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#but everything i'm hearing about man after man? that book is fucked up and you should look into it
sinkovia · 2 months
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Consequences
-Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
Angst, mention of miscarriage, mention of death, blood.
Alternative ending
You sat on your bed, a book in hand, your other hand gently resting on your stomach. The room was filled with a warm and serene atmosphere as you flipped through the pages. You were reading about first-time parents and tips on what to do when you first bring your baby home. It was a moment of quiet joy, and you couldn't help but smile.
You were happier than ever, your face radiant with the anticipation of the life growing inside you. After a string of painful miscarriages, you had made it past the usual time period of uncertainty. You were now six months pregnant, and the relief of reaching this milestone was evident in your expression.
You and Ghost had been trying for a baby for the past two years. Each time you got pregnant, you miscarried around the three-month mark. His deployments often left you feeling lonely in the house, and it was time for you to expand your family. The idea of having children had always been a shared dream, and you were now well on your way to realizing it.
Ghost had just returned home, his hands full of grocery bags, which he placed on the table with a heavy thud. He was in the midst of a heated phone call, and you could hear his loud, strained voice from the adjacent room. Closing the book, you set it down on the nightstand and slowly made your way to the kitchen, your footsteps filled with a sense of anticipation.
His voice grew louder as you approached, you strained to listen as you heard his words spill from his mouth, the tension and frustration evident in his tone. He cursed in exasperation, abruptly ending the call and slamming the phone down on the kitchen counter, the resounding noise echoing in the room.
"Is everything okay?" you asked him, walking up slowly, your voice filled with concern. He took a deep breath, his gaze heavy and tired, and then turned to face you.
"Price is deploying me," his words landed like a heavy blow. Your heart sank, and your eyes began to well up with tears.
"What do you mean Price is deploying you? You told me that you talked to him about not sending you on missions while I was pregnant," your voice shaking with emotion. You took a step closer, desperation creeping into your tone.
"You did talk to him, right?" searching for any sign of reassurance. But he wouldn't meet your gaze, his eyes fixed on the counter. Your heartache deepened, and a single tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek.
"Simon!" you cried, flinching as he slammed his fists down onto the counter. He raised his voice, his frustration turning into anger.
"For fuck's sake, Y/n! No, I didn't talk to him!" he shouted, and you were stunned into silence. The words he spoke were a painful betrayal. You remembered vividly that he had assured you he'd spoken to Price about this.
"I never got around to it, okay? I didn't think you would make it this far. I assumed you would miscarry again, so I didn't bother telling him. I'm sorry, okay?" he admitted, his voice laced with guilt. The room felt heavy with the weight of his confession, and disbelief washed over you as you struggled to comprehend what he had just revealed. Your heart felt as if it had been torn in two. The man you loved and trusted had let you down in a way you never thought possible.
"Are you serious, Simon?" The disbelief and pain in your voice was thick as you confronted him. "This whole time, you were just pretending to be happy, but in reality, you were just waiting for me to miscarry again?" The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and you fixed your gaze on him, waiting for his response.
He couldn't even bring himself to look you in the eye as you spoke to him, and his voice was heavy with guilt as he admitted, "Yes." Your tears were now falling freely, and your chest ached with the pain of betrayal. He moved past you, grabbing his keys from the counter, his actions leaving you bewildered.
"Where are you going?" you asked, your voice a mixture of confusion and hurt. You moved closer, positioning yourself between him and the door, your determination to address the situation clear in your eyes.
"I'm going out; I need a drink," he responded, his words sounding callous and uncaring. You scoffed in disbelief, feeling the need to get to the bottom of this situation.
"No, you're not. We need to talk about this—" You reached for his hand, but he forcefully ripped it away, turning to glare down at you, his anger laid bare.
"There's nothing to fucking talk about, y/n. I'm deploying in two weeks, and nothing will change that!" He raised his voice, his frustration evident.
Your heart ached as you took a step back, struggling to understand his behavior. "Why are you acting like this? Why are you yelling at me?" you asked, your voice trembling as tears continued to fall.
"Because I'm fucking stressed, y/n. I didn't think you would make it this far into your pregnancy. Now, I'm getting deployed, and I don't know when I'll be back," he snapped, his own frustrations and anxieties taking over.
"Why are you taking it out on me?" You couldn't hold back the pain in your voice. "It's not my fault you didn't tell Price. You should have told him. I'm six months pregnant, Simon! How long were you going to wait until you told him?"
"Did I say it was your fault?!" he shot back, his anger flaring. "I know what I should have done, but I didn't, and now we are here. Now, get the fuck out of my way."
The harshness in his words cut deep, and you looked up at him in disbelief. He had never spoken to you like this before. While you knew his temper could be volatile, he had never taken it out on you in such a way.
"No, I don't want you to leave," you pleaded, trying to keep him from walking out the door. "We need to work this out, Simon. You know how I feel about things like this." You were insistent on resolving conflicts, always wanting to talk things through.
"I don't care how you feel; I don't want to talk about this right now," he retorted, his voice filled with frustration. "I need a fucking drink, so get out of my way." The desperation in his words hung in the air, and you couldn't believe the person he was becoming in this moment.
You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "No, I won't let you leave." Your resolve was strong, and you were determined to keep him here until you could address the issues at hand. His frustration had pushed him to a point where he was leaving the house in anger, but you couldn't let that happen. You would never let him leave the house when you guys were upset with one another. It was always something you were insistent on.
His hands went to your shoulders, and he harshly moved you out of the way. You stumbled, almost losing your balance, but you steadied yourself. He walked out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving you alone with a heavy heart and a whirlwind of emotions. You couldn't hold back the overwhelming flood of emotions that consumed you, and you collapsed onto the floor, your body wracked with deep, wrenching sobs.
In all the time you had been together, he had never laid his hands on you in anger like that. His temper was known to flare, but this was an entirely new level of intensity, especially considering he was the one at fault for the situation. You remained on the floor for what felt like an eternity, weeping into your hands, your heart heavy with a mixture of pain, betrayal, and despair. It was an hour of solitude in your sorrow before you mustered the strength to get up.
Getting up to your feet, you made your way to your room, your phone in hand, desperate to reach him. You attempted to call him, your fingers trembling. But just as you were about to press the call button, a sharp and agonizing pain coursed through your stomach, stopping you in your tracks. You were begging, repeating the words, "Please, not again," as you made your way to the bathroom, tears filling your eyes. You were in agony and feared for the well-being of your baby.
You collapsed on the bathroom floor as the pain became nearly unbearable, unlike anything you had experienced before. It felt as though your insides were being torn apart, and you couldn't bear it. With trembling hands and tears streaming down your face, you pressed the dial button and called Simon, your voice choked with pain and desperation.
You cried out as the agony radiated through your body, each moment feeling like an eternity. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer from him. It eventually went to voicemail, leaving you with a sinking feeling of abandonment and despair. As the pain intensified and your vision blurred, you set the phone down on the bathroom floor, your sobs echoing through the empty room.
Your trembling hands moved between your legs, coming away soaked in blood. Panic and fear gripped your heart as you propped yourself up against the toilet, leaning over it for support. Desperation consumed you as you reached for your phone once more, this time dialing 911 in a desperate attempt to get help.
But the blood on your fingers made it difficult, and the phone slipped from your grasp, landing with a sickening splash in the toilet. Your heart sank as you watched the screen turn black, your lifeline to assistance lost in the crimson-stained water.
Tears streamed down your face as you sat on the bathroom floor, gripping your stomach. You watched as the blood began to pool beneath you, and you cried out in anguish. You mustered all the strength you could, attempting to get up from the cold, hard bathroom floor. You needed to get help. Panic and agony coursed through you as you struggled to rise.
The pain was unbearable, and you knew something was terribly wrong. This was beyond the point of a typical miscarriage, given how far along you were in your pregnancy.
As you moved, a searing, relentless pain tore through your body, causing you to scream out in sheer agony. You lay on the bathroom floor, helpless and writhing in pain, your body refusing to cooperate.
An hour had passed, and in your hands, you held your stillborn baby. You sat against the bathroom wall, surrounded by a growing pool of your own blood. Emotions swirled within you, leaving you feeling numb and empty. You asked yourself what you had done to deserve this.
Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the world around you as you sat there, grappling with the reality of the fifth baby you lost. Your body was supposed to be nurturing new life, but instead, it had betrayed you once again. It felt like a cruel and never-ending nightmare.
With great pain and effort, you retrieved a small box from under the sink. You had experienced miscarriages so often that you'd prepared for such moments, stashing the small boxes under the sink. Gently, you placed your baby inside and closed the lid, tears still silently falling.
You lay on the cold, tiled bathroom floor in a growing pool of blood, your body trembling with exhaustion and pain.
In your arms, you cradled the small, delicate box, the weight of grief pressing heavily on your chest. Every passing moment seemed to drain you further, and the relentless flow of blood showed no signs of stopping.
Each breath became more laborious, your vision blurred, and you could feel your strength waning with each passing second. Your sobs and cries were replaced by an eerie silence as you struggled to hold on, the world fading around you as you clung to the precious, heartbreaking reminder of the life that would never be.
Ghost, sitting at the bar with Soap, had been sharing the situation he was in. It was late into the night, and the bar's dim lighting seemed to reflect the weight on Ghost's shoulders.
He ended up calling Price again, explaining that you were pregnant, and the conversation had been a long and tense one, going back and forth as they argued about the deployment. Finally, Price made the decision not to deploy Ghost on the mission.
With a deep exhale, Ghost felt a mixture of relief and guilt. He knew he had to make things right with you for the hurtful words he had spoken. For the way he treated you when you only wanted to talk it out. For breaking the promise you made to each other to never leave the house when one was upset with the other. Soap patted him on the back, offering his support and reminding Ghost that he really needed to make it up to you.
They ordered a few more drinks, and as the night wore on, they both realized they were in no condition to drive. It was then that they decided to walk to Soap's house, which was conveniently located only five minutes from the bar.
Their plan was to return in the morning, and whoever was in better shape would drive to the store to pick up the things Ghost needed for you.
Morning came, and they walked back to the bar to retrieve Ghost's car. Ghost ended up driving to the store where they selected a variety of items, ultimately deciding to make a basket filled with things you liked.
In the passenger seat Soap arranged the items in the basket while Ghost took a quick detour to the florist, picking out the largest and most beautiful bouquet of flowers he could find before going home.
Soap followed close behind Ghost as they entered the house, he placed the gift basket in the kitchen, and Ghost slowly made his way to the bedroom. He slowly opened the door, and noticed that you weren't in bed so he started to walk over to the bathroom.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the blood that had seeped from under the bathroom door. Panic surged through him as he rushed to open the door.
His heart dropped, and his breath caught as he found you lifeless, lying in a pool of blood. Your gaze was far away, and you held a small box beside you. He recognized it immediately – the same small boxes you used for the miscarriages.
With a rush of emotions, he took a hesitant step forward, but his balance wavered as he almost slipped on the blood-soaked floor. Rushing to your side, he carefully set the small box aside, his trembling hands unsteady. Ghost cradled your cold face in his hands, tears streaming from his eyes as he sat on the floor, your blood seeping into his clothes.
"Y/n baby look at me, please look at me, love. You're okay, it's okay, it's going to be okay."
He called out for soap, who was in the kitchen. Soap attempted to approach you, but Ghost, his voice strained with grief and guilt yelled at him.
"Johnny just call 911!" he hurried to the kitchen to make the call, leaving Ghost alone, cradling your lifeless form, lost in a world of anguish and guilt.
He called out to you, his voice a desperate plea, but there was no response. Ghost's cries of anguish filled the small bathroom, echoing the unbearable pain in his heart. Tears streamed down his face, and he continued to rock back and forth, cradling you against him.
His voice quivered as he muttered, "I'm so sorry, y/n... It's all my fault... I should have told Price… I should have told him…" he breathlessly whispered against your cold cheek. The weight of his regret was crushing, and the burden of knowing that his actions had led to this moment was almost too much to bear.
Simon held your lifeless body in his arms, the weight of your cold form pressing on him physically and emotionally. The room felt suffocating, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and grief. As he cradled you, all he could think about was the what-ifs and the guilt that gnawed at his conscience.
His mind tried to replay the scene of your final moments over and over. The thought that you were in pain, alone, and scared haunted him. He pictured you suffering, reaching out for help, and he wasn't there for you. The echoes of laughter and clinking glasses from the bar where he was drinking seemed deafening in his mind. While he was having drinks with Johnny you were here, alone and dying.
His eyes wandered to the toilet, where he saw your phone lying there. A chilling realization struck him — that missed call he ignored. Did the phone slip from your weakening grasp after calling him for help? Did you wait for a lifeline that never came? Guilt, heavy and consuming, pressed down on him, making every breath a struggle.
In that heartbreaking moment, Simon felt the weight of the consequences of his actions. The regret and sorrow mingled with the deafening silence of your absence, creating a painful symphony of remorse that would echo in his heart forever.
The memory of his last words to you, spoken in anger, haunted him. Those words, "I don't care how you feel," echoed in his mind like a relentless mantra. He wished he could turn back time, go back to that moment, and change everything.
He longed to take back the hurtful words he'd spoken and to be there for you in your time of need. He wished he had never stressed you to the point of pushing you into another miscarriage. But it was too late, and the reality of the consequences of his actions had come crashing down on him.
Grief enveloped him as he clung to your lifeless body, your silence an agonizing reminder of the happiness he had let slip through his fingers. The guilt and regret were insurmountable, and Ghost's world had shattered into a never-ending nightmare of his own making.
Alternative ending
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sujikuna · 11 months
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[ 18+ ] DILF IN JEALOUSY! — TOJI FUSHIGURO
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“hmm, think ya could fuck her or sum?”
SUMMARY. toji fushiguro hates those dumb college boys who can’t leave his pretty baby alone.
DILF COLLECTION. guide . . .
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"i feel like you don't really have a boyfriend, do you?"
you sigh, for the tenth time in the night, he has repeated that same question for the past three hours. you want to go home so badly but you're stuck in a library with this annoying egotistical jerk who has done nothing but get to your nerves.
"im not single, how many times to i have to repeat myself." you glare at him, "now can you fucking focus? for godsakes, i wanna go home." you ranted to him clearly he still didn't give a fuck as he just darted his attention away from you paying attention to whatever catches his eye.
you tap your fingers on the table to get his attention back, "hey, can you please listen to me? so we can both go home." you were offered to tutor him for this semester, you accepted because you were getting paid and you earn extra points if he passes. the only problem is, this asshole does not listen. he did nothing but flirt with you the whole evening. the library is quiet and this is torturing you. "did you even read the book i sent you yesterday?" you asked.
he let out a lazy groan, "nah, it looked boring."
you look at him in disbelief, "then how can y-" you were about to confront him when he cuts you off, "your boyfriend. does he go here? is he a medical student? fine arts? or engineering?"
you had enough of him, "no, he's a grown-ass man with a fucking kid, for heaven's sake will you shut up and listen." his eyebrows furrowed at you, "you know you don't have to lie to reject me, jeez woman." you didn't fight back, it'd be worst. you can't bear him anymore. you just figured to just talk and teach whether his listening or not to get this over with.
after another hour the session was done, "you can leave."
"shall i drive you home?" he offered. you quickly shake your head without looking at him, "no, thank you." he's persistent, "im serious, it's late, your allergic to men or something? if you're that worried send your location to someone."
you think twice, it's 10 in the evening, and it's not very safe for a woman to be alone at night. he's probably the more safer option. so you agreed. just one ride. you told him the name of the building you live in he laughs and told you that it's close to his place. like you cared. he even went on to offer a late-night snack dinner close to your place but you refused to say you were tired. you're lucky he didn't force you on that.
it was a silent car ride while music was playing. you went to your bag to check your phone since you haven't since the afternoon. your lips parted when you saw the notification on your phone, and that's when you realized that you forgot to reply to toji and you forgot to tell toji that you were spending your whole night with a guy he doesn't know of.
21 missed calls and 17 messages.
you quickly called him without thinking about completely forgetting the fact that you were in the car with another man. he answered after three rings.
"wow, i didn't know you knew how to fucking call."
he's mad. uh oh. you bit your lower lip trying to find the right words to answer him.
"i forgot to check, im sorry." you start, "um, what are you doing now? is there a problem?" you tried to change the topic, you even lowered your voice so the guy inside the car with you won't bother. but you're pretty sure he is hearing everything.
you hear him scoff on the other line, "you're asking me? the fuck are you doing? where ya at?"
should you tell the truth? he would know if you lied. but he'll get more angry if he found that another guy is taking you home. "i'm ..." you mumbled, "..um"
"you're mumbling," he said in a monotone.
you sigh, "in the car, right now, um, going home." telling the truth hoping he would calm down. "car? you don't know how to fucking drive." toji states. you roll your eyes, there's no escaping him.
"someone offered a ride," adding, "cause it was late."
"who?"
"someone i know, toji."
"i asked who?" he was not fazed nor impressed by your actions and words.
you bit your lip, hard, before answering, "just a guy from college."
"for fucks sake," he grumbled, "give the bitch the phone."
your eyes widened, no, you look at the guy you were with, and his eyes were focused on the road, you tap his shoulder and he replies with a hmm you then pass him your phone signaling him to take it and talk as you put it on speaker for you to hear. his one hand on the steering wheel and one holding your phone.
"kid, why are you with her?" he didn't even hide the annoyed tone in his voice. the guy replied with a chuckle, "she agreed for me to drive her, can't leave a pretty woman alone in the library at night, can i?" he was teasing toji more, you can tell.
"alone in the library? why the fuck are you two there? ya following her so sum?"
you darted your attention away from them because you felt bad for not updating toji.
"sweet girlfriend didn't tell you?" he glance at you before speaking, "we were together all night actually, sir, have i told you how smart of a girl your woman is?"
oh my goodness he's making it worst.
"give the phone back to her," he ordered, "we'll talk later, looks like you have a lot of stories to tell me." with that he hangs up the phone and you let out a deep sigh in annoyance and embarrassment.
"so, that's the boyfriend?"
you can see your building from here, you arrived, you didn't answer his question but you tell him to drop you off now.
"he's very," he stops for a second making you look at him, "controlling. that's bad for relationship."
you stare at him and scoff, "the fuck do you know?" it was your cue to leave his car. the car didn't drive away till you reach the inside of the building. you really felt tired and just wanna rest. you can't handle toji now.
as the elevator reaches your floor, you walk to your unit, and toji.
toji was leaning against the wall just outside your door. he didn't notice you. he was looking down. how long has he been waiting?
"toji? what are you doing here?"
his attention finally went to you looking up, "oh, the friendly woman is finally here." he mocks you not looking very pleased, he looks sleepless and annoyed.
"im tired, baby, can we just fight tomorrow?"
you feel very sleepy. too tired to say sorry, explain, or whatever. as soon as you open the door you went inside your bedroom and to bed. you feel toji following behind and closing the door.
you feel him lying beside you, "im sleeping here, okay?" he asked for your approval, that's not a very toji thing to do, "why are you asking for consent?" you asked, now eyes close, you couldn't really see what his doing, all you know is that his beside you.
you feel him wrap his arms around you but you were already drifting to sleep, "that's not a very nice thing to do baby," he whispers, what you did, not responding to me all day, and i find out another guy is taking you home and that you spent your whole night with him?" you feel his breath on the back of your neck, "that's not how you become a good girl."
you feel him plant kisses on your shoulders, "but, we'll talk tomorrow."
the next morning you woke up without toji there. you figured his outside since you hear the tv on from the living room. you decided to wash up first before going to him. mentally preparing yourself because you know he'll scold you for last night.
when you go out of the bedroom you find him watching an action movie on netflix while drinking coffee, a newspaper beside him. classic toji. you sat on the couch he was sitting on but not beside him cause he might still be pissed.
"morning babe," you greet him softly and he hums in response, you bit your lip holding up for the correct time to start a conversation, his eyes never leaving the screen, "um, where's megs?"
you start with a small talk, "left him with his mom to check up on you." oh. now you felt bad. it was supposed to be toji's week to take care of megumi. it was a decision made by both parents. they go in an alternate way of parenting.
"are you still mad? im sorry, i should've told you."
"you could've." his gaze went to you, "why are you so far away? sit here." he placed the mug down and signaled you to sit in his lap which you immediately do so. he planted a kiss on your forehead when you were comfortably sitting on him, "so, tell me about it."
he's asking about yesterday.
"he, um," you start, thinking about how to say it without any misunderstandings, "he's failing, badly, and he needs help, the prof said that if i can help him pass i gain extra points in the final grading and they're paying me to do it."
"so?" he wasn't satisfied with that answer he wanted to know why you agreed for him to take you home, "you couldn't call me to pick you up. you let a dumb boy take you home? is that it?"
"im sorry," you pout, "it was late, i forgot to call you and i thought that it was safer for me to go with him rather than take the bus this late." you explain.
"this bitch like you?"
well, he did try, is it still relevant to tell him? you think. toji doesn't look angry. he just wants to know if anybody hits on what’s his. “i told him several times that i had a boyfriend!” without even saying it first you defended yourself in an instant, you don’t wanna look bad to him. 
 “so he did.” toji leans back, “you seeing him again?” you think first remembering how it was supposed to be two sessions, “we have one more session before exams,” telling him honestly. 
“too bad, you can’t go.” his not asking or pleading with you to not go, his telling you you’re not going. “hate it so much when they think they can get you.” his hands softly caressed your face. “you get me?” 
 you nod in response, “good, tell em now your ass is not seeing him.” 
 you sent your prof a message that you won’t be able to attend and teach the guy because of personal reasons. 
 after a long week of exams and school, you can finally rest. toji knew you were tired. so he promised to take you out to dinner after everything is done as a reward.
he booked a table at a very fancy restaurant. very much like toji.
“i gotta go to the bathroom, sweets.” he suddenly lets you know as your lips curve to a smile letting him know that it’s okay.
into five minutes of toji being gone, you play with your food in boredom. you feel someone touch your shoulders assuming it’s toji you tilt your head to look at the person.  
"haven't seen you in a minute." 
oh god, it's him. the annoying college boy. 
 you glare at him, "my boyfriend's here." 
"where?" he mocks you and laughs sitting at the chair across from you where toji was at 5 minutes earlier. “i failed the exam you taught me, ms. tutor.” he starts, “you didn’t come to our next session, kinda offended.” 
your forehead furrowed, “that’s my fault?” 
“i guess bitches are not very good at being tutors.” he throws an insult and for the next 3 minutes you try to shoo him away but he wouldn’t budge. it was after those minutes toji’s big presence filled the room. “didn’t tell me you invited someone.” 
toji sat on the chair beside you giving you a questioning look and you shrug at him telling him that you have no idea why the man is there. toji kisses his teeth, his attention turning to the man giving him a smile, “ya got a head, kid?" 
the man scowls at toji feeling attacked, “i'm not a kid." 
“you always know how to bother people,” your boyfriend starts, “hmm, think ya could fuck her or sum?" he continues shortly laughing, your eyes widened at his words. vulgar.  
“why don’t we try? maybe then she’ll have a good reason to leave your old ass.” the men fought back. now smiling taunting toji. 
toji raised a brow, “that so? should i tell you something? ya know this woman right here can’t even suck half of my dick if i don’t shove it inside.” you look down shutting your eyes in embarrassment but you felt toji’s eyes laid on you for a second. your eyes open and widened when his hands grip your legs moving up towards your core. “something wrong, sweets?” he asked looking and acting dumb-folded.
you try to grab his hands attempting to stop him because of the humiliation but he smacks them pushing them away. "behave now, sweets." he whispers his eyes fix on the man facing him. 
he didn't stop there, "ya wanna know her favorite position?"
you feel his hands push your panties to the side to touch your core. he starts messaging and caressing it while talking to the man, you only bit your lips to stop the moans that want to leave your mouth. 
"this is the way you treat kids? sir? an old man trying to fuck with a 20-year-old." he jeers at toji resting his head on the palm of his hand his showing him the lack of respect he has for him as an older man, "that sounds kinda dumb, don't you think?" he adds. 
you grip the side of your chair when toji pushes two fingers in. he hasn't even moved them yet but his fingers were huge that your clenching so much already. you can taste blood on your lips from how hard you're biting them. 
"god, i wanna punch the sense out of you." toji starts moving his fingers, he starts slow, but it didn't last because his pace gets quicker every second to the point where juices leak out of your pussy, "it's really funny how your face is as big as my arm." 
you feel like cumming, you try to hold it. it'll be messy and you still have dinner to finish. toji is not cooperating. he knows that it's too much but for toji there's no such thing as too much when it comes to him fucking you, whether it's his fingers or his dick. he stopped to move his fingers to massage your clit with his thumb allowing you to calm down but he didn't pull out his fingers yet.
"im better than you." the boy states he sounding annoyed and offended by toji. his finger form to a fist. it was a public place. if he knew better he wouldn't start a fight here, you know toji is just taunting and teasing him. 
"pretty boy is annoyed now?" toji throws another gibe at him, "i hear you bothered her again, it'll be my fist kissing your face, now walk away kiddo" his lips curve to an unbothered smirk, and he leans back giving the boy a serious look, toji was territorial. the man took the call and accepted defeat when he stands up and walks away with an annoyed frown displayed on his face.
it was then that he started thrusting his fingers again turning his head to face you, "am i doing it right?" you don't know what he meant, you just know that you wanna scream right now and you can't stay still anymore. you couldn't talk back anymore you just felt something building up in your stomach, toji knows you're about to cum, he knows you so well.
"shush, it's okay," he assures you, "you can cum." he enjoys how you try hard to stop the pretty noises you usually make. he enjoys seeing you suffer under him. he never stops fingering you until you reach your limit, he never cared where you were or how the situation is. not being able to take it anymore, you let out a quiet moan when you came, it was enough for toji to hear. 
he pulls out his fingers and licks them, making you look at him in disgust, "oh my god toji!"
"what? can't take my baby's juices now?" his lashes fluttered, "you came so much with just two fingers baby." toji adds, "now, shall we take this to the bathroom or the car?"
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a/n: i promised!!!
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roturo · 8 months
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COOL WITH YOU - gojo satoru x f!reader - + 4.5k words
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summary: You never though throwing chocolate milk would lead you to being enemies with the popular guy at school, which led you into even a crazier situation.
warnings: smut; unprotected sex, cock warming, dacryphilia, pussy slapping, mating press, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), marking, degradation kink, slut shaming, edging, teasing, sexual tension, overstimulation. Enemies into idk into lovers. UniversityAU, popular student!gojo satoru, fluff.
TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK.
It was a really nice day, really.
Nothing out of the extraordinary, normal classes, normal notes, everything was going great! Nice weather, and even your hair was having a good day!, but lunch time had to come.
You were walking through the cafeteria looking for the table you and your friends usually sit at. Walking with your tray through other people, you were about to make it, until you stumbled and say stumbled for crashed into an almost 2 meter man, food flying everywhere, and if that wasn't enough, your choco milk made a mess on his white t-shirt.
WHY DOESN'T HE WEAR THE COMPLETE UNIFORM?
You felt all the possible stares into you, couldn't even see with who you crashed, way too embarrassed for it. Mumbling a lot of 'sorry, i'm going to pay it for you' 'I can wash it for you, i'm so sorry.' 'I'll buy you a new one.'  You finally looked up and saw who it was.
Gojo Satoru. The popular guy in school. Might not be the smartest, but he has good grades. Not much of a troublemaker (he is), has dated at-least half of the girls in this school, and someway he still has a line of girls waiting for his turn.
He was next his best-friend. Suguru Geto, smartest guy in your class, he's more peaceful, just watches from a distance, a cute smirk,  hasn't dated half of the girls in school, but still has a long line of girls waiting for a chance.
Your face flushed with embarrassment as she saw that the dark liquid from your spilled bottle had stained his pristine white shirt. Gojo's expression was anything but pleased, and he snapped at you, "Watch where you're going dumbass!"
You tried to apologize, but Gojo had clearly made up his mind about you. From that day on, Gojo wouldn't miss any chance to humiliate you just like you did that day in the cafeteria.
He wouldn't let go of that day, calling you all types of nicknames related to it. ¨Milkie¨ ¨Choco-latte¨ and much more. Mostly throwing your books you had in your arms walking through the halls, always putting milk on your desk when recess was done.
He would often challenge you with difficult questions in class, and you would slowly find yourself doing the same. Days went over and you were now annoyed at his behavior. Who does he think he is? He couldn't treat people like he wanted to!
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¨Can you stop?¨ Utahime stopped eating, dramatically putting the fork down. ¨Stop what?¨
¨Stop looking at fucking Gojo Satoru! It’s been like two months and you’re still annoyed at him.¨ 
Oh god. He's looking back at your table, Utahime said it loud enough so half of the cafeteria could hear. Feeling your face growing hot you looked back at your friend, her face showing how unbothered she is by the annoyed side-eyes you guys were receiving.
¨It's like you got obsessed with him or something! All you do is talk about him, how angry you are about him, how he did this, how he did that, do you like HIM or what?¨
¨Of course NO! I don't like Gojo-...¨
A small cough interrupted the small discussion you were having, looking up for the person who annoyingly stopped you trying to justify why you don't like the Gojo Satoru, was in fact, the Gojo Satoru.
He was standing in all glory in front of your table with his best friend, Geto, which seemed kinda unbothered with this whole ordeal.
You looked like a little kid being caught trying to grab another candy from the bowl after he got his daily one... which made Gojo chuckle.
How cute.
¨I'm sorry ladies for interrupting your chat, but me, and my friend Geto Suguru, wanted to invite you to our upcoming party this weekend. Right Suguru?¨ He nudged Geto, with his annoying smirk, at what Geto just nodded.
You were about to deny the offer, saying you’re not one of his easy girls to smash with, but Utahime was faster than you and said yes to the invitation and lent her phone so they could send her the place and time.
Oh, well, fuck.
Utahime greeted you into her house with her radiant smile, her eyes shining with mischief. "I would’ve killed you if you didn’t come!" she exclaimed, pulling you into her room. "Tonight, you’re going to have a great fuck and forget that annoying asshole!" You rolled your eyes because of her assumption of you liking Gojo. 
Utahime couldn't resist the thrill of the invitation, saying it’s ¨an event you have to live at least once at uni.¨ You spent hours preparing yourselves. Mostly, Utahime carefully choosing the perfect outfit and a dash of confidence to match. 
You and Utahime arrived at the party, the room buzzed with laughter, music, and vibrant conversations. You’ve been spending the whole night thinking of a way to take revenge on Gojo, and show Utahime proof you don’t like him. You have tried plenty of ways; winning at sports games, not a surprise he’s better than you, but it still pisses you off how irritating he is. You also tried beating him at exams, which somehow you did beat him on them, but somehow he gets more acknowledgment about having a 9 than you having a 10?
Does he fuck the teacher too?
Fuck.
Fuck…
Fuck!
That’s what you need! To fuck Gojo Satoru.
Not in that way…
Well, yes. But not him fucking you. You fucking him.
His whole ego is based on how every girl likes him, so… what if you do what he does to the other girls?
Geto greeted the both of you with a smile, offering you something to drink, which you denied, contrary to Utahime. You were having a small chat with your friend and a friend of hers, she was really nice, short haired, not that tall but not that short, she's a friend of Satoru & Suguru apparently… a pretty smile adorning her face while talking with Utahime, her name was Shoko.
