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#(as long as i get to use their head as an elbow rest for the aesthetics ofc lol)
inkdrinkerworld · 23 hours
Note
soft dom! remus calls reader a good girl just in like a very casual everyday public scenario and she’s like 😳 and he goes “u ok” and she’s like “no not rly can we go have sex now” 💀
Smut: 18+ only p in v penetration, oral (fem receiving) fingering, I’m a little rusty but I like the way this came out!
“Good girl,” Remus murmurs as you show him your graded paper and you frown. “M’proud of you.”
You’re in the living room, James and Sirius on the love seat as you sit with Remus on his recliner.
“Remus.” You grumble, body hot as his hands slip around you and adjust you in his lap.
“Yes, my love?” You rest your chin on his chest and look up at him through your lashes.
“You can’t just say that.” You whisper, Sirius and James paying you both no mind- they’re used to all this by now.
Remus laughs, lips pressed to your cheek when he calms down. “I’m sorry baby,”
You shake your head, “Can we go to the room?” Remus smirks as you wiggle a bit in his lap.
He spares a glance to Sirius and James, both of them looking comfortable and about ten minutes from sleep. Then he looks back at you, with your pupils blown wide and your near breathlessness.
“You’re incorrigible.” He murmurs, standing his his hands under your thighs- your paper long forgotten in the space you’d occupied.
“You’re dogs!” Sirius calls as you and Remus disappear, a blush taking over your face as Remus kicks your bedroom door shut.
As he lays you down, you can’t help but fidget. Remus looks down at you, his hands trailing your thighs.
“Don’t tease Remmy.” You whine chips bucking into his hands making him smirk.
“I’m not,” he shimmies your skirt and underwear to your ankles, swearing when he finds you soaked already. “Dove, this is a little embarrassing.”
You whine, sitting up on your elbows to watch as he lowers himself to his knees. Remus’ eyes go hungry the minute you part your legs, a swear leaving his lips softly before his fingers slide up your slick.
“Remus please.” You’re breathless already and it makes something more than pride and ego swell in his chest.
Remus doesn’t speed up his actions, he only takes his time in sinking a finger into you. Your hips buck a bit and he has to bite back a laugh as his other hand slings along your torso to keep you still.
“I have to get you ready, dovey. Don’t want you hurting too bad.” God your stomach tightens- you’re not sure how your reserved boyfriend has such a silver tongue but it drives you crazy.
Remus peppers kisses along your inner thigh as he fingers you, adding a second one when you let out a particularly pleased whine.
“Remus I need you.” You cry, hand over your mouth as his fingers push a little deeper, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.
“You have me, baby.” He doesn’t move a bit, only doubles down his efforts and when he feels the tremble in your stomach, his lips replace his thumb.
Your fingers thread through his hair instantly, holding him in place as your elbows give out under you and your head is flung back.
“Close,” you breathe, it’s more like a harsh puff of the word but Remus hums and pushes his fingers deeper and you let go.
You bite into the heel of your palm, muffling the whine that bubbles out of you. You don’t let Remus waste any more time, pulling him away from your center and closer to your mouth.
“Easy,” he whispers against your lips, amusement colouring his tone. Remus pushes his sweatpants down, his cock springing free and his other hand guides it to your entrance.
“Please, Remmy. Please.” Your hands anchor themselves to his shoulders as he sinks in, your breath caught in your chest.
“Breathe, dove.” His lips trail a path from your jaw to your collarbones, his hips moving only a little as you adjust.
Remus’ hips snap slowly at first, a motion that has you locking your legs around his waist. “More,” you beg and he finds he can’t deny you anymore.
Your belly burns with need, your face tucked away in his neck. Soft puffs of your breath warming his skin.
“Feel so good,” Remus murmurs, kissing your cheek and pecking just by your chin as he sneaks a hand to your clit.
His movements are measured and deep and as you get closer Remus has to put a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.
“I know baby, I know. Just let go f’me.” He groans, legs quivering a little as he feels the force of your orgasm against him.
You hold onto his wrist as you come, your eyes crossing and back arching off the bed as Remus works you through your high.
He doesn’t take long to finish inside you either, a few sharp thrusts and he’s there, holding your hips still as he rides out his own orgasm.
“Better?” He asks as he pulls out, kissing your chest when you mewl. You nod, reaching for Remus as he reaches into your bedside table for wipes.
“M’right here, dove. It’s gonna be cold okay?” He warns you every time and every time it makes your heart flutter.
After he’s all done cleaning you up, Remus fits you into the sweater he’d been wearing and a clean pair of panties.
“Coming to get something to eat?” He’d leave you in here by yourself if you want to, but he never really wants you alone after.
“Do we have any more of those fruit snacks? The watermelon ones?” You let Remus pick you up, hissing a little as you wrap your legs around him.
“We should, you can also have some of the leftover spring rolls and a soda.”
Sirius looks at you both in faux disgust, James asleep in his lap.
“Dogs!”
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Summary: Dean has been getting backlash from John to cut his hair because it’s not “professional/manly” to have long hair. Y/N voiced her opinions on liking his long hair and how Dean shouldn’t listen to John’s ass. Let’s see how she reacts to Dean following his fathers orders.
Y/N and Sam 19 years old, Dean is 23 years old (Sam is away at college)
BASED ON:
The Old Testament Series.
Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader) by @dianawinchester03
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Havenwood, Georgia
•December 2002
As night falls over the small town of Havenwood, Georgia, Y/N was lounging on her bed in her room of the safehouse, flipping through her playboy magazine, a small smile on her face as she hears soft footsteps approach her room door.
A gentle knock sounds at her door. “Hey Princess, you awake?” the deep, familiar voice of Dean calls quietly from the other side of her room. “It’s open!” Y/N called out, still flipping through her magazine as she laid on her stomach.
The door slowly opened, revealing Dean as he walked inside and closed the door behind him. He smiled, his eyes lighting up as he saw her on the bed, her legs resting in the air, lazily flipping through her magazine. He walked over to the bed and plopped down onto it beside her, gently taking the magazine out of her hands and tossing it to the floor.
“What the-“ Y/N exclaimed when Dean took her magazine away from her. The clear look of despair on his face as he ran a hand through his dark blonde locks. “What’s wrong, charming?” She asked concerned, tilting her head. Dean sighed, laying beside her on the bed, his arms splayed out. "Nothin'," he grumbled, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“Bullshit, you don’t just come into my room unless you want me to cover for you so you can hook up with some chick or unless you got something on your mind. Now spill, asshat” She pointed out the obvious, pressing on his clear frustration as she pushed herself up to lean against the bed frame.
Dean snorted, turning his head to look at her. "Can't a guy just want to spend time with his favorite girl?" he asked, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Y/N gave him a tired and unimpressed look at his statement, not buying it one second. “Talk.” She said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.
Dean grumbled under his breath, knowing there was no way he was getting out of this one. He caved in, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fine," he muttered. "It's just...dad wants me to cut my hair. Says the long hair isn’t ‘manly’ enough” Dean groaned, sprawling his arms out on the bed.
Y/N almost shot up from the bed at his statement, she wasn’t gonna admit it, but she fucking loved the long hair on Dean, and the thought of John making him cut it pissed her off. “He said WHAT?!” She exclaimed, absolutely bewildered.
"Yeah, I know," Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes. "It's stupid, right? I mean, I like my hair the way it is, but dad..." he trailed off, frustrated. “Fuck, John” Y/N’s firm tone cut him off, “You’re a grown man, Dean. You don’t need to listen to his ass 24/7” She stated, pointing her finger at him firmly before crossing her arms over her chest, leaning back into the bedframe
Dean chuckled, shaking his head, amused by her little outburst. "I know, I know," he agreed, propping himself up on his elbows on his side to face her. "But you know how he and your dad are. They expect us to do what they say, no questions asked." Y/N rolled her eyes again, “Yeah, I know. Which is why you shouldn’t do it” She stated as if it’s obvious.
"Easier said than done, princess," Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair. "You know how stubborn dad is. Once he's set on something, it's almost impossible to change his mind."
“It’s YOUR hair, charming. If you wanna keep it, then keep it dude. I’m kinda digging the boyband look” She teased, nudging him slightly. Dean chuckled, a hint of a blush staining his cheeks at her comment. "Boyband, huh?" he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "You think I look like a member of NSYNC or something?"
“Nahhh. I’m getting a more Nick Carter vibe” She retorted, playfully ruffling his locks. Dean swatted her hand away, a mock glare on his face. "You did not just say I look like Nick Carter," he huffed, but an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"I'll have you know, I look way better than that hack" he said, running a hand through his hair again, trying to maintain his feigned annoyance with her as he tried to fix the mess she made of his locks. Y/N gasped dramatically, “You take that back!” She smacked his arm.
“That man is a national treasure, you’re lucky to even be breathing the same air as him” She pointed a firm finger at Dean. Dean chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I take it back," he said, grinning at her feigned outrage. "Nick Carter is a national treasure, and I am not fit to be in his presence."
Y/N grinned, patting his head playfully, “Good boy” She taunted, leaning back against the bed-frame to get more comfortable. “Are you really gonna do it though?” Her tone fell more serious. Dean sighed, his playful mood from a moment ago evaporating. "I don’t know,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair again. “I mean, I don’t really want to cut it, but Dad’s been on my ass about it for weeks now.”
"He keeps saying it’s unprofessional and that it’s not how a hunter should look," he continued, his frustration returning. "But I just don’t see the big deal, you know? A long-ass mullet hasn’t stopped me from ganking monsters and kicking some major ass."
Y/N pumped her fist in the air. “Amen, brother. You’re preaching to the choir” Dean chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Yeah, I figured you'd be on my side," he said, giving her a grin. "You've never been one to follow the rules anyway."
“That’s exactly why I’m on house arrest and dad left your ass to babysit me” Y/N snorted, shaking her head. She and her father got into yet another argument recently about his asshole tendencies, so he ‘grounded’ her and left her in Georgia with Dean to babysit. As if a 19-year old girl needed a babysitter. The thought made her roll her eyes.
"Hey, I'll have you know I am a great babysitter," Dean said with a smirk, playfully knocking on the top of her head. "I make sure you're well fed, protected, and entertained, all while dealing with your dumbass."
This earned Dean a smack to the back of his head by Y/N, along with a harsh glare. "Hey, hey! I was joking!" Dean protested, rubbing the back of his head where she smacked him. He smirked at her glare, knowing she wasn't nearly as upset with him as she wanted him to believe.
“Whatever” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Now get out” She shoved him off the bed using her hip. “I wanna watch Fast and Furious” Dean let out a groan of protest as he rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a thud. "The Fast and Furious?” he said, sounding incredulous. "Again? Isn't this like the third time you've rewatched that movie this week?"
“Shut up, Paul Walker is worth it. And you know you love it” Y/N rolled her eyes, picking up the remote to her DVR set on her nightstand. "Yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled, picking himself up off the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I swear, if I have to hear you fangirl over Paul Walker again I might puke."
She raised her foot again to kick him off the bed, “Out!” She demanded, tossing a pillow at him. Dean stumbled back slightly, barely dodging the pillow being tossed at him. "Alright, alright, I'm going," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. He stood up, making his way towards the door but not before shooting her a smirk over his shoulder. "But for the record, I think Vin Diesel is way cooler."
That statement earned Dean another pillow being hauled at his head, along with Y/N pointing firmly at the door. Dean quickly ducked to avoid the pillow, a laugh escaping his lips. "Alright, I'm going, I'm going." He chuckled, walking out of the room, but not before sticking his tongue out at her playfully.
When Dean closed the door, Y/N found herself sinking into her bed, blushing profusely. As Dean closed the door behind him, he leaned against it for a moment, a small smile still on his face. He shook his head rapidly when he realized he was blushing a bit, blinking frantically before catching himself. Striding over to his room.
____________________________________________
It was now a few days later, John and F/N are still yet to return from their hunt. The house was running low on supplies, so using their emergency fraud cards, Dean went to the grocery to get some stuff for Y/N to make dinner.
As Dean pulled up to the house, he saw Y/N sitting on the front porch, smoking a cigarette. He parked the Impala and climbed out, bags of groceries in his hand, making his way up to the house. He braced himself for the inevitable reaction she was going to have to his new haircut.
She seemed to be lost in her own mind as she took a drag from her cigarette, the headphones to her Walkman tucked into her ears, the sound of Nickelback blasting through the headphone, her eyes closed as she banged her head along to the beat.
Dean chuckled at the sight of her as he approached the house, setting the bags of groceries down on the porch beside her. He then reached down, gently pulling the headphones from her ears, a smirk plastered on his face.
Y/N's eyes snapped open at the sudden absence of her music, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw Dean standing in front of her with bags of groceries. Her jaw dropped and her cigarette fell from her fingers as she took in the sight of his new haircut. He was now sporting a shorter, more neat look, a drastic change from the longer, boy band look he had previously.
Dean snickered at her reaction, his smirk widening as he took in the look on her face. "Surprise," he said, gesturing to his new haircut. He leaned against the banister, waiting for her to say something, anything.
Y/N shot up from her seat, quickly stepping on the cigarette bud with the heel of her slippers before smacking Dean. “You dumbass!” She exclaimed, grabbing the elder Winchester by his face, pulling it down to her level to examine his head.
"What the hell?" Dean exclaimed, stumbling back as Y/N suddenly shot up from her seat and began smacking him. He winced as she grabbed his face, her grip surprisingly firm as she pulled his face down to hers.
"Hey, watch the hair!" He protested, but his protests fell on deaf ears as Y/N began to examine his new haircut closely. “You barely have any more me to watch!” Y/N shot back, still holding a squirming Dean’s head between her hands. “You trusted some rando with your mane?! I should throttle you” She scoffed, finally letting go of his head.
Dean could’ve sworn he saw tears welling up in her eyes. "Hey, it's just hair," Dean said with a shrug, running a hand through his freshly-cut locks. "It'll grow back." He chuckled, trying to mask the disappointment he felt at her reaction to his new haircut. Although, he kind of knew how much she loved his long hair.
“You look amazing either way, Dean” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “But- the boy band look” She whined lightly with a bit of a pout. Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he saw the pout on her face. "Ah, come on, don't give me that look,” he said, gently poking her in the forehead. “I promise, it’ll grow back” He said with a small smile.
Y/N swatted his hand away playfully, shooting him a glare with no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky I don’t hate it” She scoffed, picking a few of the groceries from the porch. “Oh, so you’re saying you don’t hate it?” Dean teased, grabbing the rest of the groceries before following her into the house, a smirk on his face.
“That means you kinda like it?” Placing a hand on his forehead and pretending to swoon. Y/N snorted, rolling her eyes as they placed the groceries down on the counter. “Not hating and liking something is a very broad line” She retorted.
"But it still falls under the category of you not completely hating my new haircut," Dean pointed out with a smirk as he started to put away the groceries. "So technically, this still means you like it." Y/N mocked his words in a high pitched tone before asking, “What do you want for dinner?”
Dean chuckled at her mockery of his words, chucking a roll of paper towels at her, before answering her question. which she easily dodged. "I don't know. I picked up some stuff to make tacos."
