#not as in shes innocent but as in none of them are and for all misty's 'boo shauna accept responsibility for once!!!' her tai and mel are

[xiaberryy]

“i look like i got beat up, Caleb.” she deadpanned as she looked at her reflection.

adolescence comes with the joyful but difficult journey of self-discovery. they observe, learn, and mimic their surroundings. she wasn’t an exception from her peers who are obsessing over their looks, wanting to enhance their beauty with make up products.

however, she still lacks skill in that department and who else she’d go to if not the jack of all trades?

“i just followed the tutorial, Pip-squeak..”

however, it seemed like the jack hasn’t mastered this trade yet. after all, her soft cheek was dabbed too thickly with an awful shade of red and her eyelids were painted with poorly blended pink eyeshadow.

both teens sighed in unison. in the background, the youtube video continued to play but none of them wanted to pay attention to this woman who they deemed terrible at giving tutorials.

“don’t worry, i’ll figure this out somehow, okay?” Caleb smiled reassuringly while patting the younger girl’s head.

he never once let her down. so, with eyes glimmering with trust and hope, she nodded, “okay!”

the next day rolled around and he’s ready to tackle this top mission. he spent yesterday noon to night, surfing the internet for makeup tutorials, best makeup type for different face shapes, etc.

“you seem confident,” she smiled at him as she sat down.

Caleb took a hair tie and grabbed a handful of her hair, “well, confidence comes from skill,”

“oooh, are you a professional makeup artist now?” a cheeky grin was plastered on her face as she stared at his reflection in the mirror.

after he tied her hair with the right amount of tightness, he grabbed hair clips to make sure no hair covered her pretty face in the process, “i’m pretty sure i got the basics down but you can be the judge of it later, Pip-squeak,”

the first thing Caleb did was gently prep her skin. as he did, he couldn’t help but notice how incredibly soft her skin was and how delicate her facial features were.

it didn’t take long for it to dry. he began dabbing cushion foundation over her skin. seeing her face in such close proximity, his heart began to race.

she’s already so perfect, does she really need this? a frown appeared on his face without him noticing.

the girl stared at him through her long eyelashes before letting out a stifled giggle. he huffed softly while smiling, “what got you all giggly, hm?”

she teasingly poked his lower lip, “you’re frowning,”

her touch made his movements halt. he raised his eyebrows and pulled the corner of his lips into a lopsided smile. the chair creaked lightly as he rested his hands on the armrests and leaned closer.

“can’t promise i’ll stay professional if you keep poking me like that, dear client,”

she giggled while backing away, “oh no, that’s unacceptable. please continue with the service,”

a soft amused huff left him. he grabbed a brow pencil and twirled it around his slender fingers, “close your eyes for me,”

she tilted her head, “why? you’re doing my brows, not my eyes,”

his hand caressed the side of her face. it was an instinct of hers to press her cheek closer to feel the warmth better. “can’t focus with those pretty eyes lookin’ at me, y’know,” he chuckled.

a knowing smile spread on her face before she complied, “okay, then,”

Caleb filled in her eyebrows while admiring the sight of her face. he was glad she had her eyes closed, otherwise she’d see the lovestruck expression he had.

“what are we doing after my brows? my lips perhaps?” she playfully pursed those plump lips of hers.

it was an innocent question, but she had no idea how he almost leaned down and gave her a big fat smooch.

how could anyone blame him? she had her eyes closed and lips pursed, his sweet girl needed to be kissed!

when she felt the lack of movement on her face, she took it as a sign to open her eyes. the sight which greeted her was his back facing her.

she blinked in confusion, “Caleb? are we done?”

meanwhile, Caleb was pressing his palm over his heated face, trying to calm his racing heart which was ready to burst.

he dragged his hand across his face and sighed deeply, “i..need to go to the bathroom. hold on.”

without waiting for her response, he bolted to the bathroom with a speed that got her scratching her head in wonder if he really needed to pee that badly.

unknown to her, Caleb was literally dumping his head into a bucket full of water to cool down. it seems like there’s another victim of adolescence hardships aside from her.

[mistressofthemanor]

masterofthemanor

Unfazed, he held her gaze with determination, more so once she'd narrowed her eyes, silently signalling to him that she didn't agree with what he'd said, thus she'd share her own views and set him right. It was a clear indication that would have worked wonders on others as it'd have enforced them to be careful with their words if not rendered them speechless at once, however, he was in an advantageous situation, for he not only known her and had a vague idea about just how far he could go and how much she'd tolerate before having enough, but challenging her in that way had always been something he'd found immense joy in as she was rather quick on her feet and always managed to bite back, if not defeat him with her own witty response, further proving her intelligence and sly nature, which were some of her attributes he'd fell hopelessly in love with. Darling - she purred back to him with cool confidence, the chuckle she'd repressed evident in her voice, and at once, his heart begin fluttering as he'd found her to be exceptionally alluring in that moment. "Quiet?" He breathed back, arching a brow skeptically at her, for no matter which one of those particular mornings he'd recalled, none of them were silent- not after she'd finally given in to his pleas and he'd triumphantly taken his prize and made love to her, however he didn't say more than that, but devoted his undivided attention to her and allowed her to express herself, though, he couldn't help, but swipe his thumb across her back in a continuous motion and caress her like that during her monologue. Had she allowed him to respond, he'd have surprised her as instead of topping what she'd said, he'd have simply admitted to having been guilty of tempting her and capturing her in his arms quite a few times, keeping her from tending to her duties as well as taking those much needed minutes away from himself to get ready for work, however she'd drawn her own conclusion, which he immediately reflected on. "I know that" He replied with a fond smile without ever breaking the eye-contact, perfectly aware of the fact that those lazy mornings had been equally pleasant and wholesome for the both of them. "Whatever was my excuse for that day, you've always had a better reason to give in and curl up against me" He pondered, always having tried his best to come up with a good or at least creative reason to convince her not to leave their bed, however, after a certain point he'd run out of plausible excuses, yet she'd always taken part in his games, allowed him to convince her and crawled back next to him, just because she secretly - or not so secretly - loved him and loved snuggling up against him regardless of whether those cuddles remained innocent or evolved into something more.

“Oh, is that how you remember it," she said in a soft tone, allowing her palm to flatten lightly against his chest, fingers idly toying with his collar as if she was distracted, which was not the case. Her voice carried just enough amusement to soften the edge of the challenge, though her eyes, cool and brilliant, remained locked on his without wavering. “You make you sound so terribly romantic, which you were… and me terribly easy, which I was not.” Her smile grew, delicate but pointed, the way only she could manage without ever raising her voice. “And I let you, of course, play the game” she added lightly, lifting one shoulder in a small shrug. “Not because your arguments were so persuasive—though I admit they were often creative—but because it was never really a question of logic, was it?” Her hand trailed from his chest to his collarbone, her touch just enough to distract without derailing her point. “You knew exactly what you were doing,” she continued smoothly. “You knew that all it took was the right tone, the right look, and I’d give in. Not because I lacked discipline—but because I knew what waited for me if I stayed.” She tilted her head, smile lingering like a ghost of the past. “So yes, Lucius. I curled up beside you because I wanted to." And then, with a quiet breath, her hand slid down to intertwine with his once more as her voice softened, “You should know by now—love was always my reason. And if I gave in to you, it was only because I knew I’d be safe there.”

Bones of Contention

[theshiniestgemstone]

reader wears one of his old shirts to bed and he short circuits. she has no idea it’s driving him feral. he’s like “don’t bend over like that” and she’s like “like what?” 💀

summary: love this idea, thank you for submitting it anon! <3

warnings: allusions to sex, nothing explicit, kissing

Gideon had been lingering, hovering just out of your view, his eyes always a step ahead of where you were, tracking your every move. He hadn’t said much, he didn’t need to. His presence was enough, and he knew it. He knew how his quiet attention turned the simplest things into something more.

Now, here you were, casually slipping on one of his old shirts to wear to bed. It was just one of those loose, well-worn ones that still smelled faintly of him. You had no idea what it did to him, how the sight of you in something so familiar, something that belonged to him, was enough to short-circuit his brain.

You turned around to get under the covers, bending over just slightly to pull them up, and that was when he snapped.

"Don’t bend over like that," Gideon’s voice cracked through the silence, low and tight, almost a growl.

You straightened up, a little confused. “Like what?”

His eyes were burning holes into you now, no longer just lingering but fixed, tracking every inch of you like you were his favorite puzzle to figure out, piece by piece. His jaw clenched, his hand gripping the doorframe so tightly it was a wonder the wood didn’t splinter. He wasn’t quite sure how to explain what he was feeling, what he was desperately trying not to feel.

You had no idea the power you held over him right now. The way that shirt hung on you, the way you moved in it, so casual, so innocent. Every little movement felt like it was made just to tempt him, to pull him closer to the edge.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure, but his eyes betrayed him. “Just... don’t.”

You tilted your head, still none the wiser to what was going on in his head. “What, you don’t like it?”

His expression darkened, and he took a step closer, voice barely above a whisper now. “No. I- fuck, I like it. Too much.”

You smiled, a teasing glint in your eye as you watched him carefully. “Then what’s the problem?”

