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bellaxgiornata · 10 months

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Falling For the Devil [Part eighty-seven: "The Week of Distractions"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matt spend your first week living together and quickly find out just how distracting you both are to each other.

Or Lots of sex ensues.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 17.9k (yes, you read that right)

a/n: This installment is just smut. Lots of it. I'll mention there's Dom/Sub undertones, rough sex, and face-fucking in this installment (let me know if anything else might need to be noted). We do not get the full smut scenes because it's a smut montage and this would've gotten even more out of hand in length. I'd also like to thank @theetherealbloom for Monday's scene inspired by an ask! There is alternating POVs but I messed up and the last two are Reader (I was too tired to rewrite it at that point) and we get ALL the sides of Matt in here plus Spicy Reader. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @lina-mar @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle

Saturday

Matt’s fingers ran over the braille reader as he sat at the kitchen table, rereading a file on his laptop. Foggy had emailed him a handful of files yesterday morning before they’d left the office early to help you unpack and move into his place. Matt hadn't planned on looking at them over the weekend, he didn't think he’d have a chance to work on them until he was back in the office on Monday, but you’d been exhausted all morning today so Matt had suggested you take a nap after lunch. Which was what you were currently doing on the leather sofa nearby, his blanket draped over you.

You’d fallen asleep probably fifteen minutes ago now and Matt had quickly become very absorbed in the case he was working on. It had truthfully been frustrating him, though. There were a few particular details that he couldn’t seem to make sense of no matter how hard he tried. He’d read them over and over, running a hand through his hair in frustration and quietly cursing to himself. He was about ready to pull up his email and send a message to Foggy when he heard you make a soft noise from over on the couch.

Matt’s hand hesitated on the braille reader, his ears perking up before his head turned in your direction. He hadn’t been paying much attention to your sleeping form over on the couch while he had been working, knowing how tired you’d been since it had taken you so long to finally relax and fall asleep last night. Though after his talk with you in the kitchen around three in the morning, he’d noticed your nerves had leveled back out to their usual state and stayed there. Which he assumed meant you’d finally calmed and were beginning to adjust to living together now.

But as he focused on you just to his left, he was almost instantly hit with the scent of your arousal in the air. Matt felt his cock twitch in his sweatpants in response. How had he not noticed it earlier? Admittedly it was very faint, likely because you’d only recently become turned on by whatever it was you were dreaming about–something Matt was rapidly becoming curious about.

As he tuned in closer to your body, he noticed your pulse was a little faster than usual when you were asleep. Even your breathing was hitching ever so slightly, something his ears were easily able to pick up on when he focused. No doubt you were dreaming about something sexual. That thought had Matt’s mind quickly shifting away from his work, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips.

It had been a few days since you’d both had sex–since Wednesday morning, to be exact. Right before he’d had to leave your place for work and you’d had to get ready for work yourself. Though Tuesday night had certainly been something at your place, but it had been the only time this week you and Matt had had sex. He’d been craving it–craving that connection with you again–which was probably why he’d been so overzealous Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, but he’d known you’d been stressed and busy this week with the move and hadn’t bothered to bring up sex since.

Matt’s eyes snapped shut the moment you made another noise. It was a soft hum that vibrated in the back of your throat, something that sounded like a muffled moan. Jaw clenched, Matt turned away from you in his chair and tried to focus back on his braille reader. It didn’t feel right that he was sitting here listening to you like this while you weren’t even awake.

For a few minutes he tried hard to ignore the growing scent of your arousal, but it was no longer just lightly wafting towards him. No, now the scent of it was beginning to hang heavy in the air around him. Not only that, but he’d heard the gentle rustle of fabric as your thighs involuntarily squirmed together in your sleep, which was clearly only further increasing Matt’s favorite smell through the apartment.

Hanging his head in his hands as he slumped over the kitchen table, he became achingly aware that he was already half hard. Would it be so wrong if he disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes? Took care of himself while you were asleep? Would jerking off to the scent of you in the air really be that wrong?

Before he could come to a conclusion, he’d heard you lightly moan again. Except this time it was followed by the softest, pleasure-filled utterance of his name in your sleep. Matt’s eyes once again snapped shut before he pressed the heels of his palms against them.

This was sheer torture. Was it always going to be like this with you here now? With your arousal often coating the air around him, wonderfully suffocating him? He wasn’t sure he would survive that, not without constantly needing to fulfil the urge to either fuck you or bury his face in your cunt.

It didn’t help that he heard you calling his name again, the scent of you strong in his nose. With the heels of his hands still pressed against his closed eyes, his lips parted. Matt let the faint taste of you roll onto his tongue, a quiet whimper falling out of him as he heard you say his name again. His hips shifted on the chair, an uncomfortable feeling tightening in his gut. He needed to do something about his growing erection, there was no other option. But as he removed his face from his hands, he startled when he felt something touch his shoulder.

“Shit, sorry Matt!” you said, immediately withdrawing what was apparently your hand on him. “I was trying to get your attention for the past minute. You weren’t answering and you looked like you were in pain and I–”

He had turned towards you in the chair, hearing the way your words had cut off and your pulse had sped up when he did. No doubt you’d immediately noticed the tent of his sweatpants. Seconds later he heard you curse as you most likely pieced together why he was in his current state. And then immediately after that he swore he caught the spike in adrenaline in conjunction with the increase in that particular scent.

“Oh, I–I didn’t realize…” you trailed off.

Matt shot you a sheepish smile. “I guess this is something I didn’t exactly think about, either. Having you here all the time means you’re going to, well, become aroused at times and…that tends to have an effect on me. Obviously.”

Matt heard the way you were shifting back and forth on your feet in front of him, your lip slipping between your teeth. He wished it was his teeth gnawing on the soft flesh instead of yours–and that thought didn’t help his current situation.

“Do you…need to keep working?” you asked him carefully.

A slow smile slid across Matt’s mouth before he turned even further towards you in the chair. “No,” he answered huskily. “I don’t need to work at all, actually. I was just keeping busy while you napped. Why, do you care to share what you were dreaming about?”

“Well,” you began, gradually lowering down to your knees before him, “I can show you what it was about, if you’d like?”

“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, enjoying the flirtatiousness in your tone as your hands landed on his thighs. “I would definitely like that.”

He felt your hands sensually slide up his thighs, the warmth of them lingering behind on his skin beneath his sweatpants and causing Matt’s cock to further strain against its confines uncomfortably. Your fingers curled around the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers before gradually pulling them just halfway down his thighs. His hard cock sprang forth immediately, a faint sigh of relief falling out of him.

As your hands landed back on his now bare upper thighs, your fingers running through the hair along his legs, Matt’s ears picked up on the excited noise that you emitted ever so softly. It was so quiet he was sure you hadn’t even realized you had made it. Your breathing had picked up, too, coming in faster and heavier. His own heart accelerated in his chest at the sound of your tongue gliding along your lips hungrily as one of your hands made its way towards his cock.

You were becoming even more increasingly aroused now because you wanted to suck his cock–you were eager for it. Your body was practically screaming that at Matt. And that in itself was only further exciting him.

Your warm, soft hand gripped the base of him and Matt’s eyelids slowly fluttered closed at the contact. You had gripped him with the slightest of pressure and it had him desperate for more. He could tell how close your mouth had lowered to him, the heat of your breath falling over the sensitive skin of his cock with each exhale that passed between your plush lips. A moment later he felt the warm drip of your saliva land on the tip of him. Matt fought the urge to buck up into your hand as he impatiently waited for more, already longing to feel any part of you.

Fortunately you didn't keep him waiting much longer, either. Your hand slid up the length of him, coating his cock in your saliva with a few pumps of your fist around him. Then he felt your warm tongue lightly swipe over the head of his cock, swirling a few times around it. Behind his closed lids, Matt's eyes momentarily rolled back. His lips parted once again, the taste of your arousal still thick in the air as it landed along his tongue. He was practically salivating at the tangy sweetness of it.

"This is what you were dreaming about, sweetheart?" Matt breathed out, enjoying the feel of your tongue gradually licking up the length of him. "My cock in your mouth? That's what you wanted?"

Your mouth sucked the tip of him straight inside before you hummed out an affirmative noise to his question. The vibration from your mouth shot straight up through the length of him, a burst of pleasure racing through Matt’s entire body. He groaned low in response, the noise a deep rumble in his chest.

You had become exceptionally good at giving him head–honestly you'd become amazing at everything with him in the bedroom. Gradually he'd noticed that you had learned how to use his heightened senses to make him feel unbelievably good instead of accidentally overstimulating him. No one he'd ever been with before had been that perceptive of his body. No one had ever been so goddamn enjoyable to be with. But you were like this every damn time with him.

You sucked him further into your mouth, eager to take more of him already. Matt practically growled in response–you were unexpectedly enthusiastic this afternoon. His hand darted out, firmly gripping a fistful of your hair at the back of your head. His own head dropped back over his shoulders at the feel of your resulting moan in response to his grip, half of his cock in your mouth vibrating with the noise.

The sensation felt so fucking good that his hips involuntarily snapped a fraction forward, sending himself just a bit further into your mouth. He'd quickly tried to restrain himself, but he'd certainly caught the resulting hum of pleasure from you again immediately afterwards. He whined at the feel of it, a coiling pleasure building at the base of his spine. He had begun to tremble from the effort of holding himself back, refraining from accidentally fucking into your mouth again, not wanting to hurt you or push your boundaries.

A moment later he felt you gradually slip your mouth off of him, your hand soon taking over as his head rolled forward again. He was close to apologizing, wondering if he'd done something wrong, but the languid strokes of your hand up and down the shaft of him had his words slow to form. You’d spoken before he had a chance to, and what you said next had Matt already wanting to cum.

"You don't need to hold back, baby," you told him.

Your thumb ran over the head of him, the pad of it swiping over a particularly sensitive spot. Matt moaned out, a shudder running through his body. Fuck, were you really offering him that ?

"Are–are you sure?" Matt panted out. "We don't have to."

"Use me, Matt," you urged, thumb circling the tip of his cock again and causing Matt’s hips to squirm in the chair. "I want to try that with you."

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathed out, his other hand lightly grasping your chin, his thumb brushing over your dampened lips. “You’re really sure?”

Your lips wrapped firmly around his thumb, drawing it into your mouth as a hum of affirmation left you. Matt bit down hard on his own bottom lip when your tongue gently began to lap at the pad of his finger. How were you so good at this? At turning him on like this?

Your lips eventually released his finger, your mouth angling downwards to lightly place a kiss to the palm of his hand. And then you’d quickly maneuvered out of his grasp before sucking his cock hungrily back into your mouth. A flurry of curses flew out Matt in return, his hand gripping your hair tighter as you took him a little deeper. His abdominals tightened in pleasure at the feel of your warm mouth around him.

Carefully testing his boundaries, his hips ever so slightly rolled forwards up off the chair, his cock sinking deeper into your mouth. Your hands eagerly grasped onto his hips, an excited noise coming from your full mouth.

" Ahh –fuck–sweetheart," Matt hissed out, his words broken. "You really want me to–to fuck your mouth?"

You once again hummed out an affirmative noise along Matt's cock, the feel of it causing him to moan out in pleasure. Not needing any further encouragement, Matt’s other hand lowered to lightly grip you by the throat. The scent of you grew thicker in the air as Matt heard the way your thighs had pressed together, his ears picking up on the slight rocking of your hips as you searched for friction. That only turned him on more–because you were getting turned on by this.

When his hips rolled forward again, he could feel your throat relaxing as you took him deeper. A low, throaty groan fell out of Matt as his head fell completely over the back of the chair, his senses engulfed by you. Your nails further dug into his bare hips, encouraging him to fuck your eager mouth.

And Matt was all too happy to oblige as he fucked up into your mouth yet again, a hiss of pleasure sneaking past his gritted teeth.

Sunday

"Okay, so I've finally finished making a list and was about to run to the store for groceries for the week," you told Matt, making your way out of the bedroom as you skimmed over the list on your phone again. "Was there anything else you needed?"

Glancing up as you came to a stop just behind the leather couch, you saw Matt straighten back up from beside the dishwasher, the muscles of his upper torso flexing and pulling visibly as he moved. You hadn't expected him to still be shirtless after his shower, but he was wearing nothing but his sweatpants that were currently hanging low on his hips. His hair was still damp and clinging to his forehead, too.

Blinking hard, you tried to ignore the pleasant shock at finding Matt shirtless, damp, and doing the dishes. Though admittedly the sight had raised your body temperature just a bit, and judging by the cocky smile that slipped onto Matt’s face before he turned and headed over to the shelf to put away the plates in his hands, he’d noticed. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus back on your task of working on the grocery list for the week.

“Is there uh, anything else you would like me to pick up?” you asked.

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I would like,” Matt teased, turning back around to face you.

You swallowed hard, your eyes once again drawn up towards him from the phone you held in your hand. He was grinning back at you with a devious look in his eyes. Your mouth felt like it was going dry at the sight of him just standing there half-dressed in the kitchen. Internally you chastised yourself, because watching Matt put away a load of clean dishes with his shirt off and his hair damp shouldn’t have had this much of an effect on you, but it fucking did. And his usual teasing wasn’t helping at all.

“You–you, uh…” you began, but you quickly trailed off.

It was hard trying to focus on your words when your eyes were glued to his defined and toned chest as he made his way back to the dishwasher. Your eyes followed his movements as he bent over, intentionally turning so his ass was pointed straight at you. You watched as the fabric of his sweatpants pulled taut over it as he closed the dishwasher. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus again as he slowly rose back to his full height.

“I mean was there, uh something? You–you wanted?” you asked slightly breathless.

He chuckled, turning back towards you and leaning his arms over the kitchen countertop as his attention fixed on you. His head was tilted just a bit to the side, an amused smirk on his beautiful mouth.

“Trail mix, remember?” he replied, all faux innocence. “You know I love when you make it, sweetheart.”

“Right,” you said a little nervously, nodding as you glanced back down at your phone. “I’ll uh, I’ll add it to the list.”

Your fingers flew across the keypad on your phone as you added each ingredient of the trail mix Matt loved so much to the list. Though your fingers slowed their typing when you saw Matt push off of the countertop out of your peripheral. He was gradually making his way out of the kitchen and over towards you, your heart beating a little harder with each step he neared. Apparently it didn’t matter that you’d both just had sex yesterday afternoon after your nap because you found yourself quickly distracted from your typing because of his presence.

Matt stopped just in front of you, that cocky smile still on his face. He reached out and grabbed your phone, slowly sliding it out of your grip. You stood there dumbfounded, watching as he turned and effortlessly tossed your phone onto the kitchen table just to the side of him. When he turned back around, he placed one hand on either side of the leather couch, boxing you in between his arms.

“Something on your mind besides the grocery list, sweetheart?” he asked.

“What? No, I was just focused on getting the–the list together,” you replied quickly.

Matt shook his head, leaning forward towards your ear and whispering, “ Lie .”

You licked your lips, your eyes focused on his own lips with him suddenly standing so close to you. The hot breath from his mouth kept washing over yours as he continued to gaze down at you with that darkened, hungry stare of his.

“Well, I mean I was trying to focus on the list,” you conceded awkwardly, “but then you’re–you’re over in the kitchen making dishes somehow look weirdly sexy.” With a hard swallow you added, “And honestly that’s not fair, Matt. Putting away clean plates shouldn’t look so good.”

Matt’s bottom lip slipped between his teeth as he grinned back at you in amusement. The sight alone of him shirtless like that, so close to you while he caged you between those powerful arms of his, had you wanting to lunge at him. To crush your mouth to his and beg him to fuck you. You did your best to refrain though.

“I could tell you were enjoying yourself,” he teased. “But it seems now you might need a little–” he paused, leaning over to whisper in your ear again, “– help before you go to the store.”

Eyes widening back at him, you were about to open your mouth and respond, but then he abruptly turned his face towards yours and dove forward, pressing his lips to yours. Taken by surprise, it took you a moment to react. But when his teeth bit gently down onto your lower lip and tugged, your hands flew up and grabbed onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into his bare skin.

Matt grunted in response before he released your lip, his hands landing on your hips and gripping them firmly. Effortlessly he spun you around, your back now facing him as your own hands flew out, grasping onto the back of the couch to balance yourself at the unexpected movement. Looking at Matt over your shoulder, you spotted that lustful look spread across his face.

“What’re you doing, Matty?” you asked curiously.

He pressed himself to the back of you and you immediately felt his half-hard cock against your ass. Your cunt clenched tight around nothing instantly and his fingers dug into your hips over your shirt as if he knew.

“Bend over, sweetheart,” Matt ordered. “Bend over the couch, for me.”

Inhaling a shaky breath, your attention returned to the couch before you. Slowly you leaned over it, the backrest pressing against your abdomen. You rested your hands on a cushion, trying to hold yourself up. Seconds later you felt Matt’s arms wrap around your waist, his fingers deftly undoing the button of your jeans before lowering your zipper. Soon after, he was tugging your pants and underwear down your thighs and then slipping them entirely off of you. Goosebumps rose along your now bare lower half just before you felt Matt’s rough, warm hands lovingly smoothing their way along the backs of your thighs.

“You can’t get enough of me, can you?” Matt asked from just behind you.

One of his hands made their way between your thighs, lightly teasing a finger between your dampening folds. Your hips twitched in response, your body instinctively asking him for more. Matt hummed out a pleased noise.

“I”ll never have enough of you,” you whispered back.

“That’s my girl,” Matt praised quietly.

The pad of his index finger began rubbing gently against your clit, the sensation immediately causing your eyes to snap shut. You were vaguely aware of his other hand leaving your thigh, your focus mainly on what his fingers were doing to you. But soon you felt the telltale weight of Matt’s cock landing against your ass and you gasped in delighted surprise.

“Should I fuck you before you go to the store, sweetheart?” Matt asked. “Would you like that? For me to fill you with my cum before you pick up the groceries for our place?”

You whined in response, desperately trying to press yourself back into him the best you could in this position. Because yes, you absolutely wanted that. To feel the pleasant ache of your cunt after he’d fucked you so thoroughly while you wandered the produce aisle. Having the memory of his hands and his mouth on you like a brand against your skin as you filled the cart with the groceries you’d both be sharing this week. Something about that had you dying to feel him inside of you, filling you so well like he always did.

“Yes, Matty, please,” you whimpered.

Both of his hands grasped onto your thighs, sliding you a little more forward over the couch. You instantly sunk down onto your forearms along the couch cushion before you, your head turning over your shoulder to where he was standing behind you. From what you could see of Matt, he’d pushed his sweatpants and boxers partway down his thighs. Your eyes lingered on his face and the way his brows were pinched together, his nostrils flaring as he swiped his cock back and forth between the slick that had very quickly accumulated between your folds. He looked absolutely pleased as he did, his tongue darting out for a moment to dampen his lips.

Soon you felt him lining himself up with your entrance, and when just the tip of him gradually entered you, you gasped out. Head falling forward, it dropped between your shoulders as you felt Matt continue to slowly ease himself inside of you until he was fully sheathed, entirely filling you up. With your hips a bit higher above you, raised by the backrest of the leather couch that you were draped over, you wrapped your legs around Matt’s waist to help balance yourself.

Still fully sheathed inside of you, Matt just held himself there. He didn’t make any attempt to fuck you at all. It was a moment before you became desperate for more, your hips squirming needily as you made a noise of frustration. Matt’s right hand continued to grip your right thigh as his left hand began gliding back and forth along your lower back. The feel of it sent a shudder through you.

“You want more, sweetheart?” he asked.

“ Yes ,” you begged.

“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, clearly pleased at how badly you already needed him. “Then you’re going to have to fuck yourself on my cock, sweet girl.”

You perked up at his words, your head slightly raising at what he’d just said. A rumbling chuckle fell out of him behind you at your reaction.

“Go on, sweetie,” he urged huskily. “Use me. Fair is fair, right?”

For a moment you were stunned, continuing to lay immobile in the position you were in over the back of the couch. But you quickly found yourself becoming impatient, wanting more than just the fullness of him inside of you.

Slowly you began to move your hips, arching your back just enough until you felt Matt's cock almost slipping out. You rolled your hips roughly back into him, taking him fully inside of you in one swift, delicious movement. A soft cry of pleasure flew out of you at the feel as you did it again, quickly increasing your pace as your breath came in sharper. You heard Matt moan behind you, both of his hands firmly gripping your thighs.

"That's it," he encouraged, his own breaths growing ragged. "Take what you need, sweet girl. I'm all yours."

Monday

Matt was exhausted as he stood in the elevator waiting for it to slowly ascend to the top floor of his apartment building. He absently twirled his cane between both hands, his posture reflecting just how tired he was as his shoulders slumped forward a bit. His focus was admittedly not even on the space around him, but on you up in the apartment as he waited.

He’d told you that he’d be home late this evening because he, Foggy, and Karen had been working on a case. The three of them had been close to finally finding the break they needed and none of them had wanted to stop until they’d found it. Truthfully he’d expected it to take longer than it had, so Matt had given you a later time to expect him home and begged you not to wait for him for dinner. But thankfully they’d finished a little bit ago and Matt hadn’t wanted to linger around the office afterwards. Figuring he’d surprise you at home a little earlier than intended, he hadn’t given you a call to let you know he was on his way back when he’d left.

Which was why he was delighted to hear you were up in the apartment making dinner. And by the sounds of what he could hear–the pop music you were currently blaring on your phone in conjunction with your slightly elevated heart rate–you must have been dancing while you were cooking. Probably because you’d thought he wasn’t around to ‘see’ you doing it.

He grinned at that thought, wondering how adorably embarrassed you might become when he came through the front door and surprised you. He even had already thought of a way to tease you, hoping to hear your heart beat erratically in your chest and to feel the heat of your cheeks as you flushed. He would never stop loving the way your body reacted to him.

And over the past few days, Matt had absolutely loved having you at what had now become both of yours’ place, watching as you slowly began to settle in and grow comfortable in the space. Besides the fact that it seemed like your sex lives had become somehow even more active than before, he’d loved the little moments with you. Making dinner together over the weekend before cleaning up the dishes, playfully teasing each other and sharing lingering touches while you did. He loved coming back from his nights out as Daredevil to you curled up on the sofa wrapped in his blanket waiting for him. Both times when he had come back he’d hurried over to you, excitedly kissing you before he quickly stripped out of the suit so he could cuddle up with you for a few minutes before he carried you off to bed.

And now he was coming home to you after a stressful day at work, excited that you were already here–and making dinner for the both of you. It thrilled Matt to know that you didn’t have to rush back to your apartment for anything ever again. Because you were always here with him. At home. And that thought had his own heart beating a little harder.

When the elevator doors opened, Matt didn’t hesitate to make his exit. His cane tapping along the floor, he made the familiar trek down the hallway back towards his apartment, a wide grin on his face as he focused on you inside. It smelled like you were making spaghetti and Matt’s stomach growled; he hadn’t really ate much for lunch earlier today, having been too busy with the case. He certainly was grateful you were making dinner.

Reaching the apartment door, he opened it, not surprised to find it unlocked despite how many times he’d told you to lock it when he wasn’t home. The grin briefly faltered on his face–he’d have to remind you about that again . But as he pushed the door open, he was immediately hit with the overpowering smell of your pheromones. It was so thick in the air that Matt had paused, frozen entirely on the spot just in the hallway.

Because of course with your elevated heart rate in a hot kitchen you’d be sweating just a bit, which in turn would increase your pheromones. It made sense. You were cooking pasta sauce on the stove, a pot of water boiling beside it, and it felt like you had the oven on. And you were, in fact, dancing in the kitchen. Which initially he’d found sweet and endearing, but with the scent of your pheromones heavy in the air and the sexual lyrics coming out of your phone, the way your hips were shaking in the kitchen right now had suddenly become something else to Matt.

Stepping into the apartment, he closed the door behind himself and made sure to lock it. He hung his cane up on the hook nearby first, his heart pounding harder in his chest as he heard the shift in the air around you in the kitchen. God, the way you were moving your hips with your lip caught between your teeth was drawing forth a reaction from himself that he had not anticipated.

Quickly slipping out of his shoes, he stuffed them under the nearby bench before he briskly made his way down the entryway hall. Considering you weren’t expecting him home yet, your music was fairly loud, and you were currently focused on the stove as you continued to dance, you hadn’t noticed him come in. Matt wasn’t surprised by that.

And he didn’t want to alert you to his presence quite yet either. He wanted to continue to enjoy the seductive way you were moving without you noticing him for just a bit longer. He figured this wasn't something he would get to witness often.

Slowly he slipped the strap of his briefcase over his head before tossing it onto the sofa, his focus never wavering from you. He made his way over to the kitchen, pausing just in the entrance of it. Closing his eyes, Matt stood there and allowed himself to feel the movements you were making through the currents of air around him. Each shake of your hips or slide of your hands through your hair slightly shifted the air around him and it was somehow quickly making him hard. The delicious and sweet scent of your pheromones filling his nose only further fueled his own increasing need, his dress pants gradually becoming uncomfortable.

Goddammit, you were sexy.

He’d already fucked you this morning in the shower and twice yesterday–once before you left for the grocery store and then another time before you’d both gone to sleep after he’d returned home from his night out as Daredevil. Yet for some goddamn reason it felt like he was in need of you again. Longing for you. Hungry for you.

Matt’s teeth ground together, no longer able to resist the call of your body. Crossing the distance between the pair of you, he came up behind you and carefully wrapped his arms around your waist. He felt you startle in his hold, your pulse jumping in brief shock as your head abruptly turned. You’d stopped dancing, though you’d calmed a bit when you’d realized it was him.

“Shit, Matt,” you breathed out, a hand landing over your thundering heart. “You really do need to start wearing a bell. You scared me half to death. Wasn’t expecting you back for another hour.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. “I couldn’t resist.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confusion in your tone.

Matt’s arms tightened around your waist, his mouth lingering beside your ear. He inhaled deeply, his eyes rolling back as he picked up on the faintest hint of your arousal peaking through the smell of your pheromones.

You’d often joked that his cocky teasing and his insatiable sexual appetite would be the death of you. But right now, it felt like you were going to be the death of him .

“Don’t stop,” he whispered into your ear.

He felt the exact moment you realized what he meant. Embarrassment did in fact flood your body, heating your cheeks as you tried to pull away from him. Matt only tightened his hold around you.

“ Matt !” you shrieked. “You were watching me?”