She smiled, knowing that he loved the way she made tacos. She made them perfectly every time, just how he liked them. “And let me guess? Pie?” She mused with a knowing grin.
Dean smirked back at her, grabbing a pot from the cupboard. “Of course. Pie’s my true love.” He joked, but there was a hint of truth to his words. He did love his pie almost as much as he loved the woman standing in front of him.
Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes at his response. "I knew that would be your answer. You're so predictable." She teased, opening up the fridge and grabbing the ingredients for their dinner. "Hey, hey, I'm not predictable," Dean protested, feigning indignation.
"I'll have you know I'm a man of mystery" He said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. Y/N snorted as she took out a pack of ground beef from the fridge. “Dean, the only thing mysterious about you is how the hell do your socks smell so nasty?” She cackled, tossing her head back.
“Don’t knock the funk, babe.” Dean protested, holding a hand over his heart as if she had offended him. “And it’s called manly pheromones. Women dig it.” Y/N grimaced at him, pressing a hand to her chest “As a woman, from Planet Actual Woman. We don’t” She whispered the last part, flashing him a sly wink.
Dean let out a mock gasp of shock. "You don't?" He asked incredulously, putting on a wounded expression. “Then how do you explain all the times you’ve stolen my shirts?” Y/N’s eyes widened, she quickly reached for the pack of new paper towels, tossing it at him.
“Nice aim, sweetheart," Dean chuckled, easily dodging the paper towels again. Y/N just shot him a middle finger aimed in his direction, mumbling something about ‘lacing his tacos with laxatives’.
When she turned away from him, her cheeks were burning red at the fact that he caught her red handed. But she quickly schooled the act, so he didn’t notice.
💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️💇🏻‍♂️
Author's Note: This one has been in my drafts for a few days now and I’m finally letting it see light lol.
Hope everyone likes it!!
Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19
@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester
@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle
@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy
@hey-its-zoe-blog @modiddys-blog
Xoxo
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dreadfuldrip · 24 hours
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The space between words
∼∼Confessions left unspoken
or
Trying to get into the worst Wolverine's pants :>
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Logan Howlett x GN!Reader
a/n: This should be the first part of a 2(?) part series, so stay tuned.
CW: MDNI, GN!Reader, implied age gap, implied sexual content, alcohol consumption, reader gets called pretty thing, no use of y/n
Wade will be the death of you. 
Seated at the kitchen table while Wade and Logan's return party ensues behind you, you have found yourself listening to Wade's mindless blabber. The man can not shut up about Vanessa. Having been Wade's neighbour and friend for the last decade, you're used to it. 
"-and her ass christ, if I could give it an award, it'd be called 'most likely to cause distracted walking.' Seriously, it's like a work of art- I'm just waiting for the Louvre to call-"
As you pretend to listen to Wade's girl problems, your eye snags on Logan sitting alone on the couch as he nurses a beer. Hunched over with his elbows resting on either knee, he gazes off into nothing, utterly oblivious to your stare. You watch as Logan's thumb makes idle circles on the side of his drink, your mind drifting elsewhere as you wonder how it would feel to have his fingers circling something else. You nearly curse from the view as he places down his can to stretch out his back, reaching up over his head and inadvertently tugging up his shirt to expose a thick happy trail and muscled midriff. 
Realizing you aren't paying attention, Wade turns to see what's caught your attention before spinning around and letting out a dramatic gasp.
"How long have you been eye-fucking peanut over there? And here I thought we were having a genuine connection!" Wade exclaims, looking half bewildered and talking far too loudly for your liking.
"Shut the fuck up," you hiss, eyes nearly bugging out of your skull. "Besides, what kind of 'connection' comes from talking about your ex for the last 2 hours? I haven't even had time to go try to actually fuck Wolfie over there, thanks to your sorry ass." You retort, watching as Wade forms a look of mock insult and clutches at his chest. 
"I'm hurt, pumpkin, leading me on when I thought the whole ex thing was gonna get me some tonight." He pouts before standing and placing his hand on his forehead in faux distress. 
"Don't let me distract you from your staring, but please let me know if you two are looking for a third. Always wanted to see if the Wolverine really is huge down under." He says, smirking at you before practically dancing into the room you last saw Vanessa disappear into. 
Music is still playing from a speaker somewhere, but as you look around the room, you notice that most friends have either found a room to crash in or have left for the evening. Fuck, the evening is starting to look like yet another drinking alone with nothing but your hand to please you. With a sigh, you glance over to where you last saw Logan, only to realize he's already looking at you. You watch as he tips back the last of his beer and walks towards where you are seated in the kitchen, presumably to grab another from the fridge.
You speak up as Logan nears the kitchen and reaches to toss out his empty. 
"So, you calling it quits, or can we find somewhere else to be?" You ask, resting your head on your hand and staring up at Logan.
Logan chuckles softly at the invite, turning his back to you for a second to grab another beer before facing you again. 
"I'm far too old for you, bub." He replies, cracking a can and taking a swig.
You feel your cheeks heat up at the dismissal. If this were any other man, you would move on and find someone else to spend the night with. But something about Logan drives you crazy, boiling you down to your most primal needs. Not accepting failure so quickly, you try again.
"Oh, come on, Logan. A couple of drinks at the dive down the street never killed anyone. It's just your vibe, dark, gloomy, and has a certain characteristic to it very few enjoy." You tease, standing to shrug on a light jacket and looking back at him expectantly. 
"You coming? Don't make me find some lonely creep to keep me company while there." 
Maybe it was just your imagination, but something like jealousy flashed in Logan's eye as you spoke. Something about what you said set him in motion, tugging on his jacket before holding the door for you.
Having spent most of the walk to the bar in comfortable silence, you guide Logan through the doors of your favourite bar. Inside, the classic red lights and LED signs greet you, a couple of lonely strangers loitering around the bar counter. 
Taking Logan's hand, you guide both of you towards the bar before heading towards a booth away from the strangers. You let go of Logan's hand to sit down, expecting him to sit across the table from you. To your surprise, he sits beside you. Your thighs brush together in the small booth, Logan's large frame taking up most of the space. 
"Never thought a pretty thing like you would like this kinda place," Logan grunts, drinking from his glass before turning to face you. "Not like the beer is any good."
At this proximity, you can see the specks of gold in his brown eyes and faint scars littering his face. Pretty thing. Your cheeks feel hot under his gaze; you can only imagine how red your face is. 
"They have live music on Wednesdays and Fridays; you never know what you'll get, but it's usually a good time. Wade told me you like this sorta place, so I thought I'd bring you around." You shrug, looking at the table to avoid his gaze.
You hear Logan let out a chuckle. "Are you taking dating advice from Wade? Didn't think anyone would stoop that low. Can't say whatever you're doing ain't workin' though." He returns the glass to his mouth; now it's his turn to avoid your eye.
Butterflies well up in your stomach at his words, the way he blatantly called out your bluff. His eyes are filled with something between hunger and mischief when he meets your gaze over his glass.
"This is going to be a fun night, Logan Howlett."
Logan doesn't reply to you, instead giving you a grin and finishing off his glass.
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xuchiya · 2 days
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I don't know what's up with me but maybe this is my way of getting out of my writer's block so .. enjoy a new drabble.
fluff. newlywed!wooyoung
they said when its your wedding, its just you and your husband's being the main character for the rest of your life and just a day on your relative, parents and friends lives.
a day everyone will remember.
so when the DJ announces about the newly wed to dance. you were blinded by the multiple lights at you, placing a hand on your eyes to shield from the brightness; noticing wooyoung emerging from the audience after speaking with his friends.
you smile at him, noticing how he had remove his coat and the sleeve of his white shirt rolled up to his elbow. He extended his hand, the other on his back.
"May I, my dear?" You place your hand on his as he guides you in the middle of the middle of the dance floor. He raise your hand on shoulder level, placing his other around your waist as he pulls you close to him. You were taken back but tou settle comfortably in his arks, placing your free arm around his shoulder blades.
No matter how long you both have been together, intimate he is— you will never get used to his warmth radiating so close to yours that it flutter your heart and pains your cheekbones from the big smile on your lips.
"For better or worst, til' death do us part. I'll love you with every beat of my heart." He dance you both in a slow dance, eyes remaining on yours as he speaks. Your heart once again, fluttering with adoration.
"And I swear." You knew he speaks with his heart and he meant every word and that reassures you, settles a comfort blanket on your relatioship.
You run your hand on his bangs, admiring every inch of him.
"I swear. By the moon and stars in the sky, I'll be there." You murmur, placing your head on his shoulder. He hums, a smile on his lips. Wooyoung looks down, kissing the top of your head, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before grabbing you, lifting you off of your feet as he spun you both around.
"Woo~!" He place you back down on your feet. Hand each on your cheek, staring at you. He leans in, his lips fits on yours as it move in a short second before he pulls away but not removing his forehead on yours.
Closing his eyes as he breathes in the reality. married happily to you, his long life partner and his ride or die.
"I swear." He whispers to you.
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links-in-time · 10 hours
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This short fic was inspired by the gorgeous artwork of @maesonc-artistic-adventures. I had this idea after seeing this drawing and had to write it down.
Fierce Protector
Link groaned as he regained consciousness. Then gasped and groaned again as the wound in his side sent bolts of lightning shooting up and down his torso. Instead of trying to get up, he let himself fall back down so he could assess his situation. 
Wound, check. Did he remember how he got it? That part was a little hazy at the moment. Where was he? Link opened his eyes and looked around. To his left and directly above him were natural stone walls. An overhang at the bottom of a cliff maybe. To his right he could see grass and the roots of trees. 
Everything was illuminated by the soft flickering of fire light. Beyond the golden haze, Link could see the blanket of night surrounding their campsite. Above the trees he could see a few stars occasionally veiled by clouds. 
However, what was most concerning of all, besides his wound, he seemed to be alone. Everything was quiet. Only the occasional pop and crackle of the fire interrupted the stillness of the night. Link would have expected to hear the conversations or gentle snores of his brothers around him. Yet there was nothing. 
Panic began to reach into his usually logical mind. He was injured and alone. He had no idea where he was, or where the rest of his brothers were. Not an ideal situation on any day. 
“You're awake, that's good.”
A voice made Link start and he instinctively reached for his hidden knife. But to his dismay it wasn't there. The stretch also aggravated his wound, pulling at it painfully. Link clenched his teeth and pushed through the pain in order to sit up. He managed to get himself propped up on one elbow. Giving him a better view of the little campsite. 
What he saw nearly made him fall down again. The Fierce Deity sat on a log on the other side of the fire, staring at him with those blank white eyes. The amber light from the fire cast strange shadows across the beings face, shifting and jumping as though he were moving. But the Deity remained motionless, staring unblinking at Link. 
“You, what… What are you doing here? How long have you had Time?” Link demanded, summoning his courage and wishing he had something for the pain. 
“I have occupied this vessel for many hours while you remained unconscious. He summoned me in order to protect you.” The Deity replied calmly, his voice level, almost bored. 
“Will you let him go now? There's no danger here,” Link asked just as calmly. 
If experience dealing with the Fierce Deity had taught him anything, it was never to rile it up. Friends could quickly become enemies if they said or did something the Deity didn't like. For now however, he had said he was protecting Link. Also that Time had instructed him to do so. He needed more information. 
“What happened to me?” He implored. “Why did Time use the mask?”
“There was a battle. Your forces were divided. You and the one you call Time were hampered in your efforts to reach your comrades. An enemy breached your defenses and wounded you. While you lay helpless this vessel donned my mask and begged me to protect you. I did so.”
“Thank you,” Link said, bowing his head a little for added reverence. “Do you know what happened to the rest of our friends?”
“I know nothing of your party. Link gave no instructions regarding them.”
Not good. Link needed to find the others and make sure they were all safe. However, if the Deity had decided to act on an instruction from Time, it would usually follow it to the letter. And then some. Getting it to change its mind and let Link go and search for the others would be no small task. Getting it to release its hold on his little brother was tantamount to impossible. 
“Is there still danger?” Link asked, trying to broach the subject carefully. 
“The monsters have been slain,” the Deity replied simply. As though this was a stupid question. 
“Then you were successful in completing the request Time asked of you.” Link noted, trying to make him understand. 
The Deity nodded. 
“Now that you have fulfilled your task, will you see your way to giving Time-Link, back his self?”
Link held his breath. This was always the difficult part. During the war young Time had used the Fierce Deity mask countless times during battle. Sometimes he could take it off easily, as though it really was just a child's mask. But after prolonged battles, sometimes the Deity would still sense danger towards his host. On those days Link would sit with the powerful being and gently convince him to let his little brother go. So far he hadn't failed him. 
“You are still injured. Your pack is empty of healing items.”
Great. Time was going to be trapped as long as Link was out of action. Now being away from the others was a big problem. If Rulie, or any of the others were there, they could heal him and the Deity could be free of his responsibilities. 
“I remember you being far more capable when we met before,” the Deity continued. 
Link was surprised. He knew the Deity was an incredibly intelligent being, but he had always assumed that it didn't really pay attention to Time's life and the people around him. 
“What are you talking about?” Link asked, frowning in indignation. 
“Your talents for planning and strategy have slipped. The young man I remember would not have allowed today's events to happen at all.”
“I planned as best as I could,” Link protested. 
“You did not account for yourself and Time being separated from the others. That is why you failed to win the battle on your own merit.”
“I…” Link faltered. 
He couldn't really argue with the Deity’s statement. He hadn't factored the Chain getting separated into his battle plan. It was his fault Time was now stuck inside that damn mask. 
“You're right. I should have planned better. I suppose I've come to rely on my brothers knowing what they're doing. I don't have to marshal them the same way I used to command my soldiers.”
“They are children, children need a firm hand.”
“They're far more than children,” Link argued. “Time was little more than a child when I met him, yet you never said anything about his age. In fact,” Link paused. “I think this is the longest conversation you and I have ever had.”
“It is true you and I have not spoken at length before. You have always feared my presence,” the Deity stated. 
“I never feared you,” Link lied. “I was afraid you would never let my brother go. Just as I am now.”
“You truly care for this vessel don't you?” 
“He's not a vessel, and yes. I love him like he's my own blood.”
“Sentiment is a weakness,” The Deity asserted, dropping its gaze to the fire for the first time. 
“No it's not, it's a strength. Loyalty and love are what bind us together. Without that we'd all be fighting amongst ourselves. Everything good in the world would disappear. Surely even a warrior such as yourself can understand that?”
The Deity didn't respond, just continued to stare into the softly flickering flames. Link realised then that he had got the Deity talking. Not just about Time, but about its own thoughts and feelings. Perhaps this could be an opportunity to learn more about this ancient God. 
“You can see into your host's mind. Can't you see that he would agree with me?” 
“This incarnation of the hero does agree with your sentiment. He believes that goodness and love will always triumph over evil.” He paused, blinking slowly for the first time. “But he does not know the truth.”
“What truth?” Link asked. 
