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#RIP coming up with a good title
liveontelevision · 16 days
Note
MY FAVE POOKIE.... BY ANY CHANCE CAN.. CAN YOU WRITE FOR A VAMPIRE LUCI?? <3 I FEEL LIKE YOU'D CAPTURE HIM PERFECTLY
YOU'RE ONTO SOMETHING HERE BBG
(You're drawing of vamp Luci is literal eye candy and I'M IN A SUGAR COMAAA) I got way into the lore here I literally did nothing but write and edit this today - THAT BEING SAID this may need a 2nd part but lmk what y'all think
CW: He's a vamp, so.. blood in suggestive situations obvi
♡♡♡
Bite Me | Vamp Lucifer x Reader
"Isn't it just amazing?" You hold a book, opened to a certain illustration, far too close to your friend's eyes. They push the book back a bit just to get a peak, considering their nose was essentially in the pages. The paper reeked of dust and mildew. They subsided a sound of disgust to inspect the illustration you were so eager to show off.
"Oh! This is that weird mansion on the other side of town, but.. it looks..." 
"Stunning? This was what it looked like when it was first built and look-" You excitedly point out a certain tower, it was so thin and far back, that not even the pencil of the original artist could capture its true detail.
"Wait,  that's not there anymore, is it? Weird." Your friend shrugged it off, clearly not as invested as you. You scoff, pulling the book to your chest.
"Well.. not in the daytime, at least." You muttered. This was your hometown's rumor that's been spread for centuries. On the highest hill, past the overcrowded forest, sits the darkest and most foreboding manor anyone has seen. Even the oldest living relatives of those who have seen it, never recall what it looked like in its glory days. No one's quite sure when it was first built. It's as if it had always been there.
No one would really talk, only the seniors and the more.. eccentric.. People would even mention it. A tower that exceeded the height of the full moon, which was the only time it was visible to the naked eye. You've seen it yourself. But you were too inspired, too invested, to be satisfied with a little rumor and a single sighting.
You did your research. You scowered the forest, only to get lost for hours. You managed to find the manor, but in its close proximity, there was no sign of that tower. You found a book, shoved away under some shelf in your public library, depicting poorly written journal entries and illustrations. From what you could decipher, it was older than the town.. it must belong to its original tenants.
The handwriting was almost entirely illegible, which was disappointing, but the pictures inside.. they were crafted beautifully. Scenic drawings of the forest, animals, and a few of a stunning woman were scattered throughout. Every historian you tried to contact left your messages unopened. Any townspeople you'd show the pictures to, to see if they’d recognize the woman at least, looked at you like you were crazy.
Well.. crazy or not, there's only one real way to settle this.
You mark your calendar, circling every full moon for the rest of the year. And it nearly took that long to finally spot the tower, again. After all this time, restless nights where you'd fall asleep with the book in hand, strained sessions of trying to decipher the wording, yet it all got you nowhere. You'd lost friends because of this. You've skipped dates. All because of this damned tower. 
But finally, here it is! Ready to throw yourself from your bedroom window, you take the bag that had been packed for months in case of this very instant, but decide it best to leave through the front door.
You had memorized the path to the manor at this point. What could possibly be drawing you in so deeply? What history could this place possibly hold? Who was the woman drawn in this book.. and who was the artist? You stood in awe, finally seeing the tower up close. The manor itself seemed to be made of an entirely different stone. You jot down your notes and the differences you're seeing in a small book.
You nearly squeal at the sound of the creaking double doors, as you step inside. It wasn't your first time here, you reach into your bag to obtain the little map you had drawn out a few weeks back. Were you going insane? Who's to say? You traced your finger across a path you had drawn, then with determination, went towards the corridor that should lead you to whatever you were looking for.
You stopped and took pictures on occasion, observing things you have seen countless times over the past few months. It still managed to take your breath away. You turned around, stepping backward, to observe the intricate detailing of the high ceilings, letting out little ooh's and aah's you'd assume no one would hear. But you couldn't be sure.
You nearly stumble, turning to face the corridor head-on. A crumbling noise had sent a shock of fear and curiosity into your heart. Was this place ready to cave in? Did something else cause the destruction?
As you continue on, you decide it best to place headphones over your ears. With one ear still slightly free, you do your best to distract your fears and keep exploring. As you hum along, occasionally breaking out into song, your eyes are drawn to a small doorway that definitely was not there during your previous visits. It's made of a different wood than the other doors. It looks.. newer. The handle seems used as If the oils of a hand had worn down its clean coating. This has to be it. Your hand is shaking as you reach for the door, and your heart drops for a moment. It’s warm underneath your touch. With a final breath, you open the door.
It’s.. not exactly what you were expecting. The door led to an impossibly long spiral staircase, you weren't sure if you could make it to the top before daylight. It's too late to go back now, though. You dredge on. As you start your climb, the music from your headset turns to static. And what you expected to be a mile-long staircase ended in mere seconds. Confused by the distortion of the building, you pull out your little journal to document your new discovery as you continue on. 
The steps lead into the tower, you were sure of it. The bricks of the walls and the wood of the doors, it was all different than the manor below. It opened into a short hallway, with a few doors on either side. Opposite to you was a window. It wasn’t shattered or cracked, or even dusty. You press your hands against it and lean forward to see the view of your town. In a stereotypical, I can see my house from here! moment, you pull out your phone to take yet another picture, but.. it's dead. After being fully charged before your arrival. Of course. It's a magical tower that only appears on a full moon and has disappearing staircases, you weren't too shocked by sorcery after what you've exposed yourself to.
As you take in the terrifying height of the structure from the window, something happens that officially startles you for the first time tonight. You hear a gruesome cackling from behind a nearby doorway.
You quickly find its source, pressing your ear to the wooden door. You couldn't make out any specific words, but there was a voice. It was a man's voice. He seemed to laughing, then groaning and complaining about something, then talking some more.. quite a blabbermouth for someone who seems to be alone, you don't hear any other voices.
You have a weapon in your bag. It's nothing fancy, just a little switchblade, but you assumed it'd be enough to ward off at least a single person. Just in case. You decide to go in.
"Oh, who am I kidding, this sucks!" An exacerbated groan, and the sound of something crashing, can be heard as you crack the door open a bit. You peek inside.
A pacing man is surrounded by trinkets, books and tools in some kind of workshop. He looks human.. almost. You notice his skin is nearly paper white. It has a beautiful glow to it, that contrasts against his mostly black wardrobe. You clock his clothes as almost Victorian, a puffed blouse that cinches in at his waist with the assistance of a red-laced vest. His heels seem a bit tall for the time period, but even then, he's actually rather.. short. Despite that, his hair was slicked back but seemed to be coming undone. You watch him pace around for a while longer, finally capturing his arms running through his hair. They're tapered black, as if his hands were dipped in soot. How odd. You want a picture. You want to talk to him, to ask him questions.
You're too engrossed in the view you were spying on to notice he had stopped his jabbering and was now frozen in place at the sight of you. An awkward amount of time passes before either of you make a decision on what to do next.
You decide it best to just forget about this random encounter. This was obviously just another dream. It wasn't, but this wouldn't even be the strangest one you've had. You finally break eye contact, pulling the door shut behind you.
You lean your entire body against it, desperate to keep him contained until you can get your thoughts straightened out. Maybe he's nice! Maybe he's not an insane, inhuman, tinkerer who talks to himself. Before you can think a moment longer, the door opens and thoroughly knocks you to the floor. You scuff your knees and palms against the stone floor, hissing at the wounds before turning on your back to face your attacker.
Okay, it wasn't an attack, exactly. He just opened the door you were standing in front of. You were a little shocked, considering you were putting your full weight on it and he swung it open like nothing was there at all.
your widened eyes were met with his yet again. They seemed different than before. His irises were suddenly glowing a crimson red, staring down at you with a look of disgust. Your heart rate quickens as you finally catch more of his features. The glow of his eyes and the moonlight from the window show off a set of demonic horns, twisting and turning from his temples, and pointed ears. Then finally, you spot his frown- then his fangs.
You slowly crawl backward, making as much distance as you can before your back hits the cold stone of the wall. Your breathing rapidly as he kneels down, continuing to observe your tense body language from such a close distance.
"What is this- how did you get in? I made a whole fancy labyrinth for you little humans and you still manage to pester me." He seems curious now, still annoyed by the interruption, but curious. He catches the sight of your blade, taking it from underneath your hand.
"And you thought this could kill me?" He scoffs, tossing it to the side. "I thought the ones smart enough to get in would put more effort into their weapon of choice." He finally stands, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you. His piercing red irises had you staring for an inappropriately long time. He looks around, then behind him, in disbelief that you'd be this lost in his eyes. He clears his throat to get your attention.
"N-no! I don't want to kill you, I swear! I just.. I wanted to..." Why were you here again? To find what's inside the haunted tower? To explore a rumor and find the truth? You'd hate to consider it.. but could you have been wasting all this time after finally being faced with the anticlimactic answer? Your silence doesn't seem to amuse the stranger.
"What, you just stumbled upon my hidden tower? That doesn't sound right. Well, I'll tell you now, I'm not some genie or wizard- I won't grant you wishes or anything stupid like that." He starts to head back to his office. "I have nothing to offer you, so just pretend this is a nightmare or something and go home." You see a little flame puff from his lips as he speaks, clearly irritated by your presence. 
"Wait- wait! I forgot!" You stumble to your feet, wincing at the pain in your scraped knees, but still going on to fumble through your bag. You find your tattered book. The relic that started this all.
"Is this yours?" He takes the book from your hand, skimming through the pages then glaring back up to meet your eyes. 
"Did you steal this?" You shake your head with haste, watching him continue to examine the book. "Then.. yes. This is mine. I'm surprised it's still in one piece." He stops at one of the drawings of the woman. He brushes his hand across the illustration with a dreamy sigh.
"She's beautiful." Your voice breaks his concentration and you see his pale skin turn ever so slightly pink. 
"She is, isn't she?" With a warm smile, you almost forget his threatening nature.
"Who was she?" He looks away from you, letting the book shut.
"It's not important. You need to leave." He leads you to the door. You try to keep up with his strides, only to fumble, your knees weak and bruised from the previous fall. He spots the bleeding scuffs and groans.
"Good lord, you humans are so fragile." You hear him grumble before he's turned on his heels and is dragging you back towards that workshop you intruded on. He grabs you by your arms and guides you to sit down at a little table he had set up. You examined the room after he had walked away. You saw his workbench. It held numerous little springs and gears, paints, and brushes. Looking to the side, you see a shattered figurine, probably what he had thrown during his little tantrum you spied on.
Seeing him standing above you stops your wandering eyes. He kneels down, already wrapping your wounded knees in gauze. You watched him silently. You were surprised at how comfortable the space seemed, considering a man with a demonic presence was currently tending to you like a nurse.
"So.. what are you exactly?" You finally blurted out. You had so many questions, but this was a good place to start.
"Oh. Um.. I think I hear humans referring to me as a vampire." Your blood runs cold and you squeeze the edge of your seat on either side. You feel his hand tremor for a moment, letting his eyes linger on your legs before finishing up one knee with a neat tie. He moves on to the next.
"So you're immortal and drink blood and all that?" He scoffs at your questioning shaking his head. You sound like a curious child.
"That’s.. Mostly correct. Actually, your human literature seemed to accurately portray a lot of my abilities. I'm almost impressed."
"Should I be scared?" You ask with an almost teasing tone, as if that weren't possible.
"Why? Do you think I'm scary?" He looks up for a moment, meeting your eyes. Its subtle, but you see them glowing just slightly. And it almost makes you nervous. Enraptured in an emotion you have to assume is fear, you watch his hands trail around and calf to bring your leg a bit closer. He sticks out his tongue. It's similar to a serpents’. Your eyes follow his tongue to your knee, where he licks the entirety of the wound.
In a state of shock, all you do is tense in your seat, wincing from his action. His tongue reels back, stained with the blood from your own wound. He lets out a breathy hum, before realizing his place.
"E-excuse me, I uh.. have healing properties..?" You cock your head to the side, the confusion in your mind quickly replaced with curiosity.
"Woah, really?" He finishes off your other knee.
".. No. Okay, all patched up. You have to leave." He said hurriedly before the realization could set in. He was embarrassed by his actions sure, but the sunrise softly lighting the room seemed to make him anxious.
"Wait- no! I have so many questions! Why do I have to go? How does this place just vanish in the daytime? Why are you here all alone?" You start to ramble as he manages to move you with ease. "A-at least tell me your name!" You say quickly, breaking from his grasp just before he can shove you out the door. He stops and lets out a sigh.
"Fine. Here." He reaches into his shirt and pulls out a small golden crystal attached to a necklace. Forcing your eyes down to his dipped neckline made you a bit red in the cheeks. With a quick motion, he swings it over your neck.
"This is an Asmodean crystal. You'll be able to see and enter my tower on any night now. You.. you're welcome to return when you see fit." You stare at the small gem in amazement.
"And.. you're just trusting me with this?"
He shrugs, smiling at you for the first time tonight. "You haven't given me a reason not to. You're definitely not a threat." You hum in response, despite his obvious condescending nature. giving the gem one last examination, you tuck it away into your own shirt.
".. And it's Lucifer."
You can't help but grin. “Okay! Time to go! The sun’s almost up!” He rushes you.
"Hm! I'll be back, then, I promise! I'll see you, Lucifer!" You excitedly wave and head back down the stairs. Lucifer.. Your mind was running with possibilities as you left. You turned to the door before leaving, but by the time you looked back, it was simply.. bricked over. You felt almost disappointed. But feeling for the necklace and twirling it between your fingers reminds you that this was all real. He's real.
Lucifer said you could visit. And so you did. While you passed out almost immediately once you returned home, you waited eagerly for the sun to set the next night. You check your window, again. With the crystal squeezed tightly in your fist, you see the familiar tower yet again, despite the full moon being nowhere in sight.
Unfortunately, you are human. You do have a life to live. It took you a few days before you could visit, again, but eventually you did. And it was perfect. Looking down upon in your hometown, it was refreshing to have a new friend. You told him about your own life, giving him some brief history lessons on things he might not know, and bringing him the stereotypical vampire merchandise from current media. He deemed it offensive.
You got him to talk about his past after some pushing. He was one of many brothers, all of them were bloodsuckers of their own accord.
"Wow.. so you came from a whole family of vampires? I mean.. if you don't mind me asking, why aren't you there? What brings you to my glamorous little town?" You say your last question with an eye roll. You were seated at a little bench, a comfortable nook that was set at the window in his workshop, as you watched him working on some sort of mechanical toy. You notice a slight frown tugging at his lips in response to your question.
"Hm. My brothers aren't exactly a fan of me. And you speak sarcastically, but it is actually quite nice here. The air is clearer, and there's much less fire." You look out the window as he's talking.
"Wait.. less fire than where?" He slipped up. You've noticed over these past few visits that he's not too keen on disclosing certain parts of his past. You see him stop what he's doing and curse under his breath.
"I.. I'm from a different realm, of sorts. It's dingy and dark and everyone there cares for nothing but bloodlust." He explains carefully.
"Damn, that sounds like Hell." You pull your knees to your chest, just attempting to sympathize with him by your words.
"You have no idea." He chuckles in response, seeming disarmed enough to continue his tinkering.
"Do you ever go back there? You have to see your family sometimes, right?" He's groaning quietly at your questions.
"Well, yes and no. I'm always here in my tower. And I put a lot of work into making it my own. I'd keep it here forever if I could, but it takes quite a bit of energy from me to keep it in good shape in this realm, so when the sun is out-"
"You return to your own realm! Wow.." you wished you had your book on you to write all this down. But it seemed unnecessary to bring a survival kit here. You felt so safe. 
"How about that lady? In your book? Is she someone from that realm? A family member, maybe?" You bombard him with questions yet again. You do that a lot. He looked over at you with an unenthused glare. You laugh nervously and wave your hands. "N-Nevermind, sorry."
He's made it clear that he doesn't appreciate all these questions. But when he does open up, you can't help but appreciate his fantastical stories.
Looking for a change in topic, you approach his bench, looking over whatever he was working on. With one final screw being turned in, he looks up to you and shows you the small trinket silently. You take it, a bit nervous of its delicacy, and examine it.
