your hold, though the only other direction for him to go was on top of you. Your breath rushed out of you as he landed directly on top of your lungs, your grip on his arm loosening enough for him to roll away from you.

“Real cute, princess. You break into my house, and now you’re trying to what? Hurt me?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you coughed and remained on his kitchen floor. He really had landed hard, but you were playing the long game. “Good fucking luck. I’m not an idiot, in case you were wondering. You can stop the act.”

“You sure about that?” You rolled to your feet, pulling your hands into fists and holding them up to block your face. He rolled his eyes again, and even though he looked relaxed - unready, even - he caught your fist before it could connect with his jaw.

“You learn that on TV, princess?”

Your brow furrowed in anger. He was annoyingly good at reading your body language now.

“Actually,” you smiled up at him, face so close to his chest that you could nearly feel his thundering heartbeat, “I learned it from your mom.” You punctuated your insult with a swift knee to Frank’s groin. “I win.”

He hunched forward and you let him fall to his knees on the linoleum flooring. It was a low blow, but you weren’t in the mood to fight fair. He never did, anyway. You pushed yourself onto the counter, watching him breathe through the worst of the pain. You were an asshole, sure, but you weren’t the type to kick a man when he was down.

“You’re a fucking menace.” He grunted, nostrils flaring with anger when he took in your relaxed posture on the counter.

“Oh, please, Frank. It’s not like you fuckin’ use the thing.” You rolled your eyes, flipping your hand through the air in the universal sign for “whatever”.

His gaze shifted from anger to something you couldn’t quite place. You’d seen the look on his face before, but you’d never been able to figure out exactly what he was thinking during those moments. He tilted his head and rose to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on your face. Predator stalking prey. Goosebumps broke out on your skin.

“What was that, princess?” He stalked closer to you, and you were suddenly very aware how cornered you were in this position. To make a hasty escape you’d somehow have to catapult yourself over Frank’s shoulder or burst through what you guessed was a solid block of drywall beside you.

You swallowed thickly. “I said, it’s not like you use the thing.”

Frank’s eyes were bright with delight. Coupled with the teasing smile on his face and the slight tilt of his head, you were a little frightened.

“And you’d know that, how?” He taunted, stepping closer to you. He was in your space now, close enough to touch.

“I know a lot of things, Frankie.” You desperately grasped at the semblance of control you had left. “I know where you live, I know what you order every morning from that diner around the corner, and I know for sure that you. Don’t. Fuck.”

“Oh yeah?” Frank was leaning on the counter now, hands pressed into the granite on either side of your hips. “You think I can’t handle myself in bed, princess? Wanna try it out for yourself?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.”

You didn’t know why you’d said it, or where it came from. Frank Castle was not the man to play games with, especially not these types of games. In actuality, you had no idea who the man was fucking or how often it was happening. You hadn’t expected him to rise to the challenge when you’d teased him about it.

“Is that right, princess?” His eyes gleamed with desire, and you finally realized what the look on his face meant. “Wanna bet?”

He pressed himself fully against you, the hardness of him apparent through his jeans. Your breath hitched against the column of your throat, and you swallowed thickly. You couldn’t deny the steady pounding between your legs, and you slightly widened your legs to allow him more room.

“Yes or no, princess? Wanna learn a thing or two?” His lips ghosted over yours, tongue darting out to lightly lick your top lip in a teasing, playful motion.

Your expectations for the night had been drastically different than this. You’d planned on a physical fight, maybe a black eye or two, and a slew of insults that you’d giggle about until you saw him again. You had not been expecting…this. Whatever this is. They probably existed, but you couldn’t think of a single reason why this might be a bad idea, so you leaned into the feeling that had been steadily growing in your core, and slammed your lips against his.

He groaned, immediately plunging his tongue into your mouth in a desperate, aching kiss. Your teeth clashed against his, but neither of you seemed to notice.

“Fuck, princess.” He mumbled against your lips, angling your chin so that he could pepper kisses down your jaw and onto your throat. You panted, pawing at his shoulders as he nipped the sensitive skin below your ear. “You gonna be good for me?”

“I’m not good for anyone.” You tried and failed to sound feisty. Instead, it came out in a mixture of a whine and a moan.

“You can be good for me, kitten. I won’t tell anyone.” His hands ghosted over the bottom of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He didn’t lift it up yet, and he probably wouldn’t, you realized, until you offered him some kind of consent.

“Only if you ask nicely.” You teased, brushing your lips over his jaw.

He snorted. “That ain’t happenin’.”

A feline grin made its way across your face. “I know.”

He gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up at him as he leaned in close and whispered, “You’re going to be good for me, you fucking brat. Don’t make me say it again.”

Warm delight flooded your stomach, and even though it went against what you believed in, you nodded. You couldn’t think of a single thing you would rather be doing.

“Good girls get rewarded, kitten.” He adjusted his grip on your jaw, sliding his fingers further down your neck. He toyed with the hem of your shirt again, tugging it slightly so that you arched into his chest. “Can I take this off, sweet girl, hmm?” He hummed, running his tongue across your bottom lip.

You nodded again, and the hand around your neck flexed with displeasure.

“I kiss you for thirty seconds and your big mouth suddenly knows how to shut up?” He pinched your hip, eliciting a yelp from your unassuming mouth.

“Fuck yo-”

“Careful.” He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. “Use your words, kitten. I know you know how to be sweet. Be sweet to me.” His lips ghosted over yours, breath fanning across your flushed cheeks. “Can. I. Take. This. Off?” He punctuated each word with a slight squeeze of his hand, still wrapped around your throat.

“Yes.” You breathed, dipping your chin in a single nod.

“Yes…?” He cooed, close enough for you to see the amusement glittering in his eyes. The fucker was enjoying this entirely too much. Still, your core hadn’t stopped pounding since he’d cornered you, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t incredibly turned on by this, by him. You gave in to his question, as much as it hurt your stubborn heart to do so.

“Yes, sir.” You clenched your teeth around the word ‘sir’.

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Or should I call you master? Or daddy? Or maybe punisher? You gonna punish me, dadd-”

His hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off before you could continue.

“Shut the fuck up. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You’re such a fucking brat.” He pulled your hips flush against his, and you bit your lip to stifle the moan making its way up your throat. He leaned in, centimeters away from your lips as he whispered, “You want to be punished, kitten, hmm? I can do that.”

You were suddenly pulled off the counter and roughly thrown over Frank’s shoulder. The swiftness in his movements made you yelp, anger coursing through your blood at his man-handling.

“Fuck you, Frank.” You gritted your teeth.

His only response was a swift slap to your backside, which was nestled directly over his shoulder.

“You can’t just throw me around like a doll!” You protested, though you did nothing to try and wiggle your way out of his grasp. The man-handling was making you a little hot and bothered, but you wouldn’t be admitting that anytime soon.

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” He grunted as he threw you down on his bed, grasping your legs and pulling you down the mattress until he was towering over you again. He brushed your hair out of your face, a gentle gesture that juxtaposed the usual ferocity of your meetings. His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, and before you could think twice about it, you opened your mouth and began sucking on it. A grunt, a smirk, the subtle desire lurking behind his intense gaze - all of it was incredibly sensual. “Should’ve known the sweetness wouldn’t last. You’re a brat, through and through, kitten.” You replaced the sweet caress of your tongue around his finger with your teeth, softly biting down on the tip of his thumb in response.

“I like it though.” He mumbled quietly, more to himself than to you. His gaze coasted down your body, catching on the swell of your breasts and the curve of your hips. He looked back at you, having come to a silent decision. “I’m gonna give you another chance, kitten. Does that sound okay, baby, hmm? I want to make you feel good, alright? All you have to do is be good. That’s it. Can you do that for me? Can you be good for me?”

You blinked up at him, his frame so wide above you that it was almost sinful.

“I can be good for you.” You responded slowly, relinquishing your hold on his thumb. He quirked an eyebrow at you, and you quickly added, “I can be good for you, sir.”

His cheeks widened into a smirk.

“You’re already doing so well, sweetheart.” He praised, running his hands along your sides until they met the bottom of your shirt. You arched into him as he pulled the fabric over your head, relishing the gentleness of his touch while simultaneously missing the roughness from before.

He slid the tip of his tongue from your navel to the valley between your breasts, tugging on the thin material of your bra with his teeth. His breath fanned across your chest, bringing a renewed sense of urgency to your aching core.

“Frank.” You whined, pawing at his shoulders and attempting to pull him fully against you. He barely budged, instead choosing to narrow his focus onto your pebbled nipples.

“What is it, kitten, hmm?” He pressed a soft kiss to your nipple. It was through your bra, but it might as well have been to your bare breast, because the rippling heat that washed through your body elicited a breathy moan from your throat.

“I need- I mean, I want- Can you-” The warmth from his mouth around your nipple was scrambling your brain, and you couldn’t begin to function as his fingers began sliding your pants down your legs.

“You need somethin’, sweetheart?” He was teasing you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stay silent about it.

