#Though i can’t tell if his scared reaction is because of the noise in the background or because his name was said?

[erwinsvow]

𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

summary: rafe's realizing how much better he is now, ever since he met you

word count: 1.6k

now spinning: love song by lana del rey

author's note: can't think about anything else but rafe being happy n content.... eeeee <3

part of this little universe

Rafe’s beginning to think you’re really good for him. 

It starts off pretty small—little things, here and there. The way he doesn’t go to bed completely angry and pent up anymore—that’s because you text him good night, every night, without fail. Even when he doesn’t say it first, even when he’s not on his phone and told you he’d be busy taking care of stuff with his dad all day.

After your first date, when you were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck—licking on an ice cream cone he’d bought you after dinner because the two of you were have a difficult time trying to find a reason to end the night—he opens up his phone to add your number to his contacts, and you hover over his shoulder, choosing little emojis to have next to your name and being very picky about it. 

When you finally decide on the perfect combination, he turns to look at your face, which is way too close to his. He decides then and there that you wanted to be kissed, because you’d never get so close if you didn’t. The truth was that you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from how the little blue heart and butterfly and flowers looked next to your name in his phone, but he doesn’t need to know that, not if he’s going to kiss you like that every time. 

And now whenever he picks up his phone and sees those little blue shapes, he feels better, instantaneously. 

So much so that he doesn’t yell at Wheezie and Sarah so much anymore. That’s another small thing— Rafe can’t even recall what he used to get so annoyed about, so angry that he’d pick fights over it. Sarah’s never home anyways, but when she is, you’re making conversation with her, smiling up at Rafe trying to involve him in the discussion about whatever the hell you guys talk about. 

Wheezie’s always home, and he actually realizes how funny she is, especially with you. He sits on the couch with his laptop, looking at things that you don’t understand and don’t really care about, while Sleepless in Seattle plays on the television.

You and Wheezie sit next to each other, half-eaten popcorn and candy scattered between you two, a box of tissues within reach because you told her they were absolutely necessary, even though she didn’t believe you.

Rafe only looks up when hears the unmistakable sound of you sniffling and crying—panicking briefly, trying to make sure he handles this correctly, properly, so he doesn’t scare you away—when he realizes it’s just the movie. 

He lets out a sigh of relief, of which you take note. You turn to hand Wheezie a tissue and then look back at Rafe, worried he’s going to be annoyed that you’re crying over this movie.

It’s silly, because he’s been nothing but nice to you, sweet as sugar all the time, but you remember what your friends used to tell you, the back-and-forth with Sarah, Wheezie’s comments about how much nicer Rafe’s been recently. How he’s been nicer since he met you. You look at him for a little, seconds passing by as your heart thuds in your chest. 

“I can’t believe this-” you hear Wheezie sob in the background, reaching for another handful of popcorn. “They just left!”

You almost turn away from Rafe just then, not wanting to see his reaction, when he closes his laptop and slides his body over to sit closer to you, one hand around your shoulder pulling you close and the other reaching to grab a clean tissue, holding it in his hand for you, for when you need it. You smile against his chest, clasping your hand around his. 

“You really cry over this crap, kid?” You whine, a muffled noise of protest spoken against his shirt, half-hearted. “We all knew they were gonna end up together.”

“Yeah, I guess we did,” you murmur, not paying attention to the movie anymore, eyes hyper-focused on the shiny metal of Rafe’s ring on his fingers. 

“Shut up, Rafe, I’m watching this-”

“You shut up, Wheeze, and pass the chocolate.”

It’s become a regular occurrence, actually, having you around at Tannyhill. You go through plenty of movies with Wheezie, occupying her time while getting to be with Rafe. You join them for their periodic family dinners, dolled up in your nicest clothes even though Rafe tells you it doesn’t matter. He wants you down there in his hoodie, but you refuse.

You want to make a good impression on Ward, you tell him, that it’s important to you if his dad likes you, if he approves of you, if he likes having you around. Rafe doesn’t get why you care—you’ll still be in his life whether Ward approves or not—but he plays along with it.

You wear pretty blue dresses and bring chapter books from the library for Wheezie and some history novels for his dad. You’re all smiles and conversation at their normally silent table, which he thinks is nice. Rafe still believes it would be nicer if it was just the two of you, but he doesn’t say anything. 

A picture constructs itself in his head—you and him at the dinner table of your house, the house you two will have together. You’d decorate everything all cute—he can picture it now—but he’s really focusing on when you and he can have these family dinners together, a couple of high chairs and pureed food and screaming toddlers running around. He doesn’t know where the image came from, probably from the sweet way you are with his family, but now it’s rooted itself like an infection that’s impossible to get rid of. He thinks of it, and feels better, and it must be obvious to everyone around him, but you never say anything.

It’s gotten to the point where even Ward notices it, though he refrained from commenting for as long as he could. Besides for dinner and the occasional Good morning sweetheart when you’re passing through the kitchen with Rafe, he doesn’t bother you two much. 

That’s why it really surprises Rafe when he brings you up one day.

“You seem… better, son,” his father says, and he wants to summon up some kind of retort to fire back, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe the impact you have on him is bigger than he thought. “It’s good. She’s good for you. Make sure you take care of her.”

He thinks for a second. There was a time where the first thing out of his mouth would be Don’t tell me how to treat my girl. 

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, dad.”

And then, suddenly, you’re everywhere, a part of everything. He can’t even sit in his truck without thinking of how you should be in the passenger seat. His house feels empty when you’re not curled on the couch trying to decide on what movie to rewatch for the millionth time. He can’t even find any insults for your stupid Pogue friends, because of course they want to spend time with you, when you make everything brighter like this. 

Rafe used to think it’d be humiliating to feel like this, actually being dependent on someone for once, acting and doing better because of you and feeling better even when you’re not there. He doesn’t feel humiliated at all though, he feels surprisingly content, despite everything that’s going on. It’s all background noise now. He feels even better when his door opens, and you make your way into his bedroom.

“Hey,” you say, setting down your bag on his desk. It lands with a thud, probably filled with your current read and another couple of books for his sister. “They all went down to the Chateau to smoke, so I just came over, I hope that’s okay-” You stop talking when you turn and see how he’s looking at you, getting up from his bed to walk up to you. “Rafe? You okay?”

You look at him real sweet, like you’re wondering what could be wrong and how you can help fix it. It’s precious, but he already knew that. His father’s words run through his head again—he has to make sure to take good care of you. 

“Perfect. Even better ‘cause you’re here now.” You shove your hand against his chest, letting out a breath of relief.

“You scared me,” you say with a laugh. You go back to your bag, rustling through it to produce three books, just like he guessed. He starts smiling when you turn around to offer it to him.

“Got one for you this time.” You're beaming, eyes looking at him expectantly.

“Thanks, kid,” he says, and he can’t help the smile that’s growing. He brings you in for a hug the way he always does, arm around your shoulder and guiding you to his chest, and you lean against him like that, holding on tight, breathing steady in his grip. Whatever anger and frustration was bubbling inside melts away with every passing second of touching your soft skin and smelling the scent of your hair. 

It’s no surprise when you two end up a tangled mess in bed hours later, your head resting above his heart, wrapped in his grip, while you start reading the book you got for Rafe aloud.

“Y’know what we should do?” he starts, quietly, interrupting you while you’re flipping to the next page. 

“Hm?” you murmur back, feeling your eyes fluttering shut without the book open and ready to read to distract you into staying awake. Rafe’s skin is warm and his grip is tight. You could fall asleep in seconds right now.

“Get married.”

#self indulgent?????/ it's my new middle name #i hope everyone likes i feel like everyone wanted more of this rafe! #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx

[farfromstrange]

Daddy Issues | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Inspired by this song.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: There are some scars from our childhoods that just won't heal, like daddy issues will somehow always affect our relationships, especially with men. It's the trauma that makes us afraid. Matt Murdock is a considerate boyfriend and he hardly ever raises his voice, so when he lets his anger out on you, he triggers something in you that you have never told him about.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), childhood trauma, yelling, crying, small injury (reader cuts her finger), not proofread

A/n: This is entirely self-indulgent. I won't tell you why exactly, but let's just say today was not a good day and I needed to write this to feel better. It helped, for the most part. If you have/had a father who yells a lot and likes to blame you for everything, this is for you. But also basically everyone who's afraid of men yelling at you because you've been traumatized before. This has not been proofread or beta-d. It’s just a silly little comfort fic.

Tags: (people who answered the original idea and I think would enjoy this or asked to be tagged)

@igotanidea @lina-mar @redzie02 @hellskitchens-whore

[not my gif, credits to the owner mentioned under the gif]

In the heat of the moment, some people raise their voices. May it be a fight or a moment of excitement. When we get angry, we often resort to a louder volume and sometimes even verbal abuse. We say things we don’t mean. We wouldn’t be human if that didn’t happen sometimes, although most fights can be resolved by talking civilly. There is no point in screaming when talking like adults is a viable option that won’t hurt anyone. But it hardly ever happens, not when both parties are already worked up to the point of no return.

For you, there has not been a fight or discussion in your life that hasn’t resulted in a screaming match. Your parents often yelled at each other. You grew up like this, the voices of your fighting parents constantly in the back of your head until the day they divorced. And even after that, you figure you started hallucinating their fights whenever the world went quiet around you so you would have some noise in the back of your head.

Your father was the one who screamed the most. He yelled and scolded you whenever you didn’t act according to his standards or made even the smallest of mistakes, didn’t do something or just used the wrong tone with him, something that often didn’t sit right with him.

He always resorted to screaming. The context never really mattered, he just got louder, harsher and he used words that would confuse every kid and make their tiny brains overflow with the guilt they caused. And when you cried, he only waved it off because “there is no reason to cry, I’m just stating the facts”.

It traumatized you in a way many children who grew up in such families understand, and he made you believe that every man in your life has a reason to yell at you, to use you, to abuse you and constantly ask you for things even though you can’t possibly match up to all of their expectations.

You always expect to be yelled at by the men in your life. Even the smallest hint of the disappointment in someone’s voice makes you anxious and more often than not, you start to cry. It’s your defense mechanism. You’re fragile and you get scared easily. A switch gets flicked and you’re suddenly standing in the same house you grew up in, letting your father rain hell down on you because you were too scared to fight back.

The constant screaming made you scared of men, and it made you more careful with what you say or do around others. You tread carefully. You try to please and not to screw up too much, too scared of the consequences and possible negative reactions. In school, you used to do the same, always wanting to please the teachers and when they raised their voices, you often excused yourself and were left shaking and crying in the bathroom. 

Matt Murdock has always been a man with a heavy internal conflict, and that conflict resulted in anger issues and his ever-present catholic guilt. When you met him, he came across as attractive yet dominant, and that scared you a little until you talked for the first time in the middle of a cozy coffee shop and he showed how soft of a man he actually is. He keeps himself locked away and that might make him seem unapproachable, but he isn’t. He’s the kindest man you have ever met, and his heart is set right. Out of all the lovers you’ve had, he is truly the best and most considerate when it comes to your relationship.

He treats you like you’re the universe to him and when you fight, it’s more often bickering than it is an exchange of vulgarities and screams. He takes his anger out on punching bags, not you, and when he hurts someone, it’s often criminals who deserve his wrath. His life is complicated, but it’s easier with you in it. He feels alive, he’s told you, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world, so he always makes sure you’re taken care of and happy before he looks after himself.

There is, of course, the issue with his enhanced senses. He’s blind but his senses are enhanced to an extent that most blind people don’t have. You found out about that early on in your relationship, but there’s never been a doubt in your mind about the love you feel for him, so it was no hard choice to stay.

Though dating the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its collection of issues. More often than not you have to stitch him up or search him in dark alleys and trash cans because he keeps getting in trouble, and the worry often eats you alive. Still, you comfort him when he’s had a bad day, always, and you make him the spotlight of your life every time. In your mind, taking care of him comes first.

But Matt always gives back. It’s his Catholicism, you’re sure of that. He can’t take help. He has to be the one doing the work and moving mountains. He is God’s disciple and he feels responsible for his city and the people living in it. His blindness feels like a gift given to him by God to conquer all possible battles, and while you don’t really believe in God, you have accepted that part of him with open arms and more often than not join him in his faith because life with him is surely not the easiest.

When Matt Murdock feels overwhelmed, he tries not to show it. He’d rather lock himself away than burden you. He’d rather struggle on his own than put the people he loves in danger or hurt them with his personal struggles and the pain that consumes him.

Matt is patient and he doesn’t care if you screw up, even though you apologize profusely most of the time. He’s patient because we’re all human. We all screw up. That is the principle that he lives by and he makes you feel like you can be more of yourself around him. So after a year, there are no more reservations and you feel a lot more comfortable in your skin.

Until this day, he had never let his anger out on you, and he had never opened his mouth to yell at you in any way. Until that day.

He’s different when he comes home. He finds himself at his wit's end, and he has been ever since that godforsaken murder trial started. When he comes home, you don’t think much of his distance toward you, the denial of a proper kiss, and his grunts as he lowers himself on the couch instead of asking you about your day. You don’t think much until it all goes wrong, and you’re not even sure at what point it does or what you did to deserve this, but there has to be a reason because the man you’re seeing right now is not the Matt you usually get to see.

We all have bad days sometimes, others more often, but this seems deeper than just a bad day at the courthouse. This is not the face of an exhausted man after a long work day that just needs some kisses and maybe a blowjob, or to have sex with his girlfriend in all his dominant glory with aftercare to put the cherry on top. This is not Matt Murdock, this is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that comes through the front door, tosses his cane into a corner, and then just falls on the couch like a wet sack of potatoes, his fists clenched as if he is ready to explode any second.

You’ve been taught to tread carefully, so you do. You approach him only slowly because you are worried, you always are. Perhaps it’s the line of questioning that has him exploding in no time.

“You okay?” you ask.

He props his feet up on the living room table and huffs. “Fine,” he says.

“You don’t look fine. Did something happen?”

You’ve brought him a glass of water, which he takes with a curt nod. Something is bothering him, but he won’t talk to you.

“Bad day at work?”

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m fine. I just want to forget that today ever happened.”

“You want some coffee?” you decide to ask instead.

“No,” he says.

His leg starts to bounce. It only does when he is agitated or overstimulated and is trying to deal with the world around him. 

“Do you want me to run you a bath?”

He sighs. “No.”

“We still have leftovers, maybe I could warm them up.”

His tone is harsher this time, “No!”

You blink, a little taken aback by the force in his voice and involuntarily, you start to shake.

“I just want to be alone,” he adds, softer this time. “Can you… you know what, I’m just gonna get changed.”

And like that, he is gone. He disappears into the bedroom and you’re left flabbergasted. You want to ask what’s wrong, but you’re scared. You’ve never been scared of him before. It’s not him, it’s his reaction, and so you retreat into the kitchen. 

Eventually, he comes out again, though he is still missing a shirt. “Have you seen my Columbia sweater?” he asks, the lights of the billboard reflecting off his marble skin. 

“It’s in the washer,” you tell him.

“Why?”

“Because it’s dirty. Matt, what is going on?” You place your mug down and look at him, eyes soft and full of concern.

He only rolls his. “I just want my sweater.” Grabbing the used shirt from the chair at the dinner table, he slips it on. It’s not the fabric he wanted and he tenses up, hating the new sensation already.

“Are you sure this is about your sweater? You’ve been on me ever since you got in.”

“Yes, because you keep asking useless questions.”

“Useless?” You scoff. “So my interest and worry for you are useless?” 

If there is one thing you have gotten good at it has to be defending yourself.

He brushes past you to get a beer from the fridge. “I told you, I’m fine.” He is good at brushing you off because he doesn’t like to admit when he feels weaker than usual.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Oh, my God, then stop fucking looking!”