"It's fine, it won't break." He rolls his eyes at your nerves. "Like this." He places a hand below yours to steady your grasp and lifts the top of the little round structure to reveal a little sculpted scene. It’s of a pond, with some fish and ducks visible on the pond. It looked so real, despite its size. He smirks at your enthralled expression, reaching for a small key on the back and turning it. It releases a gentle tune, the ducks suddenly spinning and dancing across the pond.
"A music box..?" You question. You look towards him and notice his reaction. He looks almost nervous like he was expecting some harsh critique.
"It's beautiful, Lucifer! Did you use magic or something? This is so cool!" Your outburst leaves him slightly surprised, and just a bit blushed.
"Y-Yes, it is pretty, isn't it?" He says softly, looking away with a smile. By the time he's looking back to you, still enjoying the little trinket, the sun is just peaking from the hills. He should rush to get you out of there. Humans don't belong in his realm, definitely not this one.. but he doesn't want this to end. He wants to show you more, while he listens to you rant about something useless. He shakes his head to reality. He can't have these feelings. Not again.
"It's morning. I'm afraid you have to go, dear." You look just as disappointed as he does, but follow him to the exit either way.
"Wait, here-" You hold the intricate music box back out to him, but he closes his hands around yours, encasing it in your grasp.
"Keep it." His hands are cold. You notice that his skin is always cold, no matter the weather. You wonder if he thinks about the warmth of your hands just as much. Your hands are held together for a bit too long, but the sight of your face in the golden light of the sunrise has him frozen in place.
"What happens if I stay?" Your hasty question snaps him away, quickly tucking his hands behind his back.
"Absolutely not." He says sternly, reaching around and opening his door. "Sorry.. I just.. It’s not safe. You’ll be back though, right?." He smiles, and it always disarms you. Briefly disappointed, you nod and give him a quick wave. You head back to your regular vampire-free life for the time being.
You find yourself back in his workshop, a few months later. The visits were becoming more frequent and neither of you seemed to complain about it.
Since then, the room has been decorated with pillows or blankets you've brought. On occasion, you'd go to see him just to sleep uncomfortably on the small cushioned nook near the window. He never seemed to mind. He'd wake you up carefully before the sun rose.
Other times, you'd bring him tools or gifts from your hometown that he might like, and occasionally you'd get him to eat actual food.
One night you set out one of your blankets on the ground and forced him to sit with you, after seeing him get flustered with whatever he was working on.
"Can you actually eat? Does it do anything for you?" He shrugs in response to your question, popping a little chocolate confection into his mouth.
"Not really. It's more for enjoyment than anything. And these are definitely enjoyable." As he hums at the sweets, he moves to lie down across the blanket, resting his head in your lap. "Where are they from?"
You look down at the little heart-shaped box you've both been taking the treats from and cringe.
"A.. uh.. person. It was a gift. Someone tried to take me out for Valentine's Day, but I wasn't interested." You say quietly.
"Right.. it’s Valentine’s Day… Well, what was wrong with them? Were they rude to you? Ugly?" He asks between bites. You laugh and take a chocolate for yourself.
"No, nothing like that.. they just..." They weren't you. "N-not my type is all." You stammer, quickly shoving the chocolate into your mouth. What are you thinking? He's laughing at you now.
"So you'd rather spend your Valentine's Day with an old crone?" He was joking, but he was right.
"Yeah.. I think I would, actually. I love visiting you." You said calmly, trying your best to keep the compliments.. platonic. Peeking down at him for a second, you notice his tense posture and pink cheeks.
"I-I just- it's not that big a deal, I mean, I've never really celebrated Valentine's Day anyway, so.." You start to fidget with your crystal necklace, picking at the thread and running your thumb along its smooth surface.
"Well..! Then... I'm glad you're enjoying my company, I suppose." He tries to de-escalate the brief tension. You change the subject matter.
"Well, if we're getting on my social life, then I have a question." You finally say. He seems nervous for a moment but is playing it cool to the best of his ability.
"Shoot."
"So, you stay in your tower all day, don't see your family, I don't even hear you talk about that woman from your drawings.. Have you just been alone this whole time?"
He freezes for a moment, before putting a chocolate back into the box and clearing his throat.
"No.. not the whole time." He sighs, standing and going to fetch something. He returns to sit across from you and you’re a little disappointed he didn’t return his head to rest in your lap. It was a journal, it had a similar binding to the one you had found over a year ago.
"Her name is Lillith." He starts, flipping the pages and stopping at one of her drawings. "She's from my realm, and.. we fell in love." For some reason, your heart ached at his words. "I decided to show her this place many years ago, and she wanted to see a nearby village, so.. we went down there together. It was disgusting. People were treating each other so foul, it was loud and dirty, and there was no sign of intelligence." His voice goes dark for a moment, allowing you to flip through the book. "But Lillith loved them. She saw their potential and.. wanted to stay with them. So we made a deal. She'd explore the village when the full moon was out and then return to me the rest of the time."
You look up from the book, seeing that her drawings had stopped about halfway through. The rest of the book was empty.
"So is she.." you mutter, letting the book drop to see his pained expression.
"I haven't seen her in years. Might be decades at this point, but.. it's hard to keep track. I have no idea where she could be, but if she ever returns then-"
"You're waiting for her?" You interrupt, your voice has a hint of irritation to it.
"Hm. I guess I am. I've given up trying to find her, but I still keep this place standing. Just in case." His face reads dejected as he speaks.
"Do you still love her?" You ask. Of course, he does. He's a romantic, waiting for his long-lost love to return. But he looks at you, with a worried expression. Like he wanted to reassure you that wasn't the case.
"I..I do." He says softly. You feel your chest aching still, and you clench the blanket in your fists on either side of you. "I think so? I-I'm not sure." He groans, running his hands through his hair. "Is that terrible of me?" 
You think for a moment. You have to tread lightly. If he truly loves her, it might be best for you to keep your distance to avoid any.. confusion. You let out a defeated sigh, placing your hand on his shoulder to bring his panicked attention back to you.
"Not at all. It's.. nice. That you can love someone that much, especially after all this time." He smiles in return, placing a hand over top of yours.
"How long has it been, do you think?"
"Hmm.. From what I remember.. when were hot air balloons invented?" He genuinely questioned.
"Good lord."
(The answer is over 300 years ago)
You stopped visiting him for a while. After that night, you needed to step away and consider what you were really doing. He's not just an immortal vampire, he's an immortal vampire still holding out hope for a woman he hasn't seen in centuries. And you're just a human. That kind of relationship only works in movies. The sleep schedule you've created has nearly destroyed your social life and you barely have energy in the daytime anymore. Maybe it was for the best to keep your distance. But you have to tell him that. You can't just disappear, he doesn't deserve to feel that pain, again.
You enter his tower as usual, bringing an empty bag to escort some of your belongings back home. To your apartment, your awful tiny apartment. You avoid comparing it to the elegant manor, it's only making you want to back out. You go through the hall, swinging his workshop door open.
"Luciferrr! Sorry to be away for so long, but I think we should talk." You look around to realize you are speaking to an empty room. You look back to the hall. You've never been through any of the other rooms, but he had to be somewhere. And he wasn't responding to your calls.
You open each door carefully, seeing mostly empty storage and cobwebs. One of the rooms was filled to the brim with clothing from all decades. You make a mental note to tease him for playing dress up, later.
You knock at each door, finally opening one that greets you with the warmth of a bedroom. And by warmth, you mean it. You take any coat you were wearing off, finally spotting Lucifer lying in the elegant bed in the center of the room.
"Huh.. I thought you said vampires don't need sleep." You call out, letting your eyes scan the room as you approach the bedside. He's curled up and unresponsive. His sudden panting briefly eased your nerves, at least he’s breathing.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to just barge in, but.. Lucifer? Are you okay?" You reach out and place your hand to his shoulder. He's hot to the touch. You move his body so that he's lying on his back, and he seems even more distressed.
"L-Lucifer..? Lucifer!" You try to speak quietly, but his actions are making you nervous. He finally shoots upward, gripping his bare chest in an attempt to calm his rapid breathing. He does a double take, not believing that you were at his side. Not to mention your scared expression, which is only causing him more concern.
"I-I'm alright! I'm okay.." He lets out a sigh, brushing his hair back. He scans the room, peering out the window. "Ah, nighttime already? I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to worry you." He turns back to you, seeing your still-shaken expression. "I slept in! It's okay!" He reassures, patting the side of his bed. You hesitate, but sit down either way.
"I thought.. You didn’t need sleep." You say softly, looking to calm yourself.
"I don't, but it is relaxing sometimes."
"That didn't look relaxing at all."
"Well.. I did say only sometimes." You let out a quiet chuckle and it brings a smile to his face.
"I rest when I'm feeling a bit weak, usually a quick nap helps. But.. sometimes I get nightmares and they're-" You interrupt him.
"Weak? Why are you feeling weak? Did something happen?" You lean in, still feeling uneasy.
"... Just a bit. Don't get me wrong, I am quite powerful-” He loves to gloat about his abilities, your usual reactions of amazement never got old. “-but.. this tower takes its toll on me sometimes. It takes a lot of energy to set up illusions and tricks to keep humans out. I just needed a quick pick me up, that's all." That seemed to calm you a bit, but it did bring up another concern.
"Lucifer.. why do you keep coming back here? Is it worth the trouble? Is.. she worth the trouble?" You ask timidly. His eyes are soft, looking in your direction. It turns you a bit red, you hope you can blame it on the heat of the room if he asks.
"I don’t know.. I’ve been thinking. I-If Lillith has any plans on returning, I'd think she would've done so by now." You feel hopeful, but you attempt to not let it show. "But, I've been here for centuries and I've grown rather fond of... the atmosphere." He tries to reason. He pulls your chin forward, greeting you with a sweet smile. "I'm alright, I promise."
You can't help but return the smile, but you miss his touch once he pulls away. At this point, you're finally taking in his appearance. He's covered in sweat, the bags under his eyes are tremendous and his lips are trembling a bit to keep up a smile.
"Are you sure? You still seem.." You reach your hand out, as if you were about to touch his face, but you see him reel back.
"Clearly, I didn't get a good night's rest.. maybe you should head home, dear, I'm not much fun to be around when I'm like this.." He sulks, making it a point to avoid looking at you. With just the sight of you, he might as you to stay.
"No!" His wide-eyed expression shows that you've clearly just embarrassed yourself. "No, I mean- I don't want to leave. Can I help? Can you.. drink my blood or something? Would that do anything?" He's immediately blushing at your suggestion, right to the tips of his ears. He quickly declines.
"No. Nonono.. That is not happening." He crosses his arms over his still bare chest, which neither of you has mentioned yet. That’s not to say you haven't been staring.
"Would it help?" You ask. He sighs and nods. "Would it kill me?" He shakes his head. "Not if I'm careful.."
"Will it turn me into a vampire or something?" He shakes his head, again.
"Then do it. I want to help you! It's the least I can do since you’ve been so sweet to me." You say sternly, beginning to move the strap of your shirt, revealing a bare shoulder.
"Woah woah, okay. Fine.. I’ll just take a little. Since you're so insistent." He moves your strap back up your shoulder carefully. "And there's no need for that, dear, don't get too excited." He teases. He looks like he’s on the brink of death, yet he still manages to make fun of you.
"I-I'm not excited! Shut up.." you stammer, as you feel him pull your hand towards him, keeping a grip just below your wrist.
"Whatever you say." His smirk has you blushing, again." you ready?" You nod your head, attempting to keep a straight face despite the reality of the situation.
He leans forward to face you, and you move closer to be more comfortable. With his clawed hands still holding your arm delicately, he brings your palm to his lips. You feel his hot breath against your skin and instinctively flex your hand. He stops abruptly and looks at you.
"I-I'm fine, just do it already!" He rolls his eyes and positions his fangs right at the pulse point on your wrist. With a deep breath from both of you, he sinks his teeth into your flesh. The skin is thin there, so it wasn't as painful as you thought it would be.
It's awkward for a moment, you don't feel any different at first. But looking towards Lucifer, you see his eyes turning that glowing crimson red that had startled you when you first met. Sure, it still startled you now, but it was Lucifer. He's not as scary as he looks, you tell yourself. You feel a breath of hot air from his nostrils, realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time. His eyes fluttered shut, and that's when you felt it.
It felt like getting your blood drawn, but his fangs were less painful than the needles somehow. You'd only notice your hand start to fall asleep after a while. But his expression stopped you from saying anything. His heavy breaths against your skin, as he occasionally pulled away to lick the wound clean, only to sink his teeth back in the same spot. You placed your free hand over your mouth to prevent any noises from escaping your lips. He pulled off for a moment, then sunk his teeth in another spot, feverishly placing multiple bite marks across the entirety of your wrist. You attempt to speak up through your hand.
"L-Lucifer.. I-I'm..!" He stops almost immediately, sitting up straight and blinking his eyes back to their usual hue. He looks down to your wrist, a mess of bite marks, all still leaking your crimson blood. Your hand had fallen slack.
"Sorry! Sorry-" He runs his tongue across the wounds, it seemed to stop the blood for now. "How do you feel?" Your eyes are dazed a bit, and when you go to prop yourself up on your previously ravished wrist you fall forward. He catches you by your arms, before you can fall away from the bed. You shake your head, finally looking at him through half-lidded eyes.
"I'm okay.." you say weakly. He's nervously trying to keep your head up, and brushing hair away from your face. He moves to the other side of the bed, and brings you along to lie down beside him. He sits on his knees to examine you, keeping a hand cupping your cheek. It's cool to the touch again, a relief for you. You shakily place your hand on top of his, then look towards him. "You look amazing, Lucifer~" You say with a dizzy smile. Despite the wording, you were right. His skin had brightened up, and he instantly lost the bags from his eyes.
"I might've done too much.." He mumbled, tracing his free hand across your wrist. "You're starting to sound crazy."
"No..! I mean it, you're just.. beautiful.. quite a sight." You're delirious. He starts to worry, suppressing his excitement for the oncoming compliments. He'll have to let you rest, no matter how disappointed that made him. He'd missed your company these past few days.
"Whatever you say, darling. Go ahead and rest, I'll get you some water." And he does just that.
You had left some water bottles and snacks here a few months ago, so he hastily took those and brought them back to you. He set everything on the nightstand and went over to open the glass doors to the balcony of his room, bringing in a fresh night breeze. He put an actual shirt on, finally, on the way to look over you from the side of the bed. 
You were just sitting up, leaning against the headboard as you took a very needed gulp of water.
"So? How did I taste?" You tease, stretching your hand now that you’re regaining feeling.
"Delicious." He sounds flirtatious but almost serious. It has you blushing.
Lucifer had gone off to work on something after you insisted you'd be fine and just needed a few more minutes of rest. That didn't go how you expected. You came here to set some boundaries and here you are in his bed, covered in bite marks. The implications alone made you groan from embarrassment.  And slightly in disbelief. You huff and attempt to stand, it’s not too bad, then move to the balcony and lean against the railing. The breeze ran through your hair and across your heated face, you let out a sigh of relief.
"Feeling better, dear?" His voice has you turning your head a bit, and you greet him with a smile. You nod your head before returning your eyes to the town below.
“I’m glad. Thank you, for.. Letting me do that.” He says, sounding a bit shy. He joins you, leaning against the railing by your side. You both stand in silence for a moment.
"I think I'm in love with you, Lucifer." Maybe it was the blood loss or the sheer exhaustion, but something just forced those words from you. You keep your eyes away from him. If this could be the last time you see him, bringing this dream to an end, then you might as well let it out.
"O-Oh..! Hm! Well, that's uh.." He hoots, and you see his hands flexing against the railing. He can't even form a real response.
"It's stupid, I know. I'm a human, and you're this crazy immortal being. Plus, you just drank my blood. Maybe I'm still delirious.." You continue to toy with your gifted necklace, still keeping your eyes low. You don't know how you would react if you could see his expression right now.
"So.. you would... you want to be with me?" That's what he asks? That's his response?
"I-I mean.. yeah. You're my best friend, you're handsome and smart, and you're inventive and... I just love being around you. I want to.. I want to make you happy, but I just don't know if that's something I can do." Your gaze is finally brought to his when his claws gently guide your chin towards him. His expression is that of pure infatuation. You'd never expect to see him look like this, not when looking at you.
"You make me plenty happy, darling." Your eyes go wide.
"You're bright and fun, and you're adorably curious- I just worry as well. I'll outlive you. I've been locked up here for so long, I don't know how much I can offer you.. but it's definitely less than you deserve." His words send a pain to your chest. You both know, based on fact alone, it just wouldn't work.