It was the response he’d been intending to pull from you when he was in the elevator. He loved your usual adorable shriek of embarrassment which he’d generally follow up with a cocky, smartass teasing remark. And he’d had one ready, too, until he’d opened the apartment door and been bombarded by your pheromones. Now all he wanted was for you to keep rhythmically moving your hips–preferably against his face with no fabric blocking you from his mouth.

“Your pheromones are everywhere,” he told you. “Wasn’t expecting that. Just wanted to come home early and surprise you.”

One of his hands slid down your front, cupping you over your cotton shorts. He felt the slight jolt from your body at the sudden contact, but he could feel your blood rushing southwards towards his hand. You were enjoying him touching you like this.

“Don’t stop,” he repeated.

"Matt, I'm not–"

You stopped mid-sentence when his mouth landed on the space between your neck and your shoulder. He purred in satisfaction at the taste of you mixed with the faint taste of the pasta sauce you'd been cooking. His hand began gradually rubbing you over your shorts, his other one trying to encourage the sway of your hips against him.

"Matt, the food," you protested weakly.

He released your hip long enough to turn both burners off on the stove. He broke away from your neck just long enough to whisper, "Dinner can wait."

It was a moment before he felt you finally give in. Gradually your hips began to move, almost timidly at first, and Matt pressed himself into you from behind with a low, rumbling growl of satisfaction. He began to lightly nip at the skin of your neck, his own hips moving in tandem with the sensual sway of yours. He was quickly losing all ability to control himself though, his hand still rubbing at you over your shorts as he continued to grind himself against your ass.

"I want to taste you," he said.

" Matt ," you whispered, his name a mix of a moan and a reprimand.

His hand stopped its movement against you over your shorts, sliding its way up towards your other hip. He grinned in smug satisfaction against your neck when he caught the incredibly faint whimper that vibrated in your throat, the noise not quite leaving your mouth in response to the absence of his touch. You clearly wanted this, too.

His hands abruptly spun you around until he had you facing himself. Still grasping tight to your hips, he continued to encourage the sensual sway of them against himself as he began to walk you backwards through the kitchen and away from the hot stove. As he moved, Matt's mouth crashed down onto yours in a frenzied kiss–you tasted like coffee and strawberries for some reason and it only had him frantically trying to taste more.

Matt didn't stop walking you backwards until he'd accidentally backed you right into the fridge. Your mouth broke away from his quickly, expelling a soft gasp of surprise at the impact.

He felt your hands slide their way up his chest, clutching eagerly at his shoulders and rumpling his dress shirt between your fingers. Your breath was shallow and sharp, your heart loudly thrumming in your chest. Matt could feel the increase of your body temperature, the smell of your arousal clouding his mind as he heard your head fall back against the fridge. Your body clearly wanted a release, which countered what you said next.

"Matt, I don't think I can take another round of sex," you whispered. "I'm still sore from this morning. And literally all of the other times the past few days."

He leaned in, placing a soft kiss to your lips. When he broke away, Matt gradually kneeled down to the floor before you, his hands caressing the bare bit of your thighs that your shorts didn’t cover. He felt the prickle of goosebumps rise along your skin under his hands. He could also hear the pounding of your pulse in the artery along your inner thigh, the scent of your arousal strong beside his nose.

He wanted you so damn bad right now. But he would never make you do anything.

Exhaling a sharp breath, he rested his forehead against your left thigh. "We don't have to do that," he replied quietly. "I just want to taste you. And I can be gentle, sweetheart." He leant forward, placing a kiss to your thigh and feeling the muscle twitch beneath his lips. "But you can say no. You can always say no."

Your hand was suddenly running through his hair, slow and tender. His eyelids lowered, lips parting as he let the taste of you in the air coat his tongue. A rumbling groan rolled its way up from his chest, the sound mingling with the music from your phone in the kitchen as your other hand began massaging his scalp, too. The feel of your hands on him wasn't helping the throbbing of his cock in his dress pants.

“If you have me, then I get to have you,” he heard you breathe out above him.

“ Fuck, sweetheart, ” Matt moaned.

His mouth opened, teeth lightly nipping at your thigh as his eyes clenched shut. Matt didn’t know how he’d gone so long without having you in his life. Foggy wasn’t wrong when he’d joked the other week saying that you had tamed the Devil–because like hell if he wouldn’t fall on his knees and worship you every chance he got.

Releasing your thigh from his teeth, his hands made their way up towards the top of your shorts. Curling his fingers into the waistbands of both articles of clothing, he yanked down the shorts and your underwear in one swift movement, grinning when he heard your surprised gasp.

“Only if I get to have you first,” Matt purred out.

He tossed your clothes somewhere behind himself in the kitchen before gliding a hand up your thigh and towards your soaked folds. Humming in satisfaction, he ran a couple of fingers between them, coating them with your slick. You were so incredibly wet for him already.

He slid a finger up towards your clit, catching the slight sigh that left your lips when the pad of his index finger gently grazed it. For a moment his eyes closed, reveling in the quiet, content noises you and your body made as he alternated his focus between lightly stimulating that sensitive bundle of nerves and teasing your soaked entrance, loving the way your back arched off of the fridge each time. One of your hands had fallen down to grip his shoulder, the other still lightly massaging his scalp as he continued to pleasure you–and like hell if it wasn’t only further stimulating him in return.

Eventually teasing you got to be far too much for Matt. With his left hand still massaging your right thigh, his other hand left your clit and instead reached down, gripping onto your calf. Abruptly he lifted it from the ground, grinning up at you when your hand roughly gripped his shoulder to balance yourself, a surprised yelp falling out of you. He raised your leg as high as he heard your body would comfortably let him, pinning it against the cold metal of the fridge door behind you. He heard the sound of your mouth opening, probably about to protest, but he immediately dove forward, swiping the flat of his tongue up the length of you. Instead of words, you released an indistinguishable noise of pleasure that had the smug grin returning to his lips.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” you hummed back, head nodding quickly.

He heard the way your head fell back against the fridge with a soft thud after. Matt slid his tongue over you again, his eyes falling shut as he savored the taste of your slick on his tongue. Letting it linger in his mouth for a moment, he reveled in the heady, delicious taste of you before he finally swallowed it down with a throaty groan that had your fingers curling tighter in his hair.

“I’m going to have my fill of you,” Matt breathed out, his face turning up towards where you were above him as he sent you a devilish smile. “And I want you to ride my face as hard as you want. You hear me?”

He heard the stutter of your heart in response to his demand before you cursed under your breath.

“Fuck, Matt,” you whined.

“Mmm,” he hummed, shaking his head as he lowered his face back towards your cunt before him. “Thought we couldn’t do that tonight?”

He chuckled as he heard you call him a smartass, but you didn’t remotely complain when he dove forward again, this time lapping at your entrance before slipping his tongue inside of you. All the while he held your right leg up against the refrigerator door in a firm grip, grinning when he felt it beginning to tremble as you began rhythmically grinding your cunt against his face. He intentionally pressed his nose against your clit, his mouth spurred on by the loud moans flying out of you and merging with the music still playing on your phone.

He was definitely going to have his fill of you tonight.

Tuesday

Needing to catch up on laundry after you'd come home from work, you'd decided to skip making dinner tonight, figuring you and Matt could order something instead. You'd sent him a text earlier letting him know your plan before throwing a load of clothes into the washer. Matt had shown up from work shortly after, just when you'd managed to gather everything out of the dryer that neither of you had had the energy to deal with the past couple of days.

Now the pair of you were on opposite sides of the bed from each other, both focused on sorting out the last bit of laundry from the laundry basket on the mattress between the pair of you. You reached your hand in, pulling out another pair of your socks from the basket before you sorted them together along the bed.

“I believe these are yours,” Matt’s playful tone cut through the silence.

You glanced up from your pile of socks at his voice, catching him holding a pair of your black, silk panties in his hands. He had a mischievous look on his face as he held them up, his fingers rubbing the fabric back and forth between them. They were definitely not your everyday underwear. Rolling your eyes at Matt, you reached a hand out to take them from him, but he immediately drew his hand back from your reach, a wide grin forming on his lips.

“On second thought, I don’t know if I’m quite done with these yet,” he teased.

“Matt, those are clean and I’d like them to stay that way for right now,” you said.

“Does that mean I can dirty up the ones you’re wearing now, then?” he asked, his head tilting to the side as his eyebrows rose up onto his forehead.

You gaped back at him, shock written across your face. “What?” you asked.

He held out the silk panties to you and you snatched them from his hand before he could pull them out of your reach again. Matt chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused that he’d riled you up a little. You watched as he reached into the almost empty laundry basket, pulling out another pair of his black boxers.

“If those are clean and I can’t dirty them up,” he began, “then it stands to reason that I can dirty up the underwear you’ve got on now.”

You reached into the basket, pulling out the last two pieces of clothing as you made a face. “Do I want to know what you mean by that?” you asked him. “Because I’m guessing you mean something sexual by that.”

“I definitely mean something sexual by that,” he answered you.

With a sigh you glanced up at Matt, raising a single brow at him. He picked up his neatly folded pile of black boxers, shooting you a cheeky smile from the otherside of the bed.

“ How do you still want to have sex?” you asked him in astonishment. “Do you have a secret stash of performance pills around here somewhere?”

A bark of laughter flew out of Matt as he turned, making his way over to the dresser. You picked up some of your own neatly folded laundry, making your way to the dresser beside him to put them away.

“Oh sweetheart,” Matt purred, leaning over towards you when you were standing next to him, “I think we both know I don’t need any help in the bedroom.”

You felt your cheeks heat as you slid your clothes into the drawer before making your way back to the bed. Picking up the stack of your bras, you teased back, “Maybe you need help getting out of the bedroom.”

Matt laughed again, passing you on your way to the dresser as he made his way back to the bed to grab his stack of clean socks.

“Pretty sure we’ve gotten out of the bedroom often in the past few days,” he joked back.

“Oh my God, Matt,” you said with a grin, rolling your eyes again as you put away your bras. “That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he returned to the dresser. He slipped his socks into the open drawer beside you, an amused smile on his lips. Closing the drawer you had open, you turned and rested your hip against the dresser, eyeing him curiously.

“What’s with all the sex though?” you asked him.

Matt closed his drawer, turning and copying your body language as he leaned against the dresser, too. One of his dark brows rose up onto his forehead as he gazed back at you, his eyes landing on your chin. There was a cocky expression on his face that was only growing the longer he stared at you.

“You tell me,” he said. “I seem to recall someone getting turned on by me just innocently doing dishes the other day.”

“Okay, well you’re apparently turning into a horn dog over laundry ,” you shot back.

“Well in all fairness,” Matt began, “your scent has officially blended with mine here. Probably not something I imagine you can pick up on, but I can. And I like it.”

He reached a hand out, grabbing onto your hip. You stiffened when his thumb slipped under your shirt, brushing back and forth along your skin.

“I like it a lot," he said huskily.

Drawing in a deep breath, you tried to focus the topic on something besides sex for the evening. Though the growing hunger in Matt’s eyes was making that difficult.

"We should probably order dinner," you told him, clearing your throat. "Is there something you want?"

"You," he purred, a devilish smirk on his lips.

His whole hand slipped under your shirt next, the warmth of it hard to ignore as his palm slid up along your ribcage. Matt continued to stand there, leaning against the dresser and smirking back at you. He knew damn well what he was doing to you and he was doing it on purpose. It wasn't long before you began to feel that all too familiar urge to wipe the smirk off of his face growing within you.

A slow, sinful smile gradually drew itself across your lips as you stared back at him. You watched the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously at you in return, his head tilting to the side. The smirk on his face faltered a little.

"You want me, Matt?" you asked innocently.

Your hand landed on his forearm, your fingers lightly running along the dark hairs there. His hand gripped your ribcage under your shirt instantly in response.

"Yes," he answered carefully. "But clearly you have something in mind."

"Well," you began slowly, "if you want me, then I think maybe tonight you should have to follow my rules, Matthew." You grabbed onto his thick forearm and tugged it out from underneath your shirt. "And the first rule is no touching me."

His lips parted in surprise as he stared back at you in stunned silence. You lowered Matt's hand to his side, the sly smile still on your mouth at how fast that smirk had just vanished from his.

“Sound like a game you want to play, Matty?” you questioned him.

"What's the second rule?" he asked huskily.

A thrill shot through you. You'd never done this with Matt before, but the thought of having power over him in a completely new way had you feeling smug for once. Because he was always teasing you, always riling you up. Hell, living with him was like constantly being teased by him, especially with the way this first week had gone so far. Seeing him everywhere you looked–seeing your lives blended together–had you constantly wanting him this week.

Enjoying the way he was quietly waiting on you to answer, your hands reached out and grabbed onto the knot of his tie, yanking him towards you. Your smile grew wider when he willingly stumbled forward a step.

"The second rule is that you only cum when I say you can," you told him, undoing the knot of his tie with your fingers. "Since you do that to me so often, I think it's about time I do it back to you."

Slowly you slipped his tie out from underneath his shirt collar, enjoying the way you saw his throat bob when he roughly swallowed at your words. Eyes glancing down, you saw the way his hands had curled into fists at his sides. Clearly you were having an effect on him already and that went straight to your cunt.

"What do you say, Matty?" you asked coyly, hands beginning to unbutton his shirt. "You still want me?"

"Yes," he answered immediately.

Another little thrill shot through you at how fast he'd answered. You might enjoy this more than you'd initially thought.

"Get undressed and get on the bed then," you ordered him.

Your hands grabbed onto the hem of your shirt as Matt’s hands replaced yours on his buttons. His fingers deftly flew through each one, undoing them with such speed that you found yourself impressed. You were barely sliding your cotton shorts down your legs when you saw Matt making his way back to the bed, tossing the laundry basket haphazardly onto the floor and out of the way before he climbed up onto it.

Eyes following his movements, you watched as he sunk down onto his knees. His gaze was very intensely on you, his eyes focused along your chest as if he was tuned into your heartbeat. Chewing your lip, your eyes dropped down to his hardening cock that was expectantly waiting for you. Matt’s voice suddenly popped into your mind and you remembered all of those times that he’d taken control in the bedroom with you–ordering you around–and an idea quickly came to you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, your head canted to the side. “Touch yourself for me, Matty,” you ordered.

You grinned when you saw his eyebrows shoot up onto his forehead in surprise yet again, the corners of his own lips curling upwards at your boldness. Tonight you were certainly being far more brazen with him than you ever had been before. But watching as he grabbed his cock in his hand, beginning to stroke himself while he still focused on you, was definitely worth stepping out of your comfort zone for. Because it was certainly a mental image you were going to store away for later.

Except, he looked far too cocky right now on the bed. That smirk was back on his lips and you were determined to knock it off of him tonight. Eyes narrowing back at him, you uncrossed your arms, one hand slowly sliding its way down your stomach and towards your clit. A burst of pleasure raced through you the moment you began circling the sensitive bud, a soft moan leaving you. Matt’s smirk slowly faded from his mouth as his hand stuttered to a halt along his cock.

“I didn’t say stop, Matty,” you reminded him.

He audibly sucked in a sharp breath, his hand gradually continuing its movement. Biting your lip, you slid two fingers further downward, dipping them into yourself with a wet sound that you knew was loud enough for his ears to catch by the way his eyes clamped shut.

“You smell so good ,” he whispered.

"Do I?" you breathed out, slowly sliding your fingers in and out of yourself. “Someone want a taste?” you asked coyly, sliding your fingers back out.

“Yes– fuck . Please, yes,” he begged, his chest beginning to heave.

Crossing your way towards the bed, you slowly held out your hand towards him. Matt’s lips parted expectantly, his head turning up towards you. Instead you grabbed him by the chin with your fingers, hearing the slight whine he emitted just before you leaned in to kiss him.

You assumed the scent of your arousal along his chin–with you denying him the taste of it on his tongue–had driven him further into a frenzy. He began fiercely kissing you, his lips ravenously connecting to yours over and over as he practically growled against your mouth. His teeth were biting and pulling against your bottom lip, his hand working himself even faster. The sight of his urgent desire for you drew out a low moan from within your own chest.

Releasing his chin, you straightened beside the bed. With another rumbling growl, Matt’s free hand released the tight grip he’d had on the silk sheets and flew out towards your hip, but you immediately shifted to the side just as he’d remembered the rule you’d given him. His hand hung there in the air just inches from your waist, a frustrated noise coming from Matt.

“You know, for someone who likes to tease excessively, you sure can’t handle much of it in return,” you pointed out.

Matt grunted in response, his hand halting its movements on his cock. You could already see the glisten of pre-cum on his fingers, but you refrained from saying anything about him not following directions because you caught the abrupt shift in his demeanor to something…else.

“Because I’m aware of vastly more going on with your body than you are of mine,” he replied through clenched teeth. “Takes far more control than you think for me to not touch you right now. You know I love when you let loose with me, sweetheart. And this is…the most comfortable you’ve ever been with me. But it’s also so–” he rumbled a noise in his chest that sounded like the Devil growling now, “– tempting not to listen to you.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words and his tone of voice. One of these days you would be tempted yourself to see what happened if you pushed the Devil just far enough. But tonight was not the night for that.

“I’ll show you some mercy tonight,” you conceded. “But the rules still stand: you still can’t touch me and you still can’t cum until I give you permission. Think you can handle that much, Devil?”

Matt’s eyes narrowed back at you, that dark look on his face still present. After a moment, he gave you a single nod.

“That’s my good Devil. Now lay down,” you ordered.

Gradually Matt drew his legs out from underneath himself, slowly lowering onto his back on the bed as he continued to focus on you with that darkened expression. You delighted in watching his naked form as he moved, enjoying the movement of his muscles along his arms and abdomen visibly shifting.

Matthew Murdock was unbelievably beautiful– especially naked and wound up.

“You’re enjoying this,” he rumbled out.

You climbed up onto the bed, throwing a leg over his hips so you were straddling him. Hands landing on his chest, you lightly scratched your nails upwards towards his shoulders and then gradually back down towards his hips. You saw the goosebumps raise along his skin as you did, his head rolling back just a bit along the pillow in pleasure as he moaned out.

“So are you,” you pointed out.

Reaching a hand down, you grabbed onto the base of Matt’s cock, grinning when you heard him groan at the touch. Carefully you lined him up with your entrance before very deliberately sinking down onto him, your eyes closing as your cunt stretched around his girth. Matt loosed a curse into the bedroom, your eyes opening in time to catch him roughly fisting the sheets in both of his large hands.

Leaning forward, your hands landed on his broad shoulders as your face hovered above his. His eyelids fluttered open, his eyes hooded with lust as they landed along your cheek.

“Be a good Devil for me now,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his lips lightly. “And I won’t make you wait too long to cum.”

“ Fucking hell ,” he growled. “Sweetheart, you’re going to regret– ahhh, fuck !”

Grinning at how he’d broken off mid-sentence when your hips slowly rocked against him, your nails bit into his shoulders. Setting a slow, delicious pace, you began to fuck Matt, a pleased hum leaving you at the feel of him inside of you. Matt's breath quickly came in short pants, a series of whimpers falling out of his lips.

“So hard not to–to touch you,” he breathed out.

“You’re doing so good for me, Matty,” you praised.

Reaching a hand up, you stroked his cheek, enjoying the rasp of his beard against your fingers. Matt immediately nuzzled into your palm, pressing his cheek further into it as his brows pinched together. You continued rhythmically riding his cock at your leisurely pace, thumb stroking the length of his cheekbone.

“You’re so beautiful, Matt,” you murmured.

A slow, euphoric smile slipped across his lips, his eyes opening as he focused around your face. “Getting a little–little sentimental on me right now, sweetie?” he panted out with an amused huff. “Already losing your edge?”

You shook your head, the grin still on your mouth. "Not a chance, Matthew," you assured him. "I still want to hear you beg."

Hips picking up their pace, you watched as his eyelids closed again. Your hand returned to his shoulder as you leaned in close to his ear, noticing the way he shuddered when your breath tickled his skin.

"Because I know how much you fall apart for praise," you whispered into his ear.

Beneath you, Matt's back arched off of the bed, his cock burying itself further into you as he did. With a soft gasp, your nails dug even further into his shoulders. Encouraged by your grip, Matt’s own hips began thrusting upwards into you, meeting your hips roughly and matching your pace.

"Mmm, that's my good Devil," you whispered into his ear. "But you're not cumming yet. I'm not quite done with you."

Matt loosed a loud groan through the bedroom at your words, his head once again rolling back along the pillow. His teeth ground together as he hissed out a sharp breath between them, his hips sharply fucking up into you so hard that your eyes briefly rolled back.

You were definitely going to enjoy riling up the Devil tonight.

Wednesday

A loud crack of thunder rolled through the city, the sound echoing off the tall buildings and managing to cut straight through what had been a peaceful, deep sleep. Matt gradually grew alert on the bed, taking a moment to orient himself with his senses as he lay there. From the lack of extra noise among the tenants in his building, the quieter noises coming up from the streets of Hell’s Kitchen below, and your deep, even breaths beside him, he realized it was either still quite late or very early.

Outside the apartment, the rain soon came down against the windows in a steady, almost soothing downpour. The sound was somewhat relaxing–something akin to white noise–making it easier for Matt to ignore many of the extra noises of the city outside his apartment. He closed his eyes again, trying to focus back on falling asleep. Occasionally the rain felt like it had a dampening effect when he was in his apartment, which often helped lull Matt into a deeper sleep at night. Thunder, on the other hand, often disrupted it–as did the loud rumbling crack of another thunderous boom that roared through Hell’s Kitchen.

Tuning into your body pressed to the front of him, Matt's tired mind tried to focus on the soft, rhythmic exhalations leaving you. Your heart was beating at a calm, level pace as you slept, the sound always a comfort to Matt. Readjusting his hold around your waist, he shifted along the back of you, drawing himself even closer to your warm, almost bare body. His head rested on the same pillow just behind yours, his mouth right above your shoulder.

As he relaxed further into the mattress, trying to get comfortable while he focused on you instead of the storm, his lips accidentally brushed along your shoulder. Matt inhaled deeply, the scent of your peach shampoo and your soft skin filling his nose. The faint taste of just you lingered on his mouth from where his lips had just grazed you and he found his tongue drowsily slipping out to taste you from them again. He moaned quietly, the noise blending in with the sound of the rain outside.

Leaning a bit forward, he placed a barely there kiss on the top of your shoulder. With his mouth lingering against your skin, Matt contentedly hummed out a faint pleased noise as something slowly stirred awake within himself. He never could seem to get over just how soft your skin was, or how intoxicating it was to taste. Whether it was the taste of your lips themselves, or the delicate skin of your neck, the soft swell of your breasts, the inviting expanse of your shoulders, or the delicious, addicting taste of your cunt, Matt could never get enough. He always was left wanting more of you.

His arm unconsciously tightened around your waist, his hips pressing forward into you. His bare cock twitched awake as he slotted himself between the roundness of your ass, the silk of your underwear not as satisfying to him as just feeling you against his own skin. A rumbling noise vibrated in his throat as another crack of thunder rang through the bedroom.

Matt placed another kiss on your shoulder, his tongue slipping out to taste even more of you as he did. Briefly the thought flickered in his mind that he should stop. You both had work in the morning and he didn’t want either of you to be tired. There was a part of him that didn't want to wake you just because the storm had woken him. But the moment the tip of his tongue swiped along your skin and he caught the taste of you on it, his eyes clamped shut even tighter and a strangled whine left him.

He needed you.

Matt leaned further forward, his nose tracing up the length of your neck, his parted lips grazing your bare skin at the same time. He could feel you stirring awake beside him, your skin dotting with goosebumps beneath his hands. Your breath immediately hitched in your throat, your heart beat no longer steady and even but a sharp staccato in his ears as you gradually awoke.

“Matt?” your sleep-riddled voice whispered out.

He almost purred at the sound of it. Your voice alone could do things to him, things he didn't quite understand himself. He nuzzled into your neck before placing an open-mouthed kiss along the skin there. He just needed more of you, especially after the frustrating night he'd had as the Devil earlier.

And then there it was–the faint scent of your arousal hitting his nose. A slow, satisfied smile crept its way along his lips. Without fail, he so easily always managed to turn you on. He would never tire of how your body reacted to him.

"Matty, what're you–"

He sucked a patch of skin just beneath your jaw into his mouth, your question dying on your lips as you audibly inhaled a sharp breath. He felt your ass shift against his rapidly hardening cock, a quiet sigh falling out between your lips next. He released the skin from his mouth, his nose rubbing along the line of your jaw. One of Matt's hands released your waist, slowly sliding its way up your stomach and continuing further upwards.

"The storm woke me," he quietly explained, his large hand palming the soft mound of your breast. "Tried to focus on you to fall back asleep, but–" he inhaled the scent of your arousal in the air deeply, salivating at the faint taste of it in his mouth, "–you were distracting."

He felt both of your hands latch onto his wrists, felt the sting of your nails biting into his skin. A hiss of pleasure flew from him and he ground his aching cock back into your ass even more firmly.

" Sweetheart ," he moaned, shifting so his mouth was beside your ear when he spoke next. "Your body is begging me," he whispered, enjoying the shudder that ran through you. "Can I have you? Please?"

"Baby," you whimpered, ass eagerly grinding back against him as you nodded along the pillow. "Yes, yes. Need you, Matty."

Without waiting for further encouragement, his fingers gently tugged at your nipple. You gasped in surprise, your nails further biting into his wrists. Further spurred on by the noises of pleasure coming from you, his other hand slid down from your waist, slipping past the waistband of your silk underwear. He immediately found his way between your folds, growling at how wet you already were when he touched you.

"Oh, sweetheart ," he breathed out, running his two fingers back and forth between your slick. God, you were soaked already. "You want me this badly?"

He felt your head shift over your shoulder towards him, a desperate noise barely escaping you. It sounded like a muffled whine stuck in your throat and it had Matt's cock throbbing with need.

"Yes, baby," you answered softly. "Always."

His teeth grit together at the term of endearment he usually only heard from you in moments like these. But the truth in your words had a sharp grunt barreling out of him as his two fingers made their way towards your clit. The moment he grazed it he felt your back arch against him, a little moan coming from you in response.

"That feel good, sweetie?” he asked.

His lips began trailing slow, sweet kisses along your neck, his two fingers gently circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. He felt another shudder shoot through your body, your breath catching yet again.

“Yes,” you whispered back.

He felt one of your hands release its hold on his wrist, reaching back behind yourself and towards him. You managed to grab his bare ass and another whimper fell out of you. He smiled against your neck, running his nose back and forth against you when he felt you practically clawing at it as he continued the ministrations of his fingers along your clit. You really had a thing for his ass.