“How even the most simple, trusting folk, can fear their own savior. How millenia ago, before there were heroes and princesses, the gods walked the earth. I was one such being, a fierce warrior who defended people from marauding monsters and evil humans. Yet not all believed my strength to be a blessing. Some of the other gods feared me, feared my single mindedness. My loyalty blinded me and I was tricked. Trapped and bound for all eternity. Even as I possess this Hylian, I am not free.”
“But you must still believe in loyalty. Otherwise you wouldn't have done what Time asked. You wouldn't have protected me and brought me to safety. And I'm very grateful to you for that.”
There was a long pause as both Link and the god possessing his brother absorbed each other's words. After a while the Deity stood and stared down at Link. 
“I must check the perimeter. If all is well by morning, I shall release your brother to you.”
“Thank you,” Link nodded. 
Without another word the Fierce Deity turned and walked away from the rock face. As the glow of his white hair disappeared into the trees, Link laid back down on the ground. He may not have succeeded in getting Time back just yet, but he felt like he had achieved something else. The Fierce Deity had opened up to him. Had told him a little of the history concerning the mask. They were similar in more ways than he had ever imagined. Perhaps in future, he would not need to be so cautious when dealing with the ancient being. 
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withahappyrefrain · 1 hour
Note
mmm i’m thinking “When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?” with our beloved bobby. he’s very serious about face sitting, y’know 😌
He does!!!! Especially older BF! Bob ☺️☺️☺️ slight daddy kink at the end!
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"You want me to what?" Surely, he couldn't have said what you thought he said.
Just moments ago, your limbs were tangled with your boyfriend's, hips jerking against one another. Bob's request made you stop in your tracks.
"I think you heard me darlin'," there was a twinkle in his eyes. Dare you say it, it looked almost mischievous. His normally bright blue eyes had darkened.
"Bob, if I sit on you, I'll cr-"
"When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?" The sternness of his deep voice made your thighs clench. Bob extended his arms out, motioning you to grab his hands.
With shaking legs, you began to move up Bob's body.
"No one's ever asked you to do this, have they?" You shook your head and Bob could feel his cock twitch. Why every partner of yours has treated you like shit was beyond him.
But he was delighted that he would be the first (and hopefully last) person to show you this way of pleasure.
"That's it, atta girl," He encourages as your core gets closer to his face.
His obscenely large hands grip your thighs, kneading the soft flesh, "Fuckin' love these thighs."
"Really?" It was a genuine question. You were used to people focusing on your tits and ass.
"'Course I do. So fucking soft but I know they could crush me if you tried," He places soft kisses up your thighs, gentle bites leaving you gasping, gripping the bedframe for some stability.
"Then there's this sweet lil' pussy," long fingers skim your soaked folds, eliciting a whimper. You didn't question him this time; when it came to your cunt, Bob would worship. He made that known early on.
He gets up on his elbows, placing a kiss dangerously close to your clit, "Fuck, she's already so wet for me. You excited sweet girl?"
You nodded, trying to muster up all the available strength you had so as to not collapse from his words, "Y-yes sir."
The title earns a low growl from Bob, your thighs clenching at the sound. He could probably see it but you weren't concerned. Despite being in such a vulnerable position, you felt mostly at ease.
Except for the fact you had no idea what you were doing.
As if Bob could sense it, he placed his hands on your thighs, "Alright, y'gonna lower yourself slowly, okay sweet girl?"
You nodded, following his instructions.
Bob usually was patient, it was one of the many qualities that helped him become an Admiral. But the sight of your soaked core, just dying to be touched, made him lose all sense of the trait.
His mouth eagerly latched onto your cunt, tongue exploring every inch of you. A loud moan vibrated off the walls of his bedroom. Your fingers gripped the wooden bed frame tightly as Bob's tongue lapped up your arousal.
His hands moved to your ass, gripping the ample flesh. Bob would be the first to admit he was addicted to your taste, to you. If Bob could spend the rest of his life pleasing you, he'd die a happy man.
You found your hips rocking back and forth. Immediately, you stilled them. After all, that would be too much, right?
"Don't stop," Bob murmurs, his voice slightly muffled, "I gotcha baby."
The pet name made you weak both in the knees and the heart. How could one man be simultaneously so hot but also so fucking sweet?
Beginning the motions again, one hand moves down to grip Bob's sun kissed locks. He hums in approval, vibrating against your core. His tongue alternated from exploring your entrance to sucking your throbbing clit. As he continued his ministrations, you found yourself unable to keep your voice level down, the room echoing with your moans.
Perks of owning a house, don't have to worry about noise complaints.
Every time his buttoned nose brushed against your clit, it sent you closer and closer to the edge. You tried to slow your hips, but thanks to his grip on your ass, Bob was able to move with you ease.
"Bob-Bobby, I'm close," your voice was desperate, almost pathetic. You hardly recognized it.
And yet, you felt no shame. Gone were the days of being overly self conscious during sex. You had Bob now, who made you feel safe.
Still, it was a shock when he continued his ministrations, rather than lift you off. Your hips now had a mind of their own, rocking against Bob's face in an attempt to chase the high that was just within reach.
When you looked down, the sight below you took your breath away.
Blue eyes half closed in pleasure, hands kneading your soft thighs, sandy brown hair disheveled, some strands having fallen over his forehead. His mouth greedily devouring you.
He looked beautiful. He looked like he was getting just as much pleasure out of this as you, maybe even more.
Your head lolled backwards as white hot pleasure coursed through your body. Your hands gripped his hair, hips rocking erratically.
His name echoed off the walls, his moans mixing with yours.
"Fuck! D-daddy!" The nickname slipped out. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about ever since you and Bob started dating. It was just the concept of bringing it up that you were still figuring out.
A downright feral growl escaped Bob's lips. The next thing you knew, you were lying on your back, Bob's hard cock teasing your soaked entrance.
"Say it," he growled, "Say it again."
"Daddy?" Bob sharply inhaled through his nose, his cock swiftly entering and filling you completely.
"Daddy!"
Bob panted in your ear, his hips driving into yours at a feral pace.
Now that he had you, he was never letting you go.
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Note
Hi! Can I ask for prompt 12?
Yo sorry for the long wait, here it is! Thank you for requesting!
Prompt list is here
Summary: Astarion gets drunk enough to finally sit down and do more than just flirt with you (by that I mean he talks to you)
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Getting drunk was never on Astarion's agenda, yet here he was, giddy from the combination of wine and bear's blood he'd just inhaled while you continued to sip from your cup, watching amused as he stumbles towards you.
"Ah, just the person I wanted to see. It's been far too long, darling, since we last talked."
"It's been half an hour."
"Still, darling. Far too long." He seats himself beside you rather unsteadily, gripping your arm. You can smell the wine on his breath as he leans in, fangs peeking out. Swallowing when he comes way too close, you gently try to push him away but he refuses to budge, instead burying his face into your neck and inhaling your scent.
"Astarion," you say warily. "You're drunk."
"Am I now, darling?" He laughs, trailing his fingers along your arm. "I don't think so."
"Astarion, I'm not going to —"
"Not going to?" He smiles, an index finger along your chin. His other hand moves towards the laces on his shirt, clumsily undoing them.
"I'm not going to take advantage of you." You firmly pull his shirt back up, covering the collarbone he just undressed. You push your cup away and rise from your seat, leading him away by the arm. All the while, he giggles, lavishing you with words of temptation but you ignore him, nudging him into his tent.
"Oh, here?" He grins, lying on the bedroll you gave him some time ago. He rests on his elbows, looking up at you and wiggles his eyebrows. You sit next to him, much to his surprise and he turns to face you, still propping himself up by the elbow. More honeyed words rest on the tip of his tongue but you never give him a chance to say them.
"No, not here." You shake your head, and he gets even more confused. Why then did you bring him to his tent, away from prying eyes? What did you want from him that required the both of you coming to his tent? Maybe his charms weren't working on you well enough, maybe you were just testing him, seeing how good he was at flirting. Well, he was about to show you just how good he was at this.
"The gods were showing off when they made you, darling, because you're the very definition of perfection." He purrs, leaning in closer until your lips are but mere inches apart and you pull back violently, pushing him backwards. He lets out a yelp as his back hits the floor and your eyes widen.
"I'm so sorry Astarion! I didn't mean to push you that hard!" There's panic in your voice, why? It won't be the first time his bedside partner has been rough with him, in fact he's quite used to it. He just needs to picture an empty space, pretend like he's floating and all the pain will fade away into a dull throb. He won't complain about the roughness, as long as you're happy he's happy…he thinks.
"Didn't know you liked it rough, my dear. You don't seem like the type, but I suppose appearances can be quite deceiving." He continues to upkeep the fake smile, but a small fear has started to grip him. In his drunken state, he's far less concerned about what happens tonight since he'll likely forget all about it the next morning but he'd rather not suffer too badly.
"I — I said I'm sorry! I don't — I'm not going to sleep with you alright? You're drunk and clearly not in the right state of mind, doing anything that requires consent would only be taking advantage of you." You desperately shake your head, shifting further away from him. "I only brought you here so that you'd be safe."
You look away, curling up into a ball and Astarion knows you're embarrassed. It's a habit of yours, one of the many he's noticed over the course of your journey together and in all honesty, he finds it cute. You remain curled in a ball even after you've finished being embarrassed and it then hits — you really don't want to sleep with him. All this while, you've remained on one side of the bedroll, never once entering his personal space. He's the one who has been going into your personal space, even though he too would rather not sleep with you if possible.
His mind hazy, he lies there, staring up at the ceiling of the tent in confusion. Most of his clients liked it when he was drunk, it meant he was more pliable, didn't resist as much, and they were free to do whatever they wanted to him. You, you were different. You wanted his consent before you did anything, wanted to know his opinion if the little incident with Araj was any indication. This was new to Astarion, at least he thinks it's new. Centuries of torture would erase all memories of the time before said torture, and memories of those centuries of torture are mostly a blur.
The wine has loosened his tongue tonight, and he dares to ask questions he would never have otherwise.
"Why do you keep me around?"
You look up, blinking. His gaze remains fixed on you through the silence, searching desperately for an answer.
"For your company, of course."
"Why me? Why not Karlach, or Wyll, or Shadowheart? They have so much more to offer, even Lae'zel. Why not them? The only thing I can offer…is something you won't even take from me." He whispers the last part. Fear gnaws away at him, the need to understand you wholly so that he can avoid your wrath tearing him apart, and his confusion isn't helping in the slightest. Whenever he was confused about Cazador's actions, it never bode well for him, and he was afraid the same would happen with you.
"Because they're not you. None of them have the sass that you have, none of them are as fun to be around as you are, none of them…are well…like you at all." You shrug, smiling softly at him. "I like spending time with you, whether it's talking or just sitting in silence. I enjoy your company, really I do, and we don't need to sleep with each other to spend time together."
"You…do?"
"Mmhm." You nod. He stares at you blankly, his mind struggling to find deception in your words but it comes up empty. You mean it, you mean everything you say. You aren't lying to him, not that you've ever done so. The edges of his vision blur and something wet trails down his cheek, causing him to quickly turn away before you catch sight of it.
"Do you want me to stay?" Your voice is soft, gentle, and full of concern.
"Please." He chokes. "I…enjoy your company as well."
"That's a relief," you chuckle. "Maybe we should…keep each other company more often."
"That sounds…nice."
"It's a deal then. Rest well, I'll be here when you wake up."
"Thank you."
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ultravionna · 2 days
Text
rascals, saints, & inspirations ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ
𐙚 matt dillon x younger.ᐟreader꒱
warnings: age-gap relationship, smut, swearing here and there, painter references (i'm such a geek), um can't think of any other warnings so that's it ig.ᐟ
a/n: first ever smut fic so go easy on me, i kinda like it it's cute lmao
⤷ *based on request linked here* ༉‧₊˚✧
the air in matt's studio was thick with the smell of paint and varnish, the kind that stuck to your clothes long after you'd left. it was a quiet space, hidden away in the upper west side, where the noise of the city barely reached you could hear the faint hum of traffic, but in here, it was just the two of you. he was working on something when you walked in, his back to you, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing those forearms you loved. his hair was slightly messy, and the focus on his face made you hesitate to disturb him. almost.
"you've been at it all day," you teased, stepping closer, letting your fingers glide along the edge of the wooden table covered with brushes, palettes, and half-finished canvases.
matt turned to you with a half-smile, but his eyes had that look-you knew that look well. it was the same one he gave when he'd pick you up from the airport, that quiet hunger hidden beneath soft chuckles and smooth words.
"could say the same about you," he muttered, eyes flicking to the phone you'd left on the table. you rolled your eyes, leaning against the table, crossing your arms. "i don't spend all my time editing."
he didn't reply, at least not with words. instead, he crossed the small space between you with a few easy strides, his hand finding your waist, pulling you closer with a gentleness that didn't match the heat in his eyes.
without warning, his hand slid under your shirt, fingers tracing your skin like he was painting something only he could see.
"matt-"
"c'mon…" he smirked, pulling you closer. "y'know i could use a little inspiration."
you groaned, feeling his cool fingers brush the small of your back as he looked down at you, eyes narrowed. "just don't get paint on my shirt, i have to film a brand deal before noon." you said, earning a sarcastic exhale and raised eyebrow from matt.
"uh huh." he dismissed, his arm wrapping around your waist, his right hand lifting to gently cradle the side of your face as he leaned in.
"matt, i'm serious.." you warned softly, but he kissed you before you could finish, his lips gentle but familiar, the kind that made you forget whatever you were going to say next. you melted into him, your hands resting against his chest.
he grumbled at the feel of your hands on him, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, keeping it slow, deliberate, and full of need. his hand moved to the side of your neck, gently holding you in place as the kiss grew more passionate by the second.
he could feel your body yielding against his, and it only fueled the heat between you. he deepened the kiss further, his tongue exploring your mouth with a slow, sensual hunger. his hand held your neck as he pulled you flush against him, guiding you back toward the sink, his other hand resting on your hip. breaking the kiss, his warm breath mingled with yours as he spoke.
"turn around for me."
turning around, your hands found the edge of the wooden table, fingertips grazing over the scattered art supplies. his current canvas lay just in front of you, half-finished, as if it were watching the scene unfold.
matt's eyes darkened with hunger as you followed his lead. he stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back, his hips aligned with yours. his hands roamed your body, exploring your curves with a slow, deliberate touch as he leaned in, his breath hot against the nape of your neck. he planted a soft kiss there before murmuring in that low voice.
"my good girl…"
you hummed softly at his praise, a small smirk tugging at your lips as he kissed your neck again. you shifted just slightly, pushing back against him, making matt chuckle against your skin. one of his hands left your waist, and the sound of him undoing his pants filled the quiet studio.
his breath hitched when you pressed into him, heat rising between the two of you. he chuckled again, lips still grazing the back of your neck as he teased, "eager?"
his grip on your hip loosened as his hands worked to undo your jeans, fingers tracing the soft skin of your thighs as he pulled the fabric down, letting it rest just above your knees. he left them there, enough to get what he wanted.
"maybe if you were free earlier like you said, i could've given you all the inspiration you needed," you quipped slyly.
your body moved beneath his touch, and matt growled softly against your skin, nipping at your neck as you spoke.
