#god can you imagine growing up and growing old only to look at your past victim in the eye and see nothing has changed for him?

[sunsburns]

imagine asking wade if he still likes you when he’s literally inside you LMAOOO I just know he’d be so flabbergasted

i know a normal people fan when i see one (18+, fluff)

but jokes aside, and dicks inside, wade would likely get whiplash; his head turning so fast he can hear a crack in his neck, staring at you like you're crazy because just seconds ago you'd been running your gentle hands over his skin. your fingers brush against the divots of his scarred skin, your cheek pressed to his chest, humming softly, close enough that your lashes tickle whenever you blink.

wade's a little out of breath, sticky with sweat, and miraculously, rendered speechless. to others, a rarity, but with you, while still rare, is more frequent, especially after sex.

sure, he drops a joke or two, but there is a window where wade likes to sit there, holding you, skin against skin, in silence; listening to the sounds of your shaky breaths as you come down from your high, the sounds of the bedsheets ruffling with slow movements from the both of you, even the sounds of the old crackly fan on his ceiling.

and so, in that small window of silence, the two of you lay there in a warm embrace, listening to each other's heartbeats as wade's dick slowly softens inside you.

but then that small window starts to close, the silence breaking with you. you shift, turning to press your chin against wade's chest while looking up at him, "hey," you whisper, a smile growing against your lips.

"hi," he whispers back to you, but he continues to stare at the window, watching the soft light of the rising sun peeking in through the white lace curtains you picked out, a part of you in the dingy apartment he shared with blind al.

"we've officially gone at it all night. fucking like rabbits. and i can't believe i'm saying this but, i'm fucking spent. i might need a few weeks to recover. i asked for a bone and you threw a whole skeleton at me, peanut."

you snort, rolling your eyes, "yeah, right."

"okay, fine, a week is too long." wade hums, he finds your hair and runs his hand over it, twirling a strand around his finger, "i'll be good as new by tonight or at least by the time you scroll to read another fic of me, of course."

you're still staring at him, and wade, ever the observant, notices. he shifts, sits up, holds onto your waist, and brings you up with him. you have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan, sensitive to the way he's touching you, the way his dick keeps you full.

wade raises his brows (or at least, where his brows would be), "what? is there something on my face? i know i'm ugly but i thought we were past that. your staring is making me a little self conscious, sweetbuns."

"wade?"

"yes, cupcake?"

"do you like me?"

"what-?" he stares at you, eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head. "do i- what? what the fuck kind of stupid ass fuck ass question is that? you think i don't like you? we literally fucked all night. literally did every position in the book. i let you peg me! you might be the only person on earth that matches my freak-"

"yeah, i know but-"

"bitch, i'm literally still inside you."

that's when you can't help but laugh, grinning against his neck when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. you love the way his body emits warmth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer like you want to live inside his skin.

wade holds you, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. and he groans loudly when you say, "you never answered my question."

"oh my god," he huffs dramatically, "of course i fucking like you. like no shit."

"okay, great. i was just making sure."

[cupid-grl]

18+ mdni.

thinkin bout perv!könig who can’t help but feel disgusted with himself over the fact that he’s lusting over his friends daughter. she’s barely old enough to legally drink, and he was almost old enough to consider retirement.

he thought his growing desire couldn’t get any more serious, but oh he was so wrong.

whenever visiting your dad, he’d make sure to avoid all eye contact with you and greet you with a quick mumbled hello, austrian accent running thick in his voice. and then there’s you, so cheeky and welcoming. so eager to meet new people, so hospitable as the older man over a foot taller than you is barely able to meet your gaze.

and imagine how stiff he is in more places than one, when he feels your arms barely managing to wrap around his big muscular torso. you’re so touchy when excited, you can’t help it. he begs to any god that you can’t feel the growing tent beneath his cargo jeans when his eyes catch your pretty boobs squeezed against his chest. darkened eyes travel down the valley of your tits, whilst his face flushes red and he’s all hot and bothered. but all he can do is pat the small of your back as a way to reciprocate your affection, afraid of groping you while his friend is in the same room.

the cheeky smile you give him with those pretty doe eyes looking up into his own, trying to make out his features beneath the handmade veil draped across his head. but you can’t, though it doesn’t brother you. and you don’t dare ask him to lift it up, the last thing you’d wanna do is scare off your dads new friend.

and he’s so glad you can’t see the red, sweaty mess he is beneath it.

you’re just so caring, so inviting whenever you ask him to come into your room. so naïve and innocent when you sit him down on your bed and show off anything and everything in your room. it’s so pink, so pretty, so you. he says nothing as you show off the new skimpy dresses you bought yourself, thinking nothing of it when he asks if you can show him off.

let me see if it fits, might have to return it if not. just to be sure, he says.

and of course, you’re so excited and think he’s the smartest most caring man alive.

you change out of your regular clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and bra as his eyes gawk at the sight of your exposed body. he can’t take his eyes off your pretty tits when you bend over, giving him a clear view of what they’d look like dangling above him. can’t keep his eyes off your ass as you wiggle your way through the variety of dresses you try on.

and when you ask for his help taking the dress off? oh he’s quick to stand up and unzip it, taking his time when it reaches just below your ass. his fingertips graze down the middle of your ass, accidentally brushing against your clothed cunt. he apologises right after, and you forgive him right away. silly könig and his slippery fingers! accidents happen, you remind him.

if it’s a movie night and your dads too busy to watch with you, don’t worry, because könig is quick to sit next to you on the couch.

can i watch with you, liebling?

and who are you to say no? you allow him to cuddle you from behind as you two try and lay on the small furniture. but he’s so big and muscular, you both struggle to fit so he suggests you lay on top of him. könig always comes up with a solution to everything, always so helpful with you.

you don’t question when he pulls you flush to his chest, telling you it’s to prevent you from leaning over the edge. your sweet, caring könig was only ever looking out for you.

and you don’t question it when his hand moves from the curve of your waist, down to the waistline of your shorts. where his fingers tug beneath the fabric, tracing alongside the hem of your underwear.

or when his hand manages to accidentally slip past your underwear, strong fingers finding their way to your already hardened clit, middle finger running down your soaked slit to gather lube up both his fingers. you don’t question it when könig begins circling your clit with his middle and index finger, his movements so soft and slow. you can’t help but quietly whimper at the friction, hips rocking against his fingers while he wraps his free hand over your mouth, gripping onto the sides of your face. poor perv!könig jus wants to feel how soft your clit is, to feel the warmth of your slick against his cold fingers. jus wants to feel all of you.

häschen, he whispers against the crook of your neck, followed by light kisses on your neck.

his throbbing bulge pressed against the plush skin of your clothed ass, hips bucking against the softness for any sort of relief. your eyes widen, and you can’t help but imagine how much better this would feel. he feels so big from behind, you’re almost scared of actually seeing it.

all you can do is cry out into the palm of his hands when his speed picks up and he sticks his two digits inside your aching cunt. the coils in your stomach begin burning and you can feel your arousal travel down to your core. you clench around his big fingers, squirting all over his hand and your leg, arousal dripping onto the couch.

the movie had finished by the time you did, credits rolling down the screen as you’re trying to catch your breath, while könig brings his glistening fingers up to his mouth and licks at your juices. he removes his fingers from his mouth with a pop, planting a kiss on your ear.

can’t wait for more of you he whispers as you both stand up, fixing yourselves as your dad walks in the living room, seemingly unaware of how your hair was messy and how the stitching of your shorts didn’t align right with your body.

könig excuses himself, announcing to your dad that he’ll be going now. your lips form into a pout, brows furrowing as the two men give eachother a side hug goodbye. könig turns back to look at you, and from the crinkle of the skin around his eyes, you can tell he was smiling at you.

you return it, and as he turns to leave, he speaks up one more time.

i will see you next week. and you know it was meant for you. you know he was meant for you.

a perv!könig who can’t wait for the next time he sees you.

[a41-i-finally-caved]

JJ and PTSD and why 4.10 was a slap in the face

Okay. so. Here's my issue.

(there will be a ton of cursing because I'm fucking pissed.)

JJ's ENTIRE FUCKING ARC has been him feeling like he's worthless, like he's somehow inherently evil, that he "deserves" the things that happen to him, that everything's all his fault. That he should be killed saving his friends because that's all he's fucking good for.

And that? That's not a JJ-exclusive thought pattern. That's what happens to your brain when you're a CHILD and a fucking grown ass man instills that in your head. Whether physical and verbal abuse like they showed in canon, or childhood sexual abuse like what's happened to me and many, many others. An adult shows you that you're not worth shit compared to them, and since you, again, are a child, you fucking believe them. Adults teach you about the world, and kids are good fucking listeners.

So you grow up knowing down to your guts that you don't belong on this earth, you don't own your body, you don't deserve the space you take up. Any of y'all confused by JJ's bullshit?? Well there you go. That's the very basic assumption he's working off of: he's dead, been dead for years, so what the fuck's it matter what he does? It doesn't.

(I don't know how to express that screaming lack of existence to those with an inherent understanding of their own worth and right to living but the closest I can get is this. You look at yourself and understand that no matter what actions you take, you are wrong on a soul-deep level and there's nothing you can do about it.)

Here's the thing. It's all bullshit. And it takes so much fucking effort to believe that, and some days you don't but you trust that you will tomorrow or the next day or the next. That's called healing. That's called living.

Because the only way past this is time and support and fucking proving with every breath that no. Fuck you. I deserve to be here. I deserve to get old. To cry. To weep. To fucking dance on a dock because you finally made a home. That you deserve to LIVE.

And S4E10 just declared no; you don't. JJ was too damaged to give him any other ending. Even Kie couldn't fix him. The best he could hope for was dying in the dirt with someone he loved. Oh look he gave up the crown! He was happy in the end! He had his wish! He loved her!!

Yeah well sorry to bust the 'isn't it all so tragic' circle jerk, but no. It's not fucking poetic. Or beautiful. Or God-fucking-forbid romantic. It's shit.

Because JJ Maybank was never real, but they chose to highlight the very much real pain I and others struggle with using his story. And then they told me that struggle ends with death...because how else could it end?

Just because y'all can't imagine living his life and going on, and going on, and going on, and not fucking killing yourself doesn't mean the rest of us aren't looking down that path every day and deciding to break those lies in one moment of existence after another.

The showrunners missed that.

If they wanted to finish JJ's arc? It wasn't saving Kie, or finally having some 'realization', or sacrificing himself for his friends. It wasn't some short but meaningful life.

JJ needed to fucking live to prove that he deserved it. End of story.

Thanks for the slap.

[websterss]

COMING BACK (1) — ETHAN LANDRY

REQUEST: I have a really good fic idea! would u mind taking mine? If you have watched the Netflix series “you” then this request might seem familiar. Basically Ethan is about to stab Y/n but she quickly says she is pregnant then you can do whatever you want to.

WARNING(S): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of pregnancy, 

WORD COUNT: 1,655

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it love! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

PART 2: HAPPY ENDING / SAD ENDING

Fear struck every part of your body as you ran for your life. The old shrine of Ghostface trinkets and souvenirs like knives and wardrobes mocked you as you ran by the mannequins and display cases. You wouldn’t have imagined you’d be right where you were on this unlucky day. What should have been a fresh start after being almost butchered by Amber and Sam’s boyfriend Richie, well you didn’t expect to fight for your life once again, especially while at college.

You wanted a new year, a chance to leave all that was, behind you and move forward with your head held high. You wanted to fall in love…which you had. Now even that was ruined as you ran from the one person you let in. Someone you let love and cherish you in any way possible. Let him put you back together only to break you in pieces all over again. It just didn’t seem fair.

You yell out, panicking as you felt him grab you. You squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, kicking your feet out in the air as he lifted you up slightly then slammed you harshly on the ground. You gasp for air as you grow winded from the impact your back endured. You shake your head as the man you once knew became a stranger to you in mere seconds. You were scared as he stares down at you with a crazed look.

“No!” You scream as you push against his chest. “Ethan no, please!” You rasp out. Tears blind sight you, causing your vision to be blurry.

He smirks lifting a knife above you. “Remember this?” He asks. “My dad got a hold of your file you know. I knew the second I read about you that I wanted to get to know you.” He reached down and brushed some stray hairs away from your hot and sweaty forehead. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. “You were stabbed right here…” He lifts the hem of your shirt, tapping against the scar you received. “With a blade, three times might I add. God the picture they took looked nasty, but boy am I a sucker for recreations.” He chuckles darkly. “What’s three more times huh?” He goes to move the knife closer to your side.

You start to panic again as he moves his right arm to the side, getting ready to drive it past your first layer of skin. You cry holding your hands out, hoping that would be enough to stop him from hurting you physically. You were emotionally damaged by this point. “Ethan stop! Stop, stop! Stop!”

“This is for Richie, for your bitch of friend Sam for killing him! For ruining our lives!” He exclaims harshly at you. You wince, then immediately blurt out the one thing you have been excited to tell him, yet scared to do. Now it just made this whole situation worse.

“Ethan-“ You cry out.

“I should have killed you-“

“I’m pregnant!” You yell out. Your head thumping back against the hard floor. Your hands gravitate towards your stomach holding it protectively. Your face was scrunched with how hard you cried. It hurt, everything just hurt. Ethan's hands freeze in midair. Dumbfounded by your confession. “Stop, stop, stop. I-I’m pregnant!”

“You’re fucking lying!” He accuses you.

“I-I’m not…I’m not I promise!” You shake your head. “Please! Please I’m pregnant!” One hand remains on your stomach while your left hand tiredly falls limp to your side. You relax back onto the floor, waiting for the inevitable to come. Waiting to meet your end at the hands of the man you grew to love with your whole heart.

“Look at me,” Ethan instructs you to do. Your eyes open up slowly. The life drained from them as you stare up at him. The fight in you was gone. You didn’t wanna keep doing this anymore. “No, I–“ He shakes his head. He can’t wrap his head around it. His brows burrow in confusion. “Y-You’re lying!” He tears up.

“I promise you…” Another tear slips down your cheek. “I promise. I wanted to tell you…but everything turned to shit. I didn’t think you’d be one of them…” You sniffle. “It was a little over two weeks before we attended the Halloween party. You took us to your dorm.” You watch his face relax as he remembers. “I-I didn’t get my period at the time of the party when I should have…so I took a test. Three actually. All positive….” You begin to whimper as you look at the knife he’s lost his grip on. “You can go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want, I won’t be mad at you.” You offer a sad smile. “But I would’ve really liked the idea of us raising a kid together. I wanted a future you with you. I still do surprisingly.” You nod sure of yourself. “I-I won’t be mad. I’m at peace with my thoughts of you Ethan.” Ethan watched as your right hand slid down to your side this time. “M-My life rests in your hands now…”

The faint scream of the rest of the party echoed throughout the theater. He lifts his head looks around then drags you up into a sitting position with him.

“I’m gonna hide you.” He says more to himself than you as he helps you to your feet. It doesn’t take him long until he’s dragging you past the display cases. Pushing past the large screen protector sheet. You stumble over your feet trying to keep up with his pace.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” You ask him. Your head falls past your shoulder to glance behind you. You look forward again and collide into his back, you huff then feel yourself being dragged into a dark supply closet.

“Hiding you!” Ethan shuts the door behind you. The two of you are enveloped by darkness. The only light coming from the bottom of the door. Your breath hitches as a shadow moves past the door. You remain still as Ethan slowly reaches out for you. You still have your fingers looking around his own as you shift closer to each other.

You swallow your salvia down nervously as his hands shift up your arms to hold the sides of your face. Your breath shudders feeling him caress your skin slowly with his thumbs. You close your eyes as you lean into his touch. You open them back up, seeing a very faint outline of his face but the room was too dark, and turning on the light would be too risky. You had to rely on your sense of touch for now.

“Stay…” You quietly plead. “Just stay. Don’t go back out there.” You slide your hands up his arms now.

“I can’t…My dad, Quinn, they’ll know somethings up.” Ethan shakes his head even though you can’t see him do so. He leans forward and presses his head against yours. “I need you to stay in here okay? Don’t come out no matter what.”

“No–“ You begin to reject the idea.

“You need to stay.”

“No, you need to stay. Just stay.” You do your best to muffle your cries. “I have this feeling. I just feel it, okay! Once you step out the door, you won’t come back. I need you! Don’t leave me!” You breathe out harshly. “Please…” You whimper as he presses his lips to yours. You instantly move yours against his. Wanting to savor the touch of him, the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the way his hands held you with such care. You wanted it all to last, but when did anything good in your life ever truly last? The harsh reality was that it didn’t. Everything was always too good to be true. “Ethan no…” You pull away, crying out quietly. You wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his head down to touch yours.

“I’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t.” You try to control your heavy breathing.

“I will. You wanna know how I know I will.” You nod an answer. “Cause you given me something to want to stay alive for.” You feel his hands slide over your stomach. “I’m gonna be right back.” He whispers sweetly to you.

“They’re gonna kill you.” You voice your thoughts.

“Not unless I help Sam kill my dad.”

“She’ll still kill you. You stabbed Chad.” You remind him.

“Not anywhere serious. I didn’t hit any arteries or veins. He’s gonna be fine.” He brushed the thought off.

“You– You knew where to stab him?” Your voice goes quiet but sounds incredulous.

“I knew how to make you unconscious at the apartment…S’not important.” He winces, regretting opening his mouth.

“What the fuck Ethan!” You slap him over his shoulder. Your heart weighed down heavily. “God Anika…She didn’t deserve-“ You choke up, cutting yourself off. “What the fuck Ethan.”

“Nothing will fix what I’ve done okay? But I can make things right by saving them. It’s the least I can do now.” He sighs. “Just stay here. Do not come out!” He says firmly.

“If you don’t come back I’m gonna kill you…” Your empty threat makes him chuckle solemnly.

“See you in a bit okay.”