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?”

He scoffs. “You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?”

“Everything.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“It’s not…” his chuckle is bitter. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re gonna keep seeing problems where there are none, so talking to you makes no sense anyway.”

What did he just say? You are so confused and suddenly very angry that you forget you are holding a glass. You smash it down on the counter, and, as expected, it shatters into a million pieces. Most of them fall to the floor and right at his bare feet. His eyes darken.

Oh.

Now you are scared, and not in a way that resembles sexy foreplay. You are scared because he is turning into a stranger right before your eyes. Suddenly, all you can see is not your loving boyfriend Matt Murdock, you see the anger of both your father and your stepfather in his eyes and hear it in his voice and it instantly tells you, 'this is all your fault'.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t see…”

“One night,” he says. He moves out of the kitchen, trying not to step into the glass.

You follow him with wide eyes. “What’s that?” 

“One night,” he repeats his earlier statement. “That’s all I wanted. One fucking night where people don’t prod or- or want things from me. And what do you do? You keep talking and talking, and you don’t even care that I simply don’t want to talk.”

“Matt, that is not fair. I just wanted to-“ the tears start to prick in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus Christ.” And that’s where your strength stops and you retreat into your shell – the next words out of his mouth come so loud, you could have sworn they echoed off the brick walls and shot straight into your eardrums. “For once in your life, stop fucking apologizing!” 

His hand lifts, mostly to underline his words, and with the bottle in his hand he is suddenly so close, your eyes squeeze shut at the gush of wind. You flinch, your entire body caving in on itself. It’s not even intentional, you can’t help it. You’ve been conditioned to expect the worst when someone raises their hand, and Matt has never done it before. 

He realizes what it looks like the second your heart jumps and your blood rushes loudly in his ear. He can smell your sweat, the tears, and the fear that surrounds you. It’s your pheromones that change and something lingers in the air that makes him stop and think, what did I just do? 

He has been so in his head and the city has been loud for hours, he lost most of his patience at the courthouse, and then you’re there all caring and lovely and he can’t help but tell himself he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you. He just wants quiet and to be alone while at the same time, all he wants is you, but it’s too much. It’s all too much.

And now, as you flinch away from him and his booming voice, he snaps back to reality and realizes he made a mistake. He’s never experienced you like this before, and it scares him. 

“Did you just…” he begins, his voice soft and barely above a whisper.

He hears you fall to your knees, the taste of salt thick in the air and your breath shakes with every intake. You bite your lip and you collect the shards, trying to clean up your mess as if he would hate you if you didn’t. You whisper a silent, “Sorry.” And then he hears it. You’re sobbing, you try not to but you are, and it is his fault.

“Did you think I was gonna hit you?” he asks, dreading the answer.

You sniffle, not answering.

You flinched, he heard it, and not because you were surprised. You are scared, he knows. 

He slowly approaches the kitchen. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“I just gotta clean this up,” you whimper and you brush the glass together with shaky hands. The tears are running down your cheeks in thick streams and your teeth have gnawed your bottom lip bloody, your throat dry with the denied sobs.

“I just gotta clean this up and then I can make you dinner or something. I don’t… I can fix this. I’ll fix this. I’m sorry.”

It’s your fault, you tell yourself. You pushed him. You deserve this. He worked hard the entire day and you annoyed him. He has every right to do this. In your head, at least. It makes all sense in your head while in reality, Matt has never been more shocked to read your body language than he is now.

He slowly kneels in front of you. “Answer me this,” he says, “did you flinch because you thought I was gonna hit you or because I yelled?”

You shrug, unable to look at him. One of the shards slides across your finger and you hiss, the smallest cut forming and causing blood to pool out of your skin. Still, you don’t stop. You need to clean this up before he gets even angrier at you. In your state, you don’t realize his voice has softened and he no longer stares at you with those blacked-out eyes. He looks sympathetic, almost, but most of all the guilt has spread throughout his features and his heart. He is aching to touch you, but you are scared and shaking and he doesn’t want to hurt you any further than he already has.

He had been so ignorant that he didn’t see the signs before.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again.

You wipe your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. It’s my fault,” you say. “I’ll clean this up, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Hey.”

“No, I gotta-”

“Stop.” His hand is on your arm then. “You cut yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s a mantra you’ve taught yourself to say in the hopes you could somehow fix this before it’s too late.

But it’s not too late. When you finally look up, he’s smiling softly, and his thumb is stroking over your skin in circles. 

“I’m sorry,” it’s his turn to say it. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. None of this is your fault. I was so caught up in my own shit, I… God, I would never hit you. I just- I didn’t think when I raised my hand. I didn’t think what it might look like to you. And I didn’t think when I yelled because I… in my head, I wasn’t thinking.”

Your facade cracks even more to the point you are seethrough and your defenses have fallen completely. You’re a snotty mess, shaking violently in his grasp. 

“I’m trying, I swear I’m trying to be better. Just don’t be angry with me,” your voice is bordering on helpless little sobs, your lips turned downward and God, you are shaking so badly, you haven’t done so since the last fight with your father when you were a teenager. 

Matt’s face softens even more, but there is a pain in there too. He takes a paper towel to wrap around your injured finger and he holds your hand, not sure if he is allowed to touch anywhere else, but he wants you to know he is here and he is going nowhere. He is neither mad nor is he going to break up with you. You try to tell yourself that, but it’s hard with the demon in your head whispering all those awful things into your ear, reminding you that everything bad that happens can only be your fault and that there is no use for you but to destroy and disappoint. But you don’t want to disappoint, you want him to be proud of you. You want him to hold you and tell you everything is alright. But you’re scared and you feel so stupidly guilty for something you can’t even put a finger on. Your bleeding finger.

“Angry with you?” he says. “No.” Matt chuckles, but it’s broken and almost whiny as he does so. “I’m not angry at you, bug. Of course not. I was just angry with the world. I was angry at everything else, but not you. I’m not angry at you. I couldn’t possibly be. I’m sorry, it wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you. I realize that now. And the glass…” he forces you away from the chaos gently, helping you stand up without hurting yourself further. “It’s just glass,” he tells you. “I’ll clean it up. There’s nothing bad about breaking something.”

“But the mess,” you say. 

“Fuck the mess. The whole apartment’s a mess.”

“I’m so sorry! I can clean it. I can clean up, I promise. I just… I’m so sorry, Matt.”

“Stop apologizing, baby, please. The mess doesn’t matter. The apartment doesn’t matter, and the glass does not fucking matter. None of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything but try to help. I had no right to yell at you. And my hand… I would never hit you. Never.” He squeezes your hand. “I love you.”

You hiccup, whimpering when he pulls you away from the glass on the floor and pulls you into his arms. His chin rests on the crown of your head and you mold into him, the tears taking on new speed and wetting through his shirt. He strokes your back, not sure what else to do, and his lips find your temple. “God, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, none of that.”

You cling tighter to him. 

He keeps asking himself the same question over and over again. “Who hurt you?” he asks. It’s a valid question. A fear like that doesn’t just stem from nothing. Something happened in the past to have traumatized you this badly. 

Your breathing eventually slows down, as do your tears, and you look up at him through swollen eyes. His white shirt is wet now, but he doesn’t care, he only hugs you back to his chest. “My father used to yell at me whenever I did something wrong,” you tell him, your voice muffled through his chest, but he understands every word. 

His grip tightens. “Did he hit you?”

“Sometimes, but… I remember that one time I forgot to clean up after myself and he just… he…” The lack of oxygen makes you shudder and you hiccup again, nails digging into his back. “I’m sorry, he just… yelled at me. Sometimes, he’d slap me, but only sometimes. He’d threaten most of the time, but he didn’t do it often. And I mean, I was a hard kid to raise, I-“

“No, don’t blame yourself,” he is quick to cut you off. “You were a kid.”

You shudder again. “Well, I… you know, he blamed me for the smallest of things, so I got used to apologizing and trying to please everyone, but I can’t always do that. I try to fix things, but it doesn’t always work. He used to yell at me every damn time and I just… I get scared. I don’t like it when people raise their voices. It makes me feel so guilty and now I even broke a glass. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have… you had a bad day, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry like this. I swear I’m not a baby.”

You move away to rub your eyes. He grabs your face, smoothing the pads of his thumbs over your wet cheeks. The heat has pooled under the skin in an upset blush. 

“Don’t apologize,” he says. “It’s okay to cry. If I’d known, baby, I…” Matt can only shake his head in disbelief.

He loves you more than anything and to see you hurting because of something another man did to you, a man who is supposed to protect you, makes him feel all kinds of things, but none of them positive. 

But his anger doesn’t matter. This is about you. He has to take care of you now, not himself, and definitely not your father. It’s just you on his mind.

You choke on nothing. “He told me I have no reason to cry because he’s just stating facts.”

Matt clicks his tongue. “No, don’t ever think that again. You have every right to cry when you feel the need to.”

“It makes me weak,” you say.

“Your father’s wrong. You’re the strongest person I know,” he says. “And the fact that he yelled at you and blamed you for things that were out of your control… no one has the right to treat you like that, not even your parents, and he should have never even thought about raising his hand against you. That’s abuse. I can’t believe- fuck! Do you understand that it wasn’t your fault? That he had no right to do that?”

“Yes, but… it happened. Maybe I deserved some of those slaps. I mean you… I- I don’t know. It happened, we can’t change it. And who knows, maybe he was right.”

“Stop it! That’s not true and you know it.”

“I know, but-“

“No buts, sweetheart. I would never raise my hand against you, I promise. I’m not like your father. No one should be like him. You deserve so much better.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you sniffle, “it was just instinct.”

“Shh,” Matt kisses you gently, “I know. It’s like me dodging punches in a fight. It’s a defense mechanism. Your father, I… you’ve never said anything. I would’ve never suspected this.”

“‘Cause I didn’t think it was important. This never happened before. You never yelled before.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You should have told me,” he says. “It’s important to me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. I want you to feel comfortable around me, not scared.”

You nod. “And I am, really, it’s just… I thought I did something wrong.”

His smile is soft when he leans in to kiss you again, tasting the tears on your lips. “You didn’t. I let my anger out on you for no reason. You didn’t deserve that. It won’t happen again, I promise,” and he dives right back in. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, relaxing in his arms as his lips move against yours with sweet precision, making you feel lightheaded. He scared you, that much is true, but it was neither you nor his fault and you realize that now, safe in his arms as he proves his devotion to you with a single breath into your mouth. With his gentle touch around your waist he promises never to hurt you, never to let his anger out on you again, and he promises that he will drive himself to hell personally if he ever scares you like that again because he couldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to you because of him. He couldn’t live with himself if he broke your heart or triggered the trauma you brought into the relationship from your broken childhood, and he promises that he will never leave you, never put you second and always hold you when times get hard because people screw up, bad things happen, and you might be at fault sometimes, but so is he and there is no reason to be put down for being human. He wants to teach you that, he wants to help you heal yourself, and you have never felt more in love than at that moment, losing yourself in his lips, eyes and arms.

He breaks the kiss, moving on to your forehead. “If there is anything else I need to know,” he breathes hotly against your already heated skin, and the exhaustion slowly starts to seep into your bones as the shakes and tension subside from your bones, “please tell me before I make another mistake that might trigger you.”

You take in a deep breath, shaking your head. “There is not much else. My childhood wasn’t the best, but that’s okay,” you say. 

He brushes his knuckles over your cheekbone. “Bad enough. Promise you’ll tell me if something else might come up?” He resembles a puppy as he tries to meet your eyes, but he fails miserably.

So you promise him, “Okay.”

“Can you forgive me for yelling?”

Your tears have finally come to a halt. “Yes,” you say. 

“Thank you.”

Your eyes fall on the mess on the kitchen floor again and you go to grab the broom. Matt’s arm around your frame stop you and he gently pushes you out of the kitchen. “Let me clean it up,” he says. “Put a bandaid on your finger and then go lie down. I’ll deal with it.”

“No, I broke it. Please, Matt, let me do this.”

“Not everything is your fault, sweetheart. Besides, you already cut yourself once and with how you’re shaking, the next time you accidentally cut yourself I’m sure you’re gonna cause more damage.”

“But I-”

“Go to bed,” he insists, “I’ll be there in a second and then we’ll cuddle so you know I’m serious when I say that I love you more than life itself.”

The weight and guilt fall off your heart. “I love you,” you tell him. “More than life itself, too.”

It’s not a lie. If there is anything or anyone you love, it’s him, and you’ve never been this in love with anyone before. It’s sickening to the point it hurts, but the pain is sweet and it’s all worth it because with Matt, you can be yourself. 

The past matters just a little less with someone who loves you right by your side, and he would never give up on you like everyone else did before him. 

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #gender neutral reader #matt murdock imagines #marvel #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #mentions of child abuse #hurt/comfort #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic #daddy issues (but not the sexy kind)

[scremogirl]

HII LOVE UR WRITING,, MAY I REQUEST (if no, pls ignore! :')

so theres this thing i do,,, as a clingy partner,, was wondering how ur yanyans will react?

Whenever reader wants some quiet quality type, they sit on the floor near where yandere's chair is, and lays their head on their lap and js continue scrolling on their phone...yanderes reactions??

★♑︎☆彡𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎✪𝐍!☆♏︎★

How my yans react to you putting your head in their laps

GN! Reader, ❤︎︎!!! Your words are in italics theirs are in bold. Check out their stories here ✩ ✰ 𖤐. I LOVE U FOR THIS ANON(•̀ᴗ•́)و

𝐓akenya

✩Does not know what to do

✩Literally will freeze like a deer in headlights when you show him any kind of affection.

✩Wants it so bad though!

✩Will act slightly like a tsundere if you call him out on how much he’s blushing

☆The head in the lap thing tho? You’re actually trynna kill him

He’s yet again invited you over under the guise of a study session. You knew this because A, you're not stupid and B, you’ve finished your work for the week. It was Friday and you had nothing better to do, so why not? The chance to lay in his large bed plus free snacks and fast internet? The chance was too good to give up. So here you are. Splayed out in his bed as he sits hunched over his desk to engrossed in his studies. You’re kinda scared he’ll get scoliosis from how long he’s been in that position. It��s been about an hour and some change since you’ve been here and you’re starting to get bored. And hungry. Your stomach growling over the video playing on your phone was enough to get you up and moving.

You call out to him and in an instant he drops the pen in his hand and turns all his attention to you. Before you get to tell him why you interrupted him so abruptly, your stomach answers for you. With a teasing smile it clicks in his head what you were gonna ask him and he asks you to grab some of those disgusting kale chips he likes on his way up. His house is basically a maze so you have enough time to think about the many ways you could clear your boredom.

Finally arriving at the kitchen you grab a handful of snacks and wave at the butler who's already stocked up once he learned of your arrival. This dude is loaded so he won’t miss anything, besides he got ‘em for you anyways. Speak of the devil, he hasn’t paid attention to you not once since you got here, it was his idea in the first place! Making your way upstairs you finally decide on the perfect way to clear that thought.

Handing him his snack of choice he thanks you before immediately returning back to work. However, he doesn’t get through much as he notices you haven’t moved. He’s about to ask what you're up to before you drop down to your knees and place your head in his lap.

“He-hey! What’re you doing? I can’t work like this,” you ignore him completely before whipping out your phone and opening your bag of chips. He’s about to continue his questioning when you raise your arm up and hover a chip close to his lips. He shakes his head to the other side but as soon as you see it snap back you shove it past his soft lips. You make sure to press down on his tongue just a little before pulling back and whipping the remaining saliva in his lips.

“Shut up,”

Not another word was spoken from him the rest of the day. You could feel his bulge against your head but didn’t pay it any mind. Who knows, maybe if he finishes fast enough you’ll finally get the attention you wanted.