“ More ,” you begged.

His fingers slid down, teasing your soaked entrance. You whined and quickly shook your head. Matt’s brows knitted together in confusion. But then he felt your hand leave his ass, blindly finding its way to his cock. His hips twitched when your fingers curled around the girth of him, your head turning over your shoulder towards him again.

“I want you ,” you whispered.

You began stroking him, your arm twisted behind your back at an awkward angle as you did. Your hand felt so fucking good on him, but it wasn’t what he wanted to feel, either. He knew exactly what you’d meant. A rumbling noise left Matt, the sound of the storm outside entirely forgotten to him now as he focused solely on you.

His fingers quickly slipped out of your underwear, sliding down the front of them until he hooked the damp fabric between his fingers and tugged it to the side. Your hand soon released him, flying out in front of yourself to grip a handful of the silk sheets. Behind you, Matt’s hand landed on your hips, shifting you where he needed you before he grasped onto the base of his cock and lined it up with your entrance.

He heard the sharp inhale of your breath the moment the tip of him barely pushed into you. Your hips eagerly ground back against him, silently begging him to fill you. Without hesitation, Matt gradually plunged himself fully inside of your wet cunt, reveling in the delicious twitch of your muscles contracting all around him as you adjusted to fit him. His eyes fluttered closed, a low moan falling from his lips. You were so warm and wet and tight.

You felt perfect .

Matt continued to knead the breast he’d had in his palm, his other hand making its gradual way back to where it had been working your clit. He heard you curse under your breath, your head turning over your shoulder towards him. Knowing exactly what you’d wanted, his mouth landed on yours. While his hips set a rhythmic, steady pace as he pumped into you, his mouth placed soft, lingering kiss after soft, lingering kiss against yours.

Eventually he heard the way your hand released the sheets you’d been gripping. Instead, he felt you turn at the waist as he continued to lovingly roll his hips forward into you over and over, your hand coming up to tenderly cup his cheek. Matt’s tongue slid along your bottom lip in a slow glide, a beautiful whine falling out of you in return and meeting his ears. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, lapping languorously against your own.

And that was how the night carried on, with Matt’s hips sensually rolling forward into yours repeatedly as you eagerly tried to match his pace with your own hips, the pair of you attached at the mouth and panting heavily between kisses. The roll of thunder and steady patter of rain became nothing but muted background noise to Matt as he listened to every sound of pleasure coming from you.

Thursday

You’d had a long week at the Bulletin and you were happy as hell that tomorrow was finally Friday. While things had been great between Matt and you this first week of living together–more than great when it came to your sex lives, and your aching cunt was proof of that–you’d still been stressed at work. There was a story you’d been struggling with writing and it had been frustrating you to no end for the past few days. Though admittedly, the constant sex with Matt this week had been helping you relieve your frustration when you were off of work, even if it was incredibly distracting.

But he wasn’t home right now because he was out as Daredevil, scouring the rooftops and beating up bad guys this evening. Which was fine, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone out doing just that while you were together–certainly not the first time this week–and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. You'd quickly grown accustomed to his occasional absences in the evening, even if you still found yourself worrying about him.

A little while ago you had decided to put your laptop away, forget about work, and get cozy on the couch with one of your shows. Even though it was still strange being able to watch your shows on an actual television in Matt’s living room, you’d curled up under his plaid blanket and gotten comfortable. And that was where you'd remained the duration of the evening, waiting for his inevitable return.

You’d managed to get through a few episodes of the comedy you were watching before you finally heard the roof access door swing open. Instantly your head rose from the pillow you’d been resting on, glancing up at Matt’s Daredevil-clad form. You winced when he slammed the door shut behind himself, the loud noise reverberating around the apartment. Peeling his gloves from his hands, he aggressively stalked his way over to the stairs. His boots hit each step on his descent down them with a heavy thud . Absolutely everything about his body language told you that he’d had an awful night out as the Devil and he was internally fuming .

When he’d reached the last step, pulling the helmet from his head with one hand, you thought you might say something to him. Maybe ask if there was something you could do to help him relax. But the moment you’d opened your mouth, drawing in the slightest breath, Matt’s head snapped in your direction and you froze. His jaw was clenched and his eyes almost looked black. Your mouth immediately closed. Clearly, Matt was not in the mood for talking right now.

Settling back onto the couch, you watched as he made his way towards the closet behind the two armchairs to your left. He roughly yanked the doors open before opening the lid of his father’s steamer trunk. You heard the heavy drop of his gloves and his helmet, moments later hearing the sound of his billy clubs dropping into the trunk next. Silently you watched him kneel down, untying the laces of his boots one at a time. When he finished, both boots were gruffly disposed of into the trunk before he was standing back up, reaching for the zipper behind himself along his back.

Your eyes openly lingered on the gradual reveal of Matt’s muscled back as the zipper of his suit slowly exposed himself to you. He released the zipper once he’d undone the suit all the way down just to the top of his ass where you could see the waistband of his boxers peeking out. Biting your lip, you watched the muscles of his back flex and pull as he took a minute to slide one skin tight sleeve off of himself before removing the other. And then he bent over, his round, muscular ass directly in your line of sight as he slowly stripped the suit down each of his legs. Once he’d slipped the armor entirely off of himself, he was left in nothing but those tight, black boxers he always wore.

You could feel yourself getting turned on despite how irritated he seemed. You couldn’t help but watch as he folded his suit up in obvious frustration before stuffing it in the steamer trunk. He slammed the lid of it down a bit harder than necessary before he rose to his now bare feet, shutting the doors to the closet. Afterwards, he turned swiftly towards you, his focus easily finding you on the couch where you suddenly stopped breathing under the weight of his stare. His entire body looked tense, his shoulders tight and the muscles twitching in his cheeks.

“I’m going to shower,” he stated simply.

He stood there a moment, running a hand across his forehead as he stared back at you. You only nodded, unable to trust your voice. Because he had to know you were aroused right now with his senses, but he must have had a bad enough night out as Daredevil that he hadn’t even remotely wanted to remark on it.

Wordlessly Matt stalked off down the hall to the bathroom, flipping on the light and closing the door partially behind himself. Seconds later you heard the shower turn on. You tried your best to ignore the thought of Matt naked and soon to be wet under the spray of water in the other room. Though admittedly trying to force your thoughts away from everything sexual that was running through your mind now wasn’t easy. Attention returning to the show you’d been watching, you readjusted yourself on the couch and made yourself comfortable all over again.

Inevitably your gaze wandered back to the bathroom when you distinctly heard the glass door of the shower shut. Eyes narrowing, you stared at the light peaking through the crack of the bathroom door. Because why would Matt have turned the light on to shower? You knew he hated the buzz that lights emitted, and if he was frustrated, that extra noise would’ve only irritated him further. He had no use for the light anyway, he only ever turned lights on in a room when it was meant for your benefit.

It was a second before the realization hit you, your eyes growing wide. He definitely had noticed you were in the mood when he’d been stripping out of his suit, then. Turning the bathroom light on and keeping the door partially open must’ve been a sort of silent invitation for you. Maybe he’d been too riled up to use his words, or maybe…

Maybe Matt wanted something more than the sweet love making you both often had together. Maybe he wanted something even more than the naughty, playful sex, too. Maybe he needed something more tonight to relieve his frustration.

Something more like rough sex with a wound up and irritated Devil.

Because you knew Matt. And you knew he probably wouldn’t quite know how to verbalize what he wanted, let alone feel comfortable enough asking for that. He hated the thought of hurting you. But you’d encountered this with him a few times before, knowing that when he was this uptight returning from a patrol that hadn’t gone well as Daredevil, he usually needed a release. And he often enjoyed using you as that release–rather roughly, too.

Bottom lip slipping between your teeth, you immediately sat upright on the couch. You were more than willing to let him fuck you. The thought of him loosing the Devil on you already had a dampness forming between your thighs. You loved the sharp, rough edges of Matt just as much as you loved the sensitive, soft sides. And it had been awhile since you’d seen the Devil make an appearance in your sex life.

Tossing the blanket off of yourself, you turned off the television and rose from the couch before making your way down the hall and towards the bathroom. You slowly pushed open the bathroom door, stepping inside. You could see him washing himself through the frosted glass of the shower doors, making no move to acknowledge that you were in the bathroom. But he obviously knew you were there–especially with how aroused you were and how much you’d come to learn this week that scent alone easily affected him. There was no way he couldn’t smell it.

Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you slipped it up and over your head, your bare breasts exposed to the warm steam wafting through the bathroom as you tossed the article of clothing to the ground. Slipping your fingers inside both your sleep shorts and your underwear’s waistband, you slid them down your legs before they dropped to the floor. You stepped out of them, hesitantly making your way over to the shower before slowly sliding the glass door back.

You hesitated just outside of it, one hand lingering on the glass as Matt’s head once again abruptly snapped in your direction. He was standing under the spray of the water, his dark hair soaked and clinging to him. Your eyes followed a few beads of water as they raced down his scarred and toned chest, your pulse increasing at the sight. You could see the obvious tension in his muscles as you quietly took in the sight of him naked before you.

“Do you…need some help coming down from tonight?” you asked him.

Your eyes caught the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, nostrils flaring as he expelled a sharp breath.

“Would that be too much?” he gruffly questioned back.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head as you finally stepped into the shower. “I love all the sides of you, Matthew. I’ve told you that before.”

You turned around, sliding the shower door closed after yourself as some of the warm spray overhead began to cascade down your back. A surprised gasp fell out of you when you felt Matt’s hands suddenly grabbing your hips, his fingers firmly digging into your skin. Even you felt the way your pulse stuttered in response, his chin hovering just over your left shoulder.

“Are you sure?” the dark, gravelly voice you knew as the Devil asked, his mouth just beside your ear. “Because I have no desire to be gentle tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You inhaled a deep breath, excitement shooting through you at his words and the tone he’d spoken them with. It had been far too long since he’d let himself loose with you like this. Turning your head just over your shoulder, you spotted the wild look in his eyes. That only thrilled you further.

“I’ve told you before, Matty,” you whispered back. “Sometimes I like when you hurt me.”

His fingers dug into your hips even further, his lip pulling back into something akin to an animalistic snarl. A second later he’d shoved you up against the shower door, the cold glass pressed entirely to the front of you a sharp contrast to the warm water falling down your body. You could feel the heat from Matt’s naked body radiating off of him with how close he was standing behind you now, but it wasn't quite close enough to touch yours.

“You can say no,” Matt’s deep voice reminded you.

Head still turned over your shoulder, your cheek pressed against the glass of the shower door, your eyes remained fixed on his face.

“But I’m saying yes,” you whispered back.

A growl tore out of Matt as he yanked you away from the door, roughly turning you around towards himself before he slammed his mouth hard onto yours. His hands snaked their way around to your back, his blunt fingernails digging into your skin as he drew you in tight, crushing you to the front of himself. You could feel his already hard cock pressed between your slick bodies as his teeth gnashed at your bottom lip. A hiss of pleasure slipped from your mouth as your hands flew up, your own nails clawing at his thick biceps that held you firmly to him.

Matt’s mouth quickly retreated from yours, his teeth snapping at your earlobe before shifting downwards to your neck. As your head fell back over your shoulders, your eyes closing, you felt him nipping along the length of your collarbone. The sharpness of his bites was quickly soothed by the warm water running down the pair of you, Matt’s name slipping from between your lips as a moan.

Matt responded instantly to the sound of it, quickly spinning you before slamming your back into the tile wall of the shower. His flushed face hovered just before yours, his chest heaving as he stared hungrily back at you. He looked absolutely wild with his dark gaze fixed along your cheek.

“You cum when I say or you don’t cum at all,” he ordered, his eyebrows rising onto his forehead, a cocky smile on his face as he repeated to you what you'd said to him the other night. “And you don't touch yourself unless I say so. Am I clear?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, nodding quickly.

One of his hands shot out between the pair of you so fast that you didn’t realize he’d even moved until you felt him gripping you by the neck. His hold was just firm enough to put pressure on your throat, just enough without actually hurting you, as he pinned you to the wall. Your thighs clenched together, more wet heat building between them as you squirmed against the shower wall. You just wanted to feel him inside of you already.

“Use your words,” Matt demanded gruffly. “Am I clear?”

“Yes, Matt,” you answered immediately.

That smug smirk remained on his lips as he stared back at you pinned to the wall by your throat. His tongue slipped out slow and purposeful between his lips, his eyes momentarily closing in pleasure. You heard a low, rumbling noise stir deep from within his chest.

“You really do like this, don’t you?” he asked, that low, gravely tone of the Devil slipping out as he opened his eyes. “You like it when I’m rough with you?”

His hand tightened a little further around your throat and your hips desperately ground forward, searching for him. He shifted just out of your reach and you whined in response.

“Yes,” you answered him.

“You want my cock?” he asked next.

You nodded vigorously in response. “Yes, Matt, yes.”

That self-satisfied smirk drew itself across his lips once again, that dark look never leaving his face. “Then you’re going to beg me for it, sweetheart. Turn around,” he ordered.

He released his hold on your throat and you obediently spun on the spot. There was not a single thought in your mind besides how badly you wanted to feel him fucking you right now. Pressing the front of yourself to the shower wall, you looked over your shoulder at him behind you, waiting for instruction.

You saw Matt’s hand draw back just a bit before he swung it forward, the sharp crack of the slap he landed on your ass echoing through the shower. You could feel the desperate ache of your cunt begging for him to fill you as the sharp sting remained long after his palm had left your ass.

“Beg me to fuck you,” Matt ordered.

“Please, Matt,” you breathed out. “I’ve missed you all night. I was–was waiting for you to come home. Needed you.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

His hand drew back again before he landed another sharp slap against your ass. His palm lingered this time, briefly soothing the sting before he brutishly grabbed the soft mound of flesh and squeezed. Your eyes clamped shut, your ass pressing back into him in search of more.

“I need you,” you whined. “Need you to fill me, Matt. Fuck me until I can’t think–until I can’t walk.”

A pleased rumble sounded from him behind you, both of Matt’s hands playing with your ass he roughly kneaded the flesh between them. You could feel the slick steadily dripping down between your thighs now, your fingers uselessly gripping at the tile wall.

“Haven’t had enough of my cock?” he shot back. “Been fucking you all week and you still want more?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, nodding quickly. “Always want more. Always need you.”

Matt groaned loudly at your words, his hands sliding up from your ass to grip your hips. You felt him grind his hard cock against your ass and you soon realized how much he’d enjoyed hearing that.

“Please let me have you, Matt,” you begged, desperation creeping into your voice. “Please fuck me. I need you, baby. Need to feel you inside of me. No one–” a surprised gasp fell out of you as two of his fingers began teasing your entrance. “No one makes me feel as–as good as you do,” you panted out, eyes closing when he dipped his fingers inside of you.

“So wet for me,” he growled out.

You felt him abruptly thrust both thick digits all the way into you and your forehead dropped forward against the shower wall. A cry slipped out of you as a warm wash of bliss flooded your body at finally receiving something from him. Matt’s mouth came down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking firmly into your skin as a snarl rippled out of him. There was nothing gentle about the way he continued fingering you against the tile wall, though. Every aggressive pump emitted a loud, squelching noise as your hands helplessly clawed at the tile, your ragged breaths loud in your own ears. Matt’s teeth released your shoulder a few moments later, his lips just grazing your earlobe.

“I didn’t say you could stop begging,” he reminded you. “And you aren’t cumming yet, sweetheart.”

His fingers slipped out of you and you whined instantly at the loss of contact. Your body aching with desire, you spun around to see Matt had backed away from you. Inevitably your eyes dropped down from the lustful expression on his face to the particular appendage you most desired. Tongue slipping out to wet your lips, you stared longingly at him.

“You want it?” he asked.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Then show me,” the gravelly voice of the Devil demanded.

Taking a step towards him, you quickly sunk down to your knees on the wet floor before him. Without hesitation, you eagerly took him into your mouth, your nails running along his thighs as you did. One of Matt’s hands landed on the back of your head, fisting your hair firmly in his grip as he held on tight. His other hand roughly cupped a breast as he bent forward, firmly kneading the flesh in his hand. He loosed a loud moan that echoed in the shower, the warm spray falling over the pair of you as you vigorously sucked his cock. You couldn’t resist the urge to press your thighs together at the sound of his pleasure, your hips absently rocking as you searched for friction. But that only encouraged Matt’s grip to tighten on your hair.

“I told you that you cum when I say or you don’t cum at all,” Matt warned. “Are you going to listen to me?”

You immediately stopped your movements, humming an affirmative noise in response that had Matt moaning out as it vibrated against his cock. You knew how much that affected him every time you did it. One well placed moan while he was in your mouth could have him cumming instantly.

His grip eased on your hair. “That’s my good, sweet girl,” he praised. “Now show me how bad you want me.”

Friday

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Matt at the bedroom closet–and trying your best to ignore his distracting presence as he stood clad in nothing but a pair of his black boxers–you undid the top buttons of the blouse you were planning to wear to work, sliding it off the hanger. Beside you, Matt's hands slowly ran over the various tags on the different hangers of his suits. Your gaze flickered towards them at the movement, watching the way his fingers deliberately ran over the braille of each tag while he searched for the suit he was going to wear today. Every morning when he did this it always held your attention for far longer than necessary, and you swore he intentionally read slower because he knew.

Your tongue slid out, wetting your lips as you blinked hard and forced yourself to tear your attention away from his hands. With a hard swallow, you tried to focus back on getting yourself ready for work. Putting your arms through the sleeves of your blouse, you shifted your attention downwards as you began buttoning it up. Though you'd barely buttoned a handful of buttons before you heard Matt huff out an amused breath beside you.

Fingers pausing their movement, your gaze gradually slid up towards Matt's face. There was a self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he slid his arms into the sleeves of his dark blue dress shirt, his bottom half still clad in his black boxers as he stared back at you. Quirking a brow at him as he stood beside you, you had a feeling you knew what that look was about.

"We can make time, sweetheart," Matt said, his gaze dropping down as he also began buttoning up his own shirt now. "I told you that earlier."

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes dropped down to his fingers, watching as they deftly slid a button through the hole in his shirt before they slowly shifted to the button above it, repeating the action. It was a moment before you realized your own fingers were still holding onto the button you’d stopped on of your blouse. Clearing your throat, you once again tore your eyes away from his hands, but you couldn't deny there was a part of you considering his offer now.

"I told you, I can't be late for work, Matt," you repeated for the fourth time this morning.

"There's been an attempted robbery near fifty-sixth and tenth," Matt informed you. "Police apprehended the suspect, but you could always use it as an excuse. Foot traffic is slowed because they’ve had to block off the area." He shrugged a shoulder. "Tell Ellison it slowed you down on your walk to work. That you were investigating for a possible story. He won't know you were actually late because we had sex."

"Matt," you whined, hands dropping to your sides as you turned completely towards him. "How are we going to ever accomplish anything living together if we can't keep our hands to ourselves for a single day?"

Matt chuckled, his hands falling from his own partially buttoned shirt as he copied your movements, turning and facing you. "I am absolutely not complaining about the increase in sex,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m serious, Matt,” you grumbled. “We need to figure out a way to take a bit of a breather.”

“If I recall correctly, you’re the one who woke up aroused,” Matt pointed out.

“Because you were humping my ass, Matt,” you countered.

“Because you were moaning my name in your sleep and literally dripping, sweetheart,” Matt snapped back. “You think it’s that easy for me to just ignore that?” He took a step towards you, towering above you with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. “This whole place permanently smells like your pheromones and half the time it smells like your arousal when you’re just looking at me. I can barely breathe without getting turned on and wanting to fuck you.”

Something stirred within you at his words and that edge to his voice. It wasn’t fair that you found him sexy when he got irritated, but admittedly you hadn’t thought about how you living here would constantly affect him. You hadn’t thought about the way your scent would mix with his and turn him on–something he’d been telling you the other day–or how he’d often have to smell you aroused and have that scent lingering in the apartment all the time, too.

“You’re getting aroused right fucking now, too, I can smell you,” he pointed out.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered automatically.

Matt’s expression fell instantly at the tone of your voice, the tension easing out of his shoulders as he ran a hand across his mouth. Shaking his head, he focused back on you. “Don’t–don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You’re right though,” you agreed. “You do pick up on all these other things that I don’t and I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you to not act on anything. Because I have a hard time refraining sometimes. And it–it doesn’t help that I love you and I just always want to be with you like that. And there’s the whole, you know, excitement of everything,” you admitted shyly.

A grin tentatively slipped back onto Matt’s face as he hummed out a curious noise. “Excitement of what, exactly, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Of us living together,” you answered nervously. “Waking up and falling asleep next to you all of the time. Spending our evenings together. And our weekends. And–and what living together might mean for the future,” you added softly.

Matt’s hands reached out, smoothing the hair from your face before both of his large palms cradled it between his hands. He lowered his forehead towards yours, his eyes closing as he did.

“You’ve been thinking about the future?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you answered.

“And that’s also why you’re such a horn dog yourself this week?” he teased.

You couldn’t resist the snort of a laugh that fell out of you, Matt’s smile only widening on his face at the sound.

“In very simple terms, yes,” you admitted, eyelids lowering as you felt his thumbs brushing back and forth along your cheeks. “But also, I’m not used to seeing you wander around fresh out of the shower performing domestic tasks. Honestly, the fact that you clean is a turn on in itself.”

“I see the bar isn’t very high for you,” Matt teased.

“I guess not,” you joked back.

Silence fell between the pair of you as you both stood there in front of the closet, Matt’s forehead still pressed to yours as his hands still cupped your cheeks. You became very aware of the increase in your pulse and the way Matt’s lips had parted, his hot breath rolling out of his mouth and landing against yours. Swallowing hard, your hands reached up, slowly grasping onto Matt’s forearms and rumpling the fabric of his dress shirt. Matt’s nose lightly bumped yours, the gesture causing your lips to involuntarily part.

“I’m sorry for being an ass this morning,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “It just takes a lot to resist the pull I have for you.”

“I’m sorry for not initially being more understanding,” you murmured, hands sliding up to grip his biceps. “Didn’t realize how hard it would be for you to adjust to me being here.”

Matt’s lips connected to yours for a moment, lingering in a sweet kiss. Your grip tightened around his arms in response before he pulled away from you just a fraction.

“I love having you here,” he assured you. “Please don’t think otherwise.”

“I know,” you whispered, lips drawing into a smile. “You tell me that at least ten times a day, Matty.”

He leaned forward, placing a peck to your lips that had you giggling.

“Just want to make sure you know,” he replied.

“We uh, we do need to figure out the constantly being distracted by sex thing though,” you told him. “Because it’s–it’s getting a little out of hand.”

Matt hummed out a noise of agreement before he turned the pair of you just a bit to your left and began to walk you backwards. Your brows furrowed together as he did, watching as Matt’s lips drew into a playful smile. It was only a few steps before you felt your back hit the wall beside the closet.

“We do need to figure that out,” Matt agreed huskily.

His hands slid their way down your neck, continuing their descent over your exposed chest where your bra was on display because your blouse still remained unbuttoned, eventually making their way down to your hips. His face was hovering just a few inches from yours now, that familiar look of desire darkening his eyes as they stared hungrily back at you.

“But maybe we can figure it out this weekend,” he suggested. “Because right now all I can think about is fucking you against this wall.”

As if to emphasize his point, his hips rutted forward into you with just enough force that your back hit the wall and a gasp slipped out of your lips. You’d certainly noticed how hard he was through his boxers and your eyelids fluttered shut as you whispered a curse.

“Just be late for work this once,” he pleaded. “I’ll make it worth it.”

Bottom lip rolling between your teeth as Matt ground his hips forward into you again, you took a moment to consider his offer. Truthfully your cunt was sore from the use it had gotten this past week since you’d moved in with Matt, and even some of your muscles were sore from all of the different positions he had managed to contort you into throughout the week. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t mind going into work today and being this wound up the entire time, because you knew you’d be kicking yourself for not taking Matt up on his offer.

Resigning yourself to the only outcome that you knew was going to come of this, you sighed and released your hold on Matt, unbuttoning your blouse as Matt flashed a triumphant smile back at you. His own hands were quick to undo the few buttons he had managed to button on his shirt.

“Just don’t make me so late that the robbery story won’t be believable, Matty,” you told him. “I don’t need your dick getting me fired.”

He laughed, pulling his dress shirt off and tossing it somewhere behind himself near the bed. “Noted, sweetheart,” he replied, sliding his boxers down his thighs.

You’d barely removed your own underwear, not even having a chance to undo your bra, before Matt had scooped you up in his arms and shoved you back into the wall. There was a devilish smile on his lips and a dark gleam in his eyes as he maneuvered you in his arms, freeing a hand to line his cock up with your cunt that admittedly had been soaked since you’d woken this morning. You moaned when the tip of him pushed into you, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“That’s it,” Matt praised, gradually sinking you down onto his cock. “That’s my good, sweet girl. Let me make you feel good. You want that, don’t you?”

Your head rolled back against the wall, breath already coming in shallow. “Yes.”

You felt the slow slide of his cock as he dragged himself almost entirely out of you, but then in one swift, powerful thrust, his hips snapped forward and his cock plunged all the way back into you. Your eyes clamped shut, a cry of pleasure tearing from you as he hit that spot deep inside, the delicious sting causing your walls to squeeze him. Matt groaned out, his hips slowly moving backwards before he roughly slammed into you again, your head lightly bumping back into the wall behind you.

“Want you to think about this later, sweetheart,” Matt told you. “When you’re stuck at work, frustrated over the story I know you’ve been stressed about.”

He slammed himself back into you and you cried out again, goosebumps raising along your arms at the sound of his voice. Your hands slid up the back of Matt’s neck, making their way into his hair and gripping the strands roughly between your fingers.

“Just remember I’ll be here when you come home,” he grunted out, thrusting himself inside you again. “I’ll always be here.”

“Fuck–Matty,” you whimpered out, back arching along the wall as his pace increased. “I love you.”

His eyes closing tightly shut at your words, his hips stuttered momentarily before he readjusted his grip on you. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead to yours again, grunting with each sharp snap of his hips as he continued to fuck you.

“I love you, too,” he breathed out, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you so fucking much.” His fingers dug into your hips and thighs as he fucked you harder into the wall. “I’m all yours, sweetheart. Always yours.”