"teasing me, hm?"
his hands continued exploring your exposed skin, fingers brushing lightly over the sensitive spots on your thighs. he leaned down, his mouth close to your ear, breath hot against your skin. "i should punish you for that…"
you placed a hand on the table, looking back at him with a smirk. "punish? you think rembrandt had time to punish his muses between all those self-portraits? i bet he was more disciplined than that." matt smirked, pressing his body closer to yours, his hand sliding over yours on the table.
"oh, you think rembrandt controlled his muses? the guy dressed up in costumes just to amuse himself. trust me, he'd have taken a break for you." as he spoke, his other hand slid your tiny thong up to rest above your jeans. you leaned back against him, a quiet laugh escaping your lips.
"yeah? well, he was meticulous, wasn't he? you're always telling me how much he paid attention to the details. can you really call yourself an artist if you're not doing the same?"
matt pulled you closer by the hip, raising an eyebrow, "details, huh?" he murmured. his hand skimmed over your hip bone, voice low in your ear.
"let's talk about how rembrandt layered his oils, slowly, with patience. think you can handle that kind of pace?"
with that, matt took hold of himself behind you, lining up at your entrance, pressing just enough to slip in slightly before pulling back, teasing you with the slow rhythm.
you let out a little hum, fighting the grin that always seemed to come so easily with him.
"i'd say i'm more of a van gogh-impulsive, erratic, cutting right to the heart of it…" matt growled playfully, tightening his grip on you.
"careful, i might end up painting you like he did — bold, wild, unapologetic… unfinished." he quipped, pressing the tip of himself against you again, this time pushing in deeper with a force that made you hum, your body welcoming him easily.
"unfinished? you really think van gogh would've left his muse unfinished?" you teased, adjusting to the familiar stretch of him inside you.
matt pressed you further into the table, sinking deeper as his breath caught in his throat.
"van gogh might not have, but i'm not him. besides… i don't have to finish right away-fuck… i like taking my time."
the curse slipped from him like a low growl, and it sent a shiver through you, your body reacting instinctively, tightening around him as he started to move with slow, deliberate strokes.
he withdrew partially, then pushed back in, his grip on your hip tightening as he set a steady pace, each thrust deep and measured.
you let out a soft, breathless sigh, one hand gripping the edge of the wooden table while the other found its way to his face, your fingers brushing against his jaw as he breathed heavily against your neck. his breath was even, save for the little hitches when you clenched around him, reminding him of just how good you felt.
"mmh… guess i should thank you for not being as busy as picasso… he'd have me waiting… days just… for a sketch," you muttered between breaths, a soft hum escaping as matt placed a series of open-mouthed kisses along your neck.
his lips trailed toward your shoulder, and you felt the corner of his mouth curve into a smirk as he let out a small, amused breath. "nah, you'd be his masterpiece… but trust me, i'm a lot better at finishing what i start."
his words were accompanied by the gentle squeeze of his hand as it slid from yours up your arm to your shoulder, holding you firmly, while the other hand stayed gripping your hip, his hips pressing against you with a steady determination.
matt's pace picked up gradually, each thrust driving deeper, more deliberate, the sound of skin against skin filling the studio as he pulled you closer with every stroke. your fingers gripped the edge of the table harder, your breath coming out in shallow pants as the pressure built inside you. he groaned softly against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin between kisses, the warmth of his breath sending chills down your spine.
"you feel so good," he murmured, his voice a low rasp, rougher now with need. his grip on your hip tightened as his other hand moved to your stomach, pulling you back into him with each thrust, making sure you felt every inch of him. your body responded in kind, arching back into him, seeking more, wanting all of him.
your head fell back slightly, resting against his shoulder as his movements became more insistent.
"matt" you breathed out, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. he always did. he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck.
"you like that, don't you?" he asked, his tone teasing, but his hips never faltered, keeping the rhythm steady, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.
matt's hands slid from your waist up to your shoulders, pressing you forward, your chest now flush against the table. his grip tightened as he pushed down slightly, creating that delicious tension in your body. your hand, searching for balance, knocked over a few brushes in the process, and they clattered onto the table, landing on a nearby flat surface.
before you could process the mess, matt's thrusts grew more intense, forcing your body to press harder against the table-and more specifically-his painting. wet paint smeared across your shirt, and his canvas, hours of his careful work, was smudged in a frenzy of color and texture.
"matt.." you whispered, your eyes darting to the ruined painting beneath you, but the word was barely audible, drowned by the moan that escaped your lips as his movements deepened. the sensation of being so thoroughly claimed by him overrode everything else, and your voice trembled as you gripped the edge of the table.
he pulled you back against his chest, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips. "that's it… oh fuck, that's it…" he groaned, his voice strained and desperate, as though he was teetering on the edge of losing control. what the fuck?
you furrowed your brow, a brief thought flickering in your mind. "matt… you're coming that fast?" you asked, your voice breathless, genuinely curious how he was so close already when it usually took more time.
he chuckled, though his breath was ragged, his words coming out in a heated rush. "god. no. the painting… it's beautiful… fuck… maybe." his chest heaved as he fought for control, hovering on the verge of completely unraveling.
you turned your head, glancing down at the painting, now a blur of colors and shapes. where your chest and hands had smeared across it, the once-detailed image had become something abstract, chaotic-but somehow… stunning. you couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh, caught between the mess you'd made and the pleasure building in your core.
matt's hands roamed your body again, one sliding down to grip your waist while the other found its way to your lower back, adding more pressure as he thrust deeper into you, your top, completely ruined by the wet paint, clung to your skin, and each motion smeared the vibrant colors further across your chest. his hips collided with yours, the intensity of his pace increasing, matching the heat between you both.
you were practically melting under his touch, but you couldn't stop staring at the canvas beneath you. the accidental smears and handprints somehow made the piece look… alive, raw, like it held a kind of reckless beauty you'd never seen in matt's work before.
he pressed his forehead against the back of your neck, his breath hot and uneven. "fuck… look at what you've done," he whispered, his tone almost reverent, a mixture of awe and desire. "it's like… you were supposed to touch it."
you moaned softly at his words, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you looked at the painting again, the messy beauty of it sinking in.
"maybe i should ruin your work more often…" you teased, but your voice faltered as matt's hand moved from your back to grip your shoulder, pulling you even closer.
he let out a low growl, his hips driving into you with renewed fervor. "don't tempt me," he breathed against your ear, his grip tightening as if he was trying to keep control, though you could feel him unraveling with each thrust.
the rhythm between you quickened, and with every thrust, matt's hands tightened on you, as if he were trying to hold onto this moment forever. the world outside faded away, the only sounds filling the studio were the slapping of skin against skin and the breathy moans escaping your lips. you could feel his heat, his urgency, and it sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, drowning out everything else.
with one final, deep thrust, matt let out a low groan, his body shuddering against yours as he reached his peak. a moment of bliss washed over you both, the culmination of passion and art merging in a way that felt almost transcendent.
-
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youruser soo la voo or whatever
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yourfriendsuser ugh so hot
youruser wth watch the reels i sent u
mattdillon ma belle
youruser mon beau ;)
randomuserone hello???
randomusertwo matt's comment is cute why is everyone pressed omg
-
the next following thursday arrived with a buzz of excitement in the air. the gallery was set for the opening day of matt's exhibition, the walls adorned with his masterpieces, each canvas telling a story. the vibrant colors and intricate details sparkled under the gallery lights, drawing in the crowd eager to experience the world he had created. you stood beside him, your heart swelling with pride as you watched people admire his work, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips as you recalled the chaos that had led to this moment.
your phone buzzed again in your lap, but you barely glanced at it. the car rolled through the streets of paris, the gray buildings towering above, casting long shadows in the late afternoon sun. outside, the city moved at its usual pace-tourists snapping photos, locals rushing by with their coffee cups and baguettes, unaware of the little moment you were in.
after a whirlwind of brand deals and meetings, you finally had a moment to breathe. this was your first time in paris, and you wanted to soak in every bit of it. matt had sent a car for you, of course, because he wouldn't have it any other way. you smiled, remembering the way he insisted on it, as if you couldn't have figured out how to get to the gallery on your own. but that was just how he was-always making sure you had everything, making sure you were taken care of.
the car pulled up in front of ruttkowski;68, the art gallery's sleek facade reflecting the light in a way that made it almost glow. you thanked the driver, stepping out, your heels clicking softly against the pavement.
inside, it was quieter than you expected. a few people mingled around the pieces already on display, talking in low voices as they sipped champagne. but you barely noticed them. your eyes were scanning the room, looking for him.
and then you saw him, standing near one of the larger pieces-one of his, of course. he was mid-conversation with someone, but the moment his eyes met yours, he smiled. it was that quiet, knowing smile that said everything without saying anything at all.
you made your way over to him, weaving through the crowd, your heart picking up speed just a little. when you reached him, he greeted you with a soft kiss on the cheek, his hand resting lightly on your waist.
"you made it," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "of course i did," you replied, looking up at him with a grin. "you flew me out, remember?"
you and matt snickered softly, sharing little inside jokes as he led you around the gallery. he pointed out various pieces, some that you'd seen many times before and others that were new to you. each painting had a story, and you loved hearing him recount them with that passionate spark in his eyes. the way he talked about his work, how he poured his soul into every stroke, made you feel even more connected to him.
as you made your way back toward the front of the gallery, light small talk flowed naturally between you. you asked him about the inspiration for one piece, and he playfully bantered about how it was "just a phase" he was going through. you chuckled, rolling your eyes at his modesty, and he grinned, clearly enjoying the moment.
then, as the evening progressed, the speakers began to introduce him. you stepped back, a few feet away, wine glass in hand, watching as they handed him the microphone. he took a deep breath, and the room fell silent, everyone's attention on him. your heart swelled with pride as he spoke passionately about his exhibition, "rascals and saints." you couldn't help but admire the way he commanded the room, his words weaving a tapestry of emotion that resonated with everyone present.
after the applause faded, you made your way back to him, feeling a warm buzz from the wine. "i loved your speech," you said, a genuine smile spreading across your face.
“it’s the audience that deserves the credit," he replied with a wink. in a swift, discreet motion, he lightly tapped your bum, making you laugh. he leaned in, planting a quick kiss on your temple before holding your hip gently, guiding you toward a small group of people engaged in conversation.
"matt, who is this?" a woman asked, her eyes flicking to you with thinly veiled curiosity.
"this is my girlfriend," matt said, his tone casual, as if it wasn't a big deal at all, even though you could feel the slight tension that followed his words. a few of them exchanged looks, one man even smirking slightly, but matt just gave them one of those take scoffs, like he found it all amusing.
one of the older women spoke up, her french accent steady and posh as she lifted a hand to lightly touch matt's shoulder. "oh, she's lovely, dear. quite lovely indeed… yes," she praised, her eyes drifting as she scanned you from head to toe.
"just a tad bit young, i'm afraid. how old are you, dear?" she questioned, her voice low as her sunken blue eyes traced your face.
pardon my french, but what a nosy bitch, you thought to yourself.
"twenty-five, madame," you responded gracefully, giving the older woman a brief smile.
she looked shocked, appalled almost, covering up with a small laugh and placing a hand on her heart.
"oh, good heavens, she's still a baby," she joked, her tone light, but you could see matt's jaw tighten slightly as he tried to remain polite.
"it's about more than what meets the eye, for me," he said, his tone light, matching hers, but there was a sharpness there that you couldn't ignore.
then another person spoke up, a man who pointed his thumb toward the large painting hanging in the center of the wall. it was a striking piece-dark, grunge-like colors smudged with bright strokes that drew the eye in. you felt a flush of embarrassment remembering how you'd accidentally ruined it.
''the pulse of the city' is spectacular. what's your inspiration behind that?" the man asked.
matt let out a huff of a breath, bowing his head sheepishly as he thanked the guy for the praise.
"thank you, i can tell you in one simple word-chaos. let's go take a look at it, shall we?" he said, walking over to the painting, pointing out certain elements and key points that he described with an enthusiasm that was infectious.
as you stood there, fancy champagne in hand, matt's eyes met yours in the crowd, and ever so slightly, he winked and flashed you a knowing smile.
just like that, the tension shifted to something lighter as the conversation moved on to pieces in the gallery. you could still feel the weight of his words, the way he looked at you. it wasn't just about your age or what people might think. for him, it was more than that. and in that moment, you knew you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
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kangshxrtie · 3 days
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23 . photos . written
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you opened the door to see xinyu standing there with a faint smile, “took you long enough.”
raising an eyebrow, you leaned against the doorframe. “i can close the door and make you go back home.”
xinyu, always quick, slipped inside before you could even finish. “i was just selling the whole ‘crazy in love’ thing. gotta be convincing, right?”
you scoffed, but a smile was already tugging at your lips. “yeah, sure. well, you definitely convinced my neighbors i’m dating a psycho.”
xinyu put her bag down and threw herself onto your couch like she owned the place, stretching out. “still better than your last ex-girlfriend.”
rolling your eyes, you sat down next to her, shaking your head. “you’re way too comfortable here for a fake girlfriend.”
xinyu leaned closer, smirking as she dropped her voice. “who says it’s all fake?”
her words hung in the air for a second too long, making your heart skip a beat. you blinked, quickly brushing it off with a roll of your eyes. “don’t joke like that.”
xinyu chuckled, leaning back casually. “i’m just playing, practicing for later.”
“right...” you muttered, glancing away to avoid her gaze. “so, should we take photos while you’re here? for the plan?”
xinyu’s eyes lit up. “yes! nakyoung’s gonna lose her mind, and sohyun’s definitely watching too.”
you shot her a sideways glance. “and what about you? all this for sohyun, huh?”
for the briefest moment, xinyu hesitated, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place passing through her eyes. “i mean, that’s the point, right? to get our exes back?”
you nodded slowly, though something in her voice made you feel... off. “yeah... right.”
an awkward silence settled between you for a few seconds before xinyu, never one to let things stay quiet for too long, grinned playfully. “so, since i’m already here… what’s for dinner, girlfriend?”
without missing a beat, you grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it at her. “you can order takeout yourself. i’m not your servant.”
xinyu caught the pillow mid-air, laughing. “that’s not what you were saying in that post you ‘totally’ didn’t mean.”
you groaned, half-laughing despite yourself. “shut up!”
you watched as xinyu toyed with the pillow she’d caught. her laugh still lingered in the air, a sound you’d gotten used to but one that never failed to catch you off guard. it was almost too natural, the way she was here, sprawled out like she belonged.
“stop staring at me,” xinyu teased without looking up, tossing the pillow back onto the couch. “i know i’m hot, but you don’t need to make it obvious.”
you rolled your eyes, the sarcasm in her voice dragging you out of your thoughts. “literally nobody was staring at you.”