And Shoko is really fun, really, but you couldn’t stop from distracting yourself, eyes following the tall frame, going from girl to girl all around the house. It infuriated you how they could be so clueless of the man they’re talking with.
You decided you needed to distract yourself and stop focusing on what he’s doing. Entering the kitchen was really calm, two people chatting while drinking. Preparing yourself a drink, you felt a small push in your shoulder, and it’s like destiny made you to never stop thinking about him, since somehow he was always there.
¨Oops, didn’t see you there.¨ His stupid face, with his stupid smirk.
¨Can’t stop disturbing me for one minute in your entire life?!¨
¨Me? Disturb you? You’re the one who won't stop looking at the other like some obsessed stalker!¨
¨Well, it’s not my fault you keep fooling those girls thinking if they let you fuck them they will be with you at least more than a week before you get bored!¨
He laughed at you, which only made you even angrier. ¨Are you jealous or what?¨
¨I’m not jealous- … don’t. Don’t you dare look at me that way.¨
¨What way?¨
¨Like you want to fuck me.¨
The tension in the room grew stronger, his stupid eyes were having pleasure watching you being angry at him being with other girls. You’re really pretty too, he never took the time to realize that. Maybe it's your fault because of the grembling face you put when you’re around him.
Thank god Suguru came into the room giving you a way out of this situation, calling for Satoru and you.
¨Hey, we need both of you to help us with something back there, Utahime and Shoko are there also. Utahime is really nice, but uhh… she might gotten a little too much drunk…¨
"Do we have to bring her?¨ Gojo said, pointing back at you with his thumb, not even looking at you, just at Geto. ¨You know I hate her." 
¨Yes Satoru, it’s her friend who we are talking about.¨
"I'm standing right here, you know..." 
"I know." You were about to hit Satoru if it wasn’t that Geto didn’t grab the both of you by the wrist and started walking away.
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After leaving a very drunk Utahime in Geto’s room, Shoko staying with her, the two other boys (Most like Geto) invited you to go for some midnight ice-cream around the corner, at which, you had nothing to do, so you accepted the offer, who wouldn’t want ice-cream for free?
The three of you got your ice-cream, you were with Satoru while Suguru was paying for them.
¨Your ice cream looks delicious, let me try.¨
¨We have the exact same ice cream, for god’s sake!¨ Satoru was faster than you and gave a big bite (with no teeth) to your ice-cream, you grumbled at his stubbornness.
¨Hey, no fair! You have more sprinkles than mine!¨ You looked up at his face, finding ice-cream all around his lips. Unconsciously your hand caressed his cheek and with your thumb, you wiped the ice-cream off his mouth. Your finger resting on his lower lip, he slightly opened his mouth giving enough space for your thumb to enter, which it did. His tongue swirled around it, savoring the ice-cream he stole from you. Your eyes never left his and vice versa. His cheeks were slightly pink, his eyes were now a darker shade of blue thanks to his dilated pupils.
His hands found a way to lock between your waist, making you get closer to him. Your thumb left his mouth and slowly got into his chest. He smiled at you. A genuine smile from him. Not an evil trace on it. His eyes squinted a little, which made you also smile. 
¨Can y’all believe the old man wanted me to pay for an extra ice-cream we didn’t buy? I stayed like 10 min more trying to explain him we only bought 3.¨
Your face turned pale, as fast as you could, you pushed yourself out of Gojo’s embrace, he awkwardly coughed fixing his hair.
¨Are you guys okay?¨ Suguru looked confused but then looked at you and your melted ice-cream.
¨Oh shit. It melted. Your eyes locked with Satoru for a moment and moved on to the melted ice-cream. Did that really happen?
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A week passed and Gojo couldn’t get you off his mind. The moment replaying every day, the feeling of your hand on his cheek never leaving. He was going crazy. 
Ever since Utahime and Shoko got closer, that meant hanging out as a group. It somehow got better? Gojo stopped with the bitterness and the hate towards you, it turned more into teasing?, it’s like he’s been feeling cool with you?
 It even turned into the both of you teasing each-other light heartly, it was fun.
During a late-night study session at Shoko’s,  you and Gojo got into argument from some science topic, you could sense the others were annoyed at the unnecessary pause of studying, leading them into grabbing their phones to go through social media, going for water, or even just start making small drabbles of drawings, knowing they couldn’t do anything about the both of you arguing because of your stubbornness.
Until Utahime snapped, ¨Oh my god, can the both of you just fuck so the tension could leave?!¨ that left the both of you speechless and blankly looking at eachother, red invaded eachother’s face because of how things turned out and how others point of view of the type of relationship the two of you have.
...
... Your walk home was… awkward but nice?
¨Listen. It’s nearing midnight and you're a female walking the streets alone, at least let me walk you home? As much as you annoy me I’d rather you not get murdered¨ You take in his words slowly nodding in agreement as you cross your arms, ¨fine.. nice to hear that you don’t want me dead.¨
So that’s how the both of you ended walking together to your house. It was a weird bonding experience you didn’t think you needed.
¨Wow you can actually be a sweetheart this time, what happened to the boy who was arguing with me today is pluto is still considered a planet?¨
You say lightheartedly but turn to glare in his direction anyway, watching as he rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle.
¨Yeah that was pretty immature. to be fair we’re just as bad as each other ̈
You nodded in agreement it really is a game of back and forth trying to outdo each other. You felt a sudden wetness on your face sticking your hand out and watching as your palms filled with water capturing the rain droplets within, the rain poured without any mercy but thankfully you could see your house just a little down the street, with the nice moment you were having with Gojo you bravely grabbed his hand with a giggle making a bolt towards your house, to your surprise Gojo tightened his grip running beside you as the rain soaked you both.
Catching your breaths as you stood on your porch, sheltering yourselves from the rain, breathlessly laughing as you straightened yourself looking up at Gojo who was just as drenched.
¨Who saw that coming?¨ He smiles pulling lightly on your hand that still stayed secured in his, you were only inches away from each other but the cool breeze and crackling of the thunder held a mysterious mood that drew you into him.
In what should have been forbidden your lips touched, tasting the water that ran along your face seeping into your mouth as you reconnected with Gojo’s pretty lips, it didn’t last long as a large gust of wind interrupted causing you to shiver and unintentionally find comfort in Gojo, pressing against his chest. You could feel his hand rubbing gently against your upper back as he stared down calmly, you finally pulled away from him jiggling with your front door and popping it open with just a twist of your key, frowning your eyebrows slightly as you turn to look at the soaking wet boy again watching him turn towards the rain and stepping closer as if he was about to make a run for it.
¨You don’t have to leave.. it looks pretty hectic out there, i can dry your clothes and you can leave when it’s safer, if that’s what you want?¨ Gojo seemed conflicted a hint of hesitation could be seen but his expression was mostly unreadable, he took one last look out towards the street before turning on his heels, walking into your house with a smile, ¨That seems like a better idea.. thanks.¨
You really didn’t know what you were thinking letting Gojo into your house but it felt right, ¨Your... hoodie¨, you say holding your hand out towards him.¨I can put it in the dryer¨ Gojo paused for a moment looking down, his lips shaping into a straight line as his cheeks puffed out. ¨I’m not wearing an undershirt¨ You let out a light oh before making your way into the laundry room, ¨here! You can throw a towel over yourself if you feel uncomfortable!¨ You yell out to him, turning around to be greeted with Gojo’s bare chest, ¨It’s fine I don’t need a towel¨ He plainly says handing you his hoodie, you quickly nod taking it and heading over to the dryer.
¨What about my pants?¨ You hear him say as you open the lid. ¨What about them?¨ You question turning around to see his slightly wet jeans, ¨They’re not that wet but I can do them too.. got that towel?¨, Gojo let’s out a chuckle unzipping his jeans.
¨I’m not going to be naked, I do have underwear on after all, do you want me to wear a towel?¨ You went silent slowly extending your arm and making a gimme motion with your hand, ¨I don’t care it’s your decision¨, you say sounding a bit flustered, looking away nervously Gojo stripped himself of his jeans leaving him in his underwear. You throw his clothes into the dryer freezing suddenly before closing the lid, realising your own saturated clothes as you played with the hem of your shirt, “fuck it”, you whispered ripping your top from over your head, your pants following in hot pursuit letting them join in with Gojo’s clothes.
The dryer light blinked on watching as the session started not daring to turn around as you knew Gojo was still very much present, feeling a sense of embarrassment as you stood away from him semi nude, the only thing you didn’t know is that he was much closer than you thought feeling his hand smooth over your arm a slight tingling sensation could be felt as he pressed up against your bare back, ¨Aren’t you cold?¨, he said sliding his mouth near your ear, you slowly nodded feeling your words getting stuck in your throat, ¨I mean no, not really¨ You crackled out quickly correcting yourself, your whole body was heating up as the butterflies in your stomach did multiple backflips, ¨Well I am baby¨, you let out a rigid breath feeling your pussy contract within itself at the sudden nickname, you had no idea he could make you feel this way, ¨How are you gonna get warm?¨ You softly breathe out goosebumps arising from your skin as Gojo rubbed up and down your sides placing a few kisses against your neck, ¨I have an idea if you’d spread your legs a little?¨ You obeyed his words like a dog, running on your own horny adrenaline.
¨Are you okay with this?¨ You nodded, feelin his fingers come in contact with your pussy pushing your panties to the side as he swiped his pointer finger through your folds, he stopped clutching his hands roughly on your hips, his forehead laying on your shoulder blade.
¨How? You’re so wet, I barely even touches you.¨ Gojo said sensually pulling your hips towards him as he rubbed his hard against your ass, ¨I thought I’d have to do a little more but I think this is enough.. ready?¨
He kissed up your back adjusting himself a bit, ¨Ready?... for what?-¨, You struggled to say the last syllables as Gojo pushed the tip of his cock into you wrapping an arm around your waist and the other holding onto the dryer in front of you, pulling you upwards so he can angle your entrance just right so he can fully fit into you comfortably.
A gasp escaped you quickly holding onto the side of his thigh as he stayed still, the feeling of his long cock deep inside you made you wriggle pulling your heat away from him as he replants himself, the heat off Gojo’s chest and stomach burned into your back, ¨Now that’s warm¨, Gojo spoke, ¨And it’s tight too¨, He slightly giggled out resting his head on your shoulder.
¨Is it uncomfortable?¨ He quietly spoke in concernment Gojo’s worries fading as he finally feels you melting into him, ¨No it’s good¨ You say sheepishly feeling the slight shake of his arm as he continued to hold onto the dryer, another kiss being littered against your upper back upon hearing you.
It’s beyond weird getting this intimate with him but there always was some lingering sexual tension though. Nothing is really happening as you both stood in silence while Gojo kissed your body, leaving hickeys everywhere. Your body temperatures rising quickly but soon you started to feel Gojo’s movements, he awkwardly pumped himself into you stopping and starting his motions as he fought his urges, ¨Satoru?... If you’re going to fuck me just do it, this is nice and all but I know what we both want¨
You say trying to look at the boy who was still resting his head on your shoulder, you saw him perk up displaying a gummy like smile, ¨If that’s what you want who am I to deny you?¨
He jolted you forward banging you flat against the dryer giving you a sharp thrust as he grabbed a hold of your hair, bringing you back so he could kiss you, ¨You really want your enemy fucking you? Want everyone to know how of a cockslut you are? That Utahime was right? filthy.¨ 
You hum in pleasurable agreement a cheeky giggle escaping you as Gojo tilts your head to the side giving himself access to your neck, ¨Enemy? Do you really want to be calling yourself that when you started this? I think you’ve always wanted to do this, you love me¨ You say daringly, feeling incredibly unsatisfied as he pulled himself out of you spinning you around and finally coming face-to-face with him, Gojo’s hair now completely dry but nothing changed about his smirk.
¨You don’t need this” He unclips your bra way too easily wiggling it in front of your face like a trophy
“Don’t try putting this act on me, you’ve wanted my dick ever since you met me, those looks you don't give them to everyone.. probably why you love me so much ̈ You push him away playfully, covering your breasts and snatching your bra from him attempting to walk passed, Gojo re-attaches himself to you pulling you into a back hug as he kisses you roughly, biting your lower lip dragging slightly out making you whine.
“Don’t be stubborn, the laundry room is nice but why don’t you show me the bedroom?” You lean into him with a satisfied smile spreading across your face as you had every intention in bringing him to your bed, ¨Where do you think I’m taking you?¨
Nothing was stopping you, both fully naked in bed as Gojo’s face found refuge in between your legs licking up and down your slit and sucking on your sensitive clit, making infinity signs between them, holding your thighs apart to stop you from caging him in with each spasm of your body, “I’m gonna-“, you moaned out Gojo humming at your words removing his mouth from your heat and licking his two fingers as he dives them straight into your soaking pussy pumping in and out, “You’re gonna what?” He smirks, making a gesture of using his free hand to put on his ear to sign like he didn’t listen to you. Watching as you gasp at the sudden intrusion his smirk grew larger. ¨Oh! There! Satoru please I-¨
He stopped, smiling proudly and taking in your watery eyes, his smile soon turning into a sarcastic pout, ¨Aw, that’s cute¨ He laughed, pushing you flat against the bed as you leaned up to try and hit him, him being faster slapping your pussy.
¨Oh stop it! you’ll get what you want later slut, look what you’ve done to me¨ He looks down at his hard and angry cock begging for attention, rolling his fingers around his shaft as he covers his member in your juices.
¨Open your legs wider” Gojo hovers above you angling himself at your cunt, finally slipping back into your wet cunt, wasting no time in hammering into you giving you no chance in preparing for his speed, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck as he mercilessly rocks you back and forth but as Gojo lifted each of your legs up putting you into a mating press, which made the thrusters even go deeper inside you, turning you into a beautiful moaning mess.¨Ah! Look at you, you’re beautiful¨
Gojo groans out closing his eyes and throwing his head back in an attempt not to bust, picking up the pace as he fucks you raw diving his face into your neck as he concentrates feeling his heavy panting on your neck.
¨Don’t stop this time¨ You barely get out feeling your body getting to it’s highest point again, your back arching immediately as Gojo’s fingers had sneakily approached your clit rubbing your clit at lightning speed. You couldn’t breathe your legs spasming out and clenching around Gojo so hard he could barely move, your moans turning into a pleasurable scream as you reached your orgasm falling limp as you continued to pulsate around Gojo’s cock. 
He isn’t done yet. Taking in sharp breaths as he chases after his own high, you whine slightly from sensitivity but you weren’t going to stop him, thrusting a few more times till he pulls out in quickly, pumping himself in his hand as he aims his load on your stomach, moaning sweetly as he shoots his cum all over your lower half swiping his thumb over his head picking up some of the white substance and shoving it into your slightly agape mouth, ¨How does it taste sweetheart?¨ You start sucking his thumb without any hesitation making a loud popping sound as you pull his hand away.¨Delicious¨, you smile. 
With a satisfied chuckle Gojo collapsed onto your bed watching as he reached for anything to help clean yourself up with, ¨I don’t regret doing that you know…¨ He quickly says as he wiped up his mess, ¨I would’ve preferred if you cum somewhere a little less messy¨ You raised an eyebrow, ¨I meant having sex with you.. I’d do it again¨ You smiled, feeling the excitement run through you with just the thought of having sex with Gojo again ¨I’d like that too¨ He went a little quiet intensely watching you, getting closer to you, his lips crashed yours. This time it wasn’t rushed at all, he was moving his lips slowly, capturing every moment of it. Taking a small moment to breathe, he started kissing you again, then giving small pecks all around your face which made you giggle. He finally stopped with getting himself around your arms, cuddling you. 
He called out your name at which you just answered with a small sound out of tiredness. 
¨I think I love you.¨
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lazywriters-blog · 2 months
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QUIET + QUIET = NAUGHTY
YANDERE ALHAITHAM
Summary: Alhaitham used to be your mentor, and after leaving him behind and pursuing another career, he finds a way to bind you to him. [This was sitting in my drafts for so long that I decided to just publish it so if it's bad, my bad lol.]
Warning: This may contain triggering content, read at your discretion. Implied rape, forced pregnancy, and manipulation. Alhaitham is a piece of shit in this-
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You had a dream that didn't feel like one.
Your mind is clear and you remember something was amiss the night you fell asleep, so you are certain whatever glimpse you recall was truthful. You could never imagine yourself having a wet dream about someone you disapproved of.
Despite the man's appearance attracting you to him, there's just something about him you don't like. Perhaps sitting here and watching him read his book made you a crazed fangirl, but you were a decent human being with decent expectations.
And alhaitham was one exception you'd avoid till the end, even with the tolerance level you had, he went past above and beyond that.
Seeing him so far away from you felt odd, having a realistic dream was different but feeling it and knowing you felt it was different! You couldn't make up such fantasies even if you wanted to. You did not invite him into your dreamland and never would, he's the type of man with stoic feelings and selfishness with good reasons for it.
You also had a hate-love relationship with the scribe, he's an asshole who nagged you to do everything perfectly when you were in front of him and made you feel unqualified. You'd admit you weren't good, but the humiliation was taking it a bit too far when he'd speak loud and clear for everyone to hear and think about it.
You aren't a failed test subject to show.
Nonetheless, you had forgotten about it and moved on to a better place in life, so his abrupt existence was cutting it too close.
But, trying to talk to him just seemed wrong. Comforting him seemed childish, and unnecessary when you could live on with the fact you had a wet dream about him, but past that, he's close to an enemy to you.
He closed his book and settled it on the table, folding his arms and glancing straight toward you, so he knew you were here. Copying his position you glared, feeling something nasty within you grow and you had no shame in expressing that to the man.
Grinning wide, you tilted your head and quietly mouthed 'Fuck you.' briefly pulling up your hand and pointing a middle finger, throwing him one last look you got up and walked away.
If that incident earned you a bad reputation, you knew exactly who was behind it.
The next sign you discovered that your dream wasn't as fake as you made it out to be, was when you woke up nauseous and threw up, you figured it was a mash of bad food combination that made you queasy.
And denial was hard, how were you going to explain it even if it was true? 'I think it has something to do with the wet dream I had with my enemy and I think I'm pregnant?' just thinking about it you feel delusional you couldn't fathom how crazy you would sound to the others, you weren't lost in the head.
You had your toes on solid ground and weren't making stuff up on thin air, nor because you were living alone and thinking having a new member would cure it.
You'd never be that desperate.
"You are showing clear symptoms of pregnancy." He's saying it and you don't like the tone of his voice, he's saying it to get revenge for your past interaction, you are sure.
"Your skin is glowing, and the bump you are trying to hide isn't doing much," he added, like salt to a wound. You forced a smile, thinking to yourself that staying indoors today would have been so much better than facing him in all his selfish glory.
"And would you happen to know who did it?" You sniped back, "How do you even know that I've gotten fat unless you've been watching me, pervert, learn to lower your eyes."
"It shouldn't take a genius to know that a woman is carrying a child. It's a blessing you're hiding."
"You're saying it as if it's your child." she would know after years of suffering under him, that he would make her the fool and him the trustworthy one, and she didn't want to give him a chance. So if he wants to play dumb, she'll cut him open.
He chuckled, a rare gesture from him she saw only once, "Should we have a paternity test?" why did he sound so smug and certain?
"Is this your indirect way of saying that I'm crazy? That you impregnated me?" he stayed quiet and satisfied, all the trouble he was causing her and the damage it would bring to her reputation was unnerving, he was doing it on purpose. She was sure!!
"You are a monster." She could strangle him right now if they weren't in public.
He smiled, not breaking eye contact and continuing to maintain it. "Who would believe you?"
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eyeballpussy · 2 months
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"That Boy is A Monster" - Luke Castellan x Ares!Fem!Reader
Content Warnings - hate sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), making out/kissing, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), cream pie, Luke is an asshole, cursing, some angst, Luke is a bitch, Luke is probably very ooc, use of y/n, lmk if I missed anything!
y'all don't be mad at me if Luke is extremely out of character, Ive only watched to movies and tv show 😭
lowercase bc I'm lazy
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You sat across from him at the dinner tables. you knew you shouldn't have dated within your own friend group. now you have to sit across from the worst man ever for another two months. you were zoned out completely, tuning everything around you out, until.... "do you have anything, y/n?" you head snapped up to look at the person talking to you. you could barely hear but knew it was a boy. looking around you see that its Percy, the newest kid here. "huh? what?" you asked, not knowing what he was talking about.
"do you have any advice relating to camp?" Percy asked you. you looked around and thought for a minute. "one, don't start shit if you can't end it and two, don't date." you shot Luke a sharp look after speaking, but he was already looking at you. you scanned over his face, looking at his smug expression. you hated him. you were 99% sure Percy didn't know about you and Lukes history together and you planned to keep it that way.
you finished your dinner and went back to your cabin, you had found a new book recently that you'd been enjoying. surprisingly you were the only one in the cabin. you walked to your bed to grab the book but it wasn't there. "where the hell is it?" you mumbled to yourself. you tore up your bed sheets looking for it but still couldn't find where you'd put it. "looking for something?" a familiar voice calls out to you, Luke. you tuned to look at him and there he was, book in hand, leaning against the cabin door frame, looking horrifyingly beautiful. "give it back." you demanded. "woah easy, girl" he said, his low voice vibrated through you head like a melody. you hated him so much but god was he beautiful.
"Luke, give it back now." you harshly said. you hadn't talked to him since your break up a year ago. he stood up straight, no longer leaning. "you know, I think Chiron would be pretty upset if I showed him that you had a book like this tucked under your pillow." he said, flipping through the pages. he began walking towards you, his face coming more into view. he got dangerously close to you, about half an arms length away. you looked up at him, "give me my fucking book back, Luke." you couldn't tell if you wanted to punch him in his fucking face or sit on his lap and aggressively make out with him.
"why does someone so pretty have to be such a bitch?" he softly said, reaching a hand up to tuck your hair behind you ear. his words angered you and turned you on at the same time. a million emotions raced though your head. "is there something else you want, Luke?" you asked him as if you didn't know. "oh I think we both know what I want." he tossed the book to the floor and placed his hands on your hips, tugging them closer to him.
your faces were merely inches apart, you could feel his breath against your face. your arms wrapped around his neck. "gods I fucking hate you." your lips smashed onto his. he immediately kissed back. you sat down on your bed dragging him with you, leaving him onto of you.
his tounge explored you mouth like it had many times before. his hands were moving all across your body. your thighs, waist, chest, face, nothing was left untouched. he pulled away from you for air. "you sure?" he put his lips back on yours, harsher than before. his knee moved to part your legs and rub your, now sensitive, clit. the friction made you moan into his mouth. but it wasn't enough for him. he rubbed his knee harder on you, pulling away from your mouth to watch your face.
your hands gripped onto his arms and you threw you head back. you were so sensitive, too sensitive. it had been too long. his knee stopped moving but kept the same amount of pressure. "Luke.." you begged. almost like he didn't hear you, his hands moved up to grope your chest. your hips bucked against his knee, it was agonizing. "tell me what you want." he demanded. "you know what I want." you told him, too embarrassed to say what your truly wanted, his mouth on your pussy.
"do it or I'm walking out." he threatened. you questioned why you even wanted him to stay in the first place. "Luke, please.." you begged "please what?" he knew what he was doing, the smirk on his face was proof. "please eat me out...." you whispered. "sorry what way that?" you show him a look then repeated a little louder. "please eat me out." it was barely above a whisper. "one more time?" he teased. "Luke." gods he was annoying. "okay okay" he said as if he actually cared.
He removed his knee from between your legs, you whined at the loss. he moved down the bed to he could take of your jeans. you lifted your ass up so he could get them off. you didn't realize till the cold air hit that he'd taken off you underwear as well. he spread your legs, taking in the view of your soaked cunt. "You know, for someone who hates me, you're awfully wet." you muttered a quick "fuck off" but he didn't say anything. instead, his head dipped down to your cunt, licking a long stripe up and landing on your clit.
his warm mouth enveloped your clit. you moaned way too loud for your liking. he began sucking, and gods was he good at it. he knew you inside and out, it was almost concerning how much he remembered. He moved down to tongue fuck your cunt. His long was long and thick. It made your toes curl and your hands moved to grip his curls.
He pulled away for a second, which felt like days, but your cunt was soon filled again with his long fingers. He solid them in without warning. He paused to let you adjust a bit. His fingers started at a fast pace, barely giving you room to breathe. Your moans got louder by the second. He looked proud when you saw his face.
He moved back down to suck your clit. It was too much. Your back arched so much it hurt. Your fingers tugged harshly on his hair and you heard him moan. “Did you just fucking moan?” You asked, voice breaking and moaning after each word. “Shut up” he mumbled, his voice sending vibrations straight to your clit.
Your moans and pleads echoed throughout the Ares cabin. Gods you were lucky no one was in here. A tight coil started to form in your stomach. He had turned you into a moaning mass at this point. All you could say was his name. Repeating it over and over and over again.
The coil was getting so tight, too tight. “Please.. don’t stop..!” You begged. He looked up at you for a second and somehow his fingers went faster. You almost screamed. You were so close. He kept going until it snapped. Your toes curled and you back arched. You screamed and shoved his head into your pussy. Your hands griped his hair so hard you swear you pulled out a few strands.
He sat back up and you could see in the yellow light that his face was absolutely drenched. “Holy shit, I-I’m sorry” you breathed heavily, still coming down from your high. You didn’t know you were apologizing but you did anyways. “Don’t worry” he chuckled, “this is the best part.” He said. You blushed a faint red.
You closed your eyes to focus on your breathing.After a couple seconds, you heard him unbuckle his belt. You opened your eyes. He pulled his pants and boxers down at the same time. His dick was fully hard and sprung out of its its confinement.
His left hand pumped his cock slowly while his right spread your legs farther apart. He maneuvered you body to your knees being by your head. He guided his cock to your hole, his tip prodding at you entrance. “Is this still okay?” He asked. You nodded your head.
He slid in and stoped. His tip was the only thing in you but you felt so full. He continued pushing himself in. His girth was already to much. He bottomed out inside you and gave you time to adjust. Your nails dug crescent moons into his upper arms.
He began to move slowly inside you. You both had breathy moans coming out of your mouths. “Luke..! Please…” you wanted him to go faster. He knew what you wanted. He knew everything you want from him when it came to sex. He picked up his pace and leaned his body into yours.
His groans and moans were almost as loud as yours. Your brain was going numb. His dick going in and out of you at such a fast pace was godly. He paused to readjust himself. You whined and begged for him to keep going.
He started again but he was harsher. His hips snapped into yours. Your moans were music to his ears. He angled his hips up and he found your g-spot. Your screamed. You didn’t know how to react to it. He looked shocked for a moment but started up again. He made it his mission to hit your spot with every thrust. It was too much. The overstimulation felt so good and bad all at once.
“Holy fuck..” he moaned. You cunt righted on him. You were so close. His cock continued to ram in and out of you at an impossible pace. You could tell he was getting close. His thrusts got sloppier and his moans got louder. His hands gripped tightly to the headboard and you hips and his eyebrows furrowed .
“Y-y/n fuck…” he groaned. You both were so close. You were a moaning mess. The only thing you could think about was him and his cock fucking into you.
You came with a scream. You clamped down on his cock and he came too. He thrusted softly a few more times then pulled out. You both sat there heavily breathing trying to calm down. he sat back and spread your pussy to watch the mix of cum seep out of you. his face was unreadable.
He walked off and got a towel. He cleaned you off and put your underwear back on. “Don’t tell anyone about this” he didn’t even look you in the eyes. He just walked off. He left you there. Trying to figure out why the fuck you just did that.
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biancabi · 4 months
Text
Jason: *Walking around the living room with a book until tripping over something*
Tim: *Lying on the ground being the "something" Jason tripped over*
Jason: What the fuck, Replacement?
Tim: Sleep is overrated and I don't need it!!
Jason: Of course, that clarifies everything. What do you think if we make the consumption of peanuts illegal too?
Tim: Actually that would be pretty fantastic-
Jason: No, I was being sarcastic. Why the hell are you on the ground?
Tim: I'm trying to test a theory about how inertia acts on bodies-
Jason: *Raising an eyebrow* You fell and you're too tired to get up, right?
Tim: ...
Tim: ....yes.
-
Jason: *Yelling* Can someone tell me why the hell the kitchen is covered in waffle batter everywhere??
Steph: *With a stack of fifty waffles at her side* We're making waffes, obviously
Jason: And you had to dirty Alfie's entire kitchen for that??
Steph: It's just a little disaster, he won't even notice.
Jason: He doesn't notice the flour on the floor, eggs on the windows and dough on the ceiling??
Steph: You're making it sound more serious than it is.
Jason: Don't fuck, goldie.
-
Jason: *Entering dramatically* Alright little bitches, which one of you takes my copy of Pride and Prejudice??
Dick: I haven't seen your book, littlewing
Duke: Don't you have like a ten copies of that book?
Jason: First, I have fifteen copies of Pride and Prejudice. Second, they took my special anniversary copy. So which one of you has it??
Dick: Are you sure you didn't leave it somewhere?
Jason: No, I looked everywhere in this damn manor and it's NOT there.
Duke: Man, it's practically impossible for you to have covered the entire manor, I tried but I got tired after 5 hours. 5 HOURS!! AND I ONLY WENT THROUGH THE EAST WING.
Jason: THAT'S NOT THE POINT! WHO HAS MY BOOK?!
Dick: *Replying to Duke* I don't know, after getting lost in the hallways I never tried to navigate the manor again.
Jason: HEY! RESPOND BEFORE I START TAKING THE BULLETS OUT!
Duke: *Excited* What if there is some type of ghost or entity that is hidden in the hallways?
Dick: That wouldn't be so strange, I mean, this manor is very old.
Jason: IT DON'T CARE IF THERE ARE ANY DAMN GHOSTS. I WANT MY BOOK.
Duke: Just think about it, what if the ghost took your book??
Jason: *Taking out their guns* This is it, it's bullet time.
-
Bruce: Jason, could you explain to me why my living room is full of bullet holes?
Jason: Whoa, old man. If we think about it technically, everything is your fault.
Bruce: Pardon?
Jason: I think it's actually Alfred you should apologize to, but I guess I accept your apology.
Bruce: *Take a deep breath* Jason, how is this my fault?
Jason: *Moving his hands indifferently* I mean, if you hadn't adopted seven of us your living room wouldn't be covered in bullet holes. So technically it's your fault.
Bruce: ...
Jason: You know, you should have stopped at kid number two.
-
Jason: *Holding Damian by the neck like a kitten* Why the hell did you jump out of the batmobile? Were you even thinking???
Damian: *Squirming* I was trying to get out of the terrible experience of you driving alive. We almost crashed and died AGAIN.
Jason: Oi demon brat, Just so you know we almost collided because you jumped out the window suddenly.
Damian: This wouldn't have happened if I had been driving.
Jason: *Exasperated* Your feet can't even reach the brakes. How do you think-
*They both freeze when they hear police sirens, they look at each other and back at the crashed Batmobile.*
Jason: Did you know? Bruce doesn't need to know this.
Damian: This is the first time I agree with you Todd, we don't have to bother Father with little things.
Jason: *Escaping from the place* Yes yes yes, definitely
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flowercrowngods · 5 months
Note
for prompt tag!
28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)
but also take your time 🫡🫂
in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours
When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 
But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 
Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 
The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.