𝐌icah

✰A common occurrence between the two of you tbh

✰It’s usually from him but he obviously doesn’t mind being on the receiving end; prefers it actually.

✰Can actually be quiet for once. He just loves to sit in the silence of such an intimate moment.

✰You on the other hand just wanted a comfortable place to take a nap.

“(Y/nnnnnn), I’m boreddd,” jeez can this guy exist without making noise. It’s not nothing you didn’t expect though, that’s just Micah is. You’ve known him too long to be annoyed by things like this so you just sigh.

“Put on a movie or something,” you don’t give him the. You don’t even give him the courtesy of eye contact seeing as they're closed. The bags under your eyes and slug of your shoulders as you lay down on the couch don’t go unnoticed. Yes! The perfect excuse for a cuddle session. Rising from his spit across from you he moves his way over to the kitchen, not forgetting to hand you the remote first already knowing he’d probably spend 10 min just looking for a good watch. Opting for YouTube instead you quickly put on some random try not to laugh in order to provide you some stimulation, resisting the cusps of sleep. Your eyes shift to the soft snow falling past the window, the cold not helping as you snuggle deeper into your blanket making you even more tired.

He returns with some hot cocoa and cookies as he takes a new spot next to you. You sit up and take the surgery treats as your eyes refocus onto the screen. His eyes stay on you though, enchanted at the thought of you. Ever since you were kids he knew he was gonna make you his and nobody would get in the way of that m. Not even you.

Too absorbed in la la land he fails to notice that you’ve already chugged down your drink and eaten your full of the cookies. He only snaps out of it when he feels pressure on his shoulders. As he lets you lay him down on the couch, he’s watching as you readjust the blanket to cover your whole body. You scoot your body down and lay your head on his lap snuggling closer into his warmth. Smoothing his hand through your hair (or scratching your back if your hair’s too short/thick) he listens to your breathing become more even. So happy that his sweet little angel finally catches some z’s.

𝐌iylo

✫I really CANT decide if he or Micah like it more.

𖤐The thing is with Micah, he’s been able to have his hands on you for years so he’s more used to affection.

𖤐Miylo on the other hand, before you “truly noticed” him has only ever been close enough as sharing a desk with you. There was that time when he had to help you out of a sticky situation(insert anon of him helping you become unstuck), but other than that he’s never felt your skin. (Besides the time he broke into your house and wacked his shit to your sleeping face before stealing your underwear (●’◡’●)ﾉ )

𖤐After you got over the fact that he wouldn’t leave you alone/became popular, he will never stop touching you

𖤐Putting your head in his lap is only sending yourself down into a long rabbit hole

You’ve been putting off this project for god knows how long. Being in various different clubs, applying for colleges, and the stress from your parents did no good for your health; physical or mental. The student council have all been divided for the purpose of a fundraiser you’re putting on for donations to various types of charity’s. You got satlled with the easiest so you couldn’t be to mad but the exhaustion from life was killing you.

“Finally! Now I can finally get some rest,” Christ, if you knew being apart the council gave you this much work you would’ve opted for something more functional. You hear a chuckle from beside you. Oh right… he’s here too. He wouldn’t stop bombarding you with his assistance, saying that “two heads are better than one,”. Luckily, you were able to block him out for most of this project but now you can’t. There’s only so much about his rambles on quantum theory and the newest Spider-Man movie you can take. What a fucking nerd. No matter though, all you're worried about is flopping down and living in your own world for a while and he wouldn’t stop you from that. He tries to say something but you're not having any of it.

Grabbing him by the tie, you yank him towards you. You feel just a little bad for how aggressive you were but knowing him he probably likes it. The blush in his cheeks and rubbing of his thighs only emphasizes your point.

“Listen close, all I want is to lay down and not have to worry about anything. So do me a favor and shut your mouth for a while and read a book or something; got it?” The nod you receive from him is timid but filled with obedience, that makes you smile a bit. You reach up and pay his head a little “Good boy,”

You shift him so he’s sitting up straight and shove his discarded book in his hands before laying down with your head in his lap. He’s frozen and shaking slightly but you don’t care. He realizes that and snaps back into himself probably realizing he won’t get you to be so willing to touch him next time. Getting comfortable he decides that maybe you wouldn’t mind him reading to you. And you don’t. His voice doing justice as you rest your eyes and continue to listen to the story.

Y’all I am so mad because I was writing in tumbler and my phone shut off and all my shit got deleted. I had to re-write Kenya's whole part and deleted most of the earth. N E WAYZ hope this what you asked for my love, ENJOY( ˘ ³˘)♥︎!!!

-Sos ❤️

#💕 anon #yandere! nerd x reader #yandere student council president #yandere childhood friend #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #★♑︎☆彡𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎✪𝐍!☆♏︎★

[keanureevesisbae]

August Walker x fem!reader 

Summary: August Walker's daughter has been born. There is

Wordcount: 0.6k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and child birth.

A/N: The weirdest thing has happened: I have baby fever. Me, the girl who has been saying since she was four that she never wants kids. I don't know what happened, but anyway: here is a little piece of August becoming a parent.

He almost deemed it impossible to get himself into that room. He leans against the wall, taking in one deep breath after another. He had been waiting for this moment the second they found out, but now it’s here, it’s different. 

In that room is his girlfriend waiting, holding their baby. The one they created. He can’t seem to wrap his mind around the fact he is officially a dad now.

August Walker is a father. 

She never expressed a need for having kids, but that was expectable. They were only dating for around six months when she discovered she was pregnant.

But she was absolutely ecstatic. 

He was scared, but could find peace and happiness. In the months ahead of him, he could get used to him being a dad.

Then he was a dad in theory. Now he truly was one. A dad. A father. 

In that room not only his girlfriend is waiting for him, but also a little baby.

Maybe it’s even harder to get himself in that room, because he wasn’t there when she needed him the most. He hopes she would understand, that he was stuck at work and then in traffic.

But maybe he’s too optimistic about her reaction.

August pushes himself from the wall, wanting to make his way over to the room, when he hears her soft voice. 

‘Hi little one,’ she says, causing him to halt his step. ‘Your dad will be here any minute now. I know you will absolutely love him. I know I love him dearly.’ She lets out a deep sigh. ‘I hope he is able to get over his fear. He puts on a brave face, but he often times second guesses himself, thinking he is going to be a bad father. But he showed me he is excellent dad material. August already took such good care of us before you were even here.’

A tiny little noise leaves the baby’s lips and August clenches his jaw, as he balls his hands into fists. 

Why is it so hard to go in?

‘He’ll be here.’

He can hear the desperation in her voice. She’s not telling it to the baby, but to herself. 

Instead of standing outside the room, he should go in and be there for her. 

It’s the least he can do. 

August walks in and she looks up instantly. Her fatigue immediately disappears as she smiles widely once her eyes land on him.

‘Hi,’ she says, ushering him over. ‘It’s okay.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

She shakes her head. ‘Don’t be sorry. You're here now. Come here.’ She holds out her hand and he walks up to her. There are a million things he wants to say to her, apologies and what not, but once he holds her hand and sits on the side of the bed, that is all forgotten.

He looks at the dainty baby in her arms, eyes opened as they are taking in the world. 

‘You have a daughter, August,’ she says. 

He hesitates, but she picks up on it straight away. She places their daughter in his arms and the second he holds her close, August can finally let out that smile he knew was there deep down.

He has never been happier and is finally able to push those anxious thoughts aside, knowing they’ll creep up on him when he least expect it. But he has her by his side, the love of his life and though it will not be easy, he is ready to take on this challenge.

She pecks his cheek and whispers: ‘You look like a natural.’ She curls up next to him and sighs deeply. ‘I love you.’

August smiles. ‘I love you. Both of you.’ With all his heart.

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

Taglist: @diegos-butt // @cherry-gemz // @crazybutconfidentaf // @sillyrabbit81 // @thelastsock // @enchantedbytomandhenry // @lyrarodriguez // @islacharlotte // @summersong69 // @sunshine96love // @oddsnendsfanfics // @gearhead66 // @xobriellaxo24 // @xuxszx // @liecastillo // @sofiebstar // @eldarwen333 // @omgkatinka // @abschaffer2 // @pterodactylterrace // @kebabgirl67 // @peaches1958 // @pandaxnienke

#henry cavill #henry cavill one shot #august walker #august walker one shot #august walker x reader #august walker x female reader #dad!august walker #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic

[daisybell17]

Pov: Loki gets hurt late at night

(warning: angst)

You swear that anyone who claims to be a morning person is lying to themselves. I mean how the hell do they possibly get up so ridiculously early and somehow be in bed by 8? You’ve tried many times to be a morning person and adapt this new routine into your life but it was genuinely impossible. Steve Rogers was probably the only many you knew who could get up that damn early.

But no bother, Steve does his thing, you do yours. So it’s no surprise you found yourself sipping on a hot glass of tea in the dead of night, 4 am to be specific, by the balcony area of the shared kitchen quarters. Yea it’s quite late but it’s really the only time you’ve known peace. Anytime past 1 am was the only time you understood what peace felt like.

Some nights you’re in bed by 2, others you’re in by 6, and this night is shaping itself to be one of those bed by 6 am nights. Well no biggie, it was your day off training tomorrow. All you had was your daily readings with Nat and 3 pm snack with Peter, so overall, a chill day ahead.

Gazing into the night sky, you watched each star go by and listened to the sound of the world asleep. It really was your favourite hour of the day…or night? You couldn’t really tell. As your silent night went on you were met with an unexpected sound of a glass shattering and a yelp of pain

“Shit!”

Your reflexes kicked in and you snapped you neck towards the direction of the noise. You knew it was impossible for anyone to break into here, hell Stark placed every security measure around the lot. So you weren’t worried it was some burglar…though you didn’t know if the place was alien proof, but that’s besides the point.

“Hello?” You call out, not knowing who the hell would be up at this time.

No response, but a whimper?

“Helloooo” You exaggerated in hopes this mysterious person replies…Again. Nothing.

You huffed in annoyance and stood up. Collecting your mug, music player and book, you made your way back into then kitchen. Stepping into the heated room you were met with

“Loki?” Not exactly the person you wanted to see.

His eyes met yours, small tears prickling out the corner of his eyes. “Oh Shit…” You then looked at his foot and saw a glass shard impaling it. Well that explains the shattering sound you heard.

“Are you ok? Why are you up?” You asked softly. Gods why him of all people did you have to see at this time.

“Uhm…long story darli- i mean…uhm…Look I dropped the glass by accident. I missed a step and well…yea” He fumbled his words.

Looking at his foot you could see that the glass was logged in deep into his skin, it even revealed his Jotun skin which meant this had to really hurt. You sighed and walked behind the kitchen counter, grabbing the first aid kit.

“Look this might not help much, but we can try to at least ease the pain until the healers arrive” Walking towards to him you reached out your hand for him to balance “Come on…Let’s get you seated on the couch”

Loki nodded and grasped your hand for balance. You guys made your way to the couch and he fell back into the soft cushions. You could tell he was trying his best not to cry from the pain

“I know you think it’s stupid to cry because you accidentally impaled yourself with a shard of glass but I can tell you’re in pain, so just…yea let it out or whatever” Flashing a small smile you held his foot up to your face and took a good look at his bleeding foot

“I don’t…I don’t want to move it…I’m scared to hurt you and…I don’t want to make it worse” You looked up to him “Can’t you use your magic? Heal yourself?” You asked in hopes there was some easier solution

“Erm…I can..but my Jotun form is exposed…I don’t know the reaction my magic will have on my natural form…and I don’t exactly want to risk anything right now”

“Ah mhm mhm ok” Silence filled the room after your reply. You and Loki…didn’t see eye to eye on many things, but you saw past that and learned the why’s of him. Of what a Loki is and you had actually fallen for the God…The breakup left you shattered, and it was his on stupidity that caused all this anyways.

“Darling I think you forgot I can read minds” Loki interrupted your thoughts

“I didn’t give you permission to read my mind” You hissed back. Standing up from the ground, you sat on the coffee table behind you, now faced eye to eye with Loki

“Forgive me, it’s not like I can control it”

“Oh but you can, you just have some agenda to piss me off all the time”

“You know it’s not like that”

“Oh? Really now?”

Loki huffed and looked away while your head fell into your hands. Neither of you moved for a moment, frustration now fuelling the air around you both.

“Why are we still like this?” Loki had broke the tension. “I don’t know Loki, why are we like this? We’re not even together and we can’t even hold a normal conversation”

“Darling…You do realise you never gave me a chance to expla—”

“To explain what?!” You snapped “There isn’t anything to explain Laufeyson, I saw everything with me own two eyes! Do I need to remind you of that or can I go back to my peaceful night?” You stood from the table and paced around

Loki groaned in frustration at your words “What do you want me to say? I’ve told you everything!”

“Oh that I was just some bet between your brother? That whoever could bed the chick first wins some stupid bet?! I saw…I HEARD you and Thor speaking about me in ways I don’t even want to remember”

“And you’re completely right! Yes! All that is true but somewhere down the line I did fall for you! I actually got to know you and Gods I love you!”

“I love you” Three words that rang through the quiet room…You looked at the time, 4:45 am, and then you looked back at Loki…

Loki stared at you, tears now spilling from his eyes “Can we talk? Please?”

You shook your head as tears started falling down your own face “What do I have to loose I guess…”

You walked towards him and sat down next to him “So…What is it Loki? What else is there to share? We both acknowledge that I was a bet, and you won…”

“You are completely right…But please believe me when I say I did fall for you down the line…You turned from a bet, to the person of my dreams. You stole my heart in ways I didn’t like and I pushed you away and I’m so damn sorry but please believe me when I say I love you”

“And i’m not some prize to win”

“I know…you’re a person. You’re someone that makes me want to change, to be better, to grow. For you”

“Loki…even when you say all these things…I still cannot shake that this all started because of a bet. A damn bet Loki…”

“I know…and I will spend my life making up for my stupidity…”

You turned away and watched as glimpses of the next day peaked through the windows.

“It’s nights like this that make me miss you sometimes…” You confessed “But it’s no reason for me to run back to you”

“Then can you forgive me? I’m truly sorry…” Loki pleaded

You sniffled and cried even more “I can’t promise anything…all in due time I guess”

Loki nodded “All in due time I guess” He replied and then called for the healers to help with his foot. It’s a new day…but you weren’t sure if you could say the nights were for peace anymore…

But you couldn’t decide if Loki made or ruined it.

——————————————————————————

(a/n): late night angst! just wanted to write some angst stuff out and ngl now i want to read some fluff fics :,)

#loki #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki god of mischief #loki marvel #loki series #loki angst fic #loki angst #loki x reader #loki x reader angst #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki angst fics #loki fanfiction angst #loki 2011 #loki thor #loki hurts you #you and loki broke up

[shmothman]

P and V for NSFW alphabet for Vash, pleaseee 🙈

SFW/NSFW Alphabet Prompts

(Vash/Reader)

NSFW below the cut, 18+ only.

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

Especially at first, Vash tends toward slow and sensual. He truly believes that this is all going to be ripped away from him, so while he has it, he has to make it last: he has to take every little detail, drink it in, lock it away in his memory—because every single time could be the last. Every time he holds you, kisses you, makes love to you, could be the last happy memory he gets. Plus, he’s more than a little bit scared that he’s going to hurt you. He’s strong, and you’re human—even the strongest of humans can seem so fragile to him, so mortal. Aside from that, though, he‘ll go slow because he wants to look into your eyes; wants to see the love there, wants to see that you understand the love on his face, too. He wants to drag out every little reaction for all its worth, catalogue every little hitch of your breath, every little sound you make because of him. And, again, especially at first… well. He doesn’t want it to end too quickly—and if he moves any faster, it will.