“mhm, sure,” she hummed, grabbing her phone and scrolling through her feed. “but seriously, we should take some photos.”
you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “what do you have in mind? like, the usual cute couple stuff?”
xinyu grinned, her eyes darting up to meet yours with a mischievous gleam. “obviously. we gotta go all out this time.”
you could feel your heart skip at her suggestions, but you did your best to play it off. “yeah, yeah, i get it. but let’s keep it... reasonable, okay?”
xinyu raised an eyebrow. “reasonable? where’s the fun in that?”
you shot her a look. “xinyu i can still kick you out.”
xinyu chuckled, “don’t be mean”
you groaned, picking up your phone to avoid her gaze. “just take the pictures already.”
xinyu sat up, moving closer until her leg was touching yours. “okay, okay, i’ll keep them family friendly.”
you wanted to respond, but the way xinyu was looking at you made you want to fold. she was too close, and the teasing tone in her voice was getting harder to ignore.
she positioned herself beside you, adjusting so that her head was closer to yours. “ready?”
you nodded, holding up your phone to snap a selfie. xinyu leaned in, resting her chin on your shoulder, her eyes soft as she smiled for the camera. you took a few more, each one more convincing than the last as xinyu snuck in close, her hand brushing against your arm, her presence filling up every inch of space next to you.
as you sat side by side on the couch, xinyu suddenly leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “let’s take one where i kiss your cheek,” she suggested, her grin widening.
“wait, what?!” you blurted out.
xinyu grabbed her bag took some bright red lipstick from her bag and put some on her lips before grabbing your chin, “can i?”
you nodded still in confusion about what was happening. she lightly put some lipstick on your lipstick before wiping it a little bit. she recapped the lipstick and then grabbed your chin again and her lips brushed against your cheek lightly as she held the pose for the camera.
the phone clicked multiple times, capturing the moments just as her lipstick smeared onto your skin, leaving a bold red mark. you could feel the warmth of her lips still lingering as you pulled back, blinking in surprise.
xinyu pulled away and laughed, glancing at the photo with satisfaction. “this is the one.”
you wiped at your cheek, noticing the bright smear of her lipstick now smudged across your face. glancing over at her, you saw xinyu’s lips were equally a mess, with the deep red smudging slightly from where she’d leaned in.
as you clicked through the photos, you couldn’t help but notice how natural they looked.
“look good?” xinyu asked, peeking over your shoulder.
“yeah, they’re fine,” you muttered, scrolling through them again.
xinyu smiled, her eyes lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary before she pulled back, grabbing the tv remote. “now that we’re done with that, what are we watching?”
“you pick.”
as the tv turned on, you leaned back into the couch, trying to focus on anything but the strange feelings creeping up inside you. because if this was all fake... then why did it feel so real?
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taglist ༒ @gtfoiydlyj . @inybits . @baewonlove . @yeetaberry127 . @sananapotter . @happyjuhyun . @nicstumblur . @istphanie . @urmom2314 . @yunalvrrr . @jeindall777 . @saysirhc . @idleyuri . @yerimbrit . @sixflame438 . @artrizzler19 . @lkimyoohyeon .
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hua-fei-hua · 2 years
Text
been seeing a lot of "kids these days" kind of posts bitching abt minors in fandom, and tbh i'm starting to feel a little bad for them.
like yeah, it can be exhausting to hear them complain about the stuff they see on ao3 that they don't like, but that's just the experience of curating one's own online experience for the first time. i remember taking countless aliquots of psychic damage by merely existing in the snk fandom back in the day!!! i have diary entries from that age where i talked about that discomfort and what i, at the time, thought should be done about it!!!
and like. spoiler alert, but it was pretty similar to those kinds of "this isn't right, and i think you're an icky person for being into it even though it's fiction" conclusions that you see a lot from people who are the same teenaged age as the characters involved.
there have been issues with calls to take down ao3 bc of this kind of thing, but that's not a position exclusive to people below the age of eighteen, and i don't think we're really going to actually get young fans to listen to us if we just keep calling them brats or snot-nosed children.
i've grown and changed a lot since i was their age, but something i have noticed is that it's easy to blame younger versions of yourself or others for not knowing the lessons you've learned since then. "i used to be that person; i know how they think, so why don't they see the obvious truth to my current viewpoint?" we fail so hard at giving kids the grace to be uneducated kids that we subsequently fail to educate them as intended.
being compassionate to kids is hard, i get it, especially when it feels like they're trying to actively dismantle the good you've worked hard to help create, and i don't think that bad behavior should go without consequences just because they're not adults yet. it's not our job as adults in fandom to parent them; hence the block button.
but like, idk. i think often about how easily we forget all the latent fear that existed within us growing up that slowly dissipated once we gradually assumed authority of our own lives. i think often about those posts that circulated tumblr about a decade ago promising to become the generation who wouldn't talk down on the generations below us, because we would remember how it felt to be talked down and dismissed at that age. and i just think that perhaps, generational warfare is not the answer here.
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whateveriwant · 4 months
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Good evening, I can't stop thinking about Simon going brain dead as he fucks you :)
Like, just imagine. You're on your elbows and knees as Simon's hitting it from behind, when suddenly you feel something wet land on your back. You know it's not him finishing given the fact that he's still buried deep inside you, so you look back over your shoulder to see what the hell that was you just felt.
And when you turn around, the sight that greets you is one for the ages. There's Simon, eyes unfocused and glazed over, mouth hanging wide open in the most fucked-out expression you've ever witnessed. He looks like he's never had an intelligent thought in his life; like he's been reverted back to a primitive brain, whose only drives are to eat, breathe, and fuck.
As you watch him rut into you like a sex-crazed animal, it's then you spy the source of the mystery liquid dripping onto your back. There, dribbling steadily from Simon's ajar mouth, flows a thick stream of drool. It leads down from his bottom lip in long, viscous ribbons, landing and settling itself along the curve of your spine. If he even notices (which, by the look on his face, he's too far gone for such higher-order thinking processes) then he doesn't care. He just lets his spit pour freely from his open mouth, like some kind of wild beast that's got its eyes locked onto its next meal.
Simon is so mentally checked out that he can't even hear you as you gently say his name. No, all he can think about – all his shriveled little monkey brain can focus on at this moment – is how fucking good you feel around him and how fucking badly he needs to fill you up.
When Simon does finally cum, he can only manage a garbled string of grunts and groans that doesn't even come close to resembling human speech. After three, four, five thrusts as deep into you as possible, his whole body is shaking, and his trembling limbs give out.
He collapses on top of you without a second's consideration of his size, pinning you to the mattress beneath his warm, heavy frame. You can still feel him drooling a little as his face comes to rest in the crook of your neck, the mess on your lower back getting smeared between your bodies.
It's hard for you to breathe being trapped under Simon's weight like that, so you try lightly tapping him on the head to ask him to roll off you. Unfortunately, I'm afraid it's no use trying to gain his attention right now. You're going to have to give him a few minutes to collect himself, love.
The poor guy just fucked himself stupid, after all.
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shotmrmiller · 23 days
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your superior finding out about the secret praise kink you didn't know had a name because you'd always been called an over achiever, a goody two shoes. never gave anyone any trouble, nose burrowed in a book since you had knobby knees and a library card.
you'd thought it normal that the apples of your cheeks burned when praised after giving your teacher the drawing you'd made for them the night before. that heat spread from the center of your chest up when your first boyfriend/girlfriend whistled at the sight of you outside of uniform. that warmth settles in your belly when you get a pat on the back from your platoon leader firm enough to force the air out of your lungs because you'd disassembled and cleaned a glock with the ease of a professional.
apparently it wasn't.
after weeks of training with the fabled task force, weeks of sharing elbow room with the team, weeks of soaking up the dizzying praise from the captain ("did real good out there, eh? can always count on you." you didn't question the throb betwixt your thighs, taking care of it with a cute little bullet like you've always done since joining the military)
you're confronted by the worst of the lot. ghost catches you in a break room, your back to him, hands clutching a cup of coffee that's more sludge than liquid, its warmth barely seeping through the styrofoam.
his figure fills the doorway, shoulders nearly brushing the frame. your first thought is that his brows aren't twisted together and he lacks that cold, blank look in his eyes so your death isn't in the nearest of futures. the second is that when he's not fully covering his face, the outline of his jaw is quite visible, looking sharp enough to cut.
then he crosses his sculpted arms over his chest, seams straining against the expanse of his muscles, head tipped to the side.
he moves with the keen curiosity of a predator sniffing around a newborn fawn, gaze intense yet inquisitive, assessing your every detail with a menacing interest.
"you ever gonna tell me you've a praise kink, bird?" the question sends a chill through your veins before turning into a fiery rush as it races at twice the normal speed.
praise kink? no. surely not. doesn't everyone like to receive compliments?
"sure. i don't mind gettin' told i've an impressive cock but that's bed talk. you look ready to bend over 'nd show us how slick tha' pretty cunt can get over a rufflin' of hair and a couple of empty words."
that has you positively reeling, fingertips cracking the cup in your hands, pulse on your neck fluttering. you feel a cornered, skittish animal, ready to flee lest your life come to an end in his maws.
but as usual, the cruel man more creature than person, twists the knife he's dug into you with a certain ruthlessness only he can muster.
"so be good for me, eh? love your praise? earn it."
you've always been an over achiever, proven once again by the way you take him to the root in one long, broad stroke with any complaints at the sheer size of him resting firmly behind your clenched teeth.
"tight little thing, spread open over me like you were meant for it. for me." he runs a gloved thumb over your swollen bottom lip. "there's tha' look. drivin' me bloody insane when you gave kyle tha' molten gaze. none o' tha' now, yeah?"
he creeps his ungloved hand down to circle your pearl with the spit-slick pads of his fingers, drawing in a sharp breath when your walls flutter and constrict around his cock at the feel of something other than your toy giving you the relief you need after a hard day's work.
"bloody fuckin' 'ell."
ghost claims a fistful of hair, pulling you closer to him, his breath warming the stinging, throbbing mark he bit onto the delicate skin of your neck. the shuffling of feet right outside the door snap you out of your daze, fingernails sinking into the bulging muscle of his chest but he has none of it.
he uses your hair to direct your focus back onto him and even though he'd only given you a leading tug you felt some strands of your hair come off with a pop.
"easy. can't see your pretty face when i'm fuckin' ya if your lookin' away."
your expression twists into what you hope is bliss when he bucks his hips, your whimper drowning out his groan when he hits on something new.
something you want him to keep hitting.
"exactly like i'd thought."
everything else blurs together after that, and only when you're back in your room using a warm cloth to clean yourself up do you remember the other things he'd rumbled.
(inside o' ya, make you mine-)
(-get 'bout bein' with anyone else-)
(-ll to myself-)
you touch your tender pussy with gentle fingers at what he'd said in the end.
(leave tha' f'me, he swipes your hand away, i'll get ya there, pet.)
if price's compliments take a nose dive off a cliff you don't notice because you're getting your daily fill of them and ghost after dinner every night. kyle keeps them to one word and soap likes to tempt fate as always.
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yeonzzzn · 7 months
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say my name: sunghoon
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pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 6.9k
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synopsis: you never liked sunghoon. matter of fact, you hate him. he annoys you and makes your blood boil. what makes it worse is he’s your neighbor, attends the same college as you, and even worked his way into your friend group. you refuse to say his name, but he has plans to make you scream it.
genre: neighbors!au, enemies to lovers, smut.
warnings: swearing, reader has an attitude problem, mutual masturbation, using readers spit to jerk off, fingering, cum eating, unprotective sex, doggie, hair pulling, lmk if I missed anything!
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You gripped the bedsheets, knuckles turning white and mouth going slack as moans escaped your lips. One of his hands left your hips and moved to your head, pushing your long hair from your face before connecting it to the side of your face, pressing you further into the sheets, another moan leaving your mouth. 
He chuckled, “Yeah? You like that huh?” his hand at your hip squeezed and shoved you further onto him, using more force into his other hand to press your face harder into the sheets, “Such a dirty fucking girl.” 
You exhaled out, “I fucking hate you,” but had the biggest smirk on your lips as he used every force possible to fuck into you. 
Sunghoon smirked at the look on your face, “No you don’t,” he cooed, his hand on your face moving to the top of your head, grasping a fistful of your hair and yanking, pulling you up and connecting your back to his chest, “Say my name,” he growled into your ear, letting go of your hair and snaking his hand down to your heat, middle finger circling your clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts, “Say. My. Name.” 
Your head spun as you thought back on how you ended up in this situation with his cock so deep inside you. 
You hated him the moment he moved in next door. You hoped whoever your neighbor would be that they would be better than the last one. The last neighbor you shared a wall with was loud, always yelling at something, banging on the walls, watching TV way too loud, and for whatever reason would leave their apartment door open to “get fresh air,” when in reality you thought it was to shove whatever terrible smell they had inside out. 
You were so thankful when you saw your new neighbor was your age. He was handsome, looked smart, was quiet, seemed clean and his best friends were hot. 
But you learned soon enough that he was a prick and your hate for him started. 
Your first interaction with him was asking if he could turn his music down because it was three in the morning and you had work that following morning. 
He opened the door wide, wearing nothing but his tight blue boxers that clearly showed his boner. His hair was a mess, and the giggles of two females could be heard from his bedroom. You tried to drown out their giggles and keep your eyes on his, terribly failing and staring down at his chest, abs…his cock. 
He smirked, leaning closer to you, “Like what you see? Want to join us?” Anger filled you instantly. Who the fuck did this prick this he was? He barely moved in a few days ago, has TWO other females in his apartment, and is hitting on you when he doesn’t know you?
You snarled, “Just turn the damn music down!” 
He, in fact, did not turn the music down but turned it up. 
The rest of that week was hell. Music, alcohol, other females, and his friends flew in and out of that apartment, making you sleep less and less every day. 
When classes started back up that following week, to your dismay, you walked into your microbiology class to see him sitting in the corner of the classroom. His hands shoved into his black hoodie, eyes locking onto yours. He smirked, leaning forward into his chair, resting his elbows on the table, and giving you a wink. 
If you could drop this class and take it another semester you would. But you were so close to being done with your prerequisites for your major that there was no point in dropping it. Plus you wouldn’t let your prick of a neighbor ruin this for you. 
Except he made class hell too. Tossing notes your way, giving you winks, and biting his lips. Always having a comeback to your answer when the professor would ask questions.
You discovered through the class that his name was Park Sunghoon, and the moment you knew his name was the moment you vowed to never say it. To not let that tainted name leave your lips. 
Sunghoon only did more to piss you off as time went on. Walking around outside the apartment practically naked, running his hands over his body, and winking at you. Always teasing you at college by how you “wanted” him. 
What made things worse, he somehow befriended your best friend. Yunjin invited you to a party one night and you gladly accepted it, wanting one night away from the apartment building and away from Sunghoon. 
You walked into the party, expecting to be embraced by your best friend, but instead saw the door being opened by Jake, one of Sunghoon’s hot best friends. 
“Oh shit! Hey YN!” his Aussie accent blurted out, “You’re friends with Yunjin too?” 
Too?
You peered into her house, seeing Sunghoon’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, red solo cups in their hands as they laughed together with not only your friends but also his. 
Yunjin’s eyes widen in excitement at seeing Jake lead you into her house, “YNNIE!!!” 
She released herself from Sunghoon and embraced you quickly, “I have some people I want you to meet!” 
She introduced you to Sunghoon and his friends, the awkward smile on Sunghoon’s face showed that he had zero clue you were best friends with Yunjin. 