God, where did Steve even unbury that? 
And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 
Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 
In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 
“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 
“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 
He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 
Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 
They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.
“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 
“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."
Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 
“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 
“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”
Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 
“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 
“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 
“Good?” 
Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 
“And you have a fever.” 
“Hmm. Still.” 
It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 
“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 
“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.
Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 
“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mhmm.”
“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 
Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”
“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 
“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”
Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 
It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  
hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶
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cheatghost · 2 months
Note
might i humbly request something fluffy for steddie and #2: playgrounds at midnight? if it sparks some inspiration? 🤲💜
hi hello! hiiiii 🥰 hello 👀 sorry for the wait! here it is <3
send me a pairing, a tone, and a prompt from this list, and i'll write you a little something!
02: playgrounds at midnight
"He's out," Wayne says from the couch on the front porch of the trailer, sitting so still Steve didn't even notice him. Or maybe he didn't notice him sitting there, smoking a cigarette in plain sight, because he stumbled over his feet rushing out of the Beemer and towards the Munson porch, hand coming to a stop as he heard Wayne. Didn't even get a chance to knock.
"Any idea where he went?" Steve asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning towards Wayne. "Like, is he around, or...?"
"He's around."
And then he stares at Steve, unbothered, and Steve stares back, waiting for the next clue to come. It's quiet for a second, save for Wayne's inhales and exhales, and Steve realizes he's practically panting. Out of breath, somehow. Because he booked it out of his house and into the Beemer and through Hawkins and out of his car and towards the front porch and now he's here, with none of the answers he came to get, and no idea where to find them.
"I just," he starts, clears his throat for no reason. "Just wanna say hi."
"Uh-huh," Wayne replies after a long inhale, unconvinced, eyes all too knowing in the way he's taking Steve in, from his half-tucked polo to his mismatched socks. So entirely unlike Steve Harrington, Steve is well aware.
It's just—Eddie left him this voicemail a few days ago.
Steve was out of town with Robin on a college tour, visiting campuses and university towns and trying to help her decide where to spend the next few years of her life. No big deal.
Also trying to convince her that he'd never really be far, and he'd travel up to her no matter where she ended up, and that his proximity to a college or another should, in no way at all, be taken into consideration. So he was away from the Harrington phone for a few days, which is only ever picked up by him these days, with his parents away for his dad's new business endeavour a convenient three states away.
Point is, he was out of town and away from the phone when Eddie left him a voicemail that said something along the lines of,
"It's Tuesday, Steve Harrington, which means you've only been gone three days. So why does it feel like a month? A whole year? Huh? I never pegged you for a— a spellcaster. A wizard. But man. I can't stop thinking about you. I'm a little high on the floor of the trailer, and I'm watching stupid Top Gun because of you, and I can't stop thinking about you. I don't even want to. What have you done to me?"
No big deal.
"He might be at the playground."
Steve looks up at Wayne, feels his heart start racing all over again. "Huh?"
Wayne chuckles. Shakes his head. "The playground," he repeats, pointing to somewhere in the distance behind the trailer. "Old rusty thing. You might find him there."
"Thanks," Steve says as he rushes in that direction, completely foregoing his good Harrington manners, apparently.
He'll have to thank Wayne properly later, might have to apologize for rushing off too. But right now, all he can think about is getting home two hours ago, and letting the voicemail messages play as he unpacked and undressed to get in the shower, and how he nearly slipped in the tub hearing Eddie's voice coming in through the noise of the shower head and the static of the machine. And how he stood there, dripping all over the floor, hunched over the machine as he listened to the message again, and again. And again.
Especially the part that said, "So this is me telling you, I guess. It's too big to keep inside now. And if this ruins things between us, well, no it won't, alright? I'll be cool about it. Promise. Give you your space and everything. I'll be a fucking ghost, man, if you want me to be. But if you don't want me to be, I need you to come find me when you get back. I'm not as bad a coward as I used to be but I still am a little bit, alright? So—"
"Where the fuck are you," Steve laughs to himself, half-hysterical, passing by what he thinks is the same old chevy truck with a big red stripe for the third time.
Steve's coming to find him, now, passing trailer after trailer without finding the old playground Wayne mentioned. It's dark, the trailer park isn't exactly well-lit, and he's tired. He's got the road still sitting heavy on his muscles, but Robin's words of encouragement keep him going, the ones she so wisely shared when he called her some time between the actual shower and right before he stepped out the door to come here. Go find him, go to him Go get your guy.
"Come find me."
And suddenly—suddenly.
The old playground comes into view.
Steve nearly trips over as he 180s in the right direction, sneakers slipping against the loose gravel and the dirt, eyes and mind and body singularly focused on Eddie.
Eddie, in the distance, sprawled on top of the monkey bars, his too-long limbs spilling out from every which way as he looks up up at the night sky.
Maybe he played here as a kid a lot, when the playground was still loved instead of abandoned and its colors were vivid instead of faded and rusty. Or maybe it was always this way, and Eddie loved it just the same. Because he would. He would.
As he gets closer, Steve hears the faint hum of noise coming from Eddie's headphones, completely invisible amidst his dark hair despite the single streetlamp lighting the playground as best as it can. It sounds like metal, of course, but Steve doesn't know which type. Just knows it's loud enough for Eddie not to hear him coming, seemingly lost in thought, even as Steve gets close enough that he could reach out and grab him and pull him down and say "Found you."
Instead, he reaches a hand up and gently shakes Eddie's shoulder. Watches with a smile as Eddie startles and rolls off the monkey bars, as gracefully as Eddie Munson ever could.
"Hi," Eddie says, fumbling to quiet his walkman and catch it at the same time as the headphones slip from his head and the cord gets tangled and the man from the music keeps singing.
It's too dark for Steve to really see it, but he thinks Eddie might be blushing.
"Hi," he says back. Can't stop the smile on his face. Doesn't want to.
Eddie settles the walkman finally, and looks up at him. Blinks his big brown eyes once, twice. Tries and fails for casual when he asks, "So, uh, what brings you to my neck of the woods?"
Nerves are spilling out of every inch of him, from the nervous fidgeting of his fingers around the walkman to the shuffling of his feet to the way his gaze keeps finding Steve's eyes and leaving them and finding them and leaving them and—
"Got your message," Steve says. Finds himself stepping closer. Finds Eddie not stepping away, not at all.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
Eddie's lips quirk up. An almost-smile, still too nervous to fully shine like Steve knows it can. So he steps forward again, gets closer, crowds in until Eddie's sitting on top of the ladder to climb up, and Steve steps into the space between his legs with ease. With want.
"Tell me again," he asks, his entire body vibrating with it, with the need and desire to hear Eddie tell him again, everything he said to the voicemail. To hear him say it to him, now. To make it real.
Eddie's eyebrows shoot up. "Tell you, uh—"
"The things from the phone," Steve says. Lets his fingers brush one of Eddie's hands white-knuckling the sides of the ladder. "Tell me again."
Eddie lets out a little laugh. Nervous, giddy, hysterical. Identical to the one haunting Steve's throat. He looks at Steve's fingers on his hand, looks up at Steve. Down at his feet; up at Steve again.
"I can't—" he starts. Stop, clears his throat. Rubs a hand over his face. Shakes his head. Laughs again, disbelieving this time. "I can't stop—"
Steve kisses him. Doesn't let him finish, just pushes their lips together and wraps his free hand around Eddie's waist, getting as close as he can without pushing Eddie off the ladder.
Eddie hums in surprise, and then again when Steve fixes the angle, slots their lips together properly. Moves slows, tries to keep his teeth out of the kiss despite knowing he's smiling through it like an idiot, having to physically stop himself every time he realizes he's doing it until Eddie pulls away and says, "Oh. Thank God. Jesus, Steve, let me catch my breath."
Steve can't; doesn't. Kisses him again instead, pulls Eddie up. Wraps an arm behind his neck and drags him closer, relishing in the feeling of Eddie's hands finding the side of his face, the side of his neck.
"M'crazy about you," he mumbles through the kiss, smirking at the sharp inhale it earns him from Eddie. "Missed you."
"Missed you too," Eddie says, pulling away again and resting their foreheads together. "But you're making me dizzy."
And then he laughs, so Steve kisses his cheek, lets him breathe. Moves his lips on every inch of skin he can find until Eddie's like putty in his arms, saying something about not being able to feel his knees.
"Do you wanna come inside and talk? About, uh, this?"
Steve's entire body hums. Happy. Kinda feels like he's just felt the sun on his skin for the first time in a long time. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"My uncle—"
"Probably thinks I'm a lunatic."
"What? Why?"
"Ran up to your front porch like I'd lost my mind. Barely spoke in full sentences."
Eddie smiles again. The full, bright thing this time. "That's embarrassing," he says, looking like he doesn't mean it at all.
"Yeah, well."
And then they're kissing again, less rushed but still giddy, with Steve's arms around Eddie's neck and Eddie's hands on Steve's hips, holding him tightly like he's afraid the moment might drift away, like it might crumble into dust before the sun rises again.
"Let's go talk," Steve says, smirking when Eddie chases after his lips. "You said a lot. Want you to hear me, too."
"Oh, I wanna hear you."
"Shut up."
"No, I shan't. You'll have to make me."
"I'll make you," Steve promises, pulling Eddie closer and dragging him in the direction of the trailer.
They'll talk, and then they'll stop, but mostly, Steve hopes they'll fall asleeo together, hopes he'll be allowed to bask in his moment a little longer. Hopes they won't have to take it slow; hopes he'll get to see what Eddie looks like when he wakes up tomorrow.
When they get to the trailer, Eddie rushes in and asks for a few minutes, says he needs to tidy up a little bit. So Steve lingers on the porch, feels Wayne's eyes on him again.
"Where was he?"
"Playground."
Wayne smirks, hums. "Thought so."
And then Eddie's peeking his head out, telling Steve to come inside. So Steve goes, barely hearing Wayne's amused chuckle in the back.
He goes, and Eddie kisses him, and Steve kisses him back, and he's never, ever, changing his answering machine.
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ratcash-wasgud · 2 months
Text
A gentle breeze could be our end ༊*·˚
Okay, so I had a vision about this very specific idea for a fic, which is...what if you took the role of Kinuyo? Hear me out, plsplspls.
(i altered a lot of canon things, sorry sorry. (i'm also sorry if anyone has done this before))
WC: 4K
TW: Abuse, Sexual harassement, Pedophelia and Prostitution. Basically kinda fucked up, sorry.
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You always felt like a burden to the world. Even in the womb, you hurt your mother. She died the moment you left her body, maybe even halfway, taking a great thing from the world, and giving it something useless with your own birth.
You didn't cry out when you saw the light, your little mouth opened, but no sound came out. The world was quiet.
As you grew up, you never managed get grow into anything you wanted to, and your father hated you for it. You never heard him say a word, but you knew he said hateful things. You tried to learn to read in secret, but only managed to barely get through one book after years. Learning was hard. Living was hard too.
You were 10 when he first hit you. It happened because you accidently dropped a cup, shattering it on the ground. You felt his footsteps approaching behind you, then when you felt his presence right behind you, he striked. He noticed how you survived, and you only gained a bruise from it.Plus, you couldn't yell for help, nor tell anyone. This gave him confidence. He started hitting you for every little mistake, sometimes even just for being born. You could see him feeling bad about it sometimes, but he still did it again. It just made you believe it even more that this is all your own fault. For being born wrong.
And you were 15 when he started missing your mother too much. He touched you, he made you touch him, and he forced you to open up and show him everything he wanted. You hated it. You hated your own body for exsisting, and giving him this option of using you. For having a body that could please men. Please...him.
One day though, he got caught. A neighbour, bringing over some leftovers caught him, standing bare before you, your tears dripping to the floor, as he hold your nose shut, so that you'd eventually open your mouth for him. But he got caught. It was over.
He had to get rid of you, so he sold you. But even after he left your life, he still wanted you to have a rotting future. He picked the brothel where he knew the man were disgusting. The most deprived kind. He sold you to Madame Kaji's brothel. By that point, your body was weak, and even walking was something you hated doing. You just wanted to lay down, and wait for your body to disappear.
But she was something warm. Something beautiful. Madame Kaji took you in, and smiled at you. She taught you everything you yearned for to know. She taught you to properly read and even write. She taught you manners and how to hide your fear. How to survive, even if you're weak. And she never hurt you in the process. She taught you sign langauge, and in the process, you learned to even read lips a little. She taught you a sign, which, in your head, you named "Love". It consisted of her gently kissing her fingers, then putting her hands around herself. Like a hug and a kiss in one. Love.
As you got better in writing, you wrote down everything that happened to you so far to her. Sometimes you teared up while writing, but she was always there, gently soothing you, and caressing your hair. She promised you that no man would ever touch you again, and she'll give you hapiness. You slept in her room, never leaving her side when it wasn't really necessary. She kept you safe. You were happy. She became your world. You wanted to be by her side, forever.
Living in a brothel made you more concious about people's sexual life, and every time you saw a man's face contort in pleasure, a shiver ran down your spine, prickling at your intestines, feeling your insides recoil in fear and disgust. You wanted to run away, and just jump back into Madame Kaji's embrace, but you had to be strong, like she wanted you to be. You never had to sleep with a man, but sometimes you went out to serve drinks, having to see the girls, who you admired greatly and saw as big sisters, having to engage in acts that would've have made you have a breakdown. Still, you stayed useless.
You wanted to be useful, you really did, but she never let you do much. You were too precious, she claimed. You really did love Madame Kaji, but you felt like a burden. No...you knew you were a burden.
One day, you managed to somehow convince her to let you serve drinks on a busy day. You nuzzled your face into her palm, gently kissing it before you picked up a tray and hurried into the customer area. You saw a man, middle aged, balding, the usual kind of man she sees there, sitting alone at a table. You sat down at the table, giving him a small, weak smile, and poured him sake. You put your finger on your lips, signaling that he shouldn't expect words from you.
The man smiled, sipping the sake. He stared at you, and kept...he kept staring. It started to feel really uncomfortable. His eyes started to burn through your clothes, and you suddenly felt his hand on your knee...slowly creeping up. You felt like throwing up.
Suddenly, Madame Kaji appeared next to you, her hand slipping his off you.
"Boss Hamata," Madame Kaji greets the man, as you sit there, not hearing a word. She signals you to leave, so you do. "She's not up for business." She says to Hamata, wearing a polite smile.
"Oh, is she now?" The man says with a cruel smile. "She's be a great addition to my home." He says, mostly to himself, as he stands up.
"You don't want another girl? Your usual is free at the moment." Kaji says after him.
"No," The man says again. "I lost my apetite." He then casually leaves.
The next day was your doom. The same man you remembered from last night returned with an army, and tore you out of Madame Kaji's hands.
Hamata was the devil himself. He took you because you were weak and couldn't fight back. He took you as his bride the same day, and left you covered in bruises the same night. He squeezed your throat, kneeled on your wrists, hit your skin, and forced his way in. He loved it, but you felt yourself slowly die inside day by day.
The worst thing? He was the same as your father. He had the same disgusting glint in his eyes, he licked his lips the same way, and he...he...tasted the same too. You tried jumping off the balcony, he punished you after. You tried stabbing yourself, he punished you after. You tried to poison yourself, he punished you after. You yearned for death by that point.
You spent most of your free time, when you could move, on the balcony, watching the brothel's door...hoping to catch a glimpse of Madame Kaji. Even seeing her form would give you comfrort...but you never did. You missed her more than anything. More than your own freedom.
One night, you were trying to sleep with the pain that he left behind that day, sorrounded by guards, to make sure you're not trying to kill yourself again, until...the guards fell, one by one...and a samurai walked out of the darkness.
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Mizu looked at you, the weak, deaf and mute girl she was set out to kill that night. She was determined. She needed those informations that Madame Kaji offered as payment. She had killed a lot of inocent things before, what's one more?
But when she saw your face...covered in bruises, shaking and tearing up, she felt something change inside her. You crawled away from her, backing up until your back hit the wall. She stepped closer to you, not liking the fear in your eyes. She couldn't help but see your beauty, even if it shouldn't matter right now. She extended a hand to you, but you didn't take it.
Obviously. You were afraid of her too. In your eyes, she was a man. A threat.
So, she did the sign Madame Kaji told her to. "Love." She saw your eyes soften, and your features almost brighten up. She offered her hand again, and this time, you took it. She heard more guards coming, so as you took her hand, she started running and pulled you with her. She hid with you, and held you close, gently soothing your hair. She felt you shaking in her arms, and she...she felt something snap inside her. She put her hands around your head, to quickly snap your neck...but she couldn't. Her hands wouldn't move. So, she stood up, leaving you in the hiding place, and started casually walking out.
She knows if the fact that she was here gets out, Hamata sends out his Thousand Claws to burn down Madame Kaji's brothel...so she needed to act now. She decided to face the army now.
As she walked out, and the Claws started charging at her after exiting the first door, she fought back with all her might. She slowly got tired. Her body was about to give out after slashing down hundreds of men, but something flashed in her mind.
She saw Mikio's face. Their duel. The face he made when he betrayed her. And she couldn't help but see your face too. She knows the world betrayed you too. She imagined you getting betrayed in the same way she did, and imagined you crying along with her. She saw you get killed by the men she is currently slaying down.
She couldn't give up. She finished the whole army, and went back to get you, wounded and exhausted. When you saw her, covered in blood, your eyes widened in fear.
You got scared of her again. She sighed "Love" again, but this time, you shook your head, and curled up in your hiding place. Mizu sighed, and kneeled by you.
She then started to write on the floor, using the blood on her. "I'll protect you." She said it as she wrote it, trying to convince you to communicate too.
You read the text, and looked at her, your eyes still so scared and vulnerable, it made Mizu's heart squeeze. She didn't know you, she reminded herself. Still...she meant when she said she's protect you.
Your hand shook as she reached out, dipping your finger in a small pool of blood that dripped down from her clothes. "Protect the Madam." You wrote.
Mizu sighed. Why did you care about Kaji right now? You're obviously scared for your own life too, so why not care about saving yourself?
"She'll be safe." She writes back. "I killed the ones who could hurt her." She finishes. It's true, she did kill everyone...but left Hamata to be slayed by Kaji herself.
Then you looked up at her again, and stood up. You followed her outside, leaving that blood ridden house.
When she brought you back to Madam Kaji, you jumped into her arms.
"They won't come looking for her." Mizu says, switching back to deadpan, as she nudged her head towards the wounded Hamata at the exit of his house.
Madama Kaji nodded while gently while gently caressing your hair.
"Still...she can't stay here. In a place like this...they will want to take her again." She sighed. Mizu's eyes widened. "I couldn't protect her once...I'd rather perish than see her be taken again."
"You want me to take her with me? She'll die by my side." Mizu responds, shaking her head.
"You're the reason she's alive. You didn't give her the freedom of death, you gave her the freedom of life. You didn't do what I asked you to...so I ask you to keep her safe."
Mizu, biting the inside of her cheek, kept quiet for a couple moments, thinking about it.
"I'll find her a new home." She says, sighing. "I'll keep her safe until then." She says, now looking down at you.
Considering now that she was alone, since they took Akemi back to her home, and Ringo left her after she did nothing about it, still...she couldn't enjoy being alone. She now had you.
You cried when Madame Kaji told you that you had to leave. You kissed her hand repeatedly, like how you always did when you nuzzled into her palm, and clinged to her clothes. After you let go, Madame Kaji signed "Love", and with one simple tear, she bid goodbye.
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Later that night, after walking the whole day, Mizu set up a small campfire in the woods for the night. You sat there, not even trying to communicate, just staring at the fire. Mizu felt confilcted. She didn't know you, she reminded herself again, but deep inside she already got herself attached. She lightly poked your shoulder, making sure not to make too much contact and to scare you.
You turned to face her, your big eyes shining at her, and your features shining in the light of the camfire. Still...you had circles under your eyes, bruises on your neck, your lips wounded from you...or someone else...biting on them too much.
"I saw you reading lips." Mizu says, making sure to articulate every word properly. "I didn't know you could do that."
You tilt your head at her, then purse your lips. You pick up a stick from the ground and start writing in the dirt. Your hands move softly, gently even, as if the stick was breathing in your hand. You focused your eyes on the thing your were writing, and your gaze followed your hand. Your hair fell into your face a little, framing your features.
"Madame helped." You write, then turn your face back to Mizu, to read her lips if she responds.
"...kind of her." She murmurs, making you unable to read it. She wanted to talk to you, but somehow...it was hard. Not for the fact that you were deaf or mute, but the fact that she somehow...felt nervous. As if she made the wrong move, you'd shatter where you stand. You seemed so delicate, and Mizu knew her blood stained fingers and harsh words would only cause you harm. She really didn't want herself to be the one to look after you. Plus, she knew you were deadly afraid of men, and you saw her as one. Suddenly, she felt this strong urge to reveal herself. To make you feel safe. Or maybe because of other, more selfish reasons...to make you feel more comfortable around her. To make you open up.
"Don't be afraid." She says, now articulating enough for you to read. "I'm no man." She says, putting a hand on her chest. Your eyes widened in surprise, and wrote "Boy?" in the dirt.
Mizu shook her head. "Woman." She says, correcting you. You looked at her, utterly confused. Mizu slowly lowered her haori, revealing her binded chest. "Woman." She repeated.
Your gaze softened. You finally understood. A small smile pulled at the ends of your lips and nodded. You moved your hand again, writing again. "Fooled me." You then look at her, your smile reaching your shining eyes. Mizu chuckles in response.
"A habit of mine, yes. I do it most people." She leans back on her hands, now feeling more relaxed. She looked at your face again, and...she felt mesmerized. She felt horrible when the thought that she understood why Hamata wanted you popped up in her head.
You then start writing again, and Mizu's gaze snaps back to your hands again. "Thank you." You then give her a weak smile. "I'm not like you. I am not strong. I will die easier." You stopped for a moment before continuing. "So thank you for not letting me die."
Mizu's eyes widen. If she thinks about it, it's true, but the fact that you're talking so openly about it bothers her. "You won't die easily. You're strong too. I mean...you're still alive. That has to mean something." She says, squinting her eyes at the fire.
Mizu sees your shoulders move a little, as if you're giggling, but no sound comes out. She does imagine what your giggle would be like though. She imagines it to be soft and gentle, since that's the only way she ever seen you do anything. "True. But I wish I wasn't born wrong." You write.
Mizu presses her lips together and looks at you with pity. She doesn't know why she feels pity, she herself was born wrong too. She's a halfblood, someone who has always been a dog. Something rather than someone. "Sometimes the world is not fair." She shrugs. "But you need to make the most of your situation. You're lucky in a lot of ways."
Your eyebrows lifted, and you tilted your head, as if saying "Like what?" Mizu noticed that you were able to communicate a lot with your eyes and the way you moved your head.
"Well, for starters...you're beautiful." She said, not managing to keep her gaze on you. That was a stupid thing to say, huh? Why would she even say that? She met you the other day, saving you from some sadistic bastard, and having to take you in afterwards...she's not being appropriate.
But when she turned her gaze back to you, she saw you with your eyes wide and your cheeks flush. Oh. Did she do that?
The days go by, and wherever she goes, Mizu's first thing to do, is ask around for a new home for you. She doesn't want to bring you along to this wretched journey of hers any more than needed. You already had to see her kill a group of people the other day, and it left you pale and scared. She remembers how you looked with a drop of blood splattered across your face, and how you wiped it away with a shaky hand. She never wants to see it again.
While traveling together, Mizu learned how precious you are. She knows your past, and she sees you flinch when a man passes by you, but still you want to do anything you can for her. Even if it's small things like running the errand of buying food, running after her hat that fell off her head then got kidnapped by the wind, and sitting by yourself at a river for hours, trying to scrub the blood out of her clothes, even if it makes you shiver. Your delicate hands started to have small callouses from living out in the open with her, but your bruises faded away. Good, she though. You don't deserve to have any, so she'll never have you gain another one again.
Hm. She was planning more and more ahead. Why? Wasn't she planning to find you a home that's not beside her? She knew you couldn't be happy by her side, it wasn't the life you deserved. You deserved to find an angel of a husband, who's strong enough to protect you, coddle you daily, and never let you do any work. Who'll kiss you whenever he sees any sign of gloominess on your features, and someone who'll make you believe you're not born wrong.
And she knows you'd be the sweetest wife too. You'd put your delicate hands on his aching muscles after a hard day, massaging away the pain, then gently kiss the tip of his nose. You'd snuggle into him after feeding him something delicous for dinner, and trace the words you want to say into her skin with your fingers. Mizu would hum in response, just gently playing with your hair, letting the peace take over as she'd put her hand under your chin, making you look at her face when she'd say something, so you could read her lips. She'd never tell you about the blood she had to shed that day, only the good things. Like when she saw a small bird, and it reminded her of you, or when she managed to buy a kind of sweet you liked on her way back. She'd feed you that candy by hand too. She'd watch your pouty lips open as she'd place the sweet treat in your warm and wet--!
When did this turn into being about her? Something like that could never happen. She's a woman with a quest, not some domestic husband. Still...she wants it to be like that. She'd treat you well if she had the chance...But she doesn't. She lacks everything for that. She can't abandon her quest.
So, one day she finds an inn. The inn keeper tells her about recently losing his daughter, who was his only staff. He even sheds a tear. Mizu tells him about the girl she's traveling with.
"She's deaf, she's mute...but she's a hard worker. She can read lips, and writes well." She tells the inn keeper with a serious face. "I'm sure she won't even ask for payment if you take care of her." She says, but inside, she doesn't want to do this. She wants you to stay by her side, but...that's a wretched path. You need this. You need a peaceful life.
The inn keeper seems to be deep in though for a couple of moments before he nods. It's settled. After two months of torture, being in her care, she finally found you annew home. It's good news, right? So why...why does she feel like slashing the inn keeper's throat just for agreeing? Why does she feel the need to burn the whole inn down and running with you, hand in hand? She hates this. This dumb, annoying aching in her chest when she thinks about not staying by your side.
Your eyebrows shoot up when she breaks the news to you, and she sees you freeze. She sees the gears basically turning in your head, then...you shake your head and take a step closer to her. You point to her, then to herself, finishig the sigh by putting her hands together.
Mizu's heart skips a beat. "No, look...I can't let you stay with me. This guy, the inn keeper...he seems like a nice guy. He just lost his daughter, and he's willing to take care of you."
You shake your head again, and sign "Love". Mizu sighs. She wants to say "I love you too." but that's not how it works.
"I have a quest to finish, and you'll surely die in the process. You know that. So just...be happy about this." She says, averting her gaze. Your eyes droop, and your shoulders deflate. You shake your head again and hug her, wrapping your arms around her torso.
She hated the fact that she had to leave you, with a man no less, but she hoped she's making the right decision. She really wanted you to be happy. And if she wanted you to be happy by her side, then she needed to find her own peace first. She had to save ehrself first before she could save you.
In reality though, she knew you saved her.
After the hug ends, she looks into your eyes. "If I survive, I'll come back to you." She says, gently petting your head. Your eyes brighten up and you nod.
That was farewell, because Mizu left withouth another word.
And she meant it...she'll come back. She just wishes you'd wait for her, even if it's the most selfish wish she ever made. She sheds every drop of blood, thankful you're not there to see it. She closed her eyes every night, hoping you're doing the same too under a warm blaket, filled with warm food. And she sat sail, making a silent promise about spending the first night by your side when she arrives back in Japan.
That will be her true peace.
༊*·˚
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farfromstrange · 2 months
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Sub!matt idea. Sensory deprivation.
It can be common as a way of control, heighten the experiance or even to help calm and sooth to blindfold your partner and make them rely on other senses. But for Matt he already has this to the extreme which can be distracting able to hear three blocks away when all he wants to focus on is you his world in this moment.
After a day of honestly tiring input he just asks for you to take over he somtimes does that wanting someone else to control him for a while and he trusts you. And trusts you enough to fuck you with his hearing either gone or reduced only able to feel, smell and taste you which is more then enough. Esspecially when you focus on the touch lavishing his body with sensory your hands never off him roaming, soothing holding. Your lips almost always on him kissing, sucking biting anything to elicit the sweet groans of him. He keeps a hand on your chest or throat not controlling but to be able to sense your rumbling groans and soft sighs feel the uptick in your heart rate as he focuses on you and only you
I am SO sorry that this took so long! And when I finally started writing it, I got carried away, so it took me two whole days to finish. But I wanted it to be good enough after I left you hanging.
On that note, your smutty thoughts make me feral!! Not gonna lie, I sat in my lecture the other day and I couldn't stop thinking about this, which is why this turned out to be over 4k words. On this page, we celebrate sub!Matt and all that comes with him!
Thank you so much for your request, and I hope I could do it justice <3
Sensory Deprivation | Matt Murdock x afab!Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader
Summary: The world tends to get a bit loud, but thankfully, you're there to help Matt focus.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), sub!Matt, use of "good boy", oral m!receiving, swallowing, use of earplugs (sensory deprivation), Matt's catholic guilt, slight blasphemy, (almost) coming untouched, mention & use of safe word/action
Word Count: 4.4k
A/n: I'm so horny for this man, I can't function. Also, even though I did proofread this, I'm not sure if I missed any mistakes. My brain doesn't function as well as it used to. I'm sorry in advance.
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More than anyone in this world, Matt believes he has to function, always, and without exceptions. He believes that he has to be useful, always doing something and never resting. His heightened senses make it impossible for him to turn his back on even the most minuscule cases of injustice, and he still beats himself up time and time again because he can’t be everywhere at once. He hears everything, smells everything, and feels the despair in the air, but in the end, he can’t take on the weight of the world all by himself. 
Ever since he met you, you have become his reprieve. You’re the haven he returns home to when everything gets just a little too much. When his senses are flooded and his heart is heavy. He crawls to you when he’s wounded, and he would crawl to you if he only had a few more minutes to live. You’re the first person he thinks of when he wakes up, and the last person he thinks of when he goes to sleep at night, preferably holding you in his arms to make sure that you won’t slip away from him. In you, he has found someone who would never judge him for who he is. Someone who will always stand by his side proudly, and someone who will hold him when he’s at his weakest. And he has been hanging off the edge of his breaking point for quite some time, holding on for dear life.
You can tell Matt must have had an awful day from the second the key turns in the lock to your shared apartment. His feet drag over the wooden floorboards as he makes his way inside. You look up from your book. 
Matt takes a deep breath, dropping his bag by the door. His shoulders are tense. He folds his cane, places it aside, and removes the red glasses you’ve grown to love—but you don’t nearly love them as much as his beautiful brown eyes, the green specks so distinctive, you could recognize them anywhere.
“Rough day?” you ask. 
He opens the first button of his dress shirt with shaky fingers. “Yeah. I don’t wanna talk about it,” he says. 
He hasn’t said hi to you like he usually would. Tonight seems to be one of those nights again. You know Matt well enough to pick up on the subtle clues in his behavior. He’s overwhelmed, possibly even anxious, and the weight he always carries on his shoulders is threatening to crush him. He’s walking a very thin tightrope, and he’s about to fall off. 
You place your book on the coffee table and straighten up. He rounds the couch you’re sitting on, his unfocused eyes searching for you. Your heartbeat resonates in his ears. Your breathing is regular. You’re calm. You’re his rock. You won’t let him drown, no matter how strong the current is that is dragging him down. 