The tension crackled in the air between you, but before he could respond, you leaned over again, this time on purpose, giving him a good view of everything he was trying so hard to ignore.

Gideon’s breath hitched, and you could see it in the way his hands flexed, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out but couldn’t. He was torn between wanting to stay in control and wanting to just give in to whatever this was.

“Fuck,” he drawled, his voice rough, barely holding onto the thin thread of control he had left. Before you could even register his movement, he had you caged in between his toned arms, the heat of his body pressing against yours. You barely had time to react before his lips were at your neck, kissing you in soft, desperate bursts.

You shivered, the suddenness of it making your pulse race. His lips moved down, tasting your skin like it was the first time, like he couldn’t get enough. Every kiss was heavier, more urgent, as if the mere idea of you wearing his shirt was unraveling him thread by thread. His hands roamed, skimming over the fabric of your shirt, his fingers curling into the material like he wanted to pull you closer, if that was even possible.

“You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” His voice was low, barely more than a growl, as his lips found your ear, nibbling softly.

You shook your head, unable to form words, all your attention consumed by the feel of his body against yours, his breath mingling with yours, and the way his hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of you.

His grip tightened as he pulled you closer, his chest pressed flush against your back now, the heat from his body searing through the thin fabric. “Don’t tease me,” he muttered into your ear, his voice a dangerous mix of pleasure and warning. “You’re gonna drive me crazy if you keep doing this.”

You glanced back over your shoulder, meeting his heated gaze in the dim light. “What? You want me to take it off?” You teased, knowing exactly how to push him, how to make him lose that last bit of restraint he was holding onto.

His eyes darkened, and without another word, he spun you around to face him, his hands going straight to your waist as he backed you up against the bed. “I think I'd like to see you keep it on,” he said, his lips barely brushing yours before he kissed you deeply, urgently, as if he were trying to consume you.

[imagine-darksiders]

Anon ,this was so beautiful and eloquently written, Golgoth my new BELOVED!

You have a real talent for writing, and I hope you continue to do so! Taking your advice and copying your story so I can put it under a 'read more.'

The original writing prompt

Below was written by Anon, please give it a read if you have the time, it's very good and wholesome!

-----------------------

Of all the universal truths, the inevitable realities that bleed down the bloodline of mankind, this one you know for certain: the strong oppress the weak.

Unfortunately for you, the latter best describes your tribe.

But what can you expect from humble fishers and farmers? From women weavers and little toddling weaners? An army born and raised to conquer and defend? A fortress as formidable as the Cahaya mountain that looms over your little valley?

One wishes it were so in times such as have been.

But wishing does nothing to keep the small band of Vulkars from randomly raiding your village, taking what little harvest is left and leaving with more and more of your people.

Now, with only a fortnight before the first frost, there remains only the dying elderly, the weather-worn mothers with their babes still suckingly their breasts, the frail and feeble children, and you.

The only young virgin to be left behind. 

Since many years ago, fire had burned the right side of your face and neck, claiming both that eye and what beauty you had. None were at fault. It was fate alone that cursed you.

And because of your curse, when you reached marrying age, none would have you.

But as there are two sides to your face, there are two sides to your curse, and in spite of the shame you feel, you are grateful it has spared you the doom of your tribal sisters at the hand of the Vulkars.

Only now it seems a far more despairing doom lies before you. 

For last night, it was agreed among the elders that if the tribe was to survive the winter, much less another Vulkar raid, there was only one hope left, only one who could save them. 

Golgoth, the god of war and blood.

There is not much that you, or anyone else, knows about Golgoth. Your tribe trifles not with higher beings. Only in times of greatest need does your people call upon them, requesting aid in exchange for the offering required. 

Golgoth is no different.

Inscribed in one of the stone tablets that has been preserved through the generations, there is a passage that speaks of how to summon Golgoth. The ancient language is known only by a few elders, and even then, not all is easily understood. But they have interpreted tells that one must give their hand in blood in return for his aid. 

So it was decided that one should travel to the peak of Cahaya to perform the ritual, seeing how the mountain stood nearest to the heavens and its distance from the village would improve its chance of escaping the god’s wrath should he find the sacrifice displeasing.  

And of all those left who could be chosen, it was you. 

Because of course it was. The elderly are too feeble to make the journey, and the children likewise. As for the able-boodied mothers, they have already given themselves to a man and are no longer innocent.

And everyone knows that war lusts most for innocent blood.

“There is no other option,” they told you.

And you know they are right.

It is why you willingly spent the waning hours of darkness repeating the summoning spell, committing the foreign words to memory. 

(Each repetition a strand in the rope wrapping around your neck.)

It is why at daybreak, despite your aged mother’s tearful begging for you, her only daughter, to abandon the task, you turned your back to her.

(She never saw the tear sliding down the pale of your cheek.)

It is why you swallow back your hunger and thirst, pushing yourself to keep pace as you climb higher and higher up the mountain.

(No need to pack provisions when you will not live past dusk.) 

You repeat the weighty words under your breath as you ascend, only for them to be drowned by the howling of the wind. 

You cannot afford to forget them.

You cannot afford to fail. 

Halfway through your journey, the eastern light rises overhead, its heat barely noticeable this high up. The wind hounds you even harder, barking at your heels and biting through your thin skin. Without the thick, white fur of the eshoka covering you from head to foot, you would perish before you could make it to the top.

But make it to the top you do, collapsing face down onto the ground, weary to the bone.

Up here snow has already fallen. Though its powdery flakes cushion your exhausted body, their chill does little to comfort you. At least you do not feel it on your disfigured cheek.

Sleep beckons you, and though you know it seduces you to your death, still it tempts you.

After all, you are destined to die here anyway.

Only when you remember the lives at stake- of your precious mother, of the struggling survivors, of those enslaved and tortured by the Vulkars- only then do you find the strength to sit up and face your fate. The western light hangs just above the horizon before you, painting you in its deep red rays.  

With frostbitten fingers, you remove your mitten and take the jagged knife from your belt.

You must do it.

They are all counting on you. 

There is no other option. 

. . .

 Breathe in and grip the knife.

. . . 

Press the blade to your right palm.

. . .

Hold the icy air in your lungs, and then . . . 

“A-ah! -a-ah . . . nnn-” you stifle your whimper, though there is no one to hear.

The flesh is numb from the cold, but not numb enough. Tears threaten to blur your only seeing eye, but you blink them back and force your eye open, exposing it to the stinging wind. 

You look. The cut trails from your pointer to your wrist. Down runs your bright red lifeforce, dripping onto the snow. 

It’s . . . mesmerizing, in a way.

You take a breath, recentering your focus on the task at hand. Bowing your head, your hair falls over your scarred side like a golden veil. Purple chapped lips utter the powerful words, the swirling wind carrying them to the skies.  "Uzgon Golgoth ver riskle panar." Golgoth, I give my hand for yours.

You hear the wind wailing louder, like a shrill woman shrieking in the air.

"Uzgon Golgoth ver riskle panar."

You lift up your eyes to see ashen clouds blocking out the sun. 

"Uzgon Golgoth ver riskle panar."

You feel colder, though from lack of light or blood loss, you cannot tell. Trepidation grips your heart in its fangs, squeezing what little strength you have from you, until your voice weakens to a whisper. You wish the snow would swallow you whole.

"Uzgon . . . G-golgoth ver- ver riskle . . . p-panar . . ."

Static prickles your skin . . . he is coming.

"Uzg-g-gon-"

A crack of lightning descends a few measures across from you and you shriek, flailing onto your back.

You lie for a moment, stunned from the shock but otherwise unharmed.

Groaning, you push yourself up on your uncut hand, the other clutched close to your chest. You squint with your good eye, your scarred one still hidden beneath your hair. Your vision finally focuses and then . . .

. . . your heart stops. 

Before you stands a being unlike anything you have ever seen before. 

He is as tall as he is wide, with legs and arms thicker than your entire body, and shoulders as broad as two barrels. Most of him is dressed in coal-colored leather and adorned with animal skulls, teeth, and other bones. What is not covered reveals reddish skin.  

Yet it is not his imposing figure that draws your attention, but his bowed head.

Hair as dark as dried blood, thick and shaggy, wraps around his jaw to his ears, while the rest runs down the neck like a mane. His ears are pointier than any humans, though not as pointed as the two bull horns above them. Stranger yet, an animal skull rests atop his crown, its boney jaw attached to his protruding one. The skull’s four large fangs frame his face, while his own mouth sports its own two small tusks.

For all that resembles a human, he feels more beast than man to you.

Meanwhile you feel little more than a twig to be stepped on, or prey to be snatched and torn to shreds. Like prey, a primal part of you believes that if you do not move, he will not see you.

But of course, that sliver of hope is stripped from you as he lifts his head.

His eyes  . . . they are filled with living flames, burning bright like firelight . . . 

 . . .  and they are staring right at you.

You stare back, frozen from fear and the frigid air. You notice not how the wind has dwindled to a soft breeze, nor how your nails dig into your open skin. You are wholly consumed by his otherworldly gaze.

The silence, tense and terrifying, remains untouched until . . .