“No shit!” Jay exclaimed, “You’re best friends with YN?! Sunghoon is her neighbor!” 
Yunjin, mostly in her drunken state, was more excited than she should be, “OH EM GEEE!!” she clapped her hands, “We can be one big happy friend group!”
You found out from Yunjin that she and Sunghoon have a few classes together and even already hung out a few times around campus with his friends when you were busy. 
You wanted to break up the friendship but felt way too guilty and didn’t want to be that person to break away a friendship. 
So you sucked it up. 
For months you tried to act normal, but Sunghoon’s flirting and his teasing only got worse. Making you hate him even more. Oh, but it fueled him to continue. 
Even after almost a year, you refused to call him by name, referring to him as stupid, idiot, idiot penguin(after finding out he was a figure skater), and simply just a prick. 
You twirl your pencil between your fingers, listening to Heeseung and Yunjin talk about the League of Legends match they had last night. Jake cutting into the conversation. 
“Yeah yeah nerds, I have something to say.” 
Sunghoon glanced up at his best friend from his homework, “What could be more important than their league match?” 
“What the idiot penguin said,” you chimed in, eyes going back down to your homework. 
“Are we still going with the idiot penguin?” Sunghoon scoffed, “It’s been a year, YN,” he rolled his eyes, “I have a name.”
You shrugged, standing by your statement of never saying his name. 
Your friend group soon figured out whatever enemies thing you two had going on but never addressed it, hoping you two would figure it out on your own. 
“Anyways,” Jay said, “What is important?” 
Jake smiled, “Let’s go to the next city over and party.” 
Chaewon’s eyes lit up, “You know, why not?” 
Yunjin even seemed interested. 
Your little small town had bars and one shitty club. Neither was worth walking into. Going the next city over for a night out didn’t seem like a bad idea until…
“We can get a hotel!” Yunjin said, “That way we don’t have to rush back home and can actually get drunk.” 
You were on board until the hotel was brought up, “No. Absolutely not.” 
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at you, knowing perfectly well why you didn’t want to, “Get over it, you’re going. All of us are.” 
You protested the whole week against going, yet you found yourself in the very backseat of Chaewon’s car sitting right next to Sunghoon. 
You rolled your head back onto the headrest, crossing your arms with a groan, “Can someone PLEASE switch seats with me?” 
“NO!” everyone else shouted. Sunghoon just sitting in silence, his arms also crossed, eyes locked onto whatever could be so interesting outside the car. 
You’ve only been in the car for an hour and a half, yet it was killing you already. 
“You really need to get over whatever hate you have for him,” Yunjin said earlier in the day as she shoved her duffle bag into the trunk, “I don’t understand it, everyone else is fine with each other besides you two.” 
You crossed your arms, “He’s just a prick. Has been since I’ve met him.” 
Yunjin rolled her eyes, “You aren’t even sure if he even did have a threesome with those girls.” 
She wasn’t…wrong. But by the way, his dick was hard in those…tight boxers, there’s no way he didn’t fuck them both. 
“Idiot penguin didn’t really do a good job of defending himself if he wasn’t, plus he asked ME to join them.” 
Yunjin just sighed, “He hates when you call him that, he actually wants to be friends with you, ya know. We are all friends, you live right next door to each other, just try to get along tonight, okay?” 
Yet here you were in the backseat with him wanting nothing more than to jump out of the window and let every car hit you. 
The sun started to set, and everyone one by one (except Chaewon and Jay who were driving and the passenger) fell asleep. 
A small bump in the road was enough to wake you from your sleep. You yawned and then the pain of the way your body was twisted into the seat kicked in. 
With a soft groan, you shifted yourself up, eyes wandering down your legs seeing them draped over Sunghoon’s lap. 
His eyes were wide and lips tucked between his eyes as he stared down at your legs. You shifted in your seat, ready to yell at him and pull your legs back but when your foot grazed over his crotch, you were in more shock than he was when realizing you were awake, head snapping to you so fast. 
“YN…” he whispers, eyes darting to the front of the car then back to you, “It’s not—“
“Then what is it you prick?!” you whisper back. He had a fucking hard-on?! What the hell was he thinking and doing with your legs?!
Sunghoon quickly placed his hand over his hard cock, trying to conceal it as if it would help make the situation better. 
It didn’t. 
“And now you’re touching yourself?!” you whispered in a snap, “You’re such a pervert you prick!” 
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “Will you shut the fuck up and listen for a second, ya?” you thinned your lips in a line, waiting. “You at some point in your sleep shoved your legs into my lap. It woke me up and I was so close to shoving you off me, but you looked peaceful and Jay made me promise to not start shit with you.” Ahhh so they all were in on trying to get you two to play nice, “So I left you alone, but you started shifting around and…” 
And he got a fucking boner just from your legs. 
“You have a leg fetish or something?” you raise a brow at him. 
Only for your legs. 
Sunghoon shook his head, “You’re fucking crazy.” 
But maybe he was the crazy one. Ever since he’s met you, he’s wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of you. To fuck all that hate you have for him out. To turn that scrunched face full of anger every time you look at him into a relaxed sexual face with you moaning out his name. 
He’s never once heard you call him by name. Even when he’s texted you about stuff about hanging out with everyone or for class or homework or literally anything about the apartment you always call him some wack ass name. 
Sunghoon has it as his goal to get you to say his name. Whether that’s by him fucking you into the next year, or gaslighting you into saying it somehow. He preferred option one. 
He found you so ridiculously sexy. Your attitude always got him going and he couldn’t explain why. Maybe it’s because he wanted to fuck that attitude out, maybe it’s because over the year of knowing you, he’s grown a little crush. Loving the way your eyes light up when a strawberry alcoholic beverage of any kind is placed in front of you. Loving how you smile when you see animals and how you dance around with Yunjin in her living room. 
He found it so sexy how you give back every ounce of bullshit he threw at you. So sexy when you wear your tight sweatpants that shape your ass do fine. Finding the small mole above your naval so cute and attractive, mostly when you wear tight crop tops or shorter shirts that lift when you stretch showing off your tummy. 
Sunghoon was so down bad for you in many ways that even he wasn’t able to understand it. 
He hated you to a degree, but only in a way to keep himself from feeling things he shouldn’t for you. 
“I’m crazy?” you burned holes into his eyes when he nodded, “Says the one who got a boner over my legs.” 
Sunghoon couldn’t hold it back anymore, slowly palming his cock, “Yeah? And what about it? Your legs are so fucking sexy.” Sunghoon loved your legs and wanted to rub his hands up and down them. Wanted to squeeze the plush of your thighs. Wanted them to straddle him. 
You could see it in his eyes, the way his pupils were starting to look blown out and filled with so much lust. He’s never looked at you like that before. 
It made your cheeks flush and made you speechless. Your eyes wandered away from his and down to the hand palming himself, watching as his hips slowly shifted up with each stroke of his palm. 
It sent heat down your body and pooled between your legs. You hated him, so why was watching him stroke himself so hot to you? Making you want to continue watching him. 
“Oh, you so want me,” he whispered, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly sliding his hand down his sweatpants and boxers, letting out a soft grunt and he flung his head back into the headrest, keeping his eyes locked with yours. 
You watched how the moonlight and street lamps shined on him as he fucked up into his fist slowly. 
“Prick,” you whispered back at him, closing your thighs together in hopes of concealing the rising heat between them. But Sunghoon notices everything. 
“You’re so wet, aren’t you? All just from watching me? So dirty.” He was making your blood boil. But the slick between your legs was worse than your anger at the moment, and you knew that he could see it too. 
“Shut up,” you closed your legs tighter, trying to fight yourself from looking at him, from looking at how his hand moves under his sweatpants. 
“Touch yourself.” 
Your eyes widened, “Excuse you?!” 
“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped, making you realize you said that a bit too loud, with a groan he repeated himself, “I said touch yourself.” 
You snarl at him, opening your mouth to fight back but ultimately stopping when he pulls his hand from his pants and lifts his hips to slide them down to his thighs. 
He looked back at you as he wrapped his hand back around himself, a smirk raising, “Close your mouth, you might start drooling, YN.” 
You didn’t realize how wide you let your jaw drop at his size…he was huge. Maybe that day you told him to turn his music down, his cock showing wasn’t because of how tight his boxers were…
You closed your mouth, sliding your back into the seat and slouching down, running your thighs even more together. 
Sunghoon was loving the way you were looking at him. Loved how you kept darting your eyes back and forth between his face and cock. Oh, the way he’ll tease you about this until his last breath. 
He leaned towards you a bit, rubbing his thumb over the tip to spread his precum, “Touch yourself, YN.” 
Your heart was racing, your body on fire. You wanted to. So bad. But didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. 
Sunghoon let a small moan leave his lips, and you were done for. 
You slid your hand down your shorts, your fingers working their way to spread your slick around your clit. 
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowing, “Keep going.” 
You stared down at his cock, watching how he bucked his hips in movement with his hand, seeing how his precum leaked from the tip. 
But then he released himself, reaching over and stopping his hand below your mouth, “Spit.” 
You didn’t hesitate, dripping your saliva into a small pool in his hand. Sunghoon could have came just by the eye contact you gave him as you gave him your spit. Like holy fucking shit it was hot. 
Sunghoon spreads your saliva over his cock, hitting his head back into the headrest as his hand glides so easily up and down his shaft, “Oh, fuck.” 
You bit your lips and pressed two fingers inside you, letting small and quiet whimpers escape just loud enough for him to hear. 
Sunghoon wanted you to expose yourself as he has to you, reaching his free hand to the hem of your shorts and tugging, “Pull’em down.” 
So you did. Releasing your fingers from your cunt only long enough to push your shorts and panties down to your ankles and pumping your fingers back into you. 
Sunghoon hissed at see you finger fuck yourself. Loving how your hips rolled in time with your fingers. God, he wished it was his fingers inside you. 
He looks up to you, seeing that your eyes were still locked onto his cock. He slouched more down into the seat, giving himself more room to pump himself and give you a better view. 
You bit your lips tighter and pushed your fingers in faster, knowing damn well you were covering the seat in your juices. But you didn’t care at that moment. 
Sunghoon’s hand was on your thigh, spreading your leg more apart, giving you that access to finger fuck yourself faster. 
It was driving him up a wall at how you looked right now. You’ve only ever shown him faces of anger, but right now you’re showing him the faces you make when horny and touching yourself. And oh god he was loving it. 
He wanted you to look at him while touching yourself. He wanted to see the face you’d make when you cum, wanting you to watch him cum. 
“Hey, YN,” he was barely able to whisper, “Eyes on me.” 
You locked eyes with him, chills being sent down your spine at his fucked out expression. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run wild. Is this how he looks when he’s having sex? So out of it and lustful? 
You wondered how he’d fuck you while you straddled him. Would his hips buck up like they are doing into his fist? Would he go faster? Harder? The thoughts were endless as you stared back into his eyes. 
His mouth slightly opened, his lips swollen from how hard he was biting them to keep his moans compressed. He let out small grunts, eyes quickly looking down at how covered your hand was with your wetness, wanting to unbuckle himself and grab you by your thighs until your back was touching the bottom of the seat as he spreads your legs and fucked himself into you. 
The thoughts were enough to send him over the edge, “YN,” he whispered.
“Hmm?”
“I’m fixing to cum.” 
Your body tensed, fingers moving faster, “Cum then,” you whispered back, your thumb now doing circles on your clit as you pumped yourself. 
“M’cumming,” he said with a deep inhale, tucking his lips back between his teeth as he released, his cum leaking out so perfectly and down his hand. 
“Fuck,” you whimper, working your fingers faster. 
Sunghoon slid his boxers up first, wiping his cum on the inside of his boxers due to not having anywhere else to do so, then slid his sweatpants back over his hips. 
He locked his eyes back to yours, seeing how desperate you looked wanting to cum too. He slides his eyes down to your cunt. If it were his hands there…you would have came twice by now. 
You wanted to release terribly, but the angle of your hand and the small of the backseat made it difficult for you to chase out that climax. You tensed as you tried to reach for it, calling for it. 
Your body froze when Sunghoon’s hand grabs yours, pulling your fingers out of your cunt, “Let me help.” 
Usually, you’d protest and yell at him. Call him a prick. Shove him away. But right now you wanted to cum and that priority was above all else. 
He replaced your fingers with his. His long fingers slid into you so gracefully, “Fuck you’re so wet,” he moans softly, angling his hand in the perfect spot as he hit your g-spot. Sunghoon couldn’t believe he was feeling you in his hand, feeling your slick pool in his palm, feeling you clench around his fingers. He was already getting hard again. 
“Feels good baby?” he whispers in your ear and all you do in response is nod. 
Something about his fingers was driving you crazy. The way they hit your g-spot with such ease, the way his thumb brushed against your clit with each movement…
“Say my name,” he says into your ear, pumping his fingers in you faster. 
“No,” you say back, your hand flying to his wrist and squeezing it tightly. 
“Say my name, YN,” he said again, curling his fingers so deep inside you, your climax nearing so fast you didn’t have time to think, “Say my name baby.” 
You opened your mouth, not to say his name, but to moan as you came around his fingers and hand. Sunghoon acted fast enough to press his lips to yours, suppressing your moan from being too loud and letting the others find out what was happening in the back seat. 
You closed your eyes at your release, Sunghoon’s fingers still moving inside you slowly, helping you chase out at high. 
You kissed him back, without so much as a second thought, you kissed him back. 
Maybe you did it as a way to thank him for helping you release, maybe you did it because you wanted to. The lines were blurred and you didn’t know why you let him kiss you. 
His fingers slid out from your cunt as he leaned more into you, his tongue spreading your lips apart and making its way into your mouth twirling the muscle around yours. 
Once you came down from your high, your eyes opened wide, and shoved Sunghoon back to his side of the car. A chuckle left his lips, “Back to hating me?” 
“I never stopped hating you!” 
“Right,” he clicked his tongue, as he looked down at his hand covered in your cum, “That’s not what your body said five minutes ago.” 
You wanted to call him his usual nickname but stopped short when he lifted his hand to his lips, tongue extending out and licking your cum from his palm then shoved his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 
Fuck she tastes so good. 
Your face reddens, “Prick,” 
His eyes roamed down to your cunt, “Pull your shorts up.” 
“I hate you.” 
Once you all arrived at the hotel and checked into your rooms, you quickly locked the door, sliding your back down the wood and covering your face in your hands. 
The guilt of what happened was finally hitting you. You masturbated with him. Watch him cum down his hand and even let him make you cum. You let him kiss you, and shove his tongue down your throat. 
You felt dirty and in need of a shower to wash away the guilt and feeling of his hand between your legs. 
Everyone was supposed to meet down in the lobby twenty minutes after getting to their rooms to change and do whatever else before hitting up the club. It was plenty of time to shower and wash Sunghoon off you. 
You scrubbed your body clean and even double-brushed your teeth before sliding into the dress Yunjin and Chaewon forced you to bring, “It makes you look so hot!” Yunjin said, “Fits you in all the right places!” 
Well, she was right. The red dress was made of silk and slid down your body perfectly as well as fit you perfectly. It was tight around your frame to show off your curves, shaping your ass and lifting your tits. You slid your feet into matching red sneakers, not caring enough to walk around in heels all night. 