“Quit teasing me.” You whined, and his hands halted midway down your thighs.

“You think you have any control over this right now?” He chuckled, yanking your pants down your legs in one swift motion. “I haven’t forgotten how bratty you were earlier. You keep this up and you’ll be lucky if I let you come at all, sweetheart, and it’d do you good to remember that.”

Desire sparked deep in your core at his tone, and a devilish smile made its way to your face. He eyed you warily.

“Don’t do whatever you’re thinking about doing.” He warned, returning his attention to your breasts. “Behave. Can you do that for me?”

“Can you?”

The words were out before you could stop yourself. It was just so easy to talk back to him. He brought his teeth down around your nipple, biting hard enough to bruise.

“Brat.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed completely. You whined at the loss of contact, but it quickly turned into a moan when Frank’s rough hands flipped you onto your stomach and slapped your ass hard enough to leave a mark.

“You’ll learn to be good.” One hand held your squirming form beneath him while the other came down in another harsh slap. “I’ll fuckin’ teach you if I have to.”

You moaned, louder and louder with every slap. Sure, you were a menace to the streets of Hell’s Kitchen and, likely, Frank Castle, but you never knew being bad could feel this good. Frank hoisted you up against him, roughly pressing your back into his chest.

“You’ll submit.” He whispered, nipping at the exposed skin on your neck. “I’ll make you. I dare you to try and stop me.”

He shoved you off of him, pulling his shirt over his head as you flopped down on the mattress. You tried to crawl further up the bed, but his hand clamped around your ankle and tugged you onto your stomach again. The position gave him a perfect view of your clothed cunt, which was thoroughly soaked in its current state.

“This underwear is pretty, baby.” He mumbled, running his fingers over the damp cotton. You squirmed beneath his touch, moaning as his fingers brushed against the part of you that needed him the most. “You wear these just for me?”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, arching your back even more to give him a better view.

“Turn over, baby.” He instructed, gently prodding at your hips. You flipped over, splaying yourself out beneath his standing form, panting. “You’re good when you want something, aren’t you?”

“Who says I want something?”

Jesus. Christ. You really couldn’t help yourself. You sighed in disbelief at your own attitude. At this rate, he’d never let you come.

“Watch it.” He brought his hand down, slapping your clothed cunt in warning. You felt yourself clench around nothing, dying to be touched by him again. “You look delicious like this, kitten. I’m dying for a taste.”

His eyes flicked up to yours in question. Even after everything, he still wanted your consent before he crossed the next line. You nodded, and then winced as his eyebrows shot into his hairline and he brought his hand down in a harsh slap, connecting with your pussy again. “Words.”

“Yes. Yes, please, sir. Please taste me.” You corrected yourself, widening your legs.

“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” He sank to his knees, grinning. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, which surely would’ve gotten you another punishment, and tried to relax against the mattress.

“Look how pretty you are when you’re behaving.” He hummed, breath fanning over the soaked fabric. You whined as your pussy fluttered at his praise. He pressed a soft kiss to your mound, still refusing to remove the fabric simply because he knew it was driving you crazy. “You like it when I compliment you, kitten? Look at how wet you are, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, swallowing hard. You were so turned on it was starting to hurt, but you knew if you complained he would stretch the process out even further. Instead, you leaned into the praise and hoped he’d give in soon. “I’m being good, right, sir?” You asked, legs trembling with anticipation. He kissed your mound again, eliciting a groan from deep within you.

“Yes, kitten.” He smiled against your pussy. “And good girls get rewarded. Right, baby? Hmm?”

You moaned loudly as he hummed against your wet core. “Yes! Yes, please.” You nearly screamed out.

And finally, finally, he pulled your panties down your legs, discarding them in his back pocket. He briefly sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, taking in the sight before him. You were glistening with wetness - so turned on from his words alone that you could quench his thirst for a year with the amount of arousal leaking from your cunt. He grunted, slowly remembering the game he was supposed to be playing with you.

And you tensed, noticing all of this. You may not know a lot about a lot of things, but you knew Frank Castle, and you knew how to read him. You knew exactly what he’d been thinking. For a second, you had forgotten that this was all one giant game to him. He didn’t miss the way your demeanor changed. His eyes slid to yours in question.

“What is it, honey?” He asked, voice still dripping with lust but also with genuine concern.

“I just-” You struggled to find the words, and then tried to sweep the entire interaction under the rug. You wanted his tongue on you, now.  “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Lying ain’t something good girls do.” He arched an eyebrow at you. You whined, pressing your head into the mattress.

“Is this a one time thing for you?” You asked, refusing to meet his eyes as you did so. It would be pretty embarrassing to be sent home in your current state - needy and wet - but not the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. You would not torture yourself by watching his eyes go from lusty to their usual cold demeanor.

“What do you mean?” He asked, running his thumbs over your hip bones.

“I mean,” you huffed, sitting up on your elbows and forcing yourself to look at him, “Will you call me after this?”

Frank’s face morphed into an understanding smirk. “Are you asking me to?”

You glared at him. He pinched your sides again. You rolled your eyes. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll call.” He said, and then his tongue was swiping through your folds, and you couldn’t do anything but flop back onto the mattress again and groan.

He lapped up the arousal that had been leaking out of you since he’d arrived earlier before focusing his efforts on your clit. His tongue drew figure-eights around your clit, sending shocking waves of pleasure through your body, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, you were sure you’d died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so pretty.” Frank mumbled against your clit, sending a new spark of pleasure through you. “It pisses me off how pretty you are.”

“Please don’t stop.” You begged, legs shaking as you wrapped them around his head. His hand, which had been trailing closer and closer to your entrance, finally found its home, buried deep in your pussy. He pumped two fingers in and out of you, all the while sucking on your clit and going back and forth between praising and degrading you. You weren’t sure which direction was up.

“You just show up looking like a fucking goddess,” he punctuated the word with a harsh suck to your clit, “and expect me not to fuck you, princess? You’re begging to be fucked in those tight pants.”

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, sucking at your clit with more ferocity than you thought he was capable of. You were sobbing now, so close to the edge that you couldn’t stop the tears flowing down your temples and onto the comforter beneath you.

“You’re such a fucking brat sometimes, fuck.” He grunted. “But you’re so god damn pretty when you misbehave. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Frankie.” You sobbed, moaning as he sucked on your clit again.

“You wanna come, baby, hmm?” He cooed. “Only good girls get to come, kitten. You think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You practically screamed it, your entire body shaking with anticipation of your release. “Please let me come, sir.”

“Well, when you ask so nicely, honey.” He shrugged before attacking your clit with his tongue again.

You erupted beneath him, coming so hard your vision blacked out. You could vaguely feel Frank holding your hips in place, but your body was mostly one spark of pleasure after another. Your heart thundered in your chest, mimicking the pounding in your core. Frank squeezed your thighs hard enough to bruise, lapping up every drop of your release, but you were so far gone you barely registered it.

You eventually returned to your body - sweaty, panting, and thoroughly taken care of. Frank was smirking, pressing soft kisses into your skin.

“See what happens when you’re not a brat?” He teased, kissing the valley between your breasts. “Good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been so good for me, kitten.”

“What’s my reward?” You gasped, still a bit hazy from your orgasm.

“What do you want it to be?” He nipped at your jaw, trading between soft kisses and little bites that were sure to leave marks.

“I want to-”

His phone began ringing in his pocket, a sharp and alarming ring that startled both of you out of your hazes. He reached into his pocket and cringed when he saw who it was.

“Who is it?” You asked, curious.

He flipped the phone around for you to see, and you immediately tensed up. Motherfucking Karen Page was calling Frank, and he looked like he wanted to answer it. Your haze was gone now - long gone - and you suddenly felt like crying.

“Answer it.” You taunted, though you thought you might really start to cry if he did.

“I don’t think I’m going to.” He responded, watching you carefully.

“No, really,” you said, attempting to sit up, “She might need saving, again.”

It was a low blow, and you both knew it. It wasn’t Karen’s fault that she wasn’t skilled in hand-t0-hand combat. There was a pattern, though, and no matter how many times she got herself into trouble, Frank and/or Matt were always there to save her.

“Watch your mouth.” He blocked your attempt to sit up, shifting his weight so that he was fully hovering over you. He silenced his phone and slid it into his pocket. “You’re being a brat again.”

Hot, shameful tears welled in your eyes.

“I’m not trying to be one. This is my personality.”

“Crying after the most mind blowing orgasm you’ve ever had?”

“No.” You mumbled, though you couldn’t stop the sneaking smile from forming on your face.

“You’re pretty when you smile.” He said, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“Careful, Frank.” You murmured. “It almost sounds like you care.”

He nipped at your neck, an already sensitive area, and you groaned against him.

“I do.” He said genuinely, pulling back to make eye contact with you. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head about that right now, princess. You’re about to be so cockdrunk that you won’t be able to see straight for a week.” Your pussy clenched as he grinded against you, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your stomach for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“What about my reward?” You hummed, wiping stray tears away. “I still get that, right?”