“Ethan.” Your voice trembles.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” He leans in after feeling for your cheek again with his hands and leaves a kiss on your skin sweetly. He slowly opens the door. The faint light entered through, casting a yellow highlight on his face. You catch his warm eyes for a second. He drinks in all the little details and characteristics that make you who you are. That makes him love you wholeheartedly. “I love you.” He offers a sad smile then slips past the open gap. The soft click of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot to the chest. You just knew. You knew…he wouldn’t be coming back.

[dionysism]

ohhh i am really thinking about penelope and grief. 20 years of it.

10 spent knowing your love is fighting at war and may die at any moment, every sunrise and sunset spent wondering if you're staring at the same sun right now or if he's already gone. and then the war ends, but not for you. it might as well have never ended, because now new grief sets in.

now you wait for him to come home, but he doesn't. and you slowly but surely hear about other great men making it home, and their tales of victory, and maybe you even hear about your husbands great trojan horse, how it won it for them, but you do not hear anything else about him. you listen very closely to the names of fallen greeks at troy, still, you do not hear about him. you wait another year, two turns to three, to four. nothing. no news, no closure at all.

you can't help but spin the worst possible tales in your mind, night after night. is he dead? ship shattered against the rocks in some storm? has he drowned? did he stop somewhere for supplies and get ambushed? cut down? could his men have betrayed him? did he anger some god and bring about his own doom? is there a chance, at all, that he's still out there? will you ever see him again?

and your son. your beautiful son who you love, who gets older every year, who can only know his father through the fragments of memory you can pass down to him, but it's not the same, not enough. and hero as he may be, what you would prefer is a husband. a father to your son. and his great deeds are somewhat lost now anyway, as he is. you cannot put a man to rest when his fate remains unknown— if he had fallen at troy, or made it home only to succumb to some wound or illness, at least you would know. at least then you could find some small amount of solace in him leaving a name and legacy for your son to inherit, some closure for you, but all you have is wind and words. and telemachus is starting to look like him, and you begin to dread him getting any older, as you remember you promised your husband you would remarry when he comes of age. another joy soured by grief, most women delight in seeing the men their sons grow up to be, but it only marks doom for you. sometimes you tell him to shave. just a little longer. he may still come back. you have to believe he will come back.

then the suitors decend like vultures, eating you out of house and home and every one of their faces is a reminder that he is not here, that he has not been here for a long time now. that you might never see his face again. you remember him perfectly, still, after all these years. can still see clear as day the image of him in your mind the day he set off in his ship, remember to the last detail the clothes you sent him off with. you can't imagine a life with any of these men, nor any other man on earth, but it becomes more clear to you everyday the gods must not care what you want. oh, how you both must be cursed by them, to be served such a fate! but you are not completely without hope, not yet. and so you stall, for as long as you possibly can, with your clever weaving scheme. and for awhile, this is something. you almost allow yourself to smile at the thought of how he would love a scheme like this, thinking about all the tricks and strategies he must have employed at troy, how you would have liked to have heard about them. ("well, here's what i would have done," you would sometimes tell him when he would recount old stories from his past to you. "penelope, you're brilliant! i should take you everywhere i go" he would usually say, and, you really wish he would have.) but he has gone somewhere far away now, somewhere you cannot follow, or even know about, and you are left with more grief than you know how to carry.

at some point, he's gone longer than you were married to him. eventually, he's gone longer than you knew him at all. it may seem silly then, to be so grief-stricken still, to love him so hopelessly, still. but you are only human, so you are, and you do. you've been betrayed and your scheme exposed, there's no denying your son has become a man, and the inevitable can be put off no longer. you falter constantly between a relentless despair that he will never come home, and fickle hope you are just a few more days from seeing his ship on the horizon. still, your nights are spent mostly weeping.

then this strange beggar comes to your house. he tells you he's heard about your husband, tells you he's coming home! and you want to believe it, desperately, more than anything, you want to believe it. but it sounds too good to be true. and yet, faintly, this strange man kind of reminds you of your husband. something about him you can't quite place. maybe you're just going mad, looking for him in everything, finding him where he's not there. but maybe...

and so here is your last stand, your last shred of hope, one final scheme. you'll marry, but first, a contest. a bow, that only your husband can string, an arrow shot through 12 axeheads. a contest conveniently leaving the winner the only armed man in the room. and if not what you ultimately hope, maybe, at least, you can watch these idiots sputter and fail.

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

For the second year in a row, Rainy Day has rented out the Casbah Gallery for their Winter party. When I arrive, most people are taking the time to walk through the exhibits, but art galleries have never really been my thing, and neither have large groups of people, so I bypass them both and walk up the stairs to the second floor where the party itself will take place.

“Atlas!” I hear the familiar voice of my sister call out from behind me just as I’m about to walk inside. I glance over my shoulder to see her and Phoenix climbing the stairs and pause to hold the door for them.

“Good timing,” I say as they walk through. They’ve both dressed up for the occasion, Dawn in a black dress filled with vibrant flowers and a leather jacket with matching red lips and nails. She must have really been excited to get out tonight, she rarely goes to those lengths. Clearly, she even talked Phoenix into putting on a suit jacket, which I imagine wasn’t easy.

They walk in practically hanging on each other, and I wonder if this is what I’ll be subjected to the whole night. Not that I’m not happy for her, but the idea was supposed to be to get them out of their isolated bubble for a little while.

With most people downstairs, the room is nearly empty, which is just fine by me, but we spot Kiyoshi at a table alone, so we join him and say hello.

When the two of them finally break apart so Phoenix can talk with Kiyoshi and make plans for the following weekend, Dawn scoots over and tugs at the sleeve of my cardigan. When I look over at her she flicks her eyes toward the bar, indicating she wants to step away for a moment. She’s being weirdly sneaky about it, which makes me curious, so I nod and turn to the others, “I’m going to grab a drink while there’s no line at the bar, does anyone want anything?”

“I’ll come with you,” Dawn offers quickly, pulling me away while Phoenix and Kiyoshi give me their drink orders.

“What’s going on with you?” I ask her once we make it to the bar.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. What is it?”

She glances over toward Phoenix and then back at me with a smile, “Phoenix asked me to move in with him.”

“Oh my god, Dawn. That’s fast. Are you ready for that?”

“I know, but it wouldn’t be right away. We’d have to get a new place, and his lease isn’t up for a few months. He just asked me to think about it.”

“Okay, so what do you think?”

“Well, I don’t want to leave you in a bad spot. Our rent isn’t cheap, and you already pay more than your share.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I can cover it until the lease is up and then downsize. I’ll be fine. But is this what you want?”

She chews at the inside of her lip nervously as she nods. “Yeah. It is.” The way her smile stretches across her face when she says this tells me everything I need to know.

“Then that’s what you should do.”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay,” she exhales a laugh, “Okay! Ah, anyway, how are you?”

“Fine,” I shrug, “Same old.”

As we pick up our drinks and start walking back to the table she asks, “How are things with Asher?”

“Um, yeah, he’s good. Why?”

“Just curious. Is he coming tonight?”

“Yeah, he’s your boyfriend’s date, remember? I assumed that’s why he’s all dressed up.”

She laughs at that, “No, that was my failed attempt to get him to wear something besides jeans or gym shorts.

“You should’ve known better.” Not that I’m one to talk. I couldn’t even be bothered to wear jeans that don’t have holes in them. “But, yeah, Ash and Lex should be here soon. For all I know, they might just be downstairs with everyone else.” As if on cue, a group of people come up the stairs then to get things started.

Someone starts playing music through the speaker overhead while others gather at the bar. I’m only halfway through my beer before we’re surrounded and I start having trouble focusing on the conversation at our own table as those behind me grow louder.

In the far corner, there’s a small room with a sofa that I remember from last year. It’s tucked away and quiet. With the crowd of people increasing by the minute, I have the sudden urge to escape and claim the room before anyone else can. Thankfully, Dawn knows me well enough that I don’t have to say much, nor do I have to hide behind any excuses. I lean over to her and say quietly, “I’m gonna go hide.”

“Okay, I’ll be here,” she says with a smile, and pats my arm as I step away.

I slip into the room, happy to see that it’s empty, and pick a spot in the center of the large black sectional sofa. It’s surprisingly more comfortable than it looks. The wall across from me is lined with large mirrors, and for a moment I stare into it, at myself, at the painting that’s hung on the wall above my head. I like it. I like the splashes of gold among the otherwise muted tones of red and purple and teal. The teal reminds me of Ash, and I wonder if he’s here yet, wonder if he’ll come sit with me or if he’ll prefer to enjoy the party, chatting with Lex and Evan and his other friends. I imagine he’s the type that gets stopped frequently when walking into a party, people wanting to say hello and have a drink and share a laugh. And he’s the type that’s always happy to do so. He greets people with an enthusiastic smile and remembers small details about them, making sure to ask about a family member or pet or an update on a project they’re working on or about the latest episode of a show they like. It’s a quality I admire in him. And one I definitely lack.

“How’d I know I’d find you here?” I smile at the sound of his voice and look over to see him standing there, having dressed up his usual jeans and t-shirt with a cardigan and suspenders. He’s leaning forward, loose and relaxed, propped against the doorway with a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. Something about it feels incredibly familiar.

“You know me too well," I say, my eyes following him as he steps forward into the room, walks over and plops himself down next to me, slouching down low onto the sofa. And there it is again. The feeling that we’ve done this before.

“What’s with the face? You okay?”

“Yeah,” I shake my head as the feeling fades, “I just got déjà vu.”

“Really? What triggered it?”

“You. Just standing in the doorway like that, and then walking over here”.

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

“No, what?”

“You basically had seizure.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s like a misfire in the memory center of the brain. I once read this article about someone with a particular seizure disorder that gave him déjà vu regularly. And then, for like, the next year, I’d panic any time it happened to me even though the article gave assurances that it’s quite normal to experience it every once in a while.”

I chuckle softly, “You have a story for everything, don’t you?”

He shrugs, “Not everything, but yes,” and then he leans toward me, “I like this cardigan, by the way. It looks good on you.”

I smile at him, “Yeah, I’m diggin’ the suspenders.” And, once again, as I reach over and hook my finger around one of them, pulling it taut and then releasing it so it can snap back into place, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m reliving a moment that’s already happened.

“Thank you,” he winks at me, which somehow still causes my cheeks burn, and we laugh as I turn my face to hide it.

“Anyway,” I take an exaggerated breath as I look back at him, “how’s the party?”

He shrugs, “It’s okay. I saw Dawn on the way in. Got to meet your future brother-in-law.”

I roll my eyes, though he’s probably not wrong at the rate they’re going, “Yeah, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. So, what’d you think? Is he an asshole?”

“Nah, he seems okay. He’s going climbing with you guys, right?”

“Yep.”

“Are you getting nervous?”

“No, honestly it doesn’t really feel real yet.”

“When do you go?”

“Not until Spring. April, I think.”

He sits up then, getting animated, yet his eyes look more concerned than excited, “Are you sure it’s a good idea? I mean, it’s dangerous up there, isn’t it?”

I have to admit, it’s kind of sweet that he’s worried, but he really doesn’t need to be. “Well, yeah, of course, but that’s why we’ve taken a year to prepare.”

“I guess. But it’s one thing to be a strong climber. I don’t know, I just can’t picture you as the outdoorsy type, out there surviving the elements and all that.

“That’s probably because you’ve only ever seen me behind a desk in the city. But being in scouts I spent a lot of time in the wilderness growing up.”

“Oh my god, you were a scout?” He seems absolutely delighted by this information which makes me laugh. Nearly all of us were in scouts when I was a kid. It was more strange if you weren’t.

“Yeah, I earned every badge, and I was very proud of it. But we went on camping trips all the time. And when I was fourteen, I went on a survival trip where they basically drop you in the middle of nowhere with minimal supplies and leave you to it for a few days.”

“I’m not gonna lie, that sounds awful.”

“No, it was fun!”

“Fun?! Jesus Christ,” he shakes his head and then looks up at me with a smirk, letting his arm come to rest behind my shoulders, “You never stop surprising me, y’know.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah,” he says, locking his eyes on mine, “It’s a very good thing.” The way he says this, the sudden intensity in his voice and in his eyes, causes the energy between us to shift and I’m suddenly very aware of how close we are, of the way he's leaning into me, of his knee resting against my leg.

If this were a movie, I’d probably kiss him right now. I want to. But the last thing I need to do is complicate or confuse things further.

I clear my throat and lean back slightly. When I do, he catches himself, pulling his arm back and tucking it around his waist as if to keep it secured. “Y’know,” I say, preferring to keep the conversation going rather than acknowledging the obvious, “the way you draw plants and animals, with so much care and detail, I would’ve expected you to be a little more outdoorsy.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I definitely enjoy being outside, going for a hike or spending a day on the beach or in a field or something. It’s relaxing to be out in nature with my dog and my sketchpad. But camping for days out in the woods is a bit much for me.”

“Well, you should come with us next weekend, to Mt. Komorebi. Phoenix wants to go snowboarding, so we’re all just going to hang out up there for the day. And then probably stick around for the Festival of Snow. They make these huge sculptures and light them up, it’s really cool. But it’d be a good opportunity to get out of the city, hang out together outside, away from the computer.”

“Okay, yeah that sounds fun.”

“It will be, I promise.”

“In the meantime, are we still working on our game tomorrow?”

“Yep, planning on it. You can come over whenever.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Well, I’m going to get a drink; do you want one?”

“Sure.”

When he leaves the room, I turn to look out the large floor-to-ceiling windows, frosted at the edges from the cold. It’s begun snowing lightly, the first snowfall of the season, and the city is already covered in a thin layer of sparkling white.

Normally, I can barely endure events like this, and would’ve left by now, but I’m actually enjoying myself tonight, thanks to Ash.

I can’t stop thinking about what he said last weekend. I’ve been repeating his question in my head over and over, “Why are we doing this? Why are we pretending we’re just friends when, clearly, we both want more?” And the truth is, I don’t even know. I think I’m just doing what I’ve always done. Avoiding. Isolating. Pretending. But it’s exhausting, and I don’t want to do it anymore.

He walks back into the room, drinks in hand, with Lex at his side, and I decide to put a pin those thoughts for now. To relax and enjoy the night. But I look forward to spending the day with him tomorrow, and I hope I might get the courage then to tell him how I feel.

Prev // Deja vu // Next

[fandom-imagines-stories]

You Can Talk to Me

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 5730

Summary: A night of drinks becomes something else when the reader reveals what’s been bothering her the past week. Matt tries to not be blinded by his feelings for his best friend as he comforts her, but this heartbreak may be just what she needs to see what’s right in front of her. 

Notes: Yet another Matt comfort imagine, surprise surprise. I guess the thing about heartbreak, is it gives you plenty to write about. I don’t really have much else for this one, other than I’m just writing whatever I need right now. And fuck it, if that means combining smut with a comfort imagine, so be it. This is a lot, but I loved every minute of writing it. 

Warnings: Angst, 18+ SMUT (choking, oral, unprotected, the works)

More Matt Imagines Here

-

Karen checked her watch again, head peeking over the growing crowd at Josie’s to try and spot the fourth member of their get-together. 

“She’s never late,” Karen said, frowning. She turned to the two men waiting with her. “Maybe I should call again.”

Matt listened. Old rock hits played over the speakers and a group of men bickered by the pool table, but past the buzz of the neon and slight muffling through the window pane, he heard it. Quick, shallow breaths and a hurried heartbeat paired with the sharpness of salt in the air. 

Matt stiffened. 

You were crying. 

He heard as you took a few deep breaths and hastily wiped your cheeks. 

You pushed open the door to the bar with a strained smile and searching eyes. 

“She’s here,” Matt said, his tone turned solemn.

What happened? 

Foggy beamed, spotting you by the entrance. “How does he do that?”

Matt’s head tilted, analyzing your movements as you made your way through the crowd. Karen and Foggy were still looking for a table, but he could practically feel the effort it took to keep up your sunny demeanor. 

“Sorry I’m late,” you said, finally reaching them. “I got an unexpected call from work.” 

Your heart skipped. 

Matt’s worry deepened. 

You’d never lied to them before. 

Karen waved it off. “Well, you’re here now.”

“Let the party commence!” Foggy cheered. 

Matt gave you a small smile. You did your best to return it. The other two left to get more drinks. 

“Work, huh?” Matt prompted. 

Your heart skipped again. “Yeah, they just needed to run something by me. No big deal.” 

“Right.”

You noticed the twitch in his smile, the gentleness in his tone. You should have known he’d be able to tell something was wrong. He always did. It didn’t help that you’d been avoiding your friends these past two weeks. Especially Matt- because you knew this would happen. Somehow, he just saw you. 

“How are the cases coming?” You asked, hoping to get the attention off of you. “You guys just won the worker’s comp case you’d been working so hard on right?”

Matt’s smile returned. “Yeah, we did.” He motioned in the direction of his partner. “Foggy’s closing statement really sealed it for us. You would have loved it.”

“Well, I unfortunately had a civil case across the hall.” You flexed your hands. “God, they talked so much I thought my fingers would fall off.”

The two of you chuckled.

“You should take some of that vacation time you talked about.” He cleared his throat, shifting almost uncomfortably. “Maybe go somewhere with Sam.” 

You stiffened and glanced down at the table. “Yeah, Matt, about that-”

“Your elixir of drunkenness, milady.” Foggy set your bourbon down with a flourish. 

You laughed, grateful for the interruption. “Why thank you, sir.”

Matt sighed lightly and sipped his beer, gripping the bottle a little tighter. 

What the hell did Sam do?

You took a long, slow drink and let the burn wash away any other feeling. It worked… if only a little bit.

Karen led you all to a booth she’d picked out towards the back of the bar. 

“So,” she said, taking the seat beside Foggy, sticking you beside the human lie detector. “What have you been up to? It seems like it’s been forever since we’ve actually seen you.”

You gulped and slid into the booth, Matt following after you. You almost stammered when his knee bumped against yours.

“Um, it’s been okay.”

Matt raised a brow at your hesitation, nudging you again. It wasn’t like you to hide things. Not from him. 