“Urtz-baugsh-detsh fileen . . .” he mutters, his hushed voice as deep as- no, deeper than thunder.

His speech sounds similar to the ancient tongue you just used, but its meaning is unknown to you, thus you utter nothing back. You are not sure you could even if you wanted to.

The giant god thumps a fist against his chest and speaks again, clearly addressing you, “Bsktly oogn py fnells shishtar Golgoth.”

Again, you give no reply.

Bushy brows furrow for a moment, then his eyes widen. He shakes his head and mumbles more ancient words, perhaps with an . . . annoyed tone?

“Forgive me,” he speaks, now in your language, yet you flinch, “you spake in that tongue, I assumed you knew it. I see I was wrong. Do you understand now?”

You find your voice still has not returned, so you nod. 

Golgoth’s eyes brighten at that, his features relaxing. In fact, it almost appears as though he is . . . smiling. It's . . . not as malicious as you imagined a smile from the god of war and death would be.

“AH! Very good! I shall speak it again,” he says, thumping a fist once more, his chest bulging forward. “HARK! Here stands I, Golgoth.” 

You are well aware of that, though part of you seems hesitant to believe that this is the real Golgoth.

For surely the real Golgoth, god of war and blood, would scowl and demand you bend to his will with a bellowing voice that would blast you to dust. 

Yet . . . this Golgoth does nothing but stand patiently, awaiting a reply or reaction. 

When both your silence and awe-struck terror do not change, he prompts you with, “Who stands before me?” Then stroking his beard, he adds thoughtfully, “Though should I say lies before me . . .” 

You know not why such a being cares to know your name, but you dare not refuse him. 

You swallow before weakly stuttering it.

He repeats the name, your name, his voice as soft as a mother shushing her newborn.

His mouth widens again, and this time you are certain it is a real, genuine smile. “Do you freely give your hand to me? Do you receive mine in return?”

Your heart quivers, yet you cannot have him doubt your sincerity. You stiffly move to sit on your knees, shifting the snow. You present your bloody blue fingertips. 

“I do,” you quietly, but steadily reply.

His brows raise. “AH HA! I see you have already prepared your hand for binding.” Before you can panic over having misstepped, he continues, “I too am just as eager, for long have I awaited this day.”

Golgoth takes one hulking step forward and bends his knee to the earth, like a great tree falling in the forest. You tremble under his focus, his brow pinched as he strokes his beard again. You hold your breath. 

“Hm, you are quite small. You cannot become bigger, can you?” he asks.

You blink. “n….no?”

“Then I shall become smaller,” he decides, closing his eyes.

And then . . . to your complete and utter bafflement . . . Golgoth begins to shrink, his mammoth body growing smaller and smaller, until he’s but the size of a large man. Though his new height does not make him any less intimidating, you do feel less like you are about to be squashed.

He opens his eyes again, the flames inside dancing with mirth and mischief. “You did not know I could do that, did you?”

You snap your mouth shut and dip your head, abashed.

“HA! In time, you will find all that I can do.” he says, but as mysterious as his words are, you pay them no mind.

Your attention is drawn to his hands (both still twice the size of yours). With the tip of his right finger, sharper than a talon, he presses into the flesh of his other palm. Tough, leathery skin, like the bark of a tree, punctures under its deadly point. 

Out oozes his blood, thicker than yours and bright as sickle wine. Distracted by the sight, you do not see Golgoth reaching for your wounded hand. You yelp in surprise, then bite your tongue, forcing yourself not to pull away. 

Though you doubt you could; his grip is gentler than you’d expected, but firm enough you cannot escape.

“One drop. One soul. One eternity,” he rumbles, holding his fist over yours.

You watch helplessly as a drop of his blood falls into your open flesh.

First you gasp . . . 

. . . and then you scream.

Fire is no stranger to you. You will never forget the feel of its flames on your face. But this . . . this fire viciously racing through your veins, melting your muscles, searing your sinews, burning within your very bones . . . 

This is not a fire you will survive. 

Yet your heart continues to pump wildly, mixing his boiling blood with your own, drowning you in wave after wave of agony. 

You need it to consume you. 

You need the fire to turn you to ash. 

You need it to end.

And end it does, though slowly, settling like the deep water after a storm. The fire ebbs and flows, until it fades to a candle’s flame, and you are left on the shore, struggling to breathe in raw, ragged breaths.

But you are breathing. 

You are alive.

And you are no longer cold. 

“Finally . . .” sighs Golgoth, his voice vibrating through your whole being, bringing back your awareness.

Though your blood still simmers, you regain your bearings and look up at him. His fiery eyes flicker in time with your heartbeat. Their glow burns with an emotion so raw and passionate, you must be imagining it.

“Now your blood is mine,” he hums, the seal of your fate.“You are mine.”

Your heart quickens, which you attribute to fear . . . until you feel the curve of your ears warming. 

You glance down, thankful he cannot see them. You do not dwell on the cause, however, as your gaze lands on your cut. The wound . . . it has closed, and while still smeared with blood, it is little more than a pink line that will surely scar.

You will mind it not, for what harm is there in one more?

Curious to see if Golgoth’s wound has healed likewise, you look just in time to catch him . . . well . . .

. . . licking it. 

He notices your gaze and freezes, his broad, bovine-like tongue stuck to his hand like a youngling tasting an icicle. Eyes wide, your ears heat once more. Gologth pulls back his tongue and gives you a cheeky grin, his lidded eyes burning a deeper orange.

“Do you wish me to lick yours as well?” he asks and- oh, oh dear!

Your cheeks, they flush fiercely at that, but you just as aggressively shake your head no.

Golgoth throws his head back and bellows out with booming laughter, causing you to recoil as much as you can with your hand still in his.

“HA! You are a shy one!” he exclaims, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear. He leans in close, the scent of blood strengthens from distinct to staggering.  A hand starts to reach for your face. “I like that you are shy.”

His words are lost on you, for the moment the tip of his claws brush the hair covering your scar, you jerk your head away, eyes squeezed shut.

“W-wait! Please . . . . do not touch . . .” you plead.

“You have nothing to fear from me,” Golgoth speaks plainly. “I will not harm you.”

But for the first time since you’ve met him, harm is not what you fear. 

You pray that he will pry no further and allow you to make your request before he has a chance to see your curse, but you do not know who to pray to, and it is too late to learn.

His hand reaches again. You resist not, for you have not the strength, nor the wish to offend. He turns your face toward him once more. You keep your eyes shut, bracing yourself as you feel him push your hair back. His claws cradle your head with care.

“AH! I see you have a scar.” He observes, though without disdain in his tone. His thumb ghosts over your scarred flesh, sending a shiver through you. You purse your lips, awaiting his verdict.

“And what a beautiful scar it is,” he says.

Or so you hear him say, but you must have heard wrong. No one would ever deem your scar beautiful, much less a god like him. But . . .  just to make sure . . .

Your eyelids flutter, peering up at him.

“You . . . you find it . . . beautiful?”

“I do.” he affirms confidently, then tilts his head. “Do you not find it so?”

“I . . . I do not.” You glance down at the snow as shameful memories surface. “All have found it gross or . . . hideous to look upon . . .”

“HA! All are wrong!” Golgoth proclaims with gusto. 

He tilts your head up until you meet his fiery gaze. It flares intensely, yet with a warmth that reminds you of summer nights, when your tribe dances around the great blaze. Ever since you felt it’s ruthless ire you have kept your distance, too afraid to step near. 

But for the first time . . .

. . . you do not fear the flame.

“Your scar is full of beauty and bravery,” says Golgoth, staring at you not with disgust or pity, but adoration. “Burning fire could not consume you, and though it has made its claim, you live on, for your heart is strong. It beats like the heart of a warrior.” 

He leans closer still, his breath warming the air between you. “Wear your scar proudly, my soosha.”

His words whirlwind around you, bewildering and overwhelming you, but it is the last word that confuses you most.

“Soosha?” you repeat, oblivious to how he watches it fall from your lips. “What . . . what does that mean?”

Golgoth’s smile quirks in a queer manner. “In your tongue it means wife.”

For one blissful breath, you blink ignorantly at him.

Only for your next breath to be whisked out of you as the word sinks like stone into your stomach. 

“You . . . you mean to say that I . . . I- I am your wife?” you barely whisper.

But Golgoth’s words ring loud, proud, and with horrifying honesty. “You are, have no doubt! 

“I- I don’t understand. H-how? When?!” You stammer, your hands shaking.

“By blood binding,” he answers, his smile dropping, “but a moment ago.”

Staring at the snow, your vision swims as bile builds within your throat. You are unable to breathe, much less believe it to be true. Trying to make sense of this revelation only increases the nauseating horror enveloping you.

“You were not aware of what you were doing, were you?”

You glance up to see him frowning at you.

Fear seizes your tongue, spurring it to fly for its life. “I- I was not!  I- . . . I- I thought . . . the inscription said that to ask for your hand was to ask for your aid. I did not know that . . . what it truly meant was . . . I-I . . . I am sorry, Golgoth. P-please do not be angry with me!” you beg, bowing your head, expecting the hand still cradling it to crush it in displeasure.

Instead it withdraws, slowly and carefully, and though greatly relieved, something quite small inside you misses its touch.