“How could I forget?” He mumbled, nipping at the marked skin around your breasts. “Princess wants her reward. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want to suck your cock.” You said, straight-faced and innocent, blinking up at him with such softness that he looked on the verge of tears. “Sorry.” You mumbled, correcting yourself before he could, “I want to suck your cock, sir.”

“You’re a fucking angel.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed and into a standing position again. You followed, reaching for his jeans. He grabbed your hands, briefly stopping them from tearing his jeans off.

“Are you sure you want this, princess? A reward is supposed to be about you.”

You sort of liked the way he called you princess now. Before, when it had been fist fights and anger, it sounded like an insult. But now, the gentle cadence he said it with made your heart clench in your chest.

“I want to.” You nodded, and smiled up at him. “Can I, please?”

He undid his belt with one hand, bringing the other up to cradle your jaw. His hand was massive on your face and neck, a reminder of how insanely large the man standing in front of you was.

“When you look at me like that,” he started, biting his lower lip and slightly shaking his head, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “I forget how fucking bratty you are. I just want to corrupt the innocent little smile of yours.”

“I come pre-corrupted.” You grinned, the feline smile returning to your face as you looked up at him. “But you’re more than welcome to try.”

You tugged at his boxers, revealing his achingly hard cock. Sucking in a breath, you tried to imagine all of it fitting inside you as he stepped out of the boxers. Your mouth watered when he stroked himself a few times, smearing the precum across the tip of his dick.

“You realize I can’t let another man touch you after this, right?” He asked, eyeing the way your tongue slid across your bottom lip. He shrugged. “You’ll never want another man, anyways.”

“You sound so sure of that.” You murmured, not fully comprehending the words coming out of your mouth. You flicked your eyes up, briefly meeting his gaze before returning to the matter at hand.

“That sort of sounds like that attitude that keeps getting you in trouble, princess.” He raised his eyebrows at you. You quickly rewound the conversation, blinking out of your cock-drunk haze.

“No. No, sir.” You shook your head, desperate to get your mouth on him. “Can I? Please?”

“That’s what I thought, baby.” He murmured, tucking your hair behind your ears. His hands traveled around your head, pulling your hair into a ponytail at the base of your neck. You slid off the end of the bed, sinking to your knees in front of him. “Go ahead, sweet girl.”

You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and kissed the tip. He let out a slow breath as you grew bolder with your mouth. His salty pre-cum smeared across your lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging your tongue through it. He groaned, tightening his hold on your hair.

“I want you to fuck my throat, sir.” You murmured, looking up at him.

“You keep looking at me like that, I ain’t fuckin’ anything. Those fuckin’ eyes of yours are gonna be the death of me.”

“Didn’t realize you were so quick to-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. You grinned, stifling a giggle before wrapping your lips around him again. You pushed your head further and further down his cock, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as you went. When your nose brushed against his pubic bone, he let out a stunted moan, slightly thrusting into your throat.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bobbed your head up and down with more fervor, begging him to fuck your mouth harder and faster.

“You look, fuck-” He couldn’t stop himself from groaning, which spurred your movements on even more. “You look fucking amazing like this, princess.”

You hummed with acknowledgment, hoping it was enough for him to keep thrusting into your throat. Tears freely streamed down your cheeks, surely smudging the eye makeup you’d put on before you left your apartment earlier that night, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Frank Castle was sliding his dick down your throat, and you were so turned on you could probably come just thinking about it.

Frank suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a trail of spit connecting your lips to him as he panted. “‘m gonna come if you keep doing that.” He explained when he noticed your furrowed eyebrows.

“Want it.” You breathed, reaching for him again. He instead pulled you to your feet in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Another time, princess. The first time you make me come, I want it to be in your sweet little pussy.” He winked. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed how good you’re being.”

He pulled you into a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth. You groaned at both the praise and the intensity in which he kissed you. Both set your insides on fire. He led you backwards until your legs hit the bed, and you couldn't help but nip at his bottom lip when he tried to pull his head back.

“Good girls don’t do that.” He smirked, pushing you lightly so that you’d flop onto the bed again. He ran a hand over your cheek, smudging your makeup even more before running two fingers along your bottom lip. You caught on, slowly wrapping your lips around his fingers and lightly sucking. “You’re not good, though, are you, princess?”

You shook your head. His eyes had darkened again, sending a familiar pounding to your core. Your legs trembled as he began to inch his fingers in and out of your mouth.

“You can be.” His voice had lowered considerably, barely above a raspy whisper. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, princess. I won’t tell anyone.”

You whimpered, sliding your tongue around his fingers. Your skin was on fire, and the longer he stood there staring at you with those lusty eyes, the wetter you became.

“Can I fuck you now, princess?” He asked, transfixed on the fingers he was sliding in and out of your mouth. “You gonna be a good girl and let me ruin you?”

He pulled his fingers from between your lips, gripping your jaw tightly. He watched you, waiting for a response. You almost nodded, making the same mistake you’d made countless times already, but caught yourself at the last second.

“Yes.” You said, swallowing. “Yes, sir.”

“Lay back, princess. I’ll take good care of you.”

You laid back and widened your legs for him, noticing the twinkle in his eyes as you complied with his demand. If you were in your right mind, you might’ve said something witty or bratty to him about it, but he was towering over you, cock hard and ready to fuck you into oblivion, and you wanted him so badly. You groaned when he began running his fingers through your slick folds, already trembling.

“This all for me?” He asked, circling your clit once, twice.

You nodded, forgetting yourself for a moment, and yelped when his hand smacked your bare pussy. It didn’t hurt. In fact, you felt your pussy spasm in response, but you’d been so lost in how great his touch felt that you hadn’t realized you’d broken a rule.

“This all for me?” He asked again, rubbing your clit roughly with the heel of his hand.

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You whimpered, legs trembling when you felt the heavy weight of his cock resting on your pussy. He used it to slap the slickness a few times, eliciting a whine from deep in your chest. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.

“Who does this belong to, baby? Whose sweet pussy is this?” He asked, smacking your pussy with his cock again.

You froze, knowing the answer he was looking for, but wondering if you wanted to lower yourself to that level. It was vulnerable to give yourself over to Frank this way, but it also wasn’t as terrifying as you thought it would be.

“Say it.” He encouraged, sliding his cock through your slick folds. “Submit, princess. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Is that a promise?” You taunted, trying not to groan at the friction against your clit.

“Quit being a fucking brat.” He grunted, lining himself up with your entrance. “Say it.”

“Yours. It’s yours, sir.” You whispered, and he buried himself deep inside you.

All the gentleness you’d experienced leading up to that moment was gone, and you couldn’t do anything but cling to Frank’s shoulders as he obliterated you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart.” He hovered over you, kissing, sucking, and nipping at every inch of skin he could reach. He was marking you everywhere - you didn’t miss the implications of that - and barreling into you over and over again.

“Say it again, baby.” He whimpered in your ear, the closest you’d ever come to hearing Frank beg. “Who does this sweet pussy belong to?”

“You, sir. It’s all yours.” You replied instantly, whining as he angled himself and pistoned deeper into you. You could barely think straight, only aware of where your skin ended and Frank’s began. “Fuck, Frank. Sir. I’m fu-” You panted, whimpering, “I’m close. ‘m gonna-”

“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” He murmured, ghosting his lips over your jaw as he pressed kisses to and nipped at your throat. “Cock drunk and needy. You’re so fucking pretty.”

“Sir, can I-” You shuttered when you felt his hand on your clit again, teasing it with rough, slow circles. “Oh, fuck.”

“You’ve got such a dirty mouth, baby.” He grinned, skimming his teeth along your jawline. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He punctuated the word ‘crazy’ with a deep thrust, pressing against the spongy spot deep inside you that would send you reeling. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you trembled around him. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, a sight he never wanted to stop seeing.

“You wanna come, princess?” He cooed, biting the sensitive skin on your throat and kissing the sting away.

“Please.” You gasped. It was the only thing you were capable of saying. You barely registered that you’d forgotten to call him sir, but he was so transfixed with the sounds you were making that he didn’t mention it.

“Princess gets what princess wants.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you steady as he pistoned into you at an indescribable pace. You fell apart beneath him for the second time that night, arching and panting and whining as you fluttered around him. He attacked your throat, jaw, and lips with kisses, licking and nipping at your skin.

“That’s it, baby.” He talked you through the overwhelming pleasure, holding you tightly against his chest as he continued to thrust into you. “You were such a good girl, honey. You did so good.”

You whined, fluttering around him at the praise. “I want another reward.”

In any other circumstance, your demand would’ve pissed Frank off, but you just looked so pretty underneath him. “Oh, is that so?” He asked, eyebrows raising. Amusement rang in his tone, and it emboldened you to keep speaking.

“Yeah.” You gulped, still shaking from your orgasm. “I already know what I want.”