Raising your eyebrows, you look up at him when he stops right in front of you. “No hello kiss?” you dare to ask. It’s a soft question, a little teasing, but he knows you mean well. 
Matt shakes his head. As soon as he breathes you in, he’s done for. His brain cells fry on the electric chair of his mind. His heart starts beating up to his throat. You’re so close yet so far away. You smell incredible; you must have showered after work, and then you sat down with your favorite tea and read your favorite book while waiting for him so you could have dinner together. You’re so considerate, you even used his scentless soap so all he would be able to smell is your natural scent. You consume him. The city moves into the background, and the bricks are about to fall off his shoulders. He’s close to collapsing, falling on his knees and begging you to take control to just make him forget, but he isn’t quite there yet.
A car honks in the distance. The night is calling for him. His hand clenches into a fist at his side while the other rests flat against his thigh. 
You slowly rise from your position. “Matthew,” you breathe his name like a siren. “What do you need?”
He sniffs. His fingers twitch. He has to go out, but he can’t. You envelop him in a bubble, and it makes him feel like he isn’t alone. Like he isn’t trapped. Like he can finally let go after holding on for so long. 
“Talk to me,” you say. 
His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “There was so much noise,” Matt whispers back. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t focus. I’m trying to stay in control, but I can’t focus, and—” He breaks off into a shaky sigh. 
You chase his eyes; they’re glossed over. You reach out to tilt his chin in your direction. His eyes flutter closed. A stray tear slips down his cheek. It’s a tear stemming from months of exhaustion, physical pain, and emotional turmoil. He tried to push through, but he’s arrived at a point of no return. He’s breaking, and you’re the only one capable of catching him. 
After another deep breath, Matt’s eyes open again. “You’re here,” his voice is still barely above a whisper, but the smile that starts to grow on his lips speaks the language of relief. 
“I’m always here,” you answer. 
“You keep me sane.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been distant.”
“I also know that, but it doesn’t matter. I know how hard it is for you. If you need to be distant for a while and then blow off some steam, I’m okay with it.”
He shudders when your fingers brush his cheek. The faint bruise underneath his eye has turned green. You trace the injury with gentle fingertips. 
“What did I do to deserve you?” he says. 
You smile back at him, knowing he can feel it, and you guide him toward your face. “You exist,” you tell him. “That’s enough for you to deserve me.”
His nose brushes against yours, but before his lips can meet yours, he stops. He inhales your scent. He feels your pulse under his fingers from where he’s wrapped them around your wrist. Your skin feels so soft against his. He’s no longer on fire. The world is no longer on fire. He can let go. He wants to know that it’s okay to let go, but the voice in his head is telling him to stop. The crossroads he finds himself at won’t let him leave in the direction he wants to go. 
You can feel his inner turmoil. He’s holding back. He always does so. You’ve been together for what feels like forever, and he still doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants. What he needs. What he deserves. You told him to be primal when he needs to be. You told him to admit when you need to take over. He never does it out of his own free will. He waits until you force him into submission. 
Tonight should be the night he finally tells you. Matt needs to learn that his needs matter just as much as yours. His catholicism can go to hell for all you care. 
“I need—” He swallows. “I-I need t—”
“Go ahead,” you urge him. 
“Ugh,” the sound resembles a broken growl. And then, the barriers finally break. “I need you to take over,” he begs. “I need you to help me breathe again, sweetheart. Please. I need you.”
God, he sounds so wrecked. 
“You want me to take control?” you ask to clarify. 
He nods. “Yes.”
“Okay. Good boy. I can do that.”
Matt’s lips part in a weak whimper in response to your praise. Calling him a ‘good boy’ always has the same welcome effect. You don’t even have to look down to know that his cock is slowly swelling in his slacks. 
All the blood has rushed from his head and his beautiful rosy, stubbly cheeks to his groin. It doesn’t take much to turn him on, especially not in his current state—especially not if it’s you.
Hearing him admit that he needs you like this makes you feel a myriad of emotions. You want to take care of him, you want to love him, and you want to give him a moment of peace amongst the constant chaos, but there is also something so arousingly erotic about the way he begs for you to take control that makes your thighs clench. 
Often enough, he is the one taking care of you. Matt is a giver, not a taker. He always puts you first, but on some days, he just can’t bear it anymore. And you couldn’t possibly ask him to take charge in bed in his current state. It would break him. He’s a vulnerable man, whether he likes to admit it or not, and he can be as fragile as an ancient vase. You have to handle him with care on those days, which is all you intend to do as you guide him to your shared bedroom. 
You gently urge him to sit down on the bed. “Do you trust me?” you ask. 
His unfocused eyes flick from one side to the other. “Always,” he breathes out. 
“Good. Lie back for me. I’m going to take such good care of you, I promise.”
He would never doubt that. 
You climb into his lap, and finally, you kiss him. His lips part slightly in a desperate groan. Before he can slide his tongue into your mouth though, you pull away. His grabby hands are already resting on your hips, wandering, and wandering, and…
“Nuh-uh,” you tell him, taking hold of his calloused fingers and placing them on your upper thighs. “Patience, baby.”
“Please,” Matt begs. You love it when he begs. He’s completely putty in your hands. You could tell him to get on his knees and pray, and he would, no matter how blasphemous it may be. 
He’s holding onto you for dear life. You place his hand against the left side of your chest, allowing him to feel your heartbeat. He isn’t leaving you cold. He never does. Alone the sight of him is enough to make your thighs clench with need, but straddling him, you can’t get the friction you need. 
You reach for the nightstand to your right, opening the drawer. You know exactly what he needs. “Turn your head for me,” you murmur. 
Matt follows your instructions without questioning them. Finally finding what you were looking for, you retrieve the earplugs from the bedside drawer. This isn’t the first time you have used them on him, or he has used them on you. The specific brand renders you almost entirely deaf and renders Matt’s enhanced hearing almost to an entirely normal level.
You gently put the first plug into his left ear, then the other into his right. Before you push it in though, you ask, “Do you remember our safeword?” 
He nods. “Red,” he says. 
“Good boy. And when you can’t speak?”
“Tap your wrist three times.” His lips curl up into a weak smile. “Usually, I’m the one asking you that.” 
“Not tonight, you aren’t. May I put this in now?” You tap the earplug.
He nods again. It’s all the confirmation you need before inserting it, reducing his hearing completely. He lets out a sigh of relief. He closes his eyes, and you know he’s trying not to cry. 
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” you ask, cradling his cheek. His stubble scratches your fingertips, but it’s a welcome pain. 
He can still hear what you’re saying, feel the vibrations in your chest from where his hand is resting, and he smells you so much clearer now that he no longer has to listen to the city screaming at him in the background. Your arousal gets stuck to the tiny hairs in his nose, and he inhales sharply. Every nerve in his body is on fire. 
Matt moans. His tongue darts out, tasting the air. For a moment, he forgets that you just asked for his consent. Everything is so much more intense, yet it isn’t nearly enough. 
“Matthew,” you nudge him. “Talk to me.”
“Yes,” he whispers. At least he thinks he’s whispering. 
You smile, seemingly satisfied with his answer, and then you lean down to kiss him again. This time, you let him push his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, feeling you, and consuming all of you. He wants every ounce of you ingrained in his mind forever. 
His hands slide under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. His focus is on you entirely. You help him take the pesky piece of fabric off, followed by his own. He’s suddenly so hot. 
Your teeth clash when you kiss. His cock is hard as a rock, pressing against his lower abdomen. You can feel it between your thighs. It must be painful for him. 
His kisses trail from your mouth, down your neck. He tastes the salt on your skin. Your pulse jumps as he drags his tongue over the vein. It’s a primal need. He needs to mark you. He needs to taste you, all of you, and make you his for all the world to see. An animalistic growl escapes his lips. His teeth dig into your skin. He nibbles just enough to make you moan, your chest vibrating underneath his hand. Matt doesn’t even hesitate to grab a handful of your breast, tugging at your sensitive nipple until it’s stiff enough to rival his aching cock. 
You throw your head back, your jaw slack, and he uses the newfound space to kiss down to your collarbone. You’re going to be purple and bruised tomorrow, but you don’t care. 
With a demanding grip on his hair that pulls at his scalp and causes him to groan against your shoulder, you push his head toward your chest. He isn’t in control, you are, and you know how much he loves to please you. 
Like a man starving, he sucks your nipple into his mouth. No, it’s not just your nipple. He takes as much as he can into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub only momentarily before he moves on to the rest of your silky skin. 
You moan. You have to let him know that you’re enjoying yourself. He feels the sound deep within your chest from where his hand is resting, and the way your breast moves slightly when you moan. Matt only becomes more eager when he feels and smells what he’s doing to you. 
The scent of you is addicting. Your arousal smells slightly sour, sometimes slightly metallic, but most of all, it is you. And when he tastes your essence on the tip of his tongue without even licking at your slick folds because you are simply that wet, it makes him feral with this insanely primal need to have you. 
He wants to spread you out before him and taste you until you’re coming all over his face. Though today, he is too weak to keep you restrained to the mattress. Matt takes what he can get, what you are willing to give him, and he does so eagerly, like the good boy that he wants to be for you. 
With the world silenced, he can focus on you. The way your heart is hammering against your ribcage, right against his palm. The way your chest heaves with every labored breath you take as he sucks and sucks at your breast until your nipple is beyond swollen. He can feel how smooth your skin is, smell the remnants of your body lotion that he sometimes steals so he can smell you everywhere he goes, and the slight sheen of sweat that has started to cover your body from head to toe. And he can smell your arousal so thick in the air, his cock jumps at the mere thought of sinking into your tight walls—of being completely consumed by you, body and soul. He doesn’t need to hear right now, all he needs to do is feel you. 
You know about his desperate urge to please. You know that, even while you’re in charge, he wants nothing more than to make you feel good. Matt is anything but selfish. But his selflessness doesn’t have a place in this bedroom tonight. 
As crazy as his mouth on your breasts is driving you into an oblivion of pure ecstasy, your walls clenching around nothing, you find it in yourself to pull him away. 
With his eyes hooded, he looks so delicious. His cock is still straining against his lower abdomen in his underwear. When you pull him away, his expression reads offense. You can’t help but snicker. 
“Did you think I’d let you make this about me?” you say just loud enough for the sound to reach through the earplugs. 
He exhales. “I was praying,” he says. 
Praying. He is too far gone to realize. There are sides to Matt Murdock you love more than others, and when he becomes blasphemous, it does things to you. This good catholic boy turns into mush when you just touch him, and then you are his God. You’re who he wants to worship, and he would pray to you, worship at the altar of your body, and drink your essence like holy water if it meant being all over you and inside of you. And you take your position very seriously. 
He trusts you. That is not a small feat. He trusts you with his body and soul, and he trusts you with the most vulnerable parts of him, be it in bed or merely a hug after a bad day. You know what he needs, and he trusts you to take care of him. He wouldn’t let just anyone do what you do to him.
“What were you praying for?” you ask him. 
“You,” he whispers. 
“You can have me, but first… focus.”
He told you he was losing focus because the world was far too late, so with the noise reduced, you will help him focus on something other than the world out there. 
“Feel that?” You kiss his mouth, and from there, you move down to his stubbly jaw. “Focus on that. Focus on me.”
Matt sucks in another sharp breath. While one hand still rests on your chest, the other comes to rest around your neck, feeling your pulse, feeling you, and his eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your luscious lips all over him. 
Your kisses trail down his neck. You pay close attention to the sensitive spot behind his ear. He moans. His hips buck upward. He’s so painfully hard, his cock has already started leaking pre-cum into his boxers. 
Each scar, each indentation on his skin that reminds you of all the good he does at the expense of his health, you kiss. You trace your tongue over the healed wounds, feeling the warmth of his skin seep into yours. He’s so sensitive. 
His fingers involuntarily clench around your neck, but you don’t mind. He’s not choking you, he’s simply trying to hold on. You have established a safe word for a reason, after all. He can get carried away the same way you can get carried away.
You wouldn’t dare push him too far though. Not tonight. Not when he’s already this wrecked underneath you. You purposefully leave his nipples out of the equation and move further down his body. His abs tense under your tender touch. You can’t help but smile. 
And him? Matt feels like he’s floating. He can feel every kiss against his heated skin, your fingertips tracing his scars after you’ve so sensually pressed your mouth against them, and he can feel your every breath as you move downward. Every kiss leaves a series of shivers in its wake. He’s hot, yet he’s cold. He needs more, but at the same time, you are already close to driving him into overstimulation. 
His balls tighten. He can’t believe that the feeling of you is enough to make him want to explode. He knows that if you touch his cock now, he might as well come right then and there. It’s so much more intense like this when he doesn’t get distracted by the world outside. You are his world, and you are all he focuses on. 
You move further down until you reach his boxers. His arm is no longer long enough to keep his hand around your neck, so he moves it into your hair. It’s a silent warning, you suppose because he is close. You only kissed him, and he’s already so close to coming undone. You don’t blame him. He’s been so tense lately. 
You press a kiss to his hip bone before murmuring against his milky skin, “It’s okay.”
Matt whimpers. Your words make their way into his bloodstream. 
You pull his boxers down. The cold air hits his aching tip and the way his back arches makes you almost feel bad. You spit into your hand, but you make sure your palm is warm enough before you reach for his girth. 
The moment you touch him, he’s done for. “Sweetheart, I can’t–” he chokes out, but you shush him by placing your lips against his tip. 
You lick at the salty pre-cum. It tastes like him. You can’t deny that you missed this while he was so distant from you. This is as much for you as it is for him, that is something you can’t deny either. You’re a little selfish tonight. Just a little. 
His words of protest get swallowed by a needy moan, and his fist tightens in your hair. He’s not going to last long. 
Matt is not one to come early. The guilt swallows him faster than you can swallow his cum, which is why he always holds himself back. Tonight though, you won’t let him torture himself for your pleasure. You hate it when he does it. 
“Ugh!” the moan comes from the depths of his chest. “Fucking–God!”
You take him into your throat as far as you can without gagging, and what you can’t take, you wrap your hand around. He’s so thick, and he’s so incredibly big—you can feel the tears forming in your eyes. But God, he is so beautiful with his head thrown back, brown eyes squeezed shut, and that little drop of sweat dripping down his temple. It’s lewd, it’s erotic, and it makes your thighs clench. 
All of his reservations vanish when you take him all in. Your throat is tight, but you’re enthusiastic. Your tongue traces the vein on the underside of his cock, moving back up to the overly sensitive head. Your hands cup his balls. Every time you go down on him, Matt swears he can feel heaven reaching its hand out to him.
He grips your hair a little tighter, his other hand tangling in the sheets. He’s so close. He twitches, painfully so. And when he comes, he instinctively pulls your head upward so you won’t choke. His hot cum spurts down your throat, and you have no choice but to swallow. 
You surprise both yourself and him when you fight against his hand and force yourself down far enough so that your nose brushes the base of his cock, and you gag. 
Your throat is so tight and hot that it drags his orgasm on for eternity. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears. His heart is racing out of his chest as if it has somewhere to be. The fire ripples through him, the inferno turning into a dangerous explosion that tears his nerves apart, putting them back together just to tear them apart again. He feels as though the skin is falling off his very fragile bones, and his muscles collapse in on themselves. 
Matt can’t breathe. When he finally manages to untangle his hands from your hair, he lies there. The blood in his ears is obnoxious. He can’t hear. He can’t see. And suddenly, he can’t even feel anymore. He doesn’t exist. Reality slips away into a moment in time. Now, he’s dying. It feels like he is dying. 
You pull off his cock, catching your breath. His cum trickles down the corner of your mouth. You wipe it away. Pressing a kiss to his hip bone, you look up through your lashes. At first, he looks blissed out, but his expression quickly changes. 
He can’t talk. You take his hand. “Matt,” you coax him. 
Not even his chest is lifting in time to accommodate his heavy breathing. His body is shaking as every ounce of stress falls off his shoulders, and his nerves fall victim to the inferno that is still wreaking havoc inside of him.
He taps your wrist three times. 
“Okay,” you murmur. You quickly climb back up his body. 
“Out,” he manages to tell you, weakly pointing to the earplugs. 
“Okay, baby. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
You pull the earplugs out as fast as you can. Matt’s arms wrap around you, searching for a lifeline, and he pulls you against him.
“Shhh.” You cradle his head in the crook of your neck. 
You hold him like this for a while. You hold him against you tightly, gently, as if he is the most fragile thing you have ever held. 
Eventually, his breathing returns to normal. His heart starts to slow down. His fingertips no longer dig into your back as desperately as they have before. He’s just content now. 
You press your lips to the crown of his head. “You okay?” you dare to ask. 
Matt takes a moment before he nods. He leans back slightly. “Thank you,” he breathes. 
“For what?”
His lips curl into a tired yet satisfied smile. “For helping me focus.”
You smile back at him. “My pleasure,” you say, and you lean down to capture his lips in a loving kiss. 
“I love you,” he murmurs into the kiss.
“And I love you, Matthew Michael Murdock.”
“Oh, you love me that much, huh?”
You giggle, “Shut up!” before you pull him in for another kiss. 
For now, he needs to catch his breath and pick up the pieces you shattered by giving him this orgasm, but you know that once he does, it is going to be a long night for you. And you won’t be able to find it in yourself to complain. Not that you want to, anyway.
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Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617
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arxxqs-blog · 2 months
Text
𝐖𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑..
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[ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 <3 !! ]
writing for my favorite characters: itoshi rin, akabane karma, sano manjiro
itoshi rin - mentions a guitarist reader,
akabane karma- mentions of rivals troupe,
manjiro sano- grumpy girl x sunshine boy,
: any mistakes will either be left unedited or will be edited when I do so, english is not my native language so be warned, I do not support plagiarism, do not steal my works, mentions of female reader in my head but not to worry it's all gender neutral, if used she/her pronounce it's because I imagine the reader as a female I apologize for that :
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"a beauty just like your melody..." :
: itoshi rin is someone who's known to be cold and reserved to most others, some find him to be unapproachable and some find his demeanor is intimidating and some admire him for his talents, achievements and his hard work which makes it hard to believe he had someone to begin with..but he did and it was with one of the most talented guitarist in the whole school [name]. no one knew what was going on between them but some just assume they were just close friends since childhood but little did they know the two of them had a little thing going on,
it was after school, there they were one strumming their guitar while the other listened to their playing. the teal eyed man had his gaze on them so mesmerized at their beauty. once they finished [name] felt like they were being stared at so they giggled and looked at him. "did you enjoy the song or was your mind occupied somewhere else?" rin was unfazed but he let out a small chuckle which was very rare. "yk I love you right?" they were taken aback but laughed. "more than soccer?" the boy rolled his eyes "I hate to admit but I do love you more than soccer" :
"I hate you...I hate myself for that too"
: Everyone knew the hatred [name] held for akabane karma and I think it goes the same way for him as well, they were rivals since junior high even. [name] hated that red headed boy for everything, how he was better than him in most things, how cocky he gets, his behavior. basically everything. what made them hate despise him more was that he was always either one or two above her. it was time where mid years were about to come, [name] was in the library studying and it was late at night, by now no one was in the library except them and the librarian. They were getting tired and their mood was ruined. what made it worse was when they heard that voice.
"Oh well you look at that, it's miss perfect studying" that annoying voice rang in their head. "What do you want akabane?" she said with a hoarse voice. "In fact what are you even doing here," the boy studied [name]'s face and how visibly tired she looked. "Just returning a book...you should get a break you know and try and not get too worked out?" They scoffed. "I'm serious...you shouldn't get worked up," [name] glared at him. "Why the fuck do you care?" The boy was getting annoyed by their stubborn behavior. "Well believe it or not I'm not a dick like how you see me to be," he yelled. Lucky for them the librarian didn't hear "I hate you...I hate you I fucking do. I hate how you always manage to one up me, how you don't care about what people say to you, how you don't care about fitting it...I hate you and I hate myself for that" [name] admitted. The boy was taken aback. "Well believe it or not I don't hate you....I never did so let's start a new beginning for me and you?" He sat down beside you and smiled "I'd..I'd like that.."
"You're always so grumpy cheer up!"
: sano manjiro, [name] did not know how they got together in the first place because in the beginning of the year they were complaining about how immature Mikey is and how he keeps skipping class. they also complained how he is in a gang which isn't really good but now here they are together with him. At first [name] found him intimidating and everything but after getting to know him he was basically just such a big baby and pain to deal with. In their relationship they're basically the grumpy one one in the relationship.
"[Name] let's get dorayaki!" Mikey says ecstatic while the girl was not in the mood at the moment. "No please let's not I'm too tired for this Mikey!" She complains. "Come on loosen up" he drags her to his motorcycle. "Mikey don't you dare drive at an insane spee-! Mikey!" From afar draken and Emma were laughing at their odd relationship. "Those two are really something aren't they ken?" Draken laughed. "they really are"
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Authors note:
my favorite characters <3 but if you ask me between all my favorites karma will always have a special place in my heart ngl. You don't know how much I love assassination classroom to this day. It will always have a small special place in my heart and I honestly don't mind that at all.
sincerely your dear author !
-Arxx/Hasinah.
All rights reserved do not plagiarize !
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foreheadkiss3s · 1 month
Text
Breathe.
before I let this out to the world, I just wanted to say that I mostly write for ahs characters, but I wanted to try writing something with Rafe so bad for a while now. I'm sorry if it comes out cringy and shitty, and I wanted to thank you for the support!
TW: angst, fluff, daddy issues, that's it I guess.
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There had been a time- during his teenage years, where everything he did, he did it solely for the purpose to gain his father attention. Ward had never been scared to show his preferences when it came to his kids, putting Sarah always on a pedestal.
As the years went by, he had become the black sheep of his family, whatever he did he just couldn't seem to get it right, and after a bit he had given up trying to please his dad. Still, there was a bitter taste left in his mouth, a grip would tighten around his throat every time he'd notice interactions between his father and his sister.
It wasn't jealousy, that's what he kept repeating himself. It wasn't jealousy. He would've never admitted it, but all he wanted was to be seen by his father. He wanted his father to acknowledge him, and care for him as much as they cared about Sarah's stupid and spoiled tantrums thrown over her pogue friends- that got them miles away chasing her around fields and cities.
His shit was always brushed off in favour of Sarah's. That's what got him mad. Did he even matter at all to somebody? Would somebody chase him around the fucking world?
He thought he could answer this question right away until he had met you.
You had turned his world upside down. You showed him what being loved felt like. Yet, for obvious reasons, he kept you at a distance, only showing up in your room when he'd feel like losing his mind.
And that's exactly what he had done that night too. The police was right around the corner and he needed to get Ward on the plane with his sister's little friends. Ward seemed reluctant to let him go, seeming intent to let him know something.
"You're the man now." He climbed your window, expertly getting inside your room as those words kept echoing in his head. He was in a turmoil of feelings and thoughts and all he wanted to do was forget, forget, forget.
You didn't expect him to appear in your room like that, usually he'd text you before presenting himself there- also because he'd much rather your house to be empty and for your parents to not hear the sounds he'd make you let out. But he just didn't seem to care about that right now, not when his father fucked around with his mind again.
He was standing in your room, near the edge of your bed, panting with his messy bangs covering his eyes. You were silent, the book you were reading was now completely forgotten on your lap as you parted your lips to ask him what was going on. But just as you did that he silenced you again, pressing aggressively his lips onto yours. His hands clawing and traveling on your body urgently, moving under your shirt, pulling the hem of it frustratedly as you weren't helping him that much with making him forget.
You stood there, taken aback as you didn't know what to do. You tried to kiss him back, but you gave up as he was being too aggressive.
The moment he pulled away, you were able to see his face for the first time. His eyes were two pools of stormy weather, his eyebrows were twisted in a frustrated expression. He let out a huff, getting up from your bed and turning away from you, mumbling about how useless you were. You knew he didn't mean those words, he was trying to take out his anger- or whatever the fuck it was he was having- on you, but still it stung, and you refused to let yourself be treated like that.
Normally you wouldn't have done it, or at least you would've thought twice before acting on your impulses as you knew how susceptible he was when in that state. But you got up as well and grabbed his arm and stopped him from completely turning away from you.
You notice right away the way he tightened his jaw, the way his eyes closed and he breathed through his nose, yet you didn't back down as you slowly made him turn back towards you. What stunned you was the way he wasn't opposing to it.
You waited patiently for him to open his eyes, and when he did you noticed the glassy surface of them. You were able to somehow read him sometimes, you could tell what he wanted by the way his eyes were, but right now? You felt like you were in a fucked-up dream after a night out.
You placed tentatively a hand on his cheek, cupping it softly, but he was quick to the deny that and turn his face away. You looked at him, your eyes screaming at him to tell you what was going on but he wasn't looking at you anymore.
You let go of his arm, instead you placed both of your hands on his shoulders and pushed down, making him sit down on your bed. You got in between his legs, and placed both of your hands on his cheeks, making him look up at you.
You were silent, the both of you, as you searched his eyes and searched inside them for something that could lead you on the cause of his behaviour.
"Take a deep breath and tell me what happened." Your whisper broke through the silence as you looked down at him. His jaw tightened again, he was refusing to be vulnerable in front of anyone, let alone you. And that stung too.
But just as you were about to give up for the time being and let him have his space, his hands snaked around your waist and he brought you closer to him until he could bury his face in your tummy, tightening his arms around you as he held onto you for dear life.
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aurawrawr · 4 months
Text
Cremate me in your arms
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna x afab! brown reader
Too much confidence and simping has led to this second part. And I hope to do it justice. The following fic features an established relationship so to understand the dynamics and origins, find the first part here.
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Minors, DNI. Word count: 4k
CW: generalized themes of death, murder and the likes, established relationship, dub-con, sex with Sukuna's true form, breast play, PIV, creampie, oral (m! receiving), mutual orgasms, worship, devotion, insecurity, jealousy, arguments, breeding kink, pregnancy, major character death, mention of sati (the ancient Hindu ritual of the very alive, and likely young, wife walking into the funeral pyre of her dead husband)
it gets really dark and angsty towards the end; i'm sorry
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King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who is astounded by how well you take his true form. He stuffs you with one of his cocks while the other slides along your puffy lips. He holds your breasts in two hands, toying with your pebbled nipples, while the other two keep your body in place as he rams into you. He loves your fluttery kisses, the way you grab on to his beyond broad shoulders, struggle to keep your head from lolling, back arching. He has a devilish grin on his face and abs as he empties his heavy tight sacks inside you. Again and again.
Now that he has seen your face at the height of your pleasure, he wants it no other way. He doesn't need a surface anymore, he carries you around as he fucks. And you don't complain. You'll take him as he presents himself to you, human form or curse. You're his to have. But is he yours?
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who makes you look at him in front of Uraume-hime, because he knows you're insecure about them. Although, he does get a kick out of when he summons you to his chambers after locking himself in with the Oiran for hours. How needy you become. How territorial. And he pretends he didn't hear your soft pacing outside his doors only moments before, didn't see your shadow pass over the patio. They don't do anything that'd challenge your relationship with your Ryo-sama. In fact, most of the time, he makes Uraume do their books in his chambers just to see your flushed face afterward, your impatient grinding against his bulge, your willingness to take him in your mouth even though you choke every time you try.
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who is luminous with bliss about his playful belle. You are ticklish on your tummy and he makes avid use of that when waking you up in the mornings. His extra mouth licks around, dipping occasionally into your belly button, making you laugh and squirm.
"What is this mouth for, Ryo-sama?" You ask once, feeding it potato fritters you had made that evening.
"It's to eat you out a second time when this mouth is tired." Ryo-sama is goofy now. You're no more scared of him like you used to be.
"Ryo-sama!" You've even been given the liberty to rebuke him every now and then, and you take full advantage of it.
He laughs. "It's my mouth, Paro." He points to his face. "This mouth is my brother's. Everything about me that's remotely human is my brother. The monster is the real me."
"Brother?" You've never heard of one before.
"Yes, my love. The brother I ate in my mother's womb. You see, I was supposed to be one of twins but when they pulled me out, I was covered in blood. My mother's, of course, and that of my brother. He reincarnated when I changed, finally enacting his revenge and locking me in this unsightly form."
You drop the chopsticks from your hand, and lean into his frame to kiss his mouth, the one on his stomach. Then, rise to kiss the un-human part of his face, the skin rough to your lips but it doesn't matter to you. To you, it's an act of reverence. He closes all his eyes and you place pecks on the lids of the ones he calls monstrous. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."
Ryo-sama laughs, his whole body shaking. He rests one hand on your shoulder while two others pull you down on him. "That's because, for some inexplicable reason, you're in love with me."
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who whole-heartedly supports your new project. It strokes his ego when you show your excitement about your new religion with him as the God. Cult, to be completely honest. Regardless, you've painted him, the form you most wish to worship. Where you see a benevolent guardian deity, he sees a grotesque monster. Really, beauty must be in the eyes of the lover.
"What do you want from me, Paro?" He asks one day, smoking opium from his pipe, blowing it out of the open window. You are writing an essay in Hiragana for your tutor to go over later. Your handwriting has improved a lot; even Ryo-sama acknowledges so. When you look up at him questioning, he sighs. "You know, if you want to leave, I won't stop you, right? I could never bring myself to harm you."
"Why would I leave, my Lord? I want to be by your side. Do you not want me here?"
"I have used your body for my own pleasure since your first day here, demanded that you learn a language to better my experience in the bedroom. I have been miserable to you for several weeks before suddenly springing a confession and my true form upon you. Putting up with me must be exhausting. And yet, you stay. There must be something you want. Fame, protection, wealth, what is it? Tell me. I promise I won't be disappointed."
You're speechless. For as long as you've been with Sukuna-sama, this is the first time his words have hurt you. "You doubt my devotion, my Lord." Your eyes water as you try very hard to keep looking at him. But you can't, so you concentrate on the wavering shadow on the wall behind him. The tears fall anyway.
"Paro, that's not... Please don't..."
Your writing equipment clatters as you get on your feet, running out of his room. The ink spills, seeps into the silk of your sitting mat.
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who would kill for you, burn the world for you, and he knows better to do it behind your back because you shouldn't have to deal with the guilt. So he crushes the heads of mortals who speak ill of you, choke to death those who plot to maim you, and put your life in danger. Uraume-hime may not be too fond of you but they're loyal to Sukuna-sama and will execute his orders with precision; they keep an eye out for you, sneer at you when you look their way but protect you nonetheless.
When Ryo-sama finds you that night, you've already been in your bath for far too long. Your skin has pruned, your eyes are red-rimmed from all the crying; your newly appointed lady-in-waiting has requested you to come out several times lest you catch a cold but you've paid her no attention. You want to catch a cold, you want to suffer. If Ryo-sama wants you to leave, then you'll go away for good.
"Kiero." He orders the woman before settling himself beside your tub. Resting his arms and chin on the edge, he looks at you but doesn't say anything. You don't either; you only sniffle and wipe your tears and snot away with the back of your hand.
"Can I get a few days' time to find a job elsewhere before I have to leave?"
"No."
Your exhales are shaky. "In the morning then, Sukuna-sama."
"Sukuna-sama? Is that how mad you are at me?" He holds your face in his hand. You want to flinch, turn away, deny him any touch but you crave for his skin too. If you are to leave in the morning, you will never have it again so you might as well let him take you one last time.
"Who am I to be mad at you? I should have known this was going to happen."
"What should you have known?"