Roughly you tugged his mouth down towards yours, kissing him hard as your fingers tightened around the fistfuls of his hair. Matt was kissing you back with a ferocious need, the kiss all tongue and teeth. Loud, throaty moans filled the bedroom, mingling with the sounds of skin on skin as Matt continued to mercilessly fuck you into the wall beside the closet. All thoughts of work and needing to keep your hands to yourselves were completely lost from either of your minds as you cried out his name through the bedroom.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock series #daredevil smut #matt murdock #daredevil

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axcel-lucci · 8 months

Text

I was cooking (literally) 🤭

Trafalgar Law x fem!reader.

(Angst?)

@the-fluff-piece @sailor-cosmic-horror (idk what blog to tag 😭)

Part 1 is here

"Fuuuuuckkk" (y/n) groaned as Bepo tilted his head slightly.

"What's wrong, (y/n)...?" He asked cutely

"Ah... it's nothing... but fuck- my side hurts..." she laid back down with a grunt, "everything hurts..."

"A-ah?! I should call captain!"

"No-!" She yelled back, "I mean... no... it's not that kind of pain... well I mean it is kinda painful physically, but... not the pain I'm complaining about..." she sighed deeply.

Bepo merely hummed and sat beside her, "when you told captain how you felt and passed out... he panicked. I don't think I've ever seen him so panicked and stressed like that before." He admitted, "and when I asked him why he was like that, there was no clear answer... like he changes his story every time I ask a question. And once you were better he just... stormed out. It's weird... he'd usually check on his patient's condition before leaving..."

"O-oh..." she mumbled.

'I messed up this time... Huh? Do I talk to him? He might be mad or weirded out because of my confession... if only I didn't tell him all those things! I thought I was gonna die! Goddamit!!' She thought before frowning.

"Uh... you need to rest, okay? I'll check on captain first, then I'll come back to you..." Bepo said as he left

She just sighed deeply, "I need to make this right. If I just kept it a secret to the grave... to be fair, he would never let his crew die on him... no one really died in his hands, unless for enemies." She muttered.

A few hours later, she didn't realize she had drifted off to sleep. Only to be woken up by a warm hand softly clearing the hair away from her face.

Her eyes slowly opened before groaning, "again with the fucking light."

A deep chuckle echoed beside her, one that was highly recognizable by the human ears.

"C-captain?!" She gasped as she looked at him standing over her.

"How are you feeling? Sorry I stormed out like that... I just had to deal with some affairs of the sub. It was kinda damaged from the battle. Though I had Bepo check your vitals. I guess he forgot to do that..." he explains as he adjusts the tube that gives her some IV.

"A-ah..." she sighed before humming, "hey... captain. Can I ask you something?"

"Hm? Sure" he muttered as he scribbled down the clipboard.

She stayed quiet for a few moments, thinking of what to say; "remember what I said...? Before blacking out...?"

Law paused for a bit before sighing and nodded, "yeah... I... I do..." he muttered before placing down the clipboard and pen, "how... how long?"

"What...?"

"For how long have you felt this...?"

Her throat starts to dry and close up as she looked away, "quite a while now..."

"I need the exact date."

She took a deep breath, "I think... a year and a half... I'm not too sure though."

"So... you kept this to yourself... for a year a half...? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He muttered, he was hurt. Obviously. He knows why, but doesn't want to admit it.

She sighed deeply once more, "because I know you wouldn't feel the same about me..."

Law snapped his head to look at her in such a shocked manner. His wide eyes and a slight frown.

She didn't see it but it was fairly obvious.

"What do you mean...?"

"Cut me some slack, captain. The crew knows your stance on relationships... you just don't do them." (Y/n) muttered, her words getting choked on her throat, making it hard to speak. Her vision blurring with tears.

Law could only look at her with clear confusion and shock, "look... don't trust everything the crew says. Most of it is just rumour anyways." He grumbled a bit before holding her hand, "look. I didn't mean to make it seem like that, but in reality... I... I like you too... I just... didn't know you felt the same..."

She finally looked at him with tear filled eyes before sniffling, "really...?"

"Yes, really" he smiled softly before bringing her hand up for him to kiss, "when you get better, I'll take you out... what do you say?"

"Oh captain..."

"Law... just call me by my name now"

"Law... yes... please"

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ogradyfilm · 10 months

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Recently Viewed: I Am What I Am

I Am What I Am is the exact sort of pleasant surprise that defines Japan Cuts for me. The synopsis on the festival website led me to believe that it would be a somewhat overwrought melodrama; what I got instead was a delightfully unconventional, subversive romcom that omits the “romance” entirely.

The plot revolves around Kasumi Sobata, an asexual thirty-year-old struggling to navigate the pressures of a society that expects women her age to quit their jobs, get married, and have a bunch of kids. Unfortunately, her family practically epitomizes conformity and traditional gender roles. Her heavily pregnant sister, for example, dutifully ignores the warning signs that her husband might be unfaithful. Her grandmother, meanwhile—fresh off her third divorce—insists that a “proper” wife should accept infidelity as an inevitability. Worst of all, her mother—misconstruing her lack of a love life as evidence of depression—frequently sets her up on impromptu “dates” with “eligible bachelors,” hoping to force the issue of wedded bliss through manipulation, subterfuge, and sheer tenacity.

The conflict ventures far beyond the tropes typically associated with the genre. The primary “obstacle” isn’t the protagonist’s reluctance to abandon her own ambitions (though that is a secondary concern); her very identity is at stake. Whenever she admits that she is incapable of experiencing physical attraction, her feelings are immediately dismissed, invalidated, and trivialized. A male friend, for instance, assumes that she is merely making an excuse to “politely” reject his (abrupt, clumsy) flirtatious advances; he subsequently ends their platonic relationship.

The movie’s visual style is simple, yet elegant. Most scenes unfold from a single camera angle, with only minor adjustments to the frame: a pan here, a lateral dolly move there, the occasional slow push-in. This minimalism prioritizes behavior rather than action, allowing the performances (as opposed to the editing) to guide the rhythm of the narrative—and the actors absolutely deliver in that regard! Toko Miura is particularly compelling as our hapless heroine; whereas the character that she portrayed in Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Drive My Car was cold, aloof, and taciturn, Kasumi is sensitive, affable, and effortlessly funny—an impressive display of versatility.

Ultimately, I Am What I Am is a triumph of representation. It explicitly assures ace viewers that they are neither defective nor alone, encouraging them to express themselves freely and unapologetically—after all, no human being (queer or otherwise) should have to justify their existence; everybody deserves basic respect and dignity. The message is unsubtle by design—and that thematic transparency significantly deepens the film’s emotional resonance.

#I Am What I Am #Japan Cuts #Japan Society #Japanese cinema #Japanese film #Toko Miura #Shinya Tamada #film #writing #movie review

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youngpettyqueen · 9 months

Note

If you’re willing to write a ficlet, I’d love one with Hawkeye taking care of radar! (I’m a sucker for found family lol)

ironically I was thinking about this exact thing the other night and was gonna add it to the WIP list. might come back to this and expand on it at a later date but here's a little ficlet of the best brothers

Hawkeye rubs his hand soothingly over Radar's back, wincing sympathetically as the kid loses the last of his dinner. He can feel how hard he's shaking under his hand, a constant tremor running up and down his spine. Not a good sign.

He keeps himself positioned smartly, sort of like a shield between Radar and the rest of camp. Sure, they're right by the Officer's Club and someone throwing up right behind it isn't an unusual sight, but this is Radar. Radar throwing up behind the O Club would be the closest this place has ever gotten a scandal, and that gossip is the last thing he needs.

Finally, though, Radar goes quiet. Relatively quiet, at least, audibly gasping for breath but no longer heaving. Hawkeye glances over, frowning down at him as he remains doubled over with his hand planted against the wall to keep himself steady.

"You alright?" He asks.

"Uh-huh." Radar mumbles out, sounding anything but alright.

"You ready to admit you're sick as a dog?" Hawkeye follows up.

"Uh-huh." Radar concedes miserably.

Hawkeye maneuvers around a bit, keeping his hand on Radar's back but sliding the other under his front to ease him up to standing. Radar sways against him, leaning hard into his hands, so Hawkeye takes care in turning him around. He doesn't want to make him dizzy, on the off chance he has anything left in his stomach. Luckily, he doesn't seem to have anything left to give, but that's small comfort when his face looks practically green.

Hawkeye puts a hand on his forehead. Burning hot, sticky with sweat. Not surprising. "That's one hell of a fever you've got," He observes, frowning, "Damnit, Radar, you should've been on bedrest at least 5 degrees ago." He mutters. He's going to bite Potter's head right off at the neck for not making the bedrest request an order.

"'M sorry..." Radar murmurs, looking and sounding like a kicked puppy, dousing Hawkeye's ire faster than an ice cold shower.

"No, no, it's not your fault," He's quick to tell him, "Don't be sorry. I'm sorry. The most important thing right now is getting you to bed," With fluids, preferably. He casts a quick look around, then turns and hunkers down to offer Radar his back, "All aboard and all that, the Hawkeye Bus will now take you directly to your reservation in post-OP."

"I don't needa go to post-OP," Radar protests. This might have been effective if he didn't sound like a small, ailing child, and also if he wasn't actively complying and wrapping his shaky arms around Hawkeye's neck, "I've got a bed. It's a... it's a nice bed, even." He adds.

Hawkeye rolls his eyes, knowing Radar won't see him doing it. "Sure, sure," He agrees, "But it's also a very loud bed, and you're not gonna get any of the sleep you need if you've got people coming and going and waking you up at all hours," He feels Radar's weight settle against his back as he goes slack, so he reaches back and anchors his arms under his legs, "So, post-OP it is. But, look on the bright side," He pushes himself up to his feet, hunching a bit under Radar's weight but managing to keep his balance, "You'll have a pretty nurse keeping you company the whole time." He turns his head to flash him a grin.

"...Who's on duty?" Radar asks quietly.

"Bigelow." Hawkeye tells him, stilling grinning.

"...That's ok, then." Radar replies.

Hawkeye snickers. "You little fink." He teases. That little remark seems to have drained the last of Radar's energy, though, as he just drops his forehead against Hawkeye's shoulder and mumbles something completely unintelligible in response. Poor kid.

"Alright, alright," He adjusts Radar a bit on his back, settling him a bit more comfortably, "Hint taken. Bedtime." Radar's arms tighten just a touch around his neck, almost like a hug. Hawkeye's smile softens, and he gives his head a little shake before turning and heading towards the hospital. Next stop, post-OP.

Well, after a quick detour. There's a teddy bear he needs to pick up first.

#mash #fic bitching #shorts #hawkeye pierce #radar o'reilly #I reallyyyyyyy need to write Radar more I love him #I have the Fallen Idol rewrite but I need. more #my little guy #thank you for this request!#its funny timing literally the other day I wrote down in my notes to do a fic like this #you read my mind #I hope you like what I came up with!

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circusgoth-dotcom · 10 months

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Say Yes To The Dress

Ship: Cola Bubbles x Ramona Flowers

Word Count: 670

Summary: In anticipation of my first dress purchase in 7(+) years, here's a fic about Ramona giving my s/i the exact same dress I ordered. :0)

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife @rexscanonwife

A warm summer breeze wafted through the open windows of Ramona’s duplex as she sorted through her expansive wardrobe. One of her current boyfriends, Cola, had come over to help with the task as well, and now returned to her room from getting a Mello Yello from her fridge.

“How’s it coming along, ‘Mona?” They asked, sipping on their soda.

“I don’t think we’re even halfway through,” she sighed as she compared two similar pairs of shorts.

“Hey, at least we’ve got the categories sorted out, right?” Cola tapped the sticky notes labelling each pile: donate, garbage, upcycle, keep, never worn… it set its drink aside and dived into the closet, brushing his hand over all the different textures of Ramona’s garments. “Man, you always have the cutest shit…”

Ramona smiled. “I know. You compliment me all the time.”

“Yeah, because you’re my girlfriend, and that’s my job. To bask in your inherent beauty and good taste.” They turned around to glimpse the sure blush on her round cheeks, then turned again as a dress caught their eye. They plucked it off of the hanger rod and brought it out into the light. “Does this one still fit you?”

It was a short, white number with lacy details and off-the-shoulder puff sleeves. A small, cross-shaped detail situated under the bust glittered in the afternoon sun rays.

“I honestly forgot I had it,” Ramona set down the shorts on their respective piles and took the dress from her partner, holding it up to her body and looking at her reflection in her full-length mirror. She turned slightly, eyeing how the fabric lay against her curves. “It might. I’m not sure if I still want it, though.”

She handed it back to Cola, who seemed mesmerised by the garment. “I haven’t worn a dress in ages. I stopped because, you know, I didn’t feel like much of a man, wearing them and being shaped the way I am…”

“You can try it on if you want.” She then pointed to Cola’s soda can. “Can I have a sip?”

“Yeah, sure,” Cola smiled and handed it to her, their eyes sparkling. “A-and… you mean it?”

“Of course.”

“Well… alright! Best do it now and not like how it looks than not do it and regret it later.” Cola laid the dress on Ramona’s bed, removing the hanger, and set to stripping away its Weezer tank top and jean shorts, leaving itself in a black sports bra and white boxers.

“Here, I’ll help you. Arms up, and take off your glasses,” Ramona instructed, setting aside the can and reaching for the dress. Blushing, Cola did as it was told. Bunching up the thin fabric, Ramona laid it at Cola’s feet. He stepped into it and allowed her to pull the dress up his body, adjusting it as needed so that it looked right on him. He slipped his arms into the cuffs and anxiously pressed his palms down on the skirt of the dress, completely red in the face. Ramona smirked and handed him his glasses.

“W-well?” Cola asked quietly, too anxious to look in the mirror.

“See for yourself,” Ramona hummed, gently turning him toward his reflection. Slowly looking up, it gasped, covering its mouth.

“Holy shit…”

“You are adorable, Cola.” She leaned over and pecked his cheek, making him bury his face in his hands in embarrassment.

“You’re sure I can keep this?” He asked softly after lifting his face and inhaling sharply.

“Yes, Cola, you can keep it, I’m not going to wear it. We can go on a date, you wear this and I’ll wear my blue dress.”

Cola giggled, twisting his short hair around his finger. “Oh, gee, that’d be…” He giggled again and cleared his throat. “Sounds like a plan. Why don’t we do it tonight, take a break from this clean out and get some dinner with Scott?”

Ramona nodded and kissed him again, on the lips this time. “I love you, Cola.”

“Love you, too, Rammy.”

#self shipping #self shipping community #self insert #self insert x canon #self x canon #self insert oc #oc x canon #circus scripts #❗Multiplayer❗#🌟🦝.s/i

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cooltrainererika · 1 year

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I drew Alt-talia Japan, China, and Father Korea

I decided I should start redesigning how I draw the characters, taking into account facial features from the countries in question; while I’ve done this before with my previous redesigns, I’ve looked more into it, took note of more stuff, and I wanted to see what the Asians would look like with this in mind too. It would help give the characters more distinct faces and all that, helping alleviate Hima’s Same Face Syndrome a bit. So almost all art I’ve done so far is now out of date lol. Also I wanted to see how short-haired modern Alt-talia China might actually look like, and I wanted to give Father Korea a design already. I maybe I should have drawn this in time for @hwsasiaweek , but whoops… Maybe I’ll submit it next year.

Despite me giving them these unique traits though, I wanted most of all to keep the resemblance to the original. Hence why I keep the anime pseudo-Hima style; if I deviated from the style too much they might be unrecognizable, I’d have to remove iconic parts of their design. Maybe it might clash with some of the subject matter I tackle, but whatever.

I’m most proud of Japan here! I was worried if changing his eyes, an iconic part of his design, would change him a bit too much, but I was able to keep them big and weird-looking. He looks almost cat-like for some reason. I wanna pinch his cheeks, he’s so cute. Pretty fitting for modern Japan’s image I must say.

I read somewhere that tareme eyes may be more common in Japanese people than other East Asians, and while idk if that’s true, it definitely fit Japan for him to be the only Eastern Asian with tareme eyes, counteracting the sharper effect more upward slanted eyes give, though them being more big and round definitely help too.

China… I fixed and adjusted him possibly the most, and I had many versions of him. I changed so much about him, the eye shape, the hair, even the eye color. Though I did heavily reference that one pic Hima drew of short-haired China. So I was worried if he still resembled China, but according to a lot of my friends he still does, so woo! The other thing I paid attention to was his androgyny; it’s a bit important to his character, so I wanted to keep it even with his shorter hair. I was also worried if he looked too ��white” but my mother suggested that was just the suit. I tried a lot to keep these aspects in mind, and finally came up with a result I was somewhat satisfied with.

I drew him in a suit because I write Modern!China as a pragmatic businessman type; though I might draw him in something more traditional sometimes, I’d probably be drawing Modern!China like this often. The tsurime eyes definitely compliment the personality I give him. I debated letting him keep his amber eyes, and I darkened them, but they still look amber. Amber eyes apparently exist in East Asia and golden eyes could represent how special he was back in the day, so it fits I guess, so he still has sort of amber eyes.

Still, something feels missing without the ponytail…

Father Korea/Goryeo/Joseon/Korean Empire (though this is him during the Joseon era in particular) finally has a design! Yay! So people who read Student of China can finally have a face to put on him. Though he’d usually have his hair up, so he’d actually rarely be seen like this unless he’s going to bed or is about to take a bath or something. I’ll draw him with his hair up and hat on later.

I was split between giving him facial hair or nah, I just wasn’t quite sure on his age; but because a friend told me to keep the version with facial hair, I chose this one and to make him older. Pretty much all the Joseon reenactors aged, like, 30-50 I saw seemed to have this same exact mustache and beard, so I only assumed it was a thing. I was going for a DILF with this design and from the feedback I got it looks like I succeeded lol. I also tried copying South Korea’s face shape exactly, and had to use quite a bit of Photoshop to get it just right because my initial line work wasn’t quite right.

The stray hair may curl up or down depending on his mood; if he’s very excited for example it may curl up like South Korea’s hair curl, and if he’s depressed it may curl down like North Korea’s. I’m not exactly sure on this detail though because it might come across as Narm-y in serious scenes.

#hetalia redesign #hws japan #hws China #hws Korea #hws Joseon #alt-talia #alttalia

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awiola · 9 months

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Normal update, summer XXIII

RNG said to write the year in roman so here it is.

September is upon us so it's time for an update. I think I'll make them a seasonal[?] thing so there's actually enough to write about.

Let's start with failures ✨

My great, glorious and magnificient sunofes game with scifi elements is postponed indefinitely. I had some ideas but wasn't sure how to continue during certain moments so it's shelved for now. I still find the idea cool, or at least relaxing, so it's going to be finished eventually.

The spooktober idea has changed. Though I suppose that's not considered a failure? I realised that it's too big to create in a month and combining it with mushroom jam would feel kind of forced so it's also temporarily shelved. I'll talk about the new project later.

It came to my attention that most of my web builds don't display properly on mobile and require [not so] minor gui adjustments. I plan to take care of that this year if possible and also finish properly whatever project had some elements missing [like a CG, for example].

That's it for failures, time for other stuff.

Mushroom jam has officially started today.

It lasts three months so there's still time to join even after spooktober and such. As of writing this post, 236 people have joined so maybe we'll get 50 entries if it goes well.

Next year we'll have Insect (Adjacent) jam, lasting probably two months and starting around late summer. The exact date is tbd. Same with the jam's page so no link for now.

Current game stuff

[Apparently tumblr's html does not allow h3, interesting... ]

Other [secret] projects are going more or less as before, though I joined yet another one as a cg artist because I have absolutely no self restraint. It's not for a jam, though, so I can be prety chill with it. Can't really share the details yet but it's about ace teens. Look forward to it[?].

As I mentioned before, the spooktober project has changed. And separated so I'm also making something for mushroom jam later. Mushroom Game is still undecided but there's a strong chance it might be hanahaki inspired. But who knows, it could still change. I have three main contenders, might gain even more...

Spooktober Game is planned to be a surrealist dark comedy scifi [but unfunny cause I'm not funny]. How much it'll fit the genre - who knows. I'll definitely try.

I'm solo devving in case something went wrong; the character designs, however, were done by someone else as I can't decide on the general graphic design. I read a book on that so hopefully it helps me create better ui than before.

Plot wise it's inspired by many things but the structure is more like that of Liar Liar, Lily's day off or Pervert&Yandere. Basically save at every choice. I'll also prepare a handy flowchart for anyone interested as I'm using it to plan stuff anyway and name labels. The whole thing is supposed to be at least somewhat significantly chaotic but as usual, I ended up adding too many grounded[?] elements? Stuff that makes it less surrealist than I planned... I think it might actually change into a time loop story, even... Well, we'll see. I'll get a fun tester to see if it's okay or should be scrapped and rewritten.

Besides that... There's stuff I won't mention yet in case it never happened but I may or may not have some projects prepared for the future~~ But that's for the future.

Over.

#devstuff #vndev #awi update

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incarnateirony · 2 years

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Script process detailing

So something I had assumed fandom would know, but... I realized, talking to a friend, they don't. So let's talk about what a network draft is. In fact, let's talk about the general process. So people understand expectations.

Screenwriting for TV generally goes through a general process

Writer's Draft > Studio Draft > Network Draft > Production Draft

These, also, have multiple stages. So for example, Robbie writes the first writer's draft, and gives it to Chaos Machine. Chaos Machine discusses what they like or don't, and may send it back for a few tweaks. Once the Studio Draft is final, they take it to the network.

Then, the network starts saying what they want changed, which then rolls the draft back again. So for example, a "4th network draft" has already graduated from writer, to studio, and been given to the network 3 times previously for adjustments.

-- Now to also highlight the date on that 4th network draft. Notice, 12/17. This is normal for what's basically a final submission for something trying to be taken to order.

So. like. networks take holiday. Big holiday. The exact schedule of it depends on the network, shuffles a few weeks forward or back, but basically they leave for christmas and come back a week or two into january.

This is the point that they collect all the different scripts they've accumulated over the year and go to a table to basically debate what they want to order to pilot. Depending on the time they came back, either late January or very early February is when they order things to pilot--hence the Feb 3 announce for Winchesters, Independence and others. They're generally ordered together, not separately. Like basically they've made the Approved pile vs the No pile, and the Approved pile goes to order.

This would be the 4N draft submitted right before everybody took holiday. SOMETIMES someone runs a final edit in the door around then but that gets messy.

While something is taken to order, the script is generally "approved", but the network may make final demands. For example "We need more Dean for sentiment" or "have Sam cameo bringing in a sammich so CBS is happy" or something. Just for ideas. But basically by then you have a general idea of what the network is generally happy with as the product.

At this point, depending on if it was late January or early February, late march or early april filming is normal. It's admittedly a little funky that a Feb announce has one going to March filming, but we've discussed that a lot so we're not gonna beat it to death.

However, between when it's ordered and when it's filmed, we're now in the Production drafts. You may have heard about SPN's color coding of scripts--cherry, yellow, etc etc. Every production has different draft forms, but things like color coding is unique to a production. Like a blue script might mean a different dev phase than it does on SPN, just to knock that out of the way.

But either way there can be like... 8 production drafts. Sometimes it's less if it requires less revision. The reasoning on these changes is different though. For example, time. The Winchesters script is about 60 pages--given, Robbie is wordier in description than most screenwriters, always has been. But that's still too much. It's gonna need to lose about 15 pages of content.

This content is likely to be reallocated elsewhere in the series unless it's at some point decided to be just... useless. But for example the Winchesters script has a LOT of exposition dumps. So then a script phase may pull several of those out for later and then look at how it flows after. Sometimes content intended to be parallel or something doesn't fit anymore without it's partner then, so they may be removed or revised. Sometimes it just flows weird when the segues are different so transitions and cuts need adjusted. Sometimes dialogue needs tweaked as a result. You get the idea. You've all edited a fic or something before. Just imagine every copy having a different name. Along the way scenes also get "locked", almost secured in their place/number, so sometimes things just get. You know. The cursed [omitted]. Just rarely to the level we saw in the finale. That tends to be indicative of major changes in the later copies, because the entire process is about shuffling things around early on.

At the end of the Production phase, the final script is still comprised pretty much completely of things that were originally approved in the network draft that got sent to order, but it's not there in completion due to the changes, shuffles, removals and omissions. Also, whatever this final script looks like, it's rarely recognizable compared to the first writer draft. It's been sent up, down, up, down, up, up, down, up, down, up, down, up, down, up, and then possibly put through a blender.

So the 12/17 4th network draft for the Winchesters is what got sent to order, when the execs came back from vacation, argued about what to advance for a few weeks, and then ordered. The Feb 4 leak came with the Feb 3 announcement, which was about a week before the casting leak as well--indicating someone else got their hands on it too, though I doubt it's from the same source the one we're distributing did--as much as where THAT person got THEIRS from. But it IS what set people off that HAD the Feb 4 leak going "WAIT, REAL???"

We're now a few weeks later, so they're probably a few drafts into these Production changes. They have to reduce it for time, adjust resulting delivery and make necessary changes between now and when they're ready to shoot, and you generally want it finished a few weeks in advance.

This, ironically, is probably what Pat means when he says -- after much initial denial -- his source says "some of it is real." I don't know if he KNOWS why that is, but the reality is, while it's all real, it's not final, and parts of it are going to disappear, be reordered, or experience minor final tweaks. It's not going to hit major dramatic changes at this point beyond these types of things, though, because that would require playing ping pong with the network all over again to completely change the idea, and they only have a few weeks to get ready at this point. They need the product by the time May calls are hit, and it needs filmed, and put through post in that time. You snooze, you get pushed off for a calendar year or worse, just, dropped and never looked at again.

I just realized I REALLY needed to explain this, as half of people might think it'll air EXACTLY LIKE THAT, and another half probably heard me talking about "not final, going through changes" and might think that means VIOLENT AMOUNTS OF VARIATION, when the truth is more somewhere in the middle.

Hope that clears it up for people.

I should also caveat this also makes it seem simpler than it is (believe it or not), but things like pitch, arena, board, outline, etc are all phases that come before the writer's draft, so not worth confounding this post any more deeply when it's more to explain the later phases/timelines.

#spn prequel #the winchesters #scripts

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sinnamonrolle · 3 years

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[ the little moments] ♡ Beelzebub

6 - That moment when you accompanied Beelzebub to the military.

✿ part of a series! ✿

❀ gender neutral reader ❀

Warnings: Mentions of blood

“I’m sorry,” Beel said. One of his hands patted your head in the form of a silent apology. “Our date got postponed because of the military summon… I really wanted to share Madam Devian’s new dessert with you.”