That being said, after a while—and on good days, when he can let himself live in the moment a little more and have hope for a bright future with you by his side—his desperation and eagerness can absolutely manifest as quicker, rougher sex. Never quite too rough—he’s completely averse to ever hurting you, and even seeing you with bruises will ignite his guilt—but when he’s chasing his high (and, god, if you’re begging him for something faster and harder) he can and will pound you into the mattress with enthusiasm. He’ll still try to keep his eyes open, still try to watch every expression on your face (yes, he makes you look like that, pleasure written so plainly across your features!) but sometimes he doesn’t have the willpower for it; sometimes he’ll let himself give in—especially if you like it this much when he does.

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

Loud. Vash is very loud. He can’t help it, you feel so good! Even if he’s alone, he has to muffle himself with a pillow, whimpering and whining and gasping your name—because what else would he be imagining but you? And once he has you for real? Once it’s not just his fantasies but your body, your voice, your smile? He’ll try to muffle himself, but he won’t be able to manage it. (Besides, you’re asking him so sweetly not to hide those “pretty little noises,” and how could he possibly refuse you?)

Vash is a talker, once he gets going, and it’s all praise—praise and I love you and your name, over and over again, falling like a litany from his lips. He can’t stop telling you how good you feel, how amazing you are, how good he feels—and if you tell him the same, that he’s making you feel so good, he’ll fall apart that much quicker, drunk off the pleasure he’s trying so hard to give. Though, he reaches a point where he can’t quite make words anymore, and then it’s all just noises: wordless whimpers and moans and whines, pitched high and reedy and desperate; then low groans and grunts and back again, a constant stream of sounds wrenched from deep within him. And sometimes, if you get him high enough, drive him crazy enough, you might get something strange from him—an inhuman sort of trill, like his vocal cords slipped in a way human vocal cords can’t. It’s surprising, but it sends warmth shivering over your skin and coiling tightly inside you; it’s your new mission to get that sound out of him again and again.

#eheheeeeee these were fun ones thank u 🥰🥰 #what can I say. i like a man who makes noise. #sef writes #sef drabbles #vash the stampede x reader #Trigun #x reader #writing prompts

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Under Orders - Part 4

Masterlist

Part 1 🔹Part 2🔹Part 3🔹Part 4🔹Part 5

Pairing: Dom!August x reader || Dom!Marshall x reader

Summary: August decides to tease you when your new neighbor comes over to watch the game...

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, BDSM, D/s dynamic (technically D/s/D), praise kink, (semi-)suspension bondage, p-in-v sex (unprotected, creampie), anal sex (toys, fingering, p-in-a) (f receiving) (unprotected, anal creampie), double penetration (toys), use of pet names/titles (Daddy, Sir, princess, kitten, sweetheart, love, darling and bunny), established polyamorous relationship, very light spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism, phone (video) sex, slight humiliation/degradation, slight objectification, bratty behavior, punishment/funishment, also check-ins and aftercare...

A/N: My dear, dear Charlie! I have been thinking about what you said way back in March, and even though my brain was already playing around with an idea for a part 4, I ended up nixing that idea and... well... Going with yours, really, while also making precisely 0 promises because I couldn't really see it yet. Then, I proceeded to struggle with this for 3 months while also teasing you - which I feel is a fair reaction to your bullying 😝 By now, of course, you know me a little, so I'm guessing you already knew this was coming despite my very deliberately not actually telling you. (I'm sorry, I just didn't want to disappoint in case I really couldn't wrap my brain around that combo.)

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @peaches1958 @know1udno @dedicated-to-mr-cavill @7eamfan7asy @ylva-stark @summersong69 @kingliam2019 @mayloma @sloppyzengarden @youve-yeed-yer-last-haw @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @livisss @sycochick

Burly, handsome, and retired from the army. It’s a good thing a man like that hadn’t moved in next to some picture perfect, suburban, American dream couple, because that’s how folks like that end up divorced. Instead, he had moved in next door to you and August. Not that you don’t consider what you have ‘perfect’, and God knows there are plenty of pictures, but it’s a far cry from the bland housewife scenario that usually comes with the type of neighborhood you live in. That said, it’s probably for the best you don’t live anywhere that shares any walls with the next house – you can’t imagine the noise complaints you’d get.

The first weeks are quiet; you check him out form a safe distance, you smile and wave, and you don’t go much beyond friendly introductions. His name is Sy – an abbreviation of his last name; he doesn’t use his first name for whatever reason. He was Special Forces, now working personal security somewhere downtown. It doesn’t get much deeper than that. You purposely keep your conversations short, not least of all because you’re scared that you’ll end up flirting with him a little too much if you don’t.

While you’re putting in all this effort to keep your mind out of the gutter, August grins like some kind of lunatic every time he catches you looking a little too long, or glancing over your shoulder a second time when you walk past him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Until one day, when you pull into the driveway at the same time Sycomes back from his run, and you spend your time shamelessly undressing him with your eyes while August talks to him. It's not a lot of work, he’s just wearing shorts, so you have the added bonus of not having to guess what his chest looks like. He’s big – at least as big as Marshall – and there’s an impressive collection of scars on him that you probably shouldn’t be staring at. Somewhere over the course of that conversation, you hear August suggest that Sy should come over to have a drink and watch the game – an offer he gladly accepts.

“What are you doing?” There’s absolutely no point in pretending; August knows you may just have a tiny little huge crush on this guy, and he’s going to torment you over it.

“Inviting our neighbor over,” August says, raising an eyebrow. It’s a challenge, which is strange, because he hardly ever gives you those. It’s Marshall who doesn’t mind a bit of lip from you every now and then, but August absolutely despises it. It’s one of the reasons that Augusts suggestion to share you with Marshall was a good one – and something that may have actually saved your relationship. “Go get dressed.”

You scoff when he says it. So he wants you all dolled up so he can toy with you all night before he ships you off to Marshall’s place needy and worked up? You’re not surprised: that’s exactly what you’d expect from him. But to do so in front of the new neighbor you barely even know…

“You’re going to punish me over a little…” you can’t bring yourself to say the word ‘crush’ – it sounds juvenile and wrong, even though your being in a relationship with two guys is hardly conventional and feels so right it makes you scared you’ll burst. Is it really so weird that you’re possibly considering three now?

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice August as he closes the distance between the two of you. When he grabs your neck, you shriek.

“Upstairs, now.” He’s already had enough of your attitude – and you’re not even giving him any, really. He drags you up the stairs and into the bedroom. The clothes that are laid out on the bed are a surprise; a light dress that shows you off in all the right ways, heels that are just a little over the top for casual drinks at your own house. The underwear is to Marshall’s taste, not his own – but that’s just preparation for later, and definitely something you already saw coming. The dress and shoes mean something else, though: August isn’t trying to torment you, he’s going to be parading you around. And not just for his own pleasure, either, you suspect.

“Do you get it now?” he asks.

“You want to show me off,” you whisper.

“Oh, yes. And not just that,” August says as he pulls you closer until your back is against his chest. His hand moves from the nape of your neck to cover your throat. When he speaks again, his lips brush against your ear, and you moan softly at the sensation. “I’m trying to get my pretty little whore what she wants. Am I still the bad guy?”

“No,” you say softly. Of course that’s met with a tightening grip on your throat. And he’s right: you’re forgetting something. “No, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he growls in your ear as he lets go of you again, fingers still lingering. “It might take some time, though. ‘Do you want to get in on fucking my girlfriend’ isn’t exactly an opening line. Besides; I haven’t decided I can trust this guy yet. Can you be patient, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You can certainly try…

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs softly. “Hands on the wall.”

You do as he tells you, knowing all too well that not listening might land you a sore enough ass that Marshall will actively complain about not being able to touch it tonight. August kicks lightly at your feet, prompting you to spread them.

“I do intend to play with you a little, though.” You savor every drop of the sadistic chuckle behind his voice as he speaks.

There’s a reason August likes to see you in loose skirts like the one you’re wearing, and you’re very sure ‘easy access’ is eighty percent of it. He drags your panties to the side and two fingers slip into your pussy with embarrassing ease.

“God, kitten, you’re so wet already,” he groans. “You’re such a perfect little slut for Daddy.” All you can do is moan while August pulls his fingers out and moves them to your clit. The tight circles he draws around the swollen little pearl make you writhe your hips, leaning into his touch as he keeps rhythm and pressure steady at an intensity that’s just shy of enough to make you come.

“What does my needy baby want?” You silently curse him out for already taking you past being able to use your words. If you want to come, you’re going to have to speak, and he’s making it almost impossible.

“Please make me come, Daddy!” you whine. August is ruthless. He knows exactly how to touch you or what to do to turn you into a screaming, squirming mess in his arms. It’s impossible to hold back your orgasm, and he knows it.

“Do you want to come?” That’s a fucking redundant question. It takes everything you’ve got to choke back the attitude and just tell him ‘yes, Daddy’. “Alright then.” One more flick of his fingers has you crying out his name, and you struggle to stay upright, but he’s there to hold you, thank god. You’re not given a lot of time to come down from your high, because the next thing you know, your hips are dragged back a little as August pulls your underwear down as far as they’ll go.

“Stay put.” You wouldn’t dare to move, honestly. Besides, why would you want to? The nightstand opens and closes, and as soon as August is back behind you, you hear the very familiar sound of the bottle of lube being opened. You’re fairly sure you’d recognize that sound in your sleep by now.

“Are you okay, standing up?” Shit. You thought he was just planning on popping a plug in your ass to torture you a little through drinks with Sy, but he actually wants to go for a round right now? Bastard.

“I’m fine,” you say as you roll your eyes. Not that he can see them, but it’s the thought that counts. Besides: It doesn’t matter what you say you want, August knows better. He’s well aware of the fact that you can’t resist the prospect of anal sex anymore. You’ve been having way too much fun with that!

You hum contently when he works one, then two, then three fingers into your ass.

“Is it just me or did this take way more work in the beginning?” August asks. His voice is surprisingly casual, which makes you laugh. Marshall actually brought up the same thing a few weeks back. They’re not wrong, either. You know what to expect and how to relax now, and it really has become easier.

“I didn’t have a well-rehearsed asshole in the beginning,” you counter. A fierce smack on your behind startles you. The impact leaves your cheek stinging – a sensation you not only happen to love, but happen to crave from time to time.

“Stick that attitude somewhere it won’t bother me, princess,” August says.

“Can’t,” you reply, “got three fingers shoved up there already.”

“Four,” he says casually, but you can tell he’s annoyed. “And that’s all the backtalk I’m going to allow. One more toe out of line, and you won’t be allowed touch that pretty pussy for a week. And by the time I’m taking you to Sir, you’re going to want to, trust me.” That sounds promising. You’re increasingly curious about what he’s got planned for you.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you say softly. He answers with nothing but a soft chuckle before pulling his fingers out of you and replacing them with something you personally consider to be much more fun.

“Oh, God! Yes please!” There’s no way to say that softly. For a moment, you wonder if there’s a better feeling in the world than August sliding his cock into your ass – only to decide shortly after that the only thing that’s better is when he does it again, and again, and again. Since your first adventure taking both August and Marshall at the same time, neither of them seem to be as scared to hurt you anymore, and they’ve only been becoming rougher and rougher with you. It’s fucking amazing, to be honest.

August doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s trying to last. The point of all this, judging from his actions after he pulls his dick out of your ass again, was to leave Marshall a surprise later tonight. It sometimes surprises you how okay your guys are with it when they hand you over with one – or several – loads of cum still inside you. You’ve heard the term ‘free lube’ on several occasions, and while that’s true and a valid point, it also definitely isn’t. It’s preferable to them being thoroughly grossed out about it, though. This wouldn’t work if they were. You’re barely aware of August sliding your favorite plug in place – it’s no wonder; you’re still struggling to stand up on your own and you may or may not be a little cockdrunk.

“Do I have to wear it all night?” you whine. August laughs – a sadistic, cruel sound that drives you mad so quickly you’re afraid you’re actually dripping all over the floor – and drags you up by your hair, only to spin you around and pin you against the wall. He kisses you hard, forcing his tongue against your lips until you yield and let him in. He breaks the kiss as he works a hand between your bodies.

“No, princess. Don’t pretend you hate it, I know you love it when we plug your cute little ass.” His breath is hot on your ear and the tone in his voice makes you shiver with anticipation. He slips his hand between your legs, but where you expect to feel his fingers slide into your pussy, it’s something else. The jerk. “This is going to be far more annoying.”

“D-Daddy? Am I at least allowed to come, please?” The soft buzzing of the remote control vibrator is already driving you nuts. This is going to be hell.

“Yes, but you’ll have to do it quietly.” Quietly? Oh fuck! Sy is coming over. You’d forgotten about that for a moment. A quick round of anal will do that to a person, apparently.

“You’re a sadistic asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

“Do you want to say that to my face, princess?” August asks you as he raises an eyebrow at you. You know that eyebrow – that’s not a good eyebrow.

“No, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

“That’s what I thought. Get dressed.” And with those words, he disappears.

For a minute, you consider taking the vibrator out, but there’s no way he wouldn’t notice. Also, it’s not as fun. You like being toyed with. You like it when they get you all worked up and dripping wet, and then deny you your pleasure for a little while longer just so they can watch you go completely crazy. You love knowing that there’s always a chance they will decide you haven’t been good enough, and you can’t have what you want. You feel safe knowing that they may be in control, even go as far as taking away your ability to move, see or speak, but they’ll never abuse the power that you give them. You love them.

You finish getting dressed and you’re just admiring yourself in the mirror – August has a sense of style when he isn’t going to work in drab grey suits – when your phone rings. Marshall. Your heart jumps when you see his name on the screen, and you answer immediately.

“Hey! Excited for tonight? Got anything planned?” you ask. It was a pretty last-minute decision to have you spend the weekend at his place, so you figured there must be something going on.

“Not really.” It’s not new that he sounds tired – Marshall always sounds tired, and probably has since kindergarten – but his voice is unusually flat, which has you worried. August hasn’t said anything about any trouble, so it’s either something he doesn’t know about, or something he decided not to tell you.

“Baby, are you ok-aah!” You silently curse August for turning up the heat on the vibrations. Fuck, it feels good, but if this is any indication of what he’ll put you through when Sy gets here, you’re in for a rough ride.

“Darling? Is something wrong?” Marshall sounds concerned, which isn’t surprising, because you just screeched in his ear for no apparent reason, but it’s still not quite necessary. You tell him as much, but he doesn’t believe you. “Can I see you?”

Oh, sure thing, he can see you! It’s moments like these when the attitude you can’t give August bubbles up. The thought of making Marshall look forward to tonight maybe a little bit more excites you more than you could ever describe. You turn your camera on after letting yourself fall on the bed, waving your feet in the air behind you, hoping he’ll be able to see your shoes. Both of your men like you in heels – and not just because they make your ass look good.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Marshall asks. You’re fairly sure he can tell you’re turned on.

“I’m perfectly fi-oh. Dammit, August.” That tells him everything he needs to know, and he starts laughing.

“Do I need to remind you that you got him that toy for his birthday?” No, he doesn’t need to remind you of that, actually, you were perfectly well on your way cussing yourself out for that one. Big mistake. Delicious, perverted, perfect, huge mistake.

“This wasn’t about me; what’s up?” You ask, stifling the moans that August is causing by playing around with the settings of the vibrator.

“Fuck, if you keep moaning like that, you know what will be up.” He groans. His voice is so warm and deep – and you have such a thing for that kind of voice – that any moan, groan, grunt or growl coming from this man is automatically a wildly erotic noise. That’s something you don’t want to be thinking about right now – you’re having a tough enough time as it is. “Tough case, wrapped it up yesterday. That’s why I asked you to come over. I need some quality time with my girl.” You whine, both because of August’s never-ending shenanigans, and because that’s the sweetest thing you’ve heard in a while.