“I am not angry,” he says calmly, the warmth of his voice reduced to cold, quiet embers. “I am disappointed.”

Your surprise is so great, you find yourself meekly inquiring, “Why? I-if I may ask . . .”

“I left that tablet with your people thousands of moons ago, when you still spoke that tongue,” Golgoth replies, his tone revealing how unspeakably ancient he is. “I offered my hand to any of your kind that would take it. My desire was that the one to give her hand in return would do so freely of her own choice.”

“But . . . you are a god? Could you not take her by force?” you dare prod further.

Golgoth stares solemnly at his hand. “Yes, I could take her. I am used to taking. And I watch over those who take. They take life, take blood, take earth and rock and river.” He squeezes his fist until his knuckles give out a sickening crunch. “But this is the one thing I wish not to take. It must be given, and it must be given willingly and knowingly.”

His smoldering eyes turn to you, then shut. “You were willing . . . but you did not know.”

“I know it now!” you exclaim, desperately thrusting your open palms at him. “I willingly give you my hand if . . . i-if you will fulfill my request.”

While you know you have no bargaining power, it is the only way you can still save your people.

Golgoth takes your wounded hand in his . . . yet his eyes open not.

“You have already given your hand,” he says, tracing your cut as if it were an insect's wing. He clasps your hand between his. “Nothing can break the binding, save only your death.”

But your death matters not, nor your fate as Golgoth’s wife.

Only the death of your people matters.

And there is nothing more you can do.

You have failed.

Bitterness and shame well up within your chest, and when your eye begins to mist, you close it tight to keep tear from escaping. 

But as you bite your treacherously trembling lip, you flinch, feeling a hand against your unmarred cheek. A thumb presses under your eye until it opens. Your sorrow seeps from it and is kindly swept away by the same thumb.

Though your sight is distorted, the warm smile on his face shines as bright as the sun.

“But I will hear your request, and fulfill it as I am able,” says Golgoth.

Your mouth opens, yet you are speechless. 

He asks for nothing in return, and he owes you no debt. You are nothing but a mortal who unknowingly bound herself to a god. His offer is beyond generous.

But your marveling at such a miracle can wait, you must not press his patience. 

You lick your cracked lips, your voice wet and wavering. “I-its . . . it’s my- my tribe. We have been raided and- and captured by the Vulkars. Those left cannot survive if they are not destroyed. Please . . . destroy the Vulkars and free my people. That . . . that is my request.”

“And so it shall be done!” he nods, firm and full of fire once more.

Golgoth lets you go and reaches for his neck. He unclasps a cape from his shoulders, one you had not noticed in your observation of him. Though the thick, black canvas looks more like a hut cover than clothing.

You stiffen as he reaches behind you and pulls the cape around you. Hunching into yourself, you suspect he’s going to cover you, but all he does is set it on your shoulders. You grab it, pulling it to cover your front.

It’s almost uncomfortably heavy, and it smells horrendous, but . . . inside, that strange small something finds the gesture a little . . . sweet. 

Golgoth groans, heaving himself to his feet. You grip your new blanket as you watch him grow back to his gargantuan height. But the fear you feel is not nearly as strong as before.

“Stay here and rest,” says Golgoth, stretching his neck taut on either side, the vertebrae popping unpleasantly.  “I shall be back before sunrise.”

And with that he walks away, his footsteps stomping snow and stone in his wake. Staring at his back, you find your voice, though it is so soft, you fear the wind will carry it away before he hears. 

“Golgoth . . .”

Yet he stops, turning his questioning glance over his shoulder. You stare at the ground, twisting the fabric between your fingers. You speak shyly, but sincerely.

“You have my gratitude . . . .” 

“HA! I have no need for it.” he smirks, thumping a fist against his chest. “I will do anything for my soosha.” 

He then turns and marches down the mountain, leaving you with that bold declaration of devotion . . . and mixed feelings.

Gratitude and relief, are the strongest of them. Though you have no reason to be, you are confident that Gologth will carry out his word. 

Your people, your family . . . they will be saved. 

They will survive the winter. 

You have succeeded.

Yet, it has come with a cost. 

A cost you know not the extent of yet.

Fear of the future that lies before you weighs as heavy within you as the weariness of your journey. Seeking comfort, or perhaps consolidation, you consider his treatment of you thus far. 

Of his careful caresses, his gentle gestures, his . . . other expressions of emotions, and most especially of his address of your scarred appearance.

Tenderly, you touch the pink, uneven flesh, the soft color bleeding over to your cheek.

No one- neither friend or enemy- has ever called it beautiful.

No one that is except Golgoth, god of war and blood, and . . . . 

 . . . and your husband.

[ellieslittleslutt]

Teacher!Ellie hcs :3

cw: none i don’t think…

an: guess whose finally back after a while. tbh i probably will disappear again if i can’t come up with anything but oh well!! also this is kinda long soooo

⋆˚꩜｡ teaches sciences but mainly physics, sometimes she will substitute for art if it’s open.

⋆˚꩜｡ always dresses like a little boy and jeans and some random shirt she had which leads her to get stopped in the halls by other teachers asking for her pass.

which leads to a whole explanation of how she actually works there and ends up pulling her id out.

⋆˚꩜｡ likes to keep her door open during lunch and after school incase some kids come stop by either to chat or just hang.

sometimes she’ll get extra excited when you’ll come in after schools over to sit and finish some work.

⋆˚꩜｡ likes to keep music playing in the back when you two are working so that the silence doesn’t make her antsy.

“ellie what the fuck is this?”

you ask putting your pencil down looking at her as some random ass song plays like Ayesha erotica starts.

“what it has catchy lyrics”

⋆˚꩜｡ cannot stand the lunches at the school so she always packs her own, most of the time they consist of a rushed sandwich and a juice box.

after coming into her room and seeing her atrocious lunch you developed a small routine of packing extra vegetables for her so she can get some nutritional value out of the meal.

“the juice box says probiotics in it which means it’s healthy!”

“ellie, sweetie, no.”

sliding a plastic baggie of carrots to her.

⋆˚꩜｡ her students KNOW she has a fat crush on you. once while she was teaching you came in to ask about a schedule and her cheeks got all pink at the way you kept your voice low and soft so you won’t disturb the kids.

after leaving one kid started ooing causing the rest too follow and she grumbled putting her fav in her hands “i’m failing you all”

⋆˚꩜｡ felt honored once when a kid came to her asking them to draw on their converse like how she did because they thought ellie was cool. would not shut up about that for days.

⋆˚꩜｡ keeps her carabiner on all the time with all her keys on it making it very obvious when she’s about to come into your room.

⋆˚꩜｡ on pajama day she brought in her massive bear form ikea and it never came back home, earning itself a place on her rug.

⋆˚꩜｡ once she came bursting into your room complaining about the kids but immediately shut up when she saw you giving her a soft smile, hair tied back messily, with reading glasses propped on your forehead and started to get all flustered.

⋆˚꩜｡ has a problem with accidentally swearing in classes. she would be demonstrating an experiment for the class but when it fails mumbles an “you’re fucking joking” and quickly looking back at the class who all started being over dramatic about it.

“my innocence is gone ms. williams!”

“oh shut it you never had it to begin with daniel”

⋆˚꩜｡ when you offered for her to come back to yours one night for “grading” let’s just say it ended with you two driving to work together, some students definitely asked her about it later causing her to push them out her class.

⋆˚꩜｡ when you two became an established relationship she would only refer to you as “my girlfriend” in classes because she knew her students wouldn’t get off her ass if they knew it was you.

⋆˚꩜｡ once a student came to her panicked about a massive spider in the room and she didn’t want to get it so had to have you pause your work and come in to get it for her.

“you owe me williams.”

you mumbled quietly so no one but her could hear placing a lingering hand on her hip while walking out with the spider in a beaker. stood there frozen for a solid minute already excited to get home to you that night.

⋆˚꩜｡ her white board is dedicated to drawings and doodles her students make her putting them up with magnets and letting them draw during breaks.

⋆˚꩜｡ on her desk she has a jar full of small plastic dinosaurs she’ll give out if the students were good and was once gifted a bag full of tiny babies on her birthday. definitely came to you sobbing about it slurring out some jumbled mess about how she loved her students.

⋆˚꩜｡ two days later she was sat on the couch in you classroom rocking while mumbling “i love my job i love my job i love my job” after a parent yelled at her for talking about the moon landing.

[jalluzas-ferney]

OK VERY VERY UNPOPULAR OPINION

Look, I LOVE KOKO (from the Ninjago movie) I REALLY DO

but I feel like Misako haters who in the same breath adore Koko forget the fact that Koko literally dated and LAYED THE evil warlord that destroys everything and harms innocent lives - all while you know, being Lady Iron Dragon….a warrior who’s supposed to protect the innocent and what not….

AND THEN when she’s raising Lloyd, according to her, she would always tell him to not be ashamed of who his father is…..?