You took a deep breath and ripped off the bandaid. “Sam and I broke up.”

Foggy’s eyes widened, Karen’s softened, and Matt took another drink. 

“I’m okay though,” you quickly followed up. 

Lie.

“I’m sorry,” Foggy said. He paused, then perked up. “Do you want another drink?”

“Foggy,” Karen scolded.

“What? Break-ups are the perfect reason to get wasted!”

You snickered and downed the rest of your whiskey. “I wouldn’t say no to another round.” 

Foggy turned to the others. 

Matt shrugged, still listening intently to your uneven breathing. “I’ll have what she’s having.” 

Karen leaned, reaching a comforting hand toward yours. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

“No, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “We’re celebrating you guys tonight.” You took the drink Foggy handed you and raised your glass. “To Nelson and Murdock.” 

Matt clinked his whiskey to yours. “And to being there for friends,” he added pointedly. 

“Here here,” Karen cheered before you could shoot him a glare.

The next hour was filled with drinks and laughter. It helped you feel a little more like yourself- something you’d been trying to do for weeks. Every time Foggy made a joke or Matt “accidentally” brushed against your arm, the hole in your chest felt a little smaller. 

And then you saw him.

Matt heard his voice first. His tense shoulders were why you looked up. 

Sam had his arm around a pretty girl with dark hair. You’d seen her at his office before. His head turned, eyes meeting yours. 

It was like you weren’t there. 

Sam waved at Foggy and went to the other side of the bar, as far away from you as possible. 

“That’s just cold,” Foggy said, shaking his head. 

You finished your third drink. If you had anymore here you’d start crying and you were not going to let that happen. Not in front of all of them. Not til you were home. If Sam could not care, so could you. 

“Do you want to leave?” Matt asked softly. 

You swallowed back the panic attack rising in your throat. “No. We should finish our drinks.”

“Do you want another?” Karen offered. 

“I’ll just get water to end the night, thanks.” 

Matt knew what that meant. You’d finish the night at home, by yourself, drinking until you fell asleep numb. A coping mechanism you had only ever confided in him about. It was easier for you to face everything alone, or at least you convinced yourself it was. He could relate to that.

You couldn’t stop your gaze from shifting toward the couple across the bar, no matter how hard you tried. You watched Sam’s eyes glisten every time he looked at her. He laughed loud enough for the sound to reach over the crowd. 

God, you felt so stupid. 

Matt couldn’t do it anymore. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense the way just sitting there was eating at you, the idea of you hurting was enough to break him. 

“Hey, I’ve got some leftover enchiladas from the Galindo case,” he said, leaving closer to you so his breath was against your ear. “Want to help me get through them?” Before you could make an excuse, he finished with. “They’ll go bad if you don’t. You know how often I forget dinner.” He playful bumped his shoulder into yours. 

You rolled your eyes. “And I keep telling you that one of these days you’ll keel over and I won’t run to help you.” 

“Yes you would,” he teased. “You like me too much.”

“Maybe,” you laughed. 

He could always do that. And the idea of going home alone…

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” You held up a finger, “but only if I can go through your record collection.”

Matt grinned. “Deal.”

Karen saw your gaze flit back to where it was before and leaned to whisper to you. 

“I know this isn’t much help now,” she said, “but you’re better off without him.” 

“Yeah, I never liked the smug sonofabitch anyway,” Foggy added a little too loudly.

“Shhhh,” you and Karen both hissed. 

You thought you saw Sam glance over and ducked to hide your face in Matt’s shoulder. 

Karen looked between the two of you, but kept her comments to herself, though her smile grew. 

Matt chuckled and took your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb in a way that said ‘it’s gonna be okay.’

-

Foggy and Karen got a cab but both you and Matt felt okay enough to walk back to his apartment in the warm New York spring air. There was still a bite in the breeze, lingering from winter. Only wearing a nice tee, you shivered. 

“Are you cold?” Matt asked, already taking off his suit jacket. He put it around your shoulders without you even having to ask. 

Karen shot you a smirk. 

You mouthed ‘Seriously?’

She snickered and closed the cab door. 

You quickly turned to Matt, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks- not knowing he could sense it, of course. “Ready?”

Matt smiled and held out his arm. “Lead the way.” 

His easy demeanor helped to calm you a little and when his arm hooked through yours, it felt like he was the one guiding you. Maybe he was, in a way.

“It’s really nice tonight,” you said, trying- and failing- not to sound awkward. 

“Are you talking to me about the weather?” Matt teased. 

Your face reddened even more. “Leave me alone, I’m-” you searched for a word, flustered. “Fragile.” 

He snickered. “Fragile, huh?”

“Yes,” you nudged his side with your elbow. “Fragile. Which means you have to be nice to me.” 

“I’m being very nice,” he said in mock offense. “I’m feeding you Seniora Galindo’s enchiladas and letting you rummage through my records. I’d say I am your knight in shining red glass this evening.” He poked you right back.

“You have certainly been chivalrous,” you smiled and fell into silence, the weight on your chest sucking the energy out of you. 

This was how it had been. One moment, you were okay, and the next…

It was like you only had two true modes of being. 

Angry.

Or empty.

There was much in between. It was getting harder and harder to remember that any of it had been good to begin with. 

The way his eyes just slide past you at the bar. 

The way he practically ignored you in the conversations at work.

The way he wouldn’t even talk to you about what happened. 

Like you weren’t there.

Like you were nothing. 

The word hit you. It struck you in the chest like someone had put their hands around your ribs and pushed. 

But you kept walking.

Matt sensed the shift- the hitch in your breath and the hesitation in your step. He wanted to stop you right there and pull you into his secure embrace to block out the thoughts that plagued you. The hurt. He wished he could stop it. 

But he waited. 

You were grateful for the jacket wrapped tightly around you because the night had turned colder by the time the two of you reached Matt’s apartment building. Still pushing down that dark empty ache, you climbed the stairs with your eyes trained on the ground. 

Matt opened the door, ushering you in with a gentle hand on the small of your back. 

The touch made you flinch, not because it was uncomfortable, but because the gesture brought out more feeling than you were prepared for. Every nerve was set on edge. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, seeing Matt pull away. 

He shook his head, still giving you that small smile. “You don’t have to apologize.”

He let you go first into the living room, where you took a seat close to the window. Staring out at the bright, shifting lights of the billboard, you breathed out for what felt like the first time since you saw Sam in the bar.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” you mused. You felt Matt take a seat, the cushions shifting beside you. His arm grazed your back as he draped it over the back of the couch. 

“Y/N,” he started softly.

You blinked back tears, a pleading in your voice. “Matt…” 

“Hey, it’s okay.�� He put a finger under your chin and gently turned your face toward him. “I know you’re holding something back. Why?” There was a desperation in his voice, a need to do something- anything to make it better. 

“I can’t.” You still tried to fight against the emotions trying to choke you. 

Maybe Sam had the right idea when he stopped speaking to you altogether. And you still didn’t know why. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Matt whispered, moving closer to you. “You can talk to me.” 

Those five words were all it took. Two weeks of being blamed and ignored and confused and devastated hit you all at once.

Matt felt the break before the first tear fell. He felt your lips tremble, still trying to hold back the words that were tearing you apart. It shattered him. Matt wrapped his arms around you and this time you didn’t flinch away. 

You crashed against him like the waves inside your chest. 

“Tell me what’s been going on, sweetheart,” Matt urged, his tone as sweet as the endearment he called you. “Just talk to me.”

“He won't-” You sucked back a sob. “He won’t talk to me. I thought, when he broke up with me, that things were okay between us. That we could be friends like we were before. But now, he won’t even look at me.”

Matt thought about Sam’s quickly shuffling feet, his spiked heartbeat when he saw them there. Like he couldn’t get away fast enough. But why? The last time Matt had been around the two of you, Sam seemed fine. Matt didn’t particularly like the guy but he made you happy. Or he used to, anyway.

“It’s not like I thought Sam was ‘the one’ or anything,” you said, calming yourself down. “But I thought these past two months at least meant something. He’s acting like they didn’t even happen.” You wrapped your arms around your legs, tucking yourself into the corner of the couch. “And I feel like an idiot because we weren’t together for long but… I guess he’d become one of my best friends and now it’s like I’m not… anything, anymore.” 

Your last statement struck Matt, but he didn’t push it. Not yet. 

“And he hasn’t told you why? He just-” Matt sighed. “Disappeared on you?”

More like he made you disappear. 

You curled up more. 

“And there’s nothing I can do about it.” There was no hiding the defeat in your tone. You wiped a stray tear. “I just wanted something to work out for once.” How many times could your heart break again and again and again before it gave up?

Matt kept an arm around your shoulders. He moved closer so you could lay your head on his shoulder and blew out a breath. “I know.”

His soft touch set you off again. Your cries were quiet, your tears slow. You didn’t have the energy to sob. 

Matt tucked you in his arms, waiting. It wasn’t his place to push, not when everything was so raw. Not when part of him wished he could kiss your tears away. 

He’d always wondered if his dislike of Sam came out of jealousy. Matt felt he had waited too long and he lost his chance when Sam came along. 

He felt horrible, thinking about that now, but it lingered nonetheless. 

“Thank you,” you sniffed, sitting up again. “I really didn’t want to go home alone again.”

You’d counted every crack in your ceiling three times already.

“You can come over whenever you need to, okay?” Matt smiled. “You liven up the place.”

You snorted. 

“I’m serious,” he said. Matt leaned over and kissed your forehead. “You warm every room you’re in.”

You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but when your lips brushed against his- just for a moment- Matt pulled away.

“Wait,” he said. The kiss barely lasted a second, but he sounded breathless. His smile almost seemed nervous. “You haven’t picked a record yet.” 

You swallowed hard. “O-okay.”

While you walked to his crate records, Matt tried to force his heartbeat to slow down. Just the brief touch had his head spinning. But you were vulnerable and hurting. He couldn’t bear the idea of taking advantage of that. To keep himself busy, he got up to go to the kitchen, getting you a glass of water.

You picked a soft 90s alt album and put the needle on. Quiet drums filled the space but did little to silence your mind. You went back to the couch but didn’t sit down. You took the water but didn’t drink. 

Neither of you said anything for a while. 

Finally, the guilty part of you took over.

“Sam’s going through a lot,” you reasoned. “Between his caseload and things going on with his family…” God, maybe you were being the selfish one here. 

Matt held onto the back of the couch, unfocused eyes trained on the carpet. “That doesn’t mean he gets to treat you like this.”

You turned away. “I know.”

Matt let go of the leather and walked to you. “You deserve better than this, Y/N.” 

“I know.” Your heart faltered again. Another lie. 

Despite the voice in his head telling him to stop, Matt put a hand on your arm, fingers squeezing gently to get you to face him. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

You found yourself leaning into his touch again. At least it made you feel something again. When you spoke, it was almost too quiet. If it hadn’t been Matt, he might not have heard you.

“I’ve never had someone make me feel like I was…” The words cracked inside you. “Like I’m nothing the way he has.”

Matt’s heart broke completely. 

How could anyone make you think that? How could anyone not see how incredible and important and- he couldn’t even think of enough words to capture the growing need in his chest. A need to not have you feel this way anymore. 

“Y/N, no,” he said, taking your face in his hands. “You aren’t nothing. You mean so much to so many people. To Foggy and Karen. To me-” he took a deep breath. “Y/N, you’re everything.”

Suddenly you weren’t thinking of Sam or the girl he was with. You weren’t thinking about your emptiness or your anger. All that mattered, all you felt… was him.

“Matt,” you breathed him in, shaking with your next request. “Please.”

Matt’s lips ghosted yours. He was standing so close you thought you could hear his heartbeat. 

“Are you sure?” If you said no, he would step back and you would never have to worry about him not speaking to you. He could never leave you like that, no matter how he felt. But if you said yes-

“I need you, Matt,” you whimpered. You didn’t know how true it was until you said it. 

Until he closed the space between you, capturing any other words with his lips. 

Matt wished his kiss alone could show you how much you meant. He tried to convey every feeling with the movement of his lips, the sweep of his tongue, his hand moving to cup the back of your head. 

A soft moan escaped your throat as his tongue explored your mouth. You tilted your head back, giving him better access. 

The sound ignited through Matt. He held you tighter, hands falling to grip your waist while his mouth moved to your ear. 

“You’re everything,” he repeated, breath on your skin. 

You moaned again, fingers gripping his button down, pulling him back toward the couch. 

Matt’s hold tightened, keeping you in place. He chuckled and shook his head. “If we’re doing this.” He lifted you up in his arms. 

You yelped. 

He wrapped your legs around his waist. “We’re going to do it right.”

He carried you steadily to his room and laid you down on silk sheets. Matt hovered over you for a moment, letting his senses take everything in. 

Impatient, you tugged on his hair.

Again, he just chuckled, using one hand to grab your wrists and hold them over your head.

You raised a brow. This was a side of the snarky lawyer you hadn’t entirely expected. Not that you were complaining. 

“I need you to do something for me,” he said, a smug smile spreading across his face. There was the Matt you knew. “I need you to be patient.” He kissed along the collar of your shirt. “And let me make you feel good.”

“That’s two things,” you teased. 

He nipped at your collarbone hard enough to make you gasp.

“O-okay, Matt.” 

“Good girl,” he said lowly. From how your body responded, he kept that in mind for later.

Matt pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons.

You admired the curves of his torso, leading downward to the waistband of his pants and what lay beneath.

“Matt,” you said, a slight whine in your voice. 

He smirked. 

Bastard.

You pulled those smug lips back to yours, kissing him with just a smidge of defiance. 

Matt’s hand made its way to your throat, squeezing just enough to hold you down.

“Be. Patient.” He growled again with a deeper tone.

He removed your shirt and bra in two swift motions. Matt didn’t waste any time roaming his hands over your body, committing every touch to memory.

Your breathing hitched as his fingers each ran over your peaked nipples. Rough yet gentle hands massaged your breasts. Matt rubbed his thumbs over the sensitive buds again if only to hear that lovely little gasp again. 

He took a moment to remember how this all started. As one hand teased its way down your stomach, the other took hold of your chin. 

“You are not nothing,” Matt said firmly. His fingers dipped beneath the fabric, undoing the button of your jeans. “I want you to say it.”

You bit your lip and tried to turn away, but his hold wouldn’t let you.

Matt kissed your lips then trailed his way to your chest, listening to your heart. 

“Please?” He kissed the skin in the valley of your breasts.

You breathed out a sigh. “I am not nothing.” 

“I know you can do better than that.” Matt trailed his kisses over the slope of your skin so that his lips hovered over your nipple. “Come on, sweetheart. I need you to believe it.”

“I am not nothing,” you said a little more confidently despite the hitch in your words when the tips of his fingers grazed your clit.

Matt nodded before taking your nipple into his mouth. Your jeans and panties were quick to join the rest of your clothes on the floor and his fingers pressed down on your bundle of nerves. 

You had to bite back another whine. Between his teeth tugging on your nipple and his fingertips beginning agonizingly slow circles, you were already coming apart at the seams. Each swirl of his tongue matched the motions against your clit. It ignited every one of your senses, enveloping you in him. 

Matt sucked a little harsher, eliciting the moan you were holding back. 

And he reveled in it. 

While Matt switched his attention to your other tit, he accelerated his circles on your clit. 

“God, Matt.” You finally moved your hands from where he’d placed them above your head and tangled them in his hair. 

He could hear your heartbeat quickening, hear the unevenness in your breathing as he wound you tighter and tighter with just the tips of his fingers. 

“That’s it,” he cooed, replacing his nipping and sucking with soft licks and kisses across your chest. You knew you’d have several marks in the morning, which excited you even more. Matt rubbed harder and faster. “That’s it, baby.”

Your climax crashed into you before you could prepare. Your hands pulled on his hair, loud whining gasp escaping your lips. Matt caught the sound in a kiss, letting it vibrate through him perfectly. He kept up his flicking, figure-eight motions to help you ride out the high. 

You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth, draping your arms around his neck. Closer. You needed him closer.

And yet, he pulled away. Matt smiled at your whimper, laying one hand on your cheek and bringing the other to his lips, licking your glisten from his fingers. You turned your head, taking two of his fingers in your mouth, sucking sweetly. 

Matt felt something snap inside him. With a deep rumble from his chest, he moved to stand at the foot of the bed, yanking you down to the edge. 

You sat up, hands reaching for his belt. You needed him. 

Matt pushed you back on the bed quick enough that you bounced on the mattress.

“Not yet,” he smirked, laying an arm across you to hold you down. There was something different about his smile. Something devilish.

Then he knelt in front of you. 

Your head fell back against the silk sheets as he bit your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. He did this up and down your legs, all the while holding you to the bed to keep your hips from bucking and giving you more friction than he allowed. 

“Ma-ah-” You gasped as his tongue finally swept up the length of your core. 

Matt’s head swam with every detail his heightened senses were taking in. From the taste of you to the way his name fell from your lips fueled his movements. He closed his lips over your clit, spelling your name into the sensitive nerves with his tongue- then spelling his own. 

Your core pulsed around nothing, tightening the more wrecked you with his mouth. 

“Fuck, Matthew,” you moaned. 

Matt lapped at your center, completely taken by the overwhelming burning inside him that you stoked with your noises and your scent and your taste. 

You almost screamed with the coming of your second climax, even more intense than the first. The ache inside of you just got worse as you gushed, still empty and needy. 

Matt drank in everything you gave him, pushing you as far as you could go. 

As he crawled back up to you, your limbs trembling and your heart racing, he kissed you gently, letting you taste yourself on his lips. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, afraid he’d gotten carried away. 

“I need more,” you pleaded, gulping down breaths. “Please, Matty?”

He smiled that devilish smile again. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Matty.” You keened, hands trying to reach again for him, but he held you firmly. “I need you inside me.” You pouted your lips. “I need you to hold me.”

Matt kissed you again, this time softer, trailing down your neck as he backed away to take off the rest of his clothes. 

You got just a glimpse of him before he laid you on your side and it was enough to have you aching even more. 

