#even though by the time this con happens I might not really care
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There are variations of autistic confusion when it comes to changing and evolving special interests.
The autistic confusion when suddenly something decides to briefly become a special interest out of nowhere.
Vs
The autistic confusion when that something does not make sense because they are a pair of villains in a very bad relationship when you almost exclusively have interests around strong, good and storied female characters but then they throw the gay at you and suddenly you are trying to persuade your partner that they need a green dress at the very least for a con in a couple weeks time… dammit marvel, stop feeding me characters!!
#black widow#natasha romanoff#natalia romanova#marvel#buckynat#winterwidow#mcu#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agathario#rio vidal#gay characters#i can’t#stop making me like bad guys!#also the lesbian and pan bracelets are me and my partner#now to crochet a sling#and make the damn necklace#even though by the time this con happens I might not really care#stupid marvel messing with my stupid brain#I can’t handle vintage lesbians
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yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)
── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst
── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.
or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.
── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot
── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(
songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way
After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.
Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing.
When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks.
You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince:
“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’”
There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up.
“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”
Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.
“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”
Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”
“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad.
“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?”
Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there.
You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily.
“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”
Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy.
“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”
“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.”
The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level.
A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”
It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes.
Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him.
You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after.
“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.”
The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping.
“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”
Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”
“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner.
Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence.
“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question.
“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod.
“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’
Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement.
“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her.
Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul.
“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.
“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.
“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.
“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”
The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.
“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall.
“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat.
“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”
Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice.
Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.
“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed.
“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”
“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life.
“You tried any dating apps?”
It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”
“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?”
“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”
“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?”
The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”
“Never.”
There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces.
“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”
“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”
“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”
For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes.
The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars.
“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!”
“Right…”
The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too.
Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match.
“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”
The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace.
about 8 years ago . . .
“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail.
“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’.
“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry.
“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.
“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch.
“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”
You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.
“You still there?”
“Yeah, it’s just…”
“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response.
“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”
“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”
Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”
“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.
“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.
By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.
“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”
Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself.
You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality.
“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”
The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office.
“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.”
Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone.
Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type.
Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more.
It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit.
Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders.
As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it.
The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties).
Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.
You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)
Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.
Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile.
You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.
You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?
The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds.
Kazuki: Hell yeah they are!
Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?
You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol).
You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so?
You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice.
You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)
Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say.
Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…
Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other.
Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it.
His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this).
You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too.
You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?
Kazuki: It’s more than mutual.
Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago.
The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.
You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.
Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)
The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.
You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half.
In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’.
You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way.
Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult.
“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’”
When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.
Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call.
“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet.
“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.
“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body.
Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!”
It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother.
The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking.
“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.”
You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”
“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention.
“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki.
“Come in, hon!”
After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room.
“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception.
“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment.
Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time.
“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”
“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly.
Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana.
“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate.
“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you.
“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone.
“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue.
“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them.
“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here.
“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know.
“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.
“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–”
“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him.
“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it.
“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something.
“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”
You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder.
You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t.
And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact.
You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase.
“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger.
Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?”
You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now.
“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway.
“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go.
“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”
Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs.
“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’.
You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children.
“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep.
“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him.
“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted.
Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight.
When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity.
Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say.
He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date.
Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.
Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further.
Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now.
Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot.
Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first.
In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened.
Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out.
And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch.
“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”
“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks.
Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?”
He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom.
“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”
With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you.
“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.”
By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation.
“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.”
Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting.
“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”
Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow.
“What?”
“Let me take you to dinner.”
You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious.
“Wait, what?”
“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d.
“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance.
“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness.
Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating.
Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?”
The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”
He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes.
“I don’t know…” you trail.
“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”
Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow.
Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway.
“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you.
“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.
“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.”
“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?”
Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.”
“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter.
“Those kids, man.”
“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.
“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”
“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed.
When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate.
You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating.
This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed.
There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit.
Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental?
“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence.
Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more.
“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”
“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”
“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.”
The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver.
Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers.
Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door.
The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?”
“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.
“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.
“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time.
Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?”
“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?”
“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you.
“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?”
“Gojo.”
Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal.
The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly.
“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”
“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.”
While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat.
If I ever leave you, baby
You can say I told you so
And if I ever hurt you
You know, I hurt myself…
Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence.
You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water.
“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?”
Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows.
When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?”
Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?”
You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?”
Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly.
Is that any way for a man to carry on
Do you think I want my loved one gone
Said I love you
More than you’ll ever know
More than you’ll ever know
“So funny,” you counter.
Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?”
Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass.
“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased.
“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment.
“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?”
Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy.
“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed.
“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–
“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!”
“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.”
“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.
“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.”
The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song.
[...] I don’t even know how to love you
Just the way you want me to
But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)
Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)
“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns.
To fall in love
To fall in love
To fall in love with you…
“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them.
“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”
Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame.
“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”
Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage.
I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)
At a moment like this
But I’m going to learn how to do
All the things you want me to
Yes, I’m ready
(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready
To fall in love
To fall in love
To fall in love right now
“Yes.”
The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems.
The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were.
Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down.
There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling.
Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful.
Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs.
The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–
“Jump.”
Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay.
Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles).
“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it.
“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs.
“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.”
Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago.
“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”
“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?
“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.”
With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees.
Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound.
Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core.
The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love.
“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.”
You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you.
Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation.
For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?
“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins.
“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?”
You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue.
“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”
“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit.
“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.”
Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor.
He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them.
But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.
“They suit you,” you whisper.
“Yeah?”
You nod your head, “mhm.”
Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes.
Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone.
God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand.
As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you.
Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears.
The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers.
Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously.
“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.”
Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm.
Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind.
“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.”
The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You.
Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally.
Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt.
“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give.
“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.”
Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium.
“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.”
Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days.
Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp.
Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more.
“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration.
By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”
Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.”
Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you.
Soon, that silence is broken.
“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.
“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads.
“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying.
“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”
“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”
“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”
That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you.
“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages.
“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants.
“Shit!”
Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you.
“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!”
Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.
“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom.
Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.
comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!
© arachine 2023
#art by: @yamada_souko (twt)#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk smut
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Update to this prompt I posted a little while ago. Scroll to the bottom for a link to the story.
Tim gets injured while not wearing his suit one night.
Bernard, who has never met Tim before, finds him and takes him home. He ends up losing his memory and Bernard decides to let him move in while he heals, unaware that he's really Red Robin.
Bruce and the rest of the family can't find Tim anywhere.
Days turn into weeks.
Weeks turn to months.
All without a trace.
Tim and Bernard are getting used to living together, and both the pros and cons of being roommates.
Tim will sometimes have nightmares or flashbacks, but he’s also started to heal.
His family ends up torn, with Jason, Dick, and Steph convinced he’s alive, while Bruce, Cass and Damian have all resigned themselves to believing that he died.
One night, Tim and Bernard take a nighttime walk to a convenience store and witness a robbery.
Tim stops the guy on instinct and has a flashback of fighting with Nightwing. He assumes he was a criminal and runs off before the clerk can thank him.
Something the clerk mentions to Officer Dick Greyson when he arrives to arrest the thief. The clerk hands over the surveillance footage, which ends up being proof that Tim survived.
Dick is overjoyed, but Steph and Jason point out that he isn't being held hostage. He's free and yet never contacted them.
Was he in hiding?
From them?
Or for his own protection from someone?
Or maybe the civilian he was with had done something to him?
Whatever the reason, they decide against telling the rest of the family until they can figure out what's going on.
They begin following Tim, keeping their distances.
Tim, meanwhile, after ‘remembering’ being a criminal, can't stop obsessing over his scars, and who he might have hurt to receive them. He keeps thinking about the convenience store clerk and Bernard, wracked with guilt about all the things he may have done.
Bernard stays by him the whole time, doing his best to calm him down.
Tim doesn't tell him what's on his mind out of fear of being kicked out, and Bernard assumes the event was too stressful for him and doesn't push him to talk.
Eventually, the two of them fall asleep together, and Tim promises to make up for his past crimes by protecting Bernard. Things gradually go back to normal with Bernard going to work and Tim, who has no valid id, staying home and taking care of the apartment.
Nightwing, Red Hood, and Spoiler take turns watching Tim and Bernard.
They still haven't told their family, but know they can't just follow Tim forever.
Before they can decide on their next move, though, Cass bumps into him while grocery shopping. She freezes and he doesn't recognize her, but Dick, Jason, and Steph have to come clean.
Cass is pissed, Bruce wants to bring Tim home immediately, and Damian points out that he might not even want to come home, and that they should leave him be.
They decide that, before they make their decision, they need to talk to Tim. Maybe he really did just decide to quit.
Tim, meanwhile, has been using his free time while Bernard is at work to help people who need it. He becomes somewhat of a neighborhood vigilante, believing that he needs to make up for his past crimes.
Most of the injuries he incurs are minor and easy to hide from Bernard, but one day he takes a knife to the arm.
Bernard freaks out and tries to give him stitches in their kitchen, but then has to convince Tim to let him take him to a hospital.
Tim, not wanting to be arrested for crimes he doesn't remember committing, therefore leaving Bernard alone, argues that he's fine.
It doesn't hurt that bad.
He'll heal.
Bernard gets frustrated and shows off his own scars, which he had worked hard to always keep hidden. He explains what happened to him, and how his family disowned him as a result of ending up in the cult, and that he promises he won't put Tim in a situation where he could be in danger.
He asks to know why Tim is so adamant against going to the hospital and Tim reluctantly admits what he's pieced together from his flashbacks.
Bernard is shocked to find out that he might have been sharing his apartment with a criminal, but reasons that that must be why Tim knows how to fight.
Deciding to focus on the problem at hand, Bernard convinces Tim to at least let him take him to Leslie’s place, as she doesn't ask questions.
Leslie proceeds to ask questions, prompting Bernard to be the one to answer them for Tim.
Leslie comes to the conclusion that Bernard is answering so that Tim doesn't say the wrong thing, and only grows more concerned when she tries to subtly give him openings to slip her a message or some sort of sign that he needs help and he doesn't.
She decides that, since he's acting like he's never met her, she'll play along.
Once Bernard and Tim leave, she calls Bruce and tells him what happened.
Bruce decides it's time to step in because something is clearly wrong with Tim.
Tim and Bernard head back home and have a long talk about everything Tim's been hiding and what he's been up to.
Bernard wonders if Tim might be wrong about his assumption that he was a criminal, but Tim remembers stalking Batman, fighting with Nightwing, Robin trying to kill him and a few other things.
Tim was a criminal, and he's certain of it.
At a loss of what else to do, Bernard convinces Tim to get takeout for dinner, since neither have eaten yet.
Tim agrees and they walk down to Tim's favorite place.
On the way there, Batman and Nightwing show up and order them into the Batmobile.
Tim manages to fight off Nightwing as Batman is driving and Nightwing isn't expecting Tim to fight him and escapes with Bernard.
Their suspicions all appear to be confirmed; the Batfam believe Tim is being controlled by Bernard, while Bernard and Tim believe he's a wanted criminal.
Tim decides he needs to leave, since he's obviously being hunted, but Bernard refuses to let him.
Not alone, at least.
Tim wants Bernard to stay safe, which means away from him, but Bernard is just as worried about Tim's safety. They argue, but ultimately both find an abandoned building to hide in together.
They decide to take turns sleeping and Tim falls asleep wondering what sort of crime he committed to warrant the Bats searching for him. He ends up dreaming of the night he found his father's body and wakes up believing that he killed him.
Bernard has nodded off at this point and Tim needs to clear his head so he heads up to the roof to process what he dreamed about.
The bats decide that, for their safety and his, Tim will need to be taken by force and they can figure out what's wrong with him once they have him back home.
They track them to the abandoned building and break in, but only find Bernard.
Bernard ends up getting captured quickly and taken to the batcave for questioning.
Tim, who witnessed the abduction but hadn't been quick enough in getting down from the roof to do anything, decides it's time to go on the offensive against the bats.
He has had enough flashbacks to piece together that Batman is Bruce.
He's tired.
Angry.
Frustrated.
He's been living for months without knowledge of who he used to be and having to deal with random flashbacks and trying to piece together what his life before looked like.
The bats taking Bernard is his last straw.
He decides to start by breaking into the manor and looking for Bernard there.
Bernard, meanwhile, is desperately trying to convince Bruce and the others that he has no idea where Tim is, that he didn't do anything to Tim, and that Tim has amnesia.
They don't believe him until Tim shows up and goes all-out trying to attack them and escape with Bernard, but Bernard is the one who manages to calm him down and convince him to listen to his family.
It takes a while, and a lot of proof, but Tim finally regains his memory.
He and Bernard officially start dating and move back in together.
They like to joke that Bernard had the craziest introduction to the family, despite being a civilian.
#batman#batfam#tim drake#dick grayson#bruce wayne#jason todd#red robin#batfamily#nightwing#red hood#robin#damian wayne#cassandra cain#black bat#orphan#spoiler#stephanie brown#timber#timbern#amnesia#the outline alone#ended up being 1300 words#writing prompts#writing prompt#prompt#prompts#batdad#batfam prompt
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LANKY: 10:49 P.M — Touya Todoroki
A/N: I 100% THINK HE’S JUST LANKY & LEAN, also please let me know if you guys would like this to be like mini series of different scenarios that you guys would like to request or any form of elaboration on certain parts of the text or plot in general!! I would like to include that the reader has a water quirk which can be manipulated into ice or for healing.
Warning(s): fluff/angst ☁️ , Suggestive?, Post-War and after recovery (few years later), “friends”
SYNOPSIS: Staying the night over at the Todoroki estate for Touya, where you notice just how lanky & lean he is and maybe more.
Glancing at the clock it was currently 10:49 P.M and Touya was taking a while to come out the shower . He’d been in the bathroom for almost twenty minutes now. Letting out a sigh you call out to him from the bedroom, “Touya! Did you drown?!”
The sound of water stopping was heard as he emerged into the living room, rubbing his wet hair with a towel before putting on a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He looked like a wet cat. Looking at him, you question him, “Did Natsuo give you a swirly, what happened?”, you tried not to snicker as he deadpanned at what you had just said, “Maybe looking like I came out the oven wasn’t my worst option”, he responded back unamused.
Shaking his head at your dumb comment and going into the kitchen to make himself some Soba. His eyes were still purple from beneath, but he wasn’t crying blood anymore, thankfully. Looking at him as he sauntered around the kitchen, you notice how his frame wasn’t particularly buff to say the least however he was both lanky and lean. Not saying that he didn’t look attractive, he was most definitely attractive and the way he looks now and for however long you’ve known him is just again..very attractive.
“At least wash the dishes”, seeing as he left the kitchen.
“I did, but you were too busy looking at me to notice”, seeing how your gaze had been on his overall being the entire time. Giving him a blank look, “You wish”. You went back to scrolling through instagram. “I understand”, he replied. “I’m simply to hard to ignore”, pushing his snow liked hair back as he expressed his very charismatic-self. ‘Charismatic my ass’, rolling your eyes at his actions.
After a few minutes of silence you decided to ask about his day and how his rehabilitation classes went, which was more than he usually gave you, even though he normally answered you with lots of questions that you answered. “So, what do you think of that guy, Fuyumi told me about?”, you inquired. Touya didn’t have much of an interest in what you and his sister talked about, but you both talked a lot so he was more or less obligated to listen to you two talk. And when he listened well enough then he would respond back.
“Not your type, he’s to bland and doesn’t have any humor”, Touya mumbled as he sorted through a series of movies to watch. It was true though, he didn’t think the guy was interesting enough to keep you hooked, so he just wasn’t worth your time. Plus he had never really liked that guy anyways. “What was your first impression of him, anyway?”, he questioned you as he bore his eyes into the tv. “You don’t usually care to be interested in anyone”.
Snorting, thinking back to the first impression you had gotten from the guy, “Total nut job..honestly he might be your soulmate” you said trying not to laugh as you glanced at him from the side. “I’m going to end up in Tartarus if you keep it up”, watching as a tic formed on the side of his head. “And I won’t even put up with the pain of it…”, you continued teasing him with your words knowing full well that he was a little shit.
Looking at the tv after Touya had finally picked a movie to watch you decide to lay down next to him. You eyes were feeling heavy after the first 30 minutes of the movie, you honestly just wanted to wrap your arms around Touya’s waist and simply knock out. But he wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of physical contact despite being severely touched starved, so wrapping your arms around him sounded like a bad idea. Closing your eyes you let out a yawn, head swaying slightly side to side before it ends up on to Touya’s marred purplish shoulder.
He released a heavy sigh as he carefully adjusted you in order to continue watching the movie. Suddenly he felt an arm wrap around his torso, trying to pull him closer. “What a weirdo”, he snickered, his white tufts tickling his neck. It was so easy to just hold him and not let him go, his arms and hand were perfectly grabable, his body which was despite being burnt was awfully nice to lean on. His body radiated such comforting heat as the result of his quirk.
You were most likely going to be in deep sleep for a while and the movie had been completely disregarded as you were practically preventing him from being able to watch. At points like this he let you do whatever you wanted, however he just hadn’t expected you to be intertwining your legs with his and hugging him as you slept.
Everything felt hot, especially with you tugging on his shirt so much that your hands were touching his bare torso. He didn’t understand why you had looked at him as if he had been so perfect, especially not when his body is burnt from the use of his quirk. His skin was rugged, nothing soft but rather rough to touch…but here you were sliding your arms beneath his shirt trying to pull him close as inhumanely as possible.
You liked how lanky he was, it made him seem smaller despite his height. To you everything looked good about him, his arms, his body, his personality. Him.
It was more than him being lanky or lean. It was just him.
The clock now read 12:00 A.M.
#mha x reader#my hero academia x reader#touya todoroki#mha touya#dabi fluff#dabi x reader#todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#bnha x reader#bnha#bnha dabi#todoroki family#todoroki fluff#bnha touya#boku no hero academia#x reader#anime#fandoms#natsuo todoroki#natsuo x reader#fuyumi todoroki#mha fuyumi#bnha fuyumi#mha fanfiction#mha dabi#touya angst#dabi angst#little angst#mha angst
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A little favor
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader
summary: You fucked up a trade and want to make it up to Joel
warnings: smut | dub-con, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, virginity loss, daddy kink, a touch of dacryphilia, dumbification, and a bit self insert
"I'm sorry" you sobbed "I'm so sorry Joel, I swear I didn't see them and when I did it was too late and- and I'm sorry I didn't run in sooner" you were out of breath "I'm so sorry"
Your face was drenched with your own tears, even the sleeves of your shirt were in similar shape.
You had fucked up
Once again, one might add, but that's not the point.
You were supposed to keep guard as he traded some things, you didn't really know what, he never told you what, or anything really.
He just brought you with him and stuck you outside to look out for FEDRA people.
That's how it had been for the past month,
And this time,
it went wrong.
The FEDRA people had in fact come, and you hadn't noticed them until they were practically in front of you.
It was a miracle you had gotten out of there alive
as for the other guy, the guy Joel was trading with... well, he hadn't been so lucky.
And so now here you were, sobbing on his - your- bed, because you had made a mess again, and he had to clean it up.
"I'm sorry"
God, did you never get tired of saying that?
"y/n" his deep voice interrupted your sobs
You looked up at him, or at what you could make out of him from the glassy fog your eyes had become.