“You’re sounding more and more like the brat I just fucked silly.” He said, gently thrusting into you. “Spit it out, baby. What do you want?”

You swallowed, smiling a little. “I want you to fill me up, sir.”

He paused, pressing his forehead to your shoulder and huffing a laugh. His warm breath sent goosebumps skittering across your skin. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He mumbled, kissing you sweetly.

“I was good, wasn’t I?” You feigned innocence, knowing it would send him closer to his relief. “And good girls get rewarded?”

“Yeah, baby.” He nodded, picking up the pace of his thrusts again. “Good girls get rewarded, and you were the best girl, baby.” He leaned into your hold, lips ghosting over the crest of your ear as he whispered, “I’m gonna fill you up, baby, and you’re going to walk around dripping into your pretty little panties all day tomorrow.”

You eagerly nodded, agreeing with him, and whimpered when he began thrusting into you at a relentless pace. You arched into him, nipping at his throat hard enough to leave a mark. “You’re perfect, baby.” He breathed. “Even when you’re being a brat. Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

His thrusts grew sloppier, his breaths coming in short, stunted grunts as he finally let himself go. His heart thundered in his chest, and you clung to him, kissing across the broad expanse of his body until he nearly fell on top of you in trembles.

You cradled his head against your chest, breathing in unison with him. At some point, his arms had wound around you, which meant you were now wrapped in each other’s arms, limbs tangled together as both of you came down from your highs.

“Holy shit.” Frank said, chuckling. “That is not what I was expecting when you called.”

“You gonna kick me out now?” You asked, half-joking. He tensed against you, lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Don’t be a brat.” He nipped at your skin. “I’m not kicking you out, unless you want to leave.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. “Of course I want you to stay. I’m a fuckin’ gentleman, kitten.”

You scoffed, though you could feel yourself hiding a smile. “Whoever told you that clearly hasn’t heard you in the bedroom.”

He scoffed in mock-offense. “Are you saying you didn’t have a perfectly nice time just now?”

“I did.” You grinned. “I’m…sorry I said you weren’t good in the sack.”

He looked up, stunned. “Did the Black Cat just apologize? To me?”

You rolled your eyes, huffing. “Yeah, but no one would believe you if you told them.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough, princess.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think you need to admit to me that I’m incredible in bed and that you were wrong.” He was grinning so wide you had to resist the urge to punch him in his stupid, handsome mouth.

“I’m not doing that.” You shook your head, stifling a laugh.

“Do it.” He murmured, nodding.

“I refuse.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

You were both grinning at each other now.

“You’re such a brat.” He said.

“That’s what got us into this mess.” You countered.

“Just say it, princess. For me?” He pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Fine.” You gave in, rolling your eyes. “Frank Castle, you’re a sex God!”

He chuckled, pulling you tightly into his chest.

“Good girl.” He praised, kissing you softly.

“Do I get a reward?” You arched an eyebrow at him, smirking.

He smirked back, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Oh yeah, princess. Good girls get rewarded, remember?”

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @stray-kaz @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @fxlsealarm @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787-blog @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @laaundromat @coacaiyne @niki-is-a-thing @megmastersgf @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs

[chaepink]

mmmm imagine naga reader is doing smh at their desk with their tail hanging out the chair and izuku is horny so he just straight up starts humping the part of your tail that's on the floor

Impatient | sub!midoriya izuku

wc: 520+ words | masterlist

dom!naga!reader, begging, humping/rutting, degradation, reader is kinda mean/ignoring izuku in the beginning, ruined orgasm

note: exam over, felt like posting something

"Please [name]." You sigh, halting the pencil in your hand. Without turning around, you already know that your boyfriend is looking at you with pleading eyes.

"I'm busy, sorry baby. Now be a good boy and be patient till I'm done, okay?" You continue writing, ignoring the soft whines coming from him.

Normally he's a good boy and would be patient but today is different. After being busy with hero work for the last few days—weeks even— he's extremely horny for some physical touch. Your touch specifically.

"But [nameeeeeee]," he begs "I'm horny-" You abruptly turn around and give him a glare that sends shivers down his spine. You pretend to not notice the tent in his pants becoming even more obvious either.

"Baby, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm busy. I promise to get to you after I'm done okay?" You turn around and he huffs. Then an thought pops up in your head.

"If you're really that horny babe," you joke, "go ahead and hump on my tail." You add on by swaying your tail a little, knowing that your boyfriend is watching your every move.

Minutes pass and you hear nothing from him so you assume he fell asleep. But then you hear steps heading towards you and before you could say anything, something heavy sits on your tail and begins moving.

Your breath catches against your throat. You really didn't think he would take you seriously. Turning where your tail lays, you're met with a fantastic view.

Red, blushing, and eyes rolled back to his skull, there was midoriya rutting against your tail as fast as he could.

His pants were nowhere and the only thing covering his cock was some thin underwear that showed the outline of it with a damp spot on top.

You curse under your breath. Holy shit did you not expect that. Though you did joke about it, you never thought midoriya would be bold enough to actually accept the offer.

A choked moan escapes him as he starts to go faster and faster on your tail. You can't help but move your tail in order to help him, making a mewl leave his mouth as he ruts against the tail at an even faster pace.

"please ah!- please please fuck-"

"such a fucking slut aren't you." Another loud moan. He nods eagerly. He doesn't even try to deny it.

"yes! o-only for you!" He starts babbling as the pleasure gets too much and you start moving your tail even faster. He's not even moving himself anymore, only letting your tail do all the work as he sits there all dumb and pretty.

"gonna cum please-!" And then you stop. He whines and starts moving on his own, wanting- no- needing to chase his orgasm. But then you pull out your tail from under him, making an even louder whine leave him as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. You click your tongue.

"don't worry baby, I'm done with you. Especially not when you oh so misbehaved earlier." He gulps but you swear the tent in his underwear grows. Fucking slut.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[dontlookatmytmntcollection]

(I didn’t find any info if your askbox is closed or not, if you are not taking up requests you can ignore this!)

But hi :) how are you? how you are doing well

this is a bit personal, but would you mind doing either a Headcanon or scenario with reader x turtles (romantic/crush stage) with a…Hopeless reader? Kinda someone who had to tell themselves that love isn’t on their life journey and that seriously bother them? Lol

this weekend I’m gonna attend a friends wedding, while meeting with some shared friends before the wedding, one of them quoted corpse bride’s scene “to Emily, always the bridesmaid, never the bride” for me (most of my friends are married or dating long term), usually I handle the lack of a love life fairly well (by not thinking about it or just making jokes about it lol) but tonight it kinda really bothered me, a lot.) a lot of my friends treat me being single as something I don’t out efforts in it? But holy shit I do, and it really hurts to see them saying or acting like I’m not doing enough? Anyways. I guess the request would be how the turtles would react to a reader who kinda just lost hope, who agrees with the quote even if it makes her very sad? Kinda trying to wing the night lowkey but turtles can sense it hurt her (maybe Vern said the quote lol, or something similar… that’s something stupid enough for the falcon to do 😅)

I hope makes sense, if not I apologize for the messy ask. Have a good day / night

I'm sorry that happened. Your friends definitely need to stfu about that lol dating and relationships are fun, but nobody NEEDS them. If they need a RELATIONSHIP to feel fulfilled, they have shit to figure out.

Definitely been there tho. And being single can be horrible. I see you

Scene: Your turtle has been secretly pining for you for a while now. Hasn't got the guts to say anything yet.

TMNT x Lonely Reader

Leo

- He could sense your reaction instantly, despite how well you hid it.

- Your micro expressions, the slight but sudden shift of your bodyweight away from Vern- Leo almost didn't catch that you had smiled and laughed at the comment.

- His own reaction was visceral and overwhelming, at least it was to him.

-He remained still by your side, but the urge to...he didn't even know. Hide you. Push hard at Verns shoulder- something.

-Geez. He hadn't felt like this since he was a child. Like he could protect his little brothers or you from judgment or cruelty.

-He couldn't.

-He sucked in a breath through his nose, scrambling for self-control; watching you handle the interaction like an adult. Forcing himself to as well.

-But it did satisfy him to see that Vern physically felt his animosity. The guy took once glance at Leo before he instantly stuttered an excuse to walk to another conversation.

-"Vern is an idiot." Leo scratched out, desperate to keep what he really wanted to say to you at a minimum. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with you."

-You seemed surprised at that, glancing up at him. But your quite, sincere smile made it it worth it.

Raph

- "Always the brides maid, never the bride, huh?"

- "What?" It was a reactive response. Before you could even register what he had said, or the sudden amount of hurt- or embarrassment you felt.

- Raph had turned wide, expectant eyes on Vern as well, something Vern noticed instantly.

- "Well, yunno." Vern stutteres, trying to stay focused on you. "I've seen ya at these events a lot but you never bring a guy around...or-"

-"See that girl over there?" Raph suddenly said, leaning down a little to point your gaze in the right direction.

- "Yeah." You said quietly.

-"Who's that girl, Vern?"