He laid beside you, holding your back to his chest. 

“Okay, baby.” 

Matt pushed inside of you, arms locked around your middle. He bit down on your shoulder to contain his moan while your breathless cry rang through the room. 

“So good, sweetheart,” he murmured, bringing his hips back. “You feel so good.”

“Just for you, M-Matt.” You laid your head back in the crook of his neck. 

Matt snapped his hips back, plunging his cock deeper inside your pulsing walls. “Atta girl.” 

You rutted back against him, every movement inside of you bringing a whimper with each brush of his shaft against the blinding spot within. 

Matt held you as close to his body as possible, making it harder to tell where he ended and you began. He slipped a hand up to wrap around your throat, turning your face to kiss you. His tongue claimed your mouth while he continued to rock in and out of you. In and out. A perfect, steady rhythm that stayed deep inside your core while being just slow enough to keep you wanting more. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Matt whispered, saying your name like a sacred prayer. 

“God, Matty,” you said, feeling his hand around your throat. “Matt, I’m-” You were cut off by a loud moan when he hit that spot that made you see stars even harder than before. 

“I know,” Matt cooed. “I know you want to give me another one. I know, sweetheart.” He gripped your neck a little tighter. “But I need you to wait a little longer.” 

“But Matty…” The hot coil inside you constricted more and more. 

“I know, baby,” he smirked against your jaw. “Here, I’ll count with you, okay?”

You tried to think past the haze of him. “O-okay, Matt.”

“Alright.” His free hand returned to your clit, making it even harder for you to hold back. “Count with me and I’ll let you come. One.”

You took a shaking breath. “One.”

“Two.”

“T-two.” 

This continued his thrusts, getting faster, leaving you both panting by the final count. 

“Ten,” Matt growled, nipping the back of your neck, having been struggling to hold on himself. 

“Ten,” you exclaimed. “Ten ten ten. Matt please.”

He wicked a line up to your ear, biting the soft flesh there. 

“Come for me, Y/N.”

You reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair again as overwhelming shocks of pleasure burned through you like wildfire. As Matt spilled into you, his hips stuttering against your ass, you stopped feeling anything else. Everything was this moment. 

Neither of you even had a moment to say anything, completely overcome by pleasant exhaustion. 

Matt cradled you to him and you fell asleep tangled with his body. He breathed in your scent, smiling as he let sleep take over him as well. 

-

You woke up to a warm sun and an empty bed. A moment of confusion clouded your tired mind before memories of the night flooded your senses. 

Seeing Sam at the bar.

The emptiness in your chest. The nothingness. 

Then coming here with Matt…

Matt.

“Oh God.” You sat up, silk sheets slipping over your skin. 

You had sex with Matt. Your best friend. Amazing, mind-blowing sex, but at what cost? Was one night worth screwing up years of friendship? And where was he? Was he so disgusted by what you’d done he couldn't bear to be around you anymore? 

Those fears consumed you as you scrambled to gather your things and get dressed. You found the living room empty, making your stomach sink even more. The thought hit you like a punch to the gut.

You screwed up the most important relationship in your life… all because you saw your ex at a bar. 

How you felt about Matt- feelings you were realizing you had- didn’t matter. You’d fucked everything up. 

Matt was climbing the stairs with coffee in hand when he heard the racing, panicked heart in his apartment from a floor down. One thought leaped to the front of his mind.

You regretted everything. 

With every hurried step, Matt grew more furious with himself. What was he thinking? He’d let his feelings for you get in the way during a difficult time and now you hated him for it. 

He would apologize. He had to. He couldn’t risk the relationship you already had. Even if it meant ignoring how he really felt. 

He opened the door with sorry on his lips, but you beat him to it.

“Oh thank God, you’re back,” you sighed. From your tone and the lingering salt in the air, he knew you’d been crying. His fault.

“It is my apartment,” he teased. If he could just get things back to how they were-

“I know, but when I woke up you were gone and-” You took a deep breath. “I understand if this makes things too complicated and you don’t want to speak to me again. I promise I didn’t plan any of this and-”

“Y/N, wait.” Matt interrupted, finally understanding. 

It wasn’t regret. 

It was fear. Like his. Only, you had just gone through something similar with Sam, which made everything even worse. 

“I know you have a lot going on,” you said, trying to hold it together. “I won’t add to that. Not over a-” The words stung as you said them. “Over a pity fuck.”

And just like last night, Matt’s heart broke for you.

“Is that what you thought it was?” Matt asked quietly. 

“I don’t know.” You fell back onto the couch and stared at your lap, unable to look at him anymore. “First everything with Sam now I’m going to lo-” You couldn’t finish, sucking in a breath to keep from crying. 

Matt crossed the living room and sat beside you. Slowly, carefully, he took your hand in his. He laid it on his chest so you could feel the steadiness of his heart. 

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said. 

You focused on that heartbeat. 

Matt moved his hands to cup your face. 

“Last night wasn’t about Sam or the breakup or the bar.” He wiped a tear away with his thumb. “Last night was about us. You and me. And we can make it mean whatever we want it to or nothing at all. But Y/N,” he sighed, “you are not going to lose me.”

You let his words sink in and made yourself believe them, at least right now.

Matt pulled you closer, gently pressing his lips to your forehead.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you glanced at the table, finally taking in the scent of the coffee. 

“So that's where you disappeared to,” you laughed a little at yourself for panicking. 

Matt nodded, his hands falling to his lap. “Yeah, I was out and I know how you get without your caffeine.”

“Hey,” you snickered, poking his side.

“I knew I could get a smile.”

You blushed. “How do you even know?”

“Trust me,” he beamed. “I know.”

The two of you decided that you would figure it out at whatever pace you both needed. He was your best friend and you loved each other. And you would no matter what. Still, the prospect of being together, of taking your relationship a step further, excited both of you more than you admitted. 

There was, however, a promise Matthew had yet to keep…

So you had enchiladas for breakfast.

[slaybestieslay946]

can i request luke trying to get dionysus reader who’s close with their dad to join him and kronos? :3

thanks for your request! This one was kinda short coz i just focused on the scene where he tried to convince her, so i hoped i added enough like stuff about reader being close with her dad for your liking!

Betrayal

word count: 1100

pairing: luke castellan x dionysus!reader

warnings: angst! not a cute happy ending

MASTERLIST

You were woken up from your peaceful night's sleep by Annabeth Chase, standing by your bunk and shaking you quickly awake. 

“You need to come with me.” She said sharply, her voice urgent. 

“Wha- Annabeth? What are you doing here? What’s going on?” You asked, immediately concerned. 

“There’s no time to explain right now, you just have to come with me.” 

Of course, you trusted her implicitly. She was the little sister of your boyfriend, after all. And so, you immediately threw your cargo pants and camp t-shirt on, and followed her out of the Dionysus cabin. 

It was only as she began to lead you into the forest at the edge of camp that you began to wonder what she had called you out for. Annabeth was smart, and no-nonsense, so you couldn’t imagine that it was some kind of dumb prank. And she seemed pretty on edge, her breathing and walking pace both faster than usual. 

It could be something to do with Luke. He could be in trouble. 

No, it couldn’t be. He could handle himself perfectly fine on his own, he was the best swordsman in 500 years. No, it must be something else. 

You decided to probe her a bit further, “Annabeth?” You called softly. 

“Yes?” She answered quickly, not halting her progress into the woods. 

“If somethings wrong I can always wake up D, y’know? I know he can be kinda belligerent, but you won’t get in any trouble, I promise.” You bargained, hoping that if she was worried about getting told off, you wouldn’t get her back up. 

And it was true, as much as your father was seen as kind of a scary asshole to the average camper, you knew him better than anyone, and the truth that he was honestly a good person. Probably the best of the Olympian parents. 

After all, he had taken care of you your whole life, ever since you were dropped off here by your mother at the ripe age of 5. He was a lot more caring than most would normally expect. 

“No.” She snapped, her voice anxious, “We can’t get him involved, not right now. Just come with me, ok? And stay quiet.” 

You didn’t press her any further after that, staying silent for the remaining duration of your walk.  

Soon, you began to hear voices coming from deeper in the forest, and then, the talking ceased, and all you could hear was the louder clashing of swords. 

Annabeth grabbed hold of your hand to lead you closer, before donning her invisibility cap. You followed where she led you, a sinking feeling in your stomach growing more and more painful with each step you took. 

And it all came to a head when Annabeth brought you to the edge of a clearing, where Luke and Percy were engaged in a not-so-friendly looking ‘spar’. 

“What’s going on?” You whispered, although you weren’t sure who to.

“Luke, he’s…” She trailed off slightly. 

“He’s what.” You asked, your voice suddenly cold. 

“He stole the master bolt. He’s working with Kronos to overthrow the gods” She said, and her words were like an icy bucket of water being poured over your head. 

“You’re joking.” You said, a strained laugh coming from your throat. 

Annabeth didn’t reply. She was serious. 

And suddenly his strange behaviours over the past few months made perfect sense. He’d been so secretive, so calculated. Like he had to carefully think out every word he said to you. 

You whipped your head back to the two teenagers, and you were unable to stop yourself from dashing forward as you watched your boyfriend aim a particularly harsh blow at the 12 year old child. 

“Luke! What the fucks going on?!” You yelled, your face contorted in a mixture of confusion, anger, and hope. Hope that you and Annabeth had misinterpreted everything. 

But as Luke turned around to face you, his face torn with guilt, you knew she hadn’t. The daughter of Athena was right yet again. 

“What are you doing here?” He breathed out, partly from the physical exertion of the fight, but you could tell he was also affected by seeing you here. 

“You know why I’m here. Tell me it’s not true. Please, Luke.” 

He hesitated for a moment, before beginning to try and plead with you, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry, just let me explain-”

“Explain?! There’s no explanation for this! You’ve betrayed us Luke, you’ve betrayed me.”

He paused again, seemingly stunned by your reaction, your willingness to condemn him.

“I would never betray you. I love you, you know that. The gods are the ones who betray us. I’m fixing things, returning things back to the way they should be. Don’t you want to be a part of that?”

You gaped at him in complete and utter shock, “D is the only one who has never betrayed me. And I know he’s one of the few godly parents who gives a shit, and I know the rest of them treat us like shit, but that doesn’t mean whatever you're doing is right!” 

His face fell, and it was like he realised appealing to your logic hadn’t worked, so he tried your emotions. 

“You said you’d follow me to the ends of the earth? What happened to that, huh? I thought you loved me?” Luke’s voice was strained, taut with emotion like he was trying not to cry. 

“I didn’t think that would have to include following you into tartarus to resurrect a titan lord. And I do love you, but that doesn’t mean I agree with what you’re doing!” 

“C’mon, we can talk about this. Just come with me, I can explain everything, you’ll understand if you just come with me and let me explain.” He pleaded, taking a few steps towards you. 

You stepped back away from him, “No. I’m not going with you.” You said, trying to make your voice sound firm, but you were well aware of the way it wobbled slightly as you spoke. 

He turned back to Percy, who was still lying on the ground watching the exchange, “Last chance, Jackson. Last chance.” 

The 12-year old shook his head, his face harsh and cold against the boy he had once called a friend. 

And then Luke was looking at you again, as if trying to memorise your face, before rushing towards a portal Backbiter had created for him. 

Then he was gone. One of the few people you never thought would betray you was gone, never to return. 

[greythemed]

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ polymyxin b. ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 9005 (i am so sorry).

“stop pressing it, you dumbass!”. you exclaim in discomfort, but shamefully not because of you.

“it’s just a bruise, some nebacetin will do it”. your boyfriend’s reaction was pissing you off more than his colleague’s grunting behind you.

“it’s not just a bruise, that was metal they were hitting you with”. your angry tone left space for your saddened one and gun-woo did not like it at all. “why did you guys agree on that anyway?!”.

“it was his idea”, they both said it simultaneously, pointing fingers at each other making you roll your eyes.

“ya, y/n”. woo-jin called you. “don’t be so mean to him, he dodged almost every punch wonsuk-subaenim threw at him”.

was that supposed to calm you down? a middle finger was pointed at the older man next to your boyfriend, gun-woo laughing.

"aish-", woojin gets up to grab a towel and you laugh a little seeing woo-jin's response. "i miss when your girlfriend wasn't a professional doctor, gunwoo-ya". gun-woo smiles shyly and you return to your job on your boyfriend's abs.

"shut up, old man". you ignored him.

"see?! she doesn't respect me!". it was your turn to laugh, ignoring him once again.

“i can’t work properly without some soothing paste, gun-woo, look at this mess”, the frustration was evident in your voice, manicured hand tracing his right side carefully which made the boy a little sad and impatient.

“it’s okay jagiya, don’t worry too much”. he turned to you after throwing a nasty looking at his best friend for not helping and held your face in his hands. he hated to admit that he could see tears forming in your eyes. “we can take a look after napping today, what do you think? you must be exhausted”.

the brutal difference between your little hand and his almost pierced skin shamefully stole his attention for a couple of minutes. without even noticing, your other hand grabbed his shorts so tightly it was starting to color your knuckles white.

worriedly, gun-woo laced his fingers with yours and made him eye-level with you, damp hair and sweaty armpits ticking his brain saying you should shower after a training session that long but his mind was nowhere near worrying about himself.

“hey, look at me”. his voice sounded lenient enough that even woo-jin got quiet on the other side of the room. "it's okay, baby, i'm gonna be fine".

“you’re the one that should be exhausted, not me”. you complain about his kindness, starry eyes becoming glossy minute after minute, making the man in front of you almost panic.

“don’t think i don’t know you worked the whole day”. he says brushing your hair behind your ear. “mr. seo said you’ve been taking your colleagues' shifts too”.

your pout only grows like a kid being caught stealing candies at a party. it was so frustrating dating a boxer when you built your whole life around saving people's lives, choosing the most efficient predicament to help someone on the verge of dying, or physically taking matters into your own hands to avoid any nasty side-effects that could change a person's life forever.

leaving patients behind to suffer wasn't an option for you, let alone postpone the pains and unattended injuries of your loved ones.

“the skin, gun-woo”, you return to ramble and point at the purple bruise on his body. “it needs bacitracin and polymyxin b otherwise it’s going to get pretty ugly. imagine the metal pierced your skin? that would be the end, god".

“baby, stop thinking about it”. he lifts your chin so you’d stop looking at the bruise. “i won and that’s what matters, right? just one more week and we’re going to the finals half, it’ll be over soon”.

a pout was formed and your lips quivered. you’ve never cried in front of gun-woo before and his reaction was pure terror. you didn’t know what got you so worked up after the match against his stupid coach and that stupid ugly machine, but you winced every time his grunts on the ring got louder and louder.

a couple of minutes into the last round, you regretted coming to see his training, he kind of forgot to tell you that it wasn't the usual gym sessions anymore, and now they were approaching a more realistic season of monthly fights coordinated by his coach.

you hated his coach from now on and that was final.

gun-woo’s eyes were round and full of stress when you cleaned the first tear that have fallen on your left cheek, averting your gaze to the table behind him and trying to distract yourself.

“people with skin infections have a higher risk of low immune responses and vice-versa”, you continue, “they can vary from mild to serious”. gun-woo grips your arm.

"baby".

"are your vaccines up to date?". you asked him and he nodded. "god, that could've turned into a fucking lockjaw or something, gun-woo". he looked at you with pity and panicked.

"i'm okay, see?". he points to his sweaty chest. "we came to the doc appointment last week and we were all good, right, hyung?". gun-woo glances at woo-jin silently asking for help.

unfortunately, gun-woo was inexperienced in this dating thing and sometimes needed the help of his dramatic hyung.

"oh, yes, yes, yes. the doctor said we were new as a baby and wonsuk-ssi even congratulated us". the boxer held his thumbs up in an exagerated sign and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "the diet has been doing good for us! stop worrying too much kid, you're sounding like his mom".

you looked at your boyfriend with glassy eyes and a red nose, turning your back to woo-jin so he couldn't see your crying expression and hopeless state. you trusted the man with your life just as gun-woo did, but something about the ugly-looking bruise on your boyfriend's side was starting to look too scary for you.

"neomycin, compression, elevation, and a bruise-healing diet can also help speed up the healing process, but that looks scary". breathing deeply, you point to the injured local and grimace. "15—20 minutes of ice packs for 3—4 days will do it unless the skin is pierced". you pause, talking to yourself. "we better get going or you'll start bleeding soon".

"baby".

"arnica gel is useless here". you take a step forward and breathe deeply again. "fuck it, i'm applying vaseline if it gets worse".

"y/n". gun-woo called you but none of that was working.

"tell me if it starts bleeding, please? do not press it or else the blood will fuck everything up".

“woah, she is a stress-talker i can see”. on the other side of the changing room, woo-jin's comment made you think he deserves death.

“aish-, will you stop?”. gun-woo hugged your head in his chest and grimaced at his best friend next to the door. he was starting to get frustrated with your state and didn't know what to do.

woo-jin also came to see the fight but it turns out he was only making things worse in this moment.

“what? i am too!”. woo-jin defends. “i get all talkative when i’m stressed, but just not all of that smarty stuff she sayin’”.

“baby, we’re going home yeah?”. gun-woo patted your shoulder, dismissing his friend and looking at you. “there you can take a closer look and then we order food, hm?”.

your boyfriend was waiting for your response when he got a change of plans.

“sounds good!”. woo-jin exclaimed and you could feel your boyfriend rolling his eyes.

you swear to god woo-jin wasn’t usually this persistent.

gun-woo ignored him, which you found a little cute in your opinion, and even laughed a little.

“okay, but you’ll have to promise me to rest tonight”. you look up at his eyes and your boyfriend smiles. it was different to have someone other than his annoying best hyung or his mother worrying about his well-being, and for sure it was the first time someone this 'brainly' took care of him.

after being alone for so long, gun-woo appreciated your nurturing nature like no other and wanted to stop the negative feelings blooming in your chest right now.

“okay, i promise”. he presses a quick kiss on your lips, which was accompanied by a little wince since he had to bend down to your height to reach your face.