"It's fine sweetheart" he raised your chin, settling in front of you.
Another tear escaped your eyes, and you sniffled
"but-" you bit your trembling lip "I was stupid- I was- I was inattentive"
"you should be mad" your voice cracked
But you knew he never did, get mad, and if he did, he certainly didn't let you see it.
You had no idea why, or how, all the men in your life before him (which were just two, your father and your ex-boyfriend) would get mad at the littlest thing, from you spilling some water on the precious - worthless-coffee table to you not understanding something as quickly as they wanted you to.
You weren't the smartest of the bunch, never were.
"at least she's pretty"
that's what everyone always said,
at least she's pretty,
at least she's not gonna realize you're insulting her even when you do it right in front of her, she's not gonna be an engineer but at least she's gonna find a man to take care of her.
"men don't like it when women are smarter than them anyway"
Every single phrase, every word was engraved in your brain,
in your tiny little brain, a mantra you repeated over and over, until inevitably, it became the truth.
It still amazed you how diffrent he was though,
You expected it, at this point, to be called stupid and worthless for the tinies mistake, but he had never as much as raised his voice.
He had never called you names,
he had never laughed at you, or made fun of you, or treated you like you were used to, like you were supposed to.
"I'm not mad"
"why?"
"it was a mistake" he shrugged "it happens"
"it happens a lot to me tough"
"well that's fine" his voice was warm "everyone's diffrent"
You still couldn't wrap your head around it "why are you so nice to me?"
He smiled "I like you"
"b-but I'm-" you avoided his glare "I'm-" you didn't even know how to say it,
how to describe how useless you actually were
"Baby it's fine" his thumb stoaked your cheek.
"what about the cargo?" you asked, raising your head again
"We lost it"
"I'm so sorry" another sob "it's my fault"
The room fell silent
"Can I do anything?"
You saw something happen behind his eyes
"really" you urged " Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"
"I can look for other contraband" you suggested even though both of you knew you had no absolute idea where to look for it "I can-" you were already out of ideas "I can cook dinner"
God that was stupid
He smiled and you wanted nothing more than to be invisible.
"Please tell me what I can do" other tears fled your eyes
"Please daddy"
Shit
You instinctively covered your mouth
You didn't mean to, it had just come out.
You were scared to look up at him, to see the amused grin he would have on his face as he made fun of you in his mind,
but as you wiped the tears off your face, glancing up at him, the only thing you did see, were his eyes darker than you'd ever seen them before.
"I'm sorry" you whispered "I didn't mean to-"
"don't apologize"
"b-but-"
"There is something you could do" his thumb was tracing your jawline as your eyes sparked with excitement
"Really?"
His lips twitched into a grin
"What?"
"well" he was looking at you differently than before "you could do me a little favor"
"anything" you immediately answered, making him chuckle.
"it's more of a personal one" he explained, moving some hair out of your face "more... physical"
You frowned, confused, and he took one of your hands to slowly place it on his crotch.
Oh
"I've never- I've never done that before"
"I can teach you"
You looked up at him, your big eyes hiding under your lashes.
You really wanted to make up for your mistake.
"ok" you murmured
"good girl" he said, as a strange heat pooled between your legs "undo my belt" he ordered, and you looked at him hesitantly before obliging, your nervous fingers fumbling with the buckle for a moment before you were able to undo it.
You looked up at him for approval and he only nodded, urging you to keep going.
So you did, you undid his zipper and slowly pulled his pants down.
Something hard was straining against his boxers, you could see the tent that had formed.
"Don't be scared sweetheart" he reassured you, and you gulped as you timidly pulled his underwear down.
Oh wow
It was big,
not that you had any means of comparison but it definitely looked big.
He must have noticed your eyes widening because he said "don't worry baby, I'll go slow"
You nodded, hesitantly taking it in your hands
"w-what do I do?" you asked, looking up at him, and you felt his member twitch in your palms.
"oh baby you're so precious" he groaned, and you genuinely didn't know if it was a compliment or not.
"you just have to open your mouth,"
You did it
"just like that baby, perfect" he praised
"and put it in"
You looked at his threatening dick and then at him, fear clear in your iris.
How was all that gonna fit?
"It's gonna fit" he read your mind "don't you trust me?"
You did.
You trusted him more than anyone.
And so you did it, you widened your mouth even more, and took him in, looking at him questioningly once your lips were wrapped on not even half of his shaft.
He groaned nonetheless "that's good baby, you can move now"
You did, you started experimentally bobbing your head up and down, and according to his heavy breathing, you seemed to be doing a fairly good job.
"hollow your cheeks for me baby"
You obeyed and were rewarded with a loud groan
You looked up at him, your eyes evidently asking -is this good?-
“That’s good” he breathed, his hand going to the back of your head “that’s good baby, keep going”
The room filled with a lewd noise as your lips and chin soaked with saliva.
You forced yourself to take more of him in, but your jaw was begging you to stop.
You tried to lean away but his hand didn’t let you.
“Go deeper baby”
You peeked at him worryingly
“You can do it, sweetheart”
“Don’t you wanna make it up to daddy?”
You hummed in agreement around his cock,
of course you did.
"then be good and choke on it"
you could feel your heart beating in your ears, but you ignored it as you did what he said, taking all of him in, until his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag softly.
A tear fled your eye, but this time it wasn't because of an emotion, it wasn't fear or patheticness, no, it was just reflexes, and for once, you liked it.
"that's it" he breathed "that's my good girl" he said, and you found yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, desperate for some friction.
"fuck- that's it baby" he hissed as you kept moving your head, careful of every movement "that's it- keep going"
" 'knew you could take all of me baby" his fingers grazed your chin, as his eyes somehow darkened some more "do you think you could take daddy inside of you?"
His hand left your head and you leaned away
"inside?"
wasn't this already inside?
He seemed pretty inside to you.
"yes baby inside"
he leaned down to get closer to your face.
His fingers found your bare thighs, and danced until they were at the hem of your skirt
"do you think you could take me in your pretty pussy?" he explained better, and your mouth gaped open in surprise,
the real surprise was that your jaw was still able to do that after all that work.
"but-"
"be a good girl for daddy" you felt his digits get under your skirt as he breathed against your mouth "it's just a small favor"
"I've never-"
"I know baby" he pushed you onto the bed "But don't worry, I'll take care of everything" he promised, crawling on top of you "I'll take care of you"
he kissed your neck, a whimper fleeing your mouth "I'll make you feel really good" his quick hands freed you of your shirt and bra before you could even register it, and just after a few moments there went also your skirt and panties.
He hissed as he took you in.
"You've got such a pretty body sweetheart," he said as he kissed it all over "wish I could just stare at it all day" it tickled when he kissed your belly "touch it all day" he murmured against your skin "fuck it all day"
You whimpered as his mouth got inches from when you needed it the most, but he leaned away, taking off his own shirt and stepping out of his pants.
"so pretty" he mumbled as he used your legs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed.
He spit onto your cunt and you hissed, the cold sensation taking you by surprise.
His finger slipped between your folds, coating his digits with your liquids.
He groaned "such a pretty pussy baby"
"here" he drew his finger towards your mouth "taste yourself"
You could feel your cheeks color, but you did it nonetheless, tasting yourself around his finger.
He grinned at the sight "good girl" he hissed as he retracted his finger, and used the hand instead to position his dick at your entrance.
"stay still baby" he grabbed your hip, and you froze.
You could feel his tip graze at your entrance and it both excited you and terrified you.
You shut your eyes, biting your lip, bracing yourself for the inevitable pain.
"no look at me baby" he urged "keep those pretty eyes on me when I'm inside you"
"o-ok" you whispered, and he smiled
"god you're such a good girl" he said, as finally, he pushed himself in, or better, his tip in, and as you felt like a volcano had just erupted inside your body, you winced loudly in pain.
"I know baby" he cooed
no, you don't
You felt a tear travel from the corner of your eyes down to your temple.
He kept going, making you gasp in pain again, your hand gripping the sheets.
"It's-It's too big daddy" you cried out
"no it's not" he didn't give your pleads importance as he kept going, slowly but surely "You can do it, baby"
"I- I can't"
"yes you can" he stated "be a good girl and take it all for daddy"
"b-but it hurts" another tear
"it's gonna feel better after" he promised "trust me"
"daddy" your voice cracked as a sob came through
"come on sweetheart you almost did it"
" 's too much" you cried
"sh- sh- sh" he shushed you wiping some tears off your face " do it for me baby " he said, "you said you wanted to make it up to me"
"I-I do"
"then do" he cocked an eyebrow, and you nodded, sniffling.
"good girl" he praised, as he took your waist and with one harsh move, thrust fully into you.
"see" he admired his cock so deep inside of you "knew you could do it" he smiled at you before retracting his hips, briefly noticing the blood on his dick, and then slamming it back in.
"oh my god" you moaned
"fuck" he grunted " got such a tight pussy baby," he said, developing a rhythm as weak shocks of pain mixed with overwhelming ones of pleasure.
"knew it would be good" he kept talking through labored breaths "just like you sweetheart" he grabbed your hips more harshly as he slammed into you mercilessly now "always so obedient" he purred " so good for me"
"knew you'd take me well"
"knew you'd have such a perfect little pussy"
He bent down and to your surprise, he kissed you, messily and sloppily, but heavenly nonetheless.
"daddy" you whimpered, your back arching against the bed
"It's like it was made for me" he grunted " just designed to have only me in it" he hissed "to be mine"
"is it mine baby?"
"y-yes" you nodded, all the pleasure fogging your brain "it's yours, daddy- all yours"
He kissed you again "and what about you?" he asked, his hips still working like it was his life-long duty to slip you in fucking half "are you mine, sweetheart?"
"yes" you whined
"You're my good girl?" his hand found your clit and you gasped, a breath getting stuck in your throat "you'll do anything I want you to?" he asked, "when I want you to do it?"
"yes daddy-yes"
"that's my girl" he smirked, as you felt a weird pressure form in your stomach.
"so if I tell you that I wanna come inside you're gonna let me right?" he asked breathlessly "because you're my good little girl and I can do anything I want with you?"
"mh-mh" you nodded mindlessly
"that's right baby," he said "I can feel you're coming"
"your pretty walls are squeezing me"
"do you wanna come?"
"yes!" you moaned "yes please daddy "
He crashed his lips with yours "then come all around me sweetheart"
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfic#pedro pascal#pedro Pascal smut#smut#joel miller dumbification#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#joel the last of us
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Can I please request a Lucifer, Vox and Adam x GN! Reader where Lucifer, Vox, Adam becomes a nervous wreck trying to propose to Reader and even at there wedding day as they get themselves ready to step out of there dressing room and do there bows and all :3
what the flip this actually had me getting giddy reading this OFC I WILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU !!
a/n: i’m just doing proposal and wedding hcs so i hope that’s okay!! but they will contain bits of them getting all nervous so dw :)
a/n #2: THIS WAS ACTUALLY SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!
Warnings: Swearing, potential S1 spoilers(?), mentions of sex (no smut)
Adam Proposal + Wedding Headcanons
Adam didn’t understand why he was so nervous to propose, he’s ADAM, he’s the fucking man, he’s the OG DICK. Who could say no to him?
Uh.. actually… you could, technically. And he is — believe it or not — sorta scared out of his fucking mind for that outcome, considering he spent all his time with you, he wasn’t sure what his life would turn to if it didn’t go smoothly, but bitch is a risk taker, so ya boi fuckin’ went for it
Adam, with little-no ideas, went super basic, it was the only way he really knew how, he took you out to a fancy restaurant with fancy ass clothes, as a ‘business meeting’
After waiting over and over for the right moment, he realized he was almost out of time, so he popped down onto one knee
“Look, I don’t really understand this whole… proposal bullshit.” Adam started, fidgeting with the ring box in his hand nervously — whilst trying to maintain his cool,
“But I’m gonna do it, cause I’m the fucking man!” He said as he began to regain his confidence, “So, babe, would you make me the happiest man in Heaven and become the fucking one?” He said, pushing out the ring box, with a nervous but genuine toothy grin.
You said yes! Pffft, he called it! He called it.. heh..
He’s actually a lot more invested in wedding planning then you might think!
Just the reception though, the ceremony is ‘boring as fuck’
He will get slightly emotional during the ceremony, not tears or anything, but for one of the first (and realistically last) times, he has a gentle but proud smile on his face as you walk down the isle and you two do your vows.
THEN, that completely changed at the reception, bro goes batshit crazy. He definitely planned to have some bomb ass music and he is either chugging a shot or dancing his fucking heart out to the music.
Whenever talking to people at the reception, he will sit there and shove his wedding band in their fucking face as if they didn’t just watch you get married.
And then you guys go to your honeymoon basically immediately, and once you two get your ass into your hotel, you’re fucking.
That aside though, Lute was Adam’s best man, no questions asked. 😛
Lucifer Proposal + Wedding
Headcanons
Lucifer hasn’t had to do this since Lilith, which has its pros and cons.
He’s a little more experienced than the other two, due to the fact that he’s obviously proposed before.
He’s less nervous because of this, but that doesn’t mean he just doesn’t care, cause he really wants this to be special for you, he just doesn’t want you to regret it — whatever your response may be.
He bought a ring for you way before he actually proposed, and he always kept it with him, because he never knew when the right moment would strike
And it came when he least expected it…
It was around 3am, and there was hardly anyone out on the streets, surprisingly, you two were taking a nightly stroll, and you had laughed at something he said, and you just looked so beautiful in the Hellish night sky, he knew, right then and there, you were the one.
You continued to stroll down the street in the bloody red, before realizing Lucifer’s absence from your side, you turn around to see the blonde angel on one knee, with a soft smile and tears pricking in his eyes.
“Y’know, I wasn’t too sure about love after what happened with Lilith..” He started, letting out a small sigh to contain himself before continuing, “And, somehow, someway, you came into my life at the best possible time.” He said, taking a pause, trying to regulate his emotions.
“You found me at my worst, and turned me into my best, and my God, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Lucifer said, combing over some of his blonde locks to the side, as tears continued to well up in his eyes.
“Sweetie, you make me so happy, and you love me, silliness and flaws and all, so my love, would you please do me the honor and allow me to be your husband?”
Yes, he got you duck themed wedding rings. Because why would he not?
He’s very insistent on helping with the wedding planning, you’ve done so much for him, so he wants you to be able to sit back and relax and just be able to enjoy the wedding.
And then he crashes and burns, as he realizes, he doesn’t fucking know how to plan a wedding… So you guys split it half-and-half.
He really wants a winter wedding. On Valentine’s Day. With Valentines colors. Please let him have it. He’s so baby, he really wants it.
During the ceremony, he definitely cries. Not too hard core though, a couple tears and sniffles with a proud, dopey smile across his face.
The reception is a more lowkey version of Adam’s, there’s music and shit, but it’s not like a madhouse in contrast lmao.
Luci does make a point to talk to almost every guest, especially if their your family, cause he wants to get to know them.
Also, if there are kids at your wedding, especially if their your relatives, he loves them. He will let them climb all over him, he’ll fly them around a bit, he’ll play with them. I love the idea of Luci playing with kids.
You guys don’t have a honeymoon, though, he’d rather stay at home and make ducks.
Oh yeah, next topic to tackle is… how does he tell you he wants kids…? And when…?
Vox Proposal + Wedding
Headcanons
As much as Vox may say, it’s for business, it’s not. He loves you so much.
Vox wants a lowkey proposal, not a lot of people around, just done and out of the way.
He does it while at a VoxTech event, so the two of you are already dressed up incase some paparazzi come and sneak pictures.
Once he has a bit of spare time, he pulls you out into a private hallway or a balcony, and does his thing. And yes, he glitches
Halfway through your conversation with Velvette, you feel a jerk on your arm and as your being dragged off Velvette gives you two big thumbs up with a toothy grin, while mouthing ‘Goodluck!’ like bitch, the fuck? Good luck for what??
You’re pulled out into the hallway, and shoved into the outside balcony area, you turn after you get your focus back, which is immediately taken away after you see Vox on one knee.
“Dear, zzh— we’ve been through a lot together, ssz— and szzz!- Honestly, it’s not like I even care, szzzz- but, maybe, you’d consider, szz- marrying me?” Vox makes an attempt to proudly hold the ring box to you as he just embarrassed himself, he gives a nervous, toothy, talk show host grin.
Yeah.. Just for business. mhm.
A lot of people are invited to your wedding, it’s fucking Vox, he knows people.
Neither of you plan the wedding, per say, Vox just gets an employee to do all the tedious stuff for you guys and you two give your input when needed.
During the ceremony, Vox doesn’t get emotional, there’s people here who has business deals with, therefore, the show must go on!
But during the reception, when you both have your first dance as spouses, the world for him… goes quiet.
THAT’S when he gets slightly emotional, he leans into your touch and cannot stop whispering to you about how much he fucking loves you.
The reception is a bit more formal, you both go around and talk to guests as Vox does his little host shit, and makes a few business deals.
You guys have a honeymoon, and it’s expensive as FUCK, that was a little surprise for you, he takes you out to the biggest places in all of Hell, only the best for his newly-wedded spouse~
#reqs open#x reader#mio’s writing ! ☆#fanfiction#x y/n#x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x y/n#lucifer x you#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#adam x reader#hazbin hotel adam#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin adam#vox x reader#vox hazbin#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox
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all tied up {part 2}
Pairing: Yunho x f reader
Genre: angst, eventual smut
Word count: 11.9k
Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?
Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts
A/n: I hope you all enjoy the depravity! (and again please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)
Read part 1 here
Read it on ao3
That toe box. That stupid fucking toe box…
"YUNHO, LET ME GO!!" you scream, punching a hand into his side and making him sag ever so slightly.
"Fucking hell, give me a second," he replies, finally slinging you back over his shoulder to your feet.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!" you scream, shoving him as hard as you can, and he rocks back onto his other foot, destabilized only for a second.
"Calm down, Jesus Christ," he snaps, and you move to dart around him, towards the front door you were just dragged through. He's too quick though and grabs you by the arm, your shoulder crashing into the wall as he awkwardly halts your movements. "Y/n, seriously, calm the fuck down." His tone is harsh, low and demanding, and the turn of events has so shocked you, you feel like you might puke.
"You just kidnapped me, and you're telling me to calm down??" you spit, your shoulder stinging from the impact of the wall.
"I saved you from that horrible weather, actually. Not safe for a girl like you to be out there right now," he replies, a chilling smirk on his lips.
"Oh fuck off, you fucking creep," you mutter, desperately trying to free your arm from his grasp.
"Listen I know it's a bit extreme, but you kept ignoring me, and I want to talk. So I did what I had to do, to make that happen," he replies, his voice uncomfortably smooth.
"Yunji is right, you're a fucking sociopath," you respond, eyeing him sharply.
"Yunji?" he asks, his eyebrows cocked.
"Yunji, my best friend, my roommate, who will be very concerned if I don't return home soon. So you'd better fucking let me go, if you don't want the police called," you say, words fiery and sharp as they exit your mouth.
"Why don't you text her and let her know you got caught in the storm, and a kind neighbor let you into their place for protection," he smiles, shaking his head at you like you're dumb.