"I only want you to be happy as well, love." His words force a nervous sigh from you. This seems like a night for bold decisions, so you decide to make another. You turn to face him, bring him in by his collar, and press your lips against his in one fell swoop. Giving him no time to comprehend the situation, he lets out a muffled exclamation into your lips. It felt like hours before you feel his hands on your waist, and his lips desperately ravishing yours. He pulls you closer to him, his hands now reaching your hips and gripping you tighter. You pull his lower lip down with your thumb, keeping a hand on his jaw as you do so, and begin to explore his mouth with your tongue feverishly. A small yelp at the boldness comes from Lucifer before his forked tongue is dancing with yours. You can still taste your own blood on his lips.
He turns the both of you, having your back pressed against the railing of the balcony, giving him the chance to corner you into being as close as possible. He leans his chest into yours, moving in even more. You're leaning over the railing just slightly, but one of his hands is firmly planted against your back, giving you a sense of security. The other is still gripping at your hips, occasionally slipping upwards to brush the bare skin beneath your top, his cool touch acting as a reminder that this is really happening. He props his knee between your legs, having to force them apart gently to do so.
You pull away with a deep exhale after realizing you've been anxiously holding your breath this whole time. Even leaning away from him, your mind was running rapidly with thoughts of his body. You trace your thumb over his lips, parting them just slightly to examine his fangs. He's turning red with the close inspection.
"W-What are you doing..?" You understand what he's trying to say, but his words are still muffled by your hold on him. He sees your eyes ponder for a moment before you look back to him.
"Bite me." You say sternly. Your hand slips away from his mouth and you start speckling small kisses across his forehead and cheeks, lifting his head slightly with a kiss to his jaw.
"Excuse me?? You want-" You hush his stammering by pulling back, to look into his eyes one more time.
"I want you to bite me.. my neck, I mean." You clearly weren't budging. He still seems hesitant but proceeds to move any hair away from your shoulder
"What, does someone enjoy being bitten?” He asks in a teasing tone, looking at you with a smirk. With a deadpan expression, your eyes brimming with lust, you take a hold of his collar again and pull him into a messy kiss. When you pull back, you see a dazed Lucifer, struggling to keep eye contact.
“Yes.”
He huffs, completely enthralled in your enthusiasm, but still seeming nervous. He pulls the strap to your shirt to the side, examining your collarbone and neck. You hear him gulp, as he runs his hand upward until it’s cradling the back of your head.
“I tend to lose myself a little. You saw what happened before, are you sure-"
"I'm sure. I'll tell you if you have to stop." Still very adamant about it, Lucifer pulls your head to one side as you keep your grip on his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists with anticipation.
He places a small kiss first, the action causing you to flinch slightly. You feel him smile on your neck, clearly enjoying your reaction. He kisses every inch of you, each one becoming sloppier than the last.
After thoroughly leaving you in a dazed state of affection, he traces his face to the softest part of your neck, just above your collarbone, and quickly snaps through the skin. With a startled yelp, you glide your hand upward until you've taken a tight grip onto his hair. You barely have time to appreciate how soft it is before you feel the sensation of his fangs piercing a different spot of flesh.
He doesn't seem to be taking much blood.. Definitely not as much as before and not as quickly. It's leaving your head slightly fuzzy, making any sensations, any marks he's leaving on your body, blur into an overall bliss. You're thoughtlessly letting out little moans and gasps at each bite, only encouraging him to keep it up. You feel the vibrations of his groaning against your skin as he moves to hold you tightly around your waist. After a few moments, you start to feel a bit woozy, your body completely melting into his touch. You tap his shoulder quickly,
"Ah.. Lucifer-" Just as before, he made sure to clean any wounds that were still dripping with blood, but he went on to embellish each one with a kiss before pulling away. He looks at you with concern, cupping your cheek and bracing the weight of your lulling head. You smile and hum into his palm.
"How are you doing, darling?" He actively inspects your entirety before meeting your eyes again.
"Lovely~" You say with a drunken chuckle. He pulls you in for another kiss, before easily scooping you up.
"Alright, then.. let's get you to bed, you little perv.” You hit his chest to the best of your ability in your weakened state. His laughter is music to your ears. You’re too tired to worry about how this will affect your relationship. Or your physical health for that matter. But for now, nothing has felt more comforting than his arms wrapped around your body, the cold soothing the heated moment, and your dizzy mind.
♡♡♡
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!Taglist!
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infizero · 11 months
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ok guys i dont wanna be a hater but im gonna be 100% honest i didnt rlly like the nimona movie 😭 I MEAN IT WAS FUN. it was nice. but i feel like it was missing everything that made me like the original graphic novel and honestly by the last like 30 minutes i was kind of just waiting for it to be over so i could read the book again 😭 NO HATE TO ANYONE WHO RLLY LIKED IT believe me when i say i dont think it is bad or anything. but i feel like just sooooo much was changed that it didnt feel like nimona at all to me. idk how to explain it, im sure once i reread the book i’ll be able to put it into words since the original will be more fresh in my mind. i think it was good but as someone who was literally obsessed w the og graphic novel it was honestly kinda disappointing. but i dont rlly care honestly its still rlly cool it got a movie!! 
but in my mind at least it proves that some things dont need to be made into a movie. ppl act like movies are the best form a piece of media can take and if something gets made into a movie then that’d be the peak form of it. but i honestly think nimona works wayyyyyy better in its original graphic novel form. most of the early stuff is way more slice of life lowkey stuff that lets you get attached to ballister and nimona as characters and get invested in their relationship w each other, BEFORE all the angsty final act stuff happens. also there honestly was just a ton of stuff that felt to me like it worked better in the original, like jousting tournament thing instead of the knighting ceremony, nimona being captured and being forced to turn into her “true” form rather than this new version with it just sort of happening bcuz of Emotions, etc. also the movie suffered from a lot of pacing and tone issues imo but the former i think is just from that lack of the slow buildup of their friendship, and the latter is something that i think just worked better in the book. idk again I’LL BE ABLE TO SAY THIS STUFF MORE CONCRETELY WHEN I ACTUALLY REREAD THE BOOK but i dont remember there being so much jokes and goofy shit DURING serious scenes. like iirc in the original during serious scenes it was SERIOUS. but in the movie theres so many unnecessary unfunny jokes and stuff. idk IDK i probably just had too high expectations idk. anyways
#also im kind of mad they changed the ending i know it works similarly but like THE TONE IS TOTALLY DIFFERENT#in the movie ballister goes back to the lair and you hear her voice and he gets all excited and goes ''HOLY SHI-'' and then it cuts to title#which seemed rlly lighthearted and played for laughs and srry but THE ENDING OF NIMONA ALWAYS MADE ME CRY SO IT LOWKEY PISSED ME OFF ToT#IN THE ORIGINAL. he wakes up in the hospital and the nurse like talks to him or whatever and then she comes in again and hes like ?? u were#just here. and shes like no?? and then he sees on the clipboard the nurse left behind the firsttime theres a shark drawing (or smthn)#clearly drawn by nimona. and you see his eyes widen and he rushes out of the room and he runs through a crowd desperately trying to find her#and then he sees her there. in the crowd. and he just stares looking sort of heartbroken. and she gives him a quiet bittersweet little wave#and then she disappears into the crowd. and thats the last you see of her#I FUCKING LOVEEEEEEEEEEEE THAT ENDINGGGGGG IM ACTUALLY SO MAD THEY CHANGED IT#also sorry i will die mad about the climax THE CLIMAX OF NIMONA IS WHAT GETS ME EVERY FUCKING TIME.#THOSE PAGES WITH THE HUGE MONSTER AND LITTLE GIRL NIMONA JUST RIPPING INTO BALLISTER MAKE ME CRYYYYYYY DAWG THEYRE SO GOOD#idk. idk. i cant put it into words but just the overall vibes of the book are so much better imo. i think nd stevenson's style fits the#story reallyyy well and idk if the movie's style rlly does the same. also i wish the movie wasnt as sanded down like the original wasnt like#INAPPROPRIATE. it wasnt adults only. but it had a lot more like. blood and rude humor and stuff. and i miss that#i think the best way i can put it is. the original is the scratchy ever evolving style of nd stevenson it feels raw and unfiltered#and thats why i love it and why it moves me so much. while the movie is much more polished and round and soft and im gonna be honest:#I DONT LIKE IT! sorry. having my hater moment#<- lightheartedly again I DONT THINK THE MOVIE IS BAD i just think that by comparison the book is way better#still incredibly happy for and proud of the whole team that made the movie i think its awesome!!!!#just my personal opinion#serena.txt#nimona spoilers#<- idk if anyone actually needs this but jic
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hey, thanks for the answer on the fic titles! anon was bc i got suddenly shy in the ask box lol. i've had pt 1 of an Road to Ninja AU fic where RTN!Sasuke actually does stuff sitting in my docs for like... at least a year? and i am sick of editing it and it JUST NEEDS A TITLE! i appreciate the tips, i feel like i have a place to start now at least! happy writing with your fics as well!
Ooh I’m very glad if it could help you at least a little bit!! titles are honestly a mystery to me, I usually don’t even remember the ones I make very well so i just tell myself no one else will either lol
I hope you can get that fic up soon!! I love when sasuke does stuff, really when he does anything actually so I’d love to read it when you post it :)!!👀 Good fic vibes all around!!
(Also I feel the anon, i also always get shy and go anon instead haha😅)
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hoshigray · 4 months
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𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~
and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~
prev story » ❤︎
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“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”
“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”
“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”
You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again. 
It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.
Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.
But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.
However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.
But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on. 
And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it. 
“Y/n!”
Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by. 
“Y/n...”
But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop. 
“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“
“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” 
You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.
You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”
“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.
“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”
“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”
And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.” 
The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.
“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.
“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“
“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“
“Did he tell you what he said to me?”
“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.” 
“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”
Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“
“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.
“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”
You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"
“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“
“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”
You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“
“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”
“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?
“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”
Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”
“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”
“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”
And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation. 
“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”
He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down. 
“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”
“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”
“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff. 
“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”
“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”
It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against. 
But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.
“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.” 
Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself. 
From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock. 
Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about. 
And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.
BZZZR!! BZZZR!!
However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button. 
It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—
“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.
“Hi…..Where are you?”
“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”
“In the bathroom.”
“You sitting on the toilet?”
You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”
“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”
“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“
“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”
Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”
“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”
“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”
“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.” 
“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”
“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“
“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?” 
He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin. 
“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”
“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”
“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?” 
You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.
As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.
You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?” 
“Huh?”
“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”
The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”
“Gojo—“
“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.
You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?” 
“….”
“…Gojo?”
“….”
“Gojo? Are you still—“
“I like you.”
Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.
There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.
He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.
“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.
“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”
“How long ago is that?”
“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”
“…Why?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you like me? 
You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.” 
You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say. 
“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”
You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”
“Huh!? Why??”
“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”
“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”
“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”
“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”
“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”
He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”  
“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”
KA-BANG-BANG!!
You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.
“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”
“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“
“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?” 
Huh!? “A date??”
“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”
“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“
“We could skip—“
“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.” 
“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”
For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”
It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out? 
Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.” 
“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”
“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”
“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”
Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”
“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”
“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”
“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”
“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”
“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”
“Goodbye, Gojo.”
“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“
CLICK!
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about. 
As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.
What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.
You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.
“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”
“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around. 
And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.
“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth. 
“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.” 
“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”
“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”
Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip. 
And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”
“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.
After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie. 
However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute. 
Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.
“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t. 
Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”
He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?” 
You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”
“You just saying that to agree with me?” 
“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.
He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:
“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”
He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—
“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”
Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”
You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”
“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”
Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”
“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”
The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”
When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.
Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them. 
This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.
So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed. 
His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.
He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”
He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp. 
But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties. 
You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers. 
When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more. 
“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.
“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”
You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.
“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.
Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”
That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.
He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.
“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.
“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.
His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?” 
You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?” 
He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.
“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”
You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”
Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.
Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.
“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”
You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.
“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“
“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”
“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”
“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”
Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie! 
And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no! 
“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”
Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision. 
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!” 
Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt. 
He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl. 
The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.
He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”
“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck. 
“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”
Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”
“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”
“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?” 
He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”
“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.
“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”
“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”
“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”
“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“
“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”
It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.
After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!
Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours. 
Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.
Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.
And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation. 
You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“
“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his. 
“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“
“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.” 
You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again. 
“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”
On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”
“Uhh, are we interrupting something?” 
With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you. 
You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“
“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”
“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.
Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”
“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”
Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”
Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?
“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”
Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“
“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”
“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”
The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.
Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”
“Gojoooo….”
Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko. 
“SATORUUUU!!!”
You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.
“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”
“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”
And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two. 
It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.
And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.
 It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.
“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”
“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”
And you two wouldn’t want it any other way. 
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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artist-issues · 6 months
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If you haven’t seen Wish yet and you love Disney, do not go see it. I am telling you now. It is ripping out the hearts of the Disney movies you love and then waving their corpses around as if celebrating those hearts.
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I’ll explain why, again: the message of Wish? Awful. Anti-Disney.
But they've been doing this for a long time. Saying one thing with their movies, and saying another with their PR and Disney Parks Soundtracks.
I'll explain.
Main Idea of Disney's Wish (and the You Are the Magic theme park song and merch): "The power to make your wishes come true is in you."
Most Disney Movies' Idea on How to Have Wishes: "Do what's right, (trust a higher power) and something even more wonderful than what you wished will happen."
Don't try to argue with me about this. You have to look underneath the slogans and the sweater designs and the song titles to what the stories actually support to acknowledge this.
Because you can’t say “do what’s right” has power unless you answer the question “who gets to decide ‘what’s right?’” (Which, coincidentally, is a question Wish brings up and then doesn’t answer.)
Audiences of Disney used to accept that wishing on a star was much like prayer; there’s something you long for, and it’s out of your hands, but you wish for it and you do what you know is right in the meantime. And you’re not crushed, you’re not downhearted, because somewhere in your mind you trust that the combo of those two things—wishing on a higher power and diligence to do what’s good—will be what makes your wish come true.
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Trust in a higher power—COMBINED WITH:
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—diligence to do what’s good.
The Blue Fairy (higher power) gave Geppetto his wish specifically because he had demonstrated commitment to do good, whether he got what he wanted or not. The Fairy Godmother (higher power) gave Cinderella her wish specifically because she kept on being kind and good to low creatures like mice and wicked stepsisters, whether she got what she wanted or not.
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Do you know why that combo (higher power + diligence to do good) is impactful? Timeless? Important?
Because it’s selfless. You want something, but you’re not going to sacrifice doing the right thing to get it. You’re not going to focus so hard on making what you want a reality, on your own, that you miss out on things that could be more important than what you want. And, you’re not so self-focused as to believe that if you don’t do it, it won’t get done.
Jeez, that’s the whole point of The Princess and the Frog!
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Tiana wishes to have her own restaurant, and she believes that only her own hard work will grant that wish. She misunderstands her dad’s advice before he dies. She isn’t willing to trust a higher power combined with her own diligence to do good—she only trusts her own ability.
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It’s not until she realizes that Ray, the character of faith, was right all along that she learns—what she wished for was too self-focused. It wasn’t complete without love. Something bigger than herself. And getting that was never going to happen just based on her own hard work.
But you know what? It was never going to happen just by a “higher-power” flavored shortcut, either. Because Facilier offers her her wish if she’ll just trust him, no hard work needed. But what does she say?
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Trust in a higher power + diligence to do what’s right = selflessness, and getting more than you could have ever wished for. And if your wish is selfish, doing those two things will change your wish into something selfless.
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More examples? Get ‘em while they’re hot, in case Wish made you forget, just like the current #NotMyDisney executives have forgotten, what real Disney wishes are for.
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Belle wishes to have adventures in the great wide somewhere--but when she's imprisoned and that chance is taken from her it's not reversed because she worked hard to make her wish come true. It's granted because she gave up her wish for her father: she just did the right thing, regardless of her wish. And in the end, she does get what she wished for, which is adventure in an enchanted castle...and much more, because she gets true love, a throne, and a castle full of friends.
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How about the One Who Started It All? The one Wish is failing to pay genuine tribute to?
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Snow White wishes for someone to love her, and he does--but when they're separated, she does not exercise power to make The Prince come back to her. Instead, she loves who she can where she’s at—the Dwarfs. In the meantime, she has faith that he will keep his promise, and that pure trust in a higher power outside of her control is a big contributing factor to why the Dwarfs come to love her, and learn from her...and in the end, even more than she could've wished happens. He does take her to his castle, but she also has seven new friends who also love her, and the Queen is dead. And she didn’t need to use “the power in her” to work harder and get it done. She just needed to not focus so much on herself at all.