"That you'll lose interest in me. I'm not strong, after all. I don't have Uraume-hime's curse techniques. I'm just a puny, filthy—"
He sits up, offering his lips to you but you don't give in. "I don't want you to leave." If he really doesn't have a heart, what is this tightening around his chest? What is this fear?
"But if I do leave, you won't stop me. That's how unimportant I am to you. That's how disposable."
"I lied. I won't know left from right if I lose you. I have a plan for when, and if ever, you try to leave. It's from that story you told me about your Goddess of Destruction." He smiles against your lips. "I will lie down on the ground, in front of you, like her husband did. And you can't step on or over me, so you won't leave."
"I'll turn and walk in a different direction." You know your heart is softening. You're putty in Ryo-sama's hands, under his manipulations.
"I'll stop you, Paro. I'll change positions, get up and lie down in different spots every time you turn. Can I kiss you now?" His lips are so close but you must hold your ground.
"What about when I die?" You've always known he'll outlive you, and that's the dream of every devoted lover, is it not? But there's another dream you have. You don't want to leave him completely alone when you die. You know he's too strong and doesn't really need anybody, but that doesn't mean he has to be lonely.
Sukuna-sama sits back. There's not a day when he doesn't think about this, when he doesn't shudder just from the thought of seeing your lifeless body, your once beautiful face cold and pale from having your breath snatched from your lungs. The only answer that he comes up with is to use his Reverse Jujutsu and revive you but how many times can he do that? He is stuck in an invulnerable form but you will eventually be too old and frail to want to live any longer. "Whatever you want, Paro. I can bring you back, or let you rest."
You pretend to toy with a thought while he stares at your face. You've had an idea for quite some time. Back home, you'd have had to step into the blazing funeral pyre of your dead husband. But what can you do if he's an undying God? "Fire doesn't harm you, my Lord?" You know the answer, but you still ask to confirm. He shakes his head, wondering where you're going with this. "Cremate me in your arms then, Ryo-sama. I don't want a pyre; I want to be in your arms when I die."
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who comforts you, holds your shaking body with all his arms and rocks you when you cry for your mother. Unbeknownst to you, he has sent many of his people — curses and curse users alike — to the brothel in Bengal you had mentioned your mother worked at. But to no avail. He never told you this and doesn't plan to, ever, unless he actually finds your mother. You shouldn't have to know that your fears of never seeing her again might be true.
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who knows no real God would ever listen to him. Still, he whispers a soft "Kami-sama" in your name every morning. He doesn't need a God to protect you but why risk it? Your new project has harbored a lot of attention, and not only the good kind. It makes him worry about your safety. He sends two of his most notorious curse-users with you every time you step out of his palace. He throws a fit every time he notices you're dressing for grocery shopping or to go oversee the building of his shrine. He can always send someone else, why do you need to go?
He impatiently paces the yard when you're on one of your trips until he hears the slow drag of the heavy front door, and your cheerful chattering with the guards. How you maintain your optimism and enthusiasm even while living with the epitome of negativity is beyond him. He needs you for this, to clear the smoke of his desolation, the stillness of his immortality.
"Ryo-sama." You walk up to him. "There was good cow meat in the market. What kind of curry would you like, my Lord?"
"You don't have to cook cow for me, my love. Aren't they your God's pets?"
"Yes, my Lord, but for you—"
"It's decided then. We won't consume cows in this household anymore."
You smile wryly. "After I die then."
You have been speaking of your death every so often, to the point where Sukuna-sama has had to summon the medic that he calls a quack several times over a month to evaluate your physical health. And every time, the charlatan has informed him that you're perfectly healthy. So he's decided that every time you say something about dying, he will medicate you in his own way.
He seizes your wrist and pulls you to his bedchamber. He strips you down to your breast band and loincloth. He transforms because he knows you enjoy having him touch you with so many arms that it feels like he's consuming you. But then you say something that makes him stop in his tracks. "Is there something wrong with me, Ryo-sama?"
"Did somebody say something to you?" His voice goes cold. You shake your head but refuse to meet his eyes. "Tell me the bastard's name and I'll send them a nice present."
"It's nobody, my Lord. Just me."
"What's wrong?" He tilts your face upward. He sounds demanding.
"It's... It's been over a year since... since you've first been with me, my Lord. And yet..." Your voice quivers, tears starting to gather on the cusp of your eyelid. "And yet, every month... on the night of the waxing gibbous, I bleed. Why can't I give you a child? What's wrong with me?"
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who is bothered by nothing. He's squashed many an eyesore under his thumb. Nothing gives him the ick, except for the water pooling in your eyes. This is the second time he's made you cry and he hates himself for it. For, it's not you who's wrong, inadequate, unfit to have a child. It's him. He's been so afraid of harming you with his cursed essence, he's been manipulating it so as to not impregnate you with a cursed womb.
"We're different, my dear." He tries again. "It's not that there's something wrong with you. It's our union that won't bear a healthy child."
Your heart breaks. Even though you try to hide it, Sukuna-sama sees it on your face. "I see, my Lord. I guess I was worrying for nothing." You put a smile on your face but it doesn't stay. With every passing day, you grow sadder. He notices it in your destitute of smiles, your limp enthusiasm in his arms, your shaky silhouette after he puts you to sleep.
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who never, not even during his human life, wanted for a family, but your words have moved him. For a few years of his eternity, he can see himself being a loving father, and a doting husband. So this time, he approaches you.
"Paro." He pulls you to him one night as you two are resting after dinner. You have been fixated on making an army of origami swans but when he seeks your attention, you give it to him easily. You drop your half-folded swan and he springs the question on you. "Will you be my bride?"
You say, yes, because there's no reason to lie.
The ceremony is chaste. You follow rituals of both your cultures. When flakes of his sindoor fall on your nose, you smile. He already loves you; you don't need more proof.
His chambers have been extended to accommodate you and when you get to your bedroom, you notice the flower petals on the sheets, just like you had once told him happens back home. Sukuna-sama takes you by the hand and makes you sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, like he had the first time he had shown you his reality. By the warmth on his usually hardened face, it's clear he has something to tell you. "Paro," he whispers, "do you still want to have my child?" Again, there's no reason to lie. "It might hurt you, my love."
"I can take it, Ryo-sama." You take his hand. "I... I've seen women in the throes of labor. I can endure that."
"It won't be the labor of a human birth, my love. Or have you forgotten who your Ryo-sama is? It's true that the heart I don't have in me is compensated by the kindness of your spirit but our child will be a monster at its very core."
"You and I will raise them right, my Lord."
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who has never been soft in bed but for you and for the child you wish to bear, he is willing to change his ways. He envelopes you with kisses, keeps your hips lifted with a pillow beneath your rear. He whispers your name and you whisper his. You touch his arms, his strong, protective arms, his chest, the heart behind it that only you've seen, his waist thrusting into you so lovingly. "Harder, Ryo-sama." You're aching for him, for the warmth of his seed. "Harder, please." He increases his pace, buries his face in your neck, groans as he releases inside you. He has done this before, every time, but this feels different, it feels fruitful.
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who expects himself to keep his calm always. But when you tell him you haven't bled in two moons, he is beside himself with joy. He picks you up in his arms and twirls you, wants to run out and tell the whole world what a miracle you are. But he knows nobody would rejoice in the news of him furthering his lineage. Only you. And that's enough for him.
As the months pass and you grow heavier, his happiness only increases. He makes everything perfect for you, caters to your every need and want. He tends to the ache in your back, relieves the soreness in your breasts, even massages your feet. But he notices changes in your mien. You spend longer outside of home. He knows you're in the new temple but what you do behind the closed doors of the shrine, nobody can tell him. Not even the guards he sends with you. When he asks you, you only shrug and tell him that you've been praying. He knows you have an idol of your God situated in the same chambers as the idol of him and there's also a priest you’ve met recently, so he doesn’t question it anymore.
But when you decide to walk out the night you’re supposed to deliver, he panics. “Where are you going?” He calls out as you’re about to step out of your room. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go into the labor room? I’ve arranged for midwives from your home, priests to handle any rituals you want to partake in and yet… It feels as if you have other plans.”
“I’m only going to pray, Ryo-sama.” You drape a robe over your bump.
“Pray here. I’ll send Uraume to get your God.”
“No.” You lose your usual softness. “I’ll only be gone for an hour or so.”
“And what if your liquor breaks in that one hour?”
“The priest will help me.”
“The priest you don’t allow anyone to meet?” He is losing his calm too. 
“I’ve told you the reason, haven’t I? It'll be futile meeting the priest who's supposed to carry out rituals in your name.”
He is exasperated. He shouldn’t have let you have this much power over him. “At least let me come with you. I’ll wait outside.”
“That doesn’t look good for the King of Curses, my Lord.”
“Who’s going to tell me that?”
“I will. The mother of your child. Please, my Lord, I beg of you. I know the labor will be easier if I just spend some time with my God alone.”
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who knew love is worthless. Then why did he ever let himself love you? Why did he give in to your wishes? Why did he not force your hand when you acted against his orders? Why did he let you be the only human who could make him kneel?
When the hour is up and you’ve not returned, he storms out of his palace, trident in hand. If he has to threaten you for you to come back to him, he will. But he doesn’t get the chance to. When he reaches the steps of the shrine, the dread in his chest rises to his ears, ringing like bells of a temple in the storm. The establishment is in ruins, the guards who were with you had been slashed through their necks so brutally, their heads had tossed away from the rest of their bodies. He rushes up the stairs, trips. His weapon falls from his hand when he looks inside. The walls have been painted with blood. He can tell it’s your blood from the scent. A terror-stricken groan rises from his throat. His chest is even more hollow now. 
“Paro.” He finds your mangled body up against the wall furthest from the door and scoops you up in his arms. “Paro. My love. My heart. My miracle.” He cries out. Long gone is the King of Curses; these are the desperate howls of a grieving husband. “Who… who did this?”
There’s some life left in you. And even if there isn’t, he is more than willing to bring you back. Not only because you must live, but also because they who did this to you, must die. And he will do it, he will go to the ends of this world and the next, and find the lowlife who dared to touch his Paro, the love of his immortality, his Queen of Blessings.
He touches your chest to revive you but you seize his wrist. “Ryo-sama.” You gurgle up through the seas of blood in your throat. He leans into you to let you touch his face, rub away his tears like you have removed the darkness from his soul. You manage a smile at the end of your breath. “You were right, Ryo-sama. I birthed a monster. But... he's still... my son.”
“Who did this to you? The brat?”
You slowly shake your head. “I was… so blind, so foolish. The… the priest. He was… after our son. Promise me… Ryo-sama. You will avenge… me. You… will… protect our son… for me.”
“Avenge you, I will. But right now, I’m bringing you back.”
“No.” You cough up, splattering blood across his face. “I’m… your weakness.”
“No, no–” You shush him with a hand over his lips.
“I am… your weakness. I am your disease. Let me go… and become what you must. For Yuji.”
“Yuji?”
“Our… son. Find him… please… and protect him. Make him… a little human. The priest…” You cough again, clutching the robe at your empty womb. “He had… stitches… across his forehead.”
Sukuna-sama knew him, the curse with stitches on his forehead. He will find him and kill him, even if it takes him a thousand years.
“You… promised me… one more thing… Ryo-sama.”
His eyes water at your request, the bloody smile on your lips he knows will haunt him for all of eternity. Love is worthless but you are not. You’ve taught him hope, you’ve shown him kindness, the selfless love that he knew was not for him to have. You’ve proved to him that to love and be loved is to change. “Must I?” He asks and you nod. He loses to you. Once again. 
“I love you. I’ve loved you before I knew you, and I will love you after you’re gone. I will find you if you’re ever reborn but I will pray to any God that listens to me that they don’t send you here again. This world doesn’t deserve you. And I will punish them for it. Sleep well, my love.” He kisses your forehead.
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna, feared by all, respected by some but loved by one. His atrocities are well-known, written and spoken about through ages. Even years later, people remember the villages he burned that night, the blaze crimson red like the petals of spider-lilies, the screams of the people louder than the crackling of the fire. He did that out of mindless rage, everyone says. They are wrong. He did that out of love.
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please don't copy my work, or publish it elsewhere without my consent. all banners are from pinterest.
i'm sorry i had so much fun writing this
tagging (because you guys seemed to like the first part): @ghostslillady @iwonmx @kariatenoh @pearlsxandxpeonies
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whytheballs-mars · 2 months
Text
Dinner Date ♡ JasonToddxfem!reader
okay, I've never really written smut before, but this is based off a convo i had with a CAI bot !
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just sum pics of pookie from pinterest 🤭
a/n: this is way longer then i wanted it to be and i don't really like it but wtv
18+
Tw- smut(duh), exhibition, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), p in v, pre-established relationship, swearing, brief mentions of violence
don't read this if you're a minor.
In all the years you two have been dating, you two don't really have a lot of time for actual dates. Tonight, however, he got dinner reservations for you two at one of the fanciest places in Gotham. He went the whole 9 yards for you! (as he always does) He took you shopping for a new, pretty red dress and bought you a new matching set to go underneath, which he says also makes up for the last set he tore.
Everything was going great - except Jason loathed the way your guys' waiter has been staring at you. Jason's manorisms have slowly been changing throughout the course of dinner. He's just been getting more jealous by the second. You're talking to him about the book you just read, as he eats his pasta.
"...Jay? Are you even paying attention?" You ask him.
"mhm" he lies, being very vague with his awnsers. He doesn't want to ruin your date with him just because of his jealousy, so he's not going to bring it up. You probably did say something of value, but all Jason had heard was... what did he hear? nothing because he was too focused on that damn waiter. The waiter who made sure your wine glass was topped off even if you just had a sip. He fucking hated it. Jason even told the waiter to leave the damned bottle at the table just so he could fill your glass for you.
"Uh huh sure," you reply as you nudge his foot under the table, expecting to be met with an equally playful nudge from Jason. Instead, he pulled his foot away from yours, and his mouth made its way into a frown.
You frown in response, just slightly upset that he pulled away, causing you to wonder what's wrong.
"Jason?"
"What?" He says- much snappier then he wanted it to be.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just thinking"
The lies had started now, the two of you playing a game of cat and mouse. He wasn't going to give in until you pried harder, which he couldn't blame you for. He was being quite the bastard right now.
"About what?"
"Just... Things..." Jason chewed another piece of his pasta, swallowing before he spoke yet again. "Things that don't really matter." He continues.
"It obviously matters if it's making you upset."
"I'm fine."
Jason's face twisted into a scowl. His tone was getting harsher by the minute. Was he really going to have to explain the obvious? Was it not obvious to you that the God damn waiter was staring at you? with his eyes blown, like he wanted to fuck you? when the waiter had to have known that the only man that would ever be fucking you was sitting right across from the gorgeous woman he was staring at.
You get up and move over to his side of the booth, wanting a bit more privacy and to comfort him more. Jason glanced up at you, his eyes meeting yours as you finally made your way to where he sat. His fork was still in his hand, so you had to be careful when you leaned over to sit beside him. You got the sense that he was still keeping his guard up with this whole ordeal.
Jason is gripping his fork tightly, so you gently place a hand on top of his to remove it. Once his hands are free you take both of his hands in yours. His body tensed when you took his fork away from him, but when you reached for his hands... His grip loosened. Jason sighed deeply. It was clear this was finally the moment that the truth would finally be revealed. But something about the look in your eyes tells him that you might already know. You lean into him and whisper.
"Would you feel better if after this place closes you jump that guy as Red Hood?" And as those words fall from your lips, a smirk grows on Jason's lips. It's taking everything he has in him to not bash that dammed waiters head into the table right now.
Jason chuckled softly at your suggestion, letting out a deep and audible sigh of relief. The whole act of keeping this from you was draining. He felt so much lighter now that you understood what the deal was.
He kissed your forehead, leaning into you as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "Let's do exactly that."
You smile as he kisses your forehead. You kiss his cheek before leaning back, and crossing your right leg over his thigh.
"How's your pasta?"
His eyes flickered to his pasta as you asked. He hadn't taken a bite of it since you had leaned over to talk to him, but he nodded anyway. It really wasn't bad.
"Delicious." He finally said. Jason's gaze flicked back up to yours, his hand moving from your shoulder to your leg.
"Could i get a bite?" You ask. Jason's mouth curls into a grin as he picks his fork back up and twirls some pasta onto it. He holds the fork and offers it to you. You take the bite, chew it, and swallow it.
"It's not as good as yours... but i guess it's still pretty good." You say. (WE ALL KNOW JASON IS A FUCKING FENOMENAL COOK)
"Well no, but you came here for me, not the pasta right?" He says as he caresses your thigh, gently, and lovingly.
"i came for both- plus your kinda my ride."
"But the main reason is me, right?" He chuckled and leaned in, pressing his lips against the side of your neck.
"mhm" you hum as your fingers find your way to his hair.
His tongue lightly licked at the skin of your neck, he bites down gently, only to lick over the spot he bit.
"Whatcha doin'?" You ask.
"Just..." Jason's tongue moved up to your ear and brushed over it, his voice becoming low and husky as he leaned closer in. "Teasing you."
"it's working"
"Good." Jason purred softly, his tongue lightly flicking over the skin of your neck. He moves his hands from your thigh to your waist, gripping you tightly. "That's my intention."
"Though this isn't exactly a great place," you say, referring to the fact that youre're in the middle of a restaurant.
"It's not, but I don't really care about that right now. Right now, all that matters is you." Jason smirked as he lightly bit at your earlobe, his finger lightly moving along the sides of your waist, slightly tugging at the fabric.
"let's at least finish our food before we get kicked out"
"That would be a wise decision." Jason smiled softly, bringing his head back up and looking down back at you with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure the waiters been looking at us for the past five minutes straight, anyway." He continues as he sits back and looks at his pasta.
"Has he?" A smirk grows on your face as you reach over the table to pull your dish to the side of the booth you're now sitting on.
"Mhm." Jason nodded his head. "The minute you sat down next to me, he hasn't taken his eyes off of you. I wonder what he'd do if I got a bit more... Hands-on with you."
"...our lawyer- he's good right?" You ask.
"The best." Jason smirked. "He'll make sure to bail us out, if that's what you're wondering about." You smirk back at Jason, giving him a once-over. You see the tent growing in his pants and you place your hand on his thigh.
"Eat your pasta" you say.
Jason's leg jumped ever so slightly as you placed your hand on his thigh. "You could've... You know..." Jason said, his voice low and husky. "Put your hand somewhere else."
"You're so impatient." You say dragging your hand towards the inside of his thigh and sliding up to cup his member in his pants.
Jason's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes widening in surprise as he almost lost his grip on his fork. He stared directly at you as he felt you touching him like that.
"If anyone had seen that..."
"Seen what?" You reply innocently as you begin to palm him through his pants. You pick up a fork with your free hand and begin eating your meal again. Jason's mouth goes slightly agap. Fuck, if you aren't driving him up a god damn wall right now- he tries his best to eat the rest of his meal despite your movements. Soon, you finish your meal and drink some water before haphazardly throwing your fork under the table.
"Oh shit." You say before bending down under the table, making sure Jason sees your ass sits before going completely under the table and on your knees in front of him.
Jason's eyes widened at the action, his neck snapped down to look and see you as you went completely beneath the table. His breath hitched in his throat as he let out a soft groan, just at the sight. Fuck his girlfriend is so pretty, and if he wasn't already diamond hard he sure as fuck is now.
You place your hands on his knees and place your head between his thighs. Your hands trail to his waistband. Jason's body tightened as your hands traveled along his thighs. His mouth went dry the moment he saw you go down there. The last time you did this type of thing was back when you two first started this relationship. And you'd thought you were pretty skilled then. But this? This was beyond your expectations.
"Is the waiter watching?" You ask Jason.
"Doesn't matter really... Just keep doing what you're doing."
Your voice from beneath him was incredibly hot, making him squirm and shiver as you talked like that. He liked the way you felt so confident about things like this, how you knew exactly when and where to touch him. But it was very clear that the waiter had been watching for a good two minutes now.
Your fingers unbutton his pants slowly and tug down the fabric of his jeans. You begin jerking him through his underwear before pulling his length out of his pants. You give him a few strokes and kiss his tip, swirling your tounge around his tip before placing your hands on his hips and shoving about half his length down your throat and you begin bobbing your head up and down on him. His hands find their way into your hair, and yank it into a make shift pony. His other hand grips the cushion he's sitting on to try and stop himself from thrusting into your mouth. Which works for a few seconds.
Not only is the waiter now watching, but many other guests are turning their heads to watch you. Some can't seem to look away, and why would they when you're taking such a big dick down your throat so fucking well? The others are the ones with children who cover their child's eyes and lead them out the door as they leave a few hundreds on the table, nit even bothering to actually pay.
Jason's body jolted as his eyes widened, his stomach tightening and his chest becoming flush. He was surprised at the lack of control he had to keep himself from going over the edge, but it also wasn't too much of a surprise, considering what you were doing. He leaned back in his chair, trying to avoid the stares of those in the restaurant as best as he could, his eyes were glued squarely on you. Solely focusing on how fuckin pretty you looked gagging on his cock as he fucked your mouth.
Soon he's shooting ropes of cum into your mouth. You swallow it and lick him clean before placing his length back in his pants, buttoning them back up and sitting back up next to him.
His eyes are a bit glossed over as he looks at you. Jason was at a loss for words as you did this. You had done this a thousand times, and yet you still managed to blow his mind with it every time. His breath was deep and quick, his heartbeat still pounding in his chest as he tried to keep himself together. The only difference between those times and now, was all the eyes on you. Jason tried to pretend otherwise, but he couldn't. The stares were too intense to just brush off. He could swear he saw a mother cover her child's eyes and another kid pointing, asking his dad "what is that woman doing?"
The waiter's jaw had gone completely slack, his eyes locked onto the scene that was only a few feet away from him. He didn't care how long he sat there and watched, and it would've been a while before he'd have the guts to break his gaze. The few people at neighboring tables had leaned in, their eyes locked on you two.
Jason places his hands on the table and shakes it. You two have already gone this far? Why not go further? Jason determines that the table is sturdy enough. Jason smirked as his eyes looked your outfit up and down. Your dress was quite tight and the folds looked as though they would come up very easily, a fact that hadn't slipped Jason's notice during the meal. "how far are we going to take this?" He asks in a whisper.
"Well, we already have all the charges for the police" You whisper back.
"Let's give 'em one hell of a performance huh, love?" He kisses you passionately and pulls you onto his lap. The kiss is a clash of teeth, gum, and tongue. He reaches an arm out behind you to clear a spot at the table, lifting you up and setting you on the table. He pulls away from the kiss once you're on your back. He pushes the empty plates and glasses from his beer and your wine off the table. They crash to the floor and break. As soon as the table is cleared, he flips you onto your stomach, pulls your dress up, and your panties down. He positions himself on his knees on the booth.
So far, no one has made a move or an attempt to interrupt the whole thing. The waiters eyes remained glued on you two, and it was clear that the others in the restaurant were as well.
He ruts his hips against your now bare ass, accentuating his movements with small grunts. He grabs your jaw harshly and forces you to face him so he can give you a bruising kiss. Jason's hand tightens around your jaw as he pulls you over to him. A loud groan escapes from your throat as you were forced into his intense grip, his tongue slipping into your mouth.
The waiter's face was now bright red as he continued to watch the two of you. Jason's hips continue to gently and rhythmically rock against your behind, his tongue searching and exploring every part of your mouth. His hold on you is tight, his grip around your jaw becoming tighter and tighter as he continues to move his hips.
You need him inside of you, and he knows that too damn well. He pulls away from the kiss to free his cock from his pants. He rubs his length through your lips, collecting the wetness before pushing into you slowly. Jason moans softly grinding his hips and pushing deeper inside you as he feels you greedily taking him in. His hips slam against your soft curves. "shit- so tight baby," he says quietly, to which you can only keen in response.
The only thing that falls from your lips are gasps, and moans. You try your best to stiffle them you really do, but how can you when he's so fucking good? When the way his hips slam into you, it moves your body back and forth on the table? you're not gonna be quite- plus, what's the point? Everybody who hasn't left is watching.
Some are even pulling their phones out and recording. No one has been able to tear their eyes from the two of you. Why would they when they're seeing and watching, how well Jason's dick hits all the right spots, the way the both of you are reacting.
Jason has his head in the space between your neck and shoulder, kissing and biting as much as he can. His pace is relentless, and his hand finds its way between your body and the table to rub you're clit.
You're both sent over the edge soon. You're pussy clenching around him and milking him for all he's worth. Someone is screaming, as your climax hits you and you can't tell if it's your own voice or someone else's. It doesn't take very long after this for Jason to let out a deep, satisfied shudder as he finishes. His breath is quick and sharp. Hearing his breath brings you back and you realize you were the one who screamed. In the middle of a restaurant.
The whole restaurant sat almost in dead silence as they watched you two finish. Even the waiter's eyes were wide and mouth was agape as he watched you two finish.
The only sound in the restaurant was the sounds of your two bodies slapping together as he slowly fucks you through both of your highs, the slight sound of the table shaking with each movement of the two, and that of a woman who had just lost it in the back, probably someone watching from the kitchen window based on sound.
"You okay?" Jason finally found the chance to ask you in a breathless voice.
Some of the customers were still staring, the waiter included, but it seemed as though they didn't want to leave or move at all. They didn't want to take their eyes off of you two.
You nod slowly and he pulls out of you slowly.
"shit" you say, panting as he helps you back into the booth, pulling your dress back down, but your panties seem to be missing. You look at him and raise your eyebrows at him. He doesn't notice this due to the fact that he's pulling his pants up. He takes your face in his hands and presses a few soft kisses over your face before landing on your lips and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
You and Jason are both in shock that no one has told you to stop, or call the police or anything. Jason's stomach tightened at the thought of possibly having the cops called. But after a few second it became clear what was happening. They were too surprised to actually do anything.
No one was looking away from you. Some of them were whispering to each other. A few mouths were hung open, though almost none were eating. They're all just watching, stunned by what had just happened.
"can we please get the check" You say, now just wanting to get the fuck out of this restaurant.
After a small period of hesitation, the waiter finally walks over to your table. He hesitates a bit to speak, but after taking a deep breath he finally manages to say one word.
"Yes. One moment." He walks away, still a bit red in the face.
Once the waiter leaves you turn to Jason.
"Do you happen to know where my panties are?" You ask him.
Jason's eyes widened as a smile spread across his lips. "I, um, might have some ideas." He says as he looks at the space between your thighs and, seeing the mixture of yours and his cum, is enough to make him hard again. But he quickly snapped back to your face when you narrowed your eyes at him, knowing you want more of an explanation then just that.
"I did say I might have some ideas, but those ideas could include me having put them in my pocket."
"you're an asshole"
"maybe," he says with a shrug as he subconsciously places a protective hand over the pocket where your panties are. (Yeah, he's not gonna let you put them back on... at least now now.)
The waiter returned with the check and dropped it on the table, quickly walking away again while avoiding eye contact. He soon returns and places a bowl of... chocolate syrup? just a bowl of chocolate syrup. Jason places his card on top of the bill, and looks at the chocolate with an almost confused look.
"Jay did we order this?" You ask. You're confused, but it also reminds you of when you and Jason first started dating. He was a stone top- always found his way to placing his head between your gorgeous thighs. When you first gave him head, he poured chocolate syrup on his dick- he said he wanted it to be sweet for you. He talked you through it- and you're wet again just thinking about it.
"No... it's not on the bill and isn't even on the menu." He replies. The waiter comes back to collect his card and does tap to pay on a tablet.
"Why have we been given this. We didn't order it." Jason asks the waiter in an even voice, looking the waiter in the eyes.
The waiter shifted uncomfortably. He was used to the more outspoken customers. Ones who would yell and curse and storm out over minor incidents. But Jason was different. Jason was quiet, firm and intimidating. And it was making the waiter quite nervous.
"This is for your performance." The waiter answered nervously, shifting in place slightly.
Jason's eyebrows tilted downwards at that, his expression serious.
"Our... performance?" He was making sure the waiter had heard him correctly.
The waiter shrugged awkwardly. "Well, we've never really had anyone do what you did here before, so my manager thought this would be suitable to your, uh... performance."
The waiter was very clearly nervous and seemed as though he would rather be anywhere else right now. He was sweating slightly, and he was blinking in a bit too much.
"what are we supposed to do with a bowl of chocolate syrup?" Jason asks.
The waiter seemed to swallow, having almost expected to be scolded right now. Instead, that hadn't happened.
"You could lick it off of each other... if you wanted to."
Pt. 2? idk why but my dms and comments aren't working so I'll j post a poll later.
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selineram3421 · 9 months
Text
Fucking shit fuck- *slams face onto a table* FUCK! I did a thing. (This is the thing.)
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Alastor X Reader Oneshot
Warnings? ⚠
⚠ lingerie(no detail, imagine what you'd like), kisses, sugar with a little spice, -///- biting/licking, Alastor is a tease, cussing, fluff, soft Alastor ⚠
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In The Closet
You had bought the set for yourself.
Just something for you to feel good in and slip into if you wanted.
Today felt like you could wear it just for fun.
It was your day off, so you spent it mostly in Alastor's personal library. But it got a little boring and you decided that you wanted to be ✨extra✨ to make it fun.
So you went upstairs, over to your bedroom closet and pulled out a box, setting it on the bed. You turned back to the closet and flicked through the hangers until you found your favorite robe.
After putting everything on, you also took some comfortable but stylish shoes and wore them.
"This calls for a red drink.", you said to yourself before tying the robe closed and walking out of the room.
After getting your drink and pouring it into a wine glass, you went back to the library and searched for a new book.
This was a great idea. You thought, taking a sip of your drink.
It took a little longer than you thought but you eventually found a book that caught your interest and went to sit on the lounging couch, setting the glass on a nearby table before laying back and opening the book.
Hours had passed, the sky darkening and you didn't notice that your love had returned until he was in the room.
"Ahem."
You jumped in surprise before looking up and seeing your man in red.
"Alastor! When did you get back? I didn't hear you come in.", you said sitting up and setting the book down.
"Not too long ago my dear.", he replied and sat down next to you. "I was looking for you."
"Well, you found me.", you smiled. "How was your day?"
"Boring.", the deer demon sighed and pulled you into a hug. "All I did was paperwork and after I left the hotel some idiotic demon thought they could challenge me."
Leaning your head against his chest, you hummed and wrapped your arms around him. "I bet it was some new arrival.", you said closing your eyes.
"It most likely was, though I don't know how they didn't notice all the warning posters of me. Those are plastered everywhere.", he mumbled the last bit and placed a kiss on the top of your head. "What about you darling? How was your day off?"
"Hmm~", you sank deeper into his hold. "Mostly here in the library, but then it was a little boring. I got over it and came back to read."
He raised a brow at your lack of detail. "Got over it? Do tell."
You blinked your eyes open and blushed. "Its nothing important, I just found an easy way to get rid of it.", you pulled yourself a little ways back and reached for your book.
"No, no.", he took your outstretched hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles. "S’il te plaît dis moi mon amour~" (Please tell me my love~)
"Hmph-no", you pouted and went for the book again.
"You leave me no choice.", he says.
You were so close to getting the book and then you were lying on your back with the Radio Demon on top of you, kissing your neck.
"Now will you tell me?", he asks in between kisses, moving one hand to your waist while the other went up to your hand and interlocked your fingers.