"Fuck you, fuck offf," you mutter as you knee him hard in the side, managing to pull your arm free for a moment and stumbling towards his front door once again. But again somehow he's faster than you, despite the wind being slightly knocked out of him, and he puts himself between you and the door with a loud slam, your body smashing into his, hard. His right hand moves behind him to slide closed the deadbolt, his broad frame guarding the door, creating a barrier you certainly won't be able to break through.
"You're making this very difficult, y/n," he scolds, shaking his head again.
"ME?? I'M MAKING THIS DIFFICULT??" you scream, falling to the floor in desperation, your mind running out of ideas. The only one that's left is his backdoor, which you know is likely to be locked; but you realize it's truly your last hope, your only remaining option. With a sharp inhale you steady yourself, launching down a hallway you see that leads in that general direction, turning the corner abruptly when you hit a wall, seeing another hallway branching off with more doors leading to other rooms. You continue down this hallway too, even though it's running towards the side of the house, because you really don't have another choice and have no idea where any of these doors might lead you. You're running hard, as hard as you can, bumping into walls and nearly stumbling over a slight blip in the old hardwood floor, catching yourself in time to keep running. You round another corner into what looks like a den, and then you spot it, sliding glass doors that lead to his backyard. You're almost there, your legs only propelled by your adrenaline, and you know he's hot on your trail, his hard footsteps echoing ominously behind you. Sliding the door will open will be awkward, you know that, but you have to try-
You're grabbed again, this time tackled to the ground, a hand coming around your ankle and holding it tight as you flail your other leg, making contact with some part of Yunho's body. Your huge winter coat is making it hard to move around on the floor, your body limited by the layers of clothing and the crumpled position you're currently pinned in.
"Yunho, please, just fucking let me go," you beg, your throat hoarse from your screaming earlier, your lungs lacking capacity from your running. "I promise, I'll talk to you tomorrow, I promise, just please, let me go, please, please." You sound so pathetic, so scared, because you are. You've never felt like this, scared for your life and unsure you'll make it through the rest of the day alive.
"Don't make promises you can't fucking keep," Yunho grumbles, moving on top of you to pin you even tighter, both of your legs awkwardly bent under his and your upper body held down by his arms. His face is only inches from yours now, closer than it's ever been, and you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see what you know is a horrifying look in his eyes.
"No I'm serious, I will talk to you, I promise, I-"
"No you won't. I know you fucking won't," he spits, adjusting his grip on your arms as if he's trying to remind you how trapped you are. "You'd make your mind up, hadn't you? You'd decided you'd much rather we both lose our jobs than you having to speak to me again. You were gonna give up. You weren't going to talk to me tomorrow, or the next day, or ever. If I let you go now, that wouldn't fucking change. Don't lie to me, y/n. I'm not stupid."
Your snarky reply gets lost in your throat, because the way he's read you so easily is utterly disturbing.
"What, are you shocked that I'm right? You're not that hard to read, doll," he continues, chuckling deeply. But I am, to everyone else, you think. You've always been able to hide your intentions easily. Your side is starting to throb, his elbow digging into your ribs, and his words have lit another fire in you, one that comes from the visceral fear that's consuming you.
You snap your head up and bite hard on his shoulder, the only part of him other than his face that you can reach. You're more forceful than even you expect, immediately tasting blood, and it makes you bite even harder, Yunho letting out a sudden cry of pain.
"Fuck, you fucking bi-"
You cut him off with a knee to the groin, the pain from your bite having loosened his nerve enough for you to do so. It weakens him even more, and you're able to move your hips out from under him, painfully wrenching yourself free from his grasp and doing anything you can to inflict pain on his perfect body. You can feel it now that he's on top of you, the curves and lines and hints of lean muscle, and it pisses you off all over again. You're clawing at him, scratching and biting and kicking every which way. His breath is knocked out of him so you both are just breathing heavily, his body grunting with every painful blow, your own voice erupting in a growl when you finally free yourself from him and manage to miraculously make it to your feet.
You're running back the way you came now, back towards the front door which you know how to unlock, a cramp forming sharp in your side from the exertion. You hear his footsteps behind you again, and you know it's a last-ditch effort, but you try with all your might to run as fast as you possibly can. Suddenly you feel your left arm tugged back, your body jolting awkwardly as he makes contact with you, but he's only able to get a good hold on the sleeve of your coat, which now is painfully snaking down your arm and falling off your shoulder. You wrench your arm free from it, spinning to free your other arm too, feeling unburdened now without your coat and able to sprint fast again. As you round the corner you see the front door, the dark stained wood ominous, a warning against entering. Or leaving, you suppose. The whole house is dark, little light coming in from the windows because of the now raging storm, and for the first moment since you've entered Yunho's house you notice a bright flash that must be lightning, followed by a loud rumble of thunder. You know it should be louder, it sounded mere moments after the flash meaning the strike was somewhere nearby, but the snow is just that thick right now, even the deafening sound got lost in it. You wonder if you'll even be able to open the door against the winds and what must be harsh rain, and tears start coming fast down your cheeks as your fears reach new heights. Even if you make it out of here you've got the elements to deal with, and suddenly storming out that door doesn't sound so good. For a brief moment it's almost like you're begging for it, begging for him to grab you again so you don't have to face the reality outside.
Even if it'd only been a passing thought, Yunho answers your sadistic prayer, finally making contact with you again when you're only five feet from the door, his hand crushing as it grips down on your upper arm. You shriek, your shoulder screaming so severely in pain you're worried he's dislocated it. You both awkwardly crash towards the ground again, Yunho coming to his knees as he tries to prevent the fall, your legs sweeping out from under you as you lose your balance. You're still fighting fiercely, and you feel ridiculous for wishing for this now. You'd give anything to be in that fierce, terrifying storm right now, instead of being dragged by your arm and your hair down his hallway, making dents in the walls with your feet as you struggle against his firm grip.
"You're making this really fucking difficult, y/n," he growls, breathing hard from carrying the weight of an entire human down his short hallway. "I don't think you realize how true that is." You're still screaming in pain, tears streaming down your face in waves now as the follicles of your hair are nearly ripped out. "We could have done this another way, but you just had to fucking fight me, as always. I should have known you'd pull some shit like this," he spits, his voice low. You have no idea where you're going, your vision clouded with your tears. Eventually you year a door knob turned, Yunho yanking you hard and turning you around, your legs catching painfully underneath you.
"Ah!" you scream in pain, using your free hand to wipe the tears and snot from your face and finally try to get a good look around you.
"Shut up, this is your fault," he responds, his tone cold in that way that it so often is. It feels so weird to be with him outside of work, the feeling hitting you suddenly as you're finally able to get a glimpse of him; turning your head you see a desk, a dresser, a closet door...
You can only see a glimpse of his bed when you turn to the side, but it's enough to confirm you're in his bedroom. It adds to the fear in you, that you're both in the place he feels most comfortable, that he's confident enough to show you his place of rest. Is he going to kill you? You really wouldn't have pegged him as the type, even if he was an asshole at work; your jokes with Yunji about him being sociopathic were hyperbole, at the time, at least.
"Are you going to kill me?" you ask, finding a strength within yourself that surprises you.
"No," he grunts, his body pinning you down as he reaches under his bed, the position twisting his torso and making his breathing uneven.
"Then what the hell are you doing?" you ask, trying to even out your breathing yourself. Your lungs feel exhausted from screaming, but at least now he isn't dragging you by your hair, so your scalp is getting a break from the severe pain. He doesn't answer you, shoving his arm further under, and then in a flash you see what he's pulled out, in moments feeling it against the skin of your left wrist.
The black rope is even and soft, clearly made for use in the bedroom. It would make you laugh, cause you to poke fun at him, normally, but in this instance your blood runs cold as you feel him forcefully anchor the wrist in place, tying it to something behind you in a way that makes it totally immovable. You struggle against him as he reaches for your other arm, but with the way he has you pinned there's only one outcome to this, and soon your other wrist is being tied down too, right next to your first one. You're well and truly trapped now, not able to move your arms at all, and with them tied behind your back it's hard to move the rest of your upper body.
With another grunt Yunho finishes securing his knots, your arms tied to one of his bed posts, your legs awkwardly folded under you. You look so pathetic and vulnerable in this state, and it makes him feel things he knows he shouldn’t, something that makes his pants feel tighter than they should. Your whole face is a mess from crying, your hair disheveled and tangly; he's never seen you in such a state, so messed up and powerless and ragged.
"Well, here we are," he says, standing up and walking back to the entrance of his room, putting several feet between you as he stares you down, arms crossed.
"What do you want?" you snap, frustrated and disgusted that you can't wipe the small trail of snot that's currently leaving your nose.
"I just want to talk, y/n. I'm not planning on killing you, I'm not that kind of person. I can't believe you'd even ask that," he responds, looking at you sternly.
"YOU FUCKING TIED ME UP, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO THINK?!!" you scream, your body lurching forward with the force of your words. The binding on your wrists squeezes painfully when you do so, and your face scrunches up in agony for a moment, as you set yourself back in place in a slightly more comfortable position.
"May I remind you again, this is all your own fault. You wouldn't talk to me, and like I said, I'm not giving up on this job easily. So tell me, why do you hate me so much?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes and crossing one foot in front of the other in a casual, confident stance.
"Cause you're an asshole??" you say, narrowing your eyes back at him, cocking your head to the side.
"And you're not?" he asks, smirking.
"You know I'm not," you growl, eyebrows furrowed together deeply. "You fucking know I'm not, I'm a fucking angel, actually, and everyone in that damn office loves me, and I never start shit with anyone. You know damn well that you started this, you did, you like messing with me and seeing me suffer, it must be entertaining to you cause your life is so fucking stuffy and perfect and boring. I mean those fucking suits you wear, to our simple little government-funded office. Where do you get off dressing like that??"
"I could ask you the same thing," he quips, raising his eyebrows momentarily. You eye him sharply, the question in your gaze obvious. "Your clothes, y/n, I can't believe Mr. Kangsoo lets you wear skirts that short in the office. Or tight shirts with no bra."
"He's probably never even thought about it, because he's never sexualized me like a fucking creep," you respond, face flushed from the idea that Yunho was looking at you like that for all of these months. It's mortifying, horrifying, and makes you feel suddenly so sick in your body, like you wish you could jump out of it. But you also can't deny that you've looked at him that way too, that the suits do it for you in a way that's almost embarrassing.
"I'm not a creep, I've just never had a boss who allows that," he says, sighing. "I can't deny that it's distracting." The words shutter through you, adding to the sick feeling growing in your low gut. It makes tears form in your eyes again too, from how humiliated you feel by his admission, that every day in the office when he was tormenting you, he was also gawking over your body in this way.
"You're so fucking gross," you mutter, looking at the ground in front of you, adjusting yourself again as your legs begin to ache from the position you're sitting in.
"What else do you think of me?" he prompts, loving to watch you squirm around in clear discomfort on the floor.
"I'm- this is so fucking disturbing Yunho, you're- I'm gonna-" you stop yourself from saying 'report this to the police,' because that visceral fear that he might kill you is still there. Even if he isn't planning on doing it, you don't want to say or do anything that might motivate him to, so you let the words die on your tongue, awkwardly huffing out the breath you'd just taken. Your gaze jumps around, but finds his face again fast, your mind working hard to try to understand what the hell is happening. Does he really just want to talk? Everything he's done seems too severe to be justified by just that, but you've found him hard to read since you met him. As you gaze at his face you see a smile on his lips, a smile that's revealed a small dimple on his left cheek and almost looks sweet. "Why the hell are you smiling?" you snap, your look severe and threatening.
"I'm just glad we're finally talking," he sighs, crossing his feet in the opposite direction. You just fix with him with a look of disgust, not wanting to speak anymore if that's truly what's bringing him joy in this moment. He knows saying that will shut you up for a bit, but he's okay with that, having things of his own that he needs to get off his chest. Now that the two of you are finally alone, away from the office, he can say the things that he's wondered for months.
"Y/n, can I ask you a question?" he starts, but he doesn't wait for an answer before barreling on. "Did you get into our field because you yourself deal with mental health issues, or have some big trauma from your past? I only ask, because, well, everyone at my last office fit that description, and I'm pretty sure everyone at our's does too, even Jongho. Everyone had to go to therapy as a kid, or in college cause of severe anxiety, and that's what led them to wanting to work in this field. Am I right, that that's true for you too?"
Your eyes remain fixed on him but you don't move your head for a second, not nodding or shaking it in an answer. The glassiness that forms in your eyes, though, is impossible to cover up, and Yunho can see from the tears starting to form that he's entirely, absolutely correct.
"You're very neurotic, do you know that?" he continues, and his question almost sounds genuine. "I mean, me hiding your favorite mug has you angry enough to slam the dishwasher closed? That mug isn't even yours, it's a part of the set that Dr. Acharya got the office two years ago as a Christmas present, meaning it belongs to everyone at the office. At least, that's what you told me my first day. Sure, everyone has their favorite mugs, but no one is as obsessively possessive about it as you are. The littlest things set you off, stuff that shouldn't even affect you. What does it matter that I hid the mug? Who the fuck cares what mug you use? You dropped Jongho's favorite mug two months ago and it smashed everywhere, and he didn't freak out about it. He just started using a different one. Did you even know that was his favorite one? No, because he didn't insist on using it every day. Do you realize how ridiculous all of your little routines and patterns are? It's like if everything doesn't go exactly how you want it to, you'll die."
"No, that's you," you sob, his words pulling emotions out of you that you can't even describe. He's the rich spoiled boy, he's the one who's never been told no in his life. He's the one who can't take disturbance to his needs, not you, not you, not me...
Your gut roils at his insult, and you realize in an instant that he's absolutely right, and that probably everyone at the office has thought that about you for years, but tolerated it anyway. Tears flow down your cheeks fast, and god you wish you could somehow wriggle your arms free, and punch that pretty face of his to make him shut up.
"That's not me, actually. I do just fine dealing with whatever comes up at the office each day. I can even handle our arguments just fine, and don’t walk around with a scowl on my face all day. You know everyone is fucking scared to talk to you when you do that, right?"
"Shut up, shut up!!" you scream, the pain in your head growing the more you think about all your failings, all the ways you've fucked up in the last six months. That awful feeling of shame you were so scared to face earlier is hitting you now, and just like you thought, the pain is so bad that you don't think you're going to come out the other side of it alive.
"Don't tell me to shut up just cause I'm right, y/n. Fucking listen and take accountability for once," he snaps, his face more like anger now that you're yelling at him again, instead of just talking. "I don't think you understand how easy it's been for me to read you, since the moment I started at that job. Am I wrong for liking it when something I do pisses you off? Maybe, I can't help that it's fun. I could see this whole conflict unfolding from the first day you turned cold with me, and I knew that there wasn't a fucking thing I could do to stop that. So I thought I'd just let it happen, and try my best to enjoy the ride. I can't change the fact that you're so caught up in your own head that you ca-"
"AAHHHHHHHH!!!!" you scream, just to drown out the noise, just to make the pain in your head stop. The scream is guttural, loud and painful as it exits your throat, but you keep screaming until your lungs are empty because the relief it's providing you is at least something. When you run out of air you take another ragged breath in and then you scream again, this time the sound harsher, your throat struggling to handle it. Tears are forming and streaming down your face faster than they ever have, and your body jerks against the ropes on your wrists, as you try to muster all your strength and somehow finally break free. Unable to do so, you scream again, eyes closed as you heave from the pain, your skin no doubt damaged from rope burn.
"Y/n, y/n, calm down," you hear, Yunho's voice soft and close to you. A hand comes to brush the tears from your cheek, but you jerk away violently, your wrists snagging painfully on the rope at a different angle this time.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" you cry, but it comes out softer than intended because your throat is already so worn, and you cough hard on your next inhale.
"Y/n, seriously, take a deep breath, stop," Yunho says, backing up slightly and not touching you again, but still sitting himself close enough to you that you can feel his presence, feel the warmth radiating off his body. The shock of it makes you realize just how cold you are, only a thin long sleeve shirt on now that your coat has been discarded somewhere in the hall.
"SHUT UP, GET THE FUCK AWAY!!" you cry again, wincing hard from the pain in our throat, your breaths ragged as you try to recover from the pain and ready yourself to scream again.
"Y/n..." he warns, but you just scream again, so entirely afraid of the feelings inside that you can't think to do anything else. "I SAID, STOP!" he finally yells, and the force of it is so strong that it nearly knocks you back, all the breath in your lungs leaving immediately.
You stare at him wide eyed, seeing now that he's crouched down on the floor, about five feet from you. The fear is evident in your gaze, and so is the fact that you're holding your breath and you have absolutely no idea.
"You should breathe, you know," he says, his voice suddenly back to the neutral tone of earlier. You snap back into your body for a moment, shakily taking in the breath your lungs were crying for, and you notice you're shaking, aches and pains searing through almost every part of you. "You don't know what's good for you, do you?" he continues, coming to sit cross legged in front of you, his arms resting on his legs and his hands clasped together. You wriggle in front of him, wincing as you try to move your aching leg to a more comfortable position. You struggle to find it, getting stuck in a spot that's even worse, and you sigh in frustration. "Just sit cross-legged, it'll be more comfortable," he sighs, moving forward towards you, with his hands outstretched. You lurch away from his touch again, and he sits back down, sighing harder. "I was going to help you change your sitting position, cause I know it's hard to do with your arms bound," he says, and you don't have time to wonder why he knows that. You stare back with a hardened gaze, eyes piercing daggers into him. "Will you let me help you?" he asks, and it's the first time all conversation that his tone has changed in that way; it's softer, warmer, and for a moment makes your chest flutter. You don't answer him again, you just stare and stare and try to make sense of his words, but somehow he can tell you won't fight him now, and he moves forward to help you, holding your body up just enough so you can swing your legs under you in this different way.
Once you're sitting you do feel relief, your knees thanking you now that they aren't bearing the majority of your weight, your ankles thankful that they're resting at a much more natural angle.
"You need to stop fighting me, and fighting those ropes, or you're just gonna keep hurting yourself," he says, voice calm.
"I didn't fucking agree to this!" you snap, your changing feelings giving you whiplash. "You've tied me up against my will, Yunho, or did you somehow forget? This isn't some cute little scene I agreed to, you forced this on me!" you yell, trying hard to be forceful without hurting your throat again.
"And it's going to be good for you in the long run, if you'd just relax and stop fighting me. Have you considered that maybe I know what's best?" He quirks a brow, eyeing you now from only two feet away, that heat still radiating off of him. Noticing it again you begin to shiver, your body shaking involuntarily. Your muscles feel tight and painful from the restriction, and the cold isn't helping one bit.
"How the fuck is tying me up against my will good for me?" you spit, leaning forward every so slightly now that you can.
"I know you don't want to lose that job," he says, eyeing you intensely, his gaze boring into you. "I know that job means everything to you. And I know that if I didn't intervene, you would have lost it. You were too scared to come talk to me. You were never going to admit to your part in our arguments, to your fault. You clearly have too much pride to admit any wrongdoing, almost ever."
It really is sick how right he is about everything, and you begin to wonder if he somehow can read minds.
"Listen, I will let you go later, you have my word. I'm not gonna kill you. But I'm pretty sure this is the only way I could ever get you to apologize to me, and without doing that, we would never be able to resolve this." His eyes still haven't left yours, and this close you can see the details of his iris, the stubble on his cheeks and chin, and the small birth mark on the side of his jaw. It makes you sick, he makes you sick, every little perfect thing about him.