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How about a male main character? One who’s wish starts out selfish, but after learning to wish on a higher power and be diligent to do the right thing, gets more than he could wish for?
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Aladdin wishes to be somebody different (somebody he believes Jasmine could love, somebody who lives in a palace and is respected and “never has any troubles at all.”)—but doing everything in his own power for that wish proves that it was selfish all along; so he switches to doing the right thing, regardless of if his wish comes true, and he gets even more than he could’ve wished. He gets real love with Jasmine, he gets his friend Genie, and he gets to be free from feeling “trapped” because he doesn’t have to hide who he is anymore.
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Or Simba?
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Simba wishes to get to do whatever he wants as King—but when Mufasa dies and he’s convinced it’s his fault, it isn’t for that wish that he goes back to Pride Rock to confront his past and his Uncle. It’s because he had an encounter with a higher power—his father—that helped him to realize his wish was selfish all along. He gives up the selfish wish, and he goes back to take his place as king, not so he can do whatever he wants, but so that he can take self-sacrificial responsibility that comes with ruling. And because he just does the right thing, finally, he gets more than what he wished for.
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How about something more recent? Zootopia.
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Judy wishes to make the world a better place by proving she can be what she wants to be and catching bad guys—but when she tries to make her wish happen on her own, in her own abilities, she fails and is forced to realize that she should’ve been looking for help by understanding “bad guys,” like Nick. It’s only after she humbled herself, admits she’s wrong, and changes her wish from “proving I can be what I want and catching bad guys” to “proving that understanding each other makes the world a better place” (much less self-focused) that her wish comes true—and so much more. She does make the world a better place, and she does get to catch bad guys, but she also gets to befriend one who was a good guy all along, and become all-around more effective at her dream job.
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This is how Disney always has been. Because it’s at the heart of good storytelling, and even life (not to get too dramatic.)
The power is not in you. Because it’s not about you. Self-sacrifice, faith, and doing the next right thing regardless of if you get your heart’s fondest desire is what makes more than just your wishes come true. And there has to be belief in a higher power to make that message powerful.
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But Wish?
Not only is it bad at showing instead of telling. Not only is it lazy and soulless.
But it’s characters rip the Star out of the sky and say “don’t wish on this. Wish on yourself, to get what you wish for. You don’t need a higher power. You don’t even need to sacrifice to do what’s good—whatever you do is good, because you are the one doing it.”
That is wrong. That is not true, and it is not powerful. There’s no sacrifice in focusing on or placing your trust totally in yourself, and it undoes every good thing Disney has done up until now.
And it undoes it on the 100th anniversary, and it flaunts Easter eggs of the very things it’s undoing.
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boxingcleverrr · 6 months
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Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.
Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.
But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.
The Abduction is The Thing.
Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.
Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.
It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.
I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!
It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.
"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.
And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.
They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.
Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.
That's how it went.
I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:
This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!
Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.
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redr0sewrites · 5 months
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No Nut November Hcs With The Hashiras
the title says it all!! (i didnt include muichiro for obvious reasons)
🥀Cw: smut, dirty talk, praise, degradation, breeding kink (rengoku + sanemi), squirting (mitsuri)
🥀minors dni
🥀Pairing(s): Hashiras(minus muichiro) x reader (seperate)
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Giyuu
when you first suggested the idea of NNN to giyuu, he was kinda confused
why would you participate in a competition not to have sex? did you just not want to have sex with him?
after some gentle reassurance and explanation however, he agrees surprisingly quickly
not only is giyuu ridiculously patient, he also has incredible self restraint
he would make it to the end of the month, but i definitely think he would have "almost" moments
when the month is over, hes begging you to fuck him
claims that hes waited so long, why should he have to do any work?
the minute it's december first hes waking you up, mewling and grinding on your thigh half-delirious as hes whining in your ear, begging you to take control
teasing him throughout the month will only make him more determined to last longer, if only to inflict the same suffering onto you
giyuu is very, very sensitive and you can use that to your advantage in a variety of ways
he gets really blushy when you tease him, and its only amplified during NNN considering he can't even get himself off
he also has a tough time ignoring it when he gets horny, he just feels like the type to be soooo sensitive and it's torture when he can't even jack off to relieve the painful ache in his pants
Giyuu pinned you down, his chest flush with your back as his cock rubbed against your hole. He was a panting mess, shaking above you as he pushed inside slowly. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, forcing you to look over your shoulder as he began to thrust into you steadily. Soft moans and whimpers filled the room, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping again skin. You could feel your orgasm building as a coil tightened in your stomach, and Giyuu let out a soft groan, signaling he was close as well. You clenched around him tightly, your release ripping through you as you clawed at the sheets. Above you, Giyuu tossed his head back and whispered your name like a prayer before cumming as well, filling your hole with his dripping seed. "Giyuu- ungh- wha-" you gasped, drool spilling from your lips as he sped up the pace. You had no time to catch your breath, and your hips jerked from overstimulation. "baby, i've waited a month, please?" Giyuu whispered in your ear, eyes blown wide with lust. You knew that you probably weren't going to be getting up anytime soon.
Tengen
im sorry but he is not making the month
he'd last two weeks at best
you and his wives would probably all team up against him, and this man is unable to restrain himself when it comes to you
quickest way to get tengen to fold? lingerie
just the sight of you in some flashy, lacy undergarments has him practically dragging you to bed
teasing him while wearing lingerie? hes gone.
"fuck the stupid month," he'd grumble, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your ass for good measure
tengen would be rougher than usual, hes pissed at you for teasing him after all
"hey!" you gasped, squirming in Tengens grip as he practically dragged you inside of the house. You and the other wives had been been training outside when all of a sudden Tengen had snatched you up, throwing you over his shoulder as the other wives followed behind you. Your husband ignored your indignated cries as he brought you to the bedroom and tossed you unceremoniously onto the mattress. Maki, Suma, and Hinatsuru joined you on the mattress, and you turned to look over your shoulder at Tengen. "giving up already?" you giggle, crawling over to the other wives at the head of the bed. Tengen Tengen smirked and slid up to you, pulling your undergarments off in seconds as your head rested in Hinatsuru's lap. Maki and Suma began to grind against eachother to your left as Tengen's breath fanned over your bare skin and thighs while Hinatsuru ran her fingers through your hair. The five of you were in for a long, long night~
Shinobu
Shinobu is definitely making it, no questions asked
she's patient enough to wait the month, however she will be pissed when you deny her
would totally try to get back at you, Shinobu would wear lingerie under her uniform and flash you when nobody was looking
she would run her hands up and down your thighs during hashira meetings, fingers ghosting so close to where you want her but not quite
she would enter a room and sit on your lap, kissing you senseless until your grinding up against her and then walk away like nothing happened
she's teasing YOU
i don't think theres any way to get her to give in, but at 12:01 on December 1st your waking up to her head between your legs
she would make you work for every orgasm, edging you until your sobbing
"you made me wait for so long, shouldn't i make you wait a little too?"
Shinobu smirked, gently swiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. She placed a finger on your tongue so you could taste the salty drops, and you let out another needy sob. "Are you getting desperate already, little butterfly?" She cooed, thrusting her fingers deeper inside of you. Another mewl escaped your lips as she fucked you dumb on her fingers, stretching you open and prodding the place inside you that made you see stars. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, and you whimpered. "Pl-please Nobu, 'm gonna cum, please lemme cum-mgh-" Shinobu smirked at you, smacking your core lightly as you squirmed beneath her. She leaned down to whisper in your ear, caressing your sides slowly. "Shh, c'mon doll, I know you can take it. You made me wait a month to ruin you, didn't you? You can handle waiting a little longer to come~" Your body quaked at her words, soft sobs and pleads filling the air as you begged her to let you cum this time. Shinobu only shook her head, smirking and removing her hand as your orgasm begins to fade.
i went off there for a sec omg
Rengoku
i think he would make it without too much trouble
i really don't think his sex drive is super high, and hes pretty patient as it is
so yea i def think he'd make it
unleeeesssss you teased him
listen, Rengoku LOOOOVES to please you
if you bat your lashes and play your cards right, he'll fold you in half and fuck you senseless less than a week into november
it would be the roughest, sloppiest sex yall ever have bc once Rengoku is done, hes done
He'll fuck you every day of the damn month just because he wants to, and be prepared bc this man has STAMINA
normally rengoku focuses solely on your pleasure, hes def the service dom type, hoowwweeeeverr, depending on how much you teased him, hes gonna be sm rougher
i also think rengoku would last the entire month just to irritate you because, lets face it, hes much more patient than you
just imagine begging him to fuck you at the end of the month, pleading with him to pay attention to you after he's deprived you of pleasure for so long... how could he say no to you?
the sound of skin slapping against skin and muffled groans filled the room as Rengoku pressed you down into the mattress. Rengoku leaned down, close enough to whisper in your ear, "fuck baby, can i- can i lift your legs up higher?" you nod, head foggy as he tossed your legs over his shoulder. Rengoku adjusted for a second, folding you over and beginning to thrust slowly. Your hips rocked against his as you clawed at the mattress, the new position allowing him to go so much deeper than before. "mhm baby, just like that. gonna make you feel so good after you waited so long, gonna fill you up so nice.."
Mitsuri
i think Mitsuri would last ab a week before crumbling
She'd be so embarrassed about it, all blushy and shy
you haaave to tease her ab quitting so early, you'll get the most delectable whimpers from her<3
Mitsuri folds from MINIMAL teasing its almost like she wants to lose
once she gives in tho, please pamper her. teasing is okay but PRAISE HER‼️
shes a pillow princess at heart and will def want u to take care of her after u made her wait for sooo long
MITSURI IS SO SENSITIVE, AND ITS DEFINITELY AMPLIFIED AFTER SHE HELD BACK FOR SO LONG
she cries sm more easily during sex after being teased for so long, and it's impossible to NOT overstimulate her (she loves it)
tease her and praise her, overstimulate her and watch as she falls apart~
fat tears streamed down Mitsuri's pink cheeks as you pumped your fingers in and out of her slick heat, mesmerized by the sloppy sound it made. her legs trembled and her lip quivered as she sobbed from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, and you leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. "d'worry baby, im gonna make you feel all better," you coo, smiling as she whimpers. your fingers are coated in her slick, and her hips grind down onto your fingers with every thrust. "need you.." she whispers, reaching out to pull you closer. "kiss..?" she whimpers, large, teary eyes staring into yours. You chuckle, unable to deny her. "Of course~ how could i forget?" you kiss her slowly and sensually, running your tongue along her bottom lip and gently grabbing her jaw as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth. Mitsuri whined at the feeling, clenching ariund your fingers as her tongue collided against yours. her chest heaved, perky breasts bobbing as the coil in her stomach tightened. you could tell she was close, and moved the hand holding her face to massage one of her breasts as you deepened the kiss. your fingers curled inside her, pressing against her g spot as your thumb circled her clit. instantly, Mitsuri squealed, gushing around you and squirting onto your hand as she writhed in pleasure. "t-too much!!" she gasped, pulling away from the kiss as a thin trail of spit lingered between your mouths. "was that worth the wait baby?" Mitsuri blushes, nodding profusely.
Obanai
i genuinely think obanai would last like
a week at most
im sorry but this man worships your every move, and theres NO way he can deny you anything
you tease him once and hes already bending you over, fucking you senseless as he bites harshly into your neck
or hes whining, dragging you on top of him and begging you to fuck him just right, ride him until hes a sweaty, needy mess
sex with Obanai after NNN would definitely be much rougher, he just cant hold himself back
he NEEDS to ravish you
you gasp as Obanai's cock sinks into you, his thick length filling you up as he spreads your legs. one hand rests on your inner thigh, the other entwining your hands together as he presses hasty kisses to your collarbone. your back arches off of the bed as he bites down hard on the sensitive skin, a dark hickey left in its wake. Obanai travels upwards, his teeth grazing your neck and shoulders as he kisses and nips at the exposed skin. his warm breathe flushes against your beck as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by your moans and whines. Obanai pants, his hand moving from your thigh to fondle at your chest. "can't believe you made me wait this long, bunny.." he murmured softly in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "fuck, i missed this pretty hole..."
Sanemi
he likes to think could make it the whole month but "doesn't care about a stupid ass challenge"
he cant make it the whole month hes too whipped for you
i think he would either last like. 15 minutes or two weeks theres no in between
Sanemi would either fuck you out of spite immediately after november starts or genuinely try but give up pretty early on and make up some bs excuse ab how he "doesnt even care"
either way, hes not making it 💀
prepare yourself, cuz the sex is gonna be ROUGH
Sanemi totally has a breeding kink, and the thought of NNN definitely ignites a feral need to fill you up- not a drop of his cum is wasted, hes bringing you to at LEAST 4 orgasms, and hes coming at least twice as well. hes also gonna finger fuck his cum back inside you, maybe he'll use a plug too just for the satisfaction of knowing that your filled up to the brim with him...
congrats!! u have a feral boyfriend
"s' too much!" you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as Sanemi fucked into you harshly from behind. his hips snapped against yours as you whimpered, face down in the sheets. Sanemi gave a swift slap to your ass and you sobbed, mewling as he fucked into your weeping hole even harder. "oh yea? shoulda thought of that before tellin' me about this stupid challenge," Sanemi hissed, thrusting deeper into your cervix as you keened. "im- m' close-" you hiccuped, warm, wet tears slid down your face as he looked into your glossy eyes. "oh yea? i thought it was t' much, doll- fuck-" he gasped as you tightened around him, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass was amplified even more as you came with a squeal. you came hard, coating Sanemi's cock and the bed below in your juices as your eyes rolled back into your head. "fuuugnck- doll your so tight- im coming too, don't waste a fucking drop of this- its what you get for makin' me wait.."
Gyomei
i think Gyomei would make it
honestly i dont think he has a super high sex drive, and as much as he wants to please you, i think he would make it through the month with ease
hell at the end of the month hes praising YOU for lasting so long eithout him (in a genuine way, not in a condescending way ofc <33)
hes pretty chill when it comes to sex, but after NNN Gyomei might be a little rougher
he has STAMINA tho
prepare to be overstimulated bc he is MAKING SURE you are blissed outt af by the end
if your not a whiny mess in subspace then Gyomei's not having it
hes praising you for lasting so long, making you feel so good while bringing you to climax after climax for HOURS
he miiiiight fold if u bEG him but its a small possibility.
Gyomei held you in his lap as you squirmed, fucking yourself on his cock as you buried your face into his neck. "mnghh- forget how big you were.." you whine, grinding your hips sensually against his. Gyomei chuckles, brushing the hair off of your forehead and kissing you gently. "do you remember how many times you've come, little one?" your brow furrowed, your head felt foggy as you tried to remember. one of his hands squeezed your thigh reassuringly, and you whimpered, eyes rolling back slightly as you tightened around his cock. Gyomei hummed, taking in your overstimulated state as he brought you closer to release. "im so proud of you little light, you lasted the entire month," he cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back as the coil in your stomach tightened. "let me reward you, my precious dove~"
RAHAHAHAHAHAHA ITS DONE ITS DONE ITS FINALLY DONE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HOLY FUCK HOLY SHIT ITS DONE KTS DONE ITS DONE I LOVE LIFE HALLELUJAH AJSHSAJHAJAAAJAA ITS JANUARYYYYY LMFAO
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wartornrequiem · 1 year
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did I really used to just sit here for hours ripping cds in iTunes bc god this is taking forever for just 3 songs
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talaok · 9 months
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Like a Virgin
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.
warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)
a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol
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Now this wasn't like him.
He hadn't done this in a long time.
The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.
But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-
And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?
Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.
You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.
He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.
God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.
And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.
"Joel please"
Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.
Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.
"need something?"
He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.
"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"
fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.
He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:
"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.
"want me to stop?"
For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips  
"Definitely not"
You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze
He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.
"Good christ"
that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.
"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.
"Joel please-"
"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.
He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.
The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.
"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this
"god you're so deep"
Yeah, you definitely knew
"and so big-" you cried
He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.
"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.
"just like that Joel- oh-" 
And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.
"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.
And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore
"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.
"why?" 
"nothing it's just-"
And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.
Goddamnit.