"ooh, i'm sorry". you grimaced apologetically.

he smiled and turned to reach for his shirt beside you, putting it on while waiting for you to pick his things up. gun-woo had to admit that was the most intense fake match his coach had put him into. maybe you were right and he should rest tonight.

"i met him first". gun-woo can hear woo-jin's voice threatening you at the door. he only went to wave his coach goodbye and came back for a bickering woo-jin and a pouty y/n. "he was just fine when it was only me and him".

"you smell like belly pork and not in a good way". you replied.

"aish-, respect your elders, kid". woo-jin's eyes were round and menacing. "i saved his life more than once, okay? we are brothers at heart, we even share our clothes!".

"his mom loves me, she even cooked me bulgogi when we first met!". that was you on your tip-toes beckoning woo-jin to the door, a man at least seven inches taller than you. his face was frightened and his hands were defensively in front of him. "and i know exactly when to turn the grill on when we're going out!".

gun-woo's shirt was too tight for him to keep listening to your argument, and he definitely was starting to feel his right side itching when the tissue came in contact with the bruise.

"aish-, that was one time!". woo-jin defended. "and you'll never know how a boxer's spirit works because we invented it".

"liar! you said you preferred mayweather when you guys first met, and i know this because he told me himself".

"oh please i am a manny pacquiao enthusiast at heart and forever will be. and! i've also seen his d-".

"ya, would you both stop?". gun-woo interrupted his friend with a glare, warily pulling you back so you wouldn't hit his friend across his face. "i'm tired and it's getting late".

"he started". you pointed at the older man. "and i've seen more than his dick, you old".

"ya!". gun-woo looks at you affronted and woo-jin starts laughing, hiding his mouth when gun-woo pretends to hit him.

"she gots quite the temper, bro". woo-jin had to point it out. "woo, i'm excited! finally someone who matches my energy".

"you both should stop". your boyfriend tsks and you look at him smiling. "and you shouldn't listen to him". he says.

"don't say it like we're finished, boxer". you threaten woo-jin with your eyes and gun-woo has to stand between both of you so you wouldn't jump the man scaringly.

"ya, take good care of my lil bro for me, yeah?". he taps gun-woo's shoulders and they both smile at each other intensively.

"aish-, it looks like you're both exactly in love, stop that".

"yes! she's getting jealous!". woo-jin exclaims.

"hyung, you're wife is waiting for you, just go". gun-woo whines at the man and he smiles, seeming to finally remember he has his own real lover. "woah, that's true, i'm going!". woo-jin starts running down the hall and waving at both of you goodbye, finally letting your boyfriend go smiling like an idiot.

gun-woo takes his bag from your shoulders and you both start walking down the hall hand in hand. for now, you choose to silence your concerns about the big boy and just plan a peaceful ride back to your home.

"take your clothes off". your voice sounded a little too low for gun-woo's liking and he couldn't suppress a smile. glancing at you, he couldn't help but find his all-black gym set a little out of place in your all-pink bedroom. to no surprise, you perfectly fit in the pastel colors you were wearing.

"buy me a dinner first, sailor". he had to joke looking at you and taking his tight gym shirt off. instantly, he felt his side ache. something damp ran down his ribs and gun-woo cursed when he spotted blood in the rem of his shorts.

well, wasn't that just great?

looking at the bathroom mirror, he grimaced pressing the purple and red spot with his other hand.

"don't". you came from nowhere, taking his bigger hand off of him and analyzing the situation with - what your boyfriend liked to call - doctor face. a first-aid kit was on your arms the instant you glanced at the little blood accumulating on the bruise. gun-woo attentively stared at your facial expressions worried about what you were going to do.

to his surprise, only a sigh escaped your lips, and the boxer was guided to sit on the bathtub behind him, your little hand holding two of his fingers so he could follow you. it was funny how larger his frame was compared to yours in the small white bathroom.

"does it hurt a lot?". you ask worriedly wiping his skin.

"no". he wasn't necessarily lying, you both knew how pain tolerance worked for gun-woo. "just itchy". he made a face and clicked his tongue boringly.

you looked attentively at the injury while avoiding your hands on the more reddened area.

gun-woo thought your size was the perfect complement to your cute personality. when he first met you, your height was the first thing that he noticed after your soft hair. of course, accompanied by your scary father he didn't dare to even look at your way properly, but his first impression of you was something the boy held dearly in his heart.

your smart brain was when everything became blurry to the boxer. for a recently graduated student, gun-woo knew your knowledge was freshly put into place, and added to the great things he had heard about your intellect before meeting your father, he knew you were smart. but imagine the surprise when he first saw you dealing with your father's disease from up-close, admiring your basically perfect approach and ripeness to everything handed to you.

it didn't click him. how could someone so delicate-looking be so splendidly clever and loveable at the same time. he thought it was unfair the fact that you were so effortlessly sexy in his eyes. and that was a first for the boxer.

you were his first everything.

"this has to have knocked the air out of your lungs". you state while kneeling on the floor in front of him, making the boy gulp and avert his gaze suddenly embarrassed.

“hm, yeah”. he gulped even harder. “but just for a moment, though. coach didn’t want to stop”.

between his parted legs, you were insinuating things he had trouble forgetting, and with one more glance at you, he had to part his lips surprised because jesus christ, why were you tying your goddamn hair?

"i'm talking to wonsuk-subaenim about this no matter what". you looked up at him and he quickly averted his gaze. "that stupid machine has to go away".

two weeks ago. in this same bathroom. you were wearing your pink PJs late at night and he swore he had never seen your lips that glossy. the position was the same. he remembers it all too well and has to shake his head to not make things harder for him.

"jagi-".

"i'm serious, gun-woo". now was his turn to sigh. why were you pretending this didn't do anything to you? was he the creepy one? oh god, he definitely was the creepy one. 

his eyes were as round as a golf ball as he looked at your innocent expression and silently cursed his inappropriate thoughts.

gun-woo swore he wasn't like this before meeting you. he was a decent young man with respectable beliefs and a proud mother that admired and trusted him blindly.

being an athlete, gun-woo was often proclaimed for his self-control and disciplined routines. now, only a glance at your smooth skin without too much clothing was enough to have the man spiraling and sweating.

four months ago he wasn't like this.

"it's the second time this happens. remember that day in your mom's apartment? you told me you'd take more care of yourself". you continue to speak nonchalantly, rambling your frustrations to the man.

"it was a snap kick i wasn't ready for". he clears his throat hoping to not sound too raspy. "coach didn't tell me on time". you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"i am going to need an elastic bandage for this". you say more to yourself, warm hands inspecting the swelled area while your boyfriend examines your face panicked. because why were you so close to his fucking crotch? "and also a heating pad to clear up the trapped blood. will you hold it for me?". you ask him to hold the warm cloth while you searched for more things for help in the first-aid kit.

"baby, could you work on this side first?". he shyly asked, thick thighs trapping you in place to gather your attention. the boxer had to summon all the courage in the world to politely ask you this. the little yelp you let out because of the sudden touch made him blush involuntarily. "s-sorry".

his voice was so low and raspy that made you question what the hell was going on. even involuntarily, his voice always gave him in.

"oh my god, did i hurt you?". you worriedly questioned, getting up quickly so you could examine him from afar.

"no, no". he waves it off, gulping a few times so the embarrassment could pass.

it wasn't working.

"it's just that... that position". he pointed to the floor where you were previously sitting and saw exactly the moment your expression changed.

"what?". your confusion was clearly shown by your knitted brows and opened mouth.

"the position you were in... you know...". he gulped more times than he could count and could feel the fire his cheeks were on at that moment. only when his hands fled to his crotch area as if trying to hide something that your brain finally clicked.

"kim geun-woo, is that a boner? oh my god". he grimaced embarrassingly. "how could you think of things like that when your skin is basically peeling?!".

"c'mon, baby, i was trying to be discreet". he interrupts you, dying to pull your hands so he could properly apologize to you but you kept getting away. "i'm sorry, it's just that it triggered a memory of us a while ago and you tied your hair and everything and my brain stopped braining".

"you need to go to church, you pervert". his pout was something you were accustomed to, and his shy whines were a great reminder that, even if your boyfriend looked like a war trunk and sculpted by the sky itself, he still was stupidly timid when it came to things like this. "i'm joking". you laugh and he rambles.

"i'm not asking for anything! just s-stay here". he points to the floor next to his right leg, a different space from where you were before. "please".

"how long have you been like this?". a shit-earing grin was starting to adorn your face, almost forgetting about the important task you had at hand.

"i-i'm not asking anything, i swear". he repeats in despair. "i don't want you to feel uncomfortable, please".

"uncomfortable?". you approach him laughing. "baby, you're my boyfriend for a reason, you could never make me uncomfortable. that happens sometimes, no need to feel embarrassed about it".

"well, i'm just worried sometimes because of... you know what". instantly, your heart grew all soft.

"oh my god, are you talking about what i told you the other day?". your round eyes were glued to the man in front of you, hands swiftly caressing his sweaty hair while you fought the urge to kiss his forehead.

"you said you didn't have great experiences in the past and, even though i wonder sometimes, i don't feel like it would be nice to ask you which ones. so i try to just avoid situations like this so you won't think of me as just another dirty-minded creep". he explains and you kiss him.

you wanted to cry. and suck the life out of him. at the same time. because that's just how dating kim geun-woo makes you feel.

"i'd never think of you in that way, oppa". you hugged his head on your chest and he nosely laughed, finally relieved for not completely fucking things up. "i would suck you anytime, anywhere you want, you know that". you say and he looks up at you seriously.

"ya, stop teasing".

"i'm serious, i literally am in love with you and your co-".

"oh my god, you need church". he closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to take control of his own body.

"you're like the most romantic and sweetest guy a girl could ever want. and then your dick had to be big too!".

"ya!". gun-woo looked serious and you smiled at that. what he didn't notice was that he was gripping your ass unconsciously in his nervous state.

"pervert". you whispered in his ear and he immediately stopped.

"i'm going to go, woojin-hyung is not so mean to me as you are". he pretends to start getting up and you hold his arms laughing. his whiny tone was so cute you could die.

"i'm sorry, sorry! it's just so easy to mess with you". he glared at you and you smirked. "i can't let an injured man run around the streets alone, especially an uncontrolled one".

"just wait for this fucking thing to heal, y/n". you opened your mouth in shock. was that veins popping on his temples?

"language!".

"sorry, sorry, can you please do your job?".

you laughed at that and kneeled at his side, sensing that he was starting to become frustrated. you weren't sure why, but at this beginning of your sexual life, you found yourself often giving in to his wishes afraid that you are stepping into a hole with no way up.

gun-woo made you feel safe - not uncomfortable in any way. but sometimes you doubted the man was engaged in this type of thing at all because he seemed to skip any opportunity he has to rock your world daily. you trusted him and respected his slow pace.

you made the order in your head, soothing the area with some polymyxin b and nebacetin, soothing oils for the itchy feeling to go away, and vaseline to keep the wound moist. after that, you wrapped the bruise with an elastic bandage and gently pressed the heated cloth there for a few minutes.

too tempted, you sneaked a glance at your boyfriend's shorts.

"oh my god, it's huge".

for one second, you thought you were flying across the bathroom and the other you realized gun-woo had got up so fast you fell backward and hit your head on the marble floor. the pain shoots straight to your neck and ear almost instantly.

"omo!". gun-woo came to the rescue in panic, seeing what he has done. "are you alright?". he asked worried.

"it was a compliment, idiot!". you screamed at him, grimacing at the new feeling in your head. "what is wrong with you?".

"so now it's my fault?". he defended. "you're not supposed to be saying things like that when is not sexy time!".

“don’t say ‘sexy time’!”.

“you can’t keep doing this, i’m trying to be polite here!”.

"i was just teasing you!". you glanced at his stoic face and got up with his help, patting your head where it hurt most, thankful to find no blood in the area.

"it turns me on!". he confessed and for a minute you were glued to the ground. "it makes me want to take you to bed and have sexy time when you're all bratty and mouthy". his raspidly voice said and you had to grip the counter behind you so you wouldn't fall again.

what did he just tell you?

"oh". it was your turn to feel the fire on your cheeks. "i-i didn't know, i'm sorry, i thought...". you guiltily gulped staring at gun-woo's chest before looking him in the eyes.

"i'm trying to take things slow but you don't help, y/n". the sincerity in his raspy voice made you almost want to shy away. forwardness never looked so sexy in someone like it does to him. "i'm not that experienced, you know that, so i don't know what you like and don't like and that makes me scared to fuck it up. and, god, that makes me fucking insane because all i can think about is you all the time".

your sweaty palms gripped the bloodied rem of his shorts and you closed the gap between the two of you, steading your wobbly feet with gun-woo's help. the proximity made him crazy and you could see the mental battle he was going through in his head. you pecked his lips three times before whispering.

"why be scared?". your starry eyes locked him in place and gun-woo swore he couldn't move, your question making him confused. "i also want you all the time, oppa. i think of you all the time, that's why is so hard for me to see you getting hurt and i want to cry my eyes out when it happens. you drive me crazy, oppa".

"i'm sorry". you didn't know he was talking about what have happened in the ring or about what he was going to do to you because suddenly his expanded pupils made his eyes get darker and darker and you were almost crying from the anticipation of feeling him anywhere.

"i'm worried you'll get more hurt". one of your hands traveled to his injured side, never leaving his gaze. "you should... i'm sorry, gun-woo, we shouldn't-".

"you promise to tell me if anything feels wrong?". he cuts you off by arching your back and locking his eyes with you, entirely invading your personal space. "if you don't like something, do you promise to make me stop? because i swear to god i can't take it anymore, y/n". he whispered the last part on your mouth and you swore the cat got your tongue for a minute.

"uhum". you nod your head and gun-woo stayed still, arching his brows as if challenging you not to finish the sentence. "i promise, oppa". you said breathly, eyes focused on his and nowhere else.

you could feel all of gun-woo's desire pulsing deliciously beneath him, hard and voluminous, inciting your intimacy to slowly release lubricant.

you were curious. his face was cute and his body was a sin, but not all of the morals and good mannerisms in the world could hide the true desire of a person. you knew he always wanted more and you were so curious to find out what exactly his innocent brain had conjured in all these months of dating you.

gun-woo panted softly, having complete control of your body now that your toes were barely touching the ground, back arching even more while he took a deep breath next to your ear. and then he started teasing his own body as he rocked back and forth, slowly, in search of relief. and using you.

you kissed his neck, and there was when you worked him up with little kisses and shy licks, making him more and more susceptible to pleasure. gun-woo was such a selfless person that he felt scared of taking instead of giving and you wanted to prove him wrong. you wanted to prove to him that sex is good regardless of your position.

you didn't count on his strength in moments like this, but he was a boxer, after all, so you were silly to think he would take it easy on you. only one minute in and his grip was so strong on your skin that you were certain your ass was battered, squeezed, and still under the fabric of your slacks.

you knew his body all too well, you saw him naked countless times and so did he with you in the last 4 months. but never he did what he wanted with you. too shy, too aware, too scared to ask you. because that's just what gun-woo was.

selfless.

he pulled your face away from his neck so that he could bring his full lips to yours. you were kissed at the pace he dictated, in the way he wanted, fast and wild. both of your tongues collided in a hot, pleasurable slide.

you swore this wasn't the same man who had blushed at remembering you sucking him off minutes ago.

gun-woo sucked hard on your voluminous lips every time he withdrew his tongue, which you insisted on sucking in the most erotic way possible whenever he invaded your mouth. meanwhile, your hips were manipulated by the boxer's hands, which made them rise and fall slowly on his still-covered cock.

your hips were placed on the counter and you finally realized you didn't have much place to run after that. you were trapped between your sink and a 6ft tall man in front of you with sirened eyes that could kill you.

your pants gradually gained moisture, and the moan you let out when gun-woo gripped your ass with more force maddened the boxer even more, making him stop the kiss and go down with his stimulations on your neck and collarbone, seconds later capturing one of your clothed nipples between his lips and sucking it.

you bit your bottom lip and intertwined your fingers in gun-woo's hair, with his head tilted up, eyes closed and lips parting as he let out gasps of pure delight. the moan you let out when he invaded your pants with his hands and started unbuttoning your jeans and unconsciously scraping your clit was so purely erotic that even he grunted.

"sorry". his gruff voice was rushed as if he felt bad for you but at the same time didn't actually give a shit and was only trying to be polite - trying not to lose his complete sanity.

which was slowly faltering.

you pushed his head against your chest in response, undulating your hips over his hard prominence and the boxer's reaction was to feel a painful twinge in his pelvis and moan.

he raised his head, eyes even darker, then glared at you. he touched your chin with his thumb and slid it across your lips while breathing deeply.

you reached into his pants and touched him, initiating continuous movements along his entire length. gun-woo's lips parted and his brows furrowed, giving you the most obscene view you've ever seen of his face.

hot scar glowing in his sweaty skin and cutting the right side of his entire cheek. 

his body was getting hotter, your body was getting hotter, his cock getting harder and your pussy getting wetter. it was painful to repress his own urges.

"fuck". you brought his dick out of his shorts and jerked it off, hands almost trembling with so much tenseness your crotch area was feeling. getting him off made you want to cry.

gun-woo closed his eyes and gasped when you massaged his glans wet by pre-cum.

"gun-woo". you called him in such a whiny tone that made him go crazy, hiding his face on your neck and biting his lips until it draw blood to his mouth. "i c-can't". you tried to say and his ears perked up. "i'm too wet, i d-don't know what to do". it was embarrassing for you to confess something like that, but hearing gun-woo's grunts and quiet moans was making you wetter and wetter. and you weren't lying, you actually didn't know what to do because you've never been this turned on before.

what the hell?

"fuck, don't call me that, baby". he breathed on your neck and for a second you were afraid he could smell your fucking pre-cum pooling on your panties.