You arrived in the lobby, seeing that Jake and Sunghoon were the first ones there.
Just looking at Sunghoon not only brought back your moment in the car together but brought out a different feeling. 
You could tell he also showered by how wet his hair still was. His hair was parted perfectly in its normal part, pieces sliding down into his face. His black button-up shirt was tight against his frame, showing his muscled arms and shoulders perfectly. Matching his shirt, he wore black pants that fit him perfectly in a loose way. 
Jake mirrored his outfit but in white, going for a whole yin and yang thing. Which made sense for the two of them being best friends and all. 
“Wow,” Jake was the first to speak, “You look—“
“Sexy,” Sunghoon finished for him, his gaze eyeing you up and down. 
“Yes! Sexy!” 
Sunghoon tried to not let his irritation with his best friend show as he watched him practically drool over you. If only Jake knew he was knuckles deep in your pussy not even an hour ago. 
Hell, Sunghoon was trying to not drool over you right now. Red was definitely your color and it was doing something to him down in his pants. Especially with the way the tops of your breasts pooled over the top of that dress. 
You noticed how he was eye fucking you, earning you to scrunch your nose at him and look away, putting your attention fully on Jake. 
Shit, there’s that attitude I want to fuck right out of her. 
It didn’t take much longer for the others to arrive and off to the club you all went. 
The club was packed. The music you didn’t quite care for and Sunghoon wouldn’t let you out of his sight, following your every move like a hawk hunting his prey. 
Everyone else had found their way to the dance floor, shaking some ass and grinding up on random strangers having the time of their lives. That could be you if you didn’t have an idiot penguin on your heels. 
You walked up to the bar, waving the bartender over, “Yes ma’am?” he said, his eyes immediately dropping to your cleavage.
“She’ll take a strawberry coconut rum with extra ice please, make it two,” Sunghoon answered for you. 
You looked over at him, seeing how closely he stood next to you. Sunghoon wanted to touch you, have his hands on you to show every man in this club to back the fuck off. 
“You got it,” the bartender said, giving a small look of irritation at Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon just smirked, eyes flickering to his name tag, “Thank you, Choi Yeonjun.” 
Yeonjun just thinned his lips out, “Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then he walked off to make the drinks. 
Your glare at him didn’t falter, “Can I help you?” Sunghoon asked. 
“Can I help YOU? I can order my drinks myself.” 
“He was literally eye fucking you, I had to do something.” 
You raised a brow at him, “Huh? Is it eating you up so much that other men are looking at me?” 
Yes because no one else is allowed to have you. 
“Why would I care about that? It’s not them looking, it’s the fact they aren’t just looking. They are undressing you with their eyes and I can’t fucking stand it.” 
You’ve never seen Sunghoon so…protective before. He’s never batted an eye at you twice at the clubs and bars back home, letting any and every man hit on you as much as they wanted. What changed between then and now? 
Yeonjun returned with your drinks, giving you a flirty smile and glare at Sunghoon before walking away again. 
Sunghoon snarled at him. 
“Anyway!” You snapped, “How did you know what to even order me?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, taking a sip of the alcohol, “I’ve known you for over a year, YN. I’ve seen what you drink when we’ve gone out and at parties. I know you.” 
Somehow that hit hard to your heart, that he even paid that much attention to you outside of the constant teasing. 
“You hate me, why go through this trouble?” you scoffed, chugging down your drink quickly, wanting to already feel the buzz. 
“I hate you, but not in the same way you hate me,” he finally admitted, “It’s not any trouble at all to protect you, I’ve always done it, always shooed off anyone who would hit on you for too long. You just never noticed it.” 
Your heart skipped a beat, your memory shoving back in time at every time someone hit on you, how they’d flirt and touch your waist, only for them to leave to grab a drink and never return. Now you know why, Sunghoon got to them. 
“What do you mean that you don’t hate me the same way I hate you?” 
Sunghoon looked away from you, chugging down the last bit of his drink before tossing it back onto the bar counter and taking a deep breath in. 
“You hate me because of how I flirt with you, how I tease you about anything and everything. You hate me for how loud I blast my music, hate me for being loud when Heeseung, Jay, and Jake are over, hate me for the number of females I’ve brought in and out of my apartment, hate me because you think I had a threesome with those girls all that time ago when I actually didn’t, by the way, I sent them home before anything else could happen. And you hate me for competing against you in class, hate me for joining your friend group, the list goes on. But me? I hate you because of how bad I want you.” 
He looked back at you, his face softened from his hardened look from earlier at Yeonjun. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was holding everything back. 
Sunghoon wanted to yell at you for how stupid you were for not seeing how he felt about you. That his little teasing and acts of flirting were because he likes you. Yeah, he wanted to fuck your brains out along with that nasty attitude of yours, that ain’t no lie, but the moment he first laid his eyes on you his heart wanted to jump out his chest. And after seeing the way you eyed him up that one day you went to yell at him about his music, it tipped him over the edge to always wanting to be that thorn in your side pissing you off. Because it was better than making you feel nothing at all for him. 
Sunghoon sighs, “I hate you because I want you so bad. I hate you because you can’t even dare say my name. I hate you for the things you make me feel. I fucking hate you for letting me kiss you in the car because now all I can think about is how I’d get my lips back on yours.”
You stared blankly at him, before nervously shaking your head and letting out a chuckle, “Right. This is just your way of teasing me again.” 
“If I wanted to tease you right now, I’d bring up how badly you were gasping at my cock in the car.” 
“Shut up!” You snapped, your face reaching the same shade as your dress. 
He smirked at you, “All that aside, I want you so fucking bad that I can’t handle it anymore, and by how fucking wet you were for me…” he took a step closer to you, face nearly inches apart from yours, “I know you want me so bad too.”
You swallowed, body shaking from how close he was to you right now. Sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, biting at his lower lip, “Say my name,” 
You lifted your face a bit, barely brushing your lips to his, “No,” 
Sunghoon’s hands were now at your waist, fingers digging into that sexy dress of yours that he wanted to rip from your body, “God I want to fuck that attitude out of you.”
Your heart was doing flips and you finally understood why: because of the feelings that ran deep within you that you sheltered up and locked away. Finally understanding that’s why he made your blood boil at nearly existing. You were forcing the feelings you felt for him away. 
You landed your hands on his biceps, rubbing your thumb over the muscle, “Say my name,” he said again. 
You smiled, shaking your head. 
Sunghoon just smirked back at you, taking a few steps back and guiding you with him, “I am going to get you to say my name.” 
You, for the first time, flirted back, “How are you going to do that?” 
He didn’t respond, just kept pulling you toward the entrance of the club and until you were back at the hotel and being shoved into his room. 
His mouth found yours, his hands roaming every inch of your body as your fingers trailed down his shirt, undoing every button until the black fabric was lying somewhere on the floor. 
Sunghoon shoved his tongue down your throat at the same time he found the zipper to your dress, pulling it down in a shift motion to get you out of it quickly. 
His cock was twitching in his pants, so eager to be set free and find its new home inside your cunt. 
The moment your dress hit the floor, you were shoved onto your back on the bed, his hands on your hips and pulling you to the edge, looping his fingers into your panties nearly ripping them off you. 
“So fucking needy,” you teased him, “Want me that bad?” 
Sunghoon hissed, “You have no fucking idea.” 
He towered over you, pressing his lips back to yours as his fingers slipped into your soaked pussy. You moaned against his mouth, closing your thighs around his hand. 
“Say my name,” he said once again, “I wanna hear you say it.” 
You bit your lip, ushering out another no. 
Sunghoon was going insane for this little game of yours, it turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Maybe he was actually crazy. 
“Say my name,” he said as he pushed his fingers into you harder, curling his fingers at your g-spot, “Scream my name and I might consider letting you cum.”
You slid your hand down to your clit, working your fingers against it, “That's fine, I’ll just make myself cum.” 
Sunghoon groaned, swatting your hand from your clit and removing his fingers. Both hands grabbing at your waist and flipping you over, lifting your ass up and making your back arch, “Shit I can’t wait to fuck that attitude of yours away.” 
“Funny you think that’s something that can be done,” 
He took a handful of your hair and lifted you up, letting out a “Watch me,” in a whisper against your ear, then shoved you back down into the sheets. 
You heard the sound of his pants hitting the floor, then felt his tip prod at your entrance, “Prick…” 
“What was that?” 
“Pri—“
Before you could make out the word, he shoved his length into you, bottoming out then pushing himself back out and then in, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. 
You didn’t care though, the pleasure was far too great as he fucked into you like you were a bitch in heat, “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll start thinking twice before giving me attitude again.” 
And that’s how you ended up here, back pressed so tightly against his chest as his cock and fingers worked their magic on your body. 
You reached your hands up and behind his, fingers tangling into his hair as your brain became foggy. 
He fucked into you with the full intention of getting you to scream his name. Of getting you to come so unglued on his cock you’ll be begging him to fuck you some more. 
Even with these goals in mind, Sunghoon couldn’t believe he had your body pressed up against his, cock so balls deep into your cunt, and hearing your moans so crystal clear in his ear. He loved it. Loved how much of a mess he was making of you. 
He worked his middle finger faster against your clit, “Say my name,” he begged, “Say my fucking name.” 
You bit down on your lip, trying with any willpower left that you had to keep from screaming his name. From giving him exactly what he wanted. 
Sunghoon kept trying and wasn’t going to stop until his name left your lips. He’ll fuck you until the sun starts raising if he had to, all to hear your pretty voice speak his name. 
Your climax was fast approaching, you wanted to cum so bad, and you knew what you had to do to reach it, finally letting go. 
“Sunghoon,” you softly moaned. 
“Louder,” he growled. 
“Sunghoon,” you moaned again. 
“Louder!” 
“SUNGHOON,” you screamed at the same time you came on his dick, his fingers and thrusts did not slow long down. 
“Fuccckkkk yessss,” he groaned, removing his fingers from your clit and using all his weight to push you back down into the sheets, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pounding into you faster and harder than before. 
You chanted his name, losing your breath at the ecstasy that filled you. 
“That’s it, baby, scream my name like it’s the only name you’ll ever know.” 
You continued to moan his name, making it music to his ears and filling his heart with such happiness he didn’t think was possible. 
“Fuck, you love hoonie’s cock, ya? Love the way I give it to you?”
“Hoonie,” you cried out, “Fucking love your cock so much.” 
Sunghoon gripped his hands tighter around yours, “Cum for me again baby, you can do it.” 
You released on him again, your eyes seeing stars. 
He pushed your legs further apart with his knees and fucked harder into you, “I’m so in love with you,” he admitted, “I love that stupid ass attitude of yours, I love fucking that attitude out, I love the way you say my name and love the way you look at me while I fuck you. I love you.” 
You lifted your head, barely being able to look at him, but you did. You were looking up at him with such endearment. Like he was the one who put the stars in the sky just like he’s the one making you see them right now. 
“Sunghoon,” he came undone at how softly you said his name, his seed unloading into your gummy walls, slowing his thrust as he chased down his high, “I love you too.” 
You both sat hand in hand in the backseat, Sunghoon pinching your cheeks in a teasing manner as he rubbed his nose against yours, his smile so wide. 
“Hey,” Jay called from the front seat, “What the fuck happened with you two?” 
Heeseung groaned and slung his head onto the headrest, “You don’t even want to know! They were fucking each other's brains out all night.” 
Chaewon yawned at the driver's seat, “Be lucky you didn’t have a room next to his.” 
“No for real,” Heeseung added, “I got so tired hearing how many times he asked YN to cum for him. Wanted to shove pencils down my ears.” 
Sunghoon slapped his friend's chest, “Bring earphones next time buddy.” 
Jake and Yunjin looked at each other confused at what happened between their best friends, but going along anyway. Jake always knew Sunghoon had feelings for you and saw how he bottled it up. Jake guessed last night was Sunghoon’s tipping point. And Yunjin always knew you’d break at some point and accept Sunghoon, she just didn’t expect it to be as a lover. 
“Anyway,” Jay said rubbing his temples, “Let’s hit the road, I have work tomorrow and need to sleep off more of this hangover.” 
Chaewon then started the drive back home. 
Sunghoon rested his face back against yours, bringing your lips to his, “Say my name again.” 
“Sunghoon,” you whispered between kisses, “Sunghoon, Sunghoon, Sunghoon.”
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nappingmoon · 1 month
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more domestic nanami kento because I love and adore him, but this time you’re in an argument and try to sleep on the couch (spoiler: nuh uh)
wc: idk i’m on my phone it’s not that long
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you get into an argument w nanami and think he wants space so after dinner, when he heads into the room to go to bed, you stay out under the pretense of finishing some paper work and watching the news. you pull a blanket out and splay onto your couch, which, despite being a little small, is soft and comfortable— a testament to its use and the friends you've had over to break it in. the thought of those good times warms your heart a smidge, though it remains heavy with the current tension between you and your fiancé. you leave the tv on, let the night shift television shows fill the space and keep you company while you sleep, an alarm set so that tomorrow you can make breakfast and talk it out.
in the bedroom, nanami lays on his back, the small clock to his left almost mocking him with the way the red numbers change minute after minute with no sign of you coming to bed. the room is cold without your presence, dark in a way that has nothing to do with lamps or moonlight. he fidgets and turns but without your familiar dip in the bed, sleep is impossible. he never sleeps well without you; the lack of your steady breaths and soft snores means he starts to spiral with thoughts about your wellbeing. he knows you’re in an argument, but you always come to bed, right?
he sits on it for a moment more, eyeing the door to see if you’ll slip in and put his worries to rest like you always do. when the numbers blip again, he gets up, feet sliding into the silly slippers you got him for christmas (you have a matching pair) and finds his way to the living room.
when he finds you there curled up with your arm hung over the edge of the sofa and a little bit of drool spilling onto the cushion, his heart twists. the lights of the television flash over your face, certainly disrupting your sleep, though he doubts your reaching anywhere near a restful slumber. he walks over to you, slowly crouching in order to avoid scaring you awake. his right hand grabbing yours, and it’s freezing— left without the protection of your measly blanket. he warms it with one hand while the other comes up to graze your face, easing you awake.
“kento?” you ask, bleary eyed. “you’re even handsome in my dreams.” you smile and pat his face before letting your arm drop and closing your eyes once more.
a small chuckle escapes him, both in surprise and adoration at his soon to be wife. unwilling to try and wake you a second time, he quickly turns the tv off, then slides an arm around your back and another under your knees before rising. he elbows the light switch to the living room off and slowly makes his way back to your shared bedroom, carefully avoiding hitting you at any point. your head is safe regardless, tucked into his chest contentedly despite not being awake. he supposes your body recognizes him asleep or awake— a testament to the years you’ve spent side by side; once as teammates and now as lovers.
he slides you into bed on your side, fixing up the covers before making his way around to his side. he slips off his slippers and gets himself under the covers, body gravitating to you. as he brings you closer to him, you finally seem to shake off your sleep. you look at him sadly, and it’s enough to resolve him against letting any future arguments happen (an impossible sentiment, he knows, but the look on your face is makes him dead set on trying).