"you just feel too good Joel" 
"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"
"what is it?"
"Jesus Christ I-"
"is there something wrong?"
"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"
And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.
"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.
"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together
"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.
"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"
You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.
"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"
You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.
"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"
"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head
"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"
He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs
"that I can do"
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ugh-yoongi · 4 months
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hang up if u want to | kmg
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he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.
pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.
Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)
Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.
You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.
All part of the script.
Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up
Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.
We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.
A royal flush, every single time.
And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.
Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby
You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.
On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.
In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.
In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.
Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.
That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.
The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.
But he’ll never, ever beg.
(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)
Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.
Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.
You: did you like it?
Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.
i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—
Kim Mingyu: or i could show you
It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.
At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.
All you can do is stare.
Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.
Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.
You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?
On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.
Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.
Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄
This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.
You send it.
You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit
Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.
Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.
Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first
Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.
Your phone chimes, and when you look down—
Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.
All the sounds he makes.
Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted
Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.
You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.
You send it.
You: depends... is this what you wanted?
The response is immediate:
Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.
You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.
So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.
You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.
The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.
Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you
You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.
Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you
In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.
You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.
Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you
You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.
You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more
Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck
Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.
You get a singular character in reply: 응.
show me.
He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.
Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie
On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.
You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.
“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.
“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”
If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.
“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”
You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.
Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.
Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.
You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”
You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.
“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”
Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.
Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please
It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.
Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.
A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?
Or does he just see you?
It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.
You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.
Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.
Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum
I think about that all the time.
So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.
You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.
You: you can come, but you know the rule
You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.
thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.
The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.
You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.
Because you know what comes next:
Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you
And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.
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if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.
i would love to hear your thoughts! <3
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"If You Want My Husband, You're Gonna Have to F#cking Kill Me."
So, Dead on Main is the best, right?
So, Jason and Danny are secretly married. It's was an accident; somehow, those two managed to do a ghost courting ritual and acceptance without realizing it--Danny's a halfa, Jason is a remnant, neither one was informed that ghost marriage was thing. The two go on an adventure in the Ghost Zone to disolve the marriage, but over the course of the journey, surprise! The two develop feelings and decide that they prefer being married. Maybe it gives them a power up, lets them know how the other is doing/feeling? It's nice, to have someone who's always there for you, that's all their saying.
Obviously, they don't tell anyone. Or at least, no one knows they're still married.
fortunately, it comes in handy. Red Hood, Red Robin, and Stabby Robin got captured by a pissed Black Mask or maybe the League of Assassins... I'll go League, bc less guns. Jason's injured, about to be killed, when Danny bursts through the door, says the title line, and starts ripping through the goons.
he's so pissed, he doesn't even transform, he's using entirely his parents weapons and he's good with them. (no murder Danny, sorry. But he'll probably get covered in other people's blood thanks to the concussive effects of his parents weapons on humans.)
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kisakis-boyfriend · 6 months
Note
hiii, I wanted to request male reader receiving Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet (separately) as a Christmas present? they’re naked, wrapped up in red ribbon, and presenting themselves on reader’s bed to be absolutely ravished. Please and thank you for your time!
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Pairings: Lyney, Lynette, Freminet x reader (separately)
Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom characters, adult characters, light bondage, vibrator (Lyney), Lynette is called 'babygirl', slutty Freminet
Genre/Format: Smut; Scenarios
Author's Note: So erm, how can I get these cuties under my tree this year? 👉👈
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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The dull buzzing reached your ears as soon as the door flung open. Your eyes focused on the part of the room that the buzzing was coming from; the side where your bed is located
A small gasp escapes you when you finally land on the little present left for you this year. None other than Lyney himself; tied up tightly with red ribbon, and a bullet vibe stuffed into his hole, hence the buzzing you heard earlier–
“Well, well. What's this now? A shiny, new toy for the holidays?” You began, making your way over to the bed and brushing your fingers against Lyney's knee. “Goodness, what did I do to deserve such a beautiful present?”
“L-like what you s-see? Ghn–! ” Lyney grit his teeth as a particular pulse from the toy occupying his hole hit him. Hours of being tied down with this thing endlessly massaging his guts had turned him into some oversensitive mess; reduced to a sweaty, flushed, orgasm-hungry man
The smirk on your lips made Lyney's hole twitch, aching for your touch already. “Oh, I like it alright. And just how did you get yourself into this configuration, darling?”
“A-a magician n-never reveals his s-s-secrets...Aaahh—!! ” Wanton moans fell from Lyney's lips easily. Bucking against nothing as his hard cock leaked onto his stomach, creating a pool of precum soaking into his happy trail
Curiously, you ghosted your fingers over his length, smirking at the gasps that it caused. Your fingers dipped inside of Lyney's cute hole and pressed the little vibe right up against his prostate, an action that had his small body writhing around in pleasure (and overstimulation)
Soon after that, he came. Intense enough to knock the wind right out of his lungs, Lyney moaned loudly as you ripped orgasm after orgasm from him — fingering his little hole, slapping his cock, stroking him in time with your thrusts. All without ever removing the vibe buried in his ass
-
“Mmm...mmph—!! Haa-aah—!! ” Muffled moans drew your attention to the closed door of your bedroom. Something — or rather, someone, was making a whole lot of noise inside...
Upon opening the door, your eyes were greeted with the intriguing and beautiful sight of Lynette; tied with a silky red ribbon that accentuated her curves nicely, ass up on the sheets and face buried in them
“Damn, Christmas isn't for another week, babe. What's all of this for?” You teased, strolling closer as the feline woman shivered. Placing a hand on the plump flesh of her ass has her arching into your touch, turning her head to face you with drool-stained lips and messy bangs
“M-merry Christmas, y-y/n~” Lynette breathed. “Do you– do you like y-your gift?”
How could you not? Your darling was kind enough to wrap herself in pretty ribbons and wait archons know how long for you to come home; presenting herself all for you. You could tell that she was excited too, in between Lynette's legs awaited a drooling, quivering pussy. Wet and ready for whatever you wanted to push inside
“Oh baby, it's the best present anyone's ever given to me. You're so thoughtful~” You said, swiftly plunging two fingers inside of her cunt, your dick twitched in your pants when you felt her insides. “Fuck...”
You wasted no time pulling out your cock and lubing it up with Lynette's juices, teasing the poor thing in the process. She involuntarily clenched around nothing; choking on a moan as you slapped her clit with your dick. When you finally pushed inside, she came immediately
Wet juices dripped down Lynette's thighs, falling onto the bedsheets in an obscene display. “Fuck– That was hot, babygirl. You must've been so desperate for so long, huh?”
The catgirl could only muster a whine as you began to thrust in and out, holding onto her hips and fucking her trembling body on your length. If she continues to squeeze your cock like this it will definitely be a white Christmas...
-
This was quite the surprise— Before you, laid bare except for the shiny red ribbon clinging to his body, was Freminet. Bound and gagged by that same ribbon, whimpering when your eyes met
“Shit. I don't even– Don't even know what to say.” Taking in the full picture in front of you had your dick growing harder and harder. Freminet's hole was wet and pulsating; his small cock hung over his stomach, stiff and dribbling onto the skin. Looks like he's just as desperate to be ravaged as you were to ravage him
You approached Freminet and stroked down his chest, admiring his beautiful skin. He was so flushed by this point, with red cheeks and shoulders, his little cock was red too. A sight that you so adored whenever you had the chance to see it
“Can I take this out? I wanna hear your pretty voice while I mess you up~” The blond nodded, allowing you to remove the gag
“Fuck me, y-y/n—!! Ple-ease...?” Oh, this was too cute. Freminet begging was such a weak point of yours. Without thinking, you freed your cock from its constraints and lined it up with your darling's pretty hole, pushing past that tight entrance and immediately feeling the warmth of his walls surround your dick
“Oooohh fuck yeah—!! Fuck...hhng–! ” You gasped, bottoming out right away as Freminet's walls sucked you in. Already about to cum just from this. The trembling boy beneath you was cockdrunk; his eyes had crossed and his lips parted in a pornographic display
“H-har-der...h-harder, please!! Oh fuck...” Freminet managed, consumed by the need to be your precious cumdump
“Yeah? You're spoiling me, baby boy. Fuck—!! ” Your thrusts sped up, now pounding into Freminet's tight ass with growing lust. You need to cum so badly, need to fill him up— and as long as Freminet moans the way he is now, you'll fill him up nice and full
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sadhours · 1 year
Text
READING FOR PLEASURE
billy hargrove x f!reader
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a/n: this was inspired by @billyhargrovetitties story Cruel Summer, if you haven’t read it… you must. I am obsessed with it.
summary: billy finds your romance novel and teases you about it
warnings; 18+ minors dni, pure smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, billy doesn’t pull out and he panics, oops 🙊
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When you return to your bedroom, Billy’s laid out on the bed, on his stomach and propping his head up with his elbow. It’s a cute sight, makes your stomach flip and fill with butterflies as a dirty blonde curl falls in the center of his forehead. You smile warmly and then glance down to see he’s got the romance novel you’d hidden in your bedside table spread out before him and he’s reading it with this all too satisfied grin on his face. When he gazes towards you, the grin meets his eyes, crinkling them up.
“Found your porn stash,” he teases, closing the cover but keeping his fingers tucked into the page he was on. “A Gentle Feuding,” he reads the title out loud with this exaggerated wistfulness to his voice and you know your face is all kinds of shades of crimson. You hope Billy hadn’t noticed the man portrayed on the cover somewhat resembles him, blonde and tan, and that’s why you’d picked the novel in the first place.
“It’s historical,” you lamely reason, lunging forward to grab the book from him but Billy’s reflexes are as quick as a cats. He pulls it out of your fingertips and you attempt to snatch it again, but he pulls it back and you go toppling over him. Billy uses the leverage to flip the both of you over and he’s straddling your waist, holding the book over his head when you reach towards it.
“Historical filth,” he counters, cheeks a little flush from the shuffle of your bodies but that grin permanently smeared on his face.
“Billy,” you whine, “Give it here. It’s embarrassing…”
As you raise your hands to grab it again, Billy grabs your wrists with his right hand and holds them down against your chest. Your whole body feels tight with humiliation and you choke back the tears forming in your eyes. God, you could be such a baby sometimes.
That’s why Billy liked you, though. You acted like such a good girl all the time, he was relieved to find the raunchy book because it let him know that deep down, you were a little vixen and his attempts to draw it out of you had been mostly failures. You two had already slept together, just one time and whenever it came to fooling around, you were so shy.
“This thing is worn,” he comments, looking over the novel in his hand, “How many times have you read it?”
“None of your beeswax,” you huff, “Give it here, Billy. Seriously!”
As you plead, you squirm under his grip, trying to get your arms free so you can rip the book from his hand and maybe destroy it. You haven’t decided, you’re so incredibly embarrassed but it is one of your favorites.
Billy tilts his head ever so slightly, “Should I read some of it to you?”
“No!” you shriek, eyes widening up at him but a part of you is very intrigued. Billy’s voice is like honey, the timbre of it is deliciously low like it comes deep from his throat. You’re suddenly very interested in hearing him read it out loud but you’re still full of shame that he’s found the book. Your hiding place wasn’t very good but enough that your parents or siblings hadn’t found it. Of course, Billy is far snoopier than they are and you should’ve anticipated that when you went to pee, he would be going through your things.
Billy places the book down and moves your wrists to your sides, adjusting his legs so he can pin your arms underneath them. He smiles at you, retrieving the book again and flipping to the first page he’s dog-eared.
“Ya know, there’s a lot of like, bullshit in this book,” he muses, “They don’t even fuck until like almost the end of the book. And then after that it’s like more blah blah blah—“
“It’s called plot,” you argue, voice shakier than you meant for.
The blonde snorts, peering down at you, “I can get you some magazines, ya know? You don’t have to do any reading to get to the good part.”
“I don’t read it for the…” you can’t bring yourself to say the word.
“The filth? Really?” he hums, “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” you lie, wriggling beneath him.
Billy licks his lips, “Let’s see… oh, here’s where it starts getting good; ‘His hand goes somewhere unexpected. Lydia’s eyes widen as the duke’s warm, strong hand smoothes up her milky, white thighs.’.”
“Billy,” you warn, eyebrows knitting closer. It’s as sexy as you imagined but you didn’t entirely anticipate Billy would be so good at reading aloud, it’s almost like he’s practiced with it. He doesn’t stumble over any of the words like you do when you have to read aloud in class.
“Shh,” he shushes you around a smug smirk, “‘Her liquid desire seeps out as he ruffles her petticoat up to her waistline,’ Liquid desire. I like that. Clever way to say she’s wet.”
“Stop!” you protest but the words are purging your own ‘liquid desire’ and you’d rather Billy not have the satisfaction.
“Spicy stuff here. But then the dude only fingers her,” Billy complains with a disappointed frown and flips to the second page he’s dog-eared. “Ah, here we go, I really love this line: ‘Lydia writhes against Arthur but her body freezes as she feels his hardened cock pressed against her stomach.’” He lets out a short laugh, “They actually wrote cock. That’s hilarious.”
You raise an eyebrow, “What word would you use?”
“Cock, definitely, but it’s not a classy word. I thought they’d say like penis or something,” he retorts, biting his lip as he looks to your flushed face.
“Penis isn’t a sexy word,” you argue and feel yourself squirm against him, not because you want him to stop but you want to keep him under the impression you do.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Billy agrees and then asks, “Cock turns you on, though?”
Billy’s sorely mistaken if he thinks you’ll admit to that, no matter how true it is. You shoot him an annoyed look and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He always does that so loud, you’re left impressed each time. You’d tried to do it as loud as he does on nights when you’re bored and alone but it’s never quite as good.
“Lemme see…” his eyes scan the worn pages, “Ooh, this I like: ‘She gyrated the softest part of her against the hardest of him.’”
You also liked that line, it made you think of Billy every time you read it.
“Also, do these chicks ever write about small dicks? They’ve mentioned how huge this duke is like twelve times,” he wonders aloud, lifting the book so he can look down at you.
“Sympathetic?” you bite back, wanting to tease Billy for how he’s teasing you.
“Oh, honey,” he chuckles, “you and I both know damn well I ain’t small.”
“Then they’re representing you,” you point out with a wavering smile.
Billy tsks, and then lets out a giggle, thumbing through the pages again. As he finds a particularly dirty passage and begins reading it, you can see his pants tightening over his crotch. You raise an eyebrow, flicking your eyes back up to his face but Billy is too distracted by the words he’s reading to notice.
“Well, well, well,” you say in a teasing tone.
He averts his eyes, seeing that his hard-on is pretty damn obvious in his jeans and you’ve got the perfect view of it. He actually blushes, the reddening hiding his freckles and he closes the book, tossing it behind him as he gazes down at you with his nose scrunched up.
“What?”
“You seem to like it, Billy,” you purr, not trying to suppress the giggle rising from your throat.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, scooting back and releasing your arms. They’ve kind of gone numb from the position under his legs but you don’t mind, you enjoyed every second of it. “If I reach in your pants, you’re gonna be just as obnoxiously turned on.”
“I’m the one who owns the book, Billy,” you challenge with a pleased smirk.
“So you admit it then, you read it for the filth,” he quips.
“I’ll admit that if you admit it gave you a boner.”
“I think that’s pretty obvious,” he mumbles, positioning himself between your legs and hooking his fingers into the elastic band of your sweats. He pulls them down and you lift your legs to help expel them. Billy tosses them to the floor and spreads your thighs, biting his lip as he brushes his knuckles against your clothed heat. A raspy moan is ripped from you, back arching as his knuckle brushes against your aching clit.
“Oh, Billy…”
“I can just see that ‘liquid desire’ soaking through your panties,” he muses, voice rough but the term brings a laugh from the both of you. It also makes you that much wetter.
“Oh my god,” you mutter through the laugh, “You’re never gonna let that go.”
Billy hums, pushing his nose against where his knuckles just were, “Don’t think you really want me to.” His breath tickles the skin where your thigh meets your pelvis and you inhale sharply. Your thighs tingle, heat rising up them and it’s almost overwhelming. Then you feel Billy’s stubble against the flesh of your thigh and his teeth follow, biting at your skin lightly. Your body jolts at the touch and your thighs open even wider, urging Billy to return his movements to where you want him most. His lips curl up as he rests his cheek against your inner thigh, eyes peering up at you. His pupils are so dilated, you can barely see the ocean blue around them.
“I want you,” he admits, smoothing his palm over your core and resting his fingertips against your pubic bone.