You smiled at him, catching his hand in yours and giving them a squeeze. You couldn’t deny that you also were excited to try out the new cake that Madam Devian released recently, but any time with Beel was time well spent. It didn’t matter whether you went to a bakery or the military, as long as you were with him.

“It’s alright. We can always go later,” you said. “But are you sure I can go in with you?”

Beel scowled at the fence gate in front of you two, its barbed wires separating you from the military encampment. He gently squeezed your hands back. “Don’t worry. They will let you in.”

From beyond the gate, way in the back, you saw a demon in a white military uniform rush out from a large building. His cap almost flew off from how quickly he arrived at the gate.

“General Beelzebub!” the demon greeted, saluting. He opened the gate, and you two stepped inside. “I have been awaiting your presence. I thank you for coming here on such short notice.”

“Don’t worry about it, Colonel Alastor,” Beel said, but you knew he was secretly a little upset about it. You could tell from the way his eyebrows were furrowed, the slightest bit of indentation appearing at the base of his forehead. “What do you need me for?”

“Of course, general, please follow me to the training grounds. I will explain on our way there,” Alastor said, but then his eyes fell on you, and he added on, “General, may I ask who your guest is? So that I may provide the correct identification tag.”

“My lover,” Beel said, his face straight. He didn’t even blink.

You almost choked at how naturally Beel spoke, as if he was simply ordering a meal at a restaurant, but it seemed you weren’t the only one surprised. You saw the shock settle on Alastor’s face before he quickly collected himself.

“I apologize, Your Grace. Please excuse my rudeness,” Alastor said to you, bowing deeply at the waist. “Please allow me to welcome Your Grace to the Royal Army.”

“Ah, thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm up slightly. You were trying your best to not appear flustered, but perhaps your nervousness was leaking into your actions. Beel announcing that you were lovers made butterflies flutter at the bottom of your stomach—you even thought your heart might have skipped a beat. “Please, don’t worry about me. Just go ahead and do what you need to do. I’m just here to, uh, sightsee.”

Alastor smiled and closed the gate before leading you two to a field further down the path. It was a stone path, you noticed. After visiting almost every nook and cranny of the Devildom, you could conclude that Devildom didn’t have any concrete. The flooring was always wood, stone, brick, or marble.

You nudged Beel in the side. “You’re a general?” you whispered as you both followed Alastor. You knew demons had enhanced hearing, but you whispered anyway. It wasn’t anything that needed to be kept secret, but you felt that it was a bit embarrassing to ask a question that seemed to be common knowledge.

Beel didn’t seem to mind. “Lieutenant general to be exact,” he said. “I’m referred to as ‘general’ though. Diavolo is the actual five-star general. Although, I don’t know if I still count as one since I’ve been taking a break from the army ever since you’ve arrived in the Devildom.”

“If I may interrupt,” Alastor spoke up from the front. “I would say that General Beelzebub has all rights to keep his rank. Even if he has been away from the army for some time, he has been very helpful in leading us, especially with new recruits. They are always a willful bunch.”

“Is your new batch acting up?” Beel grumbled. “You just have to give them a good beating.”

Alastor sighed. “I would do exactly what the general advises if they weren’t children of nobility. As a demon of common blood, I’m afraid they will complain to their families and have them take my head.”

“Even though you are a colonel?” you asked, baffled. Even if Alastor wasn't a noble, this was the army. How could new soldiers affect the colonel? To this day, you still weren’t a hundred percent clear on demon hierarchy. Perhaps, after spending so much time with the brothers, you’ve become desensitized to it all.

“I may be a colonel to them, but to their families, I am a mere commoner,” Alastor replied with a chuckle, and then he stopped in front of a field. Since the Devildom was always dark, several round balls of light hovered in the air, lighting the field enough that you could barely see the faces of the recruits. They were spread all over the field, but it didn’t really look like they were training. “Alright. General, Your Grace, we have arrived at the training grounds. Your Grace, please take this visitor tag.”

Alastor handed you a clip-on tag with the word “VISITOR” printed neatly in bold letters. But before you could accept the tag, Beel took it from Alastor and carefully pinched it onto your clothing.

“They don’t have benches on the field,” Beel said, smoothing out your clothes. His purple eyes met yours. “Will you be okay standing nearby?”

You brushed his bangs away from his eyes and smiled at him. “I’ll be okay. Will you be okay though? Are you hungry?”

“I’m not hungry.” Beel brought you into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you. When you returned his hug, he brushed his lips against your cheek and murmured into your ear, his voice a low, soothing hum, “I have you here with me, after all.”

And then Beel was pulling away from you. You had half the mind to chase after his touch, but you held back, knowing that perhaps now wasn’t the best time.

“Hold my jacket, please?” Beel asked. When you held your hands out, he shedded his jacket and gave it to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thanks, Pudding. I’ll be back soon. If anyone annoys you, just let me know. I’ll deal with them.”

“Okay.” As you followed Beel’s figure with your eyes, you pressed his jacket to your face, the traces of his remaining heat warming your face and the soft smell of laundry detergent filling your senses. With his back straight and his posture full of confidence, every inch of him was unyielding, commanding, demanding to be obeyed.

In that moment, you could see Beelzebub on a battlefield, blood darkening the streaks of his orange hair. A spear in hand, the silver of the blade dripping red and dampening the carmine tassel tied beneath the blade. Beelzebub tattered, tired, torn apart mentally—you could see it, you could see it all in your head because you knew he lived through a war before. You could see the blank look on his face, the agony tightening his throat, the truth of loss settling into his body—

“Your Grace,” Alastor said, his voice breaking you out of your reverie, “it may be safer if you stand over here against the wall.”

You broke away from Beel, who was now speaking with the recruits. Alastor stood slightly further away, off to the side next to a gray brick wall. Smiling, he waved you over.

Clutching Beel’s jacket closer to you, you hurriedly walked over to him. There was a slight embarrassment creeping up on you when you realized that Alastor probably saw you staring at Beel for who knows how long.

“I’m sorry,” you said, settling yourself against the wall when there was a respectable distance between you and Alastor. “I didn’t realize I was blocking the way.”

“Not at all, Your Grace.” Alastor laughed. For some reason, some of his mannerism reminded you of Barbatos. “Everyone knows that the new recruits are training today, so not many others will be around here. Since the recruits are allowed to use magic in their training, I am afraid that a stray spell might hit you if you stayed out in the open. If the noble families will have my head if their children complain about me, then General Beelzebub will ensure that I suffer for the rest of eternity if I allow you to get hurt.”

You hummed, hands fidgeting with the zipper of the jacket as you turned back to Beel, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting to find his silhouette. The balls of light were sparsely distributed across the entire field, emitting enough light that you could just barely make out the details. You supposed that the lights were just so that the demons weren’t training in complete darkness. Most demons have excellent night vision, after all. But for a human like you, you were glad the field wasn’t that big and that they weren’t that far out. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to see Beel tilting his head as he crossed his arm, the warm light whitening the orange strands of his hair.

“Maybe not for the rest of eternity,” you quipped with a smile, although there wasn’t much room to disagree.

There was something warm in hearing that Beel would raise hell to protect you. To know that there was someone out there that cared about you, someone that loved you, someone that considered you as family—a fluttery feeling coursed through your body, spreading out from your chest, and your heart was clenching in something that wasn’t pain but something similar enough that it hurt yet still felt so sweet.

“Your Grace is right. The general would destroy me instantly,” Alastor said, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.

It was then that you were able to clearly make out the voices on the field. You weren’t that far away in the first place, but when Beel first approached the recruits, you didn’t hear anything distinct at all.

“For honor?” Beel asked, his voice raising in disbelief. “What kind of honor could you be fighting for if you’re fighting in such a lackluster way? How honorable is it to fool around?”

“Fool around?” a demon scowled. He stood at the forefront of all the other soldiers who had gathered around Beel. On his chest was a rose crest, imprinted into his brown military uniform. “Do you think we are fooling around? Who are you to say that?”

Beel scoffed, shaking his head in disappointment. “Your footing is off. Too clumsy. You don’t put enough weight into your strikes, and your moves are too extravagant. Fighting with your body is not supposed to be flashy. This is the battlefield, where your lives are on the line, not some game where you show off. You don’t even have the basics down. Colonel Alastor is an excellent teacher and fighter. Haven’t you been listening to him?”

The demon with the rose crest growled, his hands bunching into fists at his sides. Another demon next to him crossed their arms and sneered.

“Are you mocking us? Why should we listen to a mere commoner?”

Next to you, Alastor sighed and rubbed at this forehead, seemingly more troubled than offended. You could see why. They were essentially spoiled brats who thought the worlds revolved around them.

The rest of the group also spoke up, their voices mixing into each other as they tried to announce their displeasure, but after listening for some time, Beel just simply raised a hand.

“Enough,” he said. Pure power, heavy and pulsing, rushed out from the word as it rumbled from his chest, the oppressive force pushing the recruits down. Some of them buckled under the pressure, while others tried their best to fight back against it, only to end up collapsing entirely. “This is the army. It doesn’t matter what family you’re from if you’re not strong enough.”

Even though you were farther away behind Beel, you still felt the residue power wash over you in waves. You shivered at the sensation, and the urge to make yourself appear smaller briefly crossed your mind. Out of the corner of your eye, Alastor shuddered but remained standing upright.

“Who are you to say that?!” a demon at the front gasped, a hand on their knee as they straightened themselves. “You’re not even wearing a military uniform or a tag! Do you even have the authority to be here?”

“That’s General Beezlebub to you.” Beel took a step forward and started stretching his arms, rotating them slowly. You knew him well enough to know that he was most definitely frowning from the tone of his voice, the ends of his lips curving downwards and his eyes narrowed, the dark purple glowing dangerously. “Although, from the sound of it, I doubt you would address me properly.”

“Beelzebub? I’ll have you know that I am the eldest son of the Duke of Rosales,” the demon huffed, smoothing out the rose crest on his chest, “and I have not heard of a Beelzebub from any noble family.”

Beelzebub snorted, switching to his other arm, and took another step forward. The recruits, despite their tough act, all took a collective step back.

“Son of Rosales,” Beel said, “since you’re so adamant about status, I’m sure you are well aware of those above you. Address me correctly then—it’s Prince Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony.”

The son of Rosales gulped, his body stiffening against the warm lighting. In the silence following Beel's command, the whispered words—the non-sovereign prince, Beelzebub—hung loudly in the air.

This was a first for you. You’ve never really seen Beelzebub flaunt his status, nor have you really felt the weight of the ranking of prince until this moment, where the once prideful recruits were now cowering in part fear and part awe.

Pride blossomed in your chest. This was Beelzebub—your prince, your Beel, your lover.

“Why don’t you come and show me what it means to fight for honor?” Beel asked the demon with the rose crest. “I’ve never slacked off, not even after I took a break from the army. Every single day, I kept training because I knew why I was fighting. I fight to protect my family. Every moment of suffering will pay off in the form of my loved ones’ lives in the future.”

Beel readied himself, bringing both of his hands up close to his face, and said, “So, recruits. Show me your determination. In return, I will show you mine.”

The world faded around you as you watched Beel throw himself into fight after fight, often defeating the recruits within one or two moves. Despite appearing so burly, he possessed surprising agility. He seemed so limber as he evaded all of the punches and kicks thrown his way, almost like he was dancing.

The recruits that Beel struck down always made their way back up, like a switch had been turned on inside them. It must had been what he said earlier, the pure determination of his words inspiring the soldiers, as well as the natural instincts of a demon to respect the strong.

Beel turned around with a sweeping kick. You briefly saw his well defined abdomen as the shirt fluttered back into place. A dark tail aimed for his head, but he leaned backwards slightly to avoid it as it swept past, extremely close to brushing against the tip of his nose. As he did so, the white light warmed the outline of his body like a halo—illuminating.

Beelzebub was utterly enchanting—you couldn’t deny it at all. You didn’t want to, and you didn’t need to, because that was the truth, and the truth was all yours to appreciate. Watching him like this took your breath away.

A group of recruits jumped out of nowhere. They lunged at Beel’s back in a semicircular formation, their demon forms out, and you almost shouted out to warn Beel when, with barely a glance behind him, he slammed his foot into the ground. The force of it shattered the terrain into fragments. A wave of magic rushed out, colliding head-on with the soldiers, and it swept them away in a heap of tangled limbs. The recruits groaned in pain.

The residue of the magic electrified the air, crackling along the broken edges of the ground. You felt it sparking against your arms, the sensation of his magic a familiar feeling to you, yet it never failed to give you goosebumps.

“The battlefield doesn’t tolerate failure,” Beel said, swinging an arm behind him just in time to elbow a recruit right in the middle of their chest, knocking the breath out of them. “Failure means death.”

Perhaps you were too captivated by the sight of Beel displaying his prowess, but it was only when Alastor called out did you realize that a particularly huge but unstable spell was coming straight at you.

“Your Grace!”

You knew better. You really did. You didn’t survive this long in the Devildom for nothing. You had your fair share of experience in surviving dangerous spells, at closer distances than this, but as you watched the roaring flames come at you, you could only stay frozen in place, hands clutching Beel's jacket in your hands.

Vaguely, you heard Beel shout your name—the sound echoing in the air, echoing around you, echoing in your mind, matching the increasing tempo of your heart—then everything went dark.

The faint smell of leather and something that you instinctively recognized as belonging to Beel filled your nose. Strong arms wrapped around you, the embrace familiar yet also somewhat strange, and with a low buzzing sound in your ears, you also heard—no, you felt the desperate heartbeat.

Beelzebub.

Beel held you to him, so tightly to the point that you were crushed, your body completely melding with his. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, pressing you into him, and the other clasped your waist.

Beel was shaking.

Even though he was the one holding onto you, like you would disappear if he didn’t hold onto you hard enough, his body was trembling—in fear. Fear of you getting hurt, fear of losing you, fear of not being quick enough, of not being strong enough, of not being decisive enough to protect his family yet again. The debilitating terror that often accompanied his nightmares—you were all too familiar with it.

So you wrapped your arms around him, feeling the unsteady, nervous flapping of his wings, now understanding why you felt leather instead of skin, and you squeezed him back.

I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.

You gathered all the feelings bunched up in your chest and sent them through your pact bond, hoping he could feel that you were absolutely safe and unharmed. He shielded you, after all. From the ebbing magic on his body, you could tell that he teleported over to you. That was how he made it on time.

Beelzebub. I love you. I love you so much.

Beel slowly pulled back, his eyes a chaotic mixture of purple and magenta, and you noticed that he had indeed transformed into his demon form. But before you could say anything, he started running his hands all over you. Gentle but hurried fingers traced your face, down your throat, around your torso, all the way down to your feet. He inspected every part of you in a desperate frenzy.

“Beel,” you said, cupping his cheeks. “I’m safe. I didn’t even feel the heat. But are you hurt anywhere?”

Beel shook his head and went back to checking your body, but you patted his face, huffing. He stopped almost reluctantly, eyes meeting yours once again.

“I’m not hurt,” Beel said. “Alastor casted a barrier just in time.”

Something silver shimmered in the air behind Beel, barely noticeable unless you knew what to look for. Gratefulness flooded you. Beel might have thought it was fine to protect you with his body, but you didn’t want him to get hurt at all. If you had just reacted fast enough earlier… then Beel didn’t have to throw himself in front of you, and Alastor didn’t have to cover for you.

After the gratefulness came the guilt.

“You’re really not hurt anywhere?” Beel asked, but his eyes were already searching your body for any potential injuries. “Really, really?”

“Really, really,” you answered. “I’m really okay. I’m sorry though… I don’t know what came over me. I saw the spell coming at me, but I didn’t move at all. And I had to disrupt your training session because of it. I’m sorry.”

Beel visibly relaxed at your reassurance, his body no longer tensed up like before. “No, Pudding. Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault. I will stop everything to protect you,” he said, kissing your forehead.

Your mouth opened, cheeks warming as you tried to respond appropriately, but then, Beel blinked like he remembered something. He stepped away from you, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and turned to the recruits who had all stayed silent earlier.

“Who casted that spell?” Beel asked, a frigid aura surrounding him. You bet the recruits were in for a world of pain.

No one responded. The recruits remained in their positions, not daring to move.

Beel clicked his tongue. “Don’t make me repeat myself again. Who. Casted. That. Spell?”

When no one spoke, Beel didn’t bother again. He came back to your side and wrapped an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side as he reverted back to his human form.

“Colonel Alastor, increase the daily training by three. Send me a list of all recruits here today. I will be back at a later time to properly train them,” Beel said.

Colonel Alastor saluted. “Yes, general!”

Beel nodded and headed for the gate. You glanced at the recruits still frozen in place and Alastor who waved at you with a smile. You nudged Beel in the side.

“Are we leaving already?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said, taking his jacket from you. “Thanks for holding my jacket, Pudding. Let’s go get some food. I’m starving.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Are we resuming our date? After what had just happened?”

“They’re not important,” Beel said, and then he smiled at you, peppering kisses all over your face. “Let’s go back to our date.”

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, covering his mouth. “Let’s go.”

-------

Masterlist!

Ahh, I don't know if this is good enough :( but I hope you enjoy it!

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demonicheadcanons · 3 years

Note

Can I get the brothers reacting to finding MCs sketchbook and it’s filled with drawings of the demon who picked it up? All of them are masterpieces and some are angsty or sad, others happy, some just them doing mundane things. When confronted, MC just says “Of course I draw you all the time, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. You’re my muse.” Thank you in advance, if it’s too complicated you can skip.

AN: This cute prompt has been sitting in my inbox for far too long. Thanks for sending this in Nonny <3 I love this idea. I tried to keep each scenario short so I could get this done quickly, as you’ve waited long enough for it. Tried is the key word here ;u;

You’re maybe already dating the boys in these? Or very close? They’re not explicitly romantic but have some affection. I also didn’t make the MC say these exact words, or even anything at all in some of these prompts, but the general feeling is still there. I hope that’s alright!

Lucifer

You left the book behind when studying together, rushing off to meet up with Mammon after you realised you were late and would hear hell for it. He notices it sometime later, too busy relishing on even the short period of time he’d gotten to spend alone with you in relative peace.

He picks it up and, curious, with no worries that you might not really want him to look through it, he flips it open to the first page. He realises what it is right away, and continues to flip through the pages until he gets to a drawing of him. Its such a perfect represention of the moment that he can recall exactly when you must’ve drawn this.

You’d come into his room to have a break from all the noise in the rest of the house, and you had laid on your stomach on his bed and worked away at something as he went through paperwork at his desk. He’d wanted to ask you, at the time, what had you so focused, but he hadn’t wanted to ruin the sight.

He continues to flip through the pages, and frowns slightly for every drawing he sees of one of his brothers, but his lips twitch up every time there’s even a simple doodle of him. He counts, unconsciously, and realises you’ve drawn him more than anyone else. Pride swells in his chest, so very familiar and not at the same time.

He hears the tapping at his door and calls out, immediately, for you to come in. He knows that knock, after all, and you’re one of the few members of the house that he wouldn’t hear coming down the corridor. He leans against the front of his desk, holding your book open in front of him, not bothering to hide the fact that he’d looked through it.

The particular sketch he’s looking at is one where you must’ve been close - you’ve detailed in every long, delicate eyelash, his hair falling in front of his face and his lips slightly parted, only the faintest frown on his face as he focuses hard on his work. He smiles as he tips the book forward, watching as your eyes are drawn to it. To his surprise, you only smile, relieved, raising a hand to your chest.

“Thank goodness, I did leave it here after all.”

You walk over and hop up onto his desk, leaning towards him as you try to see which sketch he’s looking at. He slouches a little more to make you comfortable and shows the sketch.

“You’ve drawn me a lot,” he comments.

“Of course. You’re beautiful, how could I resist?”

He presses a kiss to your temple and rests his head against yours, smiling. He doesn’t often like people commenting on his appearance - he was confident enough about it, knew how he looked, but he didn’t need to hear about it all the time. Still, from you, it didn’t hurt. Especially not if you felt inspired enough by it to draw him.

[[Other brothers are under the read more]]

Mammon

Mammon had burst into your room and you weren’t there. Frustrated by your absence and unsure of when to expect you back, he decides to pick through your stuff. He wasn’t going to steal any of it - he’d been called out by Beel about that, before, and whilst he’d denied it at the time he knew it was true. He’d much rather steal something for you than from you.

The book is open on your desk to a page full of mindless doodles. It piques his curiosity, and he grabs it and sits down, kicking his feet up on top of your desk. It wasn’t like you were there to tell him not to, and you’d left without telling him where you were going so he was going to do whatever he wanted until you got back.

He flicks back to the start of the book, and honestly his first thoughts are about how you could easily sell these drawings for a lot of Grimm. Sketches of the Devildom, of flowers and creatures you couldn’t find in the human realm, of how the Devildom looked all lit up with the moon overhead, from the highest balcony in the RAD building. He’s in awe, mouth a faint ‘o’ shape as he continues to turn page by page.

The first drawing of him makes him freeze up. He was a model, Mammon knew he must be handsome. But he’d never felt it like he did now. In the drawing, he’s sitting on the floor, cushion in his lap as he plays some game on a controller. His expression is somewhere between frustrated and delighted, his hair fluffy and messy because he’d been running his hands through it.

He remembers - you’d been having trouble adapting to the Devildom so he stole- borrowed a console from Levi, but you were too tired to play. He played anyway, hoping that at least watching him would distract you enough, and to convince himself that he was in part doing it for him too and not to entertain some random human.

You walk in and he slams the book shut, but its too late - you’ve seen him holding it. You don’t seem mad about that, though, and instead glare at how he has his feet up on your desk. He adjusts quickly, fumbling as he tries to put on his confident act, walking over to you as he waves the sketchbook in the air.

“What’s this, then? You’ve been drawing me without asking me first?” he asks, teasing lilt falling flat in his voice. His face feels far too warm, as it often does when he’s around you.

“I couldn’t help it. You’re so pretty I just had to.” You shrug, nonchalant. You swipe the book from his hand and sit on your bed, tapping the space beside you. “How far in did you get?”

Mammon pouts as he goes to sit beside you. “Not far.” As he sits beside you, he grabs your sides and pulls you to lay down, holding the sketchbook open up in the air. He’s desperate for some attention right now, but he wanted to keep looking at your art. “Let’s look through the rest together.”

Leviathan

Levi was flustered. You’d been spending time in his room, and he loved your presence but it took him so long to get used to it each time that you stopped in to hang out with him. You’d brought the book you always had with you, and were working away on something, laying on your stomach on the floor with a Ruri-chan plushie in one arm.

He fumbles with his controller and sighs as he misses yet another jump in the game he was trying hard to distract himself with. Every time he glances over, he wants to ask what you’re doing, why you’re here with him when you could easily do your work elsewhere or with any of his brothers, if you were really happy to just sit in his presence like this. His voice dies in his throat and his face flushes when he catches sight of you, so he never does get to ask.

He’d messed up one too many times and was starting to get frustrated when he glanced over and realised you were looking at him, too. Heat floods into his face, and his frustrations die before he can even mumble out his signature ‘this is so unfair’. You smile, going back to your work before dropping your pencil. You wiggle around until you’re sitting, cross-legged, and hold out your sketchbook.

It was a drawing. You’d been drawing, and you’d been drawing him. Levi leans closer hesitantly, wanting to get a better look at it, trying not to think about how giddy and anxious your proud smile made him feel. He works up the courage to take the book out of your hands and looks over the drawing. It takes a long time before he can say anything, too busy focusing on all the little details - how his face is scrunched up from frustration and concentration, how his headphone cord is coiled around his fingers from when he’d been playing with it and hadn’t untangled it fully, how his head was tilted to stop his hair from fully falling in front of his eyes.

“You... its really good, but, I don’t... I’m not this handsome,” he mumbles, face bright red, and he flinches when you laugh.

“You are. More-so, actually, but its hard to capture from this distance.”

Levi can’t respond, just swallows. You sigh, something fond in it, and walk on your knees until you can fall against his side, cuddling up to the Ruri-chan plushie.

“Look through the other drawings. I only draw what I find beautiful. That’s why I drew you.”

His smile is faint, but its enough. He’s hearing your words, even if they’re hard to process for him. He relaxes and flips back to the front page, ready to look at the rest of your work with you.

Satan

Books were commonplace in his room. They were part of the furniture - quite literally, as they were piled up everywhere, even on top of his bed, although he’d made an effort to stop putting them there so long as you were spending time with him, so that you had somewhere comfortable to sit or lay whilst you were reading.

And yet, he always noticed when one was out of place, or when a new book had joined his collection without his knowing. Sometimes this happened because his brothers had found something interesting but weren’t willing to say aloud that it had reminded them of him, or that they bought it because he might enjoy it, so they’d simply popped into his room and added it to a stack. It was normal at this point.

That’s why he didn’t question it when there was a new book left on his bed, and when he didn’t hesitate to lay down and open it up, curious as to what story one of his brothers had left for him this time. Instead, he’s met with drawings. Amazing drawings of the Devildom, of his brothers... and of him.

There are notes, as well, few and far between, that allow him to place this as being your book. He knew that scrawl. He felt guilty to look through your sketchbook without your permission, but now that he’d already opened it, he was too curious to leave it be. He’d be honest about it later and deal with the consequences then, or joke about how you’d been drawing him without his permission so you were equal now.

The drawings were beautiful, more detailed that he’d seen for casual doodles left in a book without being shown to the subjects in them. He takes his time to look over each page carefully, each drawing filling his heart with something foreign, sweet and sticky like berry pie. He spends extra time focusing on each drawing of himself, wonders how and why you’d made him look so soft. It was hard for him to get portraits done as his presence could invoke anger in others and leave harsh and angry lines and brush strokes on the canvas, but clearly he didn’t have that same influence on you - instead, each drawing of him was more delicate than any of the others, like you’d put more effort in.

Satan returns it to you later, a smile on his face. He does apologise immediately, for looking at the drawings without your permission.

“Its alright. I’m just glad you found it for me.” You’re completely cheery, not bothered at all, and Satan sighs in relief.

“You’ve drawn me quite a lot,” he notes.

“Well obviously. I spend the most time with you,” you say, smiling when you catch the faint pout he covers up. That wasn’t what he had expected or wanted you to say, clearly. Nor was it all you had to say on the matter. “Also, you’re very beautiful. I wanted to try and capture that and keep a little for myself.”

He smiles now, content, and pats you on the head. “If you want me around, you only have to ask.”