-Vern looked back at you guys, shrugging and putting his hands back in his pockets with an air of pride. "She's my girlfriend."

-Raph smirked, his voice somehow both condescending and unusually soft. "Vern met her a week ago. That makes her..." Raph trailed off, looming back into his full height, towering over Vern. "The sixth one this year, right. Makin' you real good at givin' advice to pretty girls, Falcon boy. Careful with that."

-"Jesus. I'm just- I'll be over there." Vern sighed, awkwardly stepping aside then walking out of sight.

- Raph said nothing, instead turning to you. "You alright?"

-You were desperate not to say everything you wanted to. "Much better." You said instead, looking up at him. Hoping the softness you saw there was a reflection of what you felt for him too.

Donnie

- Donnie couldn't even react or register the words before you were handling it. Shrugging and waving Vern off.

-He was horrified. His eyes were glued to Vern, completely confused that the guy had missed how rude of a statement that was.

-The conversation came and went, and while he had a wonderful time, he was entirety focused on you.

-While you didn't seem MISERABLE, you were different. Something had obviously changed. And it was Verns fault.

-You had no reason to feel pressure of that kind. You were perfect the way you were! No one should ever, ever, ever make you feel anything less.

-The thought that you did made him physically sick to his stomach.

-He might not have caught it in time to say anything in the moment.

-But Verns apartment locks, car, computer, and bathroom pipes all giving him a hard time all in the next 24 hours?

-A complete and utter mystery...

Mikey

-"Yeah you should listen to him." Mikey said.

-Shock coursed through you. "What?" You looked at him, wide eyed, heart in your throat- "W- I should-"

-"You should listen to him." Mikey repeated, noding solumley, starting to confidently strole around Vern. "This guy has fantastic dating advise. You don't even know, girl. Look at him!" Mikey's smile was as bright as the sun, gesturing to Vern as if he was a plater he was showing off to you.

-"He's been on this earth so long, his life experience exceeds our very comprehension, girl."

-Vern made a sudden puzzled expression while yours melted quickly into a smile.

-"He's got recipes too. Qualifications, evidence, the whole nine yards. Guy has like- twelve grand kids-"

-"I- C'mon, Mike-" Vern was catching on.

-"Ohhh.. yeah, that's right. No grandkids. But he does have a wife. They just had their fiftieth anniversary-!"

-"I'm not that o- He's joking with you." Vern tried to explain. "I'm not married."

-Mikey snapped his fingers as he had remembered something, suddenly getting much, MUCH closer in Verns personal space.

-"Oh yeah, that's right. You're not married. I forget that your on, like, your sixth girlfriend this month. Maybe actual advise sounds like..."

-Mikey stepped away from Vern, standing infront of you. "Keep those standards up, girl. Pretty face like yours? You could have anyone you want."

-You couldn't stop smiling.

[sordidmusings]

WIP TUESDAY - Sugar Daddy Headcanons with Shanks and Garp

Saw Schoute's wonderful art WIP and writing and wanted to join the fun! Have some ridiculous Blorbos as Sugar Daddies headcanons that have been on my backburner LOL I've got Shanks and Garp ready for y'all 🫡 They're pretty much done, I moreso have to fill out everyone else on the list 🤡 No warnings really! Just some allusions to spice but nothing explicit. Lots of silliness. I believe they're gender neutral but I'm going to tag as afab just in case because I fear it may be in the subtext since that's the perspective I wrote it from and the one people generally expect for sugar babies. Might be fun to subvert sometime by writing them with explicitly amab sugar babies. I will Ponder lol I'd also love to see what everyone is working on so please take this as a sign to post something of your own!!

The song I blame for everything (I love u Thot Squad):

“This fine old man, he played three

He can knickknack this coochie

With an Amex black card, get a girl a Benz

Reset and do it again”

Word Count: Shanks ~750, Garp ~400 (sorry about the favoritism Vice Admiral 😬)

Shanks

shanks absolutely pursued this type of relationship with you

Your pretty face and open smile snagged his attention but the way you easily met and fed his energy had him at you like a dog with a bone

He’s no stranger to helping people laugh their way into his bed, but the journey with you felt different. He took extra time simply because each moment with you was too good to keep from savoring

You didn’t hide your attraction at any point but he did appreciate that you would try and prod back at him in good humor to test his will and want

You found he had both in excessive abundance

It felt nice to have someone so attractive, established, feared, and adored seek your company and watch him become more interested with each minute he got of you. It also felt nice to see that while he certainly had an abundance of confidence he held no arrogance with you - he played no games in making you question his interest or to assert his importance to you. He treated you as a person (one he mainly wanted to turn to his bedroom tenant but still-) and it made him feel more like a man than a myth for you both too

And holy hell did you like that man - he made you laugh even if at his own expense, he impressed you when he’d let some of his cunning slip through the jovial pirate shtick, he kept your interest with how he could entertain any topic you brought forward, he made you feel beautiful with the way his eyes and hands soaked you in, and he made you feel wanted with the way he treated everything about you with genuine interest. 

The only thing that made it better is how he made sure you wanted for nothing. The first night it was making sure you didn’t pay a cent for anything, you always had food and drink right before you realized you wanted it, his coat found your shoulders the moment you felt a chill, you found yourself in fresh air right when the heat and the noise of the bar became too much. 

After that it was an endless stream of trinkets, from priceless to silly but sentimental, all coming with letters that had you laughing, blushing, and swooning.

Every time he’d visit you (and it was at first as often as he thought he could manage but that managed to get even sooner and sooner because of his need for you) you’d indulge in each other like it was the first and last time

He stopped wanting anyone else - there were enough people across the seas he had to apologize to after explaining why he’d gasped the wrong name and they were never right to scratch the new insatiable itch he had anyway

When it dawned on him how much you had him wrapped around your finger, not just physically and financially but also mentally, emotionally, and he’s pretty sure even spiritually, he may have had a crisis (the crew was very torn between amusement and true wory watching it unfold, especially when the usual rum and patented Beckman Shoulder Pat with Nod didn't ease his turmoil)

It wasn't because he didn’t want to love you, but he truly never thought he’d ever find someone he wanted and needed the way he does you. It was such a foreign concept to him that he felt like the world had tilted and left everything slightly unfamiliar. Especially coming from a relationship he stapled together with riches. Sure, there was also joy, camaraderie, and intimacy holding it together, but he found it harder to trust that someone such as you wouldn't find someone younger and more present to belong to than to trust that you could need him to sustain a lifestyle of ease and abundance.

If he couldn't be sure you'd want him, he'd try and find solace in you needing him, even if it was only for what he could afford you

When he finally told Beckman of his plight, he was slightly offended by the “it took you this long to figure it out?”

He’s currently trying to figure out how to convince you to live on his ship with him. He needed to let you know you’d be safe regardless of your experience level with the seas or battle. 

He’d bring the world to its knees if anything touched a hair on your head

Luckily for him, you knew. Anyone with eyes would from the way he smiles at you.

Garp

Garp was decidedly not in your plans. Yes, you wanted someone older, someone with wealth, someone with influence, someone who would take care of you, but you thought Gilfs were an urban legend told to see what face it would get out of freshies

You’re not complaining tho

He has certainly convinced you that the rarity of his kind just pointed to what a prized role it was to shack up with one

He was rough around the edges to be sure - brash and loud and stubborn - but he used all those traits to get you both exactly what you wanted

All your needs were met without you having to even think of them anymore (you were surprised that needs in the bedroom were included in that, but you supposed you shouldn’t have underestimated a man who could still punch apart battle ships, nor one with such a lust for eating)

Neither of you had any illusions of sweeping romance

You were more than happy with the care and respect that built between the two of you in your roles, growing with each act of service to each other, each piece of comfort, each unintended moment of vulnerability

Don’t get me wrong, the vulnerability ain’t common; most of your time is this man having fun watching you light up when he took you out and tossed his money around for you before taking you home to have multiple courses of dessert

You’ll never get over his gruff voice and curling accent - they helped your brain turn to mush while he coaxed and praised you through happily giving him everything he wants as a thank you for all his care

That voice along with all that burliness and age, which you thought would’ve been a turn off not on, ended up making you feel small yet so protected

Garp didn’t think he’d enter a relationship like this that went on so long and so easily but any reservation or second guessing was lost the moment he saw you and everything just felt natural

Tho he’d still make jokes that always make you groan about how you keep him young better than his troublesome recruits (that he is stuck between wanting to parade you around to see their jaws drop and wanting to keep you hidden away from any young bucks who may try to get your attention before he’s ready to let you go)

Thank you for reading ����🤍🤍

Masterlist

[xxvalkyriesxx]

The Blood on Your Hands

Summary: Cassian's had enough of Rhysand threatening his mate. He's decided to show his High Lord what happens when he threatens her for a second time.

This is pure smut. The first half is somewhat violet as a heads up. Also warning, there's slight HOFAS spoilers but I made it vague enough that it doesn't go into much detail. This isn't an anti Rhys train, I was just mad at his reaction.