LIKE GIRL LMAO IM SORRY BUT THIS WOMANS MORALS WENT ALL THE WAY OUT THE WINDOW 😭😭😭😭 LIKE WDYM YOU FELL IN LOVE AND DID THE DEVILS TANGO W THE MAN WHO DECIMATES CIVILIZATION AND DESTROYS FAMILIES?!() SHE REALLY THOUGHT SHE COULD FIX HIM?!?) GIRL WHERE ARE YOUR MORLAS THIS MAN IS EVIIILLL😭😭😭 AND THEENNN WHEN THIS MAN CINTINUES TO BE A TERRIBLE FATHER AND CONTINUES TO TERRORIZE AND DESTROY THE CITY- ACTIVELY PUTTING HER AND LLOYD IN DANGER- SHE STILL TELLS LLOYD TO NOT BE ASHAMED?!??

KOKO. YOU CANNOT BE FR RN 😭😭😭😭 WHY TF WOULD SHE WANT HIM TO NOT BE ASHAMED OF HIS AWFUL FATHER- JUST TELL HIM “YEAH YOUR DAD SUCKS NEVER BE LIKE HIM-“ LIKE LMAOO

And where I’m going w this is that yall despise misako for leaving Lloyd at Darkleys and paint her as a terrible mother and what not - but then turn around and praise and adore Koko like yalll Koko is NOT perfect either 😭 this woman also did awful mistakes and acted dumb by tellling Lloyd to not be ashamed of who his EVIL FUCKING father is 😭😭😭

And Ik like maybe shes saying that to comfort him and make him feel like Garmadon being evil isn’t his fault, cuz if you say “YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF WHO YOUR FATHER IS” sounds very harsh and makes it sound like Lloyd has fault in that. But the way Koko phrases it sounds like she spent her life trying to convince Lloyd to not hate his father or smth and only then snapped at Garmadon when he took over the city. Like if my husband is some evil warlord taht constantly puts my city and friends in danger I wouldn’t try to convince my son to not hate his father bruh 😭 I will not defend that man just because he’s my sons dad 💀 a bad person is a bad person Koko you should have been mad from the start bruh 😭😭

So again- my point is- I love both missko and Koko but the amount of hate misako gets compared to Koko is super annoying and I feel like I need to remind yall that Koko isn’t the perfect angel yall act like she is 😨

so stop contradicting yourselves!!!

[jules-and-company]

one thing about me is that i’m an orestes-electra-pylades defender. if you don’t hear them being defended anymore that means i am deceased

[nyxi-pixie]

finished s3 and stand firm in shauna defense EASY WORK!!!!!!!!!!!

[dreamedfyre-a]

thinking about aemond killing luke on purpose and alicent and otto being livid and aegon throwing him a feast and siding with his brother publicly even though it is effectively ending the tense cold war sort of stage to outright open military conflict

and thinking about how helaena fits in this. she's not ignorant of what this means, and she definitely doesn't see it as something to be celebrated. maybe death couldn't be avoided, but celebrating it with a feast is distasteful in her opinion, and it'd certainly be seen as offensive, as well as deliberate provocation. if aemond's actions started it, aegon's ensure there's no way back.

at the same time i think she understands both why aemond would do it and why aegon would make a grand gesture to support him, and she wouldn't fault either. her loyalty to her family is unbreakable (one of her greatest flaws; she's more than willing to overlook any wrongdoing by their hands), and when her family is split on their stance, she leans towards her brothers more so than her mother. and if otto is on one side more often than not she'd rather be on the opposite side ngl

all of this to say that whether aemond regrets it or not doesn't make a difference, because she'll stand with him even if there's blood on his hands. and that even if aegon's celebration is distasteful, it is a display of loyalty too, and uncomfortable as she personally may be, none of it would be voiced or manifested, and she would stand with him too.

the idea they can only rely on each other might be a little too ingrained in all of them (especially after the night aemond lost his eye), and i think it certainly plays a part to some extent. there is no one else. they stand for each other no matter what or no one will. but i think there's a willing joining of hands too. she accepts and wants them as they are, even when that means flawed and violent and uncaring.

she may not raise her voice to condone what they do, but she won't shun them either - and any grievances that need be spoken (because i don't mean she isn't critical; only that ultimately she stands with them even when she disagrees) would be discussed in private. helaena might be snappy or passive-aggressive at times, but when it comes to serious matters like this, there would only be unity in the public eye. i'm sure aegon heard criticism for his feast, but she nevertheless attended and did her best to present herself as she ought to.

[soutsuji]

Do you even understand what Chiori was to Morisu

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere knight who wants you instead of the princess.

Sequel here

Dead dove Do not Eat Tw. For noncon, MDNI, Fem pov

Yandere knight who has been training in the palace for a very long time. It's an honor for a commoner like him to even set foot into the castle walls, so he works earnestly.

Yandere knight who's been catching glimpses of not only the lovely princess throughout the years, but her handmaidens as well. You're a daughter of a somewhat lesser noble house, and therefore you have essentially been given to the royal family until you're eventually married off to another courtier.

But of all the noble ladies, who often ignore him, he finds you to be the most approachable and kind to him and the other squires. He's developed a bit of a crush on you over the years, and he eventually found it in himself to express his feelings. They were innocent and pure then, and he stood there blushing and awkward waiting for you to accept or deny. He would've taken a no from you. Really, he would have.

But then that pompous bitch got in the way.

The princess had you pulled away by her other attendants before you could answer, and she all but sneered at him.

"My maids are not for common rife like you to sully," she spat, a look of disdain carved on her delicate features.

Yandere knight who was deployed to the battlefront soon after. He spent years in misery knowing it was that royal woman's meddling that had both sent him here and stopped him from knowing how you truly felt.

Yandere knight who carved through foe upon foe with the flash of his sword while thinking of you. He would wipe blood from his face and wonder what it would take to have you. He resolves to become so renowned that he could have you and the respect he deserved all those years ago anyways.

Yandere knight who comes back as the hero of the nation. A parade is thrown for him upon his return, and flowers are thrown at his feet by the masses of people. He is awarded a noble title, a duke (impressive), a territory of land to manage, and the blessing to have the hand of any eligible lady in the land from the king.

The implication was for him to go for the princess, sitting there in a gown befitting of an engagement party. She wasn't the heir to the throne, and having a young, impressionable Duke to have and father a potential crown prince or princess was certainly a draw for her to act so sweet and lovely despite her previous attitudes. He had to use all the will in his body to hide his disdainful glare towards her. Instead, he strode up with a near giddy grin, breezed past the waiting royal, and knelt before you.

"[Name], I shall have you as my wife," He says with a beaming smile. You try to protest, but he's already sweeping you into his arms. The king seems surprised by his choice, but as he stares between Yandere Knight, lovestruck and beaming, and you, squirming and utterly shocked, he realizes that he cannot simply go back on his word. The king waves his hand, and your fate is sealed.

Yandere knight feels bad for not giving you a proper wedding. In fact, he feels bad about not taking you to your new home before he's pulling up your skirts. He's a dog, he knows, but you're just so tempting now that you're all his. He shoving you down onto the plush upholstery of the carriage seats, and you let out a startled cry.

Yandere knight who cannot claim he's chivalrous. He wishes he could, but he loves the way your breasts look pushed up so tightly in the laced bodice of yours. He lets out a groan, petting your hair and shushing you as you whimper under his wandering touch. Button after button becomes undone.

"Love, you'll never wear such stifling clothing again. You hear me? All robes and lace from now on. None of this nonsense," He murmurs into your skin. He pulled your corset and chemise from your body, and he pressed fervent kisses to the crook of your neck. He grasps at your breasts, kneading them experimentally. He's had time to experience women on the battlefield. A fling or two in some field on the outskirts of a freshly liberated village. He would think of you the whole time and imagine what he was latching his lips around the stiff peak of your nipple while a random girl cried out underneath him. But this was real. Your warmth beneath his much heavier form was on of the most beautiful feeling he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

He parted your legs, and he could feel you shy away from him. He laughed. As if you had a choice. He knew you would love him eventually, but for now you can't blame him for how ravenous he was as he felt between your shaking, parted legs. He smirked as his lips met yours. His fingers slid against your folds, gathering slick arousal on his digits with a curious hum. He grinds his thumb against your clit as he slowly pushes his way into your warm, spongy walls.

"Oh? Is it good there? Or here? Where, love? You gotta use your words," He teases and licks the tears rolling down your cheeks, peppering your soft skin with kisses. He feels you pulse and stretch around his hand, and he relishes the way your back arches when he curls his fingers just right against that sweet little spot. Desperate noises tumble out of you, and he smiles.

He pulls his fingers out, and you cry out at the sudden sensation. Your chest is heaving with small moans, and your pretty pussy is drooling onto the carriage cushions. He pushes your legs up to your chest for a better grip, and his shudders at the way your twitching feels against the head of his cock.

Yandere knight knows that, as he thrusts into you, he's going to enjoy the luxury of finally having you both under his body and under his control.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ft Gojo Satoru

— Six years. He’s loved you for six years. He was too young back then but now he’s not. And he plans on showing you that.