Asmodeus

You’d been working away at something as he picked out an outfit and fixed his hair, and he’d been dying to ask but he just needed to adjust a few more strands first - you were going out to Majolish together and he wanted to look perfect. He always did, of course, but when the two of you were going out together he put in even more effort than usual.

When he finally finishes, he jumps up out of his chair and rushes over to you.

“How do I look?” he asks, beaming, full of confidence as always.

“Fabulous,” you say, reaching out to readjust a few strands of hair that had fallen out of place from his quick movements. He sits down on his bed beside you and pulls you up until you’re sitting beside him, hugging you around your waist.

“What were you doing whilst you were waiting? You looked so focused, it was adorable~” Asmo chirps, looking pointedly at the sketchbook. His eyes widen in genuine surprise. “Wait, is that me?”

You nod, lifting your sketchbook up so that the two of you could see it properly. You’d been drawing him, just little sketches as he flitted about the room doing this and that to get ready. You couldn’t have spent long on each one, and yet they captured him perfectly. He looked elegant in each, determined and beautiful.

You flicked back to the previous page before he could comment, and Asmo’s breath caught in his throat. This drawing was him, it was so brilliant an example of everything that he was. He was looking at you and smiling, and you’d captured the love and admiration in his eyes so perfectly he wondered if this was somehow a photograph.

Asmo tears up and hugs you tighter, burying his face against your neck. You can feel him smile wide against your skin. He stays like that for only a moment before his excitement bubbles up to the surface and he litters your cheek, nose, and forehead with feather-light kisses. He’d do anything for the one who saw him as he was.

Beelzebub

Beel had a pretty normal schedule for each day - he’d exercise, go to school, spend time with you and Belphie or his other brothers if they were around and alright with it, and of course, he’d eat quite a lot. You had a good idea of where he’d be throughout the day, and when you had the time for it, you’d accompany him so he wasn’t alone. Whether that meant sitting on the counter as he dug through the fridge, or laying on the sofa with your head in his lap and your feet in Belphie’s, you just liked to spend time with him.

And, a lot of the time, he noticed you had this little book with you. He’d caught you glancing at him many times, but didn’t think anything of it. He glanced at you a lot, too, so maybe it was only to be expected. He’d gotten used to the butterflies in his stomach when you two randomly linked eyes and you grinned, twirling your pencil around in your hand.

A lot of your time was spent together in relative silence, as well, and he was accustomed to hearing your pencil scratch against the paper. But he never asked what you were doing, because if you wanted to tell him you would. He trusted you to do that. And his trust paid off, when you were both watching a show together.

He notices early on that you're paying more attention to him than the screen, and when the episode finishes you tap him gently on the shoulder before stretching out your wrists. He looks to you, tilting his head in curiosity until you hold the book open in front of him.

It was a drawing of him, focused on the screen, odd lighting casting shadows against his form. He had something in his hand, some sort of food, but you’d put more attention into actually drawing him. So much attention that he was sure no matter how long he looked, there would always be something more to notice.

“Its me?” he asks, unsure lilt in his voice. He looks bashful, like he’s done something wrong. “Why?”

You stretch out your arms again, thinking, and finally answer, “Because you looked beautiful, and I wanted to draw you?”

It was neither easy nor hard to make Beel blush, and most of the time it just seemed to happen. You hadn’t caught onto the pattern yet, hadn’t been able to perfect it so that you could make it happen whenever you wanted. But you smile in silent victory now as his ears and cheeks flush a reddish pink, pairing nicely with his wide eyes.

His surprise gives way to a smile, and he leans over to wrap his arms around you, holding you close. All he can manage is a thank you, but with that you know how much he appreciates it, how much he appreciates you.

Belphegor

Belphie would often drag you off to the attic, and whilst he enjoyed the times where you would curl up in his arms and nap with him until you absolutely had to get up, he knew he couldn’t expect that of you constantly. You were still human, and you could only sleep so much before you had to get up to stretch or eat or just do something else to occupy your mind.

You’d built up a habit together, now, where if you wanted to get up you’d tap his arm twice and he’d reluctantly let you go. He’d stay awake if you left the room, just enough so that he’d be able to tell when you returned. If you didn’t, he’d have to go seek you out again by himself to drag you back with him and absolutely not just to make sure you were okay. If you did return, he’d go back to sleep and let you do what you wanted, opening his arms up if you tapped on them again to crawl back into his grip. It was peaceful, and though he never said it aloud, he loved it.

Often times, when he did wake up, you’d be sitting nearby in a little bundle of pillows and blankets that you’d made with a book and pencil in hand. You were quick to notice when he woke up, so Belphie could never just watch you to figure out what you were doing, which frustrated him to no end but at the same time it was nice to be known. Still, he was determined to figure it out.

His determination is unnecessary, because one day he wakes up and you’re looking straight at him, smiling contentedly. He woke up too fast, then, heart pounding as he tried to remember that expression. Did you admire him so much to look at him like that, even when he was just sleeping?

“You’re awake,” you say, voice light and cheery.

“And you were watching me sleep, as always,” Belphie scoffs, pulling the blanket up over his face to cover up his blush. “What’s new?”

You pout and stick out your tongue at him, and he lowers the blanket enough to return the gesture. It was hard to remember just how old he was when he acted like that.

“With good reason,” you tell him. He raises an eyebrow, and you smile and hold out your sketchbook. He takes it immediately, trying to act nonchalant as he opens it up and flicks through the pages. You barely catch how his eyes widen, how his breath catches and he slows down, taking in each drawing carefully.

“There are... a lot of drawings, of me sleeping,” Belphie says, swallowing, raising the book enough to try to cover his smile. Too late, you think. You’d caught him.

“You look cute like that. Plus, its the only time you sit still enough for me to draw you.”

“Or you’re just that obsessed with me. Weirdo.” He closes the book and hands it back to you, sitting up to stretch. He keeps his eyes on you, notices when you frown the tiniest bit. Was his teasing too much?

He sighs and slides out of bed, sitting in your pile beside you. He leans against you, like a cat looking for attention without wanting to admit it, and takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers.

“Thanks, MC.”

#surprise request! i felt like writing and it just all kind of flowed out with this one #Anonymous #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #my headcanons #my writings #fluff #i had a lot of fun writing this ashdashj even tho i only did bc i couldnt sleep ;u;

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theoreticslut · 3 years

Text

Sleepy Love Letters // f.w.

fred weasley x reader

requested: yes

word count: 2.5k

warnings: none, fluff

A/N: oh good lord. I am literally so behind on requests of all kinds. I guess i’ve just really needed a break. I am (obviously) writing again, but I am taking it much slower than I had been and it’s truly just because I get burnt out and tired so much faster lately. This fic is from my 1.1k sleepover (i believe) which was back in feb, but I still have stuff from my end of the year party from late dec / early jan. Basically, at this point I’m working through things as I get the time and motivation for it. It’ll all just be mixed in. If you’re waiting for a fic, headcanon, blurb, letter, etc. just keep your eyes out for it on my blog OR you can always check the events and their respective tags under my navigation to find it. I am either working on it or getting my way to it. I promise. Thank you, seriously, to every single one of you that have sent requests in for misc. events or when I had my requests open - it means the WORLD to me and I am going to get to it. I just need the time. Anyways, that’s enough of my heartfelt blubbering. I hope you guys like this fic! Xx

A/N 2: I’ve had this saved in my drafts for weeks now and I’ve been dying to post it. I’m not really sure why I haven’t yet, but here it is!! I hope you like it just as much as I do!

“Y/n, how do you think you did?!” Fred asks as he catches up with you walking out of the great hall after your charms exam.

“Good. Didn’t think it was too hard at least.” You reply, stifling a yawn.

Fred notices and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. The two of you have been friends for years and he knows you're exhausted even if you won’t admit it.

You’ve always spent hours upon hours studying for a test, often opting to stay up real late at night. He can’t even count how many times he and George have come back from detention or setting up a prank to find you passed out at one of the tables in the common room.

It only got worse when it was a final. Fred had found you not only passed out in the common room with a book open in front of you or on your lap, but he’d see you with a book shoved in your face as you ate or anytime you had some free time. He’d watch as you almost obsessively run through flash cards.

He adored how dedicated you were to getting good grades, but he often worried about what you were doing to yourself staying up way past the point of exhaustion or eating the bare minimum as you were too focused on the book in front of you. You weren’t taking care of yourself the way you should and it bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

“I’m sure you did more than just good, sweetheart. You excited that it was the last one?”

“Thrilled. I can’t wait to be able to spend the summer going to the lake and camping. You and George have any plans?”

“Not many as of yet. I’m sure George is going to try to find any excuse to see Angelina.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement with the redhead. The two of you have only watched George and Angie dance the line between friends and dating for a year and a half now. They were closer than ever to being together, they just wouldn’t quite admit it to each other.

Walking into the common room you were glad to find it quiet. You’d hate to admit it out loud, but all you really wanted to do is go lay down and maybe sleep for a bit.

“Come hang out in my room?” Fred asked, nodding towards the stairs for the boys’ dorms.

He watches as a tired smile fills your face before you give him a small nod.

“Yeah, alright. You have any products you need testing?”

He chuckles, a loving smile on his face in response to your question. Even though you’re dragging your feet and look about ready to pass out, you’re still asking about him and his passion.

“Not today. Maybe later next week though. I just like your company.”

“I like yours, Fred.” You giggle, following him up the stairs.

“Well obviously, princess. Who doesn’t love having me in their company?” He chuckles, opening the door to his dorm.

“Good Godric,” you roll your eyes. “I think you need to check that ego of yours.”

“You love my big ego though, yeah?”

You shake your head as a smile finds its place on your face. You can’t help but let out a yawn as you take a seat on his bed while he sits down at the desk, watching you get comfortable.

“It definitely makes you interesting, Freddie.”

He smiles, watching as you stretch out, slowly making yourself more comfortable.

“You alright, y/n?” He asks as you let out a soft groan as you curl up in your side.

“Yeah. I’m just really tired, Freddie. Haven’t slept much lately.” You mumble, eyes already closed lightly.

“I’m sure, princess. You just rest for a bit. I’ll make sure you’re up in time for dinner.”

“Thank you.”

He smiles, watching as you tuck one of his pillows under your head. He’s always found you adorable when you’re sleepy. The few times he’s caught you napping in ginny’s room at the burrow, or on the couch down in the common room while your friends all talk, he’s felt his heart melt.

Not wanting to be creepy, though, he turns his attention to a joke product he’s been working on, listening to the gentle breathes leaving your body as you fall asleep.

~.~

You’ve been asleep for about a half hour now and Fred can’t help but admire you. Every time a little groan leaves your lips as you adjust your position, he can’t stop a smile from growing on his lips.

That’s not even mentioning how adorable you look curled up on his bed. Your laying on your stomach, with one leg stretched out while the other is pulled up to your side as you hug a pillow under your head and towards your chest. Your hair is sprawled out over his blankets, afternoon light reflecting of the silky strands.

He watches as your torso slowly rises and falls with your steady breathes and your eyelids flutter with your dreams. He watches as you ever so gently situate yourself from time to time.

He is so enamored with you at the moment he can’t help but want to share his feelings with the world. He’s loved you for a few years now, but he’s never dared let on he does in case you didn’t feel the same. He can’t fathom losing you as a friend, so he never wanted to share something that might make the relationship awkward.

He’s never even told George how he feels about you. When he realized just how deeply he felt for you, he promised himself that he’d keep it quiet. For all you and George knew, Fred only thought of you as a good friend and nothing more. Sure you both knew that he cared for you and would do anything you ever asked him to, but you would never guess that Fred wanted to be able to call you his - that he wanted to be able to hold you and kiss you and shout to the world that he’s dating you.

Fred sighs happily as you continue sleeping, feeling his heart swell with love. Godric how you made him feel.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he’s written a few words.

Y/n, sweetheart -

Godric, I love you.

He feels the air get sucked out of his lungs as he reads over what he wrote. He couldn’t possibly have written that right?

Looking over at you cautiously to find you still fast asleep he sighs. He checks the time finding that dinner is still over an hour away. Maybe writing out his feelings wouldn’t be so bad? It’s not like anyone would be seeing them right?

~.~

You giggle as you shut the door on your two best friends as they stumble over each other up the stairs.

As soon as you three stepped off the train, Fred was asking you to come over for a few days, not wanting to part ways quite yet. Writing out his feelings did the exact opposite of what he was hoping. Instead of feeling relieved and getting them out of the forefront of his mind, writing out his love for you had only made him crazier for you.

It was insane how much he felt for you and he couldn’t imagine having you disappear on him so quickly. Hence why he asked you over and you’ve been at the burrow for about three days now.

It’s been amazing spending time with your two best friends without the stress or schedule of classes and tests.

Currently you were trying to escape their wrath for a harmless prank you pulled on them this morning which may have resulted in them both getting drenched in water.

“Y/n, sweetheart, can you let us in our room please? We really would like to change out of these wet clothes.” Fred asks sweetly, attempting to get you to show yourself to them.

“Not yet. You’re going to attack me soon as I do.”

“We won’t. Swear we won’t, right george?”

“Right, Fred. Just let us in.”

“I don’t trust you two.” You admit, trying to catch your breath as you back away from the locked door.

“Why not? We’ve never given you a reason not too.”

“You’re joking right? Must I remind you about your birthday?” You deadpan, taking a seat at their desk in an attempt to protect yourself. If they tried to attack you, you at least had an arsenal of pens and pencils.

“Alright, fair enough. We promise no tricks. Just unlock the door.”

“I really don’t want to. At least I’m safe right now.”

You hear a mix of chuckles and a groan as you curiously look over the contents of the desktop. You frown when you spot a folded piece of paper with your name on it.

Why would they have a paper addressed to you? And what would even be in it? It’s not like anyone has anything important enough to put in a letter for you. If they have something to say they just talk to you.

Without questioning it, you pick up the paper and start reading it.

Y/n, sweetheart -

Godric, I love you. I’ve loved you for ages now but I’ve been far too worried about ruining our friendship to tell you. The only reason I’m writing these words now is because I know no one but me will ever see this.

“Y/n? What’re you doing?” Fred questions through the door when you get too quiet.

I can’t imagine a life without you, y/n. You’ve been the best part of mine since I met you on the train in our first year. The way you’re so unbelievably kind and fun to be around is just one of the many things I adore about you. I could write you a list, but it’d get to be quite long.

Merlin, I wish I could tell you how I feel. I want to scream it to the world I swear. I want to be able to hold you, and kiss you, whenever and wherever. I want to go on hogsmeade trips with you and buy you a butterbeer and be one of those couple’s you’re always fawning over. I want to get you gifts just because I want to see you smile.

You can hear the door click as one of them unlocks it, but you pay no attention to it.

I want to be the one you talk to about anything and everything. I want to be the one to comfort you. I want to be the one to make you smile. I want to fall asleep and wake up beside you each day. I just want you. I’ve wanted you since the middle of second year, but I’m sure you don’t feel the same. I just needed to get this all off my chest.

I love you and I hope you can tell even though we’re friends. I love you, y/n. So much.

“Shit, princess. Y-you weren’t supposed to read that.” Fred sighs from behind you.

You jump slightly at his proximity, not expecting him to be right behind you.

You look up at him as he paces across the room, looking over to George before back at Fred. You frown as you watch him tug at his hair.

“Freddie?”

“Hmm?” He acknowledges, still pacing.

“Will you please look at me?”

“What’s even got you like this? What could you have written that’s so bad?” George questions, walking to the desk as you walk over to Fred.

You watch as Fred chews on his lip as you stand in front of him. You see the anxiousness in his eyes and you’ve never once been more reminded of a scared puppy as much as you are now. Fred looks absolutely terrified, only further proven by how he’s shaking slightly.

“Fred, do you really feel that way? Do you love me?”

“I, uhm, yeah...I-I do.”

You smile, pushing back some of his hair that’s stuck to his forehead from being drenched as you wrap your arms around his neck in a hug.

“You should have told me ages ago. I’ve loved you since second year, too, you goof.” You giggle, kissing his cheek before burying your face in his neck.

“What?”

You pull back to look at him, finding him sporting a look of utter confusion as he stares at you, mouth open.

“What?” You chuckle, cocking a brow at him as you smile lightly.

“Y-you like me too? Like you actually like me? More than as a friend?”

You hear George chuckle to the side of you, drawing both of your guys’ attention.

“Godric, Fred. Never would have pegged you as a sap.” He snorts.

“Be nice, George. Believe it or not, it’s actually really sweet. Write a love letter to Angie and see how quickly she swoons.”

Fred chuckles at your repose while George scoffs, although there’s no hiding the blush that spreads across his cheeks.

You watch as George grabs some dry clothes before leaving the two of you to yourselves.

“So you actually like me too?”

“Of course I do, Freddie. Haven’t you ever noticed how much the girls would tease me when you were around? They were teasing me about you.”

“Bloody hell. They’ve done that for years! I thought it was just how they were.”

“I mean, it is, but they tend to get a bit more obnoxious about it when you’re around.”

“So you really like me too?”

“Yes, Freddie. I like you too. I just need to ask, when did you write that?”

He chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck as he gives you a half smile.

“After our charms final....you took a nap in our dorm, remember?”

“Mhm. Your bed was really comfy.” You giggle, a blush rising to Fred’s cheeks.

“You looked really cute sleeping in my bed and I, well, I may have gotten a little overwhelmed with emotions.”

You smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Godric you’re adorable, Fred.”

“Not as adorable as you, princess.”

“I beg to differ.” You giggle, smiling as he brings you into another kiss, tightly wrapping his arms around your waist.

When you pull away you press your foreheads together, smiling.

“So, do you think you could write that list about the things you adore about me?”

He can’t help the chuckle that leaves his chest as you smile adoringly at him.

“I’ll get right on it, love. Right after I change out of these clothes since someone decided it’d be fun to prank the pranksters this morning.”

You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his jaw before you leave him to let him change clothes.

“I’m glad I found your letter, Fred.”

“I am too, y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too, Freddie.” You smile as you close his bedroom door. Who would have guessed that Fred Weasley would declare his feelings for you in a love letter? One things for sure though, you’re saving that paper and cherishing it the rest of your life.

———————————————————————

Taglist:

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#harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #theweasleyslut's 1.1k sleepover

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btsqualityy · 3 years

Text

Magnolias In Springtime: Part Two

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Arranged marriage!AU, ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, fluff, and smut

Warnings: Mentions of infertility, mentions of miscarriages, unprotected sex, dirty talk, impregnation sex, impregnation kink, oral (both Namjoon and reader receiving), penetrative sex, squirting, knotting and creampie.

Author’s Note: You guys know that I always post something on my birthday so here it is! This is the second and final part to Magnolias in Springtime! If you haven’t read part 1, you can find it here! Truthfully, this second part was just an excuse for me to write Namjoon impregnation smut lol But I hope you guys enjoy it!

It’s crazy how much things could change and yet stay the same in the span of a year.

You still loved your home pack, going back to see the Alphas, Betas, and Omegas that helped shaped you into the person you were today at least once a month. You were still spoiled by your parents, who made it their personal mission to shower you with gifts whenever they had the opportunity to see their only child. Most of all, you still used the skills that you had learned in your childhood pack as you prepared to become leader of your new pack with your husband.

Speaking of your husband, Namjoon was the best and most enjoyable change in your life as you had spent the past year falling in love with him.

Admittedly, adjusting to being in a marriage and to a man that you did not know or choose beforehand was hard, but you quickly found out that Namjoon was one of the most amazing people that you had ever met in your life. He was strong, dependable, and trustworthy just like a typical Alpha but you were delighted to find that he was also big on communication and making sure that you felt comfortable enough to talk to him, he was caring, and even sensitive in certain situations. He had quickly become your best friend and you found yourself falling for him not long after the wedding was over.

“Y/N?” Eun Kyung called out and you shook your head as you broke out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized sheepishly as you turned to look at your mother in law. “Can you repeat what you said? I wasn’t listening.”

“I see that,” she smiled knowingly. “A lot on your mind?”

“Kind of,” you shrugged as you fiddled with the handle of the tea cup that was in front of you.

“Well, that’s understandable sweetie,” she assured you. “We’ve all been so busy getting ready for the Coronation, it’s no wonder that your thoughts are all over the place.”

In the year since you and Namjoon had gotten married, Namjoon’s father Ho-jin had begun to slowly pass over the responsibilities of being Pack Alpha over to Namjoon. Two months ago, he had announced his official retirement and Namjoon would be having a Coronation to celebrate a new era of power. Of course, you would be celebrated as well given the fact that you would be replacing Eun Kyung as Pack Omega.

“Anything you want to discuss?” Eun Kyung wondered.

“You don’t mind?”

“Y/N-ah, that’s what we started these weekly tea dates for, remember?” She pointed out with a giggle and you smiled as you thought back on how your mother in law had insisted that you two meet every Tuesday aftermoon in order to talk and spend time together. At first, you were weary of it but it’s quickly become one of the highlights of your week, every week.

“I guess I’m just nervous about becoming Pack Omega,” you confessed. “I mean, I’m not from this pack and even though it seems like everyone likes me well enough, that might change once Namjoon’s officially Pack Alpha.”

“You remember how I told you about how my marriage to Ho-jin was arranged and how I replaced his mother when the time came?” Eun Kyung asked and you nodded your head. “I had the exact same fears as you do now and my mother in law, may she rest with the ancestors, gave me an amazing piece of advice that I have used continuously over the past 30 years. Wanna know what it is?”

“Yeah.”

“Your only duty as Pack Omega is to support your Alpha,” Eun Kyung began. “Whether that means reassuring him that he’s making a right decision, comforting him when he’s stressed and upset or even cussing him out when he’s dead wrong. The job of a Pack Leader is a stressful one and they must know that even if it feels like the world is on their shoulders, they will always have one person in their corner and that’s us.”

“That’s it?” You giggled and Eun Kyung nodded with a smile, pausing to take a sip of her tea before continuing.

“It seems intuitive right, because we’re Omegas ourselves but being the spouse of a Pack Leader means that we always have to shoulder a little bit more, whether it be more pain, more sadness, more hope,” she explained. “But I guarantee you, making sure that Namjoon is taken care will be the greatest thing that you can do for the pack.”

“I believe you,” you said. “I just know that Namjoon isn’t gonna make it easy for me. You know how he is about work and making sure the pack’s taken care of.”

“Don’t worry, Ho-jin already said that he plans to talk to him about finding a healthy balance,” Eun Kyung told you.

“Good,” you smiled as you brought your tea cup to your mouth, taking a long sip from it.

“Speaking of that though, there was actually something that I wanted to talk to you about,” she said and you lowered your cup from your lips.

“Go ahead,” you encouraged her before taking another sip.

“Are you and Namjoon....uh....fulfilling your....marital duties?” She wondered and you choked on your tea, immediately setting your cup down as you coughed harshly. Eun Kyung reached over and gave you several strong pats on the back, which helped you regulate your breathing again.

“Uh, why do you ask?” You chuckled nervously.

“Well, with the coronation coming up, there’s been talk about the fact that you aren’t pregnant yet,” Eun Kyung elaborated and your eyes widened in realization. “Some people are beginning to become concerned.”

“And you’re one of them?” You shot back.

“Yes, but not in the way that you’re thinking,” she laughed. “I’m worried about you as a person and not about your ability to conceive.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what it’s like to have your worth evaluated only in terms of how many kids you can pop out,” she smiled sadly and as her words registered with you, your jaw dropped as you put the pieces together.

“Eun Kyung, you?”

“I struggled with infertility, yes,” she confirmed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you whispered as you reached out, setting one of your hands on top of hers. She turned her hand around and intertwined your fingers with hers.

“Oh, I’m ok sweetie,” she swore. “After Ho-jin and I got married, we had miscarriage after miscarriage and it took six years before I got pregnant with Namjoon and he became our miracle baby. I’m telling you all this because I known how isolating that struggle can be and if that’s the case for you, I wanted you to know that you’re not alone.”

“I appreciate it Eun Kyung, but I don’t think that’s the case for Namjoon and I,” you muttered. “We’re just taking things slow and not rushing it. I mean, we’ve only been married for a year and we have years to have babies.”

“Alright sweetheart, alright,” Eun Kyung laughed. “I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you and if that’s how you and Namjoon feel, then I’ll get everyone else off your back.”

“Thank you,” you smiled gratefully and she tightened the grip that she had on your hand reassuringly.

“No problem. Now, onto more important business,” she grinned. “Finding you a dress to wear for the coronation.” You nodded your head immediately, grateful that she changed the direction of the conversation because you had no idea how to tell her that you and Namjoon had only had sex a handful of times in the last year.

.............................................

After finally leaving Ho-jin and Eun Kyung’s house a few hours later, you went home and made dinner. As usual, Namjoon came home around 6 and the two of you sat down in your dining room together, eating and talking about how your days went.

Everything was going very normally until Namjoon called out to you as you both worked on cleaning up the kitchen.

“Y/N-ah?” He said.

“Hmm?”

“Did my mom say something to you today about a baby?” He wondered and you turned to look over at him, watching as he continued to wash the dishes as if he hadn’t just asked you what he did.

“How did you know?” You asked.

“My father said something about it to me today after our meeting,” Namjoon sighed and you walked over to him, leaning against the counter so that you could look at him.

“She did too, and she told me about her infertility,” you told him. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because it’s super personal to her and I didn’t know if she would be comfortable with me telling you,” he explained. “But why do you think I wanted 5 pups initially?”

“I get it now,” you giggled. “What did your dad say when he brought it up?”

“It was definitely less diplomatic than my mom,” he chuckled as he finished rinsing off the dishes and began drying off his hands. “He went on and on about how our family legacy needs to continue on and if we’re able, we need to have at least a few kids.”

“Hmm,” you murmured and Namjoon looked at you skeptically, raising his eyebrow.

“What’s that mean?” He laughed.

“Nothing,” you shrugged as you looked down at your feet but he didn’t buy that, throwing the towel that he was holding onto the counter and moving closer to you.

“Hey, talk to me,” he pleaded and you sighed heavily before squaring your shoulders and looking up at him again.

“Why don’t you ever try to have sex with me?” You demanded to know. “I mean, besides our wedding night, we’ve only had sex during my two heats and your rut, and I’m guessing that you didn't tell your father that.”

“No, I didn’t tell him that,” Namjoon huffed with a smile. “And the reason that I haven’t been trying is because I don’t want to push you. Even though we both agreed to this marriage, it still never leaves my mind that you didn’t really choose this. I don’t want to force you into yet another life changing decision, because pups are forever.”