"No-", you were cut off by a gasp, heart racing as you felt his teeth nip lightly at your neck. "No.", you said stubbornly, and placed your free hand on his chest.
"Why not?", he said, kissing his way to your collarbone. "Maybe it'll help me whenever I'm bored."
"Maybe it won't.", you mumbled and let out another gasp when he bit down a little harder on your collarbone.
"Mais sait-on jamais~", he said with heavy static in his voice. (But you never know/but who knows)
You shivered as he licked up your neck, face steaming.
He pulled back and looked down at you with a smug grin. "Now will you tell me?"
You blinked and gave him a nervous smile. "N-no?"
"Hm..we'll see.", he says with narrowed eyes and moves his hand down your leg but stops when feeling a clip. "What's this?", he asks and sits up.
You quickly hold the bottom of your robe closed with your free hand. "I-I'll tell you if you let me up!"
"Hmm..", he thought for a moment and held his hand out to shake. "I'll let you up and you'll tell me, deal?"
Geez.. You thought, face burning. "Deal.", you agreed and shook his hand.
He let you sit up and scooted back just a bit to give you some space.
"I can't believe you-", you huffed and started untying the knot. "Biting me and shit."
"You love it.", he quipped, holding his hands up in surrender when you sent a glare up at him. "I'm not wrong love."
You stood up after untying it, still holding the robe closed. "Promise not to laugh?", you glanced over at him.
"I promise, there is no need for you to worry.", he reassured gently taking one of your hands and kissing the palm of it. "Show me?"
You sighed and then nodded, turning to face him completely.
"I-I bought myself lingerie a bit ago. Before we got into a relationship a-and I got bored so I wanted to be dramatic.", you stuttered out, not looking him in the eye as you pulled the robe open.
"Chéri/e." (Darling)
You were pulled down onto his lap and the deer demon kissed you softly.
Insecurities drifting away as you reciprocated, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax, moving your hands up to hold his face.
"Lovely.", he sighed. "Absolutely breathtaking.", he said and began kissing along your jaw.
"Alastor.", you said out of breath, pushing him back on the chest lightly. "Let's stop. I-I'm overheating."
He sits back but keeps a hold on you, letting you cool down a bit. "You are devine my dearest.", he smiled with love in his eyes.
"Geez, you've got me steaming like a biscuit.", you puffed out your cheeks, face still flushed.
"My poor sweet, soft, dangerous, small demon.", he said and kissed the tip of your nose. "So easily flustered and overheated."
"Hmph.", you wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your chin on his shoulder. "I wanna see you try and not be flustered when wearing a corset and stockings. With the clips-"
"Oh?"
You froze, feeling yourself heat up again.
"You want me in a corset?", he asks.
Hiding your face against his neck, you mumble curses and hold onto him tighter.
Damn it all-
Alastor chuckles and rubs your back, pecking your shoulder. "I could, so we can both be dramatic."
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😳 Um.. *scrambles away* This is as far as they will go!
French translation might be wrong. Let me know if it is so I can fix it.
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@willowaudreykeyes @stolas-thebirb @c4rved-pumpk1n @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @biromanticboba @naelys-the-aster @scary-noodlesblog @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
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mint-yooxgi · 9 months
Text
{11} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Smut
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Wooyoung)
Words: 20,320
Warnings: Overstimulation, Face Sitting - Oral (fem. rec.), Wooyoung has a long tongue (think venom), OC gets a Lap Dance/Striptease, Dragon Dick (briefly), Switch Tendencies (from both of them), Massive Dirty Talk, Mirror Sex (technically speaking), Wall Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Praise, Wings (Does this count as Monster Fucking? I'm counting it as Monster Fucking), so much EMOTION, Mental Illness. PTSD: mentions of past trauma and allusions to past violence, anxiety, depression. I think that's everything This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: I do really hope you all enjoy this, as it turned out WAY longer than I ever anticipated. I do highly recommend listening to the songs mentioned in this chapter when they appear to get the full effect. Yeah... so... Wooyoung Stans, come get y'all juice, this man is one kinky mf... Also, he's a demon, so he CAN lift you, shush. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.
Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten
You don’t know how long you remain in the music room for, but by the time the sun is in the opposite corner of the sky, you can feel your stomach churning with hunger. You wager it’s now about mid-afternoon, Kuroo having left some time ago as you had continued to play different melodies on the piano. 
Yeosang had stayed with you for a little while, simply content to listen to you play as he gently stroked a hand over Kuroo’s fur. Of course, he was a little disgruntled when Yunho pulled him away with Mingi to spar with them for the afternoon. He had been quite enjoying this time with you far too much for his own good. 
Listening to you play is a dream come true. All that’s really left to do is play with you.
Now, as you begin to make your way out of the music room, you can feel the effect of not having eaten anything since breakfast this morning. Your hands are a little shaky, and you’re a little lightheaded. Your back is a little stiff from sitting on the piano bench for so long, too, but you haven’t felt this good in weeks. There’s a new lightness to each step you take, and you feel as if you could do anything right now.
Faintly, you can hear music coming from the dance studio as you walk by, and you risk a glance inside. The door remains closed, but the window does not obstruct your view of Wooyoung sitting on the floor. It appears as if he’s currently doing some stretches.
At the way his head darts up, gaze shifting towards the reflection of the door in the mirror, you’re quick to scurry down the hallway.
You feel a small heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head. Food first, then maybe, just maybe, you’ll finally brave the dance studio. Even so much as standing outside of it with the door open will be enough for you today. Despite how good you’re feeling, you don’t want to push yourself too far.
Reaching the kitchen, you’re quick to make yourself something to eat. A glass of water is placed beside you, refilling the cup once you’re finished. After a quick clean up, you stretch your back out one more time, cracking your neck while you’re at it.
This time, when you step out into the hallway, the music from the dance studio sounds the slightest bit louder. Though, it’s nothing compared to the sound of your racing heart.
Briefly, that horrid day with Miyeon flashes through your mind, and you take a deep breath.
You pause, shuffling from foot to foot with that glass of water held tightly in your hands. You cling onto it as you stare down into the clear liquid, worrying your bottom lip in the process. Then, in a moment of clarity, you steel your nerves, slowly traversing down the hallway once more.
She cannot hurt you anymore.
You discover that the reason the music sounds louder than before is because the door to the studio has now been left opened. It seems as if Wooyoung needed some fresh air.
The water in that glass sways slightly as your hand trembles. It’s barely noticeable, except for the way the level tips back and forth just beneath the rim of the glass.
You swallow your nerves, keeping your gaze so intently focussed on that cup for the moment. That is, until finally, you risk looking up.
Subconsciously, you shuffle forward to get a better glance at the male inside. Your lips part, and your breath catches in your throat as your eyes widen the slightest bit in awe. You don’t even realize you’ve leant yourself against the doorframe, the trembling in your hands stopping as the dancing male before you completely enraptures you for the time being.
He seems to be dancing some sort of contemporary choreography. Each extension of his body, such as the reaching of his arms in the air as if he’s desperately attempting to grasp onto something that keeps slipping through his fingers, is mesmerizing. You cannot even help the slight awe filled gasp that catches in your throat as he leaps through the air, his legs kicking out in succession behind him as his body twists elegantly with every movement.
You don’t recognize the song playing through the speakers, but just from the way he moves, you can tell that it means a lot to him. His eyes are closed as he loses himself to the music, and as the final notes ring out, you swear you see a single tear trail a path down the side of his cheek.
The only sound that now fills the silence of the room is his heavy breathing. His chest heaves as he remains in his final pose, his head tilted towards the floor with his back slightly slouched as he stands there looking almost defeated. His bright red hair, of which you noticed he changed only the other day, is pushed back from his face, a few stray strands framing his forehead as they begin to cling to his skin with sweat.
You take a moment to trail your gaze over him, observing him carefully. He wears a loosely fitted button up, a light blue in colour almost reminiscent of a denim material. The sleeves are rolled up halfway, showcasing his forearms. Light grey sweatpants with black and white stripes running down either side seem to cover his legs, yet his feet remain bare.
Blinking your eyes back into focus, you lift your head.
The first thing you notice is that Wooyoung seems to have shifted his gaze from the floor. Though, that’s not what catches you off guard. No, it’s the fact that he’s already looking directly at you in the reflection of the mirror as if he cannot believe his very eyes.
He turns almost instantly as soon as you meet his stunned stare in the mirror, the movement frantic and rushed. It’s as if he believes that he’s imagining things, and that once he turns to get a proper look at the entrance to the dance studio, you’ll no longer be there.
You can’t be standing there. It’s just another figment of his imagination from all of the times that he’s fantasized about this happening. It just isn’t possible.
The instant he sees that you’re still there, and that his vision is not playing tricks on him, he freezes. You can physically hear the hitch in his breath as his whole body stills, his wide eyes never leaving your figure for even one second.
He blinks. Once. Twice. Then, he’s swallowing thickly, his throat bobbing with the movement.
His lips part as if he wishes to say something, but no words escape him.
Honestly, he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing right now, and scaring you away. This is the first time he’s seen you even acknowledge the dance studio in weeks, and he doesn’t want to ruin this moment for all it’s worth. Even if this is all he gets, he’ll take it, clinging onto this single memory like a lifeline after everything you’ve been through. A memory which he’ll cherish until the day he can truly show you his passions, and reclaim this room for the both of you.
The silence stretches on between you, and you notice the tips of his fingers beginning to shake. Not even a second later, he’s clinging onto the material of his sweats to ground himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he continues to think of something, anything, to say.
Taking a slow, steady breath in to calm your nerves, you beat him too it.
“Want some company?”
You swear you can physically see the tears of relief lining his eyes as his breath catches once more in his throat. 
He swallows thickly, a small smile pulling at his lips.
“I would love nothing more.”
Before you can even so much as take a step forward, he’s in front of you. His hands go to reach out to you before stopping himself, hesitant in each one of his movements. He wants nothing more than to reassure you that he’s here, but he also doesn’t want to push you too far, too fast. This is already more than he could have ever hoped for, and the fact that you’re actually entering the dance studio of your own free will, that you want to be here, means more to him than you’ll ever know.
Cautiously, your eyes dart around the room, shifting from one corner to the next. Everything about the space has been fixed; not a spec remains from the incident about a month and a half ago, but the memories do. Memories which threaten to pull you back into your own head, reliving the horror as if for the first time.
A gentle hand is placed onto the side of your arm, and you jump, the touch having pulled you from your thoughts.
Wooyoung’s expression falls. 
“I’ve got you, Angel.” He attempts a weak smile. “I promise I’ll never let anything hurt you in this space again.”
Finally, you lift your head to fully meet his gaze, offering him a comforting smile of your own. “I believe you.”
The hand he has placed onto the side of your arm squeezes you assuringly.
You take a moment to observe his features, noting the worried furrow of his brow as he watches you carefully. There’s even a small bead of sweat that rolls down the side of his temple, but he seems to not notice.
Your hand tightens subconsciously around the glass in your hand.
“Oh,” you blink, as if realizing something. “Here.”
Extending the glass out to him, you offer him your water.
Wordlessly, he takes the glass from your hand, a small tug of his lips upwards as he thanks you lowly. Not even a second later, he’s taking a small sip.
With both hands free, you gently clasp them in front of yourself, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you shift from foot to foot. Your gaze flits all around the room, shoulders tense as you stand there before him.
“Angel-“
Wooyoung’s worried tone gets cut off almost immediately by you.
“Can I-“ you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath in to steady your nerves. “I want to watch you dance.”
Wooyoung’s breath hitches for the nth time that day.
“Please, Wooyoung,” You blink your eyes open, meeting his wide eyed gaze. “Won’t you dance for me?”
Wooyoung swears his heart has stopped beating inside of his chest. This is everything that he’s ever wanted, and so much more. The fact that you’re asking him right now to do something that he’s always wanted to do for you is making his head spin, and he nearly drops the glass of water held in his one hand.
“Are you-“ he swallows the sudden dryness in his throat, “Are you sure?”
You smile faintly, nodding your head. “I want to watch My Sunshine light up this room with his passion like he’s always wanted to do for me.”
There is no denying the tremble in Wooyoung’s hands as he pulls you immediately into his embrace. His head buries itself into the side of your neck, careful not to spill any water on you in his quick movements.
You hear him sniffle lightly right by your ear.
“This room has always been intended for us,” you whisper, tightening your own hold around his back. The words you currently speak are just as much for you as they are for him right now. “Not her.”
“She will never be able to hurt you again.” His voice is low, but the promise is clear. “Not if I have anything to do about it.”
You smile faintly, nodding along softly to what he says. “Besides, I’m curious.”
“Oh?” He chuckles, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes.
“Thing for dancers, remember?” You crack a teasing grin, and the way his whole demeanour perks up says it all.
“How could I ever forget?” He wiggles his brows suggestively, an eager tug upwards to the corner of his lips. “I do have one condition before I start, though.”
This time, it’s your turn for your brow to quirk, “Oh?”
“Dance with me.” He breathes, his eyes shining as he stares deeply into your own.
Your lips part slightly, blinking in mild shock, “I’m not much of a dancer…”
Wooyoung parts from you only briefly to place the glass of water off to the side of the room where the stereo resides.
“Don’t worry,” he assures you, setting up a song in the queue before walking back over to you for the moment. He offers you his hand, “Just follow my lead.”
For a moment, you glance between his hand and his face. You can see the slight nervousness lingering in his gaze as he looks at you, the tips of his fingers shaking the faintest bit as he holds them in the air. His shoulders are a little tense, and you can see his eyes practically pleading with you to accept his offer. To accept him.
Taking a deep breath, you do.
Placing your hand in his, you allow him to guide your body into his own. His touch is nothing but gentle as he places his opposite hand onto your waist, your own coming to settle on his shoulder as a familiar melody begins to trickle through the speakers.
Your breath hitches as the opening notes to Elton John’s Your Song begin to fill the room.
“This is-“ your eyes shine as they meet his own, and you notice his crinkling in the corners.
“I know.” He smiles, holding onto you a little bit tighter as he begins to guide you around the room with smooth steps. “I wanted it for us, too.”
Your heart swells with warmth in your chest. The fact that he knows how important this song is to you, it being your parent’s wedding song and all, has a love unlike anything before flooding your veins. This song is for you as much as its meaning is for them. You sung it for them, for him, and now you’re dancing to it, too.
A special memory for what you’re sure is soon to be a very special place.
Each step is fluid, Wooyoung moving you from one spot to the next. All the while, he pulls you close. His touch is nothing short of gentle, grasping your hand in his as if you are the finest piece of glass he has ever had the pleasure of holding. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he notices the way your eyes shine as you meet his gaze. A fond look which he knows is reflected in his own as he stares back at you with nothing but tender love and affection.
Nothing could take this moment away from either of you. The music surrounds you like a warm, comforting blanket after a long, cold day, easing some of the tension from the both of your shoulders as you continue to twirl around the room.
This time, when it reaches the chorus, it’s Wooyoung that pulls you in closer to him. Softly, he rests his head against the side of your own, humming gently. His voice is low as he sings along to the words that float tenderly through the air.
You hold him tighter, tears of joy beginning to sting at the corners of your eyes as this moment settles over you. All that matters to you right now is the way Wooyoung guides you around the room, spinning you lightly in his arms as the two of you dance together for the very first time. A dance of which you know will be the first of many more to come.
“See, you’re doing amazing, Angel.” He hums, the smile he wears lighting up the room.
You nuzzle against him affectionately, allowing your eyelids to flutter closed as the music surrounds you. “It’s because you’re here to guide me.”
A content rumble reverberates in his chest. 
“I am deeply in love with you, My Angel.” He places a lingering kiss against the side of your head. “Forever and always.”
“Wooyoung,” Your eyes shine as you meet his own, nothing but love reflected in your gaze as you place a kiss onto his cheek. “I am in love with you, My Sunshine.”
You can feel his fingers pressing a little bit more firmly into your skin as you say this, his whole demeanour practically glowing as he holds onto you. You just know that if he could, he’d stay in this moment with you forever, and honestly, with how calm he’s making you feel, so would you.
All too soon, the song comes to an end.
“Thank you for dancing with me.” He keeps his voice low, nothing more than a mere whisper in your ear as he hugs you to his chest. One hand cradles the back of your head while the other rests on the small of your back. “This is everything I could have ever asked for.”
You smile, holding onto him just as tightly as he holds onto you. “I’ll dance with you like this whenever you’d like, Sunshine. As long as you’re here to guide me.”
Faintly, you register a tear landing on your shoulder. Tenderly, you stroke a hand down his back.
“I don’t want you to be scared anymore.” He admits, voice rough as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I let her hurt you.“
“Wooyoung-“ 
The worried call of his name from you is cut off by him.
“I let her hurt you in our own home.” His breath catches in his throat. “She-“ he swallows thickly. “She almost killed you in my own space.”
You meet his gaze, ensuring that he cannot look away as you cling onto his shoulders for dear life. 
“It is not your fault.” Your voice is firm as you speak these words, but you can tell that he’s not going to listen to you right now.
“It is.” Another tear slides freely down his cheek as he shakes his head. “It’s all my fault.”
“No, Wooyoung-“
“She knew how much this space meant to me, what it means to me, and she wanted to use it to send a message.” He avoids your gaze, as if the words he admits to are the greatest sin he could ever confess. “I was always the closest to her out of all of us, and she always wanted me to dance for her.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I could never say ‘no’ to her.”
Understanding washes over you. “You really loved her.”
His chin begins to tremble as he nods. A moment later, he bites his bottom lip.
“I did.” He inhales a shaky breath. “She never did anything without reason, so her choosing the dance studio… it was her way of saying that this was her space before it could ever be yours. She probably thought that it was still her space.”
Your hands come up to cup his face gently, guiding his gaze back to your own. There’s a deeper realization flitting through your mind now, and as you watch him blink open his eyes, you realize that just as with the others, he needs you being here with him as much as you need to be here in this room with him right now.
“But she’s not here now.” Your voice comes out much firmer than you ever thought it would. “Is she?”
He exhales a low breath, hands coming up to settle on top of your own. “No.”
“I am tired of letting her control me.” You swallow, fingers pressing the slightest bit more firmly into his skin. “Of letting her control us. She doesn’t get that satisfaction. Not now. Not ever. This is our home. It will always be our home, and you made this space for us. I think it’s time that we replace her tainted presence in this space with special memories of our own, and I’d say we’ve already started.” You meet his gaze, your own softening as you smile. “Wouldn’t you?”
He squeezes your hands, and you notice his throat bob as he begins to nod. Finally, it seems as if he’s listening to what you have to say.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Softly, he leans forward to rest his forehead against your own. “I won’t let her hurt us in this space again.”
Your eyes fall shut as you hum in agreement, and you can hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you exhale lightly.
“Make new memories with me, Sunshine.” You whisper, holding him close. “Dance for me.”
It takes only a moment before he starts nodding softly along with your words. You can feel his heart thundering against his chest as he presses right up against you, your own beating just as erratically as his is.
“I would love nothing more.” His voice is but a tender caress as he leans in to place his lips upon your skin.
For a moment, he lingers, revelling in this moment with you and what it means.
He won’t let her hurt you again. This is your space. A space meant for the two of you, and it always will be.
Blinking his eyes open, he finally pulls away from you. Wooyoung clears his throat lightly, wiping his lingering tears from his face as he straightens in his spot. A gentle smile pulls at his lips.
“I think I know just the dance I wish to show you first.” He says, walking you over to the mirrors.
Catching your reflection, you pause. Your breath hitches slightly, noticing the placement you stand in, seeing yourself resting right in front of the same panel which Miyeon threw you at all those weeks ago. You swear you can hear the way the mirror shatters still echoing through your ears, the cracks appearing in your vision the longer you stare at the panel before you.
Immediately, Wooyoung notices, concern furrowing his brow as you seemingly retreat into your own head.
“Hey, hey,” he gets you to look at him. “Remember, you’re here and she’s not. You’re safe now. Nothing will ever harm you again.”
You take a moment, glancing at your reflection once more. Then, slowly, you begin to nod. Every second that passes with you looking at both your image and his in the mirror solidifies that you’re okay. The panel is no longer broken, and neither are you. You are alive, and she can no longer hurt you. Besides, you are no longer the person you were when all of that happened, nor do you long to be.
You turn your back to the mirror, facing Wooyoung with a newfound softness to your gaze. He’s right, and you just know that nothing that she can do will ever harm you again.
He smiles gently in response, cupping the side of your face in his one palm briefly before moving over to set up the next song. In the blink of an eye, he stands in the centre of the room, rolling his shoulders out as he takes a deep breath to steady his nerves. This will be the first time he’s truly dancing for you, and he wants it to be special. Of course, Wooyoung is prepared to give his all for you, like always. He just hopes you enjoy what he’s about to show you, for there is nothing more intimate than he can offer you than his own soul while dancing.
He takes another deep breath in. 
Finally, he’s ready to perform.
Sparing one final glance over to you, he sees you sitting on the ground, your back against the mirrors. Your knees are bent before you as you look up at him with wide eyes, excitement gleaming within.
He swallows thickly, and the music begins.
Of all the songs you thought Wooyoung would choose to dance for you first, never could you have ever imagined it to be Hozier’s Take Me To Church. The first notes are sombre, and so is his expression as he begins to move, and you cannot help the way your breath hitches in your throat. Your entire body stills as the meaning of him performing a song like this washes over you, and you realize right then and there that his guilt over what happened to you in this very room runs deeper than you’ll ever know.
Your eyes never leave him for even one second, and when the first chorus hits, you can see how he begins to get lost in the music. Each movement is precise, never once faltering in his concentration despite the slight tremble you can see in the tips of his fingers as he extends his arms above his head. His wrists are locked together, as if they are physically bound by a manifestation of his regret over what happened to you before he pulls them back down, moving into the next part of the dance flawlessly.
Wooyoung can feel his heart pounding inside of his chest, the lyrics washing over his very soul as he performs this dance for you. He’s never been one to care about religious imagery before, being a demonic entity and all, but there is no greater sin he feels that he has committed than letting you down. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for what Miyeon did to you, and every day, that guilt eats him alive. With this dance, he can no longer hide his true feelings. Not that he really could, anyways. At least, not from you.
Dancing has been his salvation, but after what happened to you, in this room, no less, he finds that it may never mean the same thing to him again. Though, after what you’ve already said to him today, there’s a small glimmer of hope that he desperately clings to. A glimmer which tells him that everything might actually turn out okay; things are never truly as bad as they seem.
You’ll get through this. Together. One step at a time.
The moment the bridge hits, the first of his tears that he had been desperately attempting to hold back begin to fall. Wooyoung pours all of his emotions into every movement, resonating deeply with the lyrics being sung right now as he feels your eyes on him as he flows from one step into the next.
His heart squeezes painfully in his chest, and he begins to find it difficult to breathe. How you can even bare to look at him as he confesses to his greatest sins to you is beyond him. Right now, there is nothing artificial between you. No titles. No pretences. Only you and him. Two damaged souls who are finding refuge in the comfort of one another’s presence as he bares himself to the one he loves most.
That’s all he’s ever wanted; all that he could ever ask for.
He swallows thickly, the last line of the bridge echoing throughout the room.
Only then I am human. Only then I am clean.
Wooyoung falls to his knees, the movement synonymous with the first of your own tears that blaze a path down the sides of your cheeks. 
The final chorus of the song rings out around you, and you watch as Wooyoung performs for you with all that he is. The whole time, his eyes remain closed, almost as if he’s too ashamed to so much as meet your gaze now. Still, you don’t need to have his hearing abilities to know that his heart is absolutely racing inside of his chest.
The tips of his fingers have yet to stop trembling.
The silence that echoes throughout the studio is deafening as the final notes of the song dissipate throughout the air. You can hardly keep your hands from shaking as you see Wooyoung practically collapsed into his final pose. His arms are extended towards you, palms facing upwards in complete submission and surrender as he curls in on himself while resting on his knees. Even you can see the way his back shakes from the weight of his sobs, and before you register what you’re doing, you’re beside him, pulling him into your loving arms.
“Oh, Wooyoung-“
“I’m sorry.” His wails have your heart squeezing painfully in your chest as he collapses into your embrace. “I’m so sorry.”
Softly, you shush him, cooing comforting words into his ear as you tenderly rub a hand over his back. You can feel his tears hitting your skin as he buries his face into the side of your neck, latching onto your form as if you may disappear at any moment.
“It’s all my fault.” He chokes on a sob. “It’s all my fault.”
“Shhh, no it’s not.” Gently, you comb the fingers of your hand through his hair. “It has never been, and will never be, your fault.”
He sobs harder.
“She did this to us. Please, never think that I’ve ever blamed you for anything that she did.” You keep your voice low, steady as you hold him close. “I’m sorry I let her taint this room. I’m sorry I let her manipulate me into hurting the people that I love most.”
“Angel-“
“You’re a beautiful dancer, Wooyoung.” You pull away to stare deeply into his eyes, cupping his face tenderly in your hands. “I’m sorry it took me so long to be able to acknowledge that.”
His breath hitches slightly, and you take this time to wipe his tears away. Not even a moment later, you’re dabbing gently at his sweat with the sleeve of your shirt.
“My only regret is not asking you to perform for me sooner.” The corners of your lips twitch upwards faintly. “Maybe then she wouldn’t have been able to worm her way into my head like this. Maybe then you wouldn’t be hurting like this. Because of me.”
Lightly, Wooyoung shakes his head. “We could have never known she would do this to us.”
“No,” you agree. “We didn’t.”
You take a moment to spare another glance around the room, taking in all of the new details you missed on your way in. There seems to be a small couch pushed against the one wall that’s been added since the very first house tour you went on all those months ago. Small windows have been added, lining the top of the opposite wall across from you. The wooden floor is now a light brown, the hardwood interconnected seamlessly, and the new panelling against the sides is a cement grey. Though, the closer you look, the more you realize that the walls are just that - cement.
The feeling of Wooyoung brushing his thumb along the skin on the back of your hand draws your attention to him for the moment.
“You okay, Gorgeous?” His inquiry is soft, a hint of worry shining behind his eyes.
At least it appears that he’s calmed down.
“I’ll be okay, Woo.” You assure him. “The longer I spend here with you, the better it gets. You make me feel safe.”
He squeezes your hand, your words meaning more to him than you’ll ever know. “I’m glad.”
Carefully, he helps you back to your feet.
“Will you-“ you shift slightly from foot to foot, as if suddenly nervous to be asking him something. You avert your gaze, a heat blooming on your cheeks. “Will you keep dancing for me?”
“Of course, Angel.” The smile that pulls onto his lips is nothing short of radiant. “Never be shy to ask me to dance for you. It’s one of my absolute favourite things to do. Getting to share this passion of mine with you means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
“I’m glad.” This time, it’s you who hums, shifting to meet his gaze. “I love watching people dance. Even better that it’s you.”
A pleased rumble shakes his chest. “Is it too early to be able to call myself your favourite dancer, then?”
“Hmm,” you pretend to think about it. “I don’t know, Taemin’s got a few years on you.”
The growl that escapes his lips is nothing short of feral as you find yourself suddenly pressed up against the mirrors.
Your breath hitches in your throat.
“I’ll show you what you’ve been missing out on all these years, Angel.” His voice is but a low drawl right by your ear. The way you shiver in his arms has a smirk pulling on his lips. “I’ll admit, the last dance might have selfishly been for me, but this one?” He trails his nose along the column of your throat before lightly nipping at the skin with his teeth. “This next one’s all for you.”
Much too soon for your liking, he’s pulled away from you. It only takes him a moment to queue up the next song, returning to the centre of the room as you slide back down the mirror to sit back on the floor. Anticipation claws at your chest, excitement thrumming in your veins as you see him staring at you with hooded eyes.
A second later, you find out why.
The familiar opening notes to Taemin’s Press Your Number begin to play through the speakers, and you audibly gasp. You find that you cannot tear your eyes away from Wooyoung as he begins to dance, that smug smirk pulling at his lips the whole time. The way your fingers dig into the skin of your thighs to ground yourself says it all.
You know he knows how much you love this song, not to mention this dance. Considering that this was the song you used to distract him with all those months ago in order to win that bet, you know he doesn’t particularly like this song. Hell, you’re sure he’s not the biggest fan of Taemin considering your affection towards the artist. Still, the fact that he learned this dance for you, and is now eagerly performing it as you watch him, means the world to you. A fact of which you’re sure he’s well aware of.
Special memories indeed.
Subconsciously, your lips part, tongue coming out to wet them as you watch Wooyoung move his hips so sensually to the beat. It might just be your imagination, but watching him perform this for you is much more intense than watching Taemin dance has ever been. Perhaps it’s the fact that this is for you that makes it all the more intense. Maybe, perhaps, it’s just because it’s him.
You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat.
Every movement he makes is precise, watching your reactions carefully. The way he can see your breathing deepen, lips moving in time with the words as you stare, transfixed by him and him alone sets his heart racing in his chest. He knew learning this dance for you would be well worth it in the end. Just seeing you looking at him like this, with such an awed filled gazed full of nothing but admiration and love makes his head spin. Not to mention how dark your gaze has suddenly become. The fact that he can hear your heart racing in time with his own is simply icing on the cake.
Finally, he has captivated you in the same ways you have always captivated him.
His smirk widens.
Never did Wooyoung believe he could ever enjoy performing this dance so thoroughly, but the fact that it’s for you has a pleasant thrum echoing throughout his veins. He absolutely adores the feeling of your eyes on him, and he has to suppress the pleasant shiver that wants to caress his spine when he takes a deep breath in only to scent the faintest beginnings of that familiar, intoxicating aroma of your arousal.
He did this to you. Heis doing this to you, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.
Lowly, he sings along to the final line of the song, staring deeply into your eyes all the while. The way your breath hitches says it all, and despite his heaving chest, Wooyoung cannot keep the pleased growl from escaping him at the way you’re looking at him. There is no mistaking the darkness in your eyes, or the way that you’re almost breathing as heavily as he is right now. 
You cannot tear your gaze away, heart thundering as you slowly push yourself back to your feet as he stands back to his own. Slowly, you close the distance between the two of you, noticing how he eagerly meets you halfway.
Wooyoung watches you through hooded eyes, loving how your hands immediately find purchase on his shoulders as you come to stand before him.
“You learnt this for me?” Your inquiry is a bit breathless, gaze shining with nothing but affection as you search his own.
The corner of his lips quirks upwards as he nods. “I want you thinking of me dancing these songs for you, not him.”
You say nothing, that same look of awe painting your features as your hands slide up his neck to cup his face.
Finally, he allows that shiver to caress his spine.
“I, uh-“ he swallows, your scent suddenly overwhelming him as he attempts to control himself. He clears his throat. “I also just enjoy seeing you happy. Knowing it’s because of me is a dream come true.”
Your heart swells in your chest at his words. “You’ve made me so incredibly happy right now, Wooyoung. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
He cannot keep the grin from his lips, eyes crinkling as he giggles. “Does this mean you think I’m a better dancer than Taemin is?”
“Baby steps, Sunshine.” You chuckle.
He pouts, quite dramatically at that.
“Hey, you’ll always have something that he never will.” You hum, teasingly trailing your finger over his chest.
“Oh?” He quirks a brow, almost knowingly. “What’s that?”
You meet his gaze. “Me.”