The admission draws a deep moan from you because he looks so adorable between your legs but the palm on you and the words make you desire him so deeply it almost hurts. Billy wants you. The idea itself makes your thighs tremble and your hands shoot down to rake your fingers through his dirty blonde curls.
“You have me,” you breathe but wonder how you look at his perspective and it forces you to prop yourself up on your elbows, wanting to look as pretty for him as possible.
“Can I have you?” he asks, pushing his palm harder against your center.
“Yes, Billy,” you pant out.
He sits back up, peeling your underwear off of you and then settling back down between your legs. He kisses tenderly at your thighs, brushing the tip of his finger against your dripping hole. The noise that pushes from your lips is desperate yet a thankful noise, you’ve been wanting Billy to touch you like this since he straddled you earlier. He makes a surprised but happy sound in return, swiping his tongue against your labia experimentally. The warm, wetness of it is welcomed while it’s not distinctly pleasurable, it feels really nice. His single digit penetrates you slowly while he continues to lick your pussy lips. It’s excruciating, but you know he’s doing it with purpose. The first time Billy had touched you intimately, he done the same. Teasing you with touches that were close to where you wanted but not quite there. You’d come to learn that Billy wanted you to plead and beg for him. Which you weren’t exactly confident doing yet. You still felt reserved and a little shame in asking for what you wanted. That’s presumably what got your boyfriend off: pushing you out of your comfort zone and breaking down those societal expectations.
“Billy,” you whine out, tugging at his curls.
“What?” he asks like he knows exactly what you want, a smile present in his voice.
You flush, you weren’t going to get the relief unless you explicitly requested it. You knew this and it makes your throat tighten and your mouth feel dry, tongue heavy in your mouth. You chew on your lower lip as you muster up the courage to put your desire into words.
“Not enough,” you whisper, timidly, “I want more.”
“More?” he pouts up at you, “Tell me what more means.”
“Lick…” you flush, closing your eyes as you try to gain the confidence.
“Lick what?”
“My pussy,” you breathe out, pulling his hair gently.
“I am,” he smirks, “You want me to lick here?” He presses the tip of his tongue to your clit and your head falls back against the mattress,
“Yes!”
He hums and then flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud, the fingers of his left hand digging into your thigh. It’s warm and oh so wonderful as he puts his mouth entirely on you, licking through your folds before focusing on your clit and lapping against it, nose brushing against the curls above your center. You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. The two of you are completely alone for at least another few hours but you’re accustomed to keeping quiet, trying to keep your pants and moans of pleasure at a reasonable volume. Billy’s tongue proves to make it difficult. It’s just as fit as the rest of his body.
“Lemme,” he grunts as he pulls away, pushing your top up your chest and he exhales when your chest is exposed. You’d intentionally skipped putting your bra on today, knowing Billy was coming over. He palms at your breasts, squeezing gently as he moves up to suck hour nipple into his mouth. It feels amazing, not nearly as great as his mouth on your pussy but this is a little more intimate. You can see him better up here, how pink and plump his lips are and the way his eyelashes curl. Billy is single handedly the most attractive person you’ve laid eyes on and here he is, mouthing at your chest.
“Baby…” you whimper as he adds a second finger inside of you.
It’s all a little overwhelming but feels too damn good to stop. You’re in too deep, you’d follow Billy like a lamb to slaughter. As his fingers curl up and drag against your spongy spot, you cry out. You don’t know how much more you can take, suddenly desperate to feel his cock filling you up and stretching you out in the most beautiful way. It’ll be your second time of what you hope to be a life full of.
“Want—“ you gasp, grabbing onto his sleeve. “Want you so bad, Billy.”
He smirks up at you before sitting back on his heels. He pulls his Henley over his head and placing it next to your body. You reach out and feel the contours of his muscular pecs, brushing the pads of your fingertips against his stiff nipple. He’s like one of those Greek statues, sculpted beautifully but unlike the marble, his skin is so soft. He bites the side of his lower lip as he smiles, his eyes squinting with the expression. He’s so damn beautiful, your heart swells.
“You’re…” the compliment dies on your tongue as you suddenly feel demure.
“I’m what?” he breathes, anticipation present in his drawl.
“Everything,” you admit, bashfully.
You think you see him blush, you can’t be sure because Billy’s leaning down to kiss you. It’s a dizzying kiss, you rock your hips up with it as he pulls desire out of you. You meant it, he’s everything to you, everything for you. He’s it for you and if he’s not, there’s gonna be a helluva heartbreak. No one has been so easy to be around. Billy’s like your best friend, he makes you laugh and cry and cum. What the hell else do you ever need besides this man above you?
“Fuck,” he curses, hand on your shoulder as he pulls away, “My dicks so fucking hard it hurts.”
The complaint is nothing but a masked compliment. You widen your legs, moving your hands down to his hips so you can grind up against his clothed erection. “Need you,” you inform him breathlessly.
“You have me,” he smirks, smoothing his thumb against your cheekbone. “Can I fuck you?”
You know he asks because it’s only the second time it’s happening, or could be. You decided long ago that you wanted it, but he doesn’t know that.
“Need you to,” you counter, the walls breaking down slowly. Billy is good at urging the desperation out of you. You're sure he could persuade you into murder, or something nearly as awful.
Billy grunts, pulling away long enough to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. His cock sprouts up and slaps against his abs, angrily hard and you notice his tip is leaking more than you’ve seen before. Your mouth waters at the sight but you’re too eager to blow him. You’re clenching simply at the sight and promise of him burying his cock inside your fluttering cunt. Billy crashes his lips against yours, the shaft of his cock rubs against your soaking pussy and it draws a mutual groan from the two of you. Perhaps you can write a letter to the author of the novel, express your gratitude for it being the source of this very charged moment between you and your stunning boyfriend. You even consider writing your own spicy story about him, he’s damn good inspiration. If you ever write a memoir, you hope and pray that Billy is a lasting role in it.
“Billy,” you plead against his bruising lips.
He grabs your jaw with his left hand while he grabs a hold of his cock with his right, hissing as he runs his tip through your folds. Your body shakes under his touch, hips rocking up ruthlessly from the electricity his movements bring. The romance you read is exciting but can’t compare to his in any way. You’d much rather have him in your bed every night instead of reading until you can’t handle it and hump against your pillow in search of relief. This is tenfold better.
“That feel good?” he inquires, voice hoarse. “You’re so fucking wet.”
He says the last bit like he can’t believe it and you reel from it, reveling in the fact that you can turn Billy on just by reacting to him naturally. The carnal desire in you evaporates every wall you’ve ever built up. There’s no shame left in you as you tell him, “S’all cause of you…”
“Yeah? Am I better than the book?” he asks, circling his tip against the rim of your aching entrance.
“Picture you when I’m reading it,” you pant out the confession, eyes falling shut as his hips jerk forward from your words, his tip penetrating you in an easy, fluid motion.
“Touch yourself at the thought of me?” his voice is so hoarse and the sound of it has you clenching around him. He obviously notices it but the whine that pushes passed his lips.
“Always…”
“Fuck,” he exhales, slipping deeper inside your tight cunt. His girth is a shock, but a good one. It’s only the second time. Your fingers and also his, don’t compare. But you’re thoroughly aroused and you swallow his length easily. The burn is dull and adds to the pleasure. He continues, “That’s so fucking hot.”
His face in contorted in concentration and arousal, “The thought of you fingering this tight pussy—“ he grunts, “Thinking about me fucking you.”
“This is better,” you moan, grabbing onto his bicep as he bottoms out, balls warm against your skin.
“I think about you too,” he says between clenched teeth, “When I jerk off…”
It makes your head feel heavy, you’re totally honored. The image of Billy in his bed, pulling at his cock while your name tumbles from his lips makes your hips rock forward repeatedly. He makes a whiny noise and your eyes open, wanting to see it happen again. He’s a goddamn vision, sweating above you with curls sticking to his forehead. Goddamn, he’s so intoxicatingly sexy. Sometimes you get this overwhelming urge to grab onto his face and you indulge in it now, hands pressed against his each side of his head while he pounds into you. His eyes are intense as he stares back at you, these delicious little grunts and moans leaving his lips. The room is spinning, Billy’s eyes are so consuming it feels like he’s devouring you. You’re entranced, bodies writhing against each other while you both chase a high only the other can guarantee.
“Billy—“ you choke out, “I’m.. I’m gonna…”
You can’t finish the thought as he drills into you, his hands grabbing your hips and angling them up so he drives against your g-spot with every thrust.
“Cum?” he offers, voice throaty and hoarse. “You gonna cum for me, babygirl?”
“Ahh…” you try to tell him yes but the waves of the orgasm make it impossible as it thrashes through you, your ankles crossing behind his back as he pounds into you.
The pistons of his hips are unrelenting, you’d be impressed with his stamina if you weren’t being dragged through the most demanding orgasm you’ve ever had. You’re loud, the sound of your voice is foreign, rough and guttural. Billy seems to like it, his eyebrows rising before furrowing as he pins your hips against the mattress and bucks into you brutally. His face is scrunched up and these high pitched, pretty and desperate noises he makes are so wonderfully delicious. His movements freeze and you feel his warm completion fill you up.
“Billy…” you moan at the sensation, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt and he collapses on top of you, a panting mess as his lips find yours. The kisses are frantic and sloppy. You’re not even certain they could classify as kisses. Then his eyes are wide and he’s lifting himself up.
“Fuck, oh shit,” his voice is full of panic, “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”
You’re close to passing out, but you manage to ask, “For what?”
“I came inside you,” he explains, eyes wide.
“Mhm… felt so good,” you mumble, not able to care about his terror in the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“I didn’t mean to… fuck,” he breathes against your cheek, “Gonna have to.. get a plan B.”
“Billy,” you sigh happily as you wrap your arms around him, “Mmm… feels so good.”
He relaxes at the realization that you’re not pissed at him and for a second, he lets himself revels in the fact that he’s just cum inside you and how amazing it felt. He gasps softly, “So good…”
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ravengards-rogue · 3 months
Text
WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.
rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.
ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.
✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+
✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)
✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover
sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.
sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 
It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 
Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 
Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 
He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 
So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 
You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 
(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )
When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 
 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 
So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 
In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 
He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 
Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 
Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 
Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 
(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)
Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 
Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 
He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 
Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 
“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 
“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 
“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 
You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.
“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 
You giggle back at him 
“What kinda trouble is that now?” 
Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 
“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 
“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 
Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;
John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 
Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 
Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 
On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 
John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 
Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.
 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 
So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 
Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 
You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 
(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 
You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 
You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 
Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 
You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 
But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.
 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 
Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 
But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 
There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 
You might turn him into a literate man yet. 
John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 
Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 
Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.
It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 
“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 
You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 
“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 
John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.
His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 
“John,”  
What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 
“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 
“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 
“A foolish one,” 
John laughs. 
“I sure do love you for it,”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;
Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 
It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 
Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.
(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 
His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 
Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 
It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 
He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 
And it didn’t matter until he met you
He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 
But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 
You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 
You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 
(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 
When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 
From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 
When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 
That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 
Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 
For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.
You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 
Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 
“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 
He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.
His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 
He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 
“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 
Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 
“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 
Wandering. 
He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 
There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 
There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 
He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 
The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 
Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 
Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.
 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 
The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 
It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 
It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 
But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 
He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 
For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 
Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 
You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 
“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 
He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 
“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 
“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 
You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 
“Please, what?” 
You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 
Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 
You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 
You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 
“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 
His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 
When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.
But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 
Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 
“Kiss?” 
Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”
Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
761 notes · View notes
gggukniverse · 1 month
Text
guys my age | myg (m)
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title: guys my age
pairing: yoongi x f!reader
genre: m , smut , mom's boyfriend au , age gap
summary: you and your mom have been living in her new boyfriend's house for a couple of weeks. it's a little hard adapting to living there but on a weekend your mom is out of town and you've invited a guy to the house for a quick and disappointing hookup, yoongi lets you know he's more than willing to help you out.
warnings: [just for the teaser] brief sexual encounter with another guy, bad sex, age gap, kind of dubious consent, yoongi kiiiiiiind of manipulates reader
wordcount: 1.5k (just the teaser)
drop date: not really sure but it will probably drop next month
note: hey :) this is my next fic !!! i'm super excited for this one. i'm still working on basic needs part 3 though, just be patient
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you still get lost in this house, you realize you do when you stop by the middle of one of the hallways in complete confusion because you don’t even know where the office is.
it’s normal to need time to adapt to a new place, you already knew that when you moved with your mom into her new boyfriend, but two weeks have passed since you moved to this house and you’ve lost even the way back to your room now.
it’s only when you hear the noise of a keyboard that you turn to the end of the hallway to the right and see light coming from a room with the door just a little open. that’s the office.
you walk down the hallway hesitantly and knock two times on the door, only opening it all the way when you hear that deep voice saying ‘come in’.
“hi,” you say quietly as you stand by the door. yoongi is working but he takes a break from all of the papers on his desk and his computer to look up at you and take his glasses off. “i- i’m sorry, am i bothering?”
“no, don’t worry,” he seems shakes his head and smiles sweetly at you. “is everything okay?”
“yeah, everything is okay... i just wanted to ask you something.” you bite your lower lip, already sensing the negative response coming.
“sure, what is it?” yoongi leans back on his chair and crosses his arms.
“my mom never lets me bring anyone home, so now that she’s not here for the weekend... i was wondering if you would let me bring someone in, since this is your house.” you let it out as fast as you can, like ripping off a bandage.
“you wanna bring someone over,” yoongi nods slowly to himself as if he’s processing what you just told him so you hum in affirmation. “a friend?” he tilts his head to the side a little, as if he’s testing you.
“uh, well...” you feel your cheeks burn and he seems to get it right away.
“your mom warned me as soon as she left that you would try to sneak someone in.” he says and that’s when you know you’re done.
“okay.” you say quietly, your shoulders dropping in disappointment.
but yoongi speaks again, “he can come over.”
you look up again with wide eyes and see that he has a smile on his face. “really?” you ask in disbelief. you really expected him to say no.
“sure, but don’t cause any trouble.” he warns and you nod immediately.
“thank you, yoongi oppa.” you bow before turning around again and walking out of the office.
it turns out not being that good of an idea to bring the boy you’ve been talking to for a few days over to this house.
“fuck yeah...” the boy hovering over you groans as he keeps fucking you at a way too rough pace for your liking, not hurting you but straight up not making you feel good. “does that feel good baby?” he mutters against your ear and you almost want to laugh but you just fake a moan before saying, “yeah.”
he obviously comes on your stomach and just starts getting dressed again, like sex is over as soon as he comes. he doesn’t even stay, just leaves you there alone feeling completely dirty and empty. and it’s not the first time you have a sex experience as bad as this one, in fact, all of your sexual encounters with guys always end like this.
you only get up from the bed when you decide that you have to at least clean his now drying cum from your stomach. you clean it with some wipes but you still feel dirty, so after putting on an old big shirt and some sweatshorts you walk out of your room and make your way to the closest bathroom with the intention of taking a quick shower.
but just as you turn to the next hallway you stomp against someone’s chest.
“woah, careful.” yoongi’s voice makes you step back and look up at him.
“sorry...” you mumble and quickly look down again in embarrassment because you probably still look a little fucked out.
“did your friend leave already?” yoongi asks, not showing any interest in wanting to walk away so you sigh and look up again, nodding in response. “are you okay?”
your heart starts racing with how he’s looking at you, like he’s analyzing every detail on your expression.
“yeah, yeah. i’m okay.” you nod anxiously and almost flinch when he reaches out to you with his hands, putting the back of it against your forehead.
“do you have a fever?” yoongi asks with a little frown, like he’s actually worried, but you catch the way his lips curl into a little smirk as soon as you’re about to panic.
he’s teasing you. of course he knew what you’ve been doing.
“please don’t tell my mom.” you say as he drops his hand from your forehead. he smiles.
“brat can’t go a day without having a cock inside,” he chuckles and your mouth opens for you to say something but you’re left completely speehless because never in a million years you would’ve expected him to speak like that to you. “don’t think i don’t notice when you sneak boys inside my house. you were nice for asking this time, though. didn’t expect you to.”
“i...” words don’t even leave your mouth, so shocked that he knows everything.
“was it worth it at least?” he lifts one of his eyebrows and tilts his head in a way that has your body feeling hot for some reason. “was he good to you?” he asks again.
“no.” you speak so quietly it’s barely a whisper.
“did you cum?”