“And how are we going to spend that quality time?” you ask coyly. It’s not that there’s a wrong or a right answer to this question, it’s just that you want something to look forward to tonight. A happy place to go to when August tries to get you to make lewd as fuck sounds in front of the neighbor you’ve barely even talked to. “I was planning on takeout and a movie,” Marshall says, “but it seems August plans on handing you over to me all hot and bothered. It would be a shame to waste that.”

“Any suggestions?” You tilt your phone a bit to bring your cleavage into view. Since you’re laying on your stomach, resting on your elbows, your chest looks amazing – it would just be wrong to deny him the visual. You choke back a chuckle when you see Marshall lick his lips.

“I somehow finally got around to installing a hard point in the bedroom that we can play around with?” You’d been talking about it for a few weeks, and with every conversation, the thought of having all those extra options became more alluring. There may or may not have been some talk of suspension, even, and you would be the first to admit that the idea alone turns you on big time.

“Movie night or bondage,” you say, laughing softly, “that’s a seriously tough choice, though.”

“I say bondage first, movies after, is that an alright compromise?” Alright compromise? Puh-lease! That sounds like the perfect night! Marshall can’t help but laugh when you tell him that. “Good, love. I can’t wait to see you.”

“You don’t have to wait,” you say coyly as you angle your phone to give him an even better look at your cleavage.

“Oh, shit, not saying no to that.” Of course he wouldn’t. He’s probably already worked up from knowing you’re being played with right now.

“Want to watch me come for you?” It’s a redundant question. You know it, Marshall knows it, but he still pretends to think about his answer for a moment. You stick out your tongue, which makes him laugh – as always.

“Careful, you little brat, or I’ll leave you tied to the ceiling all night. No movies for you.” It’s an empty threat, you can tell from the sound of his voice and the terrible wink he throws your way. Without thinking much, you move to sit in front of the mirror on the closet door, leaning back against the bed. You change the camera and show Marshall where you’re sitting.

“Tell me everything you’re going to do to me tonight.”

You make sure to give Marshall a nice show while he talks about several exciting ways to tie you up in excruciating detail. To say that a part of you wishes you were with him already is a massive understatement – all of you wants to be wrapped in his arms and in his ropes right now. After some time, you notice something strange; the vibrations of the toy are suspiciously helpful in your race towards what you know is going to be a fantastic orgasm. It’s the ‘come for me, baby’ from Marshall that pulls you over the edge, breaking you apart into a million pieces until you’re a trembling mess on the floor.

“That was lovely, princess.” August. Of course he was watching you. That makes a whole lot of sense. Did he overhear as he walked by the room? Was he looking for you? The dirty grin on Marshall’s face tells you everything you need to know.

“Thanks for letting me know what she was up to,” August says to Marshall as he sits by your side and kisses your cheek. “Would have hated to miss out on that.”

“Why do you two always have to be in cahoots?” You roll your eyes. “In the beginning you were so hell-bent on annoying each other, what happened?”

“We learned to share,” Marshall says. “I’m going to get some things set up for tonight, darling. I’ll see you soon.”

Marshall hangs up the phone without waiting for your answer, and August doesn’t even wait for you to put it down before he presses his lips to your neck.

“You looked so pretty, sweetheart,” he groans against your skin in between soft kisses and licks. His arm moves in that unmistakable way, and you can hear the tension in his voice.

“Did you enjoy the show, Daddy?” you tease. You know him so well by now, that a few strategically placed kisses on his neck have him on edge. He was probably already close when he was watching you, which honestly turns you on more than you can say.

“I really did, princess,” August replies. “Spread your legs for me, baby. Show me your pretty little pussy.”

You do as he tells you – what else is new – and you enjoy the way he kisses you hard as he gets between your legs. He pushes your dress up further and uses one hand to push your panties to the side, slapping your wrist when you try to help him. You can tell he’s close from the ragged breaths and the low growl that tumble through his chest. At the same time, attitude and mischief bubble up inside you, and you’re speaking before thinking once again.

“Come for me, Daddy,” you taunt right as August topples over the edge of release, coating your pussy with cum. He doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face either means you’ll regret saying that, or you won’t. Which would be a terrible thing to have to figure out, if it wasn’t so goddamn exciting.

August pulls your panties back in place, the mostly mesh material already soaked from your earlier endeavors, and runs his fingers over the thin material for good measure.

You’re a mess. You’re exactly where he wanted you; horny, close to the point of overstimulation, with your pussy covered in cum. It’s almost becoming a seal of approval for August – the first time you met Marshall, you weren’t even wearing panties and August’s cum was dripping down your legs. There was no time to clean that up then, exactly as he'd planned, and there is no time for that now, either, because the doorbell rings.

August watches Sy like a hawk the whole time he’s over, but he’s nothing short of a perfect gentleman with you – and you’re really trying your best, bending over to put down drinks, flirtatious smiles, playing with your hair. You know you’re laying it on thick, but you just can’t seem to help yourself. He’s so handsome and you’re painfully attracted to him! Of course, the fact that you went into this dripping wet and drenched in cum doesn’t help you behave at all. August has to keep himself from laughing on occasion, he thinks the way you’re throwing yourself at your neighbor is very funny. He’s going easier on the vibrator than you had expected. It’s off most of the time, but the idea that it might turn on at any moment is both exciting and nerve-wracking. Every time August takes out his phone, you clench your thighs in anticipation. August has trouble keeping his face in check whenever he sees it, but Sy seems to be none the wiser.

You listen to the guys talking about the game, sports, work, and whatever other neighborly pleasantry can be expected of a regular evening like this – nothing about the crazy threesome you had with both of your boyfriends on the exact couch Sy and August are sitting on right now, for instance. God, why did you have to think about that? Every bit of your brain is becoming increasingly preoccupied with the mess between your legs, your walls clamp down on the toy inside of you, and you’re having trouble controlling your breathing.

“You know what, this was fun, but I’ll leave you guys to your game and just drive to Marshall myself.” Point to August. He’ll never let you live that down…

“That bad, huh?” Marshall says when he opens the door for you.

“Horrible!” you shriek as you drop your coat and stomp into the kitchen.

“Excuse me? Come back here and pick that up, please?” Dammit! Over the past few weeks, Marshall has really been taking a page out of August’s playbook, and you don’t like it at all. You know their motives are different. August gets off on controlling you, Marshall likes to give you the opportunity to be a brat so he can tie you up and spank you. No matter the reason, it’s annoying as fuck right now. Ironically, you don’t feel like lashing out at him today, so you listen. Marshall can’t help but grab your hips and grind into you when you bend down to pick your coat off the floor – and who can blame him? He just loves your ass. August does too. In fact, you’re fairly sure you’ve seen Sy sneak the occasional peek at your behind when he was over – although that was the full extent of his expressing any interest. You put your coat where it belongs and turn around.

“I was promised bondage and movies, what are we still doing here?” You can’t wait until Marshall undresses you and finds the mess August left for him.

“Impatient,” Marshall laughs, “I like it.” Looks like you’re not getting harsh and demanding Marshall tonight, despite the stressful case he’s been through. One hand reaches around and spanks your ass forcefully, but his eyes are smiling. You know exactly what he’s going to do next: grab your butt cheek and pull you in – and lo and behold.

“Let’s get upstairs!”

Marshall throws you around like you’re a rag doll. That’s okay, he has all these big muscles, he better put them to good use, right? You’re over his shoulder in no time, and he carries you up the stairs like you don’t weigh a thing, and your favorite part is yet to come. When your back hits the mattress, you squeal. Marshall always lets you struggle just enough to let you work some of that attitude out, but you know perfectly well that you’re absolutely powerless. He presses a series of kisses to your neck as he pulls up your dress, pausing briefly to rip it over your head and toss it aside.

“Do I thank you or August?” he asks as he takes in the sight of you in the lingerie August picked out.

“August,” you reply. Marshall smiles approvingly. Now that you’re not being toyed with constantly, and the overstimulation that August subjected you to has faded a little, you feel a little more of that need to misbehave…

“It’s almost too pretty to take it off, love.” He holds out a hand to you, which you happily take. You gasp when he suddenly pulls you off the bed, and pushes you down to your knees again in the middle of the bedroom. “Now, we can do one of two things. Option one: we turn this into a practice session. Option two: we play. I’m testing that hard point either way, you’ll get tied up either way. The question is: how badly do you want my cock inside of you?”

His words take your breath away. It feels a little silly, but you love it when they give you options. It doesn’t have to be a hard choice, but it’s nice when they let you know you have a say in things occasionally. This time, the choice is ridiculously easy: play.

“Have you made your choice, darling?”

“Yes, Sir,” you say, much more confident now than you know you’ll be in half an hour or so.

“Perfect,” Marshall chuckles as he opens one of the drawers underneath his bed and grabs the things he needs. He gets to work immediately, which tells you he’s more than happy with the choice you made. While he gets a few more things ready to – finally – tie you to his ceiling, he tells you to strip. You want to listen, really, you do, so for the first half of the exercise, you’re a good girl, and you take off the longline bra you were wearing without complaining. Now… Your panties…

“What seems to be the problem, sweetheart?” Those are the words that come out of his mouth. The sigh that follows, however, tells you something more along the lines of: ‘What did he do now?’ His hands roughly grasp the flimsy elastic of your underwear and pull them down your legs. As soon as they’re gone, Marshall grabs your knees and pushes them apart.

“Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath when he sees you. Then his eyes settle on you: “Knees. Now.” You scramble to get on your knees, eager to obey his order and admittedly also a bit scared of the sudden change in his behavior. He works as quickly as he can without making concessions to safety. From the sound of his breath, you can tell that he’s using every last sliver of restraint he has to still make good on his promise to tie you up – and to adhere to the plan he had clearly made in advance, because this goes way too smooth to be improvisation.

Before you know it, your shoulder is on the floor, your hands are tied behind your back, and one of your legs is tied as far towards your shoulder as you can handle. The other leg is frog tied and up in the air. Marshall admires his handiwork for a moment – and you’re fairly sure he’s taking pictures of it to send to August, as well – before getting on his knees next to you.

“He ruined you,” he says appreciatively as he gently lets his hand glide over your ass. When his fingers brush past the base of the plug, you shiver.

“Can you take the toys out, please, Sir?” you ask in a small voice. It’s been a few hours since August put them in, and they’re starting to bother you. You sigh in relief when Marshall first pulls the bullet vibe out of you, and then gently removes the butt plug.

“Another one?” He says as he watches August’s cum drip out of your ass. “Daddy really made a mess of you, huh, darling?”

“Yes, Sir,” you answer quietly. Marshall pushes two fingers into your pussy and rolls his thumb over your clit, making you moan and squirm against your restraints.

“Did he fuck this cute, wet pussy?”

“No, Sir, just my ass,” you answer. The sound of Marshall undoing his belt and zipper makes you tremble in anticipation.

“Then how do you explain this messy little cunt, love?” A third finger slips in without any issues, but when he adds the fourth you start to feel a little bit of a stretch. Apparently, you don’t answer him quickly enough for his tastes. “Baby? I want an answer, come on.”

“Daddy came all over my pussy after we hung up the phone,” you mumble. Judging from the way Marshall laughs, he’s not surprised at all. The tip of his cock slides through your soaking wet folds, making you moan and bite your lip.

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” Marshall says, halting his movements as soon as he realizes it’s either ‘moan uncontrollably as a way of begging him to shove his dick into you’ or ‘listen to what he has to say’, which means he will have to make a small sacrifice for now. “I need you to let me know when you’re uncomfortable.” He explains his concern for your shoulders and neck, and promises to take things easy. You whine when he says the words. The last thing you want is for him to be gentle with you today, not after all August’s teasing, and part of you desperately wants to beg him to rail you until you can’t see straight – but you don’t.

As soon as he pushes into you, you’re glad you didn’t. The way he moans tells you exactly how much he needs this. Needs you, but everything surrounding you as well. To be handed a dripping mess by August, to fight you a little, tie you up… and finally to treat you the way he believes you deserve to be treated: with respect, love and – from time to time - tenderness. He’s not going to last, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not like this breaks a half year long dry spell or anything. In fact, it doesn’t even break a three hour dry spell. You can feel the tension and frustration from the past weeks as he finally lets it all out in his final, brutal thrusts as he fucks his load deep into your pussy. When he pulls out, an image flashes in your mind. The image of Sy waiting in line to take his turn on your already ravaged holes…

The fantasy occupies every corner of your mind so thoroughly that you barely register the changing tension on the ropes around your limbs and torso as Marshall unties you. It isn’t until he’s completely done that you finally become aware of your surroundings again. For a moment, you expect him to lift you off the floor and carry you to the bed or the bathroom, as he has done countless times before, but he doesn’t. Instead, he joins you on the floor, curling up behind you as he pulls you into his arms.

“Perfect little bunny,” he muses as he nuzzles your neck and squeezes you tight before starting to gently massage the rope marks on your skin. Eventually, he does pick you up, and drags you into the shower with him. You haven’t needed your ‘private bathroom minute’ for a while now. Would adding Sy to the mix change something about that familiarity? You can’t deny your crush, but is it really worth risking all of this for… him?

“You’re not risking anything, love,” Marshall says. Either your thoughts are immediately obvious when looking at you, or you’ve said something out loud. Either way, you’re embarrassed enough about the fact that you are even thinking about another man while you’re letting Marshall take care of you. Now you’re going to have an actual conversation about it. “August told me weeks ago. We’ve talked this through, and… we’re happy to let you sort out your feelings if he’s on board with that, too.”

“And if he’s not?” you ask, but you already know the answer: You don’t want him if he’s not.

#walter marshall x reader #walter marshall smut #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall #august walker x female reader #august walker x reader #august walker #august walker fanfiction #august walker smut #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fanfiction

[noxexistant]

Jack muttering" take me instead your not touching him."

Specs pulling splasher away to gently soothe him. And jack desperately yelling no scrambling in their direction.

Blink and skittery holding him. "Shhh Jackie we gotcha. Yer allright now. We aint gonna letcha go there again."

Jack not recognizing them crying silentky thinking he failed and his friends hearts breaking just holding him till he falls into a fitful sleep and eventually they do too though not before looking at each other desperately for way too long wondering what they can do

(based on this)

Jack’s pulled from sleep by a little hand shaking his shoulder. It’s gentle and tentative, accompanied by the sniffling of a kid about to burst into tears - and suddenly Jack is wide awake.

“Shh,” he hisses immediately, a knee-jerk reaction, as he hauls himself upright in his bunk and then over the side, bare feet hitting the floor silently but hard enough to make his shins sing. He always sleeps in a top bunk if there’s one going, there ain’t as many rats that can get up there, but that means if there’s a kid shaking him they must be stood on the lower bunk, which means they might wake those kids up, which means more noise and more trouble.

Sure enough, the kid - Splasher, Splasher - has his bare feet planted on the bunk below Jack, a mattress occupied by a sleeping body. He’s got one hand gripping Jack’s bunk to keep balance while the other - the one he’d used to wake Jack up - is wiping clumsily at the tears streaming down his face.

“Jack,” he whines.

“S’okay,” Jack whispers, scooping Splasher up under the arms and lifting him down to the ground, glancing cautiously to see if the body in the bunk is stirring but panicking too hard to really look. He then crouches in front of the kid, still holding him by either side of his ribs to keep him close and still. “S’okay. Alright? Calm down. You gotta calm down. You gotta be quiet.”

Splasher hiccups. It’s deafeningly loud to Jack’s ears, and he feels himself start to panic because the kid is starting to cry. His face screws up and he huddles closer to Jack, his one hand gripping tight at Jack’s shirt.