"Look, I'll start. I'm sorry for hiding your mug, I'm sorry for leaving you little notes, which were really just jokes but I know you took them offensively, I'm sorry for being hard on you in the admin meetings. I'm sorry for pissing you off and finding it funny. None of that was cool."
"That wasn't a very good apology," you retort, rolling your eyes.
"Still better than no apology at all," he replies, and you can't help but roll them again. "Did you hear what I said earlier, when you were screaming?" he asks, and you shake your head. "I was saying, I think you were so caught up in your head and convinced that I was out to get you, that you didn't realize in all those little notes I was trying to let you know that I like you."
"You have a funny way of showing it," you say, huffing in anger.
"Was it not obvious?" he asks.
"Was what not obvious?"
"That I like you."
"You insulted me in every single one!"
"I called you pretty in every single one."
"Yeah, in an insulting, 'you're pretty and stupid and don't know shit' kind of way."
"I never meant it like that. That was your interpr-"
"Sure." You roll your eyes hard again, sighing in exasperation.
"Don't interrupt me," he retorts, eyes hard.
"I'll do what I fucking want," you reply, exhausted by the conversation now, losing control of yourself.
"I think you're forgetting how vulnerable you are right now," he responds, scooting forward enough so that he can reach behind you and tug on the ropes, both checking that they're still secured and reminding you just how trapped you are.
I don't care anymore, you think, dropping your head, and it almost feels like your body has given in now. It's not that the fight is gone, but something about the change in position has your body relaxed, now that no part of you is actively getting hurt by your sitting position.
"What was that?" Yunho asks, his voice soft.
"Huh?" you snap your head up, eye him with confusion.
"Did you just say you don't care anymore?" Your eyes go slightly wide, realizing you'd said that aloud and not just in your head to yourself. You nod in response, eyes stuck on him, on the black hair that's fallen in his face, on the way his hand frantically pushes it away. "What do you mean?"
"I don't care, hurt me, do whatever, I don't care," you say, body relaxing in defeat.
"No, no we're not doing that," he says, and you squint at him in frustration. "You always just give up when things are hard, or when you think you'll fail. It's fucking pathetic."
Tears are back in your eyes, and you look at the floor in front of you, the small expanse of wood separating the two of you.
"I know, I FUCKING KNOW I'M PATHETIC, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!" you scream, frustration boiling up again.
"Yes, it is," he says with a satisfied smile.
"You want me to just tear myself down in front of you, is that it??"
"Finally you're understanding," he sighs, looking you over with what almost could be pride.
"Fuck you," you mutter, trying to bring yourself down from yet another surge in adrenaline.
"Fucking apologize. Tell me what you did wrong. I'm tired of waiting," he snaps, and the words feel like they lance through you. It makes you notice your body again, notice the way you're shaking hard from the cold.
"I'm fucking freezing Yunho," you say, tone begging him to take mercy on you.
"I know, I can see you shivering. Apologize to me and I'll get you a blanket," he spits.
"No," you whine, your body pleading with you, desperately wanting relief from the cold.
"Your nipples are so hard I can see them through your shirt." He's smirking, staring unabashedly at your chest, and it makes you scream again, writhing around with that unbridled anger, making your body hurt again.
"Y/n, y/n, fucking hell," Yunho lurches forward to grab onto you, physically forcing you to stop moving, stop hurting yourself even more. His arms are wrapped around you, your head pulled into his chest, and you can smell him now, the faint musk coming from under his arms, the slight sour edge making your head feel funny.
"You lied to boss," you rasp out, voice muffled against his chest.
"What?" he asks, settling down to now hold you in place.
"You said you weren't attracted to me. In the meeting." He just grunts in response, so ambiguously that you can't tell if he's agreeing or not. "Is that not what you meant by, 'I like you'?
"It is," he replies, sighing.
"Then why did you lie?" you ask, surprised he would do that in front of your boss, even given the nature of the question.
"Cause you did first," he responds, matter of factly.
"I didn't lie," you mutter, holding your eyes closed, your head still feeling funny as you try to shake free whatever feelings are enveloping you.
"You either lied to him, or to yourself," he says, finally pulling back, seeming to trust that you won't flail around again. But the slightest muscle twitch of your arm has his grip back on you in seconds, and you just sit there staring up at him, his hands gripping your arms tight to keep you from pulling on the ropes. "Which was it?"
"Stop," you whisper, harshly, your spit spraying in his face. He wipes it away with the back of his hand, eyeing you harshly, something clicking into place behind his eyes.
"You're really gonna make me fucking do this, aren't you," he grumbles, almost like it's just to himself. He shakes his head, sighing sharply, and you eye him with worry. He looks half disappointed, but half amused, and once he picks his hand up and flicks your already-hard nipple, the look becomes pure amusement just from your reaction.
"Ahh," you involuntarily moan, mortified at the sounds that just left your lips.
"You're sensitive," he chuckles, pinching the other harshly, making your whole body jolt in reaction.
"Yunho, stop, please, please," you beg, the pathetic, pleading look in your eye making his whole body react.
"If you'd just do what I ask, you could avoid these things," he chuckles, roughly pinching both of them now. Your back arches, and you fight to keep your breathing steady and not make any more embarrassing noises. But the pain and pleasure he's causing you is making it hard, and small gasps and whines leave your throat. "I think some part of you wanted this, though," he chuckles.
When he pulls back he's eyeing your arms, and the look of resolve and certainty in his eyes has you panicking, your brain struggling to make sense of it in any way.
"Please Yunho, please no," you whine again.
"Doll, you've left me no choice," he responds, sighing deeply as if he's thinking hard, not bothering to look you in the eye. Suddenly he's down to the side of you, and you feel his hands working fast behind you, the ropes pushed and pulled in various directions, making the sore skin of your wrists ache with every change of pressure. You're out of words now, utterly confused and helpless, and you lack the ability to fight him anymore, your body succumbing to exhaustion and not wanting to be bruised any further.
Suddenly you feel one of your wrists is free, the muscles in your shoulder relieved at finally being able to move, your body shuttering as it tries to work out the knots that have formed. You're partially free now, you realize for a moment, but just as fast you feel a final tug that loosens your other wrist from the bedpost, and then Yunho is yanking your wrists around to tie them in front of you instead. In a flash he's lifted you up, setting you down on the side of his bed, on your side. You're facing him, where he's now sat on the floor, as he grabs your legs and bends them up towards your arms, beginning to secure all of your limbs together in multiple knots. You lay in an almost catatonic state, staring at the wall of his room, the closet door partially cracked. You can see some of the suits and a few other random jackets you don't think you've ever seen before. You're so zoned out on the wall, so out of your body and out of your mind, that you don't even notice your pants and panties being pulled down to your thighs. It isn't until you feel the skin to skin contact, Yunho's hand gripping your thigh where it meets your hips, that you notice.
"What the fuck!" you squeal, head snapping back to him again, and the look on his face is cocky and self-satisfied, like he's proud of the reaction he's just pulled out of you.
"Yunho, please, no no no, please," you start babbling, repeating the words over and over until they feel almost meaningless. You can tell exactly where his hands are headed, where this whole thing is headed, but you don't have the physical strength in you to fight anymore. Or, more accurately, fighting with your body seems like the worst thing you can do right now, something that will only hurt you more and probably rile him up, too. He can see the gears turning in your head, and he's pressing, waiting for you to break, because it didn't take him long today to realize that he has a better read on you than you've ever had on yourself. You continue to babble your displeasure as he moves his hand up higher, higher, just brushing past your core and making you wince, but he doesn't reply to your words with words of his own, because he knows now that there's no point. He moves his hand up to your ass slowly, a trail of your wetness following his fingers, and even he's shocked by how much was there between your legs. He's sure you have no idea, that you're totally oblivious to the way your body has reacted to his words, his actions, to being bound and unable to move.
He's sure that for months now you had no idea that so much of the frustration you felt while being around him was the frustration of being teased, your body wanting certain touches that he was never giving you. He was certain you weren't taking care of it enough yourself, because he saw your thighs clench all the time when you stared at him, and sometimes he could even swear he smelled the arousal pooling in your panties, your short skirts leaving too little of a barrier.
Now, finally he was touching you, and it didn't surprise him that that soft wet part between your legs had reacted so quickly. It also wasn't a shock that your brain still hadn't caught up, that you still didn't see what was so obvious to him. He knew it would take more than a gentle brush of your clit for you to finally realize it, so moving his hand back down towards your center, he quickly found your entrance, firmly brushing the pad of his middle finger up your slit until he rubbed right over your sensitive bud again.
"Fuck! Okay, fuck, stop it, I'll apologize," you cry, the soft pad of his finger sending sparks through you as soon as it made contact with your clit. The feeling made your body shake again, but suddenly a warmth was filling your lower gut and you couldn't be more shocked by the feeling, and by how inviting, even comforting, it felt. It was another moment where you were ricocheted back into your body, into the present moment, and the strange nature of everything that was happening was too much to make sense of. All you knew is you needed your confusion to stop, because now more than any other feeling it was your inner conflict that scared you, the fact that you had earlier wished for him to grab you, the fact that now your body seemed so content to just stay in these ropes forever, as long as your position was comfortable enough.
All you could think to do now was to give him what he wanted, and what that was exactly you couldn't remember, other than that he wanted you to say something.
"I'm-I'm sorry, okay, I'm really sorry, I don't know how everything got as fucked up as- as it got, oh god, I'm sorry- I- I promise you I mean it," you babble, eyes closed as you try to control your breathing enough to speak.
"What are you sorry for?" he asks you, his face close enough that you feel his hot breath, his voice gentle but steady.
"I'm- I- I don't know, I- I-" You're distracted by his hand, but the way it's steadily making small circles over your clit and sending more of that heat into you, your mind less and less able to focus on your attempt at an apology.
"You don't know?" he asks, and it's patronizing, you both know it, but it doesn't even hurt you now. You just nod, sniffling as you whisper 'I'm sorry,' your eyes getting wet and heavy with how overwhelmed you feel. "You can't think straight now, can you?" he asks you, his finger working you steadily, his nose picking up on that scent he's become so familiar with. You shake your head, your breathing picking up gently from the pleasure enveloping you like a warm blanket. "Good, you think too much anyway," he chuckles, watching your face intently, his pride surging at the way he's picking you apart so perfectly.
"I think I know why you're sorry," he says, making you whine in response, nervous for what he's about to say. "I'm gonna guess, I think I'm right," he smiles, but you don't even see it with your eyes glued shut. He's happy though, seeing you like that, because he knows that finally you're in your body completely, and you're accepting what he's known you need. "You're sorry cause you know you fucked up, don't you? You know you took things too personally, you overreacted, you couldn't let my jokes or my pranks just be that, you had to make it more. And once you reacted that way once, you felt entitled to react that way every time, didn't you? You're sorry that you didn't stop that snowball in its tracks, before it became this huge thing, right?"
You groan in response to him, pissed as can be, but you can't tell him he's wrong because you're physically incapable now of lying. Something in the way he's making you feel, the way he's touching you, has melted a layer of your mental shield away, and you see now every word he's said is reflected inside you. The thoughts had been there for months, but you'd managed to avoid them almost completely, the occasional blip causing guilt and worry to cloud you for a day or two. But this was the first time you saw it truly for all that it was, how deep the guilt cut into you, how you spoke about him so nastily to other people because you really wanted to say those things to yourself.
"You'd never be able to forgive yourself if you admitted those things, huh?" he continues, making your breath hitch. "You don't want to admit them because you're scared you'll never feel the same about yourself ever again, right? Cause you're this perfect little angel, and you've been that for so many years, the perfect baby of the office, the perfect student in school, I'm sure, and admitting to yourself that you can be cruel, that would ruin the entire image you've created for yourself, wouldn't it?" Tears are streaming down your face now as you involuntarily nod, your whole body somehow enveloped in the warmth his touch is providing, despite how cold it is. Now that you're in your body, really truly in your body, you can notice the little things about your environment; you even notice the wind howling outside, not the loudest you could imagine, but enough that you know the storm is still blustering on. You try to blink open your eyes to look at him, but everything is blurred with your tears, and you vigorously shake your head back and forth, trying in vain to clear your vision. As if he can read your mind, Yunho's free hand comes up to wipe them away, and for some reason now it doesn't feel so bad, his hand touching your face gently, even if it still feels so new and strange. Once he's wiped away the tears you can get a good look at him, your faces only a few inches apart now.
"Am I right?" he asks, genuine, you know it's genuine, and you can't fucking believe it looking at him. He feels like one massive contradiction right now, and all you can do is whisper 'yeah' in response. Your answer clearly pleases him, and you suddenly feel his hand's movement slow, falter, and then he's moving his fingers down towards your entrance, pressing into you gently, only one finger at first.
"Yunho," you groan while shutting your eyes again, the feel of it so foreign, because if you were honest with yourself you hadn't had someone touch you in this way in years, and you weren't really one to put things inside of yourself if it was just you taking care of your needs.
"I know you need this," he responds, gently starting to pump in and out, the muscles of your cunt getting used to the feelings of pressure and release that they'd missed for so long.
"You have to forgive yourself," he starts up again, as he gradually starts upping his pace, working slowly and methodically. "You have to let yourself go of being that perfect angel. It's not realistic. You're a human, you're going to fuck up sometimes. And sometimes you have such a big crush on your handsome coworker that, well, you start acting out. And even you don't realize what you're doing, cause you're so caught up in your own head." You groan and roll your eyes when he calls himself handsome, and you still don't think you fully believe the rest of what he's said, but the first part, the part about forgiving yourself and freeing yourself of that perfect image, is calling to a part of you. "You're very sensitive, and I know you don't want to be, but you are. You can't ignore that, or it's gonna catch up with you time and time again."
He adds another finger, curling them up inside you in a perfect way, and you almost stop listening to what he's saying because at this point the pleasure is taking over your senses completely. He adds his thumb to your clit now, the feelings increasing exponentially, your clit feeling hot and fiery under his touch. It all still feels so foreign, so new, and something within you, particularly within the place he's touching you, still feels the need to hold back, to worry, to be tense. He can feel it too, and he guessed himself that you hadn't been touched in a while, from everything he'd observed about you. He figured you were someone who might have written off relationships and sex entirely, someone too focused on what their duty to the world was, to maintaining the image of good morals, that you weren't partaking in those things people consider selfish, or self-indulgent. He even wondered for a bit if you'd never been touched, but that seemed unlikely from some of the random comments he'd overheard in your conversations with Tally.
"You know, you can't come if you're so tense down there," he says, and again it's kind of patronizing, but you don't really care. "You have to let go."
"I- I've never come from, inside, st- stimulation," you stutter, looking at him directly, hoping to convey that despite your state you're being completely sincere.
"Really?"
"I- I can't," you say, shaking your head, thinking of all of your sexual exploits, the list of which can fit on one hand.
"I'm gonna try," he chuckles, his focus zeroing in on your body's reactions to his movements. "I really do need you to relax those muscles for me, relax your hips too. They're too tense, do you even feel that?" he asks, tapping the side of your thigh where the muscle is taught. You shake your head, frowning and burying your face into the duvet cover you're laying on. "No, don't shy away from me. Don't go back into your head. I know that's why you haven't come in the past, cause you were too in your head. You can't do that. Come on, just focus on my touch, think about how it feels, nothing else."
You try with all you have to follow his instructions, keeping your eyes on his face as you watch him furrow his brow in concentration, the muscles in his jaw flexing for a moment when he changes the angle of his hand ever so slightly. The new spot he was hitting inside felt so perfect, so shockingly deep, and finally your body started to cave into the feelings, your breathy moans coming out as you lost yourself in it, not thinking anymore about where you were or why you were there.
"You know you're not perfect, deep down you know that, and you need to accept that. You're not a robot, you're like all the rest of us, fucked up in so many ways, wanting selfishly for life to always go your way, wanting everyone to like you, praise you, cherish you. And that's okay, it doesn't make you some horrible person. You're neurotic, sensitive, intense, so what? You'll never not be those things, and that's okay. Just fucking let yourself be a human, so you don't get so fucking hung up on every little thing wrong with me." He punctuates the last word, reminding you why you're here. His hand is working you perfectly, and mixed with all that he's saying it's all encompassing, the overwhelming intensity you're feeling. Suddenly you feel something building deep within you, a coil about to snap, and you feel your legs begin to shake before it's even washing over you. The most intense orgasm of your life erupts within you, snaking out from your core down to your feet and back up again, surging to your head and making everything go gray and fuzzy, your mind blinded with a pleasure you've never known. You hear distant, warbled words coming from Yunho's mouth still, but you can't make them out as your orgasm builds in waves, lasting longer than you expect and completely knocking the wind from your lungs. As you come down you’re breathing ragged, so ragged, and you don't even realize that you've clamped down so hard on Yunho's hand that he can't move it anymore. You stare up at him, pupils blown and your face flushed, and in a moment he leans down to place a soft peck on your cheek, taking you by surprise.
"Why are you kissing me?" you ask, eyeing him with confusion and contempt, the action seeming absurd in the current circumstances.
"I'm proud of you. You finally gave into me, you're finally doing what I wanted you to," he replies. It's fucked, you know the sentiment is creepy and strange and so genuinely absurd, but you can't help feeling flattered by it. A small smile sneaks onto your lips, and Yunho sees how you're feeling too. "God you're a sucker for praise," he laughs, slowly removing his hand now that you've relaxed enough. "All you want to hear is that you're good, you're perfect. Can't bear anything else, can you?" You shake your head, as he stands up from where he's been sitting, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, pulling his cock out swiftly, eyeing you up and down. Your face is one of shock, mostly at seeing the size of him; you're not sure where this is headed exactly, but you just hope he'll be gentle with you, whatever he does.
"What, you thought I wasn't going to do this?" he asks, starting to move onto the bed beside you.
"No, it's just..." you sigh, shaking your head, not even sure what to fucking say, still in the haze of your orgasm.
"Oh, you didn't think I'd be this big," he laughs.
"You're so fucking full of yourself," you mutter, rolling your eyes. "Just make it quick, please," you say, almost under your breath, regretting it the moment it's left your lips.
"I'll take as much time as I fucking want with you," he responds, lining himself up with your still soaking entrance, rubbing the head around to gather up some of your wetness. He's fucking into you sideways, his body over yours as you remain on your side, bound and unable to move at all. He enters you slowly, feeling the stretch himself, seeing your eyebrows furrow in what must be pain.
"How long has it been?" he asks, leaning over you as he finally bottoms out, staying put as he lets your body adjust to the size of him. You look confused, so he clarifies, "since you've been fucked?"
You groan, the majority of your brainpower taken up in dealing with the strange mix of pain and pleasure happening between your legs. You don't have it in you to fight with him now, and you don't really want to; you're almost enjoying it now, just letting him talk and belittle and say whatever he pleases.
Once he feels your body relax just that little bit he needs, he moves his hips back, gently pushing himself back in again, but quickly setting a pace that feels good for him. He's holding one arm around your back and anchoring that hand on the back of your neck; the other arm is bent at the elbow, supporting him and holding onto your bound legs and arms, anchoring him to you. The thrusts feel intense, sharp, and biting at first, but soon all you can feel is the way he's repeatedly hitting your cervix, his cock so deep inside you that you feel like you might explode. You can't help the pathetic mewls you're making, eyes closed as you hear his steady grunts and heavy breathing so close to your ear.