"stop moaning in my ear, for fuck's sake". you didn't know where the strength to say a full sentence came from suddenly but you were afraid a simple touch of the man was going to make you fucking cum.

is this how you feel when you fuck someone you love? mighty skies above, you'll have to do this every day now. 

"what do you want me to do when you won't stop squeezing my fucking dick, princess?". his voice sounded more like a growl than an actual human sound and you whined even louder in return.

you arched your body as he trailed his fingertips along your back, intensifying the contact of his thigh against your intimacy. you parted your lips and let out a high moan in response to his touches.

suddenly, you were so sensitive you could cry.

gun-woo felt your grip on his dick falter as if giving him a break. finally, the man could breathe properly again.

the next second, you felt your lips numb with such force that gun-woo sucked them, your body limp as he ultimately took control of your body.

not platonically, but literally.

"fuck, gun-... please".

like a ragdoll, he manhandled you in a position where your cunt was pressed directly on his flexed thigh, making you cry. frustratingly kicking your pants off of you, gun-woo helped you strip the rest of your clothes off before positioning you in the same place as before and teasing your bare pussy lips with his muscles.

you felt him capturing your left nipple and massaging it with his thumb, hearing your sighs between the kiss. as he stimulated the areola, he felt it getting rigid. gun-woo introduced his tongue into your mouth and played with your whiny moans.

your body was tactful to the boxer's touch, and when you felt the digits tightening around your areola, you couldn't help but dig your toes into his butt and moan muffledly, with gun-woo's tongue entering and leaving your mouth, slowly.

a trickle of saliva ran down the corner of the man's mouth. he closed his eyes to focus on the sensations. your excited pussy continued to be stimulated by his thigh, as well as your chest. he was still sucking your tongue when he felt his member pulsate painfully, brushing on your other thigh and moving a little farther to the left, bringing both of your crotches together and beginning a slow rub, undulating his hips in such a way that you stopped sucking his tongue and gasped in delight, squeezing his biceps tighter.

"gun-woo".

he kissed your lips and bit the bottom one, slowly pulling it away from your teeth.

his mouth moved down your jaw and onto your neck, where he could hear your gasps more audibly as he tongue-kissed the warm, milky skin of your throat, careful to leave pretty marks in his travel. his fingers were sadly no longer playing with your nipples, now they were on your bent thigh, holding it firmly as he rubbed himself shamelessly against your body.

gun-woo was using you to get off.

sensing what your boyfriend was finally doing, you cocked your head and with heavy, fluttering eyelids, watched your boyfriend's unholy face in pure delight. parted lips, messy hair, and one of your legs wrapped around him.

you watched, full of lust, as the boxer rubbed himself on you. kissing your neck ardently to the point of trembling eyes.

you already felt your opening releasing natural lubrication and wondered why haven't this man done this to you before.

"i can't anymore, gun-woo. p-please".

"please? do you need something, princess?". he spoke softly but with full of warning.

"fuck... you. need you".

"yeah right, you do". his comment was so lowered that you wondered if you had imagined it for a second. "need you too, princess, don't worry".

in a swift moment, your torso was thrown directly in his chest, your arms circling his neck for purchase while gun-woo hugged your body and finally walked towards your bedroom. when you said you were a ragdoll was because you felt like one, being tossed in the bed without an ounce of strength in your limbs and you weren't even fucked yet.

he then grabbed your waist again and kissed you, meanwhile, you took his shorts off completely, admiring the messy state he made with his liquids. gun-woo grabbed your ass once again and squeezed them, sliding his fingers through the partition between them and smearing all over your ass with his own lubrication.

oh my god. this man was sick.

"gun-woo". you called him whiny.

he climbed off the bed and pulled you to the edge simultaneously, manhandling your body as he wished. when both of your feet hit the floor, he tore his lips from yours and looked at you.

"do you mind?". for a second, his old innocent eyes shined in the pink light your bedroom had on. sincerely, your mind was too sex-hazed to even process he was talking to you in the first place, so you just tried to focus on his face and smile. "turning around?". he motioned with his fingers a cute circle and your eyes rounded dangerously.

"back?". you pointed to the bed and then at you, voice hoarse from all the torturous moaning.

"uhum". his smile was so pure you wanted to punch him in the face, nodding his head excitingly as if he wasn't asking you to expose your cunt in the air for him.

"a-all f-fours?". you asked him again, surprised and feeling your brain all fluffy inside.

"if you don't want, that's okay". for a moment, you felt his uncommon confidence falter and you were quick to reassure him.

"no, i want to". your doe eyes held all the stars in the sky, gun-woo was sure of it.

"ok". he smiled like a kid.

"ok?". you were too stunned to form coherent sentences.

"ok?". he asked confused, waiting for you to turn around with expectant eyes and arched brows.

"ok". you nodded your head finally.

again, he grabbed your waist, pressing his pelvis to your ass as you turned around. gun-woo started attacking your nape with chaste kisses that made their way to your neck, where he left hickeys and bites. you cocked your head to the side, leaving your neck completely free for the man to make as many purple and red marks as he wanted.

quickly, gun-woo left you to search for his shorts on the floor. when he came back, he surprisingly handed the condom to you, a silent request for you to put it on him which almost made you choke.

upon receiving it, you opened the package and took your hands back, touching the boxer's length. simultaneously, gun-woo slid his hands along your curves and massaged your breasts, making you fail on the first try of putting the condom on. a low moan escaped your mouth, but you didn't stop concentrating on holding your boyfriend's cock and positioning the condom on the glans, then holding the tip and unrolling it completely to the base.

you positioned the glans between your heat and thrust it into yourself, having to bite your lower lip to contain your murmurs due to the burning sensation. gun-woo hugged your body and let himself slide in slowly, with his forehead pressed against your shoulder. you opened your mouth and a breathless groan left your mouth painfully.

"gunw-".

gun-woo's eyes opened slowly, just to enjoy the view from below, where his cock slowly came out of your hole, and seconds later, it went back inside a little faster.

"fuuck". his voice was gruff, head empty, and only the feeling of your walls gripping his member inside of you running through his mind. "fuck, princess”.

you threw your head up and brought your right hand back, tangling your fingers in his hair. your brows shaped like your entire face in a set of pained and pleasurable expressions. you felt the heat every time gun-woo entered and exited, but it also felt wonderfully good to feel his cock opening you.

"fuck you". you couldn't help but curse, vaginal canal struggling to keep his member inside as he slide out of you every time. "gun-woo, please, i c-can't". you felt your cheeks wet, confirming to both of you that you were crying over a man's cock.

gladly.

"breathe for me, princess, fuck". he stopped inside you, letting you accommodate him calmly. your moan when he pinched your clit was feral.

"big, big, big". was all you could say and the boxer started to want to laugh.

"hey, princess, you're hearing me?". you breathed deeply. “c’mon, don’t be so cock-dumbed already”.

“fuck you”. was all you could say, twitching around him like crazy.

"we can't stop if it's not what you like-".

"i swear to god, i'm going to kill you. don't stop!". you screamed. painfully.

"hey, you're too tight, jagiya. you need to breathe for me first, yeah?". gun-woo himself was struggling to contain his urge to fuck you relentlessly, but he wanted you to enjoy this as well. "fuck, you're squeezing the fuck out of me, prin-".

"i c-cant. too fucking stretched, gun-woo".

"we've done this before baby, remember? i know you can, now relax for me. i'm feeling a bump on your stomach here". he pressed the bulge and you keened, juices leaking everywhere between your legs.

“i’m so wet”. you didn’t know who you were talking to anymore if it was to him or yourself.

again, you were crying and involuntarily relaxed your lower half, turning limp in your boyfriend's arms and arching your back more making him hit a new angle.

"shit-". you moaned and he felt his member twitch because of the contraction. "that's it, that's it, good girl". he breathed deeply when he could move again, relieved to have some breathing space.

without warning, gun-woo penetrated you fast and rough, making your small body propel forward, and the only thing that kept you from falling was his firm hands on your waist.

a moan escaped your lips and the rest of them died on your throat when your eyes rolled back and gun-woo hit a new angle.

the boxer smirked. gun-woo knew perfectly well how to tease you.

he then squeezed your hips and wrapped his digits in your hair. for the next moment, he withdrew from inside you and came back again, fast and hard, eliciting moans from your drooling mouth. as much as your eager moans were constant, gun-woo continued to fuck you mercilessly, without chastity, inserting himself completely without stopping. the erotic noise of your bodies colliding became frequent, echoing throughout the room and almost moving your bed from its place multiple times.

the moans became louder and more constant, and if it weren't for the firm touch of gun-woo's hands in your hair and hips, you would certainly collapse on the mattress. a trickle of lubricant ran down between your legs, and the excess made gun-woo's cock penetrate more easily into you.

you let out a high-pitched moan, the loudest yet.

gun-woo smiled happily, almost proudly, starting to thrust in the same place, which generated a sequence of loud and tearful moans coming from you.

"fuck". he cursed once, twice, and countless times with how good your pussy felt. gun-woo was losing his mind with no restraints and overthinking.

you moaning his name was beautiful, too wonderful not to be heard and appreciated, and gun-woo wished you would call his name louder and louder so everyone would know you were his.

as much as he was yours.

"princess, you there?". he worriedly asked, sensing your lack of words and quiet whines while he fucked you.

"hmm". you couldn't speak, that was on period. it didn't matter how much you tried, your eyes were too rolled back in your head for you to make sense.

and gun-woo being the wonderful boyfriend that he was, started kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck, silently saying to you that it was okay to feel so good you turned completely non-verbal.

you bit your bottom lip and, glancing over your shoulder at the worried boxer, you threw your hips back and forward, repeating the same movement signaling you were okay.

gun-woo, on the other hand, had to tightly close his eyes and suppress a growl at your hips undulating while he was still inside. the veins on his neck, arms, and hand were surely evident while he hold his breath.

somehow, you sped up your movements, and little by little, the noise of both of your bodies colliding became louder, more frequent, hotter. you whimpered when gun-woo's glans hit your sensitive spot again, and it didn't take long for your orgasm to threaten to come.

you stopped bouncing and rolled slowly, contracting, the boxer's entire cock inside you.

"i'm cumming". you exclaimed. "can i cum? fuck, gun-woo".

he then grabbed your hair again and put the side of your face against the mattress, and in that position, you were able to see the reflection of your bodies in the wardrobe mirror. and when you thought that your pleasure could not increase, the opposite was proved when you watched gun-woo's hips investing quickly in yourself, while his face was a mixture of pleasure and lust.

your small doe eyes rolled back and your vision became more blurred, your fingers dug hard into the mattress, pulling it and squeezing it between your hands. your eyes water and you mentally asked him not to stop.

"so good". gun-woo grunted in your ear and that was your last thread, squirting everywhere your pussy reached and making a mess of gun-woo's legs. the heat you felt on your cheeks was so intense you started to feel embarrassed.

panting for air, your body couldn’t stop twitching and your muscles couldn’t stop contracting around gun-woo’s member. for a moment, your brain was only white and you were certain you were crying for fuck’s sake.

"jesus christ, what was that?". the man was marveled and lust-hazed, too surprised to notice you were almost passing out.

"baby, please". you whispered weakly, gun-woo slowing down his movements and reaching for your face.

"princess?". his tone was worried for a minute too long. "are you good?".

"squirt". you try to say, feeling your brain too hazed to work properly. "i just s-squirted".

"oh", gun-woo's face was too innocent for someone who had his cock deep inside you, in your opinion, and you hated it. "you gripped me so tight, i thought i was dying". he laughed meaningly and you glanced back at him through the mirror with horror. how could he react like that?

the next thing you know your eyes were as round as your mouth and your lungs were burning with the lack of air. you moaned uncoordinated, finding it hard to distinguish when your pussy stopped spasming and gave him room to move again.

"what do you think you're doing, gun-woo-!?". your scream was cut short by the man thrusting into you again. with full force.

your legs trembled with pleasure, and then they failed to hold themselves together. seeing that you would collapse on the bed, he laid down on top of you and held both of your closed fists, accelerating the penetration even more, which, due to the position, made you tighter.

your clit pressed against the mattress caused friction that only added to the maximum overstimulation. gun-woo took your hands to your pussy lips and made you pull the bands one on each side.

"keep it open for me please, princess?". he asked menacingly, another orgasm starting to build inside you.

"gun-woo!". this man was sick.

"cum with me this time, yeah, baby?". he whispered in your ear, face turned to your reflection in the mirror and staring right back at your eyes.

"i'm gonna cum-". you affirmed.

"c'mon baby, just a sec, will ya?".

you closed your eyes and tried to hold back, however, gun-woo continued to fuck you deliciously. couldn't hold it anymore. that was final. having your clit constantly hit and neck kissed was too much to delay your orgasm any longer.

the overstimulation was killing you.

"gun-woo, i can't".

"i'm cumming, baby". he grunted out of breath. "cum with me, princess".

and as if it were magic words, you reached your orgasm right when he closed his mouth, followed by a slick and louder moan, making your whole body tremble with the wonderful spasms. breathing was frantic, and his hands were lying at your sides. gun-woo was still fucking in search of his own orgasm.

you contracted around him, squeezing him and, consequently, increasing his pleasure, and that was the climax for the boxer, who finally came deliciously inside the condom.

he was in heaven. searching for something to hold his sanity onto.

his nonexisted sanity.

you kissed him, in an attempt to distract both of you from the thoughtless state of mind. gun-woo turned your body with one hand and collapsed on top of you just after. your yelp was soundless to the boxer, head too pleasured for not stuffing his nose on your hair and trying to compose his fucking mind.

"you there?", gun-woo's voice was muffled by your skin, body too subtle under his.

"everything burns". you admitted in a whisper, throat flaming for moaning so loud.

"i think your neighbor will have complaints tomorrow". the man on top of you smirked and nosely laughed.

"don’t laugh, it’s your fault. you're crashing me, oppa". you whined trying to pull him off of you but not being able to move one muscle.

"omo, 'm sorry". he got off of you and smiled looking at you, almost shy to see your flushed face.

you smiled weakly in return and gun-woo took the condom off of him, making a knot and throwing it on the floor, next to the bed, to throw it away later. he settled on top of your body again and leaned on his forearms, and after facing you and smiling tenderly at your disorientated state, he kissed you tenderly.

you cupped his face and returned the kiss, calm but as delicious as any other one you both had. your hands were shaking while holding his chin and the man seemed to notice. his breathing was still labored, and because of that, he stopped the kiss but continued with both of your foreheads together, noses brushing against each other and lips open.

the two of you were sweaty, you were tired.

"you were amazing, oppa". your raspy voice came in contact with his ears and gun-woo tried to hide his burning cheeks on your neck again, you stop him and stared right back into his eyes.

"really?”. you giggled and he laughed at your hazy gaze. he then started sliding the digits of his right hand by your waist. "you're the one to blame".

"i love you". gun-woo smiled widely and you followed suit, without much exaggeration.

gun-woo tilted his head down and stared at your face; rosy cheeks, closed eyes and chest rising and falling with some frequency. he smiled small and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead, starting to stroke your damp soft hair.

"thank you, princess. i love you too". he whispered drowsily. "can't believe you squirted yet".

"stop". it was your turn to feel shy.

"it was hot".

"you sex beast. i am afraid of not being capable to get up to change your bandage". gun-woo almost choked.

oh god. the bruise.

"a-ah y-yes, totally". he looked down on his side and made a face at the kneaded band-aid.

you could not see that now.

"it's okay, though. i'm okay".

"are you?", your hazy doe eyes glanced at his sirened ones and gun-woo was quick to nod his head dramatically. "'kay". you replied tiredly, eyes almost closing. "can i take a nap, oppa?".

"of course, babygirl". the boxer keened, worried about your dimmed state and praying that he'd have the time to fix your bandage before you woke up.

his high pain tolerance scared him sometimes too, but gun-woo was sure that when the adrenaline left his body, he would feel the consequences of his actions the next day.

"want to shower with me first?". he asked before seeing your eyes completely closed.

"'m tired". you murmured.

"i'll be quick, okay? you don't have to do nothing, we can use the tub", gun-woo suggests.

you surprisingly laughed, and your eyes reduced to two tiny lines. it was so admiring the unique beauty of your joy that, spontaneously, your boyfriend also smiled. it was infectious and refreshing to see your smile so huge and genuine.

"are you suggesting that you shower me like a kid, sailor?". your voice was filled with happiness and the man next to you was quick to reply.

"no, no, no, that's creepy". his brows were arched and his eyes round, you wanted to laugh because of his pure reaction. "i just wanted you to rest... to not be tired and sticky".

"okay, baby. you can take care of me".

gun-woo opened a huge smile and left your body on the bed so he could turn on the bathtub and quickly come back to you.

staring at you sprawled in your element, kim geun-woo realized that he had never been more happy in his entire life than right now.

and he didn't give a fuck if his right side was completely numb when he had you.

don't normalize arguing with your boyfriend's best friend while he is injured and horny ! that might have consequences... hope you guys enjoyed and i'm so sorry for any misspelling 🥺 (this is how sex with kim geun-woo post ep.6 would be and you cannot prove me otherwise)

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompt-a-long, and based on a true story.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) 9: intimidation (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

John jerks his head up from his laptop the second he realises something alarming:

The flat is quiet.

'Sherlock.'

'Hmm?' Sherlock doesn't look up from his experiment.

'Where's Rosie?'

Sherlock raises his hand to point. 'She's right--' He finally actually raises his head. 'Oh. Dear.'

'Hell,' John curses, ignoring a shot of pain as he stands too quickly.

Sherlock's Voice of Reason tendencies are very useful here. He puts himself in front of John and forces his gaze. 'Don't let's panic. She didn't grow wings, nor is it likely she suddenly gained the physical capacity to climb a baby gate. So she's just hidden herself somewhere. She probably thinks it's a game. You search the sitting room, I'll take the loo and then the kitchen. Alright?'

John nods, and promises himself he'll show Sherlock his appreciation later. Possibly with something beyond the snatched kisses they've managed so far. 'Alright.'