“no,” you shake your head, not being able to tear your eyes away from him as if you’re under a spell. “i... never do. they always finish and leave.” you mutter with so much embarrasment that you wanna die, but the words come out much more easily than you would’ve expected.
“mh... i know.” the tone in his voice is so low.
you don’t even notice he’s walking closer to you until you can almost feel his breath hitting your face. after taking two steps back to get away from him, you hit the wall. he takes the last couple of steps to you until he has you cornered between the wall and his body.
“now tell me why i shouldn’t tell your mom, huh?” yoongi hums.
you look down, too embarrassed to look into his eyes now. “please, don’t tell her.” you mutter and a gasp escapes your throat when you feel a finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him again.
“say please one more time.” his entire aura is so intimidating that you feel your whole body shaking. he’s never been so close to you.
“please...” you look up at him with big eyes, those use to work.
yoongi exhales through his nose and your proximity to him lets you notice the way his jaw clenches.
“i won’t tell her,” he says and you sigh in relief, throwing your head back against the wall. “i’ll keep your secret if you keep ours.” you flinch when you feel fingertips running up your bare thigh.
“ours?”
he doesn’t reply but you don’t have a chance to ask him again because his lips are on yours.
a moan escapes your mouth and he follows with a grunt as one of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling you flat against his body. his other hand, the one he was touching your thigh with, goes up to your ass and squeezes it. you whine against his lips because his hand feels so big, so good.
your mind is so dizzy and your legs are starting to shake because it is a good fucking kiss and the way he’s holding you makes you feel amazing, but something inside your brain makes you snap back to reality. you’re kissing your mom’s boyfriend, a man who’s 22 years older than you.
you put your hands on his chest and push him back a little. “oppa...” you pant, trying to catch your breath, and look down to his chest to avoid his gaze.
“mh?” he brings the hand on your ass to your lower back, keeping you close to him.
“why did you do that?” you say and he only chuckles, so low.
“why did i do what?”
“kiss me... and- and touch me.” you explain with a shaky voice.
“mh?” yoongi hums again and leans down, stealing another kiss from your lips that makes you forget what you were talking about. “touch you?” he asks, so close to your lips.
he smiles when you try to chase his lips. “touch me.” you repeat, not even conscious of what you’re saying.
“want me to touch you?” yoongi’s hands go to your waist, holding you by your sides.
something inside you is yelling at you, begging you to go back to your room. but you nod at yoongi’s question, earning a smile from him that feels like a reward.
“come with me, sweetheart.” he’s suddenly taking a step back and offering you his hand to hold, waiting for you to make a decision.
you take it.
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to be continued :)
608 notes · View notes
healinghyunjin · 15 days
Text
Blossom
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Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader (fem)
Genre: crack, smut, fluff; historical!AU, magic!AU, fuck-or-die(ish)!AU, enemies(ish)-to-lovers!AU, 18+
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, outdated sexual norms/attitudes, public sex.
Author’s Note: After another ~long~ hiatus... I'm back! The premise of this fic is heavily inspired by a super old, now deleted AO3 fic I once read for a now dead fandom (showing my age here for you children lol). I love navigating these forced interaction scenarios - so please let me know your thoughts! Feedback and reblogs are love as always - and I now have a Ko-Fi that I would really appreciate contributions to as well (linked in my Bio)! Thank you for your support~
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Summary: But what this ritual required of you, the High Sorceress, was not just some spellwork or incantations - no, this ritual involved you losing your virginity. To your King - to Seungmin. On the High Table. In front of the entirety of the royal court. 
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You were sure you looked like a thundercloud - dark skirts swirling, white sparks crackling from your fingertips - as you stalked through the castle towards the royal chambers.
“Milady!” Changbin chased after you, your long-suffering knight trying his best to head you off. “His Majesty is in a council meeting right now,” he huffed out. “Maybe we can seek an audience another time?”
“I don’t ‘seek audiences’ from His Majesty, Bin,” the title grating in your mouth. “I talk to Kim Seungmin when I want to talk to Kim Seungmin - especially when he wants to pretend like I don’t exist.” 
You were laying it on a bit thick. But you were the High Sorceress. You had no insignificant amount of pride yourself, and nothing made your temper flare like Seungmin outmaneuvering you - exactly like he’d just done. 
You arrived at the heavy wrought iron doors of Seungmin’s private chambers and, with a swish of your palm, sent the doors flying open, almost rattling off their hinges. A tableful of lords turned around to gawk at you - but you only had eyes for the man at the head of the table. He leaned back in his chair, watching you stalk into the room with a barely concealed grin. “And there she is.” The faint note of humor in Seungmin’s voice made you want to wring his neck.
“Your Majesty,” you greeted in the frostiest voice you could muster up. 
Seungmin smirked. “You only use my proper title when you’re fit to rip my throat out, Lady Sorceress.” 
You ignored the barb. “We have an urgent matter to discuss, my lord.”
One of the old, stodgy lords piped up in a reedy, disapproving voice. “What can take precedence over matters of council and state, Sorceress?”
“Matters of national security, Lord Park.” Seungmin rose to his feet, making everyone else jump up to theirs as well. “Council is adjourned, my lords.”
You held your head high as the councilmen streamed out of the room around you, some barely bothering to disguise their resentment. Seungmin sauntered his way around the table, coming to stand right in front of you. You scowled as you inevitably had to tilt your head back just to look into his amused face. 
“You’ve been avoiding me, my witch.” 
“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you snapped back, cringing at how petulant you sounded even to your own ears. 
Of course you’d been avoiding him. Ever since he’d slapped those scrolls down on your worktable a week ago now, you hadn’t been able to think about him without flushing, let alone be in the same room as him. It would be for the good of the people, he’d announced crisply, looking so tall and prim and regal as he towered over you sitting on your little garden stool. I’m sure you won’t see any harm in it. You’d scanned through the parchment, ignoring the scribe’s careful translations to parse the ancient runes yourself. It outlined an ancient magical ritual to replenish the barrier wards for your nation if they ever fell - which they had. But what this ritual required of you, the High Sorceress, was not just some spellwork or incantations - no, this ritual involved you losing your virginity. To your King - to Seungmin. On the High Table. In front of the entirety of the royal court. 
Seungmin snapped you out of your thoughts with a brief “Ahem,” quirking a skeptical eyebrow at you. “I haven’t seen you in a week. Every time I’ve gone to your rooms since the day I gave you those scrolls, you’re conveniently ‘not there,’ and that poor fool,” he flicked a thumb over to point at Changbin, “is stuck trying - and failing - to make excuses for you.”
You shot a glare over at Changbin - he didn’t look sufficiently embarrassed of himself, but you would deal with that later. “Well, I’m here now, my lord. And I’d appreciate it if you could tell me how you unilaterally decided to add ‘Publicly Deflowering the High Witch’ to your agenda for this evening?”
You’d hoped to embarrass Seungmin, browbeat him - like you’d clearly done to Changbin, judging from the choking sound that came from next to you. But you’d underestimated your enemy. 
Seungmin sighed, clasping his arms behind his back. “Because we don’t have a choice in the matter, my dear witch. If you’d allowed me the chance to actually talk to you this week, I could have convinced you of that, and you'd have had time to prepare yourself. But - you didn’t, and so, I had to force your hand.” You shuffled uncomfortably under his piercing stare as he continued. “I know you translated the runes yourself - you know just as well as I do that this ritual needs to be done soon. Now, if we don’t want the Eastern Army taking advantage and invading us as soon as they muster up the forces. But unlike you, my lady - I don’t have the luxury to pretend like this problem will go away if I ignore it.” 
And that was exactly what you hated most about Kim Seungmin. He was smart and logical to a fault - enough so that he’d trained himself to not let pesky emotions get in the way of doing what needed to be done. You on the other hand… the less said the better on that front. 
Before you could snark something back at him or even just bristle up, Seungmin stepped away from you, rubbing his hands together. “Now that that’s been settled, I’m sure you have no more objections. Anyways, you have a busy afternoon ahead of you, Lady Sorceress. I’ve sent several maids to your chambers to help ready you for this evening - I’m sure you remember how exact the runes were in terms of preparation.” Seungmin wasn’t even bothering to hide his grin as he dismissed you with a wave of his hand, striding out of the room. 
That patronizing bastard. You briefly contemplated throwing a fireball at his laughing back - but being executed for treason wasn’t exactly the way you intended to go out. 
With a deep, soul-weary sigh, you turned on your heel to leave, resigning yourself to your fate. 
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Of course, if you knew exactly how the rest of your afternoon was going to be spent, you might just have thrown that fireball at Seungmin and gotten it over with. 
After that useless showdown, Changbin frogmarched you back to your rooms, handing you off to an actually intimidating keeper - Chaeryeong, your personal maid. But, to your even greater chagrin, she wasn’t alone. As promised, an army of maids descended on you, all charged with different vicious tasks - stripping your skin bare and smooth with hot sugar paste; kneading various herbal, floral unguents into your skin before dunking you into cold and hot baths; brushing your hair out until it fairly gleamed in the fading sunlight. By the time you were passed off to Chaeryeong for her final inspection, you almost didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. 
Chaeryeong clicked her tongue approvingly as she walked around you, tightening the laces on your virginal white chemise. “You finally look presentable, milady.”
You bristled. “Are you saying I usually don’t?”
“Last week I had to pull a twig out of your hair before sending you down to supper. There isn’t a single dress of yours that doesn’t have mudstains, milady, and you think a splash of cold water every morning or two is enough to care for your skin.” Chaeryeong looked scandalized.
You rolled your eyes. “Well, I’m glad one of us is satisfied with this situation.”
“You’re not?” 
“Why in the name of the Goddess would I be?”
“Sleeping with a man who’s young, tall, handsome, powerful, wealthy,” Chaeryeong giggled as she counted off each word on her fingers, “isn’t the worst thing in the world, milady.” She flicked you a mischievous glance as she smoothly slid to stand behind you. “Especially when the man in question has a major soft spot for you.”
You scoffed. “Kim Seungmin doesn’t have a soft spot for me, Chae. He can't even be in the same room as me without snarking at me - and I can't remember the last time he actually said anything nice to me.”
Chaeryeong’s fingers stilled in your hair as she stared you down in the mirror. “You really believe that, don’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at her in response. She let out a deep sigh. “For such a brilliant witch… you really can be dense.” She shook her head before reaching over to grab flowers to weave into your hair. “I hope you realize - the one thing standing between him and war is you. Most men - especially a King - would have just tossed you onto that table and had their way with you. And maybe they would have begged your forgiveness and understanding afterwards - maybe, if they were worried about you cursing them into oblivion. No one else would have spent a whole week waiting to try and convince you into doing this willingly.”
You opened your mouth to snap something back in your defense... and realized you had nothing to say. 
“See,” Chaeryeong murmured softly. “Sometimes it feels like you’re… willfully blind to His Majesty’s kindness towards you. He’s always treated you with respect - and made sure you’re treated with respect. I wouldn’t take that for granted, my lady - or ignore what’s behind that mask he puts up all the time.” 
As she put the final touches on your hair, you couldn’t help but reflect on Chaeryeong’s words. You had extraordinary freedom and liberties as the High Sorceress…but no, that wasn’t exactly right. You were given extraordinary freedom and liberties as the High Sorceress - by your King. If it wasn’t for his unwavering support for you - against the Council, against any and all reactionary forces - you wouldn't hold any of the power you did. Sure, he riled you up, jerked you around a bit - and you still hated just how easily he could outwit you. But you were being childish to fixate on that - to lose sight of the forest for the trees. 
“And here’s the final touch.” Chaeryeong sidled up to you with a long scrap of silk in her hands - your blindfold. “You’re not allowed to see His Majesty until the ritual starts.” Her quick fingers made short work of fastening it around your head - and being the jerk that she was, she put it on properly tight, making sure you couldn’t see a thing. “Maybe that’ll teach you to let yourself lean on him for once,” she mused, before pulling you up out of your chair with none too gentle hands. 
Chaeryeong, as always, was right. You were completely unmoored by the loss of your sight, limiting your magical abilities too. You were forced to rely completely, like a baby, on Chaeryeong to guide you through the halls to the oldest wing of the castle - and you only realized that you were in front of Seungmin when the two of you came to a sudden halt, a reverent “Your Majesty” coming from her lips. 
This was it. 
Chaeryeong subtly pulled you down into a curtsy, pinching you in the back to make sure you stayed low as she stepped away from your side. From the sound of her sharp footsteps receding down the hall and the lack of any other noise around you, you presumed she’d left - and you were now alone with your King. 
“You may rise.” Seungmin’s amused drawl sounded from somewhere high above your head. Disoriented by your imposed blindness, you stumbled a little as you stood up - but you were caught by warm hands encircling your arms, steadying you on your feet. “How low the high have fallen, hmm?” Such a tease, you thought. But the gentle tone of his voice, the circles his thumbs were rubbing into your arms… he was helping ground you, to put you more at ease - which only made you feel more guilty. 
“My lord,” you started softly - earning a harsh inhale in surprise from Seungmin. “I… I owe you an apology. My behavior earlier today - for this entire week - has been immature and not fitting for a ranking member of your court. Forgive me for my negligence.” You made to dip into a curtsy again - but Seungmin’s grip on your arms tightened, keeping you from lowering yourself. 
There was a heartbeat of silence before Seungmin responded, his voice more tender than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t know what prompted this… change, but - you don’t need to apologize. I knew we both knew this is what must be done, and I knew we were going to eventually do it - but that doesn’t make it any easier for you. You didn’t want this with me, and I know that.”
Why did that last statement sound a false note in your heart? You ignored it in favor of speaking out. “But I’ve spent the past week shirking my duty. You had to force me back in line.”
“And that is my responsibility as King, my sorceress. No harm done.” You could tell that he was leaning down closer to you, his voice loud and clear in your ear. “And remember - neither this kingdom nor I will ever forget this sacrifice.”
There was an oddly charged moment of silence after that statement - which was abruptly broken by the sensation of the ground suddenly falling away from under you. You gasped as surprisingly sturdy arms lifted you up until you were cradled against a lean, hard chest. “Seungmo!” You squeaked, the childhood nickname slipping past your lips. “S-since when were you strong enough to do this?”
There was a pause - you were positive that Seungmin had rolled his eyes at you. “Just because I don’t have bulging biceps like that bodyguard of yours doesn’t mean that I’m a weakling, witch.” 
“Well, it won’t be good to kick things off with you tripping over your feet carrying me in,” you muttered sulkily. 
You couldn’t hold back a shiver as Seungmin tsked, his warm breath ghosting across the sensitive shell of your ear. “Such disrespect for your king? Bold, given that you’re at my mercy for the next hour.” 
“Next hour? That ego of yours is still clearly giant.”
Seungmin let out a husky laugh. “It’s not the size of my ego you should be worried about right now, sweet.” You thumped a useless fist against his chest - even as your core involuntarily clenched and slickened.
There was a ear-ringingly loud blast of trumpets, followed by the creak of the gates to the ancient hall being pushed open. The murmurs and chatter of the crowd awaiting your arrival fell silent, an almost eerie hush settling in as Seungmin strode into the hall. Even with the enormous fire spluttering away in the ancient hearth, the room was always chilly; gooseflesh pimpled your arms, and you almost automatically burrowed closer into Seungmin’s neck for warmth - at least, that’s what you told yourself. The sharp raps of Seungmin’s footsteps against the flagstones came to a halt, and you were securely sat onto a hard surface - the High Table. Your sacrificial altar, you mused to yourself cynically. 
You jumped a little as you felt gentle fingers clasp your hands, giving you a firm squeeze. Those warm fingertips then ghosted across your cheeks, twining through your hair as they searched for the knot of your blindfold. Your heart was bounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears as Seungmin leaned into you, that familiar, titilatingly musky scent of his flooding your senses as he worked to unravel the tight knot, until the blindfold finally came free. 
You blinked your eyes open to mellow, golden light - and the sight of Seungmin standing over you, watching you carefully with a small, soft smile. The great hall was awash with candlelight, long tapering candles and sticks of smoking perfume burning all around you, throwing the faces of the crowd of onlookers beyond you into shadow - but bathing Seungmin in glorious, warm light. He looked impeccably regal as he stood above you in his smart black leather doublet and swan white shirtsleeves, his royal purple ermine-edged cloak clasped around his throat. His hair was up, brushed off his forehead, and the gold of his royal circlet shone out bright against the ink black of his hair - but the brightest of all were his eyes, warm and deep brown, steady and clear as he - your King, you truly felt down to your bones for the first time - held your gaze. 