“Hey, I wasn’t forced into anything,” you gently corrected him. “Yeah, I had to make a choice to save my pack but I did that because I wanted to. Plus, you didn’t necessarily choose this either.”

“I know but still,” he muttered. “I just didn’t want you to think that you were obligated to have sex with me, let alone have my pups. And as for the heat and rut thing, it was easier because you asked for me during your heat and during my rut, I could blame it on my hormones.”

“You sure that it’s not because you’re not attracted to me?” You joked lamely and Namjoon smacked his lips together as he set his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

“Baby, you’re the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he told you seriously. “I think the world of you, and you know that.”

“It’s kind of hard to remember,” you admitted.

“I should have explained to you my reasoning and for that, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “But don’t you ever think for one second that I don’t want you. I think about you all the time, my Alpha gets nervous anytime that I’m away from you for too long and hell, my cock gets hard as soon as you look at me with these eyes.”

“Namjoon,” you whined through giggles, which made him smile as he looked at you fondly.

“If you’re comfortable with it, I’d have sex with you whenever you wanted,” he said.

“I’m comfortable with it,” you assured him. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“But what about pups?” You whispered, your lips moving against his as you spoke.

“Baby, I’d love to see you pregnant with my pups,” he told you. “If it were up to just me, you’d always be pregnant. All you have to do is say the word.”

“I want your pups Alpha,” you murmured as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Please.” Without another word, Namjoon bent down and scooped you up into his arms, making you squeal and cling onto him as he carried you bridal style out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“I could’ve walked!” You exclaimed while giggling.

“This is more romantic,” he winked at you. After making it up the stairs, he walked down the hallway to your bedroom, using one hand to open the door before stepping inside. He walked over to the bed, laying you down gently before crawling on top of you and kissing you passionately.

You moaned into his mouth, your legs coming up to wrap themselves around his waist as you pulled him closer to you. He moved away from your lips eventually, his mouth trailing downwards and sucking on the mating mark that he had given you on your wedding night.

“You’re perfect baby,” he mumbled against your skin and you could barely reply because he had begun to grind against you. The thin layer of your leggings did little to inhibit the feeling, and you felt yourself whining as you became more turned on.

“W-wanna suck you off,” you whispered shyly and he pulled his face out of your neck, looking down at you with a smile.

“Alright,” he nodded before climbing off of you, settling himself next to you on the bed. You sat up then, reaching down and pulling off your t-shirt before letting Namjoon help you unclip your bra. Even though the two of you hadn’t had sex as often as you hoped, you had sex often enough to know that your husband was definitely a breast man and he loved to see them while you gave him a blow job.

You moved down the bed and settled yourself on your stomach in between his legs, pulling down the shorts he had on and his boxers just enough so that his cock fell out, taking ahold of it in both of your hands. He was almost fully hard and you didn’t waste any time taking him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Fuck,” Namjoon groaned deeply and hearing your Alpha feel good only spurred you on. You then took him as deep into your mouth as you could, making him moan from how good your throat felt around his cock. Once you deemed him wet enough, you began to bob your head up and down, using your hands to stroke the parts of his shaft that you couldn’t reach with your mouth.

“Good girl baby,” he praised you. “So good to my cock.” You could feel yourself getting wet but you were too focused on doing your best to make your husband feel good. As you continued to suck him off for a few minutes, you could feel his cock beginning to throb lightly and you knew that meant that he was close to coming. Just as that thought registered in your mind though, Namjoon reached down and pulled himself out of your mouth.

“What’s wrong?” You wondered.

“You're sucking me off a little too well baby,” he chuckled. “I was about to come embarrassingly fast.”

“That’s ok,” you shrugged.

“Not if you want my pups inside of you instead of in your mouth,” he smirked, making you blush at his words. “Here, switch places with me.” You sat up and shuffled on your knees up the bed, turning yourself around before laying down on your back. Namjoon then sat up and grabbed ahold of the waist band of your leggings, pulling them down along with your panties. You let your legs fall out and Namjoon licked his lips once he set his eyes on your bare pussy.

“I knew it,” he grumbled, reaching out and letting his middle finger ghost over your clit. “I could tell you were getting wet baby, I could smell your scent from your pussy.” Without giving you the chance to reply, he dove forward and sucked your clit into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching up off of the bed as he suckled on your clit.

“Damn it,” you whimpered, lifting your head and watching him as he began to leave wide licks up your slit.

“Let’s see how you do with a finger,” Namjoon muttered, pausing the actions of his tongue in order to slide his middle finger inside of you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, letting your had fall back against the bed.

“You’re so tight baby, you’re just swallowing my finger,” Namjoon groaned. You felt movement on the bed and when you opened your eyes, you were surprised to see that Namjoon was now laying next to you on the bed, looking down at you as he pushed a second finger in alongside his

“You want Alpha to make you come like this?” He wondered aloud as he began to thrust his finger in and out of you. “Wanna come on my fingers?”

“Please,” you nodded and he smiled as he began to fuck you faster. Namjoon’s fingers were long and slender, meaning that he as able to reach the deepest parts of you without it being too overwhelming to you.

“Ha, ha,” you moaned in time with his thrusts.

“You’re dripping baby,” he told you but you didn’t even hear him because you could feel your orgasm winding to it’s end in your core.

“I’m gonna come,” you announced and nothing could’ve prepared you for Namjoon pulling his fingers out of you. You whipped your head to look over at him, tears beginning to well up in your eyes as you felt your orgasm slowly but surely slipping away.

“Why?” You pouted and Namjoon cooed at you before leaning over and kissing you firmly for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Alpha wants his Omega to come on his cock while I come inside of you, ok?” He told you and you sighed reluctantly before nodding your head.

Namjoon pushed his shorts and underwear all the way off his legs before reaching up and pulling his t-shirt off as well. He then sat up and moved to settle in between your legs, taking ahold of the base of his cock and tapping the head of it on your clit.

“If you want me to c-come on your cock, d-don’t tease me,” you whined and he just chuckled fondly.

“Ok, I’m sorry baby,” he whispered, guiding his cock into you slowly. You felt like you were going to choke on air as he stretched you out, since you had basically forgotten how long and thick he was.

“Oh, just like that baby,” Namjoon mumbled as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you. “You’re opening up so good for me.”

“A-Alpha,” you whimpered, clutching onto his forearms as he began to fuck you faster. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“What does?” Namjoon goaded you. “Tell your Alpha baby.”

“Your cock feels good inside me,” you moaned. “Feel so full.”

“God, I can’t believe that I was keeping myself from feeling your tight little pussy every day,” he grumbled. “I’m sorry baby.”

“It’s o-ok,” you stammered back, the beginnings of your orgasm starting to reappear.

“I’m gonna fuck you everyday from here on out if you let me,” he swore, looking down at you with hooded eyes. “Would you want that? Want Alpha to always keep you full with his knot?”

“Please, please, please,” you chanted.

“Want Alpha to fuck a baby into you?”

“Give it to me,” you moaned loudly and Namjoon reached up, sliding two of his fingers into your open mouth. You didn’t even hesitate to start sucking on them, making your husband groan as your tongue slid around the digits.

“Gonna make you come,” he said as he pulled his fingers away from your mouth, reaching down and setting them on your clit. Your mouth dropped open as he began to rub firm circles on the nub and you were almost embarrassed by how fast the stimulation sped up the pace at which your orgasm was running towards you.

“Holy fuck, don’t stop,” you pleaded. “I’m gonna come.”

“Go ahead baby, I won’t stop you,” he promised as he continued to fuck you and rub your clit. Sure enough, your orgasm slammed into you a few seconds later. The moan that fell out of your mouth was almost deafeningly loud and you were sure that Namjoon would have indents on his arm from where you were gripping onto his skin as your back arched up off of the bed.

“Fuck, you’re squirting baby,” he groaned as he took his hand off of your clit and placed his hands on the bed next to your head, fucking into you even harder now.

“T-too much,” you murmured as you set your hands against his chest.

“You love it though. You’re still coming for me,” he smirked and you couldn’t help but to blush because you could still feel yourself leaking onto his cock.

“I do,” you admitted and he leaned down, pressing a firm kiss to your lips.

“You’re so perfect for me,” he grumbled and you could feel the beginnings of his knot starting to swell. “Squirting for me and marking your Alpha. God, it makes me want to stuff my knot into you and fill you up with my pups.”

“Do it,” you encouraged him. “Give me a baby Joon.”

“I love you,” he grunted and you gave him a small smile.

“I love you too,” you replied, moaning lightly when he kissed you again. As the two of you made out, Namjoon pushed his knot inside of you and you felt his cum start to pour into you. He continued to give you light strokes, making sure to fuck his cum even deeper inside of you than it already was.

“Making sure that it takes huh?” You giggled and he just blushed as he pulled back to look at you.

“Gotta make it worth it,” he pointed out. “Besides, even if you don’t get pregnant this time, we can always try again and again and again.”

“As long as you make me come like that again,” you nodded in agreement.

“Oh, I definitely wanna see that again,” he smirked. “Maybe I should deny you your orgasm more often.”

“I’ll murder you,” you stated firmly, making him laugh loudly.

“I’m joking baby,” he said, leaning down and kissing your mating mark. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered.

.............................................

A few weeks later, the day of Namjoon’s coronation had finally come. The entire pack was gathered outside near the wall of magnolias that you and Namjoon had gotten married near, waiting for the ceremony to take place.

The two of you were in your shared bedroom, where you were helping him get dressed into his traditional hanbok.

“Are you ok?” You asked him while you fastened the buttons on his chest.

“Yeah, of course,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re trembling,” you giggled and he just sighed heavily.

“I’m terrified,” he admitted. “I’ve been looking forward to being Pack Leader my entire life but what if I’m not good at it? My dad and grandfather were amazing Pack Alphas and what if I can’t measure up?”

“Joon,” you tsked as you reached up and set your hands on his cheeks, making him look you in the eyes. “You can’t compare yourself to anyone else. You are going to be an amazing leader because you’re thoughtful, caring, and selfless.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” you smiled. “Just like I know that you’ll be an amazing daddy.”

“A daddy?” He repeated confusedly and you nodded your head. It took him a few minutes but when he put the pieces together, his eyes widened. “Baby, are you pregnant?”

“I am,” you nodded, squealing in surprise when Namjoon wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, spinning you around in a circle. “Wait, you’re gonna make me nauseous!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he laughed as he set you back down on the ground. “I just can’t believe it.”

“You’re happy, right?”

“Of course I am,” he sighed contentedly. “I’m so happy that our parents arranged our marriage.”

“Ditto,” you cooed, leaning forward and kissing him gently for a few seconds before pulling away. “Now, we have to go. You have to go and claim your rightful position.”

“We have to claim our rightful position,” he corrected you as he reached down and intertwined your fingers with his. After taking one last look at him to make sure that he looked good, the two of you walked downstairs and out of your house, ready to step into your new roles and the new phase of your lives.

#bts #bangtanarmynet #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts namjoon #bts rm #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #rm smut #rm angst #rm fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts abo

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Wounded Love Pt. 2 (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T? Maybe? Almost the exact opposite of the first one. Language, minor violence Genre: Fluff, mainly, with admittedly a little bit of humor? I blame my lack of sleep. And my adhd. Warnings: Implied cannibalism adjacent activities because guess what honey, this is a fucked up family, what do you expect of me??? Sure, they have breakfast in this, there's cute stuff, but c'mon, they don't eat flowers and oatmeal! Notes: Doubt it needs to be said, but this is a sequel to the good ending of part one. Also Cass has one line in this that might be OOC, or seem oddly placed, but admittedly this chapter is also loosely based on a dream I had, and I couldn't not include the few direct quotations I remembered, and she seemed the most likely to say the line. And yes, there will be a part 3, because I am weak and also kind of maybe made this one less plot-moving than intended.

{Wounded Love: The re-woundening}

Every step ached more than the last, even with Alcina supporting you. She had wanted to carry you down the stairs, of course, but you had insisted that you would be fine. Now you were just determined not to complain out loud. One yelp or cry and you’d be scooped up in her arms, surely to be carried for the rest of the day. As much as you appreciated your girlfriend’s assistance, you hated feeling useless, and hated putting a burden on others. So here you were, one arm wrapped around Alcina’s waist, limping ever-so-slowly towards the dining room.

Further ahead (unburdened by your injury) the three Dimitrescu daughters talk among themselves, voices hushed as they too headed for breakfast. It was odd to see them all awake, and socializing, as there was usually at least one who came to meals late. You couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with your condition… or the circumstances that had caused it.

Less than eighteen hours had passed since your fight with a stray lycan, and tension had been high since. While you hadn’t yet spoken to the sisters, you had spoken to Alcina, who had briefly mentioned their concern for you. Whether they actually cared about you as a person or just cared because you are dating their mother is unclear. Based on how they had acted while treating your wounds, though, you were inclined to think that they were fond of you. And seeing as Alcina had already vowed to get revenge on your behalf… well, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that her daughters intended to assist.

“Careful on the last step, dear,” Alcina says, positioned as to catch you if you fell. It takes a little willpower to resist the urge to hop down the rest of the way. As long as you landed on your uninjured leg, it wouldn’t even be that bad. Still, irritating your girlfriend first thing in the morning felt like a pretty stupid thing to do. Instead you just nodded, slowing down even more, and took visible care not to trip. “Good girl.”

Well, you certainly couldn’t say that being careful didn’t have its rewards.

“I have my moments,” you replied, blush rising to your cheeks. Suddenly your pain didn’t feel so bad (at least until you took another step and winced). “Damn, who woulda thought that cutting a chunk out of my leg would make it hurt more?” The leg in question throbbed in pain, as if to prove your point, protesting the weight you put on it. Changing the angle at which you stood helped some, allowing the lower half of the limb to bear more of the burden.

“Dearest…” Alcina starts to say, looking like she was going to readdress her desire to carry you. For a moment you try to avoid her gaze, but she moves in front of you, making sure that you could still hold onto her for support. “I know how you feel, how you want, desperately, to be independent. When I was first… granted this gift, it took a long time to adjust. There was so much I had to relearn how to do, so much that I suddenly needed done for me.” A pause, a deep breath. At last you look up at your girlfriend, warmth in your heart, reaching out to hold her hand. “You have time, my dear, and plenty of it. More than that… this will not last forever. The more you push yourself, the longer your recovery will take. Now, please, allow me to assist. You have already proven how strong you are.”

“Oh, you drive a hard bargain… but if you insist, who am I to decline? Or, well, who am I to decline twice in a row?” You answer, somewhat begrudgingly. It wasn’t much farther to the dining room, you figured, so it wouldn’t be much of a loss to accept help. Or at least that was what you told yourself. Even with Alcina’s encouragement it was so hard for you to accept her help. After all, you were the one that worked for her. Never mind the fact that she was somewhat responsible for your injury- really, you were actively avoiding thinking about that.

It’s much easier to forget once Alcina carefully picks you up. One arm goes under your legs, the other under your chest, lifting you without any effort. You might as well have been a kitten or a child’s toy. The movement does, however, shift your injured leg in such a way that it aches. At this point you can hardly move the limb at all without it hurting, and even the slightest friction against the bandage makes your eyes water.

Apparently someone would be delivering some painkillers later in the day. You assumed it would be The Duke (whose name is apparently not Doug, as you had thought), seeing as he knew some special way to get to and fro without risking the same fate that had befallen you. Which, of course, made you feel a lot better. Getting someone else hurt would weigh on your mind forever.

Regardless, you were safe now, as was your strange, bloody little family. Before long you would even be enjoying a pleasant meal together. Certainly that would help get your mind off of your wound? For now, though, you were met with an unexpected impasse. The sort of impasse that really, really should have been expected.

“Why… is the doorway… so small?” You asked, jokingly, as you stare into the mildly embarrassed face of your girlfriend. It’s already hard enough for her to crouch through the gap normally. When she’s carrying you? Impossible. “Can we ask Mother Miranda for bigger doors? She gave you eternal life and also three kids, she’s gotta be capable of making bigger doors. Put me down, I’ll go call her and-”

“That won’t be necessary, dear,” Alcina cuts you off, not fully appreciating this part of your humor. Or maybe she had already asked for bigger doors, only to be told no?... Okay, yeah, it was probably the first option. With a sigh she sets you down, as gently as she can manage. Ready and raring to go, you start to hobble forward, only to find all three of the daughters waiting for you, just beyond the door. They’re grinning as they watch you, and Bela extended her arm to offer her help. “What appears to be the matter?” Alcina asks from behind you. Accepting your fate and Bela’s arm, you let the sisters guide you to the table, Cassandra holding your other side, and Daniela pulls your chair out for you. Honestly it’s pretty adorable. Evidently your girlfriend agrees, from the way she smiles as she follows.

“Thank you,” you say, more out of reflex than genuine gratitude. Again, you weren’t thrilled about needing this assistance. If the girls notice they’re at least polite enough not to mention it. They simply move to their own seats at the large table, eager to dig in. It feels… strange, to be here, on this side of things. Stranger still to realize you’re the only one intending to eat actual food. There’s wine in your glass, but it’s a much fainter red than those you’ve previously served to your girlfriend. Thank goodness, you think, after how raw my throat was yesterday, I really don’t need to taste any more blood.

Once Lady Dimitrescu sits down, the meal formally begins, with several maidens appearing from the kitchen. Several seem relieved to see you, although surprised, and one even gave you a brief smile. The smile did not last, however. It wasn’t unexpected, considering the nature of her job, the pressures that it put upon her. No one smiled at mealtimes. Well, no maidens, that is. They simply moved around, wordlessly, faces blank, doing exactly as instructed. Only a few days ago you had been among them, fear keeping you in line. Was it wrong of you to care for Alcina, knowing what she was capable of doing to others? Knowing what she might have, in another life, done to you?

A maiden places a plate of warm food, as well as a bowl of fresh fruit, in front of you. For a moment your eyes meet, but she looks away instinctively. Your heart threatens to break.

“This looks wonderful, thank you for your hard work, all of you,” you speak up, glancing at each of the women working so hard. There’s more you want to say that dries in your throat; you are valued, you are deserving, someday I will join your ranks again.

“You don’t need to thank them, they’re just doing their jobs,” Cassandra chimes from the other side of the table. Hearing her say that damn near makes you drop your fork. It’s not an uncommon settlement, particularly among older generations and the rich, but one that irks you nonetheless.

“They’re doing my job. They are taking on extra work, for no pay, because I am injured. Why would I be so cruel as to ignore them? Have I not toiled alongside them enough to call them my kin?” You ask, struggling to keep your voice even. Next to you Alcina is slowly cutting into her meat, watching the scene unfold out of the corner of her eyes, perhaps considering when to step in. On the other end of the table, Bela looks increasingly uncomfortable, as if silently willing her sister into silence. None of the maidens have reacted to what you said, likely too afraid of Cassandra to even consider speaking.

“Ooooh, this is much more fun than our usual breakfasts,” Daniela says, stifling a giggle. “Do you have any other thoughts you’d like to share? Preferably ones that aren’t about me.” At this, Alcina sets her utensils down, clearly intending to put an end to the discussion. Unfortunately for her, you were a bit… impulsive, especially considering the previous night’s activities had left your mind struggling to cope.

“Dead lycans smell terrible. Literally the worst thing I’ve ever smelled, easily, no question about it,” you answer, shrugging a little as you do. It’s such a simple thought that you almost don’t realize how the others at the table react. Until the clatter of silverware on the table catches your attention, that is. All three sisters are eying you with different expressions (Bela is confused, Cass is impressed, and Daniela looks shocked). But it’s Alcina’s wide-eyed stare that gets you to elaborate. “Should I have said ‘a dead lycan’? I only got one, so I guess I shouldn’t say they all smell bad. C’mon, though, they have to all smell bad, right?”

Suddenly Daniela shifts from shock to pure amusement, a fit of giggles overtaking her. You’re still confused, not sure what the matter was, so you just sip your wine and hope someone asks the right questions.

“You… killed the lycan that attacked you?” Bela finally says, after a few moments of her sister laughing, expression still incredulous. When you nod she sort of shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “May I ask how you managed that?”

“Oh, you know, I just meh meh-” you mime a stabbing motion with your fork- “until the stupid thing stopped moving. I had to use a tree branch as a weapon, but then it broke after a few whacks, which actually helped because then I had two stabbing implements to, you know, stab with. That’s right around when it got my leg, and it tried to bite me. Thankfully it wasn’t very smart, so when it leapt at me I just hyah-” this time an upwards strike- “right into its neck. That didn’t kill it, but it was enough to slow it down, which allowed me to stab the other half of the branch into its skull. Made this horrible, horrible sound as it died. Seeing as we are eating, I will not imitate the sound. Not that I could, now that I think about it…”

Once again there’s silence. Even Daniela has quieted now, and is watching you with rapt interest, likely hoping that you’re hiding another story up your sleeves.

“So… did you guys actually think that I managed to run away from the lycan? Or were you under the impression that it simply got bored of me and left?” You ask, casually returning to your breakfast afterwards. No one says anything, at first, taking in your words as best as they can. A few moments later both Daniela and Bela resume their meal, as nonchalant as one could be in the current situation. Alcina, however, rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze with a loving look.

“You will never cease to amaze me, my dear. But let us ensure you never have to… smell, or see, one of those wretched things again, yes?” She says, softly squeezing you as she does. You can’t help but agree, and nod eagerly, mouth too full of hashbrowns to speak. Still, there’s been a shift in the atmosphere of the room. It’s not that the family didn’t respect you before, as far as you can tell, but they evidently hadn’t expected you to prove as capable as you had. It brings a sense of pride to the forefront of your mind, making you completely forget about your injury for the remainder of the meal.

Unable to stop yourself, you insist on helping the other maidens clean up, and Alcina eventually agrees to let you wash a few dishes- as long as you stay sitting the entire time. The last thing you hear before you shuffle off to the kitchen is the start of a conversation between Cassandra and her mother.

“You picked quite a feisty one, didn’t you?”

“That I did, that I did…”

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #ya boy is a simp and also technically not a boy #i am ill defined and like it #please appreciate this #if you put nice things in the tags I WILL read it #and I WILL love you for it

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minniepetals · 4 years

Text

when the morning comes

— summary: it’s not always the easiest when it comes to waking up and having to leave you but even then, you make every moment worth it all

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, mafia!au

— word count: 2.7k

— warnings: none

— a/n: hope you like

When the alarm rings softly on the nightstand, vibrating and buzzing and Namjoon lets out an annoyed groan as he reaches out to shut the phone off, Taehyung doesn't hear it.

Even as the rest of them groans awake and makes shifting movements on the bed, he's still peacefully sleeping with you held in his arms.

He only understands that dawn is ready to come when you move around in his arms, shuffling closer, hating the warmth already leaving from the comfort of the bed, and holds him tighter.

"Wake up," Hoseok orders in a low tone with a light nudge and he grunts softly to let him know that he's up.

He's still drowsy, sore from the night before due to the mission he's had to lead, but Taehyung doesn't mind it one bit because as he looks down, here he is, still in bed, holding onto one of the most precious things in his life; you.

He goes to move, just slightly, but it's enough to cause a soft mewl of protest out of you and despite the grim expression he has on, hating waking up without his own accord, Taehyung finds it endearing to be the one you're holding onto and refusing to let go this time. The rest of them just scoffs gently, knowing this is one of the hardest task to do when dawn comes. After all, why would they ever want to leave their sweet little babygirl all alone in bed? If time was something they could control, they'd freeze every little moment they have with you.

You don't like it when they leave.

The bed becomes cold and you have no one to hold you.

"Good morning." His voice is gruff, deep, and croaky. Just the way you like it. He leans down as he pulls you even closer, as if you aren't close enough, and presses a small kiss to the top of your head. As if that isn't enough for you, he sees you tilt your head up so that your face is shown to him rather than buried into his chest. Your lips pucker up just slightly, eyes still closed from being half asleep, and a small smile so discreet curls along a corner of his mouth. He takes your face between his hand, squeezing the two cheeks together just enough to make your lips even more puckered up, and he leans in.

One kiss.

Two.

Three.

Each one a little peck. Leaving one beat in between. This is Taehyung's morning kisses. When the fourth one comes, he sees the curl of your lips and knows what you're expecting. So without disappointment, he goes in and peppers kisses after kisses on your lips. Cheeks. Nose. Forehead.

Everywhere.

Your giggles are quick to ring into the air, letting the rest of them to have a glance at what is happening, their lips curling along their lips at the beautiful sound of music so early in the morning.

"S-stop! It-it tickles!" You laugh, stuttering your words as you hold out your hands to try and get away from the great mafia man's grasp. It's nearly impossible but as each day passes, you think you're getting quicker and stronger with a different technique to try.

Today you use your legs.

Two kicks and his hand that had been holding onto your face releases so that he can grab your legs and stop them.

"Tae!"

He's about to take ahold of your wrists with his free hand but suddenly you're pulled back by another strong grip and you yelp as they take your hands and pin them above your head.

"Babygirl's ours too, you know," Jimin huffs with a glare made towards the younger male's way. "Share," he growls before his eyes shifts to meet yours. It's deadly but your heart skips a beat because you're used to it now. Years ago maybe you would have been scared, unknowing of what it meant and confused because each expression is different despite how similar they all look. He may look cold and threatening but right now Jimin's eyes are filled with love.

You know it.

And squeal when he makes no warnings and is quick to attack your neck.

"J-Jimin!"

Your neck is a sensitive spot and he knows it. They all do. Yet here he is, making use of how weak you get and refusing to back down.

"Hey, I had her first!" Taehyung shouts and dives in as well.

Stepping back into the room, Yoongi simply rolls his eyes at the sight of the three of you, two of which should already be out of bed, and sighs. "You're going to kill her."

"Come on," Seokjin comes in to pull the 95 liners off seconds later after he deems enough of their tag teaming. They let go with a grunt, still unsatisfied, but knows they've got to listen the eldest, and huff as they leave to get ready. The man turns back to you whose left lying in the messy sheets, hair sprawled, lips looking a bit swollen and red as you look up at him with innocent eyes. He thinks his heart may have jumped right there at the sight. Something about your beauty just amazes him each day though he doesn't always remind you.

He should.

Seokjin clears his throat as he averts his eyes like an awkward man still trying to adjust to loving another. "You okay?" He asks as if he isn't bothered by the way you look right now.

When he looks back at you again to hear your response, your hand comes up to one side of your neck, touching a spot Jimin had placed his lips on, and the familiar blush he witnesses almost everyday adorns your cheeks.

Seokjin might die.