Three minutes later, he hears Sherlock's long sigh. 'John.' John strides over to where the detective is standing in front of his bedroom door. 'Apparently…'

'It locks?'

'It locks.'

'What about the second loo door?'

Sherlock grimaces. 'I always keep that one locked from the inside.'

'Alright, where's your key?'

'I don't have a key for either door. Never did do.'

John leans in towards the door. 'Rosie?' he calls, trying to keep his tone calm.

'Yeah, Daddy!'

The air escapes his lungs in a great dirty whoosh. 'Oh thank Christ,' he mutters. He raises his head and turns to Sherlock. 'Can you go see if--'

Sherlock's already halfway out the kitchen door, calling back, 'I'm sure she'll have one.'

But Mrs Hudson does not, in fact, have one, she tells John once she's come upstairs, wringing her hands as best she can with her wrist in a soft cast. 'I'm sorry! I'll call a locksmith straight away.'

'Nonsense,' Sherlock says over her. 'My lockpicks are, unhelpfully, behind the locked door, but I bet you could get me a hairpin and a nail file, please?'

John looks at Mrs Hudson and shrugs. 'Not things I keep on hand, I'm afraid.'

'Oh, pah, you boys. I'll be back in a tic.'

'Do you think you can actually pick it?' John asks quietly as soon as he can hear her feet on the stairs.

'Erm…possibly.'

'Possibly.'

'It's quite old and disused, John.'

'And?'

'And that means rust. Decay. Mechanisms that don't work anymore.'

'Christ,' John mutters. He puts his forehead to the door again. 'Sweetheart?' he calls.

'Daddy?'

'Will you open the door for me, Rosie?'

'Ermmm, no,' she says clearly.

'God grant me patience,' he says to himself, and jerks his head up when he hears Sherlock laugh.

'Sorry,' Sherlock says, clearly not sorry at all, 'but you sound like my mother.'

'Yes, I'd imagine she needed a deep well of patience to raise you.'

'Endless. Rosamund?' he says to the door. 'Do you want to unlock that door so you can help me with an experiment?'

John eyes him, but if it works, then--

'Nope,' she replies, popping her P like a certain someone.

'She's evil,' John mutters.

'She's stubborn.'

'She gets that from you.'

'I beg your pardon,' Sherlock says, quite offended. 'I am reasonable.'

'Sure. When you're not being stubborn.'

Sherlock pivots very unsubtly. 'Ms Watson, if you unlock that door, then Mrs Hudson will bake you some of those cakes you like.'

John pushes against his shoulder. 'Her wrist is broken!' he whispers incredulously.

'We can buy some at the bakery,' Sherlock whispers back. 'She'll never know.'

'You're evil.'

'Yes, well, you let me past the threshold, so you can really only blame yourself.'

'No, thank you!' Rosie calls back.

John rolls his eyes. 'Sure, she's polite for Mrs Hudson.'

'Clever.'

'Not helpful.'

'We could try intimidation.'

'Could we, though?' John asks, bemused.

'You can be very intimidating when you like, despite your stature.'

'Thanks,' he replies dryly.

But before they can debate the merits of trying to intimidate a toddler into doing anything, Mrs Hudson re-appears with the requested items. 'Oh, I do hope you can pick it, Sherlock. I will be very disappointed in your skills otherwise, you speak so highly of them.'

John coughs a laugh into his hand. 'Thanks, Mrs H.'

Twenty minutes later, though, John's growing desperate, texting everyone in his phone to see if they have any brilliant ideas. Wondering how much it would cost to just lift the door off it's hinges.

In the end, he should have known to just ring Molly first. 'Just put me on, okay?' she says quickly. John does as requested. 'Hi, Rosie!' she says cheerfully via speakerphone.

John and Sherlock exchange a look. 'Rosie,' John says, trying to keep his tone pleasantly neutral. 'If you come out, you can talk to Aunt Molly,'

They all hold their breath.

Then the lock turns.

[❤️]

[sparetheninja]

Can I request that the reader has a snort laugh and the turtles find out by tickling them and the reader gets embarrassed by it and hides there face but they turtles reassure them that it’s cute and tickle them more please and thank you

WAHHH THAT SOUNDS ADORABLE !!! I genuinely loved writing this (as a lee) aaahhehehehe ….. sorry if this didn’t turn out the way you expected cause tbh ….. it didnt turn out the way i expected. But i TRIED. And izTs like 3 am rn.

« Give me that remote ! »

The turtles find out you snort and, oh boy, do they love it.

Includes: Tickling !!

Lee: (gender neutral) Reader ,

Ler’s : Leo , Raph , Donnie & Mikey

Itteration: written as 2003 but it can be imagined as any itteration <3

Words: 1,014

“I’m telling you, the origional star trek series is way better than the next generation !!” Mikey attempted to grab the remote from your hand, yet you managed to lift it just out of place for him to not be able to reach it.

“You’re only saying that because its nostalgic.” You fought back.

Everyone in the lair loved watching movies and old shows. Especialy on saturday when you had no school/work. Its become a tradition where you would buy the best candy in New York City and you and your strange little green friends would choose a show or a movie to watch (and eventually fall asleep to).

You had, for good reason, chosen to watch Star Trek: The Next Generation, but the orange masked turtle himself was begging to watch the origional series.

“If we are gonna watch something Star Trek related, we have to watch the origional!” Mikey tried to jump to the controler but you managed to slip past him with the remote.

“Geez, Mikey. Can’t we just watch the origional series next saturday?” Donnie, who was sitting next to both of you and had to deal with most of the pushing and play fighting, spoke up with a sigh.

“Pshh, kids.” Raph, who was next to Donnie again, rolled his eyes.

Leo was standing behind the couch, standing over all of them with a small smile on his face. It was always humerous with you around. “I don’t have a say in this, but the nostalgia of the origional series hits hard.”

“Exactly!” Mikey cheered before looking back at you with a threatening look. “Now, give me that remote…”

You decided to see just how far he would go to get this remote. “You gonna fight me for it?” You said, knowing full well the youngest turtle wouldn’t even think of hurting a hair on your body.

“Oh, you asked for it…” Mikey slowly crawled himself towards you.

There was no way Mikey would actually hit you… right? Over a remote? Over a joke?

Thats when you saw that grin. That cheeky little grin on his face. A grin that basically told itself what would happen.

But before you could react any further, Mikey jumped on top of you, holding your right hand above your head, the hand that held the remote, and sitting on your legs.

Instead of grabbing the remote, which he could’ve easily grabbed by now, he pinched your sides.

No way. No how. You had never told the turtles about your ticklishness before because you were horrified they would discover your snort…

“Nohoho- snort Wahahait!!”

Shit. It had only been a second and you were already snorting.

You felt Mikeys hand thankfully pull away in an instant, but when you opened your eyes, you saw all four of the turtles. Staring at you.

No way this was happening.

Donnie seemed intrigued, you could basically see how much he wanted to smile just by looking into his eyes. Raph had raised an eyebrow whilst grinning at you. He thought it was hilarious how embarrassed you seemed. Leo just stood right over you holding back a chuckle from just how adorable your snort was, whilst Mikey; oh, this guy was glowing.

His smile seemed to grow ten times its size and he had a new glimmer in his eyes.

Your face quickly turned into a crimson red, pretty much resembling Raph’s mask, as you covered your face with your hands. “Oh god…” you muttered.

“Whahat was that?” Mikey held back his excitement whilst asking a question he already knew the answer to.

“If you-” you huffed, not knowing what to say. “That- you- you didn’t hear that. That was… wh- that was your imagination.” You felt your face glowing red. Even though you tried to cover it, it seemed like he redness was glowing through your hands.

“That was ADORABLE !!” Mikey squealed.

Wait… what?

“I didn’t know you were capable of doing that.” Donnie grinned, finding your snorting fascinating (as Spock would say).

“Wh- no its not cute, its embarrassing!” You managed to sit up, still partly covering your face.

Leo placed a hand on your sholder, causing you to flinch a bit. “Embarrassing? You haven’t even heard Raph yet.”

“Hey…” Raph grunted in a low tone.

“Besides, i wanna hear that cute laugh again.” Leo said as he wiggled his fingers across your side.

Did they really find your laughter cute? “Whahat?”

“Yeah, that was adorable!” Donnie added, sitting next to you and smiling.

Mikey nodded excitedly. “Yeah, you shouldnt be embarrassed of your laugh. Especially since its so cute!!”

Raph cracked his knuckles. “Oh, we’re totally doin’ this.” He spoke, still in a low tone, but more teasing this time. “Get ‘em!” Raph shouted as Mikey held your legs to stop you from kicking around whilst repeatedly squeezing your thigh, causing you to scream out laughing and snorting. Raph was sitting on the floor, digging one of his hands into your hips and the other into your stomach.

Donnie and Leo didn’t hold back either. Leo held both your hands above your head with one hand and ised the other one to scribble along your side whilst Donnie attacked your ribs.

“WAHAHA- snort WHAHAIT!! I CAHAHA- snort snort CAHAHANT!!” As much as you wanted to die from the embarrassment, knowing that the turtles found it cute made you less insicure about it and it actually made you feel happy as well. It was a tickle session you actually enjoyed.

“You can’t?” Mikey asked the question that wasn’t a question. “Too bad!”

“Yeah, thats right!” Donnie cheered on, loving the sound of your snorting and laughing. “You’re not going anywhere!”

“This might just be better than binge watching old shows,” Raph said. “We should do this every Saturday instead.”

“NE- snort NEHEHEVER!!”

You knew you couldn’t get out. I mean, they have been training since they were pretty much babies! No way you would ever get out of this.

In your mind you sighed cause you knew you were going to be here for a while.

[toomuchracket]

Mads I have this concept in my mind. I see it with d word Matty. I think beginning of the relationship, maybe Matty is supposed to be away for a couple of days so girlie is having a self maintenance night. I imagine her with her hair up to have heat less curl, self tan, maybe some pimple patches. And then Matty surprises her by coming back early, maybe she's waiting for her food, she opens the door and it's Matty. She's super embarrassed/self conscious but of course he's super chill about all of it.

this inspired me to write a lil fic! seeing it as set after candlelight, but before any d words or l words were used lol. enjoy! <3

i've been dying to meet you (d word matty x reader fluff)

the doorbell rings just as you're applying your under-eye patches. you don't rush to get it, though - the drivers know to just leave your food order at the door to your flat once you've buzzed them up. god forbid anyone sees you like this, after all, in the midst of your thursday night routine; you probably look insane, wandering around in your dressing gown and slippers, hair wrapped around a pair of tights and clipped up, face covered in sheet mask and pimple patches, respectively.

but you feel good. and you'll look good tomorrow. which is imperative, given that you’ll see your boyfriend (it still feels weird being able to say that, honestly) for the first time in 20 days.

the thought of that has you slightly giddy. humming happily, you dance through the flat towards the door, only pausing in the living room to click play on the next episode of sex and the city and have a sip of your wine. the mouthwatering scent of your dinner seeps into the hallway, growing stronger as you near the door - it's never quite been so potent before, but then again, you’re fucking starving. 

still humming tunelessly, you open the door to grab your food, and come face to face with matty.

your breath catches in your throat in horror - he can't see you like this, so soon into the relationship! - but your heart swells at the sight of your boyfriend in his hoodie and sweats, your (open!) takeaway in his hands. he grins when he sees you, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance; you tense up in preparation of him taking the piss out of it.

he doesn't, though. “hi, baby,” matty says softly. “stole one of your prawn crackers - hope you don't mind.”

you blink. “how- how did you get up here? you didn't buzz.”

“offered to hold the door for the delivery guy and just came in after him. and then i offered to bring this up when i asked if it was for your flat and he said yeah. felt like i was 22 again, honestly, in my old job,” your boyfriend smiles. “although i can safely say i never ever delivered a takeaway to someone as hot as you back then.”

“don't make fun,” you groan, stepping to the side to let him into the flat - he kisses your temple as he passes you - and kicking the door shut. “nobody was meant to see me tonight. s'why i asked them to ring the doorbell and just leave the food without me answering.”

“i did wonder why it took you so long to get to the door, darling,” matty calls over his shoulder as he wanders into your kitchen. he furrows his brow when you walk straight past and continue into your bedroom, laying the food on the counter and following you - well, until the door closes before him. “babe? are you… annoyed at me?”

“no, i'm just putting underwear on,” comes your muffled reply, followed by the sound of a drawer opening and closing.

“don't feel you need to do that on my account, sweetheart, i insist. actually, i'm more than happy to also get naked, if you prefer.”

despite your lingering shock at seeing him, you giggle at your boyfriend’s eager tone. “no, it's alright, matty.”

“you're sure? i've already got my shirt off.”

the speed with which you open your bedroom door at that phrase is almost embarrassing. matty - shirtless, as promised - smirks when you do. “i can't believe you had no pants on when you answered the door.”

you frown, flicking him on the stomach; he just laughs and follows you into the kitchen. “shut up, i couldn't put clothes on, i had just moisturised.”

“what, your arse and all?”

“mhmm.”

“interesting,” matty smirks again. “wouldn't mind seeing that process, to be honest.”

“for fuck's sake, matthew.”

“sorry, darling, couldn't resist,” your boyfriend grins. his face softens into a more tender smile. “just missed you, s'all. hope you don't mind that i came over early and interrupted your pamper night - couldn't settle at home, knowing you were only a few miles away for the first time in weeks.”

the sweetness of his revelation goes straight to your knees; you wrap your arms around his neck to hold yourself up, and press your lips to his in a tender kiss. it deepens when matty runs his tongue across your lips, slipping it into your mouth when they open, but that's as passionate as it gets - the overwhelming emotion behind the kiss is just sheer affection.

“i missed you too,” you kiss matty's nose when you pull away. “and you're not interrupting anything, really, s'just my usual thursday night routine,” you pull the little containers of food from the bag and turn to get a plate from the cupboard. “d'you want to split this with me? i ordered too much.”

matty nods, taking the plates from you and grabbing a fork from the drawer to dish the food up. “thanks, sweetheart. so, tell me more about this thursday night thing. you do this every week?”

“yeah, whenever i'm home, just to prep for the weekend. haven't you ever noticed i always look better at work on fridays?” you grin, pouring your boyfriend a glass of wine.

“not really. i think you look beautiful every day,” matty smiles, kissing your hand after you pass him the wine. “although i have noticed your hair is usually really curly during friday meetings. i like it.”

you point to your head. “blame this.”

“serious? i thought you were going to get a blow dry after work or something.”

“nah,” you giggle. “i just go to sleep with this in. feels a bit weird, but i like the end result.”

“so do i,” matty smiles. “you're so pretty, baby.”

your cheeks burn, and you smile bashfully at the floor. “well, when i take all these weird stickers off my face, maybe.”

“no, even now,” matty gently tilts your chin up so he can look you in the eye. “you’re beautiful. my perfect girl!”

he leans down to kiss you again; you giggle as he pulls away afterwards. “oh, you're down bad bad for me, aren't you? still thinking i'm pretty even when i've got pimple patches on.”

“well, yeah, i have eyes.”

“pretty ones, at that,” you rest your hand on his jaw, and he turns to kiss it. “i'm glad you came to see me tonight. would you like to stay over?”

“if i say yes, do i get to be pampered a little bit?” matty giggles.

“oh, i'll take care of you, don’t you worry, baby.”

[allthegothihopgirls]

Hc that Jason really resonated with Frankenstein’s monster after he came back from the dead and his terrorization of Bruce is, in part, inspired by the monsters terrorization of Victor

ok i'm gonna preface this by saying what the fuck anon (/pos). i've been talking about this concept since it popped into my inbox i'm actually OBSESSED.

clawing at the insides of my enclosure foaming at the mouth etc etc

anyways, 1000% YES. the whole thing of jason being put back together not only at the hands of another, but also in a way which is so so unfamiliar to the him he knew before death, soooo extremely frankenstein's monster-coded.

both brought to life by impossible circumstances, and neither feel as though they own their autonomy. searching for some kind of redemption, needing to feel complete or avenged.

both having a sense of justice, shunned by society, one which doesn't earn them praise but instead punishment and disgust. both resenting the decisions of their creators/mentors. torn between worlds, neither of which they feel accepted in. oh my GOD.

i'm a huge fan of the whole idea of jason coming back and feeling displaced and in an entirely foreign body, and that's just oh so frankenstein's monster..

like IMAGINE that being his frame of reference for his feelings. put together what feels like piece by piece, messily, with only second-hand scraps. all with no regard for the person he was before, only with the intentions of being 'repurposed'.. AHHHHH

(as well as the fact that it's ALL mental for jason, he comes back 'perfect', unscathed and replenished. he has no physical justification for feeling the way he does, second-hand and hand-sewn. his feeling of 'monstrosity' stems from elsewhere; the feeling he gets walking around in this body which is simply not his, or the look in bruce's eyes when he sees him again for the first time, seeing a monster not a son.)

also the conscious knowing that his make-up is no longer his own, he's composed of parts which are unrecognisable to his old body, the one he owned and hand-carved through age. having to walk through days, feeling his actions as his own, but having a body which warps the intent behind them to all onlookers.

god imagine, blaming your creator for your fate, and needing the answers of your inadequacy to come from him himself.. and no other source can explain your imperfection in a way you can accept, it has to be him. jason NEEDS bruce's validation, to confirm or deny that he is irredeemable and a lost cause.

as much as i don't think jason would take pride in relating so much to frankenstein's monster, it's definitely a lingering thought in the back of his mind, something that determines his own story and outcomes.

he thinks of him when he loses control, and knows that he can't use it to justify the way he acted. he cannot tell the monster that his actions were okay, and that the people just did not understand, although as much as he wants to.. because he knows that isn't the case. he knows the monster was always a monster, and grows to feel the same way about himself.

he resents the way he acts, because all he sees is the monster. the one who acts according to his moral compass, but is always wrong. always clouded by his monstrosity. he decides he really should never trust himself or his intuition, because it's always disgusting and ugly, and even he'll be able to look back in retrospect and be repulsed by the way he carried himself, and not hate the way everyone punished him for it.

he wants so desperately to get himself back, morph back into the boy who knew his rights and wrongs and was never looked at funnily for acting how any normal person would. but the only part of his past self that still exists is in his mind, he wants to rip it out and show people that it's still him inside of there, but he simply can't do that.

his body changed without his permission, he never asked to be an abomination, a scientifical anomaly. he wants to scream about how it's not his fault, how he's not what the world paints him to be. how he can just be normal. but he's never really going to feel that way, as long as his mind and body remain two separate entities at war.

i feel like he clings onto the humanity of frankenstein's monster, and uses him as an anchor, something that shows him it's possible to remain acceptable and human.

i also think he analyses the character oh so deeply, to try and latch onto all the relatability he can find, the things he doesn't get from real people.

maybe he has a copy of the book, annotated in such a personal way. perhaps someone else stumbles upon it, and is just so distraught by the conclusions drawn from the scribbles and highlights, the way jason seems to view himself.

the way that although jason's always seen himself like the monster, unloveable and unacceptable, everyone else was always ready to accept him.

that maybe the real downfall of jason and frankenstein's monster is that the way they viewed themselves was too focused on the displacement they felt, assuming automatically that everyone else must feel the same way about them, if not worse. not taking the moment to let people learn to love them all over again.

anyways, unreliable narrators post resurrection!jason todd and frankenstein's monster, who were always seen with at least an ounce of humanity, but were both overridden by self-hatred and the disgust of their form, which led them to total exile and isolation.