Additional Tags: I was mad once again at HOFAS / Mainly the BAM bonus chapter / Cassian is crazy in this / 1000% alphahole / But I love him / Possessive Cassian / Mating bonds / Its pure filth in the second half / Smut / Praise kink /Not really blood play but blood is kinda there 

Read on AO3 or below

Tag list: @separatist-apologist

There was so much red, Cassian couldn’t see his siphons anymore. His hands were coated in blood, his blood. The male who was his brother, his friend, his High Lord.

Rhys would heal.

That was his only reassurance as he punched his face again. His fist connected to Rhys’ mouth once more. From the hit, he spit out the mixture of saliva and blood and tears.

“We’re Ilyrian. So today we will follow their laws.” Cassian growled, his teeth baring at Rhysand. Rhysand was smart not to say anything. His breathing was heavy as he gasped for air.

Rhysand was high lord but he was no Lord of Bloodshed. He could fight his way through a battle with strategy, but when it came down to physical strength, that’s where Cassian had him. But Cassian had another factor in his anger. Something ancient and holy that not even the Illyrians would deny.

His hazel eyes met her silvery blue ones. Her face remained stoic, not a single wince of fear in sight. Yanking the High Lord by his hair, Cassian dragged Rhysand to Nesta’s boots. She wore Illyrian leathers, just like the two of them. An Illyrian in mind and soul.

“Apologize.” Cassian demanded. Rhysand mumbled something but Cassian decided that wasn’t good enough. He pulled on Rhysand’s hair, making him look up at Nesta.

“Apologize to her. Now. Be clear with your words. I will not ask again.” The High Lord gulped as more blood left his mouth. His entire face was bruised in shades of blues and purple. Ironically it complimented his violet irises.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” Rhysand spoke. Cassian sneered. “For what?” Rhysand coughed more of his blood.

“For threatening to kill you, Nesta…For a second time.” Cassian roared at the apology, his hand finally letting go of Rhysand’s head. He marched forward until he stood behind Nesta, his mate.

Silence from Nesta amplified Rhysand’s gasps and coughing fits. Still standing without so much of any emotion. The queen of queens her mother projected her to be, and today she was.

“Rhysand.” Nesta spoke. Her voice firm with her silver flame eyes.

“You will never threaten me, or my loved ones again. I did what anyone with a human heart would have done. That includes my sister. The very sister you’re mated too. There are concepts that even century old fae like yourself cannot understand. I hope after this, you understand my actions. You do not have to agree, but respect is something of mutual value.”

She offered her hand to him. “You’re high lord, which is why Cassian decided to do this in the training yard and not in Illyria. We need to be strong and unified against the ones who cause unjust rebellions. So let this be a one time moment. A learning moment if you will.”

Rhys looked up at Nesta. “Never fuck with Cassian’s mate again?” Nesta smirked. “You’re a fast learner.”

She grabbed his hand and helped him up. Together they brought him inside where Feyre was sipping her tea. Looking up, she grimaced.

“Jeez Cass, did you have to go that far?” Cassian glared at her in reply. She rolled her eyes.

“Has everyone learned their lessons?” Feyre asked. Rhys and Nesta looked at each other then nodded.

“Good. Cassian, put him down over there. I’m going to make his favorite tea and then I’ll start healing.” Cassian did as the High Lady instructed. He graciously placed the High Lord down on the sofa. All three of them heard her mumble about ‘big Ilyrian babies’ as she walked to the kitchen.

“Brother.” Cassian said, firm but gently. Rhys kept his eyes closed, but he spoke softly. “I would’ve done the same thing to you, you piece of shit.” And for the first time that evening, Cassian laughed. He bumped his fist on Rhys’ shoulder who hissed in pain. “You did that on purpose.” “Just a love tap, brother.”

Cassian walked over to Nesta who stood with her arms crossed, watching the whole scene. “Ready, Sweetheart?” A crack in Nesta’s steel armor appeared. A soft smile welcomed his question. “Always.”

The General of the Night Court swooped his mate into his arms and disappeared to their room.

The second Cassian closed their bedroom door, Nesta quietly asked the House for a sound barrier under her breath. The House created a barrier as asked, keeping everything inside their room private. Cassian looked over to Nesta and as he started to approach her, she backed him up against the door.

His eyes widened for a split second before he could smell it. Her yearning. Her need. Her desire. She placed a hand on his cock, feeling it grow hard through the leathers. A breath left him as her lips connected to his neck. She nipped and sucked at him, their desire growing.

“Never have I ever been turned on by a brutish fight.” She mumbled into his skin. “Good to know what gets you off, Sweetheart.” Cassian replied.

Her hands ran to his leathers, slowly undoing the armor letting it fall to the floor. Eventually as she reached his pants, they dropped down along with her knees. Nesta didn’t even flinch at the impact, as it just made her more turned on. His cock, thick, long, and throbbing to be inside sprung out. Quickly she took her hand and started to pump. Her lips found his head, licking his slit before putting his length in her mouth.

Cassian moaned, grabbing Nesta’s hair, pushing his cock deep inside her throat. She gagged as tears sprang into her eyes. A throbbing need matched at the apex of her thighs.

“Look at you. Taking my cock so well, Sweetheart. You didn’t let me clean up first. Does beating the shit out of someone do it for you? Do you want me to fuck you with their blood on my hands?” In response Nesta moaned, picturing the thought in her head.

“You’re filthy, Sweetheart.” The humiliation burned her desire great as she squeezed his cock harder. Cassian hissed, fucking her throat. He pulled her mouth almost fully off before entering her mouth again, letting a slip of air come in.

“If you don’t stop, Sweetheart, I’m going to cum down your throat. You want that? You want my cum everywhere, don’t you?” Nesta’s tears splattered on her face as Cassian yelled, his hot finish releasing. Nesta pulled her lips off, drooling.

“Your beauty will end me and all our enemies. They will fall to their knees looking upon you.” Cassian fell to his own knees, pushing Nesta down on the wooden floor. He quickly removed her leathers, wanting every piece of her. In seconds Nesta was bare before him, her arousal coating her inner thighs. A smirk fell to his lips.

“All of this, for me?” Nesta whimpered, her hips bucking wanting to be touched.

“Answer me, Nes.” Cassian ordered. “All of it. All of this. It’s for you, Cassian. Now please fuck me!”

“Or do I have to get your other brother involved to finish the job?” Nesta taunted.

Immediately Cassian wrapped a hand around her throat squeezing. His teeth bared as he growled. “You will involve no one else but me inside you, Nesta.” He squeezed harder. “Understand?”

Nesta’s eyes fluttered, air being trivial at this point. But she nodded to his command. Gently his hand left her neck. And right as she gasped for her air, Cassian put his mouth on her clit. Nesta swore so loudly as she saw stars appear in her vision. He sucked on her before his lips left, dragging his tongue everywhere. The taste of her consuming him to no end.

His mouth traveled from there to her inner thighs, biting the soft skin, claiming every part of her. Nesta gasped as her hands pulled at his hair. His lips found her clit again and with a tiny nip of his teeth, she came. He pulled away, keeping her legs spread apart, watching her cunt clutch at nothing.

“Please, Cassian. I want your hands, your cock. Please. Please fill me until your cum is slipping out of my cunt.” Her face flushed at her own words.

Cassian growled and let go of her legs before grabbing her cheeks. “Get on the bed. Choose whatever position you want, Sweetheart.” He let go and watched her scramble to their bed. Her arms down on the blankets with her ass up. Mother above he could die just by that view.

“I’m going to wash my hands and then I’ll be back, Sweetheart.” Nesta whined, stomping her feet the best she could in that position. Cassian strolled over, yanking her hair so her upper body came up. “I would rather chew my hand off, then have another male’s blood inside you, Nesta.” The way he growled her name made her desire leak onto the bed.

He slapped her ass hard, catching Nesta off guard. She gasped at the impact, the upper half of her body dropping back down when he let go of her hair. The red handprint on her ass was divine as he walked away. As he got into the bathroom connected to their room, he kept an eye on her.

“Touch yourself, Nes. I want you to get yourself ready for me.” Cassian called out.

Slowly Nesta brought her arm in between her legs immediately sinking three fingers inside herself. Cassian and Nesta moaned in unison. Quickly Cassian washed his hands, the blood leaving a pink faded trail behind. In mere seconds he walked out to the bed, putting two of his own fingers inside Nesta, joining her own. She squealed at the tightness of having five fingers inside her.

“You can take it, Sweetheart. You take my cock and my whole fist. You were made for me. Just as I was made for you.” He whispered into her ear. The action of their hands thrusting faster and faster made Nesta gasp as she came. Cassian licked his lips.

“I love it when you do that.” Nesta huffed a breath. “I could have gotten myself off three times by now.” “You sure you want to be a brat today?” Nesta shaked her ass in response. Cassian growled. He took her hips into his hands and thrusted his cock into her. They moaned at the sensation as it been days since they last fucked.