"I'm okay," you say in your soft, soft tone and then as if for the final attack, your lips curl into a sweet smile that always gets to him and the guys, with arms raised out to invite him in.

He lets out a deep sigh. "Babygirl you're killing me over here." But still, he falls onto the bed and wraps his arms around you, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck and allowing a little squeak to leave your lips as he crushes your body with his own.

It's okay. He knows you like this.

So his smile is naturally kept hidden against your neck but he knows you can feel the curl because you let out your cute little giggle that he loves most.

"Can I have her now?" The youngest of them all grunts with annoyance. One because it's always too early in the morning and he hates the sun and two because he has yet to have you.

Seokjin gets off begrudgingly but not before landing a sweet kiss to your lips. He sends you a playful smirk your way when your cheeks heat up even more and leaves without another word to finish buttoning his white shirt up.

"Hey, eyes on me," the maknae demands and when your eyes finally falls on him, he sees the way your eyes crinkles and his mood is almost immediately lifted until your hand reaches out to ruffle his hair like he's a little child. "Y/N," the man scowls.

"Kook," you let out a little laugh, "your bedhead is-"

"I'm not a child," he says lowly with his teeth clenched as he takes your wrist and stops you from playing with his hair.

Your eyes soften as you realize what's going on and understand. "I know, Kookie," you tell him softly but he only huffs at the nickname. "But there's nothing wrong in being the one on the receiving end, is there?"

"Come on, Kook," Hoseok laughs as he takes the initiative to tease the little one with ruffling his hair just like you'd done, "I know you like it."

"I don't," Jungkook denies stubbornly.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Kid's too prideful to say it."

He's about to shout, "I'm not a-"

"Kook." You take his attention back on you as you grab his hand and rub your thumb on the back of his hand. With your soft smile gifted his way, Jungkook calms and listens. "It's okay. I understand."

His heart skips a beat and the world seems to flow in slow motion for a moment as he just stares back at you, not knowing how and why you've come into their lives. But he's thankful. He's so, so thankful.

"That's enough to make you soft?" Hoseok snickers and Jungkook is quick to snap his head towards his boyfriend's way with a glare as he rounds you and wraps his arms around you from the back, pulling you flushed against his chest in a possessive way.

"Don't underestimate babygirl's power!" The maknae shouts and Hoseok relents with a light wave of his hand.

"I know, I know." He looks at you with a smirk, causing your cheeks to heat up once more with just a stare alone. "Babygirl is indeed powerful."

"You just realized that now?" Namjoon asks as he emerges from the bathroom.

"Nope," he plays with the cuffs on his wrist, eyes never leaving yours as he swipes a tongue along his lower lip, "I've realized that long before."

You hesitate and shyly ask, "W..when?"

"When?" Hoseok looks amused with himself when he puts a knee on the bed and crawls in towards you. Jungkook's grip on you only tightens, as if silently trying to warn his hyung that this is his moment with you and that Hoseok shouldn't interfere. You're not sure whether the older male hasn't catch the signal or is blatantly ignoring him because either way, he's still creeping your way. "Why," he takes ahold of your chin, "when I fell in love with you of course."

Maybe you knew the kiss was coming but when his lips captures yours, you can only sit there as your eyes widen (with Jungkook whining out a "hyung") because you didn't expect such words to be uttered through.

He's loved you since a long time ago? You've been dating for about a year now so...when did Hoseok fall in love?

When his lips leaves yours and he looks down at you, the smirk on his lips tells you that he must know the exact thing on your mind. But he leaves without a word with a sly grin as if silently telling you he's not going to tell you that anytime soon.

"He gets a kiss before me and I got you first." Behind you, Jungkook grumbles and your focus falls back onto him once again.

With a light chuckle, you turn yourself around in his hold and cup his pouty face. "Don't be mad at your hyung for too long."

He huffs. "Hoseok hyung's a sadist."

"Maybe so but you've got me now, don't you?"

His eyes softens as he realizes with a chuckle. "Right." Jungkook holds you steadily as he leans in to finally place a sweet kiss to your lips.

"Took you long enough," Yoongi scoffs.

"Shut up!" The younger one retorts with another huff before he gets off the bed to rush to the bathroom.

Yoongi sighs then meets your gaze and a slight smirk curls at his lips. "Come here," the man orders with a hand held out for you to take. You reach out for him without hesitation and he pulls you up and off the sheets to stand at the foot of the bed. Yoongi snakes an arm around your waist and takes you in even closer to him, face leaning in with his forehead touching yours. His breath grazes your skin as he speaks. "You know what gets annoying at times?"

You blink. "Mm...no."

"I have to be the good hyung and have the needy ones get you first every morning but tomorrow," he makes a promise with his gaze alone, "I'll be the one to have you first, you got that?"

The temperature of your cheeks rises at his declaration and Yoongi smirks, satisfied.

"Why are you so easy to fluster?"

You pout. "I don't fluster you?"

"Oh you do," he chuckles lowly as he leans in closer, the sensation of his lips touching yours when he speaks again, "we're just better at hiding it." With that, Yoongi captures your lips with his own. "Good morning," he tells you when he lets you go.

You giggle. "Good morning."

"It's almost time," the big boss announces when Yoongi goes on to fetch his things. You frown slightly at Namjoon who seems to have forgotten about you as he's fixing his tie. As if he can tell there is a pair of eyes watching him, Namjoon turns to find you. "Think I've forgotten?" He chuckles at your dejected face.

"Am I that easy to read?"

He hums while walking up to you. "Your face says everything."

You take ahold of his black tie for him and begin to tie it for him, something he easily lets you take over by letting go and wrapping his arms around you, fingers intertwining behind you. "Are you alright?" You ask softly. "I know you didn't get much sleep. Taehyung finished his mission before you even came home. You promise you weren't hurt?"

At your worry tone and the concern in your knitted brows, Namjoon takes your chin under his fingers to tilt it up. Your movements on his tie stops but he doesn't mind. "Babygirl," he calls.

You meet his eyes. "Hm?"

"Would I ever lie to you?"

You think about it for a second, making his brows furrow slightly. "Maybe not to worry me," you say and he sighs.

"Alright," he admits, "maybe for that. But this time I promise it's the truth. Will you believe me on this?" He reaches to smooth down the strands of hair that had gotten messy after Taehyung and Jimin's ministrations. "You're our precious girl and being in this kind of business is not easy hence despite not liking to admit it, there are a lot of things we have to keep from you for your own safety and your modesty as a human. But even then, lying to you is a different story, something we will do our best to never do. Yet there are times that it may happen but you have to know this, little one," he tucks your hair behind an ear, "we love you and we will never do anything to hurt you on purpose. You got that?"

He's still tired, you can tell, with the lack of sleep the night before and having to wake up so early just for a job like this. So you look back down at his tie, keeping silent as he watches you finish making the last loop and adjust the knot up his neck. You smile as you return your gaze on him, tip toeing up with hands on his shoulders as you lean up to press a kiss to his lips.

"I know," you tell him. "I trust you. I trust you all."

How is it possible to fall more and more in love with you each passing day? Namjoon doesn't know how to answer the question but he knows. He knows that he loves you.

"Now go on," you pat at his chest twice, "or you'll be late."

If only time can pass by slowly when they're with you.

"I'll call you."

"We'll be back later tonight."

"But don't wait up too long if we don't come back on time, alright?"

"Don't skip your meals."

"Call us if anything happens."

"Stay safe."

"Be careful." Namjoon wraps his arms around you again to press a kiss to your head before taking your hand and doing the same to the back on your hand. "Do not hesitate to call if anything happens. I know you worry about things like burdening us and not wanting to worry us but trust me, those thoughts are not only wrong but they're useless to even think about. I want you to rely on us. We're here for a reason and we're not leaving you anytime soon," he pauses, "or ever."

You tilt your head, narrowing your gaze playfully. "Is that a threat?"

He smirks. "It's a vow."

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talkfantasytome · 3 years

Text

Evening Etiquette - Part I

Nessian Week Prompt: AU Day!

When asked on a date, Nesta agrees in the hopes that a certain someone will finally get the message. It would probably would have worked better if that someone hadn't shown up too.

Warnings: Minor Language, Mentions of Past Experiences

Word Count: 3,739 | Read on AO3

All Velaris State Chronicles | Costume Changes | Dinner Dances

a/n: Finally did it! Partially...here's the first part to the next short story in the Velaris State Chronicles.

For AU Day, I just had to use Velaris State. It's been too long since I've posted for this series. It's definitely going to be a slow build of chronicles, but I don't plan on making any one wait too long for updates for each short story. Just that there will be time between each story.

The stories are all companions, and many do end on cliffhangers, but I try to write them in a way so that you don't have to have read the earlier ones to be able to understand each individual story. Just that you'll have a lot more background/detail if you read them all. XD

Mixed Messages

A flash of bright red hair had Mor pausing her movements, fork stilled in midair as she turned to Nesta.

"Incoming," she warned, her eyes flicking back to where the man was, walking toward them with determination.

She watched as Nesta's head snapped toward where Mor was looking, any excitement draining from her face the second she met those amber eyes. Mor couldn't help but smirk slightly at the thought of who Nesta might have been hoping she meant.

"Nesta Archeron," Eris purred, stopping in front of their table. "You're a hard woman to track down."

"That is the goal in life," she replied, a cold smile on her lips. Mor snickered softly. She absolutely loved the ice queen - when she was directing it at someone Mor also disliked, at least. She hoped to one day introduce Nesta to her father for that exact purpose.

It didn't deter Eris, though. He just smirked and rested a hand on their table. Objectively, Mor could agree he was an attractive man - externally. With a frame similar to Rhys's, shaggy, water-polo-bro auburn hair, and sparkling amber eyes, she was sure many girls enjoyed admiring him from afar. It was just his damn personality that was an issue. She didn't know why Nesta seemed to be appeasing him.

"I was sorry we couldn't reconnect at the party the other week," Eris started, his focus entirely on Nesta.

"I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry," Nesta countered. "It was after two AM when I left. And I was beat."

"Well, since we didn't get a chance to continue, how about we do so tonight? Over dinner?" Eris's request was smooth and silky, and it made Mor's skin crawl. She'd told Nesta about her own experience with Eris, being forced out on a date with him when she was sixteen, only to be stranded in the middle of town, over a mile away from home, at eleven at night because she didn't want to do anything physical with him.

Admittedly, Eris had apologized about a year later, but Mor wasn't one to forgive easily.

She watched Nesta, seeing the gears turning in her mind, the spark of something sinister in her eyes. Mor could sense it coming. A stunning rejection that would likely send Eris waddling off, tail between his legs. But then something shifted.

Her gaze flicked upward, beyond Eris, and widened before narrowing in a way Mor had seen many times before. Nesta felt challenged, and following her eyes, Mor could see why. Cassian was standing at a table, chatting with some guys who looked like they were on the hockey team with him, but his eyes were on Nesta, a half-smile resting on his lips.

Idiot.

Mor saw it all happen as if in slow motion. Nesta's mind flipping a switch, her smile adjusting into something cold and calculating, all while her eyes seemed to grey, a clear sign of that wall Nesta had built becoming thicker in the moment.

"Why not?" Nesta answered, leaning back in her chair. "I could do with a good meal."

"Shall I pick you up?"

Nesta stiffened in her seat. "No. Let's meet at the restaurant."

Eris's brows furrowed slightly, but he nodded in agreement. "Okay, then. The Cabin. Seven work for you?"

"Can we make it eight? I've got a late lecture and some things I need to get sorted."

Lie. Nesta's classes already ended for the day. She was pushing the time back for some other reason.

Eris agreed quickly and then sauntered off, looking as if he owned the entire campus.

"What the hell, Nesta?" Mor asked, her voice low to avoid others overhearing them. She'd seen it all happen. She knew why her friend had agreed to the date despite clearly having a thing for someone else - or, more likely, because she had a thing for someone else. Still, she could hardly believe Nesta would go out with Eris. "Why would you agree to that?"

Nesta shrugged. "He asked politely and he wasn't the worst person at Helion's party…to me."

"Yeah, but you know what he's like. Why would you ask me to tell you what happened if you weren't going to care?"

Mor couldn't deny she felt slightly hurt by this. It wasn't exactly a betrayal, she wasn't being forced to spend time with Eris, and she had learn to be more comfortable in Eris's presence, but she still hated the man.

"I do care, Mor!" Nesta argued.

"So, then, what? Is it all just to play with Cassian? He doesn't deserve that," Mor sighed.

Nesta's face hardened, and Mor wondered if she'd taken a step too far. But, no…Nesta just agreed to go out with Eris. In front of her. She could say what she bloody well wanted to say.

"I'm not playing with him." Nesta brushed a hand through her golden brown hair, pushing stray strands out of her angled face. "I'm merely using Eris to send a message. I have no plans on fully dating him. One dinner - the message gets sent, and Eris is an unaware tool. I figured you wouldn't have a problem with me using Eris like this."

Mor huffed. "I mean, if you're going to use someone, then yeah, Eris is a good choice. He deserves it. But…why send that message to Cassian? I thought you liked him."

Nesta pivoted in her seat, dropping her head to look at her lunch as she shrugged. "I'm not looking to get seriously involved with anyone. Ever. Better to send him away now."

She couldn't help the massive eye roll at her friend's obvious denial. Mor wasn't an idiot. She knew something had happened at the dinner the previous week. Nesta wasn't known for her impulse control. It's probably why Cassian wasn't 'getting the message'. Her words and actions didn't align.

"And the later meal time? You're free for the rest of the afternoon."

A wicked smile spread on Nesta's lips. "By the time the date ends the bar should be full of people," she explained. "Plenty of options, assuming the date doesn't go well. If it does…maybe I'll throw Eris a bone."

Mor's mouth dropped in shock. She knew Nesta enjoyed casual one night stands, but to plan it out so thoroughly. And to consider allowing Eris to be that man. Mor knew what she'd be doing that night.

"Okay, I should go," Nesta said suddenly, standing and packing up the remainder of her lunch. "I want to do some work, gotta make that rent." She winked at Mor and then walked off, purposefully taking a slightly longer route to avoid walking by Cassian.

Sitting there for an extra minute, Mor considered all that just happened, and then lunged into action. She put her own lunch away and walked over to the table of very large guys who were all laughing at something Cassian just said.

"Hey," Mor offered him, not paying any mind to the three guys that were all now staring at her. "Quick side bar?"

Cassian nodded and then threw a nod to his friends, as if signaling he'd be back, before following Mor a few steps away.

"You gonna tell me what Eris was talking to Nesta about?" Cassian asked, an amused look on his face. "Because I think I know."

"Do you know that Nesta said yes?" Mor shot back, crossing her arms over her chest, annoyed by the cocky attitude Cassian was displaying.

She still ended up feeling a bit bad for being the reason his face suddenly dropped.

"What?" His voice was low and raw, his eyes now narrowed into a far more serious look.

"He asked her to have dinner tonight, and she agreed," Mor explained. "Figured you'd want to know."

She knew Cassian's glare wasn't for her, but it didn't stop her from wanting to shrink before it. But then his eyes lightened again as he let out a breathy laugh. "When and where?"

"The Cabin, at eight. Why?"

Cassian just gave her an easy smile. "Gotta know what locations to avoid tonight."

She couldn't explain it, but for some reason Mor didn't believe him. "Look, Cass, I know you like her but, maybe…I don't know…try looking for someone else? I love Nesta, but…she's guarded."

"I know what Nesta is, Mor. I'm not going to stop until she definitively tells me to…and even then…" He let out a large exhale. Cassian would never harass someone, but Mor wondered if he might wait forever for the right girl.

"Why, Cassian? Why bother if she keeps pushing?"

Cassian sighed, his eyes flicking up to look at the campus beyond Mor.

"Because I can't stay away."

Cassian had really hoped Mor was wrong.

That she'd misheard. Or that Nesta had changed her mind. Or maybe was just appeasing Eris until she could get away and text him.

Not that Nesta seemed to have a problem with in-person confrontation. At all.

But Cassian could dream, couldn't he?

So dream he did. All afternoon, until she actually walked into The Cabin, red-headed prick in tow.

Suddenly, Cassian was extremely glad he was out with some other hockey team buddies instead of Rhys and Az. Because he was going to get rip roaring drunk and he sure as hell didn't want to talk about why. And if they'd been here, they'd already be asking how he was doing. The dicks.

And fuck him. Because Nesta looked like a fantasy in her black top, russet corduroy skirt, and leather jacket with her golden-brown hair half braided around falling, loose curls.

He all but groaned when he saw her legs were completely bare save for the little black booties she wore. Mother above, she must be cold in that.

Which would mean she was making herself uncomfortable for her date…with Eris.

If Cassian had been holding his drink, he likely would have shattered the glass with a squeeze based on how tight his hands were clenching. He wanted Nesta to make herself uncomfortable for him.

Well, no, not exactly. Gods, that sounded bad. Thank the Mother he hadn't said it out loud.

He very much wanted Nesta to be comfortable at all times, especially with him. But, he did want to be someone Nesta thought was worth dressing up for. Someone she might want to don a little skirt for, even in the middle of November. And then he'd make sure she stayed warm.

Disgust flooded through him at the thought of Eris trying to do just that. Even the sight of Eris's hand resting on the small of her back as he led her to their table was enough to make Cassian cringe. And then wait for her to look over, to tell him she was as aware of his presence as he seemed to be of hers.

She never did.

It was actually rather impressive, considering the amount of times Cassian saw her almost look at him. It was those little head movements, the flicking of her eyes starting toward the area he was in, that told Cassian this wasn't one sided.

Well, that along with the fact that she had been the one to climb into his shower the previous week. There was nothing about that night Cassian would be forgetting any time soon. Or ever. He'll probably be pleasuring himself to that memory when he's eighty years old, unless Nesta decides to bless him with more memories between now and then.

Cassian was so wrapped up in watching Nesta, her back stiff and face indifferent as she chatted with Eris, that he'd practically forgotten he wasn't alone at the bar.

"Dude, that girl has been staring at you for the past fifteen minutes," one of his teammates, Balthazar, said, finally pulling Cassian's eyes away from Nesta.

"What girl?" he grunted, entirely uninterested. It wasn't Nesta, so he didn't particularly care.

Balthazar motioned toward one of the standing tables along the windows of the bar where a small group of girls was chatting. A dark haired, slightly tanned woman was standing with her back to the street, her light brown eyes trailing over his body.

She was attractive, generally speaking. Typically, Cassian would be all over that opportunity, she definitely made it seem like it wouldn't be difficult. But, the truth was, he just wasn't interested. Apparently he'd rather sit here, watch Nesta, and brood before going home with his hand.

"Good for her," he sighed, turning his gaze away almost as soon as it found her.

Kallon rolled his eyes. "He doesn't even have to try and he's got a girl ready to fall all over him," he scoffed. "Some things in life truly aren't fair."

"Oh, they're fair," Cassian chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. "Put in the time to look like this, and you might find better success."

"No one can look like that, Cass," Balthazar teased, his own stare focused on a brown haired man at the end of the bar. "Most that try either miss the mark or end up…too big."

"If you're going to hit on me, Bal, you should try doing so when you're not eye fucking some other guy," Cassian taunted, winking at his friend.

Bal chuckled, downing the rest of his drink and placing the glass back on the counter. "You wish, Cass. But I'm not interested in guys mooning after taken girls."

"She's not taken," he snapped back, flinching at his own tone. Taking a deep breath, he looked over at Bal. "Sorry."

He simply shrugged and patted Cassian on the shoulder. "Good luck, cap." He then walked around Cassian, heading straight toward the guy he'd been eyeing.

"If it helps, I'm rooting for you," Kallon offered, scratching his head and ruffling his black hair.

"Sucking up?" Cassian asked, a playful smile on his lips as his eyes landed on Nesta again. She was currently taking a sip of some red wine, looking completely bored and unenthused by her partner or her drink. Or, that's how Cassian chose to read the near-flat face.

"More like attempting to ease the competition," he teased. "But, hey, if it makes you less of a prickly captain, I wouldn't be complaining."

"I wouldn't hope too hard for that."

Cassian felt his teeth grind as he watched Nesta say something that had Eris bark out a laugh, her own lips twitching up at the corners for a brief moment. She seemed to be loosening up, a bit, and suddenly the last decent pieces of Cassian's mood started to disappear.

It really wasn't that funny.

Nesta had offered the barest of smiles at her own quip, but was now sitting there, slightly exasperated at the reaction Eris was providing. Especially seeing as she hadn't entirely meant it as a joke.

Men didn't typically laugh at being asked what they were compensating for…it almost made her feel bad for Eris. He was trying so hard. It really wasn't working.

It probably didn't help that Cassian was there, at the restaurant, sitting at the bar with friends and looking like the physical embodiment of her wettest dream - which, unsurprisingly, had included him. He was just lounging there, sitting with his back against the bar, leather jacket draped over a forest green shirt that was just tight enough to remind Nesta what was beneath it.

She'd been thinking about that chest non-stop for over a week. The way it felt to be pressed against it. How it looked in the shower, water cascading down his body.

Nesta felt her arousal growing at the memory and needed to cross her legs for a small amount of friction.

This was why she refused to look at him after noticing him when she walked in with Eris. Why she scolded herself each time she felt her eyes or head instinctively turn toward him. If just the mental picture, the memory of him, could heat her up, she didn't even want to think about what might happen if she were actually looking at him. Drowning in those hazel eyes. Admiring the shoulder-length black hair, or how auburn hues shone through in the light.

No, the point of this date was to send a message that Nesta wasn't his. That she wouldn't be his and he should just give up. Because Cassian…Cassian was dangerous. He was a risk Nesta wasn't willing to take. Not emotionally, and she wasn't sure if they could be just physical.

But damn it, with him sitting there, Nesta might be willing to test that out further.

"You know, I really am glad we're able to do this," Eris offered, pulling Nesta out of her reverie. She hadn't realized she'd been blankly staring at her wine until his voice snapped her eyes to his. Her stupid, bitter wine.

Nesta preferred white. She'd even mentioned that at the start of the date. But, oh no, you have to try this cabernet. So now she was stuck with red wine that she was drinking - slowly - just to be polite. Etiquette and all that.

"It's nice," she sighed, thinking specifically about the bruschetta appetizer she'd just had, to make it feel like less of a lie. She did love a good bruschetta, and The Cabin's was stellar.

"I was starting to think I wouldn't get the chance," he added, offering her a smile. It seemed gentle, but there was an arrogance beneath it that wasn't at all the attractive kind. "I'd been trying to find you since Halloween."

"Glad to know I made such a lasting impression." And not just on him.

Helion's Halloween party really had been something. Not that she cared to remember much about her interactions with Eris, but that was the night she and Cassian first kissed…before she ran out on him without so much as a goodbye.

"I'm sure you're well aware of the impression you make, Nesta," he shot back, and amused glint in his amber eyes.

Nesta contemplated for a moment. "Not the one I make on a daily basis, but apparently when dressed as a faerie I'm quite unforgettable," she taunted.

"Oh, I'm fairly certain you would have left the same impression on me had we met in class or at some bar. Though, I was a fan of the costume."

"You're not alone."

"I know," Eris grunted through tight lips, his face falling slightly. "I'm not blind to the man who's been staring at you all evening."

Nesta felt one side of her lip turn upward at that comment. "I haven't noticed." And she hadn't, really. Because she'd purposefully not been looking. But she'd be lying if she said she hadn't felt his eyes on her.

"I'd hope not. A brute like that doesn't deserve you."

Nesta had to grip her seat to help her maintain a neutral expression as her entire body seemed to light on fire at the comment. She focused on keeping her eyes from widening in anger, her teeth grinding together so that she wouldn't blurt out the real truth - that she didn't deserve Cassian.

"I'm not saying he's a bad person, exactly," Eris went on. "But you can be so much more than he ever will be. Don't let him drag you down."

Her heart was racing, her nails digging into the wood of her chair as she fought every instinct that told her to slap Eris directly across the face. She'd question those instincts later. For now, she schooled her features as best she could, offering Eris a cold, wicked smile.

"You could say the same thing about every guy at this school," she replied, her voice cool and even.

Eris didn't seem to miss the hint, his own features darkening for a second before he managed to steel himself and offer her a small smirk back. "But some far less than others."

"I doubt it's enough."

Just then their entrees came, and Nesta thanked the Mother for the break, a reason to stop talking for a moment.

Once they'd each had a few bites the conversation started again, lighter and easier as they discussed their majors, what they did outside of class, and other shallower topics. It didn't stop Nesta from mentally imagining what Eris would look like if she did hit him. Or if he saw her kissing Cassian.

And, now she at least knew how she'd be spending the rest of the night.

It was perfect. Spite. What a brilliant reason. Even if Eris never found out, it wouldn't matter. She could be fueled by spite; that worked for her. Way better than being fueled by actual feelings.

Declining dessert, the date ended fairly quickly, Eris paying and then the two walking out the restaurant as he offered her a ride home.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," she answered, stopping a few feet away from the door. "I live just down the street, way too close for it to be worth driving up and around to get to my place." Not to mention it would mean even more time with Eris, the damn one-way streets could really be an inconvenience at times.

Or, at least, they would've been - if Nesta had been telling the truth.

"Sounds good," he sighed, fiddling with his keys in his hand. "We should do this again sometime." Nesta didn't respond as he bent down and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, his touch only deepening her resolve as she held back a flinch.

She watched as he went to some black sports car - nice, clearly expensive, but still understated - and then she waited until the car rounded the corner and was out of sight.

Once it was, Nesta strutted back into the restaurant, finding Cassian exactly where he'd been sitting right away, his two friends flanking him again. She walked over to him, determined and certain that this was what she wanted to do that night. A huge, albeit private, 'ha-ha' to Eris.

It was the only reason she was going for it, of course. There definitely wasn't anything else driving her…

Cassian's eyes were on her by the time she was halfway to him, and when she was only a foot away he opened his mouth, his eyes wide with shock as he muttered a, "Nes-"

He never finished speaking her name. Not as Nesta took his face in her hands and crashed her lips against his.

a/n: There are not enough good/nice Illyrian characters, hence Kallon. They're not best friends, but he's not going to be a dickwad here...I just needed more characters that seemed like feasible members of a college hockey team. lol

Pretty sure there will be just one more part. I haven't finished the story yet this time, because I need to post it for today's prompt, but based on this, I think it'll only end up being two parts long.

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @nehemikkele @nestaisgod @julemmaes @live-the-fangirl-life @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @bo0kmaster69 @angelic-voice-1997 @moodymelanist @nessianweek

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