"I know you've rejected tons of men, if it's been as long as I think," he says, and you feel his breath brushing across your cheek and neck, making you shiver. "Not just men, I should say. You're so fucking oblivious to everything. Do you even realize that Tally has a huge crush on you? I'm sure she'd love to fuck your brains out," he chuckles, making you groan in annoyance again, not believing him for a second. "I'm sorry, I know, forgive me. I can't help myself, I just love telling you all the things I know you don't realize." His pace hasn't let up, if anything it's increased, and his grip on you is tightening, his torso now flush with yours and his face only inches from your own. "Fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer, shit you're tight," he sighs, a groan rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. He knows his pace will leave you sore tomorrow, but it feels too good for him to stop, and it seems just the right thing to finally get your mind off all of the superfluous, stressful stuff you usually obsessively think about. It's not just that either; he can feel your body slowly coming undone again, and though it's built differently than the last time, the tell tale signs are there in the way your hips start moving against him, your breathing changing just like it did before. You come hard again, the feeling erupting from even higher inside your core this time, and it feels even more intense the second time around, your whole body shaking intensely this time.
"See, your body needed this," he whispers in your ear, his hard thrusts continuing through your aftershocks, soon becoming painful and hard to bear. Your face has turned sour as he chases his own climax, and even as bad as it feels, part of you is so content to just sit here and take it. The feeling of having no other option, of being held here and used for another's pleasure, it makes some of your internal confusion go away. You liked this part at least; maybe everything that came before was not to your liking, but this part definitely was.
He finishes with a final hard thrust, groaning out a 'fuck', before pressing his hips flush with yours and keeping them there. You feel his warm cum filling you, his warm body wrapping around you, and finally you do truly feel warm, from the inside out. This was a feeling you could get used to, your head fuzzy and soft and lacking the usual worries you have, your body relaxed, spent, and warm.
It isn't long that you're in that position, Yunho pulling out of you quickly, walking over to his bathroom to grab a towel and start wiping you and his comforter clean of the mess he'd made. The absence of him left you feeling cold again, your body stiffening up faster than you thought it would, and your shivers returning as soon as he took the damp towel to your most sensitive area. Eyes closed you're still holding onto the remnants of that blissful feeling, especially the way your brain feels so wonderfully empty. You're surprised when you feel Yunho messing with your ropes, assuming he'd just leave you there for a little while, or maybe for a long while, it was hard to say. But quickly he's undone the entirety of the knots, and he tosses the rope onto the floor, manually moving your limbs to help your body stretch out and begin returning blood flow to the places that lost it.
It hurts when he does this, though it feels good too, but you whine and complain the whole time, even as he assures you it's best and it's needed. He then slowly takes off your clothes entirely, leaving you naked and exposed, and the cold is almost overbearing now, making your body ache all the way into your bones.
"It's fucking cold, you asshole," you groan, tucking yourself back up into that fetal position you were just in for so long, despite the fact that the ropes are gone now.
"Just give me a minute, I know," he sighs, somewhere behind you, over in the direction of his bathroom. You hear what must be the bathtub faucet turn on, the strong current of water sounding clearly through the quiet house. Then he's coming over to you, wrapping you up in his arms and carrying you that way, setting you gently into his huge tub before it's even finished filling. The hot water feels like it's sizzling your skin upon first contact, but soon your body relaxes in the warmth, especially your back once the water reaches all the way up to your neck. His tub is nice; there are spots designed specifically to rest your arms on, the slope of the side a comfortable angle for relaxing down onto.
"Give me your arms," he says, and you look up at him begrudgingly, holding your arms out of the water like it's the hardest thing in the world.
"Little brat," he mutters, taking the first into his hands and slowly applying some lotion to your rope burns, wrapping it loosely in a thin bandage. He does the same to the other, setting them both on the sides of the tub, out of the water. "Keep them there, I'm going to get some ice. We need to ice those burns so they don't bruise too badly," he says, and you just stare through him, not nodding or saying anything. He doesn't need that kind of confirmation though, he knows you'll follow his commands. He returns a few minutes later, two ice packs and more bandages in hand, and somehow balanced between it all, your phone.
"It looks like you have some missed calls," he says, showing you your phone screen. You see three missed calls from Yunji, and a slew of texts, and your heart jumps back up in speed momentarily, even in your relaxed and numb state.
"I gotta call her now," you say, your words rushed, reaching out your bandaged wrist to grab at your phone. Yunho holds it just out of reach though, and then sets it down on the counter by the sink, turning back to you with a knowing look.
"I need to ice your wrists first. Then we'll call her," he says.
"Yunho, seriously, she's gonna call the fucking police, I know her," you respond, eyeing him sharply with disapproval.
"And you, seriously, need to wait a moment," he snaps, and you really don't like this control now, because it's affecting someone else, not just you.
"I fucking hate you," you mutter, pushing yourself up despite your weak and painful muscles, moving yourself out of his bathtub without a care in the world for all of the water you're spilling everywhere.
"Okay, okay, fine," he concedes, holding onto your shoulders while your one foot is still in the tub, not letting you move any further. "I'm putting it on speaker on the side of the tub, so that I can ice your wrists." Your faces are inches apart, the look in his eye is intense, almost like he's compelling you to agree with him.
"Fine," you sigh, sitting yourself back down, your body basking in being back in the water. Then, as he said, he's set your phone on the side of the tub, somehow guessing your passcode and opening it with ease, calling Yunji immediately. As the call begins to ring he sets to work on your wrists again, gently wrapping the ice packs around the smaller bandages already on your sensitive skin.
"Girl, oh my god, where are you??" Yunji answers, her panic obvious.
"I'm- I'm at Yunho's, I'm fine though, I swear-" you start, knowing she'll be horrified by just his name alone.
"Oh my god what???" she cuts you off, gasping. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"Yes I'm okay, Yun, I promise. I just- I ran into him on my way back from the store, and well, I got sort of, tied up, talking with him, and then the storm came so- so now I'm stuck here." Yunho's face breaks into a smirk, knowing just how literal two of the words you just said are.
"Oh god, you poor thing, are you sure you're okay? That man is insane," she sighs. Yunho eyes you, a playful look on his face, almost like he's trying to avoid laughing.
"Seriously, I'm okay, I promise. It was actually really good, I guess, talking about things. We were more, uh, honest I guess? I- I don't know, there's a lot to process. It was weird. But I'm okay, I- I swear," you sigh, wishing you weren't stuttering so much over your words.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks again.
"I know I sound like a mess, I'm sorry. The storm is kind of freaking me out," you reply.
"It's okay hun, don't apologize. I can't believe you're stuck there with him. God, I don't think you'll be able to come home tonight. Is there somewhere you can sleep there?" Yunho nods at her question, eyeing you as he does.
"Uh, yeah, he has a guest room here. He said I could stay in there. At least it's separate, my own space," you answer her.
"God, I'm so sorry you're there. I shouldn't have let you go to the store, I should have stopped you..." she trials off, and you can bet her hand is slapped over her face in frustration.
"No, don't apologize Yun, I think it was good that this happened. I mean, I don't know, at least something has changed between me and him. And you had no idea that the storm would return so quickly like it did. It was my own stupidity, if anything, I just-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head side to side against the hard porcelain of the tub. "Thank you for checking up on me, I'm sorry I missed your calls. I was just talking with him, I got distracted. I hate that I worried you so much." It feels a little weird lying to her, but above all you want her to know you appreciate how much she looks out for you.
"It's okay, I'm just glad you're safe and okay. And hopefully tomorrow it'll clear up enough that you can come back here where you belong."
Her last word brings tears to your eyes, thinking of your perfect little apartment and just how much of a home you two have made of it.
"I love you so much," you sigh, looking over at your phone, wishing you were seeing her face instead.
"I love you too, I wish you were here," she replies.
"I know, me too," you say.
"We can keep talking if you want."
"I- I should probably go, I'm starving so I guess I need to go ask Yunho about dinner. But I'll call later, if that's okay? I'm sure I'll be bored as shit," you chuckle, and she does too, the tension finally breaking.
"Sounds good, call me whenever. I hope he has something decent for you to eat. I doubt he can cook or anything, if he's such a spoiled rich boy." You both laugh in sync, Yunho rolling his eyes as he places the final bandage on your second wrist, securing the ice packs in place.
"Okay, talk to you soon," you say, smirking up at him.
"Bye bye," she replies, hanging up the call.
"You two are so mean," he sighs, shaking his head and walking out of the room, and you relax into the silence of the room, your wrists starting to feel the cold of the ice packs, the relief palpable. Your body is wrecked, you can feel it intensely, but the warm bath relaxing your muscles and ice on your wrists is making it bearable, your body already on the path towards healing. Yunho returns about ten minutes later, when you've almost nodded off, and takes a small washcloth into the warm water, using it to wipe the snot and tears that have stained your cheeks. Then he's feeding you a warm cup of tea, holding it as your arms lay unusable at your sides; he does the same with the small bowl of stew he's heated for you, the tastes rich and fresh in a way that make it obvious it's homemade. The attentiveness doesn't feel overly sweet, but the calm that's settled in the air between you isn't something you've experienced with him at all, the entire time you've known one another. You're both silent, comfortable, and the warm stew is just so delicious, the meat tender and soft and perfectly seasoned. Your senses are overwhelmed in solace, your breaths deep and stable. Your nerves have returned to you, so you're no longer numb. But instead of the high strung alertness that usually accompanies you, your body is present but calm.
When you finally finish the stew and tea, thirty minutes have passed in total silence, Yunho taking his time with feeding you, letting your body relax in the hot water. He places the empty bowl and mug on the counter, moving back to start unwrapping the ice packs, and then beckoning you to stand, bringing a huge fluffy towel to wrap around your shoulders. The towel dwarfs you, keeping the cold away, and you gently step out of the tub, following Yunho wherever he leads you.
"Can you walk?" he asks, and you nod your head, following him over towards the counter. He pulls out a brush from one of the drawers, gently taking it to the knots that had formed in your hair, the ends damp from the tub. After he finishes he leads you out of his room, down the hall two doors down, and you enter to another room with a large bed, a TV on the opposite wall, the whole room immaculately decorated. He leads you to the bed, placing your phone on the bedside table and grabbing a charger out of the drawer. He also grabs the remote inside, placing it next to your phone, and a bottle of water, holding it out to you.
"I'll be in my room, if you need anything else," he says, standing up to make his way out.
"I'm sorry I kept ignoring your texts, and calls," you say, your voice quiet, the words escaping you without much thought.
He just eyes you for a minute, turning to face you, his face unreadably neutral. "I'm not," he finally says, smiling, that cocky grin back on his perfect face. You roll your eyes at him, settling into the bed, pulling the comforter up and over you.
He makes to leave the room again, but stops himself at the door, turning back to face you one final time
"We're going back to the office Monday, right?" he asks.
You don't respond, you don't say a word. But he doesn't need you to. He knows the answer, just like he knows you, with a certainty maybe he shouldn't have.
taglist: @lalalasexyguyshehehehe @hoe4rkpop @rienzz @bloomyroses
thank you sm for reading my loves <3333
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Rising From Embers
ONESHOT
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When an argument with Carol leaves you feeling betrayed and jealous, Daryl’s anger and frustration reach the point of no return.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / LANGUAGE / VIOLENCE / CONSENSUAL NON-CONSENT / ANGST
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.185
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Non-Con Elements (it might be interpreted this way — even though the scene seems to be consensual)
MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES
You had been angry for days, full of jealousy that had only worsened with each passing moment when you saw Carol and Daryl together. The way they laughed together, the way they hugged each other—every bit of it was like a stab to your already wounded pride.
But it had reached a boiling point tonight. You stormed into one of the houses in Alexandria and searched for Carol, wanting to confront her once and for all. When you finally found her, she was sitting on a bed, reading a book.
"Carol!" You yelled out harshly, full of anger and hurt.
She looked up from her book with a small smile on her lips, not even bothered by what was happening, nor was she interested. "What is it? Is something wrong? What happened?"
"You know exactly what the fuck it is," you snapped back at her, your frustration boiling over. "I know why you’ve been avoiding me for weeks! And every time I see you, you’re all over Daryl, like he’s the only fucking person in this world who even matters to you anymore!"
Carol’s eyes narrowed, but she remained nonchalant and quiet. "What are you talking about? Sure, we are a family, but we have our own lives. Daryl has been busy with his own stuff and things, just like I’ve been with mine."
"Busy?" You scoffed. "Like spending time with you only while I’m suddenly a piece of shit in your eyes?! Oh, yeah, I wonder why!?"
Carol’s smile didn’t go away, but she looked down on the floor for a moment. "Is this really about me? Or, rather, about you and Daryl? Because if you have a problem with him and your relationship, you should talk to him directly, not me."
"Oh, I will," you answered. "But I need you to understand, okay?"
Carol looked up at you again, seemingly confused. "And I’m supposed to care because?"
"Because we’re supposed to be a family!" you shouted angrily at her. "Or does that only apply when it’s comfortable for you?"
Carol shrugged. "Life’s hard, I guess. We all deal with it in our own ways."
"Dealing with it by throwing away your friends so that you could have Daryl by your side only?" You snapped back at her.
Carol stood up, her patience finally fading away slowly. "This isn’t just about me and Daryl or you wanting to spend time with me like before when we were still out there. It’s about you trying to make everything revolve around you and your relationship with him because you think you might lose him. And you know what? I’m done with this conversation."
Before you could respond, she grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. "Like, do you even trust Daryl? But what do I care? So, whatever, go ahead with your self-pity."
The slam of the door behind her left you standing there with anger and jealousy, and in your rage, you didn’t even notice the knock on the door until it got louder.
Opening the door with a scowl, you were met with the sight of Daryl; his eyes narrowed. "Was lookin’ for Carol. Asked me to come over. She around here?"
"She just left," you answered back harshly. "But you can come in and wait for her to return if you want. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about!"
Daryl hesitated but stepped inside the house. "What’s wrong? Ya' look angry."
You tried to swallow down the lump in your throat. "I’m fine. I'm just tired of being ignored."
Daryl’s eyes searched yours, and he seemed to sense your hurt. "Wanna talk 'bout it?"
"It’s Carol... and you," you scoffed at him. "You... You've been so distant lately, and it’s like you’re all Carol cares about."
Daryl’s eyes narrowed again. "Nah. She has her own life here. We all do."
"Yeah, I get that," you snapped again. "But... forget it! I’m so sick of this bullshit!"
Daryl looked at you for a long moment. "So what?"
Your anger flared up again, and you slammed your fist down on the coffee table in the middle of the living room as you sat down on the couch. "It’s not just about her or you being busy, Daryl! It’s about how you've been treating me like I don’t even matter shit to you anymore!"
Daryl’s face seemed somewhat frustrated by your words, but he stood his ground, not wanting to let it get to him too soon. Deep inside, your words did hurt him. "If ya' got a problem with me or with us, then just say it."
"Maybe if you had actually spent time with me for once instead of Carol, it wouldn’t be this way, but clearly you couldn't give less of a fuck," you answered bitterly.
Daryl took a deep breath, trying to manage his own temper, and he grabbed your arm roughly. "Ya' know what? That's bullshit! Ya' wanna yell at someone? Fine, but don’t expect me to just sit here and take it."
His hand tightened on your arm. “Ain't together with ya' to argue with ya'. I’m together with ya' because I care.”
His words only fueled the anger in you, and you struggled against his strong grip. "Care? Really? Because it feels like you’re only interested in Carol! Like always!"
"Fine. Ya' wanna let all the damn anger out, huh?" Daryl started, but before you could react, Daryl pulled you into a harsh, rough kiss. His lips crashed against yours, and his hands were all over your body, as if he were trying to make you feel every bit of emotion through the force of his touch.
Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as you kissed him back immediately, while his hands moved to your waist as he pushed you backward and toward the bedroom without you even noticing at first.
"Daryl," you gasped out, your heart now racing.
But he didn’t respond to you with words, only with actions. His hands were rough, his touch harsh, as he tore at your clothes and tried to get them off. "Ya' wanted to fight?" he growled at you. "Then let’s fuckin' fight."
You could barely even process his words as you desperately tried to regain some control of the sudden situation, wanting to pull away from him quickly.
"But not like this, you fucking idiot! Let go of me, Daryl!" You shouted at him and tried to push him away.
Daryl’s grip only tightened, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you. "Not until ya' let it all out."
"No! I won’t let you just fuck me like this, thinking it might calm me down!" You struggled against him, but deep inside? Deep inside, you were secretly wanting more.
"Then make me stop," he said back, and he simply smirked at you. His hands were rough as they gripped your wrists, now pinning them above your head.
"Daryl, that's bullshit! Just stop," you cried out, your voice turning into a moan.
But Daryl was too far gone already. He kissed you roughly again, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth all the while ripping your clothes finally away from your body until he pushed you back onto the bed. "Ya' think ya' can tell me what to do?" he snarled. "Ya' think ya' can just push me and get away with it?"
You tried to fight back, but his strength was too much. He forced you under himself, his body pressing down on yours.
"Daryl, no—" you tried to protest, but he silenced you with another rough kiss, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them apart.
"Ya' wanted to fight," he growled, his fingers sliding along your pussy. "And ya' think you can just win a damn fight with me?"
You tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong, his hard cock pressing into your belly and leaking precum all over it.
"Please, Daryl," you begged, your voice shaking. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..."
But he cut you off with a deep, passionate bite on your neck, and his tongue quickly delved into your mouth right after, silencing your protests. But all of a sudden, he grabbed your thighs and lifted them up a little bit, wrapping your legs around his waist. You could feel his cock pressing against your pussy, and you knew that there was no turning back.
Daryl thrust into you hard and deep, making you cry out in agony and pure lust. He fucked you roughly into the bed, your bodies slamming together with each thrust.
"Fuck, ya' feel so fuckin' good," he groaned, his lips finding your neck. He bit and sucked greedily at your skin, leaving marks all over your body. All the while, he fucked you faster but slower.
"Harder," you begged him, your nails digging into his back and scratching all over his scars, as if you were wanting to leave new ones that would hide the ones of his past. Scars of something that would be worth remembering. "Fuck me harder, Daryl!"
He obliged, his thrusts becoming more frantic and desperate. You could feel the orgasm building inside of you, your pussy clenching around his cock.
"Yes, yes, yes!" You cried out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. "Daryl, fuck!" You cried out, gasping and shivering.
His fingers dug into your skin. "Ya' think ya' can just throw that damn jealousy in my face?"
You struggled beneath him, trying to resist his hold at least a little bit, but it was no use against the strength of his body. "No! This isn’t—"
"No more games," he snarled.
You gasped and moaned beneath him, the feeling of him hitting you just right making you scream. He increased the force of his thrusts, soon enough driving you to the edge.
"I want more," you cried out, your voice barely above a whisper.
"That so?" he growled. "Ya' want more, huh?"
Without waiting for a response, he pulled his cock out of you, his fingers gripping your hair and forcing you onto your trembling feet, sensing that you might fall down onto your knees. You stumbled slightly, disoriented by the sudden change out of nowhere, but Daryl didn't care and pulled you towards a full-length mirror in the room.