The growl that escapes him as he pulls you flush against him is nothing short of pleased. His lips trace over the skin of your neck, nose nudging against you affectionately as he holds you close.
“My Angel.” His voice is a mere rumble, his fingers digging into the skin of your back as he holds you close.
“My Sunshine.” You tenderly brush his hair back that’s fallen over his forehead. “My Dancer.”
Another pleased rumble escapes his chest, his lips beginning to trail lightly over your racing pulse.
“There’s another dance I wish to perform for you today, Angel.” He begins lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear. “A dance meant only for you.”
“You can dance for me as long as you want, Sunshine.” You say earnestly, hugging him tightly.
“No, Angel, please don’t misunderstand,” he chuckles. “This is a bit different than all of the others. This would be quite an intimate dance, meant only for the two of us.”
“Intimate?” You repeat the word back to him, a curious quirk to your brow.
“Long have I desired to be able to dance for you, and now that I have, I find that I wish to fully demonstrate every aspect of my performance art for you.” He admits lowly. “Will you let me show you the extent of my desires for you, Angel? May I dance for you?”
The inhale you take is sharp, understanding lighting behind your eyes as you see his own flitting all over your face. It’s as if he’s taking the time to memorize every little detail that your expression has to offer him.
You swallow thickly, beginning to nod your head slowly at first, until you can no longer hide your eagerness. No one has ever offered to perform something so intimate for you, and you find your heartbeat accelerating the more you think about it. Despite knowing he’s wanted to dance for you since the beginning, hell, even before he properly met you, you never thought he’d want to give you a lap dance.
Your stomach twists in excitement.
Wooyoung smirks against your skin, backing you up slightly until you’ve reached the centre of the room. Then, he’s guiding you down onto a chair that’s appeared out of thin air. Luckily, there are no arm rests, but you still cannot prevent the hitch in your breath as your body makes contact with the wood.
“Let me show you exactly what you do to me, Angel.” He nips lightly at your ear, running his hands down your arms comfortingly. A second later, he pulls away. Slowly. “Let me show you how much you mean to me."
“Yes.” The word is breathless as it falls from your lips, your hands clinging to the sides of the chair you sit on for support. “Please.”
His smug expression says it all.
Sending you a cheeky wink, Wooyoung is quick to move over to the stereo once more. His back is to you as he sets up the song, and he can feel your heated gaze practically boring a hole between his shoulder blades the whole time. Turning his head, he meets your eyes, his lips tugging upwards again in the corners. He blows you a kiss.
You wish you could deny the way your heart flutters from that simple action, but the anticipation thrumming through your veins is making you highly susceptible to everything him. Not to mention that you absolutely adore the fact that he wants to perform something like this for you. To say you’re excited to see just what he does would be a severe understatement. The fact that it’s him performing it for you only makes such a moment that much more intense.
“Keep your eyes on me, Angel.” His voice is but a low growl on his lips as you see that familiar darkness swirling within his gaze. “Eyes on me, and hands behind your back.”
You blink, somewhat in a daze, “Uh-“
“Don’t worry, Angel,” he smiles assuringly at you, straightening slightly in his spot. “I won’t make you go the whole song without touching me. I don’t think I could, even if I tried.”
Heat floods your veins at the implications, your throat bobbing as you swallow the sudden dryness that forms. “Okay.”
Slowly, and with meticulous movements, you shift your hands behind your back, clasping them gently behind the chair. Your shoulders are a little stiff, but with each passing moment, you remind yourself that this time, it’s you who controls your actions. No one is forcing your hands down, nor are they bound like before. You can get up and move at any point in time, but you will stay seated here like this for now. For him.
She cannot hurt you anymore. Besides, he’s doing this for you.
He meets your gaze, hands trembling as he attempts to ground himself by the stereo. “Ready?”
“Yes.” Your eager nod which accompanies your one word says it all.
Wooyoung can feel his heart absolutely racing inside of his chest as he hits play on the song. His head is tilted downwards for the moment, no longer facing you as the opening notes of The Weeknd’s Earned It begin totrickle out through the speakers. 
Desperately, Wooyoung attempts to steady his breathing. His eyes darken with every inhale he takes. For too long has he dreamt of performing something like this for you, and now that the moment has finally come, he finds that he can hardly contain his own excitement. The fact that you can’t seem to tear your eyes off of him is the best feeling he’s ever experienced in his life, and he hasn’t even started yet.
The second the beat truly kicks in, he’s turning to you. A moment later, he’s sliding up to the chair you’re sitting on in one fluid movement as he comes to kneel before you. His hands settle gently onto your knees, as his eyes flutter closed, rolling his head once in a circle in time with the music. The instant his eyes flash open to reveal those pitch black pools of darkness you’ve become so used to, your breath hitches in your throat.
“You make it look like it’s magic.” Wooyoung’s voice is nothing short of seductive as he lowly sings along to the song while staring deeply into your eyes. Carefully, he walks his fingers up your thighs before pushing your legs apart. 
Tingles erupt on your skin wherever he touches, your heart racing inside of your chest. Your gaze remains locked on his own, noting every subtle twitch of his lips as he performs for you. A fact which you know he enjoys, for his eyes never stop swirling with that all too familiar darkness you’ve come to love so much from him.
Fluidly, he stands back to his feet, leaning into you as he cups your cheek tenderly in his hand for only a moment. 
“So I love when you call unexpected.” Slowly, he begins to walk around to the back of the chair, his fingers tracing over your shoulder until he rests behind you. “‘Cause I hate when the moment’s expected.”
Your eyes track him the whole time in the mirror, noticing how he never shifts his gaze from you for one second. Similarly, his touch never leaves your skin, both hands resting on either one of your shoulders as he leans over you. 
“So, I’ma care for you, you, you.” His breath caresses the shell of your ear as his fingers trail down your skin. Goosebumps soon erupt over your arms as he slowly, meticulously, drags his fingers back up your sides. “I’ma care for you, you, you, you.”
In the blink of an eye, Wooyoung has swung himself back to the front of the chair. His legs rest on either side of you, straddling you as he cups your face, oh, so tenderly in his hands.
“‘Cause girl, you’re perfect.” A slow grind against your lap in time with the lyrics.
“You’re always worth it.” He stares deeply into your eyes, transfixed by the very way you’re gazing at him with nothing but love and desire. A look he knows is reflected on his own features right now.
“And you deserve it,” He leans into your ear, nipping at your skin as he continues to move over you in time with the music, “The way you work it.”
He pulls back only to rest his forehead on your own, holding you tenderly in the palm of his hands.
“‘Cause girl, you earned it.” The hitch in your breath makes him smirk, feeling his whole body heating as he continues to grind himself into you in time with the beat of the song. “Girl, you earned it.”
The moment the second verse starts, he’s pulled himself away from you. You can feel the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin, swallowing thickly as you watch him begin to undo the buttons on his shirt. He never misses a beat, moving around you like a predator stalking his prey.
A pleasant shiver caresses your spine.
Appearing in front of you once more, you see his shirt fully open, the planes of his chest on full display. The way your breath hitches as he flicks the material off of his shoulders does not go unnoticed by him.
He smirks, loving how he can see you slowly being shaking in need as he allows the material to fall delicately to the ground. The fact that you waste no time trailing your gaze shamelessly over his bare torso has a pleased growl falling from his lips, his already aching cock twitching beneath his sweats.
Briefly, your eyes dart to that necklace you gave him all those long weeks ago.
This time when he sits in your lap, his hands are finding purchase on your shoulders. There’s no mistaking the tent in his pants, feeling his hard cock pressing up against you as he grinds himself meticulously against you in time with the second chorus. Only this time, his voice is more of a rumble as the words fall from his lips, a sharp hiss escaping him as he presses a little firmer down on your thighs as he moves over you.
Desperately, his fingers dig into your skin, holding you close as he commits every expression you give him to memory. The way your lips part, chest heaving alongside his own says it all.
As soon as the bridge hits, he’s swinging his leg over you and standing back to his feet. He shifts behind you, bending his knees slightly as he rolls his hips to the side. A blink, and he’s on the ground before you, knees shifting over the hardwood as he rolls his hips, his body soon following each movement that he makes.
Slowly, Wooyoung brings a hand up to his neck, wrapping his fingers lightly around his throat while staring at you through hooded eyes. Meticulously, he drags that hand down his torso, fingers tracing over that charm that hangs over his skin before sliding lower over his body.
Your eyes follow his every movement, watching as he cups himself over his sweats. A low moan escapes his lips as his eyes flutter shut.
“All for you, Angel.” His breath stutters. “I’m all yours.”
“Wooyoung,” His name is nothing more than a breathless moan on your lips as the final chorus begins to ring out around you.
Carefully, he shifts his hands, hooking his fingers beneath the waistline of his sweats. In one fluid movement, he’s stood back to his feet, all the while ridding himself of those grey sweatpants. A second later, he steps out of them only to straddle your lap. His black briefs leave nothing to the imagination as he presses himself firmly against your thighs, grinding down so sensually in time with the music that continues to surround you both.
“Angel,” he’s panting at this point, eyes falling shut. “Angel, please-“
You lick your lips.
“Please, touch me.”
Your hands are on him without another thought.
The whole time your fingers trace over his skin, wrapping around his torso and pulling him closer into you, you can feel him shaking. His thighs begin to tremble, and he can barely control his breathing as the final lines of the song wash over the both of you.
Bringing your hands up, you move one to tangle in his bright red locks. The other cups his face, bringing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. A kiss which he eagerly reciprocates as he continues to move over you.
You deserve it.
Your hands slide down his shoulders and light a fire upon his skin as he feels your nails trail over the front of his torso.
Girl, you deserve it.
Wrapping your arms around his back, you trail your hands downwards in order to squeeze his ass. The stuttering moan that he lets out against your mouth as you pull him in closer causes you to clench around nothing, swallowing his whimpers as his grinding meticulously slows over you. The desperate way he clings onto you says it all.
This is everything that he’s ever wanted, and so much more. The amount of pure ecstasy flowing through his veins right now, and all because you allowed him the pleasure of performing such an intimacy for you, begins to overwhelm him. With every breath he takes, he can feel his thighs shaking, his abdomen tightening as he attempts to control himself for the time being.
“Angel-“ 
The call of your name is but a mere shaky, breathless warning. One which you understand completely as the final notes of the song fade out around you.
“Go ahead, Wooyoung,” you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, giving his ass another appreciative squeeze. “Come for me. Come performing for Your Queen.”
The words have barely finished escaping your mouth when his eyes are fluttering shut. His brow furrows, and he stills above you, mouth parting as a low, desperate moan tumbles from his lips.
Leaning forwards, he rests his forehead against your own. His breathing comes in jagged pants, whole body tingling as the aftermath of his orgasm washes over him.
Nothing could take this moment away from him. Absolutely nothing. The fact that you wanted him to lose himself in you - for you - makes his head spin, heart swelling in his chest as he revels in your gentle touches.
Softly, you press your lips to his once more.
Whimpers continue to escape him as he feels you gently massaging his ass. The languid way your tongue moves against his own has nothing but pleasure flooding his veins once more, his arms settling around your shoulders as he cradles your head in his one hand.
Almost reluctantly, he parts from you, only to trail his lips down the side of your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, nipping at the sensitive flesh and eliciting the sweetest of moans from you. He smiles.
“I love you, My Angel.” Another kiss is placed directly over your pulse. “So much.”
“Wooyoung,” you smile, shifting your arms so that you can wrap him in your embrace. You bury your face into the side of his neck, placing a tender kiss of your own against his skin. “I love you.”
The pleased hum that builds in his chest reverberates against your own, and you feel him pull you impossibly closer.
“May I-“ he takes a deep, stuttering breath, and a moan escapes him at the way he can scent your arousal permeating the air. “May I please you, too?”
“You already have.” You hum, beginning to thread your fingers through his hair.
“As happy as that makes me to hear you say that, My Queen,” he pulls the slightest bit away to stare deeply into your eyes. “I want to make good on my promises, and show you just how well Your King can please His Goddess.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards.
“Please,” he nuzzles against you affectionately. “Won’t you let me?”
A second where you can feel your heart skip a beat inside of your chest.
“Yes.” You begin to nod, quite eagerly at that. “Only if I get to please you, too.”
Wooyoung smirks, “You already have.”
Your words of protest die in your throat as you feel him move off of you. With wide eyes, you stare up at him, feeling your heart warm at the tender way he looks down at you still seated in the chair.
Gingerly, he cups your face in his hands. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”
“I just want you.” Your earnest reply sets his heart fluttering inside of his chest.
“Angel,” he coos, eyes shining with the weight of his emotions. He swallows, his throat bobbing with the movement. “That’s not entirely what I meant, but your answer still means the world to me.”
You blink up at him, tilting your head in mild curiosity. “Then, what did you mean, Sunshine?”
“I cannot please you to the best of my abilities if you do not tell me how.” The way he repeats those same words to you that he said all those months ago has your breath hitching in your throat.
Not even a moment later, a devious smirk is pulling at your features.
“Oh?” You tilt your head slightly in his direction, standing back to your feet slowly. “And here I was thinking the self-proclaimed ‘Master of Seduction’ had me all figured out.”
His brow quirks, a low chuckle falling from his lips. “I’ve made some deductions, yes.”
“Then show me everything you’ve learned, Angel.” The way he shivers as you drawl out that particular name does not go unnoticed by you. Your grin widens, and you step closer. Keeping your voice low you whisper into his ear, “After all, I’ve made some deductions of my own.”
Gently, you nip at his skin, hands finding purchase on his shoulders as his own find purchase on your waist. The low groan that tumbles from his lips says it all.
His eyes flash, “With pleasure, My Queen.”
Wooyoung moves in to kiss you once more, but your finger on his lips freezes him in his spot.
His brow furrows, worry immediately shining within his eyes. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is perfect.” You smile assuringly at him. “I just have one request before we begin.”
“Anything.” He breathes, nothing but sincerity reflected in his gaze.
“I wish to make love to you here.” Your grip tightens on his shoulders. “In this room.”
Wooyoung blinks. Once. Twice. Three times before he manages to get his thoughts under control. His racing heart feels as if it will beat right out of his chest at any moment, a fire lighting in his veins as his breathing deepens. The full meaning of what you’re asking him settles over his very soul, and he cannot contain the way his eyes flash black, a pleased growl rumbling in his chest as he pulls you flush against him.
His lips part, but only pants escape him. His head continues to spin, grip tightening over your hips as he feels that familiar tightening of his abdomen. A moment later, his cock begins to throb, his whole body heating beneath your intense stare.
“Are you-“ he manages to choke out, “Are you sure?”
“More than anything, Sunshine.” Your loving expression says it all.
In the blink of an eye, Wooyoung has you wrapped in his arms. You feel yourself falling forwards, bouncing slightly as you land on top of him on what appears to be a mattress that he’s made appear on the floor. White linen sheets greet your gaze, and suddenly the whole room is bathed in candle light.
The soft flickering of flames illuminate the entire space, casting a warm glow over his tan skin. His eyes hold nothing but tender love and fondness as he gazes up at you, your legs resting on either side of his waist. His hands still grip your hips so gently, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath he takes.
Softly, his fingers caress your sides, trailing beneath your shirt and causing the material to lift slightly. Wooyoung can feel the tips of his fingers tingling everywhere your skin makes contact with his own, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.
“Angel,” There is nothing but affection dripping from his tone as he stares up at you in awe. “You are my everything.”
You smile down at him, reaching out to cup his face tenderly in the palm of your hand. Gently, your thumb strokes over his cheek, and you lean in to kiss him.
“I love you, Wooyoung,” you mumble against his lips, feeling the way he moans against yours in response. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
A breathless call of your name escapes him, his voice nothing more than a tender caress against your ears. His eyes flutter shut, absolutely revelling in this moment, right here, right now, with you.
He trails his hands higher.
Parting from him only briefly, you sit back to your full height. In one fluid motion, you remove your shirt, tossing it to the side as you see him staring up at you in awe. You can see him watching your every movement as you waste no time unclasping your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders and tossing it in the same direction as your shirt.
“You’re so beautiful,” his eyes flit everywhere over your exposed torso, a pleased rumble escaping him. “My Angel.”
Teasingly, you run your hands down his chest, nails scratching gently at his skin. You hum. “My handsome King.”
This time, a growl escapes him, his grip tightening as he pulls you in closer. The way you begin to grind yourself over his hard cock has his eyes flashing black. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.
“I’m all yours, My Queen.” His hips buck up to meet your own, lips tugging upwards in a grin as you gasp. “And you’re mine.”
Your eyes fall closed in bliss. “I’m yours, Sunshine.”
A moan tumbles shamelessly from him, hands trailing up your sides to begin palming at your breasts. The way you keen into his touch, especially when he begins circling your hardening nipples with his thumbs has a warmth flooding his chest.
“Angel,” The way he calls your attention, so softly and full of adoration has you meeting his gaze in an instant. “Please, let me taste you again.”
You blink down at him in mild shock, your lips parting as he continues to squeeze your breasts so tenderly.
“I’ve been dreaming about that gorgeous pussy of yours since the very first time you allowed me the honour of pleasing you.” His confession is somewhat breathless, eyes locking onto the apex of your thighs. “I need to feel you dripping down my chin, drowning me in everything you.”
He does not fail to hear the hitch in your breath, nor the way your thighs tighten ever so slightly around his waist.
“I promise I won’t hold back this time.” Wooyoung briefly darts his gaze upwards to meet your own.
Your hands come up to grasp his wrists, steadying yourself against him as you watch him lick his lips. There’s a certain type desperation written all over his face, jagged pants escaping him the longer that he stares, transfixed, at your clothed core.
“What do you mean by that?” Your inquiry is quite airy, swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat as you look down upon him. 
The way his hair fans out around his head only serves to accentuate his features, his dark eyes locking with yours.
“You’ll see.”
Wooyoung can physically feel the way your heart stutters beneath your chest at his response. He knows that you’re curious, and eager, to discover what he has in store for you. It’s written all over your body language, for a shiver is soon to caress your spine as you move off of him briefly.
With hooded eyes, he watches as you stand back to your feet. Wooyoung pushes a few stray strands of his hair back from his forehead, making sure his view is completely unobstructed as he watches you slowly push your jeans down your legs.
The second the material touches the ground, a needy groan is escaping him. The full scent of your arousal begins to permeate the air, making his mouth water. All he knows in this moment is you, that all too familiar burning hunger rising beneath the surface of his skin as he is almost completely consumed by his desires. All he wants to do is please you, to make you drown in ecstasy until you cannot tell where he ends and you begin.
Biting his lip, he watches you slide your panties off before teasingly dropping them directly on top of his face.
The snarl that tears from his throat as he breathes in your unfiltered arousal is unlike anything you’ve ever heard. Almost immediately, his hand is clutching desperately at the material of your panties, nose buried in the material as pleased rumbles escapes his chest. His eyes flutter closed.
“I was going to say ‘save them for later’, but it looks to me as if you’re rather enjoying yourself right now.” You giggle, and Wooyoung swears it’s one of the most melodic sounds he’s ever heard in his entire life.
Pitch black eyes flash open to meet your own.
“I have been longing for another pair ever since I accidentally tore apart the last one.” He admits lowly, taking another deep breath in.
Your eyebrows raise in mild amusement. “You tore them apart?”
Slowly, albeit reluctantly, he lowers his hand that clutches onto your panties to his side. “To be fair, it was an accident.”
The corner of your lips quirks upwards as you sink back onto your knees. The mattress dips as you crawl up his body, stopping just beside his head. You cup his cheek.
“One of these days, I want to see you act out every little desire you’ve ever fantasized about with those panties of mine.” Your sultry tone leaves nothing to the imagination.
A growl escapes him, eyes flashing in agreement as his free hand comes up to grasp your thigh. He meets your gaze.
“You let me know when, Angel, and I’ll show you everything I’ve ever done to myself when fantasizing about you.” He tightens his hold on your thigh, nails biting almost desperately into your skin. “But right now, I want you to sit on my face.”
“You better.” You grin, stroking your thumb over his cheek delicately. “Then, maybe I’ll show you what I’ve fantasized doing with you.”
The snarl he lets out gets partially smothered by you shifting above him. Your thighs encase his head, slowly lowering your glistening core onto his eager and awaiting mouth as he stares up at you with those all too familiar black eyes. He licks his lips.
At the first swipe of his tongue through your folds, you cannot tell who moans louder. Desperately, his fingers dig into the skin of your ass, pulling you flush against him as his eyes close in bliss.
“Fuck, Angel-“ He groans against you. “How are you even sweeter than I remember?”
Without wasting another second, his lips are wrapped around your clit, suckling on that little bud eagerly before his tongue is flicking over it in tandem. Guttural groans escape his chest, bordering on low growls as he soon laves his entire mouth over your dripping entrance. Of course, he takes the time to trace over your lips with the tip of his tongue soon after.
The whole time, he never breaks eye contact with you, holding you close as his nails bite into your skin. Every movement he makes with his tongue is precise, circling over that little bundle of nerves and watching your reactions carefully. Wooyoung is more than eager to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible this evening, slowly building you up in the best of ways until he has you falling apart for him over, and over, and over again.
At one particularly harsh flick of his tongue, your hand immediately seeks purchase in his hair. Your fingers tug at his roots, nails scratching against his scalp as he moans shamelessly into your pussy. The resulting vibrations send a pleasant shiver up your spine, feeling his tongue beginning to dip into your entrance as your juices drip down his chin.
A soft caress against your mind has you opening your void, his white string practically humming in movement.
Best pussy I’ve ever had. A pointed suck is given to your clit, causing you to whine out his name so beautifully. Best pussy I’ll ever have.
Your eyes flutter closed in bliss, stomach twisting from his words.
I’ll never get tired of this. His admission is echoed by a low growl as his tongue circles your entrance once more. Fuck, what a beautiful sight you are, My Queen. Even better knowing that I get to please you like this. I could devour you allday.
A choked moan falls passed your lips as you keen above him.
So fucking wet for me. He hums in approval, eyes briefly closing as he traps your clit between his lips, shaking his head from side to side. All for me.
“All because of you.” Your lips part, breathless pants escaping you as you attempt to ground yourself. “No idea what you do to me."
Wooyoung snarls, tongue eagerly flicking at your clit in response.
“Fuck- yes, My King,” you whine, a blissful smile tugging at your features. “Just like that.”
You feel him smirk against your cunt as he presses himself impossibly closer into you.
Tell me, My Queen, he manages to get you to meet his gaze, and the way you can barely keep your eyes open from the pleasure of it all has his heart swelling with pride. Have you thought about me since that day? Have you thought about the way my lips felt on you? About how good my tongue feels flicking this precious little clit of yours?
“Yes.” The admission is but a whine on your lips, a moan tumbling from you shortly afterwards. “Fuck- I always think about you, Woo.”
This time, it’s his turn to moan.
“You always make me feel so good, Angel.” You drawl out, feeling the way he shudders beneath you in response. “How can I not think of the way your skilled tongue licks this pussy so eagerly?”
Sparing a glance down, you notice his eyes roll into the back of his head as he leans into you even further. Low growls escape him with every breath, his suddenly sharp nails pricking desperately into the skin of your ass as he pulls you even closer.
“You’ve just been waiting to serve Your Queen like this, haven’t you?” You continue, an almost mocking concern to your tone.
A guttural groan escapes him, his answer of confirmation being muffled by your dripping cunt.
“My Sunshine has been so eager to bury his face in His Angel’s cunt again, he tore her precious panties apart out of sheer desperation.” You hum, almost knowingly.
The resounding whine he lets out is all you need to know that what you speak is true. Wooyoung has always been so desperate for you, that he’s never been able to control himself around you. All he’s ever wanted is to please you, to make you fall apart for him as many times as you’ll allow him to, and he’ll never expect anything in return. Seeing you lose yourself to such ecstasy, and knowing that he’s the cause of such delightful bliss you’re succumbing to turns him on like nothing else. He wants to be the reason His Goddess reaches the highest pleasures that she’s ever received. Only he wants to be the cause of your euphoria, and he’ll do everything in his power to make it so.
You’re addictive, Angel. He moans shamelessly into your cunt. I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with only a single taste.
Your stomach twists in pleasure, feeling yourself clench around nothing at the sheer honesty behind his words. The desperation alone that you can feel in each of his movements is enough to make your head spin, and you find yourself getting lost in the feeling of it all.
There’s a slight hitch in your breath as you feel him dipping his tongue through your folds, prodding slightly at your entrance as he eagerly laps up every last drop you have to offer him.
Fuck- My Queen- His eyes fall shut, revelling in the feeling of your fingers tugging at his hair. The way you begin to grind your hips against him, meeting his every movement of his tongue over you has his one hand creeping down his own body to palm himself over his briefs. Give me more. I want more.
“Wooyoung-” The gasp of his name is synonymous with the feeling of his tongue slipping through your folds. You can feel his wet muscle probing at your entrance, dipping in and out while sliding deeper inside of you each time. It’s almost as if the further he presses into you, the longer and thicker his tongue gets.
I told you, Angel, his chuckle reverberates beautifully against your folds as he slips his tongue inside of you. The way your eyes roll into the back of your head as the tip begins massaging the inner walls of your cunt has his cock twitching in his hold. This time, I’m not holding back.
“Oh, fuck-“ your thighs begin to shake, and you subconsciously squeeze them tighter around his head. 
Not that he really minds… 
“Don’t stop! Wooyoung-“ your breath hitches, “fuck, don’t stop!”
You can feel the upturn of his lips against you, his nose affectionately nuzzling against that little bundle of nerves. The whole while, his tongue explores the interior of your cunt. There’s a certain eagerness to his movements, your essence flowing from you shamelessly as he continues to hum against you. Each exhale is but a pleased growl, his chest vibrating with every sound he makes as his tongue rubs up against your walls.
At the way your breath hitches, a high-pitched whine escaping you as he flicks over a specific area inside of you, he snarls. There it is.
All of his attention is now focussed on pressing his tongue against that special spot inside of you. With each movement, he experiments with different patterns, changing the pressure until he finds the ones that have you keening the most. All the while, his nose bumps over your clit, the little jolts of sudden ecstasy causing your whole body to shake as you attempt to control yourself.
Long since have Wooyoung’s eyes bled black, his hand moving over his cock in time with your movements on his tongue. The way you are more than content to grind down against him, seeking out the most intense pleasure that he has to offer you has his stomach twisting, and his cock throbbing in his hold.
That’s it, Angel. He encourages. Lose yourself on my tongue. Succumb to the ecstasy of my touch, and let yourself go.
You can feel yourself clenching around his tongue at his words, barely able to hold yourself upright as nothing but pure bliss courses through your veins. You can tell that you’re close, breathing coming in jagged pants as you tilt your head back, a loud moan of his name falling from your lips.
Just as you shift your head to peer down at him once more, something catches your attention. An image that has your cunt fluttering around him, your stomach clenching pleasantly as your grip tightens in his hair.
Glancing up, Wooyoung takes notice of where your gaze lies. His chest swells in pride, unable to prevent the snarl that tears from his throat as he redoubles his efforts over your weeping cunt.
Gorgeous, aren’t you, My Queen? His voice resounding in your head makes you whimper above him. Keep watching yourself. See how beautiful you are as you fall apart on my tongue. How beautiful you’ve always been.
“Wooyoung, I-“ your voice catches in your throat, that all too familiar coil close to snapping.
Come for me, My Queen. A low growl greets your ears. Fucking flood me in you.
A loud cry of his name flies passed your lips as you toss your head back in ecstasy. Your entire body trembles as the wave of your orgasm crashes into you, eyes squeezing shut as you cling onto him for dear life. Spots dance behind your vision and your head spins, feeling as if your whole being is floating as your chest heaves with every breath you take.
Languidly, you feel his tongue moving inside of you. The tip gently caresses your walls, and you can just tell from the way he’s snarling beneath you that you’re positively dripping onto his chin right now.
His nose brushes against your clit, and your whole body jolts. An involuntary whine escapes you, lips parted as you practically collapse forwards. Luckily, you manage to catch yourself just in time with your arms, even if they feel like they might give out at any moment.
Slowly, Wooyoung retracts his tongue, lapping gently at your folds as his one hand moves to help support you. The way your arms give out beneath you has him smiling wide, holding you steady as he pulls you down to rest beside him on the mattress.
He licks his lips, chin shining with your essence as he giggles at your somewhat dazed expression.
“You did so well for me, Angel.” He places a chaste kiss to your lips, stroking a hand over your back tenderly. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”
“Shouldn’t-“ you clear your throat, voice hoarse from overuse, “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”
The smile that tugs at his features lights up the entire room, even more so than the candles.
“I’m simply glad that I could serve you.” He leans in to rest his forehead against your own, nuzzling you affectionately as he pulls you closer.
Softly, your hand runs down his chest, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. The way you caress him now just as you did that one morning last week has his eyes fluttering closed in bliss.
“Let me serve you.” Your words are but a mere drawl on your lips as you lower your hand even further.
Only, the prominent wet patch you feel against the palm of your hand says it all.
“Don’t even worry, Angel.” Wooyoung hums, wrapping his arm loosely around your waist. “I already told you that bringing you pleasure pleases me more than you’ll ever know. I’m just sorry I’ve already came twice, and you’ve only come once.”
“Believe me,” you eyes widen slightly, as if to truly emphasize your words. “That one time has already been more than enough. You seriously all have incredible stamina. I’m just happy to know I could have such an effect on you. Knowing I can essentially make you come without so much as actually touching you is incredibly confidence boosting. Not to mention extremely hot.”
“You have no idea.” Wooyoung grins, his chest rumbling with happiness. “Besides, seeing you fall apart like that for me- because of me, is reward enough.”
The corners of your lips pull upwards softly, your heart warming as you hum in content. “Since when could you do that with your tongue?”
“Since forever.” He chuckles fondly. “Shifter, remember?”
“Fuck, I love you.” Your eyes shine with nothing but adoration as you meet his gaze.
A pleased rumble shakes his chest. “And I love you, My Queen.”
Gently, your thumb comes up to wipe some of your essence from his chin.
“Ah,” he practically tuts at you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “I got it.”
Not even a moment later, his tongue creeps out of his mouth, languidly running over his chin as the muscle slithers against his skin.
Your breath hitches in your throat, watching every movement he makes with dark eyes. The fact that his tongue was just inside of you only makes this moment that much more intense, your stomach clenching pleasantly in response.
“Should I start calling you Venom?” You smirk, a sudden playful gleam flashing within your gaze.
His teeth suddenly look much too sharp as his lips pull back in a wide grin.
“I suppose it would be very fitting,” you hum, brushing a hand over the side of his face and pushing some of his hair behind his ear.
“Well, poisons are my specialty.” He leans forward to kiss the tip of your nose.
“Definitely also has nothing to do with the fact that I’m also a monster fucker.” You add casually.
Wooyoung’s eyes go wide as if you’ve just revealed the greatest piece of information to him that he’s ever heard.
“I knew it!” The grin he wears is nothing short of triumphant, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he begins giggling like a maniac.
“I don’t necessarily hide it, Sunshine.” You chuckle, lifting a finger to boop his nose affectionately.
“Now that you mention it, you do talk about fucking dragons and vampires quite often.” He hums in acknowledgement.
“You’re telling me that vampires are real?” Your eyes go wide in excitement, your whole body practically beginning to vibrate in his hold.
His lips purse dramatically as a frown pulls at his features.