᧔♡᧓ Semi Yandere! Gojo x Fem! Reader

᧔♡᧓ Content: age gap (gojo’s 21 n reader is 27), obsessive behavior, smut, pussy eating, porn with some plot, cheating while in talking stage, petnames, praise, breeding, baby trapping, manipulation, gaslighting

᧔♡᧓ A/n: reader always saw gojo as a brother since he was so young, and never really developed feelings for him. it was just lust taking over when they fucked

Six years of friendship with your current best friend. Six years in which her little brother Gojo has had a crush on you. Six years of you only cooing with a giggle as you ruffled his fluffy white head of hair before calling his doting nature cute.

Six years.

Six years that he’s waited for you, becoming more of a man for you. Working out, gaining experience. It was all for you.

You’re twenty seven now, barely any different since the first time he met you. Your soft features still as beautiful as ever and your body just as perfect as he remembered. He’s studied you over the years. Every single time you came over. Studied your patterns, your every move, your likes, your dislikes, he’d even gotten to know your type.

He’d loved you since he was fifteen.

But he’s not a little kid anymore. He’s grown. Twenty one years old. Mature enough to be yours, to take care of you. He deserved you after waiting for so long. And he would show you. Show you that you needed him just as bad, craved him as much as he craved you. He’s the one for you, you just had to open your eyes and see that.

Gojo knows you feel at least a slight bit of attraction towards him. Hell, you’d called him handsome so many times— even though it had been strictly platonic— that you have to had felt something.. right?

On his eighteenth birthday you were there with him, his friends and his sister. He’d even brought a girl, introducing her as his girlfriend to try for a reaction out of you. But you didn’t bat an eye, you were genuinely happy for him. It made his jaw clench, but he was reminded of why he loved you. You were so sweet and caring. A big smile on your face as you embraced him in a hug, giving him the present that you’d been so excited to get. It was something that he had wanted for a while. A part of you saw him and his sister as the siblings you’d never had.

He didn’t need your gift, of course. He had enough money to buy anything he wanted. But it being from you made it special.. so so very special. Especially since you had listened to him. And it was his turn to return the favor. The random expensive gifts never stopped, every time you came over for the next three years it seemed that there was always something wrapped and waiting for you. Somethings just never change, you thought to yourself, piecing together that the boy’s crush had never left.

Then his gifts started getting more and more.. well, whatever you’d consider those matching lace sets that were accompanied a little note that made you swallow hard. Followed up by short dresses and eventually fancy shoes and purses to match. Not to mention the collection of jewelry you’d gotten from him.

Then he was.. less subtle, sending small smirks and winks your way. Finding any excuse just to be next to you or let his hands innocently wander during a hug.

You were not going to tell his sister. You didn’t want there to be any problems between them. You also couldn’t just start coming over less, she was like family to you. So you let his harmless crush continue.

…

Gojo swears luck was on his side, the universe wanting to make things easier for him. You had a boyfriend, a guy you worked with who was a good five years older than you. Like he said, you had a type, and he checked out none of these boxes. He knew everything about the dude, and he knew that he was not good enough for you. He tried to warn you, but what did you do? You smiled at what you took as him being worried about your well being.

So when you came knocking on his front door, flinging yourself into his sister’s arms as you cried into her shoulder. He knew. That asshole had broken your heart. He’d deal with it. He’d truly make the guy regret hurting you.

You were at his house all week, falling into the stage of the break up where you sat in your room (with their house so big you were bound to have one if your own) watching tv with a tub of ice cream and a string of adorable laughter. Anything to take your mind off the sting in your chest.

Then you were out. Everywhere. Going to clubs and parties with his sister just as you two did when you were a little younger. It was reckless, what if you got hurt? What is someone tried something? You were a sight for sore eyes after all. He would make sure to never let that happen. It was why he always accompanied you, whether you were aware of it or not. It was no surprise that you were never able to get laid, despite all the ogling eyes set on you.

…

Gojo leaned against the bathroom’s door frame as you emptied your stomach’s contents into the toilet in front of you. Small moans of displeasure filling the room as your body slumped against it. After math of a night full of drinking.

His arms were folded across his chest, muscles bulging through the tight black fabric which was paired with grey sweats which hung lowly on his hips. Gojo chuckled, pushing himself to stand straight before walking over to you. Stooping down to your current height with the shake of his head. “You should know better than this baby.”

Your brows furrowed, opening your mouth to question him before your head was over the bowl once more. Tears welling in your eyes at the massive headache that had sprung to life. “Shh shh shh baby.” He whispered, “let it all out, you’ll feel better soon.” He soothed, pushing stray strands away from your sweaty forehead while stroking softly at your hair. Whispering little words of encouragement as he held you, smiling sadly when the hug caused you to break down in his arms. No doubt reminding you of your recent breakup.

“Here, i brought you some panadol.” He reached for the two pills and the cup of water on the counter. Letting you sit with your back against his chest as he guided them up to your mouth, bringing the cup to your lips right after. “Here, drink it all okay?” You nodded, swallowing down the water along with the pain relievers. Gojo’s lips pressing softly to your head as he continued to stroke your skin.

You’d fallen asleep. And he’d laid you down on his bed instead of yours. Tucking you in and leaving you to rest.

Downstairs he found his sister, an empty cup sat in front of her along with the pill bottle. She’d clearly been hungover too. “Where is she?”

Gojo gave her a knowing look. “She’s sleeping.”

“Where?”

“My room.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing, not liking the way she was watching him. Was she really that selfish over her best friend.

“Satoru.. she’s twenty seven. You need to get over this stupid little crush of yours and go find someone your own age. She doesn’t want you, she never will.”

Gojo seethed, fists already at his side as he stared angrily at his sister. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Satoru come on-“

“No.” His voice was firm, he didn’t look angry anymore, he looked hurt. “Just.. shut up, please.” A part of him knew that maybe he’d just never be enough for you.

…

Making his way back upstairs Gojo had a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs along with a glass of hot tea. He walked into his room to find your eyes only just fluttering open with the small stretch of your body. Blinking your eyes to adjust to the bright light while taking in your surroundings, realizing immediately where you were, and who was standing at the door.

“Oh.. Satoru, hi.” Your voice was timid, embarrassed to have been seen in your drunken state by the boy.

“Hey, how’s your head? I brought you breakfast.” He set the food down near the bed before taking a seat next to you. Allowing his fingers to play with the fallen hair from your bun.

“T-thanks.” You nodded, shifting to sit up before grabbing a strip of the crispy meat.

He wouldn’t stop staring at you, couldn’t stop staring at you. And you smiled in his direction, “thanks a lot, i should really get back to my room though.”

He shrugged, “or you could just stay, it’s not like we’re doing anything.” He grinned. “Yet.”

You couldn’t help the way your cheeks heated up at that statement. “It’s okay, i think i’ll just-“

“Stay. Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll even put on your favorite.” Reaching for the remote to search for your favorite show. You bit your lip nervously, not understanding how he could act so normal after all the inappropriate gifts and advances.

His smile never faltered as his hand ‘accidentally’ found yours, slipping his fingers into your own. Not allowing you to let go even if you tried.

…

The next few days were.. good. Gojo had assumed that everything was going well. They were going well, until you decided to ruin everything.

Toji Fushiguro.

A forty something year old man with two children. That’s who you were talking to. Gojo didn’t appreciate how hard you making things for him. You were supposed to be his and he was supposed to be yours.

He was tired of waiting for you to come to him, so he went to you. Knocking on your door with vigor and a small scowl. When the door swung open you were mid-laugh, Toji coming into view behind you with a glass of champagne in hand.

“Seriously? You’ve been ignoring us for him? Him?” Gojo accused pointedly, “My sister misses you, she’s been crying. A lot. Says you’re choosing a guy over your friendship.”

His jaw was hard as he fed you lies through his teeth. Watching your eyes widen as you pondered. Were you ignoring your best friend? You’d seen her just earlier today. You guys had hung out, gone for lunch. Talked about who you both liked with big smiles and non stop giggles. It didn’t feel like anything had changed. “I.. I didn’t realize- i’m sorry.” You didn’t know what to say, it made zero sense. But why would he lie?

Gojo silently cheered as you sadly asked Toji to leave. Giving him a small kiss on the cheek and promising to call him tomorrow. He was not very happy about the last part, but at least he was alone with you.

As soon as he left Gojo marched into your apartment. Nearly falling over his two feet when the scent hit him. Your scent, stronger than ever, that sweet strawberry smell that he’d grown to love.

“Satoru, i didn’t-”

He couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t. “It’s okay I forgive you.” Turning around for his hand to snake to the back of your neck, heart rate speeding up as he crashed his lips onto yours.

You whimpered in surprise, Gojo controlling the kiss as he backed you up against a wall. His lips quickly traveling down to your neck in desperation. “You know, i’ve waited so long. So fucking long. Waited for you. For us. I’ve given you everything, i’ve done everything. But it’s just never enough is it? You’re just too ungrateful huh baby?”

You moaned loudly. “Satoru.. what are you.. hmm.”

“I’m taking what’s mine baby. Taking what i deserve. I’m not a little boy anymore. I’m a man. I can take care of you.” His lips moved with force, sucking harshly at your skin as he kissed down your chest, free hand roaming to your ass with a squeeze. “I’m old enough to be yours. This isn’t just some crush anymore. I fucking love you.”