"Look at ya'," he demanded, shoving you in front of the mirror. "Look at us."
You stood there, your body trembling, your eyes meeting your own reflection as his fingers dug into your shoulders. “Ya' see that?” he asked, watching you nod slowly.
With a sudden, forceful push, he pushed you against him, spreading your legs for him in front of the mirror. "Ya' gonna watch," he said harshly, "ya' gonna see what I'm doing to ya'."
He pushed you a little further towards the mirror, his grip tight on your hips as he roughly pushed his cock into you from behind.
"Ya' like this, don't ya'?" he growled. "Ya' like it rough and hard."
Something inside your mind tried to protest and push him away, but he was just too determined. And as much as you tried to deny it, there was a part of you that was enjoying it. The way he was fucking you and claiming you, it was like nothing you had ever experienced before.
"Yes," you finally gasped, giving in to the feelings. "Yes, fuck! Yes, I love it! Don't stop!"
He fucked you harder, and you could see your reflections in the mirror, his muscular body pinning you slightly against the glass as he took you from behind. It felt so dirty, somehow even wrong, and yet you couldn't get enough.
"Look at ya' in the mirror," he commanded. "Look at how ya' getting fucked. Look at us."
In the reflection, you could see the lust in his eyes, the way his muscles tensed with each thrust, and the way he held your body close to his. "Tell me ya' want it. Tell me ya' need it," he said, his hands gripping your hair to expose your neck.
You moaned, your body trembling around him. "I want it," you let out in a shaky whisper.
"Louder!" He demanded.
"I need this! Please!" You cried out, your voice now desperate.
Daryl let out a growl at your words, his fingers leaving bruises on your body as he fucked you even deeper. When you finally reached your orgasm, his body pressed tightly against yours, his hands finding your tits and playing with your nipples as you came hard. But before you could even catch your breath, Daryl pulled out of you with a final, forceful thrust, your body collapsing against his as you desperately gasped for air.
He quickly threw you back onto the bed and positioned himself over you, with his head buried between your thighs, his face just inches away from your soaking wet pussy, and his leaking cock only inches away from yours.
"Let’s see how much more ya' can take," he said, and he was soon enough grinding his hips against your face, the tip of his hard cock pressing against your lips.
"Mhm," you moaned out, running your tongue over the tip and licking off the precum. "Fuck, I want to taste you."
As you heard him groan, you knew that you were driving Daryl as crazy as he was driving you. But instead of taking his cock into your mouth right away, you were wrapping your hand around it.
"Oh, fuck," Daryl groaned, throwing his head back, just as he was about to suck on your clit. "Oh, fuckin' hell, that feels so damn good."
You smiled, pumping your hand up and down his shaft. "Yeah? You like that?"
"Yeah, I fuckin' love it," Daryl said, his voice trembling a bit, and you decided to use your other hand as well, placing it on his balls to massage them as you continued to stroke his cock.
Daryl was panting and moaning, his hips bucking wildly, and soon enough he lowered his head, his mouth sucking on your clit as he began to kiss and lick your pussy to eat you out. He made no attempt to be gentle; instead, he devoured your body with pure hunger, his lips and tongue exploring and tasting every part of it.
You moaned loudly as he continued to tease you before his hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place while his tongue licked along your pussy folds, tasting you even more before he began to push his tongue in and out over and over again for what felt like an eternity.
Soon, he shifted his position a little bit, his mouth focusing on your sensitive clit again, his tongue flicking over it and circling it, now more gentle but still with lust.
He grunted and groaned against your pussy while you were still playing with the tip of his leaking cock, the vibrations against your clit making you arch your back as you finally took him as deep as you could into your mouth, with your tongue moving along the underside of his shaft, wanting to feel every little twitch of it around your lips.
Daryl’s hands gripped your thighs harder, his fingers now digging into your flesh, which was sure to leave bruises over the next few days as he still held you in place. "Fuck," he mumbled against you. "Suck me off... Just like that, don't fuckin' stop. Suck my cock."
His words only turned you on even more as you took him deeper into your mouth, wanting to feel his cock pulse against your throat, his body trembling while he struggled to hold back.
"Fuck, yes," Daryl groaned, his hips thrusting against your face.
You were both moaning and groaning, and you could feel yourself getting close to coming all over again, and you knew that Daryl was close, too.
"I'm so fucking close! I'm gonna come," you gasped, your pussy clenching around his tongue.
"Same," Daryl grunted against you, his cock twitching in your mouth, and finally, with a loud and low groan, Daryl came hard, his thick load of cum shooting into your mouth and down your throat while you greedily swallowed every drop of it and wanted to suck him dry.
After a while, he pulled himself up from you, but soon enough, he pinned you down under him again. "Ya' wanted a fight," he said quietly, looking at you with a smirk. "Well, ya' got one now. And if there’s a next time you’re jealous, over bullshit," he murmured in a whisper, "just remember that I’ll claim what’s mine."
But before either of you could really catch your breath, the door creaked open, and Carol stepped into the room. Her eyes widened slightly, but instead of a shocked gasp, she let out a laugh.
“What the hell!” you yelled out loud, quickly pulling a blanket over the both of you.
Daryl froze beside you as well, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Carol. "What ya' doin’ here? Thought ya' were out."
Carol showed off a knowing smile but ultimately turned away so you and Daryl could feel a bit more comfortable. "Just checking in. It seems like my plan worked better than I thought it would."
You blinked in confusion, your heart still racing. "Excuse me? Plan? What plan? What the hell are you talking about, Carol?"
She leaned against the wall next to the door, her arms crossed over her chest. "Well, you two needed to sort things out. The jealousy and all that—it was only a matter of time before it blew up into something. I just gave it a little bit of a push."
Daryl’s jaw clenched slightly as he looked over his shoulder. "Ya' set this up? That's why ya' asked me to meet ya' here?"
Carol shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, and now maybe you two can finally be honest with each other and more open about your relationship instead of trying to keep it hidden away from everyone else."
You felt anger, relief, and gratitude—all of these emotions suddenly flooding your mind and heart. "You... Wait, you manipulated us?"
"Call it what you want," she answered, seemingly unapologetic about it. "But look at where it got you both now. So, yeah, sometimes, a little push is all it takes and needs."
Daryl glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. "Guess we owe her, huh?"
You managed to laugh, still processing the situation and what was actually happening. "Yeah, I guess so."
"I’ll leave you two to... talk things out, you know? Maybe next time, don’t let jealousy get in the way of what you really feel." With that, Carol turned around and left, closing the door behind her.
Daryl sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Shit, that was weird as fuck."
You nodded, but you felt the awkwardness slowly fading away. "Yeah. But maybe she’s right. We needed this. You and me both."
And without another word, Daryl's fingers traced the marks he'd left on your skin—each bruise, each bite, and each scratch.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfic#the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#twd daryl#norman reedus#twd fanfiction#the walking dead fanfic#the walking dead fanfiction#twd daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl dixon#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon oneshot#daryl dixon one shot#daryl dixon fic#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon and reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon twd#writers on tumblr#twd#writeblr#smut#twd fic#janie hellion
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Skincare with the strawhats
A/n: I'm somewhere on episode 500 in One Piece. And looking back at my valorant post... I really did Franky, Jimbei, Chopper, and Brook wrong. But uh... I'll try to do better :D!! Btw this excludes Chopper cuz...how?
⭑Luffy, I'd say wouldn't understand much about it. I mean, he probably knows and have heard a bit from Nami and Robin but that's that.
⭑When you first explained it to him, he was half-listening, so he was a bit shocked when you sprayed some water on his face.
⭑Would think of it as a fun game and splash some water onto you too (your clothes sadly got wet :[)
⭑When you start adding some cream onto his face he found it funny and started making weird faces.
⭑Over some time, he'd actually start liking it and would start expecting one every week (and maybe even every day)
⭑And even if you guys were to do skincare every day, he'd either fall asleep or cause some ruckus. No in-between.
"Hey, Y/n!! Can we do the skinmare thing again??"
"It's skincare, Luffy, and yes."
⭑Overall, 6/10. He's not the worst, but there is definitely better.
⭑It's either Nami who will bring it up or you.
⭑She's the best to do skincare with since she got everything. Like everything
⭑Would prolly make you pay when you use one of her stuff (w/h or w/o permission)
⭑Would actually give you a piece of advice on what or what not to do though.
⭑While doing skincare, Nami will tell you gossip about the crew or from the last island.
⭑If you get on her good side, she might give you one of her equipment.
⭑Would secretly charge you money for all the wrongdoings you did though. And an extra 10,000 berries because you asked her to do skin care.
"Alright Y/n. This session would be 96,000 berries."
⭑Overall, 9/10. Definitely one of the best. con= -1 because she charges after skincare. Pro= You guys will now have skincare every week.
"No."
⭑You have to convince Zoro numerous times (and maybe even guilt trip him) just so he'd say yes.
⭑He'd be embarrassed at first and try to stay quiet (he doesn't want the lovesick cook to see him with a headband on and foam on his face)
⭑He's blushing so hard from embarrassment so be nice to him. It's also a good opportunity to tease him.
⭑Although too much teasing would opt to make him leave. Unless you ask Sanji instead or tell the crew what was happening to Zoro, that would make him stay back and listen.
⭑While doing skincare, he'd let you take the lead (considering he doesn't even know anything about it) and would only let out some grumbles and whines.
⭑After skincare, he'd look himself in the mirror and touch his face, noticing how smooth it was.
⭑He'd then look after the skincare and would ask you about it for more. He won't say it again though, so you better have good ears because he'll be all muttering.
⭑Overall. 7/10, he's very quiet and wouldn't do much unless you say so.
⭑Sanji would beg for it every. single. day
⭑And you finally had enough and said yes.
⭑Now before entering the bathroom, you can already smell the rosy perfume outside.
⭑WOULD have everything and anything. Maybe even more than Nami's skincare collection.
⭑He'd know what type of face skin you have AND the type you use. So it was no surprise when your essentials were already out.
⭑He'd beg give you assistance 24/7 while doing skincare
⭑He'd also ask you if you're feeling uncomfortable, having fun, and would ramble on about some new recipes he's learned.
"I hope you had fun today Y/n. I'm looking forward to the next."
⭑Overall, 10/10. He knows what you need and what you like. He also think of your situation/feelings, and that itself makes it 10/10 already.
⭑Ussopp would fly over the moon when you asked him.
⭑He'd gladly accept it and tell you he had a lot of experience in skin care (which isn't technically a lie since he knew some of it from Kaya)
⭑But of course, he'd still be scared and shaking. What if you didn't like it? What if you don't wanna do skin care with him again?
⭑He'd be rather stiff at first. Scared to disappoint you.
⭑But minutes later he'd start to cool down and come back to his normal self.
⭑Now every time you both will have skincare time. He'd have a bunch of stories saved up only for you.
"Oh Y/n! I have another story for you later."
⭑Overall, 9/10. He's really fun to be with and is def one of the best to do skincare with.
⭑You'd have to ask Robin to join you
⭑She never really thought of doing skincare together unless you bring it up.
⭑And you really know when to pick out the dates since she was so stressed at first T~T)>
⭑Being around a chaotic and childish crew could really stack up stress.
⭑But a simple skincare could really help it get out.
⭑Robin really much appreciated what you did. Especially when you massage her face and shoulders.
⭑It isn't only one-sided. She'd help you out by giving some advice and ideas when she sees you frowning at your own face. Even giving out some compliments.
"This has really helped out my day, Y/n. Thank you very much."
⭑Overall, 9/10. Really nice to hang out with, and would crack a dark joke once in a while.
⭑Franky would definitely say yes and strike a pose.
⭑He'd know a lot of this from Mozu and Kiwi and would sometimes buy them the products that they wanted.
⭑And since he's basically the crew's shipwright, he had definitely tried to recreate the product the stores have.
⭑But wait. It felt itchy when you tried it? Don't worry, he made a new one already. One that you'll definitely find lovely.
⭑You don't like how he designed it? Don't worry, he made an even bigger one with a design you'll like.
⭑Brook is jumping in joy and is asking to see your panties.
⭑Until he realizes he's a skeleton.
"Yohohoho! I'm really exci--oh..."
⭑Overall, 7/10. He's good for emotional support...I guess?
⭑Lastly, our good man Jimbei.
⭑(I only saw Jimbei a few times due to Impel down and Marineford so uh...)
⭑I'd say that skincare never really crossed his mind. I mean he IS a fishman after all.
⭑But once you told him about it and how it can help you relax, he decided to take up the offer.
⭑He's probably embarrassed and just standing dumbfounded. What was he gonna do?
⭑But dw since you helped him </33
⭑AND OMG HE TIED UP HIS HAIR INTO A FULL BUN?!?!?!?!? AHHHHHH (I'm fangirling DD:...i'M SORRY JIMBEI WS SO COOL)
⭑But back to the story. I'd say he really enjoyed that. AND OF COURSE HUGS!!! HUGS ARE VERY MUCH NEEDED!!!
"Thank you for this, Y/n. I very much appreciated it."
⭑Overall, 7/10. He's pretty much quiet and doesn't know what to do. But the silence is really comforting.
A/n: AND OH MY I FINISHED IT!!! I STARTED ON THIS AT 2 PM AND NOW ITS 5 PM HUHU!! ENYWAYSSSS I HOPE YLL ENJOYED IT, LOVE YALL MWA
#fypfypfypfypfypfypdypfypfypfypfypfypfyfpfyfpfyp#tumblr fyp#x reader#gn reader#one piece#fluff#Skincare#luffy x reader#zoro x reader#nami x reader#ussopp x reader#sanji x reader#brook x reader#franky x reader#jimbei x reader#strawhats x reader#strawhats x reader platonic#platonic strawhats x reader#platonic straw hats x reader#straw hats x reader#Monkey D. Luffy x reader#Roronoa Zoro x reader#Vinsmoke Sanji x reader#GoD Ussop x reader#opla! x reader#opla!sanji x reader#opla!zoro x reader#opla!luffy x reader#opla!nami x reader#opla!ussopp x reader
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Did Five love Lila before the subway?
Well, this is a question only he knows the answer to, but today I found myself reflecting on a few scenes, and I want to share my thoughts and observations with you...
Season 2
At first, Five pretty much ignored Lila, seeing her merely as Diego's girlfriend from the mental hospital. Later, he sensed she might be lying about who she really was. In the scene where she saves him from the Swede, his expression clearly shows he’s surprised. I think that’s the moment she genuinely caught his attention—for the first time. Of course, his caution won out, and he kept an even closer eye on her. Still, I believe this was a pivotal moment.
During their first fight, Five was clearly the superior one and could have won easily. However, his triumphant gaze at her held something else: he was enjoying it. I think he found her challenging and intriguing, which drew him in.
Five bluntly tells Diego the truth about Lila, even though he sees how hurt Diego is. He throws it in his face, emphasizing that he himself is the reason they got together (more on this in Season 3).
The second fight is far more intense, with Lila determined to kill him. At this point, Five likely believed she was just another tool of the Handler and saw her as a threat he’d eliminate if necessary.
When he learns the truth about her parents, his reaction shows genuine shock. He realizes she has personal, valid reasons for targeting him. This revelation shifts his perspective; from this point, I believe he no longer truly wants to harm her.
Season 3
When Five discovers Lila has returned, she’s the only one he wants to partner with. Yes, he values her skills, but was that the only reason? I think he also wanted her company.
The bathroom scene is a chapter of its own. He must have known she was still angry with him. In this fight, it feels like Five is more focused on defending himself than actually attacking her. When Lila calls it off, he stops immediately and engages with her about the situation. This scene feels like a way to clear the air between them. And honestly, barging into someone’s bathroom isn’t exactly normal behavior—he was really asking for it. And that stance of his while talking to her? Well…
Later, when they argue, Five tells her Diego probably truly loves her. This moment stands out. Was he doing it for Diego? I don’t think so. He likely suspected "her son" might be part of her revenge plan, but why bring up Diego’s feelings? In Season 2, he didn’t seem interested in matchmaking for Diego. Could it have been for himself? To stop Lila from leaving later? Perhaps he knew the only reason she might stay was Diego.
Five understands that, because of her parents, Diego, and his own age issue, he didn’t stand a chance with her at that time. If she left, he might never see her again (I doubt he guessed she was pregnant). Reconciling her with Diego was likely the only way to keep her around. Or perhaps reflecting his own (burgeoning / unacknowledged) feelings?
At the Commission, when Lila leaves the bunker, Five glances at her in a way that suggests he doesn’t want the world to end—partly because that would mean losing her, too.
Later on, it's just small moments, but still iconic, like their dance and the apparent shift towards a truce between them.
Season 4
After six years, we don’t know much about how often Five and Lila saw each other. But given their somewhat normal lives, it likely happened a few times. Even though the first episode of the season makes it seem like most of the characters haven't seen each other in years, presenting some information in the style of family members interacting for the first time in years (well, it wasn't happily done).
The banter between Lila and Five persists, but there’s also trust. Once again, it’s just the two of them teaming up for a new mission. It’s clear by now that he genuinely cares about her and wants to protect her.
When Five talks to Diego about burying something deep and pouring concrete over it, it feels personal. What could he be referring to more than his soft spot for Diego’s wife? He also talks about Lila not giving up what she has - as if he had thought about it before.
He also agrees to her crazy idea. As in Season 3, he likely saw it as an opportunity to spend more time with her while solving mysteries.
And the subway? We all know. Only a blind person wouldn’t see that Five had fallen completely in love with her during those years. Despite the insane situation, he looked happier than ever. His smiles were genuine... and so were his glances at Lila.
So... When did he fall in love with Lila?
I think, It likely built up over time, like a snowball rolling downhill, starting from the very beginning. But the subway gave him the chance to fully embrace those feelings, and their greenhouse gave him the courage to act on them.
What do you think?
#fivelila#fivela#five x lila#lila x five#the umbrella academy#tua#reflection#my thoughts#essay#I missed some long text to think about#love#steps to falling in love
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What is love?
Carmine:Mom, how did you fall in love with dad?
Ruby:Oof, that question has no real answer.
Carmine:You don’t love him?
Ruby:Not what I said in the slightest. Why would you even- I meant there was no single instance!
Carmine:Oh…
Ruby:We bonded as friends and relied on each other physically, emotionally, mentally; at some point it just sorta hit me how happy he made me and that life without him would be so…miserable. I can’t think of a single person that I’d want in my life like this other than your father.
Carmine:Hmmm, yep, don’t really get it. Sounds nice though.
Ruby:What’s with the interest in love? You like Aero or something?
Carmine:….*looks away*
Ruby:…Awwww, my baby~
Carmine:Stop! None of that. It’s not love. Honestly I don’t fucking get it. I just know he’s important to me and it pisses me off to see him struggle.
Ruby:He’s kinda your first friend. It’s natural to feel that way. You do know he likes you, right?
Carmine:I’m aware. It’s interesting. He got mad at me for calling him out on it and wasn’t really happy about me asking for help with a case.
Ruby:Carmine it sounds like you might be taking advantage of him a little.
Carmine:But he likes to help me. He gets more upset when I do something crazy and without involving him.
Ruby:….
Carmine:What!?
Ruby:Nothing. I’m just wondering if I was this dense back then. *pats head* You want things okay between you?