Taking a deep breath, you let yourself fall back, the ancient stone of the table icy against your spine. While you couldn’t see any of the spectators surrounding you and Seungmin - the vaulted ceiling of the great hall the only thing in your line of sight - it felt like you could sense their gaze prickling across your skin, weighing you down. But before you could let your mind wander too far, Seungmin was there, leaning over you with those broad, square shoulders, blocking your sight of anything but him. You felt your cheeks flame as his hand came up to cup your face, and  your heart skipped a beat as he pressed a petal soft kiss to your forehead, breathily whispering into your skin. “It will be good, my sweet. Trust me.”
Maybe Chaeryeong was onto something… You searched his eyes, finding so much affection and reassurance beaming back at you that you blinked your own shut - before giving him a brief nod. 
He let his lips drag over to your temple, then down to your cheek, leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake as his lips trailed lower and lower, down your jawline, down your neck - and lower. Your mind reeled, your hands fisting the flimsy material of your gown. This was supposed to be brief and impersonal - you’d even readied a lubrication charm in preparation for the inevitable. But you should have known that Seungmin wouldn’t just do an adequate job like that. You were fighting for your life to stay silent as he added his teeth into the mix, working the thin, sensitive skin of your throat until you felt the sickly sweet pain of a bruise forming. His hand slid down from your cheek so he could softly thumb at the mark - his mark - marring your skin, and when he pressed down just right on the bruise, you whimpered - and watched as his eyes darkened to black. 
From there, he was insatiable. Your hands flew up to his shoulders at the swipe of his tongue against your hardening nipple; they desperately slid to clutch at his hair when he took it whole into his mouth, the wet heat tantalizing even through the cotton of your chemise. He palmed your neglected breast hard, the soft flesh spilling through his fingers. A whine finally tore itself free from your throat, and Seungmin snapped his head up to look at you, lips twisting into a triumphant smirk. “I thought you weren’t going to enjoy this, Lady Sorceress.” His fingers came up to tweak your nipple - hard - as he mouthed carelessly at your other breast, his eyes watching you hungrily as you writhed under his touch. The pleasure carried you away on a hazy cloud of lust, into the dreamland of dangerous possibilities. What would it feel like to have this dumb chemise out of the way, so his fingers and lips could traipse your naked skin? What would it feel like to have the heat of his bare skin pressed up against yours - the weight and friction of his hard chest crushing into your sensitive breasts?
Your attention was yanked back into the land of the living at sudden, discordant noise: gasps and murmurs, you quickly realized, rippling through your audience - for your King was dropping to a knee at your feet, hands sliding with promise up your legs under your chemise. You shot up onto your elbows, staring down at him in horror. “Your Majesty,” you hissed. “This is wanton.”
Seungmin arched an eyebrow. “I’d rather be wanton than have you in pain at my hands.” You felt a traitorous flutter in your chest. “And most importantly - when you have the kingdom’s most powerful woman laid out in front of you... you worship her.” 
Those large, long-fingered hands of his found purchase in the soft skin of your inner thighs, forcing them spread and keeping them spread with that hidden strength of his. He let out a small groan at the sight of your swollen folds, dragging a single, deliberate fingertip down the length of your slit. At the very first touch of his soft lips to your sensitive bundle of nerves, you choked out a moan - and startled as the candles around you all simultaneously popped. From between your legs, Seungmin laughed darkly. “Looks like I won’t need to ask you whether I’ve done a good job,” he said, the sensation of his breath and lips against your core making you squirm with stimulation. His hands slid up to your hips, anchoring you in place as he lapped languidly at your cunt, tongue flicking in and out of your aching entrance, nose rubbing up against your swollen little pearl. 
There was no chance in hell you could stay quiet any more. As a moaning keen spilled forth from your lips, your eyes flicked up to the shadowy figures in the crowd watching you. You’d thought they would be judgmental - critical, gossipy, as people always were in situations like this. Instead… there wasn’t a face you could make out that wasn’t flushed, expression glazed over. Seungmin slid his arms under your legs, yanking you down the table until the base of your spine rested on the very edge of the table, your core putty under his mouth as he supported your weight - and you watched as some woman in the crowd whimpered, biting her lip in response. 
Your head lolled back onto the table, and you started shuddering in Seungmin’s hands. 
“I guess I was wrong about needing an hour.” With a final kiss to your folds, Seungmin rose to his feet, leisurely wiping his mouth on the back of one hand, the other drifting down to the laces of his trousers. “I didn’t anticipate just how thoroughly you would enjoy my attentions, my witch.” Tease. His eyes danced with mirth as you whined in annoyance. You felt the blunt tip of him dragging through your folds, its weight catching deliciously against the tight ring of your entrance. “I’ll start slow,” he murmured, a hand coming up to brace himself above your head. And from the first breach of his length into your walls, you knew you were in trouble. 
“Big,” you gasped out. Seungmin let his free hand run loose over the flesh of your thighs and hips, kneading and caressing and soothing. “Relax for me, sweet - it’ll be easier if you let me in.” His voice was breathy and soft, eyes so warm - daresay loving - as he leaned in over you, covering your body with his. You gave him a small nod, breathing deeply and doing your best to let your body sink into the stone under you. As he carefully, firmly worked the rest of his length into your tight cunt, you couldn’t help but whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the deep, deep stretch of him, your spine arching off the table as your body contorted to accommodate him. “Beautiful,” he murmured, pupils dilated with lust. “Made to take me.” 
And as the sting and discomfort started to morph into the burning, insatiable stretch of pleasure, you were inclined to agree with him. 
“Let me know when I can move, sweet,” he asked, the flat of his hand rubbing soothing circles into your lower belly. “Please,” you rasped out - and the delightedly vicious grin that curled his lips in response only sent another surge of fire through you. Your limbs ached to twine around him, pulling him down into you, imprisoning him between your legs - but you were determined to maintain some public decorum. Seungmin made the decision for you though, salaciously bold as ever as he leaned forward into you, splaying your legs out wide, knees almost to your chest. He tested the waters with a rapid snap of his hips in and out - and the two of you stared at each other with wide eyes at just how deep it all felt in this position. Seungmin’s hips started rocking back and forth, almost as if on their own volition - almost as if they were enchanted - and your hands desperately scrabbled for purchase on the unyielding stone as he started pounding into you. 
Your hips canted up into his, trying to answer his thrusts with your own. And you were clearly doing something right, judging by his drawn out groans. “Mine,” he moaned. As he bore down on you, every thrust ground delicious friction into your bundle of nerves - and Seungmin’s hips were driving into yours at such a punishing pace that you were overwhelmed by stimulation. You were sure the two of you were making an absolute mess, the squelching sounds of him pumping into you only growing louder with every thrust. Just with his lips and nose and tongue, the friction and sensation and pleasure had all already brought you close to the cliff of your peak. You knew it wasn’t going to be much longer now before he dragged you over - but there was something positively strange happening to you. Your pleasure was merely riding the edge of some deeper, powerfully visceral sensation that had you gasping, shivering with every plunging stroke. But Seungmin, your ever-wise, your ever-aware Seungmin, had cottoned onto what was happening to you - and wrapping you tightly up into his arms, he only picked up the pace of his hips. “Let go, sweet,” he eked out. “I’ve got you safe, here - let go, my queen.” And before your mind could even process what he’d just given away, you felt yourself clenching up, eyes squeezing shut and nerves singing in pleasure as you hit your release - the pain of your fingers digging into the broad expanse of his back, the spasms of your tight cunt triggering Seungmin’s release simultaneously, spurts of his hot, thick seed flooding into your core, serving as a balm for your aching walls as he collapsed into your waiting arms. 
Before you could let the waves of pleasure carry away your mind with it, however - your eyes shot open at the gasps and shouts coming from around you. Gold - that was all you could see - a golden bubble encasing you and your King. Seungmin lifted his head up from where it was pillowed on your chest, a look of pure wonder on his face as the two of you watched the bubble slowly float and collapse inwards, coalescing into a glowing yellow orb hovering above all of your heads. The hazy whorls of incense and candle smoke in the air took on a bright golden hue - before it all whooshed outwards in a rapid gust of wind, rattling the windows of the hall as the orb and its golden mist exploded out into the sky . You recognized the magic for what it was - the largest, purest barrier charm you’d ever witnessed. 
You and Seungmin had pulled it off. A giggle of delight squeezed out of your chest, and you let your gaze snap back down to the man resting on his elbows over you. Seungmin was watching you with a small, mysterious smile, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath. And as you looked back at him… you felt a wave of emotion wash over you, as powerful as if the ground had literally shifted under your feet. An almost unbearable fondness filled your heart as you beheld him - your King, your protector…your lover. 
You had been right about one thing - there would be no going back from this, at least for you. But now you found yourself wondering… why was that such a bad thing?
Ignoring the shuffling footsteps around you as your audience slowly started to disperse, you let your arms wrap around Seungmin, relishing the feeling of his muscles bunching under your touch as he slid his arms in turn around you, helping you to sit upright. His dark eyes were fixed on the place the two of you were joined as he slowly extricated himself from you, the feeling of his sticky seed trickling out from between your legs strange and foreign. That ever intelligent, searching gaze then slowly scanned your body, looking you over head to toe as he tucked himself away in his trousers, before his eyes fluttered shut. Seungmin let out a slow exhale before blinking his eyes open again - and you were startled to see that professional mask of his slide back into place. 
“Up you go,” he murmured, arm sliding around your back as he helped you off the table, supporting you as your legs quailed under your weight. With a few deft pulls, he unfastened his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders instead. You were thankful for the warmth it provided - and the coverage, you realized, as you noticed the servants hovering at a respectful distance from the two of you. “Give me a second,” Seungmin said before turning away to address his valet and knight-at-arms. 
One of the maids stepped forward, a fan in her hand to put out the few lingering candles. Before you could even hesitate on what to do, she dipped into a low curtsy, bowing her head - to you. “Your Highness,” she breathed out, an almost reverent look on her face as she glanced back up at you. Awkward with the unfamiliar courtesy, you smiled hesitantly, tilting your head at her in acknowledgement. 
How had you misjudged this situation so badly? Part of your hesitation leading up to all of this had been because you’d thought that you’d be made out to be a slag - no better than the King’s kept woman. Why hadn’t you appreciated the power inherent in this? With the spectacular care with which he’d pleasured you, with the demonstration of your magic in front of the whole court, Seungmin had marked you - just as he’d told you with those hungry eyes - out to be the most powerful woman in the kingdom. 
You snapped out of your thoughts to see Seungmin making his way back to stand in front of you. You frowned to see that mask of his still in place, a strange awkwardness in his manner as he addressed you. “I can help you back to your rooms now. Or,” he turned to gesture behind him, “one of the servants can take you if you prefer.”
You arched a critical eyebrow at him. “Could we go to your chambers instead?”
His eyes widened for a second, before you watched understanding wash over his face. “Ah yes, that was careless of me - there’s too many stairs to get back to your chambers. You can rest in mine as long as you need.”
Wrapping an arm loosely around you, he let you lean on him as the two of you walked out of the hall. His rooms weren’t too far away, the royal chambers taking up a significant portion of the ancient wing of the castle. But an awkward silence reigned over the two of you, Seungmin stoically looking straight ahead as you limped along beside him. 
Something had clearly changed in you - because for once, instead of being the reactive fool you normally were, you saw the situation - and his reaction - for what it actually was. Seungmin was taking his turn to be the awkward overthinker - a role he’d grown out of once he’d become King… except when it came to a few specific things he couldn’t stay purely rational about. The things he cared about the most, the things that mattered most deeply… in this case - you. 
You sighed. You’d probably need to gift Chaeryeong a necklace or something after all of this was over. 
You bided your time until Seungmin finally shut the two of you into his chambers. He’d turned away to lock the doors behind him - and startled when he turned back around to find you standing right in front of him. As you stared up at him, watching his lips twitch in discomfort… you came to a shocking realization. 
“You never kissed me,” you breathed out, even more surprised as you said it. He’d kissed you literally everywhere else - but he hadn’t touched your lips. You gazed up at him with wide eyes. “Why?”
Seungmin shifted uncomfortably. “It felt too…intimate.”
What? “You took my virginity - in public. We unleashed a magical force field together,” you deadpanned, trying to get a laugh out of him - and failing, as Seungmin continued to look at you stoically. “I’d say that’s pretty intimate, my lord.”
He shrugged, hugging his arms around him and hesitating for a second - before bluntly, in Seungmin fashion, getting to the heart of the matter. “The reality is that… freely given sacrifice, prophecy, whatever you want to call it - I took something from you that you didn’t mean for me to have.” It was a testament to Seungmin’s poise that his voice stayed even, his eyes stayed steadily on you as he spoke. “I wanted you to have something - a part of you - you could still give away of your own will.” He sagged heavily into the doorframe, finally breaking eye contact as he trailed off. 
Poor baby. Your heart fluttered. “That is… quite thoughtful of you, my lord,” you choked out, taking a small step forward. Then another. And another, inching towards him. “So - that means it’s alright with you for me to do this, right?” Reaching up, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up onto your tiptoes to press your body into his. His hands reflexively grabbed your waist, steadying you even as his eyes widened in surprise - before fluttering shut as you pressed your lips to his. 
His mouth was divine heat - soft, pliable against yours. He gasped as you nipped at his lower lip, and you seized the chance to lick into his mouth, deepening the kiss until your head was whirling, ignorant of where you ended and he began. 
When you finally pulled away for air, his lips chased yours for a second before he caught himself. You giggled, beaming up at him. “How low the high have fallen, hmm?”
Seungmin let out a low warm laugh, such fondness in his eyes that you couldn’t help but shy away. “I have much, much lower to fall still, don’t worry,” he murmured as he bent down over you, his hair falling into his eyes as he smiled. In a single, smooth movement, he flipped the two of you around so he had you pinned up against the wall, his body pressed firmly into yours. 
You cleared your throat. “Y-you really like having me against hard surfaces, don’t you?”
He shrugged, focus elsewhere as his fingers busied themselves with the laces of your chemise. “Seems like it’s the only way to keep you good for me, witch mine.” You whined as his hand accidentally grazed your sore, tender nipple, the sound making his eyes snap back to yours. A dark, wicked smile curled his lips before he crashed his mouth back onto yours, long fingers working your breast deliberately, possessively. You responded with enthusiasm, tangling your own fingers into his silky hair, until the spell was broken - for you at least - by loud noises from outside his chambers. 
You pulled away from his lips with a loud smack. “What’s that?”
“Never mind that,” he rasped out, pulling you in tight against him. “Worry about it later.” Your breath hitched as he nosed his way into your neck, pulling at the loosened neck of your chemise to expose your collarbone for him to feast on. 
Steeling yourself, you pushed your hands firmly against his chest. “Seungmo, I want to worry about it now.” He groaned, rolling his eyes, but let you go without a fight, releasing you from his embrace. Turning on your heel, you tugged him along to his balcony. The sounds had seemed to come from the royal gardens, which were sprawled right below Seungmin’s chambers. Pulling your cloak - his cloak - more tightly around you, you stepped out onto the balcony - and froze, as an astounding sight brought the two of you to a standstill. 
Wherever you looked - below you, around you - every single plant and tree was in abundant bloom. Regardless of season, of age - fruit and flowers were everywhere, swinging in the breeze, littering the ground. You turned to Seungmin in shock - only to see him looking back at you with loving, wondrous awe. “That’s all you,” he murmured, brushing a fond hand against your cheek. “My powerful, mesmerizing sorceress.”
You flushed. “No, it’s not.” You stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s us.” You tiptoed up to press a kiss into his cheek - and promptly hid into Seungmin’s neck as whoops and cheers rang up to you from the gardens below. 
Seungmin laughed, tucking you into his side as he led the two of you back inside. “Well, you know what this means,” he said.
You quirked an eyebrow at him. “What?”
Shooting a dazzling smile your way, he caught you up in his arms once again, the heady sensation already warm and familiar to you - before peremptorily throwing you onto his bed. 
“The fate of the flora of this kingdom is in our hands, Lady Sorceress.” He intoned in a faux serious voice - made only the more ridiculous by the sight of him crawling on all fours towards you on the bed. “We have crucial work to do, milady - and we must start posthaste.”
You threw your head back in laughter before wrapping your limbs around him. “Yes, my lord - let’s start immediately.” 
Fin.
~
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