[hyukassubi]

🍪01 | Your Eyeliner Sucks But This Ceremony Doesn't

♡𓂃 Pairing -> (Former) Knight! Huening Kai x Seamstress! Reader

♡𓂃 Synopsis -> Growing up, you never believed in purpose, nor destiny. Simply following the path of life, becoming a royal seamstress didn't at all seem like a bad idea. Only thing is, it wasn't your idea.

Your best friend who just so happens to be the crowned prince knows what it's like to grow up having limited choices, and Prince Kang Taehyun doesn't want the same happening to you. The commander knight, in turn, has other plans for the future. After Huening Kai closes a profound chapter of his life, he seeks refuge from the chaos of his past, opting for a cozier lifestyle instead.

... And it just so seems that those plans wouldn't be fulfilled without you.

♡𓂃 Wc -> 851

Twenty-two years old, having been the Royal Seamstress for the last six years, expert hands when it comes to stitching and sewing together fabrics, beads, jewels, other materials others couldn’t possibly deem as ‘wearable’, crafting together the strongest bulletproof armors for hundreds of knights, and you still can’t do a perfect eyeliner wing.

Dipping, stroking, erasing on repeat for the past hour or so at the prince’s vanity but you can’t cry and rip your hair out because someone is on a stallion coming in from the east at a hundred miles an hour back home where he belongs.

Commander Knight Kai Kamal Huening is coming home, or Kai, for short.

Prince Taehyun, pink haired and silver-tongued, wearing that deep emerald green corset over his white flowy blouse and tight-fitting black leggings designed by none other than you, perched cross-legged on his cloud-soft silk-satin bed, blowing over his black-painted nails. “Y/n, stop.” How endearing of him, truly.

“Not until my eyes look like they can cut through fruits, dramatic and beautiful.”

Childhood best friends, the two of you were, which explains everything.

“Honey.” Taehyun said the word per syllable. “You already look dramatically beautiful without all that cakey face paint junk.” And that was the truth.

Your wing on your left eye had a higher arc than the one on the right, a slight tilt, a ten degree angle difference.

You can’t leave this room until you look like a model, there’s no way. Not after you pieced together an outfit just for this occasion.

You scrubbed that black ink right off. “Taehyun, I can’t unglue myself out of this vanity—”

“—my vanity—”

“—Until my look is complete. It’s a one time thing, okay? Kai’s coming home after like, what? A whole year? I have to look good for his ‘Welcome Back’ ceremony.”

Taehyun threw himself onto his bed completely, arms flailed, sighing, deep in thought.

Some part of Taehyun couldn’t believe this was real, then again, he feels hopeful. Having that burned hole in the trio filled again after all these years feels surreal, to say the least, but wasn’t that all he hoped for all those years ago? Kai’s quick and safe return? So that both you and him wouldn’t have to spend your days under the sun longing for his presence ever again?

You still had Taehyun, and Taehyun still had you. The prince had his seamstress, the seamstress had her prince… but perhaps the palace did feel a little less sunny, a little more spacious without the knight’s presence.

“I wonder if Kai had changed.” Taehyun stared blankly at the high ceiling of his elite bedroom, getting used to the view of an oil painted spring sky. “I wonder if he’d changed after his year-long quest of dragon slaying and all of that… God forbid they made him shave his head and grow a beard like all the other knights that my father have set on extreme voyages.”

You grimaced at the vivid imagination you had in your head, continuing on a more hopeful note, “I just hope he’s okay.”

“He can be bald and bearded up and still be okay.”

“I will actually rip the pink roots out of your hair.” Your left wing swooped the wrong way. Again. “Unless you have anything better to say, stop painting that picture in my mind.”

Taehyun chuckled and you hated how cute he has to look whenever his lips crease up into a smile like that. “Whatever you say love, whatever you say.” The prince can’t help but feel proud for raising his best friend to have a smart mouth, just like him. Perhaps not as sharp or quick-witted, but still an all rounder in sass. “Are you done, by the way? The entire kingdom is literally right outside the castle gates just… waiting… for us.”

“Waiting for Kai.” You corrected, reminding him that the main character of today is Kai Kamal Huening and not Prince Kang Taehyun. “I hope his ten thousand fangirls won’t trample over him and his pony once he arrives.”

“I doubt that'll happen, not when Kai will probably be trampling over you of all people.”

You closed off the half-full eyeliner container. “Taehyun, do my wings look decent?”

“More than decent.” He hopped out the bed onto his feet, walking to the door. “Now, come on, we've got a ceremony to attend to and a knight to meet.” He unlocked the wooden door to reveal a long hallway, as most castles do. “After you, Royal Seamstress.”

You curtsied, fanning your closed eye in the process. “You're very welcome, Prince Taehyun.”

Walking out of the prince’s room, your heels clicking on the marbled floor and down the set of stairs passing the prince’s bedroom and your design studio, the faintest cheer of a crowd from up ahead, your heart races just thinking about Kai’s return.

The last time he'll ever return.

Masterlist | Next

♡𓂃A/n: Taehyun being sassy. That's it. That's the author's note. (proofread this once and dipped but I hope everyone enjoyed this nonetheless! Taehyun may not be the love interest in this story but his sassy bestie energy is unmatched, solomons can't miss this.)

♡𓂃Tags: @imcringebutimfree @i-like-to-read-at-4am @pengningie @marloree

Reblog & review if you like my work !!

[my-little-delusions]

To the Ends of the Universe Pt. 2 - Dick Grayson x Reader

Pairings: Dick Grayson x Reader (Romantic), Bruce Wayne x Assistant!Pennyworth!Reader, Donna x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Death, cursing, violence, talk of self harm, talk of domestic abuse, talk of terminal illness and hospitals, experiments, smut (skippable)

(It's a long summary I know I'm sorry. Read it or don't.)

Summary: When you were 6 years old, you were diagnosed with a terminal illness. The doctors said there was nothing they could do, and your health would rapidly decline. You wouldn't live past 8 years old. Your parents refused to take that answer and decided to make their own cure for you. However, they couldn't stop there, they didn't just want to make you healthy, they wanted to make you super. Make sure nothing could put you in harms way ever again. After a faulty experiment when you were 10 years old, the lab they worked out of, killed your parents and left you a sole survivor.

When reports of a "super kid" loose on the streets reached Wayne Manor, Bruce picked you up. Alfred ended up adopting you legally, but when Bruce realized you had no control of your powers, he decided to train you. Teach you how to use your powers and keep them under control.

A year later Bruce adopted Dick. Growing up and Training side by side you and Dick were inseparable. Your crush on Dick, the cute guy you would with a year older than you, only got worse. As well as his protectiveness over you. Your relationship flourished and you two seemed unstoppable. But what happens when Dick convinces you to leave Gotham? Make a new life for yourselves all on your own.

Disclaimer: I am fully aware my timeline/numbers are screwy, don't think about it. This is based solely on the Titans show, it is definitely not comic accurate lol.

--------------------

"I wish I didn't have to leave you baby," Dick mumbles, his arms wrapped around my waist.

"Baby," I smile looking up at him amused, "We can't do this every morning. You need to go to work, you said you would commit to this,"

"I know," He groans, pulling away, "You know they keep trying to give me a partner, I don't want to work with anyone but you,"

"I already told you I am not joining the force, there is too much surveillance on the cops,"

"But-"

"No. Look, Dick, being the Green Jay with you and Bruce on occasion was fun, but it put too many targets on my head, I can't risk my powers getting linked to my identity. Even by the PD. I mean, can you even imagine what they would find if they drug-tested me?"

"You're right, you're right," Dick laughs, "I guess I just miss you is all, I'm not used to not seeing you all day every day you know," He says, placing a kiss on my lips.

"I miss you too," I say once I pull away, "How about when you get back tonight we have a night just to ourselves, alright?"

"Oh yeah?" He quirks, "Alright, I'll look forward to it.... Orrrr we could have right now to ourselves,"

"Oh my god just go to work," I smile, shoving him away a bit.

"Okay, okay," He throws his hands up in defeat, grabbing his keys and coat, "I'll see you when I get home."

--------------------

"HEY BABE!" Dick calls, his voice laced with concern and an assertiveness I haven't heard since Gotham.

Swiftly I hurry my way towards the staircase, worry coursing through my veins. However, once I reach the stairs I freeze.

There Dick is at the bottom of the stairs, his lips pulled tightly in a like and a girl tucked away behind him.

"Fuck," I whisper under my breath, running up to him and pulling him into a hug. Dick just stands there, his shoulders slouched in defeat.

Pulling away, my eyes scan all of his features, my eyes glossing over slightly. His hardened face softens as he looks at me.

"I'm gonna go pack our stuff." He says, his tone is serious again,

"Okay.." I say, following him with my gaze as he brushes past me, his fingers lingering on mine. "Hi," I say, facing the girl. Her head whips up. "I'm Y/N, what's your name?"

"Rachel"

--------------------

Dick opens the car door to pop open the trunk.

"This is yours?" Rachel asks as she steps into the garage.

"Family heirloom," Dick answers, tossing our luggage in.

I walk up to him, my back to Rachel. Reaching out my hand, I rub his arm through his jacket, attempting to comfort him.

"I'm sorry baby," I whisper to him, aware that Rachel is most likely listening, but at least whispering doesn't invite her to chime in, "I know you really wanted to avoid this sort of thing again."

He looks at me with a soft smile, reaching his and over and placing it on top of my hand on his arm.

"From the circus?" Rachel asks,

Dick chuckles, looking up from me to Rachel, "Not the one you're thinking. Come on let's go."

I adjust my posture from leaning on the car and walk to the passenger side.Opening the door, I lean in to u latch the front seat, revealing the small 2nd row of the car.

Giving Rachel a smile, I motion for her to get it, but she hesitates.

"We'll keep you safe, I promise,"

"That's not something you can promise," Rachel says to me before getting in the car anyway.

I push the front seat back into place and get in.

This feels like something we can't turn back from.

--------------------

The awkward silence in the car since we left the garage is slowly becoming unbearable. Tensions are high. I can practically feel the stress radiating off of dick.

Looking over at him, I can see his emotions plastered all over his face. It's a look I haven't had to see since we left Gotham. Exhaustion. Sadness. Anger. All of it.

My heart clenches and I reach over to Dick's free hand, pulling it over to my lap and holding it. Giving him reassuring squeezes throughout the drive every time I feel him tense.

"Where are we going?" Rachel finally speaks up,

"Somewhere safe," Dicks says, swallowing hard,

"My mom, says there's no such thing as monsters," Rachel turns her head to look out the window, "I think she was wrong."

--------------------

"Thank you," Dick says to the waitress, "You want a hot chocolate or something?"

"Just a coffee, black," Rachel says,

"I bet they have marshmallows," Dick smiles. My heart swells a bit as I look at him. I haven't seen many smiles like that from him in a long time. Definitely not in Gotham.

"I'm not a kid, okay?" Rachel snaps at him a bit,

"Rachel..." I say, with a bit of a warning tone, glancing at the waitress standing there awkwardly.

"Okay, same for the lady," Dick says and the waitress fills up Rachel's cup with a smile, gesturing to offer me some.

"I'm okay, thank you,"

The waitress gives me a smile before walking away.

"My mom didn't like me to drink coffee," Rachel says, reaching for the sugar and pouring a long steady stream of it into her cup.

Dick chuckles, "Sweet tooth, huh?"

Rachel says nothing.

"Rachel, has anything like.. like what happened happened before?"

"No, not like that," Rachel takes a deep breath, her voice growing shaky, "I didn't mean to kill that guy,"

"How did you kill that guy," Dick presses further, but Rachel only takes a sip of her coffee and stares off to the side. "We're gonna go see some old friends of ours," Dick glances at me, They're safe, they'll give us a place to lie low for a second, get our heads together. Give us some time to get our heads together."

"You're scared I get it," I say to Rachel, "But sometimes there's no time to be scared,"

And then.

Pain.

Blinding pain.

That's all I could feel.

It felt as if my head was boiling and my bones were freezing and cracking.

"Fuck." I say, my eyes squeezing shut my body beginning to curl in on itself. My hand reaches out to grip Dick's arms, gripping him hard, my nails digging into his forearm.

"Y/n? Baby? Hey, hey what's going on?" Dick's worried tone just barely breaking through the crackling noises sounding in my head. Opening my eyes, I can make out Dick's worried expression through my blurred vision, his brows furrowed, eyes wide, lips parted slightly.

"Dick?" I say, my voice is shaky as my vision begins to grow dark, my body becoming numb.

"Babe, come on, talk to me, what's happening right now?" Dick begins to tap my face lightly, trying to get me to wake up.

All of a sudden, it feels like my body is getting pumped with pure oxygen and I gasp loudly, drawing attention from.others in the restaurant.

My chest heaves and I look around the room frantically as Dick continues to stare me down with his worried expression.

Dick's hands cup my face, "Are you okay? What just happened right now?"

"I-I don't know," I say, "I think I'm okay... I'm okay"

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Authors Note: This fic really is for the girls who just wanna take care of the poor baby. :/

Request Open!

(If there's anything specific you want to see in this story as well, just comment it, I am open to suggestions)

Lemme know if you wanna be on the taglist

[lino1vr]

BLIND LOVE ( 이희승 )

୨ৎ lee heeseung x fem!reader . g fluff

୨ৎ first post!!

i can’t seem to get over the question, “is there a such thing as true love?”

my one true love. no memories yet there’s something about him. something that i believe, no, something i think we both believe was true. every night i go to bed, every day i wake up with faint visions of a perfect man i’ve always wanted.

i could say that i walked past a few but no one has had the same impact, the same longing feeling that i feel when i see him. i paint, and paint everyday. everyday a new man but everyday i see the same face. who is he? who is that one man that i long for, that i wish to grow old with. i know he’s there, and i know who he is, just never where. i can sense his presence, always, but today has been the strongest feeling since. i can’t seem to remember but distant memories and an indefinite feeling that i am alone without him, grow.

is he there? or is he not? i can’t possibly seem to figure out. am i hallucinating? is he the perfect figure of my imagination.

i work multiple jobs just to pay for the hospital fees of my beloved friend, heeseung who had fallen into a car accident causing his blindness.

he was soft spoken, quiet, polite handsome. every day i hear these imaginative tales he tells me about his one true love.

describing her features, her lovely personality and how he longed for his vision just to take a look at the gorgeous girl he dreamed of every day, and every night. i couldn’t help but wonder who it was, he wouldn’t tell me anything besides describe her in beautiful poetry, and stories. his one prized possession, painting. although blind his strokes are of perfection, and he paints and paints just one thing. a mirror.

once many have told me that we would look perfect together but i couldn’t believe it, yet i can’t help but wonder if his one true love is me. look into the mirror he tells me and i’ll see his true love. i keep looking and staring to figure out who it is, yet i can’t seem to find out.

he says its there, he says i must keep looking for the deep meaning of the painting. maybe i’m just oblivious, maybe i cant understand but what does that mirror mean?

everyday i visit heeseung catching glimpses of him painting his art, whispering his prayers of finally being able to see his one true love. i hope that comes true for him, if it can’t happen to me.

once too did i imagine for my happily ever after, my love as i hoped ever since a young child. who is this man i dream of? i kepe being told to look in front of me. i’m looking god, i really am. i cannot recall back the memories from before. what does fate want me to see if i can’t even work out a simple wish.

everyday i know heeseungs condition is getting worse, he’s getting weaker, i can feel it. i can sense it when i stare at him and his voice. his painting strokes have gotten weaker, and his mirror fades as he stops painting. his heart rate decreases every day. thump. thump. thump. “please. anything for heeseung.”

his painting has been fading. i can see it wearing out, i can see the faint lines of his tracings yet he still tells me to look for it, i just don’t understand.

time passes, heeseung gets older, he gets weaker. and i’m just there. holding my hands i can feel myself burning up, my face is completely red. what am i? am i really his true love? did i really just recognise my true feelings? it can’t be. i’m sure of it. my thoughts are interrupted.

thump. thump. … thump. it’s decreasing, his heart rate, i can see it dropping down. his palms are shaking and i pick up the phone to call the doctor yet he chooses to push it away from my hands. “i- i don’t need the doctor, i’m happy this way.” he pulls me close, using his remaining strength to whisper to me in a soft spoken tone.

“my wish for you is for you to finally understand that your love has been here the whole time, don’t you understand?” the mirror, look at the mirror. only you’ve seen the painting, only you’ve looked at the mirror.

“don’t you get what it means?”

“my love, it’s always been you.”