Carmine:Yes.
Ruby:Then openly express your thoughts. Tell him how you feel and have an honest conversation.
Carmine:But that’s what I- isn’t that what’s been happening!? I’ve never hid anything from him; aside y’know, my eyes.
Ruby:Have you told him you care about his safety and like spending time with him.
Carmine:Y…Yes? No? I mean, isn’t that obvious? I wouldn’t fight thugs messing with him or visit often of if I didn’t care.
Ruby:Sometimes you have to say those things. You know I love you, but i still tell you that you’re my little happily ever after. *hugs her* My sweet little rose.
Carmine:…I guess that makes sense. *hugs back* Okay, maybe your advice is pretty good.
Jaune:*walks in* Hello my two roses.
Ruby:Hello, the author of my fairy tale. My beloved.
Jaune:Your mother is trying to stop me from telling you she had a crush about two weeks after we met.
Ruby:Don’t listen to him! He weaves lies and tricks! I would never get attached that fast!
Carmine:You loved me instantly.
Ruby:That’s different!
Carmine:Did you fall for mom immediately?
Jaune:Nah I crushing on Weiss.
Carmine:Makes sense.
Ruby:What do you- I can’t even be upset honestly. Weiss had a 13 step skin care routine and I couldn’t be bothered to wash my hair some days.
Jaune:*hugs both* It just meant you spent more time with me. It was a long con.
Ruby:Thanks for the out but let’s be real, I was just lazy.
xxxxxx
Aero:*opens window*
Carmine:*sitting in a tree* In case it wasn’t obvious, I actually care how you perceive me.
Aero:Spell “perceive”
Carmine:*red* I also don’t like arguing. I care about your thoughts and emotions.
Aero:Okay? I figured. But like…can you actually apologize.
Carmine:…Oh! I didn’t- I’m sorry.
Aero:….
Carmine:I’m really sorry.
Aero:…..
Carmine:*lip quivers* Am I out of friends now?
Aero:Oh my god; shut up and come inside already before your density snaps the branch.
Carmine:You shouldn’t call the girl you like heavy. *crawls inside*
Aero:You’re doing this on purpose now.
Carmine:Little bit. *hugs him*
Aero:!? You don’t like hugs.
Carmine:Yeah, but you do. So why not?
Aero:…You’re so weird. *hugs her with wings*
Carmine:Okay, if all hugs were this cool I might change my opinion.
#rwby#ruby rose#jaune arc#rwby lancaster#carmine arc rose#aero amitola#rwbabies#rwby au#rwby rosebud
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TFP CONS X FEM!CON READER HCS! PT.1
ok ngl I did this bc I’m bored. I might open requests, but idk yet bc I’m always busy. So I’m NOT opening any requests atm but I may soon!! I also didn’t do all the cons in this bc I’m so tired. So I’ll do the rest of them maybe tmrw.
Ok anyways this might be a lil bad since it’s my first time :( but enjoy either way!
Also I’m using ‘Y/N’ bc idk what else to use even tho I think I’m supposed to use it.
Warnings‼️: Mention of fighting(s), injuries, drugs (calling Megatron the druglord basically) slightly suggestive (mainly for Megatron and kinda for Knockout?)
(Megatron, Starscream, and Knockout)
—————————————————
Megatron:
-Ah yes, our favorite drug lord☺️
-When he first saw you he thought of you as any other Decepticon on the Nemesis, a weakling basically.
-Every time he’d see you he wouldn’t really think much or care honestly, like I said, you were treated and thought of like any other Decepticon by the warlord. So the two of you wouldn’t rlly interact.
-But then, the first time you fought the Autobots in front of Megatron really changed his perspective of you. Yes, you still weren’t that special out of everyone else, but you did cause something special in his spark.
-After the battle, slamming Bulkhead into the ground, Megatron actually said something to you. Praising you for your strength and courage.
“I’m quite impressed, Y/N..” Megatron praised you, arms behind his back as he circled around you. “A fem with that much strength and power is quite…alluring~”
Your optics widened, feeling a bit of a shiver run up (or go down) your back. “A-alluring?…” You repeat, “Yes…very alluring..” he responded back, he then stood behind you and placed a servo on your shoulder, gripping it a little tightly.
“I’m quite glad to have you on our side~ you’ll be very useful….” He whispered into your audial.
-After that day he started treating you differently. Definitely favorite treatment. He wouldn’t get mad at you for your fails and would just brush it off, leaving the others (Starscream and Knockout) jaw dropped.
-Sometimes Megatron would com you to see him, privately. Whenever this happens the only thing that ever happens is some little conversation. Sometimes they’d be about the war, but mostly about each other and stories of both of your lives before the war. Sometimes he’d just praise you too tho, not that you minded though, praises from him were just 🙏
-I feel like he’d fall for some strong fem. Of course, he’d still be stronger. But he would love your strength, courage, wisdom and seriousness, and sometimes he’d get a little…riled up at the height difference between the two of you.
-When he finally confessed feelings for you (he wrote a poem and recited it to you💔🥹) you were treated WAYYY differently. Being called “my queen” or “my dear,” and he would fucking force the others to call you their queen.
-how he kisses?? Passionate. He’s so rough and touchy while kissing too omfg. PDA?? Hell yeah. He don’t gaf abt who’s around, he’d grab your waist in front of everyone and whisper the most…innocent..things to you!☺️
Starscream:
-Our favorite high heel cunt!😝
-Just like Megatron, I feel like he wouldn’t really care about your presence, BUT, he would definitely talk to you about how everything goes in the Nemesis. While doing so I feel like he’d trail off and start talkin abt overthrowing Megatron💀
“-And then I get to overthrow that scrap of a warlord! YES! I will offline him soon and..” He paused and slowly turned his head to look at you, you just blinked confusingly and cleared your throat awkwardly.
“Are you alright..?” You ask, “I’m fine. Moving on!..” he responded.
-Yeah. Anyways.
-When he first saw your skills against Autobots, he was surprised. He’s never seen a fem do that much damage. Of course, he doesn’t say anything about it. He’s pretty quick to brush it off anyways.
-Sometimes he’d just fucking burst in your berthroom and tell you orders. Why? Bc he’s SIC ig😒
Starscream bursting into your berthroom, “Y/N!” You quickly turn your helm to look at him. “Huh”
“As your second in command I order you to do [whatever idk]!” He yelled, hands on his waist and everything.🤦🏻♀️
-But the more you two interact the more he realizes he doesn’t mind you being around. He seems more comfortable with you. How would you know? He’d rant to you about how he’d make you his SIC once he overthrows Megatron😭
-Then he finally falls for you. I honestly see him being hella nervous around you but tried showing off to you. One time he tried showing off he could take on Megatron, next thing you know you brought him to the Medbay-
-the way he’d confessed would be so sweet but funny too istg.
“Y/N…I..I’ve fallen for you.” He said, “you what?..” you asked, he quickly stood up, transforming into his alt and flew through the halls of the Nemesis while yelling back “I LOVE YOUUUU..!”
-After that little fail you found him in his berth in the corner like he was in time out and you just giggled. You gently rubbed his back and smiled. You also told him you fell for him and his wings fluttered.
-He’s quite silly, and you loved that. Secretly in his berthroom you’d praise him and cuddle with him (he rlly needs it🙁) he’d call you names like “my spark” or “love.” PDA?? Yes, but not in public. Sure, he’ll hold your hand sometimes in public, but in the Berth is the best place. How he kisses? Amazing. Not as suggestive as Megatron, but they’re so sweet. Soft kisses<33
Knockout:
-The best flirtatious man ever😍
-He heard about your arrival from the rumors around the Nemesis, at first he was actually intrigued. He wanted to know what you looked like and what your personality was.
-Everyday he’d wait for you to come to the Medbay if you had any injuries. Of course, you didn’t. So what a shame 😢
-But he’d hear any new thing about you from either Starscream or the rumors around.
-But when the day of you fighting the Autobots for the first time he was finally able to see you in the Medbay to treat some wounds you had gotten.
You, covered in wounds, entering the Medbay for the first time and meeting optics with Knockout. “My my my….you’re the new fem, hm? Nice to meet you Y/N, the names Knockout~”
-curse his flirtatious side.
-when he finally treated your wounds and scratches he just smirked at you.
“Thank you,” You said to him, “No problem, doll~ it was wonderful to meet you..” he responded.
-After that, the more missions you went on and the more you’d get hurt you’d stop by to get treated. Even the smallest wounds you’d get, you’d still visit him! You mainly liked his personality though.
-The more you came by the more he got comfortable with you, he’d start ranting to you about random things. Once, he ranted to you about his paint being scratched by Arcee and Bumblebee.
-Sometimes when Knockout had no one to treat you’d come by and talk to him. You loved his sassiness, it was so funny😭 you’d also praise him too, saying how you loved him paint and how shiny it was that day. In return, he’d praise you too.
-whenever you two hung out you would just sit on the medbays bed and swing your legs back n forth since you didn’t reach the ground. Knockout found it quite amusing, he’d definitely tease you for it.
-When the two of you got close, you started falling for him first. Mostly because of his flirtation…yeah…like I said, curse his flirtatious side😢
-Of course he’d still flirt with you, making you flushed everytime you’d leave the Medbay after your daily conversations.
-When you finally confessed he just started saying how he knew something like this would happen. He also felt the same, so yay! Then he started teasing you hella again.
-He’d obviously call you things like “doll” or “dollface,” like omg.😍 How he kisses?? Also passionate, not rlly touchy tho..he just holds you by the waist n that’s it. Praises EVERYDAY. Only if you praise him tho. PDA?? Same like Starscream, not in public.
—————————————
#tfp megatron#tfp megatron x reader#tfp starscream#tfp starscream x reader#tfp knockout#tfp knockout x reader#transformers#transformers prime#I love men
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15 Day BL Challenge the Threequel
Day 39: Favourite red flag character?
Payu from Love in the Air. This Masterclass Manipulator basically conned Rain into pursuing him. He played mental gymnastics with that boy when they first met not to mention he lied about not remembering him AND tampered with his car to create a whole non-currency payment situation that worked totally in his favor. But I fucking love Payu and his messy habits.
Nubsib from Lovely Writer. Pretty sure my boy might be a borderline psychopath. He didn't really care about much or others unless it was in direct relation to his beloved Gene. Bro became an actor and lied about his identity just because he HEARD Gene might be present during the filming of the series adaptation of the writer's book. Not to mention he managed to manipulate his way into living with Gene even tho ole boy had a dorm. ALSO LET'S NOT FORGET HE DELIBERATELY BOUGHT THE CONDO NEXT DOOR TO GENE'S AND DIDN'T TELL HIM. Also have y'all seen the way he makes jelly toast? Anyways...carry on.
Zongzheng Huai'en from Meet You At the Blossom. Where do I even begin? Raging jealous prince who at first wouldn't admit he liked Xiaobao but went on a bloodbath rampage at a brothel because he was there. Not to mention he lied about his identity to steal from Xiaobao's family but got so pissed when Xiaobao was untruthful with him. Then he went to full on stalking mode after he and Xiaobao. He threatened Xiaobao's life and his parents' lives. He considered stealing Xiaobao and locking him up if Xiaobao didn't take him back. Despite my love for the poorly treated prince Huai'en is the epitome of a Red Flag. I'm not even gon hold you, I was absolutely obsessed and smitten with him.
Charn from Laws of Attraction. You know what they say, "Hurt people, hurt people," and that was Charn's whole deal. He decided not to care about anyone or anything and did whatever he wanted. He cheated on his cases, tampered with evidence, exploited everyone around him, and he also tried to burn down his crush's house with the man and his granny still inside. And he did it all with THE most unsettling smile...like he was having fun. He cared more about getting revenge than about others or even himself. He was on a self destructive ride to oblivion and he was just fine with that. He was so charming tho and that makes up for everything.
Kiyoi from Utsukushii Kare. I mean my boy was a bully and treated Hira like crap when they first met. He wanted to be worshipped by all but allowed the worst people to be around him just because they admired him and thought he was pretty. He was mean-spirited at times and constantly lashed out at Hira. I know that part of the reason he was so harsh with his own boyfriend though is because often times Hira acted more like a stalker fan than a boyfriend. He acted like an outsider in his own relationship so I can see how that would be extremely frustrating to Kiyoi.
Gao Shi De from We Best Love. Let's see...because he didn't know how to confess he made himself relevant in his crush's life by beating him at every single thing they did in life (academics, sports, contests, and popularity). He rigged a door knob to fall off so he could spend the night with his crush oh and also tricked him into becoming his errand boy. Then after they finally got together he allowed an outsider to talk him into ghosting the love of his life for FIVE YEARS. Then tried to get him back without even trying to explain what happened. A hot ass mess...my beloved.
#blchallenge2k24#love in the air#lovely writer#laws of attraction#meet you at the blossom#we best love#we best love: no. 1 for you#we best love: fighting mr. 2nd#utsukushii kare#my beautiful man
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✦ October 24th | sex pollen
AN 𓏧
↳ ○ | AN| Hi, hello, we are going to pretend that this isn't three days late. I was FIGHTING for my life with this one, I'm not going to lie. We got there though, I'm not 100% happy with this, but that might be me being real nit picky. The Master is a real ass in this one, it feels a little non-con, since a few things happen, I'll throw it in the TW too, but it's not really, just kinda vibes briefly. I'm only going to do one more, (well two because treat won for trick or treat, so I will be doing a Dhawan!Master x Reader one and a Kate Stewart x Reader one for Halloween, to finish it out. Once again I will keep the rest of the ones I didn't do for Kinktober and maybe release them slowly. This was a big big challenge for me, the whole kinktober thing, and that's on me for thinking a week or so before October that I could certainly do 31 fanfictions, even if they were supposed to be short little smutty drabbles. I have quickly learned, I can't just write short little things...I won't apologize for that though, because that's the roleplayer in me...I was absolutely one of those long-ass novel writing role players. I LIKE WORDS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU LET ME HAVE MY PROSE AND STUFF! Anyway I once again tried to keep it rather gender-neutral, but it's implied female anatomy, but if you squint maybe not? I tried, I SWEAR I will do Master x male reader sometime. SMUT MDNI
SUMMARY𓏧
↳ ○ how was he supposed to know the flowers on this planet were in bloom this time of year. How was he supposed to know how they would effect your human body? (Spoilers he knew.)
PAIRING𓏧
↳ ○ Simm!Master x Reader
TW𓏧
↳ ○ mentions of hypnosis, sex pollen, so consensual, but at what cost? sort of vibes. unprotected p in v sex, semi-clothed sex, the master is a right asshole, cumshot. petnames.
WORD COUNT𓏧
↳ ○ 3100
A03 lINK𓏧
↳ ○ x
MASTERLIST LINK𓏧
↳ ○ x
★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★
You were suspicious when he brought you to this planet; he called it Hevides, said it was a nice little flora planet, perfect this time of year. You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets, looking around as he exited the tardis, which aptly was pretending to be a tree. That wasn’t going to cause problems later, you were sure. He explained that there were a few rare plants on Hevides that he wanted to get his hands on; he wouldn’t tell you what for, but you assumed it was for a nefarious plan; it always was. You followed after him; it was a beautiful planet, you would give it that, but you also had a deep, nagging fear that a man-eating plant or something was going to get you, and that would be a terrible fate, just this giant piranha plant from Wish looking thing eating you. You were careful where you stepped; thick vines were littering the forest floor, which definitely didn’t help your imagined scenario of being eaten by a plant while there.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” you finally asked, but his annoyed scoff told you it was the wrong question to ask.
“Ye’ of such little faith,” he muttered as he walked past you.
“I mean, do I have to remind you of the fish people?” You started.
“Fish peop—you mean the sea devils? Come now, pet, that’s xenophobic.” He teased you. You stammered and tried to back petal, to which he chuckled and kept walking. “They weren’t fish; they were more like turtles if anything,” he shook his head.
“No, I didn’t mean it in a—I didn’t know they were called that." You stammered out, “And wait, wait, you don’t get to call me that; you are the most—” He cut you off and shook his head.
“Just because I think everyone is beneath me? Because they are, and you silly little apes are no exception, little backward things you are,” he tilted his head watching you. “Now don’t pout, pet; I picked you, didn’t I? As my companion,” he smirked his tone, teasing on the word companion. He disliked the word, but it was the best word to describe you and your relationship.
"Yeah, moving on; we don’t have time for all that right now; you told me the sea devils were safe, and then they tried to kill us.” You pointed out.
“Miscommunication, and perhaps some old hard feelings.” He waved it off and clapped, making a victorious sound as he spotted what he was looking for. It was a large purple and orange flower; it looked similar to a sunflower if you had to compare it to something; the middle was covered in thick red pollen. He motioned you over, and you shifted, walking a bit closer. You hadn’t noticed how careful he had been stepping around it. When you got close enough, he flicked the back of the flower, making the pollen fly into the air around you. You coughed and sputtered, trying to cover your mouth so more of the bitter pollen didn’t get into your mouth. You looked at him with a look of disbelief as you doubled over coughing harder.
“Don’t fight it; just breathe normally," he instructed as he observed you. “I just want to see how it affects you,” he said almost nonchalantly.
“An experiment, right now, with a mystery plant!” You used the sleeve of your jacket trying to breathe. You felt funny, but not in a funny way; more like your body was slowly getting hotter, your blood was on fire, and your skin felt uncomfortable, like your clothing touching it was too much. The feeling was overwhelming quickly. Then the heat pooled, and you felt an ache between your legs. You blinked, trying to determine the feeling and will it away. Your head was hazy. You took a step back, your pupils dilating more; he moved forward, catching you before you almost fell in your attempted retreat.
His fingers pressed against the side of your neck, on your pulse point, feeling your heart racing, pulsing against his fingers, he hummed. Your hand wrapped around his forearm; you tried to look angry, but your body was on fire, and his cold touch felt good; it would feel better lower. You blinked at your own thought; you felt your mouth water, and he pulled you up carefully. “Talk me through what you are feeling,” he smirked. “I mean, I can see some physical signs, some delightful tells, but I want to know how it feels for you.” He said like he was a scientist, and this was all a very ethical experiment.
You almost didn’t want to tell him; you felt squirmy. Was that a word you could use? Was that a scientific description? “I’m on fire,” you breathed out. His hand grabbed your throat, letting his thumb brush your jawline before he moved your head side to side to look you over with that cocky grin. You let out a softer sound, “I don’t know, I mean, it’s overwhelming really; I am shaky, and there is this..." You paused, not knowing if you wanted him to know about the ache, but he looked at you with an expectant look. “I just...feel horny,” you muttered out the last word, looking away from him, but he tsked and pushed your jaw with his thumb so you would look back at him. “I just, I need..." You sighed.
“Need what? Go on, tell me... I am all ears.” He grinned at you again; you could tell he had a sort of satisfaction about this reaction. You wanted to stay mad, you really did, but your mind was so hazy now that you couldn’t think about anything but getting rid of this ache. It was nothing like you had ever felt before, and you were worried, scared almost. What was this pollen doing to you?
“I just want the ache to go away. I just want—” you muttered out, locking eyes with him. His honey-colored eyes took you in. He studied your face, how flushed you looked, and how desperate you sounded. He looked down at you as your hips arched subconsciously against his, and a snider grin took his lips.