“Jack—“ he repeats, a sob this time.

“Shh!” Jack hisses again, maybe a little sharper than he’d meant to, but he doesn’t need any listening guards to hear his name and know it’s him. There could even be listening kids, the types who’ll snitch and tell the guards Jack was up making noise hours past lights out just to get him beat or at most get themselves an extra piece of bread next week, but that’s his second priority. His first is the kid, and getting the kid to be quiet.

“You gotta stop. You gotta stop, buddy - quiet, okay? Just—just—‘s’okay, just…”

His mind is blank. Splasher is sobbing, the loud crying of a kid that don’t know what’s coming, and Jack can’t let him find out. He can’t, he can’t, the kid’s only tiny, and he’s already crying, he’s shaking like he’s scared - and suddenly his eyes, all huge and full of tears, go behind Jack like there’s someone there, and Jack immediately knows there is. His stomach drops like a stone, like his chest caved in and fell there and left the space around his pounding heart chillingly empty, and he could throw up. He’s scared. But he ain’t scared, ‘cause Splasher’s scared, and he’ll take any beating like it don’t hurt at all to make sure a kid stays safe.

He wrenches Splasher behind him rough enough to make the kid shriek, and spins with the knowledge that maybe the first hit won’t hurt so bad if he acts like he was gunning for it.

“Was me!” he says, and it’s only then that he realises he’s breathless. He forces himself to keep speaking regardless, throat feeling like it’s closing. “Was me, I woke ‘im up, ‘s’my fault, please—“

Please don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him. Lord, Splasher ain’t even running, he’s still stood stock still right where Jack shoved him to, even though there’s someone coming right at him now—

“No!” Jack screams, as the person reaches out for Splasher and grabs him, and Splasher goes willingly, like he trusts the monster. He don’t know what’s coming. They ain’t being rough, they’re leading him away careful but firm with hands on his shoulders, but that gentleness don’t mean much. Often enough it means it’s gonna be worse, but there’s hands grabbing Jack too when he tries to go for Splasher. Arms winding around him to hold him back, even as he kicks and wrenches and fights.

“No!” he shouts again, desperate as Splasher gets further and further away. “He didn’t do nothin’! Don’t, don’t! You ain’t touchin’ him, take me, take—‘s’my fault—You ain’t fuckin’ hurtin’ him, please!”

Jack is pulled back helplessly into the chest behind him - smaller than any guard he’s ever seen before - and suddenly he’s sinking to the floor, knees buckling, entirely unable to get air into his lungs. They’re burning, searing, as hot as the burning in his eyes, and his ears are roaring like there’s a fire too. He can’t hear nothing, can’t feel nothing, can only see Splasher being dragged away - he was trusting Jack, he woke Jack up, he wanted Jack to protect him but Jack couldn’t even do that. He failed, the kid’s never gonna trust him again, never gonna trust no one again just like Jack can’t.

“Please,” he sobs. “I gotta—he’s jus’ a kid—‘s’my fault—“

He wrenches again against the hold on him, barely a useless little jerk against those arms bound way too tender around his waist and chest, wrapped around him like a hug, and maybe he’s insane but finally he can’t help but melt. Exhaustion and failure crash over him like a wave to finally drown him, and he’s left adrift, sobbing like a kid. Sobbing like Splasher did.

Blink feels like he can’t breathe either. There’s something visceral about watching Jack writhing and wheezing like this, something that makes his brain feel like maybe there really ain’t any air in the room, even though he’s talking so there must be. He don’t think Jack is hearing a word of it, but it’s worth it just to say it. To not feel quite as helpless as they is.

“Yer alright. Yer alright, Jackie, it ain’t real. You ain’t there. Jus’ a nightmare, fella. Splash ‘s’fine, he’s wit’ Specs, he’s safe. You’re fine.”

“He ain’t fine,” Skittery scoffs, venomous, almost as breathless as Jack is.

He’s still holding him tight, even though Jack ain’t fighting anymore. It looks more like a hug now, just holding instead of restraining, and Skittery’d probably sooner die than admit it but Blink supposes that’s probably what it is. Jack is all boneless, just crying, and Skittery’s holding him like he’s trying to hold him together.

“You’re here,” Skittery tells Jack, spoken into the wild sweaty mop of Jack’s hair. “You’re at home, Jack. You’re alright now. You’re safe. Alright?”

Jack definitely ain’t listening. His eyes are still all distant and glazed over, but his eyelids are drooping like maybe he might fall asleep again, like maybe the fear’s already crashed, and on nights like this, that’s often more than they can ask for.

“Get him back in bed,” Blink murmurs softly to Skittery. “C’mon. We can get ‘im up together.”

They do. They haul him into Blink’s bunk behind them, underneath Jack’s, and crawl in with him while fiercely ignoring the eyes all watching them, startled awake by the commotion and Jack’s hollering. Crutchie’s watching from the next bunk over, but Blink can’t stomach looking at him - though not much less than he can stomach looking at Skittery where he’s on Jack’s other side, curling himself around Jack’s back. Skittery looks sick, maybe as sick as Blink feels.

Blink settles himself against Jack’s front and pulls his face to his chest, wincing at the burn of his tears and the clammy feel of his skin.

“Yer alright,” Blink tells him, quiet. “We got you, Jack. We ain’t lettin’ you go back there.”

Jack’s passed out a second later. He’s out cold, dead asleep like he got knocked on the head, and Blink don’t doubt for a second he’ll wake up in the morning still exhausted and without a damn clue what happened, like he always does when he has turns like this.

Blink and Skittery’ll remember, though. Just like they’ll remember every second they spent staring at each other over the top of Jack’s head, through sweat-damp strands of his dark hair, until they both finally manage to pass out too.

(And, true to form, Jack doesn’t remember a damn thing in the morning. He don’t even know which way’s up. He looks like shit and can hardly walk straight, stumbling with bleary, half-glazed eyes right out of Blink’s bunk a full hour before the bell’s rung. But he won’t settle - not until Blink gets up too and guides him over to where Splasher is tucked with Specs in his bunk, cosy and fast asleep and entirely unharmed.

“Think I musta had a rough dream last night,” Jack mumbles. Blink doesn’t correct him.)

#newsies #jack kelly #splasher newsies #kid blink #skittery newsies #splasher #skittery #my writing #answered #anonymous #cw abuse

[jonahfagnus]

hi @zhuzhee this is for u thank u so much for the very nice tags and the art

It takes them a week and a bit for Jon to be comfortable being away from Jonah. He clings, always touching Jonah in some way, unwilling to be made to deal with the full onslaught of Watching the entire world. Usually he’s sat on him, or leaning on him. He’s almost always Watching Jonah. It’s sweet.

Jonah had suggested making some avatars to outsource the work to - surely Jon would be able to make sure nobody would get hurt in the process - and Jon had almost bitten his fingers off, making a low rumbling noise that can’t exactly be called a growl and, for a few moments, convincing Jonah’s mind he was a very small prey animal outside of the den after dark. It’s the only sound he’s heard Jon make - he’s not sure if his body even has a mouth, although it certainly has teeth. He tells himself that this isn’t contradictory.

“It isn’t,” Jon says from a tape on the table.

Jonah simply hums, continuing to pet him. He knows he’s never going to be able to see the world as Jon does, and that’s fine. He can be content with it.

Every day, usually in the afternoon, he spends some time teaching Jon how to manage himself.

“Remaking the Crown would be the most useful thing in the short term. It’d also look good on you.” 

“I’m not remaking the Crown.”

They talk about, and around, the topic of the Watcher’s Crown frequently, and never come to a conclusion. Jonah’s still not permitted anywhere but the very edges of Jon’s mind, and so has no access to this information. It bothers him - he wants to help, but also wishes that his Archivist would be more vulnerable with him, despite knowing there are plenty of reasons not to be.

Jon manages to get to the point where he can separate from Jonah. Not for very long, only an hour and a half or so, but he can. He sighs, staticky through the tape.

“I should be better at this.” Jon says. 

“You went from comparatively nothing to being every single entity, and then you destroyed and remade the entire world, Jon, as well as much of the observable universe, and you did it on your own. I think that’s more than good enough. You’ve done very well.”

One of his favourite things to do is to tell Jon exactly what a good Archivist he’s been. And he has been - he’s worked very, very hard, and endured so much. Jonah couldn’t be more proud. Jon’s reactions are fantastic too, always getting so bashful, trying to internally disprove Jonah’s words whilst also desperately wishing for them to be true. Jonah loves him.

It’s still terrifying to admit that to himself. He’s been more than content with being the monster. Being a monster has meant being powerful, and power is safety. If he doesn’t care about anyone, he can’t be upset if they leave, or despise him. If he hurts people before they hurt him, they’ll be too scared of him to try and kill him.

Well, except Jon. But Jon also brought him back.

The vulnerability of it all - the fact that he loves Jon, and Jon loves him back, in whatever way he can now that he’s comprised of dirt and rot and darkness and death and eyes and viscera and teeth and fog and blood and madness and strangers and stars and threads - is almost too much to bear. Whatever muscle allows him to be vulnerable has long since atrophied in both of them, and it hurts to be using it after all of this time, all of this fear.

But he will, because Jon needs him to be. Jon needs him to be vulnerable, needs him as a frame of reference for humanity, and as a source of emotional fulfilment. 

The first time - where Jon had told him I needed you and Jonah thought he would die (again) from how beautiful he was - was the only time Jon had been vulnerable with him. Nowadays he just... doesn’t, which is fine - Jonah will keep pushing him as he always has - but it does make him a little upset. He feels, strangely enough, like he’s been rejected, even though he hasn’t.

Now that Jon can spend time away from him without adverse side effects (or without very many adverse side effects, as Jon won’t tell him if he’s still in pain or not) he wonders what he’ll do with it. Perhaps he’ll go on walks. Maybe he’ll get up before Jonah does, make breakfast for himself.

He doesn’t, though. He still spends as much time as he can pressed up against Jonah, head in his lap or on his shoulder or using ethereal Eyes to nuzzle against his face like a cat. Adorable.

It is a little worrying, though. The cottage is, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere, and he’s concerned that Jon’s... stagnating somehow. He does very little - Jonah does most of the housekeeping, and Jon mostly sleeps or rests - and Jonah can’t tell if he’s bored, or depressed, or just no longer has any interest in human activities. 

“Do you think you can use your Threads to knit things?” he asks. Jon glares at him - it's another one of Jonah’s inane questions - but considers it for a moment.

“Yes.”

“...well? You could make some gloves. Maybe a hat. I think a scarf would fit you, even with the fur.”

Jon sighs, and summons some Thread and knitting needles. He probably takes a moment to Behold the necessary information to knit, and begins to work. The Thread seems difficult to work with, especially with paws instead of hands, but he starts to get the hang of it. 

Jonah knows this won’t be enough to bring him out of whatever funk he’s in - not on its own, anyways - but it’s a good start.

He continues with this - convincing Jon to breathe fire, at least once, just for fun; gets him to learn how to use the Dark to turn the lights on and off, which Jon immediately takes full advantage of to not have to get out of bed and to scare Jonah; insists he uses the Vast to make an especially detailed landscape painting, which he does. Upon closer inspection, there are eyes everywhere in it, which makes Jonah smile.

It seems to have a tangible effect, too. Jon goes from being made of god-knows-what (or Jon-knows-what?), darkness or ink or simply nothing made real shifting in impossible ways to accommodate his existence, to an actual animal. When Jonah touches him he isn’t near freezing, and doesn’t make his hand go strangely tingly. Now Jon is warm, and Jonah can feel muscles shifting, a heartbeat. Jon still manifests Eyes around the place, but his body typically has two, and in the correct place. Jon’s teeth get smaller, still sharp and impressive but less Hunt-ish, and his antlers lose their fractal qualities. His fur is impossibly soft, and gets tangles in it that he works out with his hands. Jonah takes great delight in informing Jon that he should probably be bathed, and even more delight in adding to his internal list of catlike qualities Jon now possesses, an aversion to water. 

Jon sits very still through the whole process - carefully wetting his fur, and then shampooing him, and then washing him off, and then insisting on clipping his claws, which earns Jonah another growl. This, too, has changed - it’s, curiously, far more animalistic than the first growl had been, and doesn’t soak him in primal terror down to his very marrow. It’s also much more adorable than it is intimidating. Jon glares at him, and tries to bite him for that thought. Jonah uses a hairdryer instead of a towel to annoy him even further.

Jon fills the house with paintings. There’s no real theme that Jonah can distinguish. Some of them are landscapes, nature, some of them are people. Some of them are incredibly photorealistic, some are just blocks of colour composing an understandable image. The ones of people (which are rarer than the others) aren’t people he’s ever met.

He asks, once, about a woman in the living room. She’s not hanging over the fireplace - that is reserved for an entirely blank, slightly off-white painting (would it be called a painting?). 

“She was important once.” Jon says, cryptic as ever. Jonah doesn’t ask again, and instead decides to take this as a good sign, that Jon is decorating.

They’ve been working on his control throughout, and they’ve gotten up to almost an entire day before Jon needs to rest. Jonah goes on walks more often, learning their surroundings. Jon wakes up before him, and makes breakfast. Jonah walks in on him doing this once, and is rather startled to find out that Jon - having difficulty standing on his hind legs - has simply deigned to use the Vast (he thinks, it might be a very complex web that he’s using) to telekinetically control everything he needs from the comfort of the sofa. Jonah’s sort of jealous, if he’s being honest (which he is, because Jon needs him to be honest).

And, despite still not having a mouth, Jon smiles much more often.

#👁️ | my writing #👁️ | beast!jon au #👁️ | entity!jon au #jonelias #jonathan sims #elias bouchard #tma jon #jon tma #elias tma #tma elias #tma spoilers #i was going to write more for this but i ran out of steam rip

[bus-stop-to-kpop]

TXT Reaction #2 - Y/N is scared of fireworks

Requested?: No

Word Count: 100 - 200 each

A/N: I didn’t manage to post this last year so I waited a literal year only to almost miss my time to post it again. (┬┬﹏┬┬) Anyways I hope you have a nice New Years eve and a good start to 2023!! Lots of Love from Admin J

Yeonjun:

Yeonjun was aware of your fear of fireworks, you had told him before but said you would still go to watch them with him.

He was grateful for you trying to put your fear aside for him, but quickly realized you were more uncomfortable that you had predicted.

A few hours before midnight the two of you were strolling around the streets when the first people already started off their fireworks.

Even though you tried to hide your reaction, Yeonjun who had his arm around yo, felt your body flinch with every explosion.

"That's not it. Let's go somewhere else." Before you could even protest Yeonjun was pulling you into the opposite direction.

He came to a stop in front of a karaoke room and pulled you inside with him.

"But you were so excited to watch the fireworks?" You felt guilty about making him miss it. "It doesn't matter, it's the same as last year anyway. This year I wanna enjoy some nice karaoke with you." He smiled brightly to assure you it was fine, before handing you a mic and picking your favorite song.

Soobin:

Soobin gets scared when you tell him there's something he needs to know. The way you sit him down on the sofa and look at him all serious gets him nervous.

His mind wanders, what could have happened for you to be like this. But when you tell him you can't go to watch the fireworks with him because you're scared he just laughs.

Not because he's making fun of you, but simply because he's relieved that it's nothing serious.

Actually as an introvert, he's very happy to be able to stay home together with you instead of being out there in the cold, stuck between the people in the crowd who want to watch the fireworks.

So you order food, play some board games and when it's shortly before midnight Soobin puts on some music so you don't have to hear the explosions of the fireworks.

Beomgyu:

He already knew of your fear, so he didn't even plan to go out. Instead he invites you to his studio, you know, because it's soundproof. The sound of fireworks can't reach you there.