“never try to sleep on the couch again.” he whispers, quiet but stern. “I hate sleeping without you. I worry too much.” the honesty is almost suffocating and tears build at your waterline.
“m’ sorry kento. thought you were mad at me n’ I wanted to give you some space away from me.” you reply, the words thick with sleep and emotion.
“i’ll never need space from you baby,” he insists, “I know we were in an argument but you mean everything to me. I’ll always want you by my side. I’ll always need you by my side. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were the reason I was upset.” he finishes off with a kiss to your forehead, his hand coming up to wipe the tears that have begun to drip down your cheeks.
he kisses down the bridge of your nose before leaving a peck at your lips. it’s the last thing you feel before giving in to the exhaustion once more.
in the morning, you’ll discuss the tensions of yesterday, but before that, you’ll wake in the arms of your lover, held tight against the rhythmic thumping of his heart.
it beats for you, anyway.
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gojonanami · 11 months
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"IF YOU WANT, I CAN COME INSIDE?" - SATORU GOJO
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✴︎ summary: nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue. aka hearing gojo's english va (kaiji tang) say the above line in apothecary diaries and i lost my mind. ✴︎ contents: just fluff, gojo being a dumbass, lots of playful knocking gojo down a peg, nobara being an absolute menace, innuendo, implication of sex ✴︎ wc: 713
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NK: get over here now. [sends GPS location]
MF: Why? 
NK: don’t question it. Just get over here.
YI: on our way. 
“What is this—“ and Nobara pulls them back, shushing them, as they hide behind the side of one of the residential suites of Jujutsu Tech, designated for staff or visiting sorcerers, “Kugisaki—“ 
“Look at who that idiot is talking with—“ 
“Wow, she’s hot — who’s that?” Yuji blinks, tilting his head, “is she Gojo-sensei’s—“ 
“Can’t be she’s out of his league—“ Nobara scoffs, still peeking out, “do either of you know—“ 
Megumi answers, saying your name, “she’s a sorcerer - she’s been away on an overseas mission for a bit,” he shrugs at their curiosity, “I’ve worked with her before — I think that’s where she stays usually when she’s at Jujutsu Tech,” 
“She must be pretty strong then, I think the only other person who I know who went overseas for a mission was Gojo-sensei,” Yuji scratches his head, squinting his eyes and straining to hear, “what are they talking about?” 
“C’mon, one kiss?” Satoru pouts, his arms crossed to stop himself from reaching out, “it’s been so long and I can’t even touch you,” 
“Your students are watching us — you’re the one who didn’t bother to tell them you’re married,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “is this how you want to introduce me?” 
And he’s leaning even closer, smirking, warm breath against your ear, “if you want, I can come inside,” and you flush at his inneundo, gaping at him, before you shove him playfully, but he catches you by the wrist, pulling you closer. 
“Toru—“ and he presses his lips to yours, smiling, as you melt into his touch. 
“Let them watch, I need to welcome my wife back,” and he’s kissing you more insistently, arms sliding behind you to press you to him, your palm resting against his chest.
“EHHHHH?” Yuji and Nobara watch, jaws on the ground, as Megumi plugs his ears, shaking his head. 
“Can you two be any louder?” He grumbles, as you and Gojo turn to look at them. 
“Megumi!” You grin, walking over, “it’s good to see you — how are the boys?” 
He cracks a small smile, “The demon dogs are fine — they liked the treats you got them, thank you,” the two of you talk as Gojo makes his way over as well, hands behind his head as Nobara and Yuji stare at him. 
“How do you know her so well?” Yuji points at Megumi. 
“Well, her and Gojo kinda helped look after me,” he looks away crossing his arms, as you hide your smile — poorly, as given by Megumi’s slight glare.
“Hey what’s the deal?” Nobara glares, still focused on Gojo, “how’d you bag her? Did you lie? Did you suddenly grow a personality? Did you bribe her?” 
Gojo scoffs, laughing, head thrown back, “I just won her over with my infinite charm, of course!” 
“Wore me down is more like it, Toru,” you elbow him lightly, “wore me down to the point that I’d marry him,” you roll your eyes, as the pair of students stare at you. 
“YOU’RE MARRIED?” they shout at Gojo, pointing, who only rubs the back of his head, smiling. 
“Did I…forget to mention that?” He tugs his chain out from under his uniform, a platinum ring attached to it, “I don’t wear my ring because I don’t want it getting messed up from my cursed energy,” 
The three of them start bickering as you and Megumi stand, watching, “so this is what it’s like when you’re with them, huh?” 
Megumi sighs, “Pretty much,” and you give a soft smile. 
“No wonder you’ve seemed happier lately,” you give a small laugh at his bewildered expression before Satoru is wrapping his arms around you. 
“Sweetheart, my students are being so mean to me,” and you scoff, rubbing his head. 
“I’m 100% sure you deserve it,” and he’s pouting again, but leans into his touch, “come on, let’s have dinner together,” you grab his arm, “It was nice to meet you guys. Let me know if Satoru ever gives you any trouble.” 
“Huh? I’m not trouble,” he grumbles, as you kiss his cheek, before he’s leaning close again, lips brushing against your ear, “can I make good on my offer now?” 
“…after dinner.”
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✴︎ a/n: just a short little thing i wrote before i post on friday :). could not resist writing this quick little thing last night before bed :).
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noisilyscreechingsong · 4 months
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Alfred knows Danny from long ago during his secret service days. He always found the other odd, but his company was enjoyable enough to overlook. They were friends for a short while. Danny even saved his life once or twice. However, despite their trust in each other, they didn’t keep in touch. It was like Danny disappeared and he never heard from the jolly man again. That is until Danny showed up at the Wayne manor decades later looking the same as when they parted ways carrying the daughter he talked so much about.
Danny stood on the front porch with a toddler Ellie in his arms. She’s been behaving wonderfully. The new environment gave her curious self something to look at and distract her from a tantrum.
He rings the doorbell awkwardly with her in one arm and a bag of supplies resting on his shoulder.
If things were any different he wouldn’t be here, but he’s got to do what he’s got to do even if it’s the last scenario.
Footsteps can be heard on the other side before it opens to reveal a boy in sweatpants and a hoodie. It’s a little warm for the summer and Danny expects they have an expensive electric bill for this large place.
The kid, Damian Wayne he remembers, scowls. He gives Danny a once over with narrowed eyes.
“How’d you get through the gate?” Damian demands.
Danny blinks and adjusts Ellie on his hip.
“I walked of course.” Damian grows even more suspicious and Danny decides to change the subject. “I’m Danny. Danny Fenton. And this little monster is Ellie. Want to say hello, Ells?”
Ellie looks at Damian for all of three seconds before losing interest.
“No.”
Danny sighs. Yea, he was expecting that answer. It’s her favorite word at the moment.
“Why are you here?” Damian asks.
Straight to the point then.
“I’m looking for Alfred Pennyworth. Is he around? It’s urgent.”
“What is it concerning?” Damian straightens his spine to appear taller but it doesn’t change the head difference.
Danny sets Ellie down on the brick when she won’t stop squirming to be let down. She doesn’t waste a moment wandering away to investigate her surroundings. Damian raises a brow while watching her.
“I’m cashing in that favor he owns me.”
That got the boy’s attention. He studies the adult for a moment before opening the door wider for the both of them to enter.
Danny manages to wrangle Ellie into the house with Damian’s judgmental gaze following them. The bag had slid down to his elbow when he bends down to hold Ellie’s hand to steady her.
It’s as Damian is closing the front door that a man comes around the corner in a butler uniform. The same man he was looking for.
Alfred freezes after registering who was in front of him. The older of the two sighs heavily. Shoulders back and chin high, as expected he approaches this situation with a level head and posh dignity.
“Daniel,” addresses Alfred. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Danny cringes. He really should have called with a warning but there wasn’t time. He also always hated it when Alfred refused to use Danny’s preferred nickname, a sort of teasing that was consistent. If Alfred was anything, he’s stubborn enough to do what he wants and get away with it.
“Sorry, Alf. Next time for sure.” Danny sends a cheeky grin that doesn’t impress anyone. He glances over at his daughter to see her trying to touch the expensive looking vase on a side table.
“Ellie!” He dashes over to pull her away which immediately starts a struggle war and fussing. He knows if he lets this continue it will turn into a full blown tantrum.
“That’s not ours, we can’t touch it without permission.” She whines in frustration. “Do you want to ask if it’s okay to touch? Gently?”
Ellie thinks about it a second before looking up at him. Danny nods in understanding and turns her a bit to look at the two spectators.
“Toush?” She asks with an adorable chubby arm raised to point at the vase.
“Are you going to break it?” Damian asks with folded arms.
“Master Damian, I’m sure that’s not her intention.” Alfred turns with a smile back to Ellie. “That vase is fragile. Can you be very careful?”
Obviously her answer is a confident nod of the head and immediately trying to reach out again. Danny helps to lift her and hold her wrist steady.
She pets the vase like a kitten, feeling the raised edges of the design with her little hand. After a few long moments Danny pulls her away to set her on his hip like before, earning an annoyed huff in his direction for his efforts.
“Very good, Ellie. I knew you could do it.”
She hides her face in his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to send a look at Alfred. The older man understands immediately and inclines his head before turning to walk further into the house.
“It was nice meeting you,” Danny shoots Damian before following Alfred to what appears to be a parlor a few rooms away.
“I shall fetch some tea.”
Danny shakes his head as he sits.
“No time. I’m in a rush.”
Alfred eyes him up and down before gingerly sitting in the armchair across from him.
“Yes, so I have noticed.”
In other words, spill your guts for abruptly intruding like you have.
“Something…urgent has come up-“
“I assumed as much.”
“-and I know how good you are with kids-“
“Daniel, you cannot expect me to-“
“You owe me,” Danny says firmly. Alfred leans back at the reminder. He knows Danny would never hold that over his head without a good reason. “I have no one else to go to, to look after her. I normally would just take her with me, but I- it’s gotten dangerous. Too dangerous for her.”
He looks to Alfred with desperate eyes. Ellie tries to squirm out of his arms, which reflexively tighten securely around her middle. He can see the dark bags under the younger eyes.
Alfred sighs.
“How long?”
Danny sags and Ellie slips out of her father’s arms as soon as the chance presented itself. Alfred would need to keep a close eye on her in the future.
“A week, two, three tops.”
Alfred sends an unimpressed look and Danny cringes but doesn’t redact his statement.
“Anything I need to know?”
Danny looks down at the hastily packed diaper bag like it had all the answers.
“We’re kind of in the middle of potty training so I threw in some pull ups but those will go quick. She hates carrots. Won’t go to sleep without a bedtime story. Don’t give her any sugar after four or she’ll turn into a monster. Oh, and her powers are coming in so I packed a shield for at night.”
Alfred raises a single eyebrow.
“Could you be more specific?”
Danny waves it off like it was no big deal.
“Just the normal stuff. Invisibility, intangibility, and flight. It’s all very weak and sporadic right now. Keep calm until she figures it out on her own. She’s just learning.”
“So you are leaving a child in my care for an unknown amount of time, a child that can disappear, walk through walls, and fly. Anything else?”
Danny rubs the back of his neck guiltily.
“Why do you always have to make everything sound so…” He sighs heavily, glancing over at Ellie who has managed to take every blanket out of the basket in the corner and crawled in to make a nest out of the materials. He smiles fondly.
“I’ve probably forgotten something, but I know you can handle it. You can take care of her.”
Danny then stands and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it over.
“My number is at the top in case of emergencies. Her favorite stuffy is in the bag, she won’t sleep without it. Her favorite word right now is ‘no’. I wrote down anything I could think of, which you probably can’t even read my chicken scratch…”
Alfred gently takes the paper from his hand and Danny slowly makes his way to the messy corner.
“Hey, Elles,” he says softly, far softer than anything Alfred has heard from him. Usually he was a rambunctious, jovial loudmouth, but right now he was hesitant. Prolonging the farewell they both know needs to happen with how urgent this mysterious problem was.
Ellie looks up for a moment before going back to maneuvering her fort.
“I gotta go away for a while. Alfred here will be watching over you while I’m gone, okay?”
That got her attention. For a child that young, she knew something was wrong, but didn’t know what. And now her dad, her protector, was leaving.
“No.”
Danny folds his lips together, expecting the response but still not ready to go through the hard part of leaving.
“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I am, but I have to go. I’ll be back when I’m finished.”
“No!”
Danny sighs and reaches in to pull her into his arms. She fights him valiantly, but he was stronger and bigger.
“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
They might as well have been empty words for the lack of effect it had on the struggling toddler. Danny sways with her for a few beats until he gets an idea.
“Danielle, look.”
He makes sure she’s watching as he creates a loop of ice, infused with his ectoplasm and therefore, his signature.
“Hold out your hand,” he coax.
She does so with a sniffle and he gently moves the glowing green ghost ice around her wrist to make an indestructible, unmeltable bracelet. He shrinks it until he’s sure it won’t fall off and won’t be too tight either.
“There. Now you have a piece of me wherever you go. Even when we’re far apart.”
She pointedly doesn’t look at him.
“I love you, Ellie. I’ll be back soon.”
He kisses her forehead, breathes in her soft scent, and turns to Alfred. The older man is watching carefully and makes his arms available for a new passenger.
With a deep breath Danny hands her over, Ellie immediately starts whining and tears fall from her eyes.
“Hey, you’ll be okay. Alfred here is a mighty warrior. He’ll keep you safe. I trust him.”
He does his best to wipe away her tears but he has to physically step away when she reaches for him. Instead he looks to Alfred.
Alfred holds her securely and nods in assurance.
“Not to worry. Danielle and I will be too busy to notice your absence.”
Danny smiles at the effort but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He can’t resist petting her head one last time, her pigtails in disarray, and wiping her tears from her cheeks.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he promises, marking it with another kiss to her head before backing away again. He looks at Alfred sending his gratitude without words. Alfred accepts it with a slight incline of the head. Danny nods once and leaves before he can’t.
The door opens and the young boy from earlier stumbles back with a glare to hide his embarrassment.
“Master Damian-“
Danny holds up a hand to stop Alfred. Of course the boy would eavesdrop, what did either of them expect?
The young father leans down to get eye level with Damian, looking him straight in the eye with seriousness. Damian straightens at the attention.
“It’s very important Ellie is safe and occupied while I’m away. It would mean a lot to me if you would help Alfred do that.”
Damian folds his arms.
“What would I get out of that useless goal?”
“What would you want?”
“Daniel, Master Bruce would not-“
“A knife,” Damian interrupts. “Not just any knife though. It has to be special.”
Danny hums in thought, studying Damian for a moment, almost making the boy squirm.
“Deal.”
He holds out his hand and Damian shakes it after a second of hesitation. Danny nods to the boy, then nods to Alfred, and he’s finally out the door making a portal as he walks from the gentle breeze of outside to the chill of ectoplasm, transforming into his kingly attire as he crosses the threshold.
The GIW had a lot to answer for and he couldn’t hold his subjects back any longer. The United States had declared war against the Infinite Realms and he would be the one to answer.
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