You could feel your heart pounding as he uttered the words you wished he hadn’t. “Satoru we can’t.. your sister’s my best friend. I’m still older than you.”

“She’ll get over it.” He breathed, making quick work of your tank top that clung deliciously to your tits. “We’re both consenting adults now aren’t we. If you tell me to stop, i’ll stop.”

Your mouth went dry, lips parting to demand him to go but you couldn’t. You didn’t want him too. What was wrong with you?

“So what will it be baby? Stop? Or don’t stop?”

“Don’t stop..” You mumbled in shame, avoiding his eyes as you looked away. Gojo’s fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing you to turn back to face him.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, don’t stop.” You said a little louder, cheeks burning up under his touch.

“Good girl. I knew you were playing hard to get.” He grinned, “You love the chase as much as i do.”

Gojo’s arms hooked under your thighs, lifting you onto him before reattaching your lips. Carrying you to your bedroom to drop you onto the sheets. Lips never leaving yours as you both hurriedly undressed. He was addicted to you, and having you set fire to his veins. This was all he’d ever wanted.

Gojo dropped to his knees before you, kissing lightly at your pussy before enclosing it with his mouth. Tongue lapping you up hungrily as you moaned, fingers finding his hair with a tremble.

“Satoru— feels so good, haah.” You breathed, Gojo burying his face between your legs with a tight grip on your thighs. Allowing your legs to wrap around his neck as he devoured your sopping heat. You were so sweet— just like everything else about you. And he couldn’t help but rut against nothing as more blood rushed to his cock. Finding pleasure in getting to taste you after years of jerking off to the image.

He’s seen your room more than you, always snatching a pair of anything he could find. Just to be able to hold you in any way or form. Feel you on his skin. Touch something that had already touched you.

Gojo pulled away with his face glistening, “Learned how to do this just for you baby. Wanted to be good for our first time.” He smiled lazily, eyes dark with need as he got back to work, sending muffled groans into your bundle of nerves while you mewled loudly. Back arching with the curl of your toes before trying to pull away.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Gojo growled lowly, fingers digging painlessly into your flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, tongue flicking at your clit before his lips closed around it. Sucking and swirling the sensitive bud into his mouth with a satisfied hum. All while you cried out above him, moans getting louder each time you called out his name.

It was like music. The sweetest song ever. Hearing you moan for him, moan out of pleasure, need, lust. Knowing that it was him making you feel so good. He almost came right there, determined to give you the best orgasm of your life with just his tongue. You tugged at his strands, your vision blurred in the nearing of your high.

“Satoru— o-oh fuck Satoru, ‘m gonna cum. Nngh, you’re gonna make me cum.” You moaned noisily, lewd slurps and sloppily kisses filling your ears as he made out with your wet pussy.

Gojo loved how much you were squirming, your legs tightening around his neck as you screamed. You actually screamed. He made you scream. His tongue was awaiting when you began to shake, toes curled and eyes rolled back as you squirted nonstop. The clear liquid gushing onto his face and tongue in long streams.

You whined at the overstimulation when he licked a stripe up your pussy. Collecting every last bit of your sweetness before standing up. You were panting, hard. And Gojo felt accomplished as he smirked. “Has any older man ever made you cum this hard baby?”

Your head was dizzy, trying to bring yourself back down to earth as you blinked up at him with the shake of your head.

He scoffed in pride, “Now try telling me that i’m too young for you now.”

Gojo was quick to lay you flat on the bed and crawl in on top of you. Consequences of your latest activities still fresh on his chin and chest. There were so many positions he wanted to take you in, but first he wanted to see you fall apart under him. See your face contort into one of pure bliss when he started pounding into you.

“You ready for me?” He husked, impressive cock already swiping up and down your slick filled folds. You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes with parted lips. “Ready.”

You both shared a drawn out moan when he nestled his cock past your tight entrance. Feeling him graze your gummy walls before reaching deep within you.

You felt so good, so tight.. warm. And he felt so deep, so big.. perfect.

“This pussy was made for me.” He grunted with a loud groan, slowly speeding up his pace till he was fucking into you with no end. Hips snapping into yours as his cock kissed your spot, prodding at your cervix with every hard thrust. “Fuck- look at how well you’re taking me. Fucking swallowing me all the way in.”

You only moaned in response, teary eyes meeting his sinful ones as he molded you around his cock. Making sure that you knew nothing but the shape of him, the feel of him, when you were done.

Letting out the whiniest cry, your arms reached up around his shoulders, clawing at his skin when you felt your stomach tighten.

You could feel him so deep, the roll of his hips allowing his fat tip to curl up and kiss exactly where you needed it most. The fast pace pulling short screams past your swollen lips.

“Satoru— haah, you’re so deep. I love it s’ much Toru. So m-much— ahh.” You couldn’t think straight, your brain only registering the way he was sliding in and out of you. It was all you could think about in that moment l, the way he felt.

Gojo watched you fall apart, just like he wanted. Your glossy eyes closing as your head fell further into the pillow, unable to control your noises as you got closer and closer.

“You don’t know how hot you look right now. I love seeing you like this. All for me.” His voice cracked, cock twitching in an aching cry to get its release.

“S-satoru, ‘m so close. Gonna cum again.” You choked out, nails piercing into his broad back as your hands roamed down.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess f’ me again hmm? All that denying me, making me feel like our love was one sided. You put me through a lot you know.” He shook his head. “If only you knew the lengths i’d go for you.”

His eyes were crazed, and a shiver raked through your body at his words, whimpering as you succumbed to the building pleasure with a mewl. “O-oh fuckk.”

“Nuh uh, baby. Apologize to me first then you cum.” His tone was firm, serious. He wanted to hear you say it.

“Ahh, ‘m sorry Satoru— ‘m so so sorry. You’re goid enough f’ me. Mature enough. You’re perfect. Please let me cum. I need to cum.” You cried, the man on top of you pretending to ponder your words which went straight to his cock before smiling darkly. “Go ahead baby, cum for me.”

Your body shook as you yelled out his name, your surroundings becoming blank when you began to squirt messily, again. The intense orgasm seeming to stun all of your body’s systems as you failed to come back down. Gojo’s continued thrusts keeping pleasure flowing through your sensitive body.

“I love you so much baby. I always did. It makes me so happy that we can finally be together. Fuckk— ‘m all yours. All yours.” He buried his face in your neck, his own eyes closing shut as his body trembled, stilling inside your warmth before you felt his cum pumping into you in spurts. The thick substance coating your every wall in white.

“And now you’re mine.” He didn’t pull out, staying buried inside you in hopes of you two being connected forever. There was one thing he knew and you forgot. You hadn’t taken your birth control in a while, and a part of him hoped that you had seen this coming. That you wanted it. But one thing remained true either way, he was never letting you go.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

i’ve never made a request before so sorry if this is bad but if you could write something about matt murdock with a fake dating trope like that would be so cute, especially if there’s feelings realized during/after it :)

a/n: i swear, i tried to just keep this short and sweet like how i usually keep requests, but then the fantasy i came up with was just too fun and too much like a fucking romcom not to just let myself go ham and turn it into a full-on long fic

word count: 3778

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Leaning your weight against the bar, you waited for Josie to return with another round of beers for you and your friends, who still remained exactly where you’d left them, all clustered around the pool table further into the space. 

Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the ring so often glued to your fingers, passing the heirloom from each digit and sliding it onto the next. It had been your grandmother’s, and ever since her passing, the simple golden circle with a little jade embedded at the cusp of it, rarely stayed in your jewellery box as the act of simply glancing down at it on your finger somehow offered you a drop of comfort in moments of mundane gloom. 

As the heirloom arrived at your left ring finger and slid down over the knuckle, a familiar voice suddenly emanated like an echo after the bar’s front door had swung open. 

“Y/n?” your whole body froze up at the unexpected timbre. 

Slowly, you twisted around to discover none other than your ex, wide eyes trained on you as he clutched the hand of a leggy blonde. 

“Henry!” you gasped, hoping they mistook the horrified look on your face for innocent shock, “oh my god…” 

Without any warning, the next thing you knew, he’d yanked your stunned form into a hug, “how the hell are you?” he clapped your shoulder as if you were old school chums, “it’s been so long.”

“I’m–, uhm, fine,” you managed to reply. 

“Yeah?” he smiled, the insincerity in your tone completely flying over his head, “that’s great.” 

Simply to be polite, you awkwardly asked, “…how are you?” even though you truly didn’t wish to know the answer.  

“I’m good, yeah, life’s been kinda crazy lately because–, oh,” he suddenly paused to glance back at the girl by his side, “Y/n, you remember Rebecca, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed and offered her a glance, fearing steam might billow out of your ears at any moment, “hi.”

“Hey,” she smiled brightly as she tossed her luscious locks over her shoulder, “and please don’t mind him,” she clapped a palm over Henry’s chest, “he’s just freaking out, you know, usual guy stuff before finally getting tied down.”

“I’m sorry,” you blinked, nearly pinching yourself to test if this was a nightmare or not, “before what?”

Rebecca then held up her left hand to flash you the massive rock nestled on her fourth finger. 

“I finally popped the question!” Henry grinned and draped an arm around his fiancé.