“I don’t have the patience for discipline tonight. So you’ll get it rough and learn your lesson later.” Cassian shouted, his hips slamming into her. His cock thrusted in her cunt as Nesta held onto the bedspread for deer life. He grabbed a hold of her neck again, pushed her body flat against his, her back on his chest.

“What do you want? Tell me, Nesta.” “Want you. Fuck me. Make me cum.” “Not what I’m looking for, Nes.”

She screamed as his pace slowed into a taunt. So slow that his cock left her except for his tip.

“What. Do. You. Want?” Nesta screamed in agony. “Please, Cassian. Fuck me. MATE. My Mate. PLEASE.” Then he found himself back inside her, pounding into her. They moaned and screamed as their desires finished, coating her walls. They breathed heavily as she dropped back down to the bed, his cock leaving her.

Cassian watched the cum leave only for it to be pushed back in. Nesta moaned at the sensitivity of the area. She gasped for him to be gentle. He noticed the bloody fingerprints over her thighs making he purr at the sight.

“I will mate. Now before we take a bath, let me clean you up.” He flipped her onto her back before he walked off and wetted a clean washcloth with warm water. He came back and gently began cleaning her thighs and in between.

“Should I beat up more people around you, Nes?” Cassian looked down at her. “Maybe I should join you and Azriel in your interrogations.” A feline grin on her face. “Perhaps, if you’re good.” He teased before he threw the cloth into the hamper. He picked her up in his arms, and off the two went to bathe.

[whore-4-drewstarkey]

The Night We Met Pt. 2 - Dad!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: when rafe finds out that his and Y/N son is slowly going down the same path he did, he decides to open up to their son about his past.

Warning: lots of angst (sorry), heavy drug use, drug overdose talk, alcohol consumption, physical violence, dark themes basically. (so sorry). lmk if i forgot any!! PLEASE DONT READ IF ANY OF THESE WARNINGS TRIGGER YOU!!!

A/N: i did a poll to see which fic you all wanted and this was the winner. i can’t remember how this idea popped in my head but it did. i really hope you all enjoy this one!! FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOMED! PLEASE BE KIND<33 ps remember to share and like!

W/C: 3.6k+ (holy fuck)

it had been seventeen years since Y/N and rafe had gotten married. the two of them had a son together, archie, who had just turned sixteen years-old. archie had definitely taken after his father looks. he was tall, with dirty blonde hair, and striking blue eyes that would catch anyone’s attention. he had also taken after his fathers athletic abilities, as he was the star quarterback for the kook academy on kildare island. but, unfortunately the worst way he took after his father, was the intense drug use that was slowly starting to make him an addict; just like his father, rafe cameron, was a mere twenty-one years-ago.

as archie had left for school one friday morning on figure eight, Y/N had entered his room to grab his dirty clothes to wash. as she’d grabbed some of his clothes, a small plastic bag had fallen from one of his khaki pants pockets, and onto the wooden floor of his bedroom next to Y/N feet. bending down, Y/N picked the small packet up to investigate it a little more, until realization hit, as tears began to brim her eyes. it was a packet of cocaine. the only thing she felt like she needed to do in that moment was call her husband who’d been in his office downtown at the cameron development. so she did. she immediately pulled out her phone and pressed rafes contact name, waiting for him to pick up as it rang through her ear.

“baby, what’s up? everything okay? you never call while i’m at work” rafe asked Y/N warily as he sat his falcon pen back down on his oak desk, ignoring the documents that needed his signature.

“i-i think y-you n-need t-t-to come home now” Y/N managed to stutter out, laundry basket long forgotten as she’d made her way to rafes home office, where there was the most privacy.

“what? why? baby, tell me what’s wrong” he insisted.

Y/N swallowed sharply before she began to stutter, and beat around the bush, not wanting to trigger him, “i-i found something i-in archie’s bed-bedroom, but i-i want to wa-warn you, i do-don’t want you tr-triggered hunny”

and in that instant, as soon as she said the world ‘trigger’, he knew she’d found not only drugs, but his old drug of choice; cocaine, in their sons bedroom. he let out a shaky breath of air, as he brought his left hand up to run through his shaggy curtain bangs he’d been growing out from his old buzzcut. “i’ll be home in ten, please don’t worry about me and my trigger, i’ll be fine hunny” he reassured his wife of seventeen-years. and with that he hung up immediately, leaving his office and telling his assistant it was family matters.

as soon as rafe put his porsche in park in the driveway, he ran into his and Y/N house which was located on figure eight, calling out Y/N name, “Y/N WHERE ARE YOU BABY? Y/N???!”

“keep it down rafael, i’m in your office you dumbass” she hushed her husband as she walked out of the french doors that lead to the said room. she grabbed his wrist and yanked him into his office, before she started to cry all over again.

rafe quickly wrapped Y/N into his arms, sending her hushed murmurs of comfort and love, easing her to calm down. she was so heartbroken her little boy was going down the same awful path his father once did. it was hard enough for her to have found rafe almost dead after his overdose twenty-one years ago. she had to go to a couple of years of therapy to recover from that incident. she couldn’t even bare the thought about losing her only child to the same demons that almost took rafe out years before. she clutched onto rafe’s forearm as he held her tight into his arms, trying to steady her shaky frame. he swiftly moved the two of them to his office chair located behind his desk, sitting down and bringing her into his lap where he continued to cradle her fragile head. he pecked her head repeatedly before speaking softly, “hey. hey, Y/N look at me hunny” as he held her cheeks to make her look at him. and in that moment his heart shattered. seeing the love of his life hurt tremendously broke him to his core. swiping some of her tears away with the pads of his thumbs he began to speak again, “we will figure this out love. we will get him the help he needs. i’ll do right by him since my father never could for me. he will be okay. i promise. even if i have to tell him about my addiction. got it sweetheart?” and with that, Y/N bit her bottom lip, and nodded her head to rafe’s reassurance.

“good, now, where is it? i promise i will be fine, you don’t have to worry about me. okay?” rafe asked Y/N as he lightly brushed her curtain bangs back behind her ear with the back of his hand, bringing his lips to hers for a delicate but loving kiss. she placed one of her shaky hands to his scruff covered cheeks, stroking his cheekbone softly, “promise you’ll be fine?”

“promise” he cooed as he grabbed her hand that had been stroking his cheekbone and placed a chaste kiss to the palm of it. she then used her other hand to grab the bag of white powder from her sweatshirt pocket, dropping it in rafe’s large, veiny hand.

“how are we going to approach him about it? you are the expert on this kinda stuff aren’t you?” Y/N attempted to tease rafe to lighten the mood. she’d always had a dark sense of humor, just like rafe.

smirking rafe responded,” hahaha very funny. i mean i am i guess? i know how not to approach him if that helps.”

“how so?”

“as long as we don’t do what ward would do, i think we will be fine baby” rafe sighed out at the mention of his fathers name. a cold-hearted man is what he was. was no father to rafe…. ever. hell, he didn’t even acknowledge him as his father these days, only called the man by his name.

“i guess you’re right” Y/N sighed as she stood back up, preparing herself for what was to come in the next few hours.

“we got this baby, we got this. yeah?” rafe once again tried to reassure the woman of his dreams as she nodded her head in response.

——————-

rafe and Y/N had taken a seat on the living room couch as they waited for their beloved son archie to arrive home from school. he’d football practice, but had received a text from rafe demanding him to come home and skip the practice, adding in that he had already talked to archie’s coach, excusing his absence. archie, being just like his father was, obligated to make his father happy, came home in a hurry.

when the front door opened frantically, followed by hurried steps and commotion, Y/N scooted closer to rafe for comfort. she didn’t know what was going to happen or how it would go down. rafe placed his large, veiny hand on her thigh, giving it a light squeeze for reassurance that everything would be okay in the end.

“we’re in here archie!” rafe had hollered from the living room couch as he and Y/N both waited anxiously for archie to arrive.

“h-hey, what’s up? what was so important that i had to miss practice?” archie questioned as rafe motioned for him to take a seat on the couch opposite of the one Y/N and him were seated on.

“umm archie, your mom went to your room this morning to do your laundry and found something a little concerning. i wanna state that we aren’t blaming you and we aren’t criticizing you whatsoever bud, we love you and want the best for you” rafe spoke warily to his and Y/N young son who sat opposite of them, with worried eyes. archie knew immediately what Y/N found when his father said laundry. he had forgotten to put his drug of choice in his secret spot in his dresser.

rafe continued before archie could even speak a word, “ archie, bud, i get it. i know the high is great and all. i know what you’re going through a-“ rafe had been cut off mid sentence by a triggered archie who had begun to yell at his father.