“Kidding!” You nuzzle your head against his own, that playful gleam back in your eyes. “It’s still so easy to rile you up.”
“I can’t help it, Beautiful.” He sighs, almost wistfully. “When you have a Goddess laying before you whom you love more than anything that jokes about this kind of stuff… well, I’m sure you’d feel the same.”
“Wooyoung, you know that I’m serious when I say that I’m in love with you, and that you’re mine and I’m yours, right?” You look at him expectantly.
A moment of silence passes between you where he simply just stares at you. His eyes shine with nothing but tender love and awe, his heart absolutely thundering within his chest from your words.
A blink, and he’s shifted your positions so that he hovers over you while you rest beneath him. He meets your gaze, strands of his red hair falling over his forehead and framing his face beautifully.
“Say it again.” His plea is desperate, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly.
“Which?” You quirk a brow teasingly. “That I’m in love with you, or that you’re mine and I’m yours?”
“Yes.” A low groan escapes him as his head falls forward, forehead pressing against your own as his eyes slip closed. “Both.”
“I am in love with you, Wooyoung.” There is no hesitation in your voice as you reply, watching as he blinks his eyes open only to stare deeply into your own in the next second. “You are mine, and I am yours.”
His lips are on your own as soon as the final syllable escapes you, grinding his hips lightly into your own.
A soft gasp falls from you, and Wooyoung takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Gently, he kisses you, pouring all that he is into the movement of his lips against your own. Right now, he’s not concerned about anything other than showing you how deep his love is for you in any and every way that he can. 
Right now, it’s exactly as you say: you are his, and he is yours. Nothing will ever change that fact, and as you lay beneath him, in the comfort of his dance studio, you both know this to be unquestionably true.
You love each other, and nothing, no one, will ever change that. You love each other, and you always will.
Tracing his hands up your sides, Wooyoung feels a shiver caress your spine. Long since have your panties been tossed aside, allowing for his fingers to freely roam the expanse of your bare skin without impeding his touch. He simply revels in you: your every sound, your every reaction, loving how your scent intoxicates him the longer that the two of you spend together. The fact that you’re starting to smell like him, and him like you is simply the cherry on top.
Your hands on his back pull him in closer as he continues to slowly grind himself into you. With each movement, you can feel his cock becoming harder once more, your heart racing at the very fact that it is you that is doing this to him.
“Woo,” the gentle call of his name from you against his lips has his cock twitching against your core.
He pulls away to stare into your eyes, but not before nipping lightly at your jawline. “Yes, My Queen?”
“Don’t you want me to touch you?” The question you pose is so innocent falling from your lips, blinking up at him with those loving eyes of yours.
“You are touching me, Beautiful.” He chuckles, placing a brief kiss against the skin of your lips.
“That’s not what I meant.” A slight frown tugs at your brow.
“Angel, I’ve already told you,” he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, placing another kiss over your racing pulse. “There is no greater pleasure for me than pleasing you. I want to take my time, drowning you in an ecstasy that only I can provide for you. Right now, I want to focus solely on your pleasure. That is my greatest desire: pleasing you in every and any way I know how, and sharing in this intimacy with you as I make you come over, and over, and over again for me and me alone. You know that I will never expect anything in return.”
Your gaze softens, “Wooyoung-“
“Do you know how many times I’ve come untouched just to the mere thought of you?” His voice is but a low rumble right by your ear. “Simply the thought of being able to bring you uninterrupted pleasure, My Queen, pleases me more than you’ll ever know. I want you to use me in any and every way that you know how until you are satisfied. I want to serve you, and watch as you fall apart for me over, and over, and over again using my fingers, my tongue, my cock.”
A desperate shudder caresses your spine, your breath hitching in your throat.
He smirks.
“My body was made to please you, Angel.” Lightly, he nips at the skin of your neck, just below your ear. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Your throat bobs as you swallow, lips parting as you stare up at him with nothing but a deep love and admiration in your eyes. Your entire being warms, heart swelling in your chest at how earnestly he speaks his words to you. There is no insincerity that you can hear within his voice, no false pretences or double meanings behind his words. All you do know, is that what he speaks is true, and you’ve already begun to experience it first hand.
A tender smile pulls at your features, your one hand reaching up to brush his hair back from his face yet again this evening. Softly, you shift to cup his face so tenderly in your palm, loving how he instantly leans into your touch.
“You are in control here, Angel.” He turns his head to nuzzle deeper against your hand. “You are always in control.”
“Alright.” You breathe out, eyes fluttering closed as you bask in this moment with him. “Then, let me make the sweetest love to My King.”
The smile that stretches across his face says it all. “I would love nothing more.”
Shifting over the mattress, Wooyoung helps you flip your positions. Quickly, he shimmies out of his underwear, allowing you to settle over top of him. His hands instantly find purchase on your waist, such a tender fondness shining within his eyes as he gazes upon you. It’s as if he’s truly looking upon a Goddess as he takes in your every feature above him, nothing but the deepest, sincerest form of love and trust swirling within his gaze. There you appear to him in all of your glory, and like hell will he ever forget this moment. No, this day will live in his memories forevermore. Until the very end of time.
Settling your core above his cock, you teasingly grind down onto him. The way he can feel your wetness dripping onto his skin makes him moan, eyes nearly falling shut in bliss. Only, he swears to keep his gaze fixated on you at all times. Never does he want to miss a single moment of intimacy with you, selfishly wanting your every reaction for his eyes only.
“Are you okay, Sunshine?” Your gentle inquiry is but a soft caress against his ears.
“Never better.” He admits breathlessly, hands squeezing your sides lovingly. “Are you okay?”
The fact that he repeats your own question back to you warms your entire being, soul coming alight as you nod your head. Even though your confirmation is but a whisper on your lips, he still hears you loud and clear.
Not even a moment later, you’re reaching down between your two bodies and taking his cock into your one hand. Pumping him a few times, you teasingly run your thumb over his tip, spreading the precome that leaks out over his head.
A low moan from Wooyoung is all your receive in response, feeling him twitch in your hand.
Without breaking eye contact, you line him up with your entrance. Slowly, you drag his tip through your folds, gathering the wetness there and watching as his gaze darts down to where your bodies are soon to be intertwined.
You begin to sink down onto his cock.
A pleasant hum escapes you as you feel him beginning to stretch you out. Of course, you take your time, adjusting to him as you lower your hips to meet his own.
The whole while, Wooyoung watches as his cock disappears into your wet warmth, stomach clenching as he feels your walls beginning to squeeze him so delicately. Absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of your cunt sucking him in, his head spinning as that familiar darkness swirls within his gaze.
Low groans escape him with every breath, bordering on growls as you finally sink down fully on his cock. He adores the feeling of your hips pressing against his, your hands coming to settle on his chest as you steady yourself, nails digging into his skin.
Your breathing comes in jagged pants, core still so sensitive from the single orgasm he’s already given you this evening. Even you can feel yourself dripping onto his skin, his cock twitching inside of you and making you moan.
“So good, Angel.” He pants, fingers digging into your skin as he attempts to ground himself. “Feels so, so good.”
“Yeah?” Your response is breathless, chest rising and falling dramatically as you attempt to control yourself.
Involuntarily, you clench around him and moans are escaping the both of you.
“Fuck- long since have I dreamt of this day.” He admits, tossing his head back in bliss. “Better than anything I could have imagined.”
Your heart positively flutters at his words, especially given the implications behind them.
You lips part with unspoken words, but luckily for you, he seems to already know just what you want to say.
“Yes, I’ve always thought about what our first time together would be like.” He hums, thumbs stroking tenderly against your sides. “I don’t think my fantasies could ever top this.”
“Wooyoung,” your expression softens, heart swelling inside of your chest.
“You make me so unbelievably happy, Angel.” He tells you, keeping his voice low as if sharing the most intimate of secrets with you. Right now, he is. “With all that I am, I am so in love with you. I would do anything, give anything just to see you smile. I will never forget what you mean to me. I don’t think I ever could, even if I tried. You mean too much to me. Besides, you are the only one I will ever want. You are the only one I will ever need. For me, there will never be anyone else. Only you.”
Shifting slightly, you lean over him. Bringing your hands up, you cup his face in your palms, staring deeply into his eyes as you being to grind your hips against his own.
“My Wooyoung,” a moan escapes him at your words, “I am deeply in love with you. Not a day passes where I don’t count myself lucky to have you in my life. You have shown me a love, a devotion I never thought was possible for someone like me. I will never forget that, nor what you mean to me. I am grateful to have someone like you to make me laugh, to make me smile,” your expression echoes your words, “To make me feel loved. Truly, you light up my life, Sunshine.”
“My Queen.” Tears line the corners of his eyes, your words washing over his very soul and setting his whole body alight with an ecstasy he has never felt before in his life.
“I am yours, Wooyoung.” Your words have the first of his tears falling freely down his cheek. “And you are mine.”
“I’m yours, and you’re mine.” He repeats, wrapping his arms around your body and holding you tightly to his chest.
Gently, Wooyoung begins to help guide your movements over him. Every rise and fall of your warmth over his cock causes low moans to escape the both of you, each revelling in the intimacy this moment brings you. You feel connected to each other, in more than one way, basking in each other’s tender embrace.
At hearing the way your breath hitches after he shifts his hips slightly, Wooyoung smiles. His lips trail the softest of kisses along your neck, feeling the way your pulse races alongside his own. Long since have your hearts begun to beat as one, and neither of you would have it any other way.
The way you so eagerly move above him makes Wooyoung’s head spin. Desperately, he clings to you, moans bordering on growls the longer he feels your warmth squeezing him so sinfully.
“That’s it, My Queen. Claim what’s always been yours.” Wooyoung’s breathless voice reaches your ears and he feels you clench around him. His lips part, a low groan escaping him. “From the very first moment I saw you, I’ve been yours. You own every piece of me: mind, body, and soul.”
Again, the way your walls clench around him has moans falling from both of your lips this time.
“Wooyoung,” The sigh of his own name from your lips is just as breathless, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. “My King.” A pleased hum escapes you, feeling him twitch inside of you as you continue to grind your hips down against his own. “So good to me.”
He moans unabashedly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip tightens around you.
“Please, My Queen,” his words are but a mere sigh as his chest heaves with every pant. His gaze shines with nothing but pure love and dedication as he meets your own. “Kiss me.”
Your lips are on his without another thought, continuing to lean over him as your walls squeeze his cock so sinfully.
His hands pull you closer, nails shamelessly digging into your flesh. His hold is desperate, small whimpers escaping him as his brow furrows. Parting from you briefly, he absolutely adores the way you immediately come to rest your forehead against his own.
“My Angel.” His voice is airy as he whines out his beloved name for you. Eagerly, he grinds his hips up into you, meeting your every movement in tandem as you sigh his name so tenderly.
“My Beauty.” The breaths that escape him begin to boarder on low growls, chest rumbling with each exhale that he makes.
“My Queen.” This time, there’s no denying the pleased snarl that escapes him, his eyes flashing black as he takes in the wondrous sight that is you above him once more. Ever so slightly, his grip tightens around your body, pulling you flush against his chest. “Mine.”
You cannot help the way your walls involuntarily clench around him from his words.
“Yours, Wooyoung.” The blissful sigh that falls from your lips is music to his very ears. “And you’re mine.”
“Fuck-“ a desperate shudder wracks his entire body as his eyes fall shut in pleasure, a euphoric feeling unlike ever before flooding his veins as your words wash over him. “All yours, Angel. All fucking yours.”
Carefully, you push yourself back to your full height, hands supporting yourself on his chest as you continue to move above him. The way he brings a hand down to begin circling your clit with his thumb has a whimper escaping you. Your eyes fall shut, feeling that all too familiar tightening in your lower abdomen as you completely surrender yourself to the pleasure.
“Feels so fucking good, My King.” You breathe out.
“Yeah?” You fail to see the way the corner of his lips quirk deviously. “I know what will make it feel even better.”
This catches your attention, cracking your eyes open to stare down at him with all of the energy you can muster for the moment.
“Would My Angel like to know what a true monster cock feels like buried within her tight little pussy?” His gaze is sharp, calculated in the way he watches your every reaction carefully.
You find that you can’t even form words, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you absolutely keen above him. The desperate whine that escapes your lips says it all.
Every movement of your comes to a halt as you feel his cock slowly beginning to shift inside you. You can feel him expanding, his girth beginning to stretch you out in completely new ways as bumps and ridges begin to press against your inner walls.
The grin Wooyoung wears is deadly, keeping his thumb firmly pressed against your clit the whole time. Purposely, he shifts his cock to fit the contours of your pussy, pushing against your most sensitive spots as he fills your tight little hole unlike ever before.
High pitched moans falls from your lips as you attempt to support yourself above him with your hands on his chest. Your breathing deepens, feeling yourself clenching rhythmically around him as every new ridge on his cock presses deeply inside of you.
“Dragons cocks are quite unique,” he drawls out, his thumb pressing over your clit moving in the slightest of circles over you. “Every one is different, and this one is made just for you.”
With a loud cry of his name, you’re collapsing on top of him. The sudden, overwhelming feeling of your orgasm crashes into you without warning, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as tears of overstimulation line your eyes. Every shift of his hips, you feel his cock and all those special ridges brushing up inside you. Still, his thumb has yet to leave your clit.
Focussing back in on your surroundings, you register faint, pleased growls echoing lowly in your ears. Wooyoung’s chest rumbles in delight beneath you, his arms wrapping securely around your waist as he finally removes his thumb from over your clit. Slowly, you can feel his cock shifting back to its regular size inside of you.
Nothing but small whimpers and whines escape you, the only word able to form on your lips is his name. A fact of which has his chest swelling with an insurmountable amount of pride as he strokes a hand tenderly over your back.
“That’s it, Angel.” He coos softly. “I’m right here. You did so well for me. I’m so proud of you.”
Jagged pants escape you with every breath, eyes somewhat glazed over. Your mind is in a haze as you come down from your high, clinging onto him for dear life in attempts to ground yourself back to reality.
A few more minutes pass by with him cooing sweet nothings in your ear, his cock remaining buried deep within your dripping pussy. Even he knows that that was a lot for you, and he doesn’t want to make you any more sensitive right now than you already are.
“Good girl,” his voice is but a gentle caress, mirroring the way he holds you close. “My Beautiful Queen.”
Finally, you’re able to catch your breath.
“That was-“ you search for the right word, noticing how Wooyoung holds his breath in anticipation. “That was intense.”
“I’m sorry, Angel. I probably should have waited-“
“I fucking loved that.” You manage to shift your head in order to meet his gaze. “Don’t you dare apologize, Woo.”
A low, pleased growl reaches your ears. “You did?”
“Absolutely.” You collapse back on top of him. “I’m only sorry you haven’t gotten a chance to finish yet.”
“I am more than content to simply lay here like this with you.” He replies, quite earnestly at that. A fact which makes your heart swell with warmth in your chest. “I don’t need to finish.”
“Huh, that’s too bad, then.” Your brow furrows slightly, nuzzling against his chest affectionately. “I was rather enjoying this all.”
“Do you-“ he swallows thickly. “Do you not want it to end, yet?”
You take a moment to consider his words, but at the devious smirk that pulls at your lips, he knows you’re only holding him in suspension to tease him.
“No.” You hum. “I don’t.”
The pleased rumble that shakes his chest says it all.
“Then, what would you have me do?” Wooyoung is much too eager as he says this, eyes shining with an excited gleam.
Your gaze trails back upwards to meet his own, drifting passed him in the next second as your eyes land on the mirrors behind him. You clench around him.
“Uh…“ you trail off, blinking a few times to clear your head.
His brow quirks. “I know that look.”
“What look?” You turn back to him.
“The look that says you’re thinking of something, but you’re unsure if you should actually express your desires or not.” He smiles, somewhat knowingly at you.
“It’s a bit of a selfish request.” You admit.
“Angel, nothing is a selfish request when you’re with me.” His hand lovingly caresses over your spine.
You inhale sharply, blinking as if you’re still attempting to make up your mind for the moment. Then, your whole body is heating as you avoid his eyes, swallowing thickly.
“I’ve always wanted to be taken against a wall.” You admit lowly, shifting your gaze up to meet his own once more. “I want you to take me against the mirrors, Wooyoung, and I want you to have your true wings out when you do so.”
This time, it’s his turn to inhale sharply.
“Only if you’re comfortable with that, of course-“
The words have hardly finished leaving your lips when you find yourself pinned against the mirrors. The glass is cool against your back, causing a shiver to caress your spine as Wooyoung presses himself into you. Your legs are hooked over his arms, the back of your knees settling in the crooks of his elbows as he holds you effortlessly against the one panel. His breathing is heavy, head tilted forwards as he now avoids your gaze for the time being.
“You want to see my wings?” His voice is a mere whisper, yet you can still hear the heavy emotion behind his every word.
Even he cannot deny the way your walls clench around his cock still buried inside of you from his words.
“More than anything.” You breathe out. “Please, Wooyoung. Won’t you show me?”
You watch as he slowly lifts his head to meet your gaze. His eyes shine with something you don’t quite understand, but from the way that he presses into you closer, you think you actually do.
Finally, he has found the one person he can be the most vulnerable with. From dancing, to his true form, he will give his all to you. Every part of him is yours, and he will gladly put himself on display in any and every way imaginable just to see you happy.
In the flickering light of the candles, two great, bat-like wings begin to emerge from his back. They are a dark brown, the thin, leathery membrane between each bone almost appearing mahogany in colour as he stretches them outwards in the air. Faintly, you can see dark veins criss-crossing through the semi-transparent membrane binding each section of his wings together. A few faded scars litter his skin. On the top of each of the main joints where his wings bend rests a claw-like protrusion, slightly curved and tapering off into a sharp point.
There is no hiding your awe filled expression as he shakes out his wings lightly behind him. The fact that you continue to stare, completely transfixed at them with nothing but adoration and excitement shining within your gaze sets his heart racing within his chest.
“Wooyoung,” you shift your gaze back to his own, and you briefly see a hint of nervousness flash across his features. “They’re beautiful.” Your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders this whole time, move to tenderly cup his face. “You’re beautiful.”
“Angel,” he swallows his building emotions, tears beginning to well in his eyes for the nth time today.
“Can I-“ your fingers twitch as you do whatever you can to prevent yourself from reaching out towards them for the moment. “May I touch them?”
You swear he stops breathing.
He blinks away his tears, nodding vigorously in the next second. “You may.”
The instant the confirmation slips past his lips, you’re lifting your hands towards his wings. Your touch is nothing but delicate, gently tracing the natural curve as he flares them out for you to have easier access.
A shudder caresses his entire body, and you’re quick to retract your hand.
“I’m sorry.” Your brow furrows in worry. “Did I hurt you?”
He shakes his head. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Oh. Oh.” A melodic giggle escapes your lips as you grin. “Should I continue, then?”
“Please do.” He nearly begs, his response a mere breathless whisper.
You do not need to be told twice.
Another shudder wracks his entire body the instant your fingers return to brushing along the curve of his one wing. Delicately, you dance feather like touches over the top, soon beginning to trace over a prominent vein you can see within the membrane.
Lowly, Wooyoung moans.
Sparing a glance at his face you notice his eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in what appears to be concentration. A moment later, you find out why.
The closer your touch becomes to where his wings protrude from his back, the deeper his breathing gets. As soon as you start to gently massage the membrane attached to his shoulder blades, he moans. The instant your fingers make contact with the skin of his back, right between where his wings protrude, his cock twitches deep inside of you.
“Angel,” his head falls forward, forehead resting against the skin of your bare shoulder as he attempts to control himself for the time being.
Shifting slightly, you allow yourself to get a better angle to reach his back. Your one hand massages over the spot right between his wings while the other gently traces over the contours of cartilage and bone. Every twitch of his wings, you take note of, focussing on the movements which have him moaning the loudest, and cock throbbing inside of you.
“So pretty, Wooyoung.” You hum, nuzzling against the side of his head and placing a lingering kiss to his skin. “I absolutely adore your wings. They’re so smooth.” You emphasize your words with a finger tracing delicately against that leathery membrane. “And strong.”
Another low groan escapes him, his breathing coming in ragged pants.
“Don’t stop.” He chokes out, hips beginning to grind into yours with shallow thrusts. “Please, My Queen,” he gasps, holding you tighter, “Don’t fucking stop.”
“I didn’t know you could get even more attractive, Sunshine.” Another kiss is placed against the side of his head as you continue to massage his wings so tenderly. “Have I ever mentioned how I love men with wings?”
“Must have slipped your mind.” He groans out, wings twitching once more.
“Well, I do.” You say, your words but a low drawl on your lips. “I find them incredibly sexy, especially when I know how sensitive they can be.”
A low moan of your name falls from him in response.
“So fucking beautiful,” you nip at his ear, increasing the pressure of you one hand massaging between his shoulder blades ever so slightly. “So incredibly sexy.”
“Oh, fuck- you’re gonna make me-“ A sharp hiss escapes him as his legs begin to shake. “I’m gonna-“
“Come for me, My King.”
A guttural growl escapes him, teeth latching onto the skin of your shoulder as he feels his orgasm washing over him. His cock throbs as he releases deep inside of you, pressing you firmly against the mirror as his eyes flash black and his wings flare out behind him. 
Wooyoung’s entire body shakes, whimpers and whines soon tumbling from his lips as his chest heaves with every breath. His hands dig harshly into the skin of your waist, brow furrowed as he revels in the aftermath of his high.
Never has he ever allowed himself to be so vulnerable with any other lover. However, because it’s you, he finds that he can let himself just be, succumbing to his deepest desires and letting himself be loved in a way that he wants to be loved only by you.
Slowly, he detaches his teeth from your skin, placing tender kisses over the indents he’s left behind. At least he didn’t pierce your flesh. Though, from the way you shudder pleasantly from the feeling, he doesn’t think you would have minded at all.
“My Angel,” he whimpers, grinding himself into you as he holds you flush against his body. “My Perfect Queen.”
Purposely, he extends his wings out behind him, bringing them down in one powerful swoop as he steadies himself on his feet. Again, he grinds himself into you, already feeling the way your combined fluids begin to drip out of your tight little hole and onto his thighs as he holds you close.
“Wooyoung, you-“
“Shhh,” he coos at you, nipping at the shell of your ear as he attempts to get his breathing back under control. “My Queen desires for me to take her against the mirrors of my studio, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Another shallow thrust is given to you, your body moving in time with him as he adjusts your position slightly. He makes sure to lift you slightly off of the mirror for the moment, ensuring your back isn’t sticking to the glass due to your sweat. Once he’s confirmed you’re fine, another thrust is given, much sharper than the last one.
Flaring his wings out behind him, Wooyoung repeats the same action from only seconds before, this time using his momentum to sharply thrust into you as he does so.
A choked moan escapes you in surprise, thighs tensing against his arms in response to his movements. Of course, Wooyoung is quick to pick up on such a reaction, the corner of his lips quirking upwards as his eyes darken.
“Look at you,” Another sharp thrust aided by the tremendous beat of his wings. “You’re fucking mesmerizing, My Queen.”
Your lips part, hands seeking purchase on his shoulders as he slowly begins to increase the frequency of those sharp thrusts of his.
“Feels so fucking good around me, I don’t think I could ever get enough of this pussy.” He moans, eyes falling shut in bliss. “Just listen to how wet I’ve made you.”
As if to emphasize his point, he gives a pointed thrust, the wet squelch of his cock sinking into your dripping cunt resounding through your ears.
“Fuck, you’ve made me so sensitive.” He inhales sharply, whole body shaking as his hips snap into yours once more. You meet his gaze and you watch as his eyes flash dangerously. “I love it.”
Adjusting his grip on your body, he holds you tighter, beginning a brutal pace as he makes you bounce on his cock.
“I want to make you cream all over my cock again.” He growls. “I want to feel you squeezing around me so delicately again.”
A choked gasp escapes you as your sensitive walls flutter around his hardening cock. Already, you can feel the telltale signs of overstimulation creeping in again, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.
“I want to hear you fucking scream my name as I make you come for me.” His voice boarders on an animalistic snarl. “I want to fulfill all of your darkest fantasies, and then I want to drown you in an ecstasy you never thought was possible.”
“My-“ your breath hitches as you whine quite loudly, “King-“
“That’s fucking right, Angel.” His voice is the deepest you’ve ever heard it go. “I’m Your fucking King, and you are My fucking Goddess.”
Your lips part, but all that escapes you are whines and whimpers right now. Each snarl you hear him let out goes straight to your core, feeling yourself clenching around him almost rhythmically.
“You’re so fucking perfect, My Goddess.” Long since have his eyes bled black, his nails once again sharpening into claws as they prick into the skin of your ass. “Like you were made just for me.”
“Yours.” A single coherent thought escapes you, only serving to fuel his every movement even further.
“That’s right, My Queen.” He nips at the skin of your neck. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”
You pull him in closer to you with whatever remaining strength you have. “Mine.”
A guttural groan escapes him, loud and shameless. You can tell from the way snarls continuously fall from his lips that he’s faring no better than you are, desperately doing whatever he can to bring you the utmost pleasure for the moment despite the intense overstimulation he feels.
“Come on, My Queen.” He pants out, biting and sucking at the skin of your exposed neck. “Come for me. Come for Your King.”
Briefly, his eyes flit downwards.
“Rub your clit for me, Angel, and come all over this cock.” He licks his lips. “I need to see you fall apart for me again.”
Shakily, you shift your one hand down between your two bodies, fingers trembling as you barely brush them over your clit.
A desperate whine of his name escapes you, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you at any second.
“It’s okay, My Angel.” He coos softly into your ear, nipping at it in the next second. “I’ve got you. Make yourself feel good, and then let yourself go.”
The sound of his heavy breathing is encouragement enough, for you can tell that he won’t last too much longer. Still, he waits for you. He needs to see you fall apart again before he can so much as allow himself to find release.
Always, your pleasure comes before his own.
Pressing your fingers back to your clit, your entire body shudders. Your movements are a bit sloppy, seeking that last bit of friction to help push yourself over the edge. The wet sounds of skin on skin only serve to make this moment that much more intense, and with one final flick of your wrist, you’re vision is going white as your orgasm washes over you.
A scream of his name tears from your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your whole body shudders in his hold. Not even a moment later, he stills inside of you, wings flaring as hot spurts of his come paint the inside of your walls for the second time this evening.
Sloppily, he thrusts a few more times into you, hearing you whine from the sensation. A second later, you feel yourself being pulled down onto a soft mattress. Your legs are no longer held in his arms, Wooyoung opting to wrap them firmly around his waist instead. Tenderly, he places kisses over your face, grounding you as you come down from your high.
“You did so well for me, Angel.” He hums, hand stroking lovingly over your spine. “I’m so proud of you.”
You blink up at him, still in a post-orgasmic haze. The smile you send him is tender, albeit lazy as you rest against his chest for the time being. Softly, you can hear him mumbling praises to you, his hand tracing all over your body from the top of your head to the bottom of your spine.
For a solid five minutes, you lay like this in his arms, simply basking in the afterglow. That is, until he’s breaking the silence.
“Are you okay, Angel?” His voice is a tender caress, making sure to keep his tone just above a whisper so as not to overwhelm you.
You hum, nodding your head almost absentmindedly in response. 
“Just tired.” You mumble, blinking lethargically up at him.
“I’m sorry, Gorgeous. I think I might have been too intense-“
Frantically, you begin shaking your head in denial. 
“It was perfect, Woo.” You find enough strength to lift your head and place a kiss onto his jawline. “I really enjoyed that. I just… don’t have the same stamina that you all have yet.”
“No,” he chuckles, placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I suppose not.”
Carefully, you allow your head to fall back onto his chest.
“Come on, Gorgeous,” he lifts you easily back into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
A blink, and you find yourself in another extravagant bathroom, unfamiliar to you, but one that you’re sure belongs to the male who sits you gently on the side of the large tub. A few minutes later, and after he ensures you drink two full glasses of water with a third on its way, the two of you are relaxing into the warmth of a bath. Wooyoung’s arms are around your waist as he holds you to his chest, your heartbeats syncing as one.
A content sigh escapes your lips, allowing your eyelids to flutter closed. You absolutely revel in his moment, adoring the way Wooyoung gently begins massaging your shoulders.
“Shouldn’t I be doing this for you?” You hum, tilting your head slightly to the side to give him better access to your neck.
“You technically already have. Besides, I wanted to do this for you.” Comes his reply, his fingers tenderly rubbing at all of the knots he can find and working them out of your muscles. “Just let me take care of you.”
You hum contently. “Okay.”
Half an hour later, you find yourself wrapped up in his bed, his blankets draped precariously over the both of you. One of his arms rests over your hip, while you curl yourself into his embrace while facing one another.
Blinking up at Wooyoung, you cup his face gingerly in your one hand.
“Are you okay, Sunshine?”
The loving smile that pulls at his features is answer enough.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life.” He admits.
“Oh, you’re just saying that.” A heat blossoms on your cheeks as you smack his chest playfully.
“I just made love with the most beautiful girl in the world.” His eyes shine with the sincerity of his honeyed words. “A beautiful Goddess who loves me, just as I love her.”
Your expression softens, heart swelling inside of your chest as you look at him. You hold nothing but fond affection for him in your gaze, fingers coming up to brush some of his stray strands of hair behind his ear.
“I do.” You confirm with a gentle nod. “I do love you, Woo.”
“And I love you,” he leans forward to peck your lips. “My Goddess.”
The vibrant smile that stretches across your features sets his heart racing inside of his chest. There is nothing that could take this moment away from the both of you right now, happy to bask in each other’s presence for the evening as you lay in his bed.
For about ten minutes, nothing more is said between the two of you. You’ve even shifted your positions slightly. Now, you lay on your back while Wooyoung curls into you. His head rests on your chest, listening to the comforting sound of your heart beating alongside his own. Tenderly, the thumb of his right hand rubs over your skin beneath your shirt as your fingers thread themselves through his hair.
“I would have said ‘yes’, you know.” The soft whisper of his voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts for the moment. At the way you look down at him in confusion, hand pausing in his hair, he’s quick to continue, “That day at the mall. Even if you didn’t call in that favour from our bet, I would have told you to go have fun with your friend.”
You blink at him mildly in shock.
“Even knowing what you know now?” There’s no malice in your voice as you ask him this, only a genuine curiosity held there as you resume combing your fingers through his hair.
“Even knowing what I know now.” He confirms with a soft hum. He curls into you deeper. “I just thought you should know.”
You smile faintly, heart warming as you watch his eyes slowly close.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“I wanted to tell you ever since that day.” He replies honestly. “I just- I guess it was simply just never the right time.”
“You’re telling me now.” Comes your gentle response.
He hums, perfectly content to continue resting here with you in your loving embrace.
It is then when he gets an idea.
Wooyoung can hear your soft intake of breath as he makes his wings appear once more. Carefully, and with the greatest of ease, he wraps them around the both of you, blanketing you in both his protection and his warmth.
“I love you, My Angel.” Tenderly, he nuzzles against you, his voice but a mere whisper on the air.
“I love you, My Sunshine.” Your reply is equally tender, keeping your tone just as soft as his own.
Closing your eyes, you let out a content breath, fully relaxing into this moment with Wooyoung held in your arms.
That night, you fall asleep to the comforting sound of his heartbeat, and the brush of smooth wings surrounding you in a tender, loving embrace.
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