He has various different foods delivered so the two of you can eat all evening long. He even buys a little bit of alcohol from the store nearby, before you arrive.

"Woah, isn't that a bit much." You laugh seeing everything he got spread out on the small table in his studio. Beomgyu insists that all this food is necessary so the two of you survive the night.

After eating you decide to mess around with the equipment recording some stuff as jokes, but Beomgyu surely is going to use it as adlibs in the future only so he can have your voice in one of his songs.

Both of you don't even notice the time has passed so fast and midnight is already over until Beomgyu gets a call from his family to wish both of you a happy new year.

Taehyun:

You didn't tell him about your fear, scared that he would think it's ridiculous and childish, even though Taehyun would never think that.

Deciding that facing your fear might help you get over it, you met up with Taehyun at the park. Looking for a spot to lay down your blanket so you could sit down while watching the fireworks.

Taehyun noticed something was off though, you weren't as cheerful as usual and you seemed nervous.

"Are you alright?" 'He asked as he sat down next to you on the blanket. You nodded your head but it was obvious to Taehyun you were lying so he asked again.

With a sigh you told him about your fear of fireworks and how you had been scared to tell him, not even noticing the single tear rolling down your face until Taehyun wiped it away.

It was too late to go back home now, the clock closing in on midnight, so Taehyun looked through the bag he brought for his noise cancelling headphones to ensure that you could still look at the fireworks without getting scared by the loud explosions, while he held you close to him to keep you calm and protected.

Huening Kai:

Kai had brought you to a New Years Party with him, without knowing of your fear.

At first it was all fun and games, you were having fun at the party with Kai and his friends, laughing and drinking.

But the closer it got to midnight the more nervous you got. It was obvious everyone was excited for the fireworks but you.

So when everyone went to gather outside to watch them you excused yourself to the restroom for a minute.

Kai was nervous, it was only a minute until midnight and you still weren't back, were you feeling unwell? He decided to go look for you, getting confused when he found the restroom empty.

He finally found you in the kitchen looking outside while holding yourself to calm you down. Kai hurries to you asking what's wrong, so you have no choice but to explain your fear to him.

Kai hugs you tightly as fireworks start going off outside, "I want you to feel comfortable an safe." He doesn't mind if that means he won't get to the see the fireworks.

#txt #txt reaction #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt fanfic #txt kpop #txt yeonjun x reader #txt soobin x reader #txt beomgyu x reader #txt taehyun x reader #txt huening kai x reader #kpop #kpop reaction #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #admin j

[minheelovelee]

Losing your Virginities - M

Virgin!Mu x Virgin!Reader

Warnings: Afab. Femme. Sub!mu. Dom!reader.

- he’s such a beautiful boy. i feel like your first time would be sort of dreamy. there’s a lot of love and a gentle feeling. later in the relationship you can do whatever the fuck you want with him.

- imagine him taking you stargazing. driving somewhere without light pollution and seeing planets and shit. so romantic. he tells you he loves you and you’re the brightest star in his sky. something so cute that you decide he should get to hit.

- you’re both laying on a blanket, facing each other. he’d reach out to touch your face just to stare at you. lean in and kiss him please! he might pussy out.

- the kissing would start innocent. but there’s so much passion between the two of you that it couldn’t be helped. you end up topless with ruined lip gloss.

- he’d pull you nice and close. making sure that he’s touching as much of your body as possible. there’s grass blades and dirt on the blanket so he keeps getting itchy.

- sitting up, he’ll pull you close to straddle him. his shirt ends up on the ground too. the view of your face with a clear sky in the background is a lot. he’s feeling a little overwhelmed, so he wordlessly lets you take control of the situation.

- his hands rest on your thighs and he gives you the shiniest coochie eyes. what a doll. “i want you, kyungmin. right here.” a shocked expression takes over his face. “outside? here?”

- “why not? you’re already shirtless.” it’s true. “i don’t wanna get caught…”

- “let’s go behind the car then. better than your army barracks bedroom.” that was enough for him. he drags the blanket over to the small space between his car and the thick greenery. no one would see you there unless they wanted to. a wide open field under the the stars is a more romantic place to get fucked, but this will have to do.

- you spread the blanket out and resume your position. “do you have protection, kyungmin?”

- “no. do you have anything in your purse?”

- “no. im on birth control though. will you pull out in time?” it’s risky, but you’re both crazy horny. “i can try.”

- “attaboy.”

- he leans back on his hands when you kiss his neck. he’s gotten to know your lips pretty well. but the way you’re kissing him tonight feels different. he knows you’re serious. it feels nice to be wanted so badly by someone he loves.

- when you unhook your bra, he pulls it off for you. he plants a few kisses on each one while you watch him. he takes your right nipple into his mouth and grabs your waist. he feels you take sharp breaths when he uses his teeth. “kyungmin, be nice.” he just looks at you and smiles.

- you unbutton his jeans and help him slide them down. he does the same with your drawstring and shorts. seeing you in just panties is a dream.

- you push him down to lean on his elbows. scooting up his body, you sit yourself on his clothed cock. he shivers when you do so. not because he’s cold.

- checking for a reaction, you grind yourself forward, creating delicious friction for both parties. he throws his head back, exposing his neck to you.

- you take the chance to grab the side of his neck with your right hand and his shoulder in your left. he snaps his head back up to see if you’re being serious. you don’t apply pressure to his neck, just letting the hand sit there.

- now that you have something to hold onto, you grind yourself down some more. kyungmin’s lips part wordlessly and his eyes screw shut. he’s never felt your pussy this close to his cock before. usually you have two more layers between them. it feels so fucking good, but he’s too scared to let out any noises.

- keeping your steady movements, you let your hand apply a little pressure to his neck. no pushing, just a small squeeze. his head spins from the intimacy of the act. he bites his lip and thrusts up to meet your movements.

- the pleasure becomes more prominent. you can’t help but squeeze a bit tighter on his long neck. his pale chest is now flushed, he’s so worked up.

- you decide to let him have the real thing. when you stop all contact, kyungmin whines. he looks away quickly though, pretending it wasnt him. “i like those noises you make, baby. no one’s here to hear you besides me. let me hear how good i make you feel.”

- he thinks for a second while biting his lip, then nods. “okay.”

- “good. you ready for me to fuck you?” he nods again, this time he doesn’t have to think about it. “lay down for me.”

- you bunch up your clothes to create a pillow for him. both of you still have underwear on. it’s best to have a little clothing while you’re on the ground.

- he lays out for you nice and pretty. he has his hands besides his head while he watches you pull his cock out. just your cold fingertips make him hiss.

- “so pretty, minnie. i’d put you in my mouth, but i don’t want you to cum too quick. you’re already leaking.” it’s true. he’s so worked up. he’s a little worried that he’ll cum the second you sit on him, but he tries not to think about it. instead he just says a shy thank you.

- you pull your panties to the side and line yourself up with his cock. rocking your hips a bit, you let his head rub your clit, lubricating him a bit more. he whimpers quietly as you tease him. “ready?” you ask once more.

- “yes please.” he’s so polite.

- you push the tip into your hole. he’s not that thick, but he’s longer than average. the initial stretch burns for a second, but you’re all set after a few seconds. kyungmin on the other hand, is a mess.

- he’s had tears in his eyes for the past few minutes, threatening to fall. they finally drip down his temples after his tip slides in. he never imagined this is what you’d feel like. you’re sopping wet and warmer than his hand ever could be. “oh my god. fuck!”

- “‘s it good, baby? pussy feels nice?” he’s so easy to tease. his hands fly to his flushed face. a muffled “oh fuck. yes.” leaves his lips

- “yeah? how nice does it feel?” you slide yourself down so the majority of his shaft is inside.

- his back arches off the ground. he’s sooo sensitive right now. “so nice! so warm and tight and wet. love it ‘n i love you!” he’s so sentimental too.

- you let him bottom out. “i love you too. so much. you fill me up s- so good.” you feel completely full, never having taken something this big before.

- he guides his hands back to your hips and squeezes hard enough to bruise your skin tomorrow. he takes some deep breaths, and when he looks more composed, you lift yourself off his cock a bit.

- going back down, you feel him poke at your walls. his cock reaches spots inside you that are too deep for your little fingers to touch. you continue your movements, finding a pace that works for you.

- he cant help but jerk his hips up into you, following the pleasure whenever it goes. you change the speed based on how he thrusts, creating a steady rhythm to meet both of your needs.

- his cock twitches when you lay your hands on his chest. “hnnng. fu-. i’m gonna cum soon, baby. ‘m sorry.”

- you quicken the pace. “‘s okay baby. you’ll make it up to me, right?” he nods furiously. “yeah. yeah ‘m g-.”

- you pull yourself off, not wanting him to finish inside. you wrap your hand around his cock and give him a few tugs, knowing he was so close. his broken moans are whiny and so adorable. His cock twitches once more in your hand and he finishes on his tummy.

- he twitches in the aftershock of his orgasm and looks at you lovingly. you interlock your fingers and he finds the strength to sit up.

- “that was so fuckin’ good. give me a second to clean up.” he grabs his shirt and uses it to wipe himself clean. “kyungmin that’s your shirt you were just wearing!”

- “yeah. I’ll just go back shirtless.” he flashes you with a dopey smile. crawling over to you, he tells you to lay down, and that your legs probably hurt. he’s such a sweetheart, thinking about what your body is needing.

- when you lay down, he lays on his tummy between your legs. your panties slid themselves back into place. he plants a kiss at the top of your pussy and trails more down to your opening. he sets his tongue flat and licks from the bottom to the top. you shudder in his grip. he’s never shown any form of dominance to you before. but now he’s switching things up.

- his left thumb hooks your underwear and pulls them to the side, opening you up further. it’s then when he starts to lose himself in you.

- he doesn’t hold back when it comes to eating you out. his lips, tongue, and teeth are all used to sloppily bring you to the edge. his eagerness to please makes up for his inexperience. you wiggle around a bit, but he places an arm on your hips to keep you down.

- when you tell him you’re close, he flashes those pretty eyes at you. the only thing he wants right now is your cum on his face. it takes a few more sucks on your clit before you’re sent over the edge. he doesn’t subside at first, licking you clean. but when you pull him away by his hair, he shows a guilty-looking smile.

- after, y’all would look at the stars and redress. you’ll praise him for his good work and he’ll hide in your boobs.

- when he checks his phone, he got 20 texts from his roommates asking him if he got eaten by a bear. the trip was extended a bit.

- he’s so happy he just got to fuck you. that fact that you came from him going down on you is pretty dope too.

- he’ll drive you home and probably get you fast food on the way. post-sex munchies are real.

- when he gets home and remembers he doesn’t have a shirt he’s like oh fuck. but it’s okay because he runs inside while you carry his drink.

- he had such a good time. It was the closest thing to a dream he’s ever experienced. definitely would mention to his friends that his gf lets him fuck raw. he’s a boy’s boy.

#Epex smut #mhll epex #mhll mu

[ogdoadfates]

It was only a cough #3 Crown of madness

Thought I’d try doing it this way! This is chapter #3! So I’d recommend going back and reading the previous two chapters if you haven’t already! ( ao3 post )

Poor Vex is spiraling a little.

Vex can feel Percy's gaze burrowing its way into her as she watches the sleeping figures of her brother and his girlfriend. The night was rather uneventful, the only cause of disturbance was the occasional awakening due to Keyleth coughing her lungs out every few hours. 

She doesn’t know how her brother is dealing with it, with any of this. She cares for Keyleth of course, though it’d take a lot for her to admit it she thinks of her as family, but if anything worse were to happen to her Vex fears that Vax would never recover. Not to mention she can’t help but imagine how she’d feel if she was in his place.

She’d probably have gone outside and shot whatever wildlife she could find if Percy kept something like this from her. Gods they need to work on getting Keyleth some self worth. 

With a huff she finally turns her gaze to lock with Percy’s, who once eye contact is made walks over to her. Leaning against the same wall as her, the two just look at each other. 

Gods she didn’t even think about how this affects him, Keyleth is practically his sister in all but blood, his eyes look lost but yet still present and Vex is so grateful for it. 

“Pike and I counted last night, we have enough food to last us a week and a half. We can stretch it to two full weeks if we limit ourselves even more.” Vex inhales sharply at Percy’s words, softly knocking the back of her head against the wall breaking her gaze with Percy to instead stare blankly at the ceiling. They’ve already been limiting themselves with how much they could eat and none of them are at a healthy weight at this point but what can they do? “Pike and Grog are checking out the kitchen and storage rooms again just in case we missed something the first time but I wouldn’t hold my breath.” She just nods and rests one of her hands on her face.

“What of the medicine, as much as I do care about the amount of food we have it won’t matter if we don’t have enough medication.” She could feel Percy shuffling his feet once she asked the question. Vex pinches the bridge of her nose in preparation for the answer to her question, because judging by Percy’s reaction she is not going to like the answer.

“We should have enough as long as Keyleth gets better in the time you and Pike estimated but we’re not going to have much if any medicine afterwards. We’re lucky we have the amount we currently do.” Fucking shit balls. Vex curses in her mind, the resounding thunk of her hitting the back of her head against the wall ringing throughout the room causing Percy to flinch and for her poor brother to blot right up at the noise which consequently wakes up Keyleth.

Vex curses under her breath, watching Vax try to convince Keyleth to go back to sleep to no avail. Her brother helps Keyleth sit up with her back leaning against the headboard, Vex can tell her brother would much rather have Keyleth rest but also knows once she makes up her mind she won’t stop.

She teases the two a lot but to be honest she couldn’t have asked for anyone better for her brother. He’d been dancing around his feelings for so long till he finally confessed, which Keyleth couldn’t discern her own feelings at the time and then all this happened. Vex wouldn’t lie she was a little put off about her brother liking Keyleth at first, not because Vex didn’t like her, far from it actually she was one of the twins first real friends after all. 

No what's always scared Vex was Keyleth’s health, she isn’t constantly sickly but she does get sick more easily and when she does get ill; six out of ten times it’s bad or at least that used to be the ratio but now it’s starting to seem to have changed to nine out of ten times. It terrifies her for her brother, herself, and well everyone else's sake. Keyleth in a way is everyone's glue, she was the one who introduced everyone to each other, well minus those who knew each other before. If something happened to her, she doesn’t know how any of them would cope.

Suddenly she feels Percy grab her shoulder tightly which is when she realizes she’d just been blankly staring at Keyleth for an indeterminable amount of time. Her brother is looking at her with barely concealed fear. Oh great, good going Vex. You’re scaring the fuck out of everyone. 

“Just got lost in thought for a moment.” She says, seeing only a little bit of the tension leave her brother’s posture. Vex walks forward, Percy releasing his grip but thankfully following close behind her. “How’re you feeling?” She says to Keyleth.

It took Keyleth a minute to process that she was asked a question, being groggy from just waking up as well as her body hating everything.

“About the same as last night.” Keyleth coughed as the words grated her scratchy throat, the three others flinching at the hoarse and strained sound of Keyleth’s voice.Vax gives her a concerned look before getting up out of the bed and starts to look through their supplies.

“I’m taking you mean after we gave you the meds and just nod yes or no.” Vex says sitting on the edge of the bed. Keyleth thinks for a moment before finally nodding her head yes. Vex’ahlia sighs with some relief, her shoulders relaxing a little, as Vax comes back onto the bed rejoining Keyleth with a water bottle in his hands. “Well at least it hasn’t gotten worse. Have you ever been sick like this before?’

This gives Keyleth pause, having to think back to the numerous times she’s gotten sick. She shakes her head, she’s gotten bad before but not like this. Vax nudges her shoulder a little, unscrewing the bottle and helping her drink. Gods the relief her throat feels is heavenly but at the same time she laments how that relief will only last a few seconds.