“Such a needy, desperate thing.” He teased, “And why should I help you?” He asked like this wasn’t completely his fault.
You blinked and looked at him almost in disbelief, “Because you brought me here! Because you made the pollen come off the flower?” You said shortly, his free hand left his pocket and moved to grab right above your hip. “You knew this would happen!” You accused, to which he gave you those puppy dog eyes.
“I didn’t know this exact thing would happen; I mean, I could have hypothesized about the effects on your silly human body, but I wasn’t completely sure, well, until now.” He nodded. “It won’t kill you, so stop worrying so much; just feel a bit.” He grinned, “You are adorable like this...all needy.” He mused a bit; he found this whole thing amusing, and you let out an annoyed strangled sound; you were getting so worked up, and he was just standing there being amused; you could strangle him.
“Why isn’t it affecting you?” You sighed, trying to focus. You had a lot of willpower, so maybe you could work through this, maybe.
“Respiratory bypass... held my breath when I flicked it.” He shrugged like it should have been common knowledge to you by now. "Plus, I’m sure it wouldn’t have affected me anyway.” He let your throat go and stepped back. “Come along. There really was something else I needed to get here.” He said and started to walk. You didn’t move; however, he paused when he didn’t hear you following him. He turned to you and raised an eyebrow. “Well?” You stayed still; you didn’t know if you could trust your legs to carry you properly. He rolled his eyes. “Are you playing disobedient now? Should I make you follow me, pet?” He asked, and you knew he was implying he was just hypnotizing you; maybe that would override what you were feeling.
“No, you don’t have to do that,” you muttered. You took a deep breath and forced your legs to move; even though they shook a bit, your whole body did. You didn’t like this feeling, this sheer feeling of need; the heat was almost unbearable. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you slowly followed him, glaring at the back of his stupid head as he leisurely strolled through the forest looking for what he was really after. You walked for what felt like ever; the effects were getting worse, your body shook more, and you had to stop and lean against a tree to hold yourself up. "Master,” you breathed out. He paused, taking note of your breathy call. He turned around and looked at you, taking in your appearance; it seemed the pollen was in full bloom in you now. He tilted his head, noticing how you were leaning, how you subconsciously clenched your thighs together, and how one hand gripped onto the stomach area of your jacket. You looked weak now, shaky. He inwardly sighed like you were a nuisance before he turned on his heel and walked towards you.
“You humans are so fragile,” he muttered and moved to pin you against the tree; his hands ran through your hair, forcing you to look at him again. The touch made you breathe out, “You aren’t going to be any good to me if you can’t keep up.” He mock pouted at you, “I suppose I, once again, have to take care of you.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, moving to let his hand trail down your stomach, stopping at the button of your pants. He looked at you for a moment, taking note of how your eyes were hazy, how you had the look of pure need, and how he could smell how aroused you were just by the air around you. That pollen made short work of you, and it amused him more than it should have. It melted your reservations, so much so that you were shifting a bit, trying to get him to undo your pants; it was like your mind couldn’t think of anything but getting off. “Oh and out here in the open, the great outdoors, how scandalous of you, bunny.” He mocked a bit. You felt your cheeks heat up more. He was right; you would have never done anything like this in public, not that this was public; this was in the middle of an alien forest; you hadn’t seen signs of civilization or anything of that sort, though that didn’t mean there wasn’t.
You choked out a whine; you didn’t want to wait anymore, yet here he was being his normal mocking, snarky self, taking his time because he wanted to annoy you; that’s what it had to be. He finally pulled the button free, and with a delicate movement, he unzipped your pants, letting them fall past your knees and pool around your feet, but he didn’t touch you yet; he let his hand slip under your jacket, pushing it and your shirt up as he stepped closer, his mouth pressing against your neck, his hands groped at your chest, kneading the flesh there, listening to the lovely needy sounds that were spilling from your parted lips. He pressed against you more, keeping you snuggly pressed against the tree, the bark scraping your back, but the pain from it didn’t translate; it almost felt good. Your hand gripped and your nails scraped at the bark; your other hand grabbed his arm, gripping the fabric of his black jacket. Each kiss and nip caused you to whine and groan out; it felt so good; everything felt so enhanced; someone could be making a killing using this as one of those ‘enhancer’ pills, a funny thought that was quickly pushed from your head as his hips rolled against yours, grinding against you. He let a soft growl escape his throat as he sucked a dark mark into your skin before his hands slid down and grabbed your legs, easing them up to sit against his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, your body so hot, your blood felt like it was boiling, you whined out, you felt so damn needy, you didn’t like it, your senses were on overdrive.
"Oh, what fun little sounds you make,” he muttered against your throat and pressed an open-mouth kiss against it before letting his teeth graze again. All these little touches and nips were driving you mad.
“Master! Please!” You choked out, pressing against him more, well, as much as you could in this position. As you pathetically rutted against him, he arched his hips up some, and you could feel his arousal, the bulge in his pants growing. He moved one hand down to undo his belt, and you gave a soft, needy sound.
“Down pet,” he smirked, kissing your neck again as he pulled his belt some and then undid his pants. “So needy, I bet you are dying to get fucked.” He growled in your ear. The growl sent a rippling shiver down your spine; you had never needed something more than in this moment. “I’ll admit, this was a very insightful experiment.” He said pulling himself free from his boxers, slowly stroking his cock, teasing against you with the tip, “like a dam broke.” He teased you; you hated that, but you couldn’t help it; the pollen thrummed through you still. You were about to say something, anything to get him to just help you, but he pressed the tip into your dripping entrance. Which caused a breathy sound to escape. He slowly sank in, pulling you against him, One hand moved to cup against your ass, and the other was held against the tree by the side of your head as he started a deliciously slow rhythm. It was clear he was milking this to see you so desperate that you would do anything. It made perfect sense to you; with who he was, you knew he was going to make you beg, even though this was all his fault. Acting like it was an inconvenience, and he was so benevolent to help you, to fuck you.
Your hips rolled against him, trying to get him to stop being so teasingly; his mouth found your neck again, sucking against your pulse point; he could feel how hard your heart was pounding, and you panted out. A deep thrust pulled a long groan from your throat, which made him smirk against your neck. You clenched against him, a diabolically delightful feeling for both of you, which made him grunt against you, biting your neck. He got the message and moved, pressing you harder against the tree, picking up his pace to something rougher, something faster; he wasn’t being playfully teasing anymore.
“I don’t think you really mean it; maybe I should stop and let you think about it some.” He pulled his hips back, but you tightened your grip around his waist; there was no way in hell you were going to let him stop.
Your nails scratched into the treebark behind you, the hand against his arm tightened more, your breath ragged as you groaned and moaned out, the feeling intense, the pleasure making you dizzy thanks to your already hazy mind from the pollen, you felt your muscles tighten and a pooling in your stomach, from your tensing and how your core pulsated around him, he knew you were close. He slowed suddenly, causing you to make a pathetic sound. “You can cum when I say you can,” he nipped below your ear. You couldn’t even think; your mind was swirling. How could he be so cruel and control this right now when your body needed this? “Oh, you want it so badly; listen to you, whining,” he smirked and made a mock whine in your ear. “You know what to ask for.” He breathed out and rolled his hips slowly, pulling almost all the way out, before slowly pushing back in.
You weren’t even sure you could form proper words right now, and he wanted you to feed into his control; he wanted you to beg for him to finish you. There was another low whined sound that he pulled from your throat. You thought about not playing his game, but he would stop, and you certainly didn’t want that. “Please, please let me cum, please, I need to,” you begged out, in the best tone you could manage, even arching and writhing against him, making sure to lock eyes with him. He studied you and shook his head with that cocky grin.
“Master please!” You slid your hand up from his arm to the back of his neck, keeping him close. “I’m sorry! Please! Please, I need you. I’m sorry, please! Please let me cum.” You breathed out in an almost panicked breath; this seemed to please him because he returned to the rhythm that he had been at before. “Please!” You doubled down. The stream of begging words and praises fell from your lips as you clung to him. You choked out a loud screamed Master, as you felt your body snap, the pleasure rushing your blood. The feeling of need was there but not as strong as it had been. He hissed out as your walls clenched against him and flexed milking against his cock. There was a moment he considered marking you as his in the most primal way, but he reluctantly pulled from your divine heat, rutting against you, holding the base of his cock as he groaned out, painting your stomach with strands of hot cum; it splattered against your bare stomach and the bottom of your jacket. There would be time for anger about that later. After a few long silent moments, he let you down to lean against the tree he had just fucked you against as he fixed his pants and redid his belt, making a face as he looked over your appearance. “Messy,” he said, like he once again didn’t cause the problem.
You took deep breaths trying to come down, you slowly fixed yourself, and your gaze flinted up to him. You could feel the prickle of the pollen still, but it certainly wasn’t as bad as it had been. “Do you think you can focus and keep up now? Tell you what, darling, we finish this up, and maybe if you are good and keep up, we can have some more fun when we get back to the tardis; dunno how long the pollen is going to control your silly little human mind, but I would love to study the effects more closely.” He smirked, and you nodded weakly, looking down at the mess he had made of you. It was going to be a long adventure, that was for sure.
★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★
Taglist𓏧 ↳ ○ @bees-fart-too , @bakusquadobsessed , @anastasa-mslfedit , @cabinedepapel , @asteria237 , @suckerforcate , @bingewatchingmylifegoby , @toastvogel , @starbucks-06 If you want to be added to the rest here is the l x
#the master x reader#doctor who x reader#doctor who#simms!master x reader#simm!master x female reader#simm!master x f!reader#simm!master#doctor who smut#kinktober#kinktober '24#kinktober 2024#tw: smut
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What does this mean for Phee and Jin? Did Phee set out on a revenge plot but developed real feelings for Jin?
Anon, I've been obsessed with this show since the very first episode, and I have never been on the "Phi and Jin are end game" ship because I think that
Jin had to be the worst of them.
Recap:
I wrote that Phi was sus af in the very first episode, and one reason was because he didn't hear the noise that Jin heard.
This happens again when Jin and Phi are running from the masked killer, and Jin is the only one to see a bloody Mr. Keng.
Some people are defending Fluke's actions because he didn't actively do anything to harm Non, but he also knew about the broken camera and said nothing, so I think whatever Jin did was even worse. He couldn't just have known about the bad stuff happening to Non. He must have also intentionally turned a blind eye and LEFT Non, which is exactly what Phi subtly calls him out on in the first episode, and probably why Jin is leaving Thailand for good.
Because I also mentioned that these boys have known each other longer than we were told in the first episode. The boys said Tan and Phi came AFTER Non disappeared, but I think Jin knew Phi way back in the tutoring days, but hadn't realized Phi knew Non since Jin said Mr. Keng's name like Phi knew who that was (because Phi probably went to tutoring too and that's how he "met" Jin).
I think White is gonna be the final gay, and Tan is the second killer because one of them has to be Non's brother, no? But I think it's Tan because homie always got twenty million questions and White wasn't even supposed to be on this trip.
Either way, Jin has never been on my "gonna live to the end" even though Jin is the main character,
And he already wrote his end. All the boys are dying the way they forced Non to change the script, which is why Phi is following Non's script this time around. He is making sure these boys get what they asked for. Hell, even the driver was the first to die in the original film, and was the first to die in the present, and Fluke watched Non's fall into hell at the hands of Tee and Top, and now he is being tasked with watching his friends as they die.
Once again, I think Jin was the worst because he acted as Non's protector and he started having feelings for Non,
Yet Jin might have betrayed Non somehow since Phi dropped this line in the coffin.
And Phi seems to have strung Jin along for a bit, which makes me believe that Phi is giving Jin a taste of his own medicine.
Tan asked Phi if Phi and Jin were "better" and Phi said that Jin won't even look at his face, and I feel that is pivotal to this plot. Phi wants Jin to trust him . . . the same way Non trusted Jin?
In the original film, Jin and Non were running away from the masked killer, and Jin left Non behind. It was just a film, but maybe, perhaps, possibly, Jin really left Non behind somewhere.
Phi has been playing the long con with these boys, so this shit is hella personal. If Phi was with Non and wanted more with Non, yet was doing the devil's tango at one point with Jin, I truly feel that Phi is committed to having Jin care about him.
Just so he can be the one to betray him.
*applying clown makeup* Jin fucked up big time somehow, and Phi has been playing him the longest because he wants Jin to feel every bit of pain he caused Non.
What did you do, Jin? What. Did. You. Do?
#dead friend forever#dead friend forever the series#I'm on another level#I'm so happy!#this is my favorite show of all time#I'm obsessed#dead friend forever spoilers#spoilers#Jin has the be the worst#because what is all this for?!#Phi is committed to the bit#and being Jin's protector is the bit
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OMG!!! <3 I’m in love with all your content. It’s so hard finding yandere Shadowpeach, especially in a ploy relationship with oc/reader!!! I enjoy the dark themes this can bring to the table!!! I’m curious however, to hear your nsfw (smut) headcanons regarding the monkeys in a yandere romantic relationship and then how that changes with oc/reader? ;3 (Only if you’re comfortable, as I read somewhere that you are planning on featuring smut in some of the fanfics).
I have a few NSFW's that I am currently trying to work on. They are harder than I thought but I shall give you these headcannons of mine. (For this I'll use my cursed warlords AU because I might decide to change it up per au who knows)
Now onto it!
Shadowpeach Headcannons (NSFW)
I imagine that before the two got together, there was a lot of chemistry.
Wukong would get drunk once in a while (like blackout drunk). During this, he'd definitely be flirty with Macaque. Macaque, who never drank more than he could handle.
So Macaque would barely hold himself back as Wukong teased him in every way possible. The want to pounce was always there, he would want and pine to jump onto his King and fuck him senseless.
What made it harder was Wukongs hands raking across his body, teasing and taunting him. The number of times he nearly slid his hands into his warriors' pants counted into the hundreds before they got together. The only reason they never got further was because Macaque put a stop to it rather quickly.
After they get together?
Macaque is all on Wukong, weather drunk or not. He has months of teasing to repay (teasing that Wukong doesn't recall)
He'll suck Wukong off, enjoying the peachy flavor (why not?)
He'll bind him in shadows to keep him still when he's on top.
He also likes it when he makes Wukong beg, it's one of his favorite parts of sex. It only happens when he's bound up in shadows as that's the only time that Wukong can't really move to help himself.
He'll be more than willing to fuck him any way he or his mate wants. Nothing is off the table.
Both him and Wukong would be constantly fighting for dominace when they are in bed. They both like to be on top.
Like Macaque, Wukong likes to be on top as said before.
Even before the two got together Wukong would be extremely flirty while he was drunk.
He would never say it put loud but he was addicted to Macaque's scent.
He of course never understood why he was but he was.
He would never admit it out loud but he likes it when Macaque ties him up.
Wukong will tease and often. He'll slid his tail up Macaque's leg or even wrap it around his tail. He does not care who is in attendance because he’s a warlord (and even before that) he just doesn’t care about other’s opinions. (Except when they think badly of him. You all know his temper)
He will do anything to be on top, well unless he gets bound up. He can’t resist that feeling.
Now keep in mind this man never had sexual encounters with anyone before Macaque (Why? Because I said so)
Though neither of them liked the idea of a threesome, at least not until they met Reader.
Once Reader gets involved
Of course when Reader came along a few things change.
Once these two both figure out they love her (and get over their little bickerment) they are all for a threesome. (Only with Reader though)
The two still have their own rough exchanges because they know they can each handle it.
They want to be gentle with Reader because she is human. And they don’t want to hurt her.
Will leave bitemarks and possibly small bruises (which they will tend to if they do, they're not used to controlling their strength for humans)
They both love the idea of breeding you in every way possible.
They prefer to cum inside of you which means they’ll probably take turns.
Now I do want to clarify that I have a dub-con warning in my masterpost that is for nights such as drunk sex. Yeah mostly drunk sex and threats for kisses.
The threats for kisses is because they crave your affection. They will make ‘playful’ threats to get kisses and cuddles.
They’ll burn a house down if you don’t give them a kiss on the cheek. This is mostly from Wukong of course.
If Reader is drunk and initiates the act they have a hard time resisting. Depending on how drunk you are depends on the outcome.
Tipsy? They will definitely have sex with you.
Drunk? If you look like you are in control they would do it. If you’re not stumbling or slurring words or swaying.
Now if you are almost blackout drunk or even starting to slur your words. Nope, they are not doing it. (Unless if they are also drunk)
Instead they will take you to bed to rest and sleep. In the morning they will definitely be flirtatious though, hoping that it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. They’d shoot their shot, even if they get shot down.
If Reader says no to them they will stop. For your safety and your comfort. Or if you simply don’t want to, these two aren’t going to force you at all.
Afterwards weather your drunk, tired or still have energy they are cleaning you up. Flower Fruit Mountain has many hot springs and they have their personal one that they don’t even let other monkey demons get in.
You might be tired or sore who knows. But you are set into the water so you will be soaking for a while as they make sure that you are nice and clean.
As soon as you are clean they’ll let you relax in the water before taking you to bed. Since these two have probably exhausted you.
Is this everything? No. But just some head cannons that came to my mind.
Hands trailed down your body both from the front and the back. Wukong was pressed to your back and Macaque to your front as they nipped and left small bites across your collarbone. You held in a whine as you bit your lips. Wukong’s hands were the first to slide past your waist and gently gripped your thighs. Too much, too much.
“S-STOP!” All at once both of the Monkey Kings froze.
“Are you alright?”
“Did I hurt you?”
“N-No… I just don’t want to.” You were holding back tears. You weren’t ready for anything like this, you didn’t want to. Everything was happening so fast. But as soon as you said to stop, both of them listened.
“Oh honey, it’s alright. Hey, hey don’t cry,” Macaque lifted his hands to your face wiping away a few terrified tears.
“It’s alright, we don’t have to continue. How about we cuddle instead, you were okay with that yesterday,” Wukong added as he took his hands away, walking around you to help clean up your face a bit.
“No matter what, you can always tell us no for anything like this,” Macaque added as he gave you a few kisses on the cheek.
You sniffled as they sat down on their large nest full of the fluffiest blankets and pillows the two monkey kings could find. These two, no matter how much they craved for you still gave you this mercy. They wouldn’t force themselves onto you, even if they wouldn’t let you leave. You were trapped on the mountain with them, but they still loved you in a way that they would never make you do something like that against your will.
“Yeah. We can cuddle and talk. Talk about anything you want. We’re right here,” Wukong added with a chuckle, as he kissed your cheek again.
Did I stress enough how this would go? I think so. They love you and knowing your from another world would make them so some desperate measures. But those desperate measures have limits! Consent is highly important, so I wanted to stress that in this post. Since it’s the first one like it that I’ve got.
I’ma be honest with ya’ll I have had this post in my inbox and drafts for a while. I just haven’t finished it. But now it’s done. So I do hope for your feedback. I like these headcannon style posts. Have other questions send them my way. I may be slow, life may get in the way, or I might procrastinate. But- I don’t delete asks unless they actually make me uncomfortable so it’s mostly free game. Even if I am slow 😅
#dead dove do not eat#sun wukong x macaque#yandere sun wukong#yandere macaque#sun wukong x reader#macaque x reader#Shadowpeach x reader#Shadowpeach x female reader#cursed warlords au#cursed warlords lmk au#shadowpeach
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