“really? how in the hell would you, of all people understand how good it makes me feel when i get a little bit of a kick?”

and with that outburst and those words coming from his precious archie, came rafe’s sadness and anxiousness. he had to tell him about his addiction and more specifically; he had to tell him about his overdose that dreadful night Y/N had found him in his bedroom. frustratedly, he pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly as he tried to find the words to tell archie about his horrible past. he tried to sniffle back some tears, but gave up as he had remembered the only reason why he used to hold back his emotions; his father. so, he let a few tears fall down his stubbled cheeks as Y/N had an arm around his shoulders rubbing his back while the other rubbed his inner thigh to comfort him, all while whispering sweet nothings only rafe and her could hear.

“you got this” she whispered as he raised his head again to make eye contact with archie.

“archie…” he started as he composed himself for what he was about to say. “when i was your age, i used to go out and party a lot. when i first started doing cocaine i was only fifteen years-old. nobody knew in my family. hell, it’s not like anyone would have even cared if they had known anyways” rafe shook his head as he took a deep breath to continue.

“and by the time i was seventeen, all i did was party, drink, snort cocaine and get into a lot of physical altercations. i was heavily addicted to the drug. and some of those altercations i had were so bad that some people were even hospitalized. i was not a good person and i sure as hell was a danger to myself and those who were around me.” he swallowed the lump in the back of his throat as he was about to tell archie about a time when he had hurt topper so bad he had to go to the hospital for many reasons. he still couldn’t recall what had happened that night. and yet for some odd reason, topper was still his best friend to this day minus Y/N, she would be his bestest friend til death do them part.

“once, i got so high that when your uncle topper tried to get me to ease up on the lines and shots and get me to go home, i literally blacked out and beat the living shit out of him. he was hospitalized for two days. i broke two of his ribs, his nose, many lacerations from a beer bottle and a concussion. cocaine, let alone any drug for that matter, is not the answer to anyone’s problems. i would know” he pleaded with archie as rafe’s face scrunched up in hurt as he remembered the aftermath of that fight like it was yesterday.

“b-but, buddy, what’s worse is the night i overdosed on cocaine when i was seventeen years-old, twenty-one years ago. if it weren’t for your mom coming over to find your aunt sarah to do some project for school, i wouldn’t be here right now. it was your fucking mother who found me being delirious and aggressive. i almost hit her because i was so out of my mind. but then before i could do anything, i passed out and went out cold, all while my heart almost stopped beating” rafe croaked out as Y/N continued to rub rafe’s back as this had always been a tough subject to talk about after she had told him she was the one who’d found him that night. he continued again once he cleared his throat, “that night i had done a few extra lines and what i didn’t know at the time was that they were laced with small amounts of fentanyl and that’s why my heart rate was so low. i had to have THREE doses of NAR-CAN archie. and then i went into a 2-day coma” rafe started to cry again, not from the remembrance of that night but to the idea that that could be his boy one day.

“i-i didn’t know that dad” archie stuttered out as he looked down to his lap.

rafe continued, “my dad was so adamant about keeping the fentanyl part private that he paid people off so it wouldn’t ruin his deals. and he scrutinized me for doing drugs. he never asked me why. and sure as hell never really cared about me. i promised myself i would do right by you since my father never could do right by me. so that’s why we’re talking and not judging you for your choices.”

“why did you do it?” archie asked his father the question very few people had ever asked him throughout these 23 years since he’d first been introduced to that drug.

rafe, who’d been taken aback responded with a shake of the head confused, “wait what?”

“why did you start using?”

“um, my mom had died when i was ten and from that point on i wasn’t okay mentally. i didn’t have the love a child needs from their mother, instead i had a greedy, self centered, physically and emotionally abusive, selfish man for a father. he only ever seemed to care more about both of your aunts, money and my step mom, than he did me. he would hardly even look my way. he never truly loved me. so when i got to the kook academy and went to my first party, i was offered a line and took it. it made me feel what i thought was happy but looking back at it i just felt numb. but it was just a way for me to forget about my own shit and past and my emotions. using cocaine allowed me to forget everything that had happened. but with it came hurting others i loved and cared about. which is more important to me than myself. i’d do anything to go back and not get addicted. i hated hurting the ones i loved most. and it took years to build my relationships back up all because of my addiction. addiction is a demon. i’m lucky i got clean. you’re lucky you have us, supportive parents who will be there for you every step of the way” rafe spoke with passion as he looked deep into his boys blue eyes that had resembled his own.

“dad, i’m scared. how do i even get clean? how’d you get clean?”

“baby, archie, i don’t wanna find you like i found your father. that night was the scariest night of my life. i had ptsd from that night and had to go to therapy for a few years due to it. i don’t know if i can do that again, especially if it’s you hunny” Y/N cooed as she leaned forward to caress her boy’s face, pushing back his curtain bangs that resembled his fathers when he was his age.

“arch, it’s okay to be scared. hell, i was so scared when i woke up in the hospital and the doctor told my dad and i that i had overdosed on cocaine and fentanyl. when i heard that i wanted to get clean, but i was so scared. and my father had always told me anytime i showed emotion of any kind, to man up. to not show emotion. that’s what lead me to the drugs in the first place. embrace your emotions bud. even if it means you’re scared. it’s healthier that way.” rafe attempted to explain how he felt about expressing one’s emotions.

prepared to answer the second half of archie’s question rafe took an even breath in and out before he spoke, “i got clean probably the worst and most painful way you can do it. i went cold turkey. which takes a lot of determination. after seeing your aunts so scared, i wanted oh-so badly to get clean. but i was hard on the drug. i had gone to another party one night my senior year of high school, and had just quit two days before, when i met your mom. well i thought that was the first time i’d met her because in reality i had no recollection of the night of my overdose. had no idea your mom was the one who’d saved my life. anywho, i basically felt drawn to her and just being around her and talking to her kept me grounded and in line with what i needed to do. and that was get clean. i couldn’t go to a rehab because then my fathers business partners would’ve heard and his deals would’ve fallen through. so i did it on my own. but archie buddy, if your addiction is as bad as mine was by the time i was sixteen, then i want you to know your mom and i want to put you in rehab. it’s the healthiest and best way to get clean”

“i-i never knew that dad. i-i’m sorry. and mom used to go to parties?” archie frowned, as he tried to lighten the mood just slightly, earning a small chuckle from both of his parents.

“and that’s why i’m telling you bud. and yeah your mom was one hell of a beer pong partner” rafe smirked as he side-eyed his wife Y/N. “but arch, bud, i need to know, how often do you use? i promise i won’t judge you. okay? i’ve been through this same boat years ago. i’m here for you. we’re here for you” rafe cocked an eyebrow up as he questioned his only son.

“every other day sometimes every day. it just depends. i only started doing it after my injury last football season. yah know, when i broke my wrist? i was just so upset and frustrated that i couldn’t play for the rest of the season and then before i knew it, i was addicted i guess” archie huffed out in anger, just like his father used to do all those years ago. just thinking about how easily he got addicted to the drug pissed him off beyond means. the boy just wanted to get clean.

“fuck” rafe sighed as he bent his head down in his large hands. how had he not even noticed the change in archie? why hadn’t he even thought about how that injury could’ve affected him mentally? was it because he’d been working so much? was he just a horrible father like his own dad was? tears began to brim his eyes once again.

“dad, don’t feel bad about this please. it’s not your fault. i already know that you’re thinking you’ve being working too much and that’s why you haven’t noticed. that’s not true. i’ve just been hiding it really well” archie, spoke to his father as tears brimmed his own eyes now.

“i’m trying not to archie. it’s just hard. are you open to going to rehab or not?” rafe questioned as he lifted his head, swallowed his pride, and pushed back his tears to stay strong for archie and Y/N during these hard times. “i just want to express to you buddy, how lucky you are. this is a great opportunity. you’re lucky to have parents who truly care and love you because i never had that after my mom passed. and we both want the best for you” he continued on.

“of course i’ll go” archie quivered out as he looked at both of his parents. he felt so guilty to have put them through such a mess. especially his mother, Y/N, as she’d been through almost losing rafe all those years ago. he couldn’t even imagine the damage that must’ve done to her mentally when she found him. and to think that that could be him next that she found broke his heart to a thousand pieces.

“i-im sorry” the sixteen year-old boy croaked out to his two loving parents as he lunged forward to hug them both.

“we love you too baby, and we’re gonna get you the help you need” Y/N cooed to her little boy as she pecked his head.

“we’ll get you the help i never got, bud, okay? you’re gonna get through this, okay? got it?” rafe asked his son as he held archie’s face in his hands, making eye contact.

“yeah. im a cameron, of course i got this” he chuckled. “us cameron’s are stubborn and can make it through anything. right?” he questioned his father as he looked up at him.

“damn right. i love you archie, and i’m proud of you for taking such a big step. you’re gonna get clean and you’re gonna stay clean” he patted his son’s cheek as the three soaked in the last of their presence’s before archie left for rehab.

rafe sighed with a smile. he knew archie would get better…. after all he is a cameron for christ sake. ‘it’s hard to get rid of them’ he thought to himself as archie left that night for rehab. he smiled to himself because he knew in the end it would all work out. it always did for a cameron.

@slut4drudy @runningfrom2am @maybankslover