The four of them stay in the room for a while, Vex asking Keyleth more in detail about what she’s feeling and what they all think might help. Till Vex tells them she’s going to check on Pike and Grog, Percy going to follow her after giving Keyleth a gentle hug. 

And then it was just Keyleth, Vax, and Minxie.

Keyleth rests her head the best she can onto Vax’s shoulder, he picks up one of her hands and gently plays with her fingers. The two of them taking in the comfort of having the other there as she lets her mind wander. 

#apocolaypse au #vex'ahlia #percy x vex #vex #percahlia #percy de rolo #vax'ildan #vax #vaxleth #keyleth #vax x keyleth #autistic keyleth #keyleth x vax #vaxleth fanfic #vaxleth fanfiction #ao3 vaxleth #criticalrole #critical role #criticalrole fanfic #critical role fanfiction #It was only a cough

[burntcactii]

thinking about cartoon Joey with the power physics of Rebirth Joey again

The shenanigans he would get into. If his spirit-self could just roam around instead of immediately transferring into a body.

Following that idea if things were just Fucking Weird for him while he was in that limbo space between bodies and stuck as this weird little shadow

Whether that’s seeing people’s auras or maybe even just being able to hear what they’re thinking in that subliminal space. Experiencing their emotions in a very psychedelic out of body way has a lot of cool potential. 

Ex: the reason it’s harder for him to possess someone going through stronger emotions like fear or rage is because in that limbo space their emotions develop into Real Actual Things Joey has to get through like being overwhelmed translating into an actual sonic noise that Joey has to force himself through

100% would be frankly terrified and embarrassed of his ability to do this at first, soon learns that his friends don’t care and/or think it is cool, so he learns the potential of Eavesdropping with this

He also learns the consequences of Eavesdropping with this

Consider: no one can see him when he’s in this shadow-like form except for people who are in touch with magic or the limbo space Joey goes into (i.e. Raven, The Herald to some degree, Kyd Wykkyd, etc.)

Raven and Joey 100% bond over this. Raven tries to play it cool but low-key she’s ecstatic over the fact that there’s someone else who kind of understands her darker magic and doesn’t think she’s weird for it

Joey tries not to think about how this shadow form also doesn't have a mouth, and can’t speak. It causes some bad emotions to come up when he thinks about how his trauma is so imbued into his DNA that even his spiritual self carries it with him.

GREAT for Halloween. Tragic because Joey refuses to try to actively scare anyone and would rather watch The Craft with Raven.

People have varying reactions to seeing Joey’s weird little shadow form in person

Raven tends to just silently acknowledge his presence in her room and continue doing whatever she’s doing. Joey only ever tends to sneak in like that when he’s tried to escape a conversation or he’s having a bad day and doesn’t feel like himself in his own body. Raven’s room is her place to go to when she feels like that, so she’s glad Joey feels safe enough to take up space with her when he feels that way. He’ll usually just read whatever Raven is reading over her shoulder or play What Happens If I Touch This until Raven gives him The Eye

It’s about 30/70 whether Herald can see him or not. When he does he tends to not know what to do about it. Joey will give him a little wave and Herald will either pretend not to see him (he does NOT have time to make sense of what Joey’s doing right now. As long as it doesn’t involve him he does not care.) or he’ll awkwardly wave back and find a reason to pretend it never happened (this goes for 3 months before Joey tells him that no, he is not hallucinating)

See-More was fiddling with his specs once and ended up making a lens that allowed him to see into that limbo space Joey goes into, sufficiently scaring the mess out of him. Joey got TOO excited TOO quickly and See-More got so scared he fell out of his chair and ended up breaking the lens. It’s an inside joke with Joey and Kyd and that they both pretend they have no idea what See-More is talking about and that obviously he is crazy. See-More is a little more wary of Joey after that.

Kyd is very mellow about it compared to everyone else. He spends a lot of time in his own limbo with the teleporting- kind of like a pocket dimension. He thinks it’s cute how different it is for each of them, though. Kyd’s pocket dimension is more of something like a black hole- just endless space. Joey’s is more in tune to emotion and the spiritual world and frankly way more colorful. Sometimes Joey will sneak in to hang out with Kyd when Raven’s gotten too annoyed with him, and Kyd also tends to just silently acknowledge his presence and go about his day. The rest of the HIVE aren’t sure why, but Kyd seems Significantly more content when this happens. 

Ironically, Melvin of all people is able to see him the most. Everyone else sees him as a shadow on the wall or maybe a half formed being, but Melvin is able to see him clear as day and at any time he does this. Neither of them are sure why, but Joey doesn’t tend to question things. He likes just hanging out with Melvin out of body sometimes. It lets him play tea party with her without worrying what the other Titans will say, and sometimes he likes just living in Melvin’s world, where the worst thing she ever worries about is whether or not her bears are in order by height. The other Titans tend to think Melvin is playing with an imaginary friend.

I have A Lot To Say about how Joey sees himself in Melvin and would die for her if asked to but I will not say it here

EXTREMELY EXTREMELY influenced by @ghostly-melody’s Jericho redesigns and his funky little shadow form

#joey wilson #Jericho wilson #kyd wykkyd #jerikyd. if you squint #see more tt #raven tt #Melvin tt #oh the urge to just make essay long posts about Jericho's relationships to other titans and characters

[vs-redemption]

Soft Sunday request

All Mattsun(shirt not required 🤣)

He helps make his and yours lunch. He basically took over cooking while you’re on a two week medical leave from work. Doesn’t stop you from just sitting by the counter watching him cook and taste test.

*I think Mattsun is the other Osamu in terms of cooking. He might not have a desire to open a restaurant but he does enjoy it*

—Mattsun some how convince you to keep him company while he plays an indie horror game based on his occupation. Of course he goes mortician information geek which takes away some the scary impacts. Nevertheless you are not a fan of his chosen game. But he cuddles you after while you watch kids movie to calm your nerves after.

—Mattsun who’s thirst traps you after his insane workouts that Iwaizumi definitely test out on him before running it on his pro athlete clients. Can’t convince me that’s key to how Mattsun stays in drool worthy shape. Bonus you get to massage his sore muscles.

I missed your headcanons so much! I've been craving some Mattsun content too! hehe Thank you for sending these in. They brought a smile to my face today. Love you!

Soft Sunday: Mattsun Headcanons

Men being good at cooking is my weakness. Something tells me half the reason he takes over the cooking is because he likes the way you sit and watch him. It can't be helped though. He looks so good moving around the kitchen, probably doing that thing where he keeps a towel draped over his shoulder.

Once again, I'm thinking he's getting more entertainment and satisfaction from your reactions than the actual game. Every time you gasp or make a noise of disgust he's chuckling to himself. Totally worth the jump scares and the grotesque effects when you get to cuddle him after. He gets points for singing along to any of the songs in the kids movies too.

He probably waits until he knows you're at work or with your friends to send you the pictures from his workouts, getting a kick out of knowing you'll have to try to hide your reaction from whoever is around when you open his message. He always looks forward to the "you'll pay for that!" reply because the punishments for his actions are really more like rewards in his opinion. hehe.

Send in Soft Sunday headcanons for your favorite character!

#Soft Sunday #obitobrigade💖 #best moot squad #Issei Matsukawa x Reader #Issei Matsukawa Headcanons #Haikyuu x Reader #Haikyuu Headcanons #Mattsun Headcanons #Mattsun x Reader

[the-void-writes]

HAPPY STS

I liked this question and I feel like you did too >:]

So ... Rank you OCs by their general loudness. 😏 (Can be SFW or NSFW, since it's from me 😏❤️✨)

@bloodlessheirbyjacques

@bloodlessheirbyjacques 😏😏😏 Both is good 🤣 I’ll just do a few people from the Paradise crew

For the ranking: 1 is the quietest, 10 is the loudest.

Gazali: 5

He’s the perfect in-between. He loves talking with people and being a good host, but he can be gentle and quiet whenever someone needs it, like Frank. Sometimes if he’s excited, his deep voice makes things shake, but it’s not an everyday occurrence, so his citizens don’t have to worry too much.

Frank: 3

Keeps to himself unless he’s with friends, but even then, he’s still pretty quiet. But when he laughs, it’s pretty loud, and it tends to scare people who don’t know him that well. Alex told a joke once and almost fell over when Frank reacted to it.

Alex: 7

Between flirting with Javi and play-fighting in the amphitheater, he’s pretty loud. People aren’t too surprised when they hear Irish swearing in the distance.

Javi: 6

Only slightly quieter than Alex because of his new voice, but he sings a bit and is just as big of a flirt as Alex.

Pedra: 5

Like the king, she’s a great in-between. She taunts and laughs during swordfights, but she can turn around and put someone to sleep with her voice.

Josephine: 4

Fairly quiet, speaks elegantly, sings Sophie to sleep whenever she’s scared. It’s even scarier if she’s mad at someone because they never hear her coming.

Dante: 6

Party guy, loves chatting and being obnoxious to Gazali. Does a lot of the talking whenever he knows Will’s not feeling well.

Will: 2

This guy is just too tired and sore to speak most of the time. When he has the energy, though, he’s still really quiet. It’s almost a struggle to hear him. He mumbles to himself a lot.

Spicier answers under the cut. 18+ only.

Gazali: 4

Kind of quiet during the act, but mostly because he’s invested in his partner’s pleasure. He’ll whisper and tease them and smile to himself because they’re so cute. But he can be vocal, if you find the right spot.

Frank: 20

This nerd can SCREAM 🤣 Those secret kinks of his don’t help matters, either. But Gazali adores it and is very loving and tender with him. He makes sure Frank doesn’t hurt himself, and may or may not be taking notes on which things get the loudest reaction. Frank may yell at his partners for teasing him, but deep down, he’s happy to finally indulge himself.

Alex: 5

He’s actually quieter whenever he sleeps with someone, which Javi thinks is cute. Alex is still vocal, though, he just makes these sweet, soft little noises of bliss. Of course, if he and Javi are trying something new, he won’t be able to control his volume.

Javi: 6

Javi’s volume does not go down 😂 He is loud in and out of the bedroom. He and Alex spent way too long hiding their love from the world, and now Javi wants everyone to know how much he loves his husband. He can literally hold a conversation with Alex while they’re going at it.

Pedra: 4

Again, slightly quieter during intimacy. She just adores her wife so much and wants her to know that she’s the only one who makes her feel this excited. When they’re out on the boat, though, they can be as loud as they want 😏

Josephine: 5

Would have been a 3, but Pedra has encouraged her to let loose and express her feelings. Her wife is very good at making her more vocal.

Dante: 4

Just like his king (but don’t tell him that or he’ll explode), Dante loves his partner’s pleasure. He could literally get drunk off of it (Empathy powers, baby). With Will, he likes to make little jokes in between just to keep Will’s anxiety down. Sometimes he can’t help it and starts going off about how much he loves his partner. He also gets more vocal when someone praises or compliments him, which Will is happy to do.

Will: 3

Would have been completely silent if Dante wasn’t so good to him. He’s scared that he’ll mess something up, but Dante always reassures him. He cries a bit just because the feelings are new and overwhelming, and after Dante makes sure that he isn’t hurting him, they go at a softer pace.

#writeblr #sts #spicy writing stuff #void spice

[inzaynety]

your serenade ⤫

➢ summary: the reassurance of a “lub-dub”

➢ content: zayne x fem!reader; 954 words; fluff & a little angst; my attempt at character analysis; some background is based off of his tender moment (fragmented dreams)

➢ notes: the day came when i finally raised his heart rate 🤭 also i love how they make him so sarcastic yet so loving over you i cry

Zayne is cradled against you as you both lay in bed. It’s nearing midnight and he knows that the both of you need to get up early tomorrow, but he can’t find it in himself to fall asleep. You’ve already been sent to dreamland and he feels warmth in his chest when your hold on him tightens whenever you find yourself releasing him subconsciously. 

Your soft breaths sway the stray hairs on the top of his head and your chest rises and falls with each one. It hadn't been that long since you said good night and it always surprises him with how quickly you fall asleep. Once your head hits the pillow, you’re out like a light. It’s an opposite reaction to what you’ve been telling as of late: that some nightmares keep you up.

Although, whenever you sleep with him beside you, it comes so easily. He thinks he’s giving himself too much credit. 

But he wishes it was the same for him. 

There have been times when he wakes up slumped over on his desk in his office chair, not remembering when he closed his eyes and dozed off. Work is always tiring but at the same time it’s worthwhile. Though, the exhaustion and simultaneous inability to sleep were getting to him. The former was inevitable, but the latter was what scared him

No, the reason wasn’t because he was worried about not getting enough sleep–that’s what you thought. He never told you the main reason why. 

All he’s seen lately was you in his dreams. They start light and he thinks he’s had a permanent smile etched onto his face there when you show up. But then it changes. Wanderers come from all sides and all he can do is watch as you fight. 

The waves keep coming and coming and it’s like they ignore his presence and keep their targets on you. He can’t tear his eyes away from the sight when you’re slowly consumed by them and he tries to yell, but no noise comes out. 

Then he jerks awake. Every time. 

He can’t do anything.

He breathes out a huff just thinking about it, hands coming to absentmindedly tap your sides, soft and slow. 

It was definitely past twelve now the tiredness will definitely catch up to him during the day. 

He half expects you to wake up out of nowhere like you do sometimes, whether it be when you have an unpleasant dream or even when you shift away from him. But no, you seem to be sleeping so soundly now. He likes how you are when you do wind up awake and don’t want to fall back asleep until he does first; you almost always wake him up along the way.

“Alright,” he tilts his head back, “don’t come whining to me when you’re exhausted tomorrow. You’re quite a handful.”

“I thought you didn’t mind?” You retort and click your tongue. Zayne smiles and pushes your head to him, planting a kiss on your forehead. He can’t have you offended for too long.

His eyes trail up to your sleeping face and he thinks as to why this is the first time he’s looked at you like this all night. Your eyes are shut and your mouth is slightly parted, definitely in your deepest part of sleep when you don’t move as he pulls away slightly to get a better look at you.

Zayne brings his hand to the side of your neck, feeling the warm skin under his palm and it’s an action he does a lot. He realized this a while back.

While he can hold your cheek and let your head rest in his hands, sometimes you bite. You bite and lick and do whatever it is instead of staying still when his hand is on your face that one day he holds you elsewhere and it’s like you’ve reset. And to this day after that you smile when he does this.

And another thing. 

His thumb brushes against your pulse point and he leaves it theorem awaiting the faint thumping. It’s not the most accurate measurement but it’s enough to let him know. 

You’re still there. You’re still alive. 

Here, he can do anything. 

He allows himself to leave his hand there for a few more moments until you decide to switch up your sleeping position. He lets you pull him along and finds himself with his head on your chest.

And there he hears it.

Thump thump thump.

He hears it during your regular visits to the office and you would think he’d be used to it by now. It’s a rhythmic pattern he’s heard over and over and it’s not just from you either. The elderly, adults, children, and babies have varying speeds and prominence–but they’re not yours. Monitoring it for the sake of your health has had him grown accustomed to its particular sound. 

He blinks, unwilling to move lest you actually open your eyes this time. It’s right under his ear as clear as day; he can’t move.

HIs breathing quiets, all he wants to hear is that.

You’re there with him. You’re sleeping beside him. You’re alive.

Your job saves lives, much like his, but there never is a guarantee that yours will make it out to the end of the day. Not with those wanderers around.

So when you come home and settle yourself to him, he reaches for this. Finally, he closes his eyes.

–

Your body feels heavy when you wake up, only to find the reason when you look down. Deciding quickly, you remain where you are. It doesn’t hurt to stay an extra five minutes when Zayne sleeps so soundly against you.

#zayne x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne fluff #zayne angst #fics