“Wow, oh wow, that’s–…” you sputtered as the blonde promptly shoved her hand in your face for you to get a better look, “that’s a really big rock, right there, on your finger…” your touch floated up and tilted her palm slightly, the light from the neon sign close by glinting in the diamond, “congratulations…”

“Thanks!” she smiled down at the ring herself before her fingers suddenly captured your own and twisted your hand around, “oh wait, congrats to you too!” 

“What?” you still simply tried to keep breathing through this agonising gut-punch of an encounter. 

“I know they say that size doesn’t matter,” Rebecca eyed the tiny green stone that adorned your grandmother’s ring, “and it doesn’t! I mean, that’s so pretty,” she uttered in a sugary sweet and insincere tone that made you feel as if you were back in high school again, “understated, simple.” 

“Ah, no way,” Henry peeked down at your hand, “you’re engaged too?”

“Uh…” you let out a shaky breath, “yep,” the lie then suddenly flew out past your lips before you had a chance to stop it, “that’s me! I’m getting married.” 

“That’s amazing,” your ex let out an airy chuckle, “who’s the lucky guy?”

But before your lips could part and let out another lie, Josie returned, “here you go, hon,” and slid four beer bottles across the bar to you before adding, “and would you tell Foggy to stop sitting on the edge of the pool table? It’s old and I can’t be responsible if it breaks on him.”

“Sure thing,” you promised and snatched up the drinks. 

“Is that your man?” Henry cast a glance to the lawyer Josie had gestured to, “Foggy, was it?”

“Foggy?” a soft giggle couldn’t help but bubble out of your lungs, “no! Don’t get me wrong, he’s great, but no, sadly, he’s already taken.” 

“Then who is it?” 

“Is it the other guy over there?” Rebecca chimed in as they both sent their glances towards your friends, “the one in the light blue shirt and tinted glasses?”

“Uh, yeah…” you squeaked as you slowly turned to look at Matt as well, “that’s–, uh, that’s him,” you watched as he readjusted his grip on the cue stick in his hand, “that’s my future husband…”

“Hm,” a sliver of judgment slipped out of Henry, “wouldn’t have pegged him to be your type.”

“Well, maybe my type has changed,” you stated, letting your lingering resentment show before you noticed how harsh it had come out and your stomach immediately began to twist and knot in regret, “I–…” you swiftly winched, “sorry,” and averted your gaze, “have a nice evening, uh–, I’m gonna go back to my friends,” you stumbled as you tried to escape. 

Though as you turned to walk away, Henry’s voice found your ears one last time, “bye!” before you heard his fiancé turn to him. 

“Pookie? Would you order me a cosmo?” her voice began to fade into the background, “I’ll go find us a table…” 

You simultaneously felt as if a truck had just run you over as your feet carried you back towards your friends, yet also completely numb, as if you’d been turned into a floating ghost of the person you used to be. 

“Who the hell was that and why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Foggy asked cautiously as he grabbed two of the bottles in your grasp and handed one off to Matt. 

Passing one of the remaining drinks off to Karen, you then lifted your own up to your lips before tipping it back and downing around half of its contents. Once you tilted the dark green bottle back down, you were out of breath as you began to explain, “that,” you wiped your bottom lip with one of your knuckles, “was my ex,” you used that same finger to hazily point back over your shoulder, “and his fiancé,” your eyes stayed fuzzy as you added, “who happen to be the girl that he cheated on me with for a year before I one day finally caught them together.”

“Oh my god…” Karen breathed, her bottle frozen halfway on its journey up towards her lips. 

“It was on easter,” you shared, “he thought I had gone back home to see my family, but I’d actually decided to secretly do this whole big surprise, like I thought I was in fucking rom-com or something,” you sighed at your past self, “but then when he got home from work, and I was all decked out, waiting on the bed, in bunny ears and everything,” you heatedly gestured to the top of your own head, “he wasn’t alone.”

“Wow…” Foggy stared. 

“Yep…” you exhaled heavily, taking another swig before you made the mistake of glancing back over your shoulder just as Rebecca shrugged off her coat and slinked onto a stool at one of the small tables, “fuck!” you exclaimed as if you’d just stubbed your toe, “she’s even hotter than I remembered. How is that possible?” 

“Oh, she’s not that pretty,” Karen tried, but you swiftly cut her off. 

“You shut your face, she’s basically a human-sized Barbie,” your glare roamed one last time from the top of her platinum locks to the bottoms of her high stilettos, “god…” you sighed as you finally averted your gaze and lifted your bottle to drown your sorrows, “I was such an idiot back there. It was like my brain just stopped working and–, oh my god!” your palm shot up to cover your mouth as you then suddenly recalled the lie that had slipped out. Slowly, your wide eyes drifted to Matt, who still remained silent, “oh no…” 

“What is it?” Foggy chimed in. 

“Matt…” you uttered tensely, knowing your friend well enough to be aware of just how much of the interaction with your ex he had overheard, “I am so sorry…”

“What?” Karen’s glance darted between you both, “what’s going on?”

Paralysing embarrassment churned your stomach and choked out any attempt you made to share the truth. But luckily, as your erratic heartbeat thumped and found Matt’s sharp ears, he eventually filled in instead, “…they thought that she was engaged as well and then assumed that I was the guy.” 

“I am so, so sorry,” you gasped, “I don’t know why I didn’t correct them.”

But to your amazement, Matthew simply shrugged and offered you a reassuring smile, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“I was just fiddling with my ring and then they just–…” you then snuffed out your frantic explanation and instead repeated once again, “I’m sorry…”

Saddling up beside you, Karen planted a palm on your shoulder, “hey, if that was my ex, then I’d wanna give him some of his own medicine as well,” she stated, “if not just straight up cut off his balls, which is what he really deserves.” 

A faint smile then began to soften your expression as you glanced around at your supportive friends, Foggy briefly reaching out to pat your other shoulder. 

But as you averted your eyes to the nearly empty bottle in your grasp, a thought suddenly struck you like a bolt of lightning, “wait, I have an idea…” your gaze slowly lifted to lock on Matt, “I mean, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I totally get it, but would you mind, just while they are here, to–, uhm…”

Cocking his eyebrow, he finished your sentence, “…to pretend to be your fiancé?” 

“I know, it’s stupid, and I should probably just go home right now instead of playing some weird and immature game of revenge or whatever,” you uttered as you made the decision to lie in the grave you’d dug for yourself, “but I would forever be in your debt, I'm serious.” 

Sucking in a breath, he barely had to think about it before he murmured, “sure.”

“Really?” you gasped, your brows shooting up, “you’ll do it?” 

“Yeah, why not?” Matt shrugged, “it’s the very least he deserves for treating you like that.”

“Oh,” you crossed the short distance between you two and threw your arms around him. It took a second before you felt him hug you back, but when the alcohol got to your head and made you mutter, “I love you,” into his shoulder, a low chuckle rumbled in the lawyer's chest before you parted ways. 

“So,” Karen then began to fish out the colourful spheres and roll them back into the green felt, “do we still wanna play another game?”

“Hell yeah,” Foggy picked a cue stick back up before adding a playful threat, “you’re not beating me again this time, Page.”

Once the table was set up for another round of pool and you were a few turns in, your gaze couldn’t help but wander back towards the other end of the bar too often to keep track of. Though, soon on one of the fleeting looks, your eyes grew wide as you discovered you weren’t the only one sneaking glances.

Discreetly, you shifted closer to Matthew and leaned in to whisper, “he’s looking over,” however, when he then draped an arm around your frame, you couldn’t help but stiffen up, as you hadn’t thought that far in the plan yet, “what are you–”

“Shh,” Matt hushed your squeak, “just lean into me,” he shifted to stand tall behind you, arms enveloped around your form as he slowly drew you back against his chest, “smile,” his low voice tickled the shell of your ear and caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “and don’t look at him.” 

Redirecting your vision back towards the game before you, you narrowly managed to catch sight of the silent slut-shaming the other lawyer flashed his friend with but a glance, before he went back to the mischievous mission he was on. 

“Foggy, would you quit it?” Karen grumbled at the man beside her as he wildly waved both of his hands in her periphery, successfully knocking off her concentration as she tried to line up her shot. 

“No way,” he kept up his flapping, even causing Karen’s golden locks to get picked up by the breeze he produced. 

“You’re cheating.”

“Nope, I am not touching you nor the table,” he stated as if he was in court, “distracting you doesn’t break any rules.”

And as she finally made her attempt, the ball didn’t go in, causing her to explode in a roar, “damn it, Fog!”

“Ha, ha, yes!” he jumped as she straightened back up, “you know, I taste something right now, what could that be? Oh yeah, victory. And it tastes sweet as candy store.” 

“Urgh,” Karen rolled her eyes at him before her glare landed upon the both of you, “Matt, your turn. Would you please set him in his place?”

“Gladly,” Matt chuckled, and as he shifted closer to the pool table, he nudged your side and asked, “hey, would you give me a hand?”

Swallowing a chuckle as you already knew he very much didn’t need it, you cocked an eyebrow, “you want my help?”  

“Yeah,” he uttered clearly and let his real message seep through his tone, guiding your gaze to flicker back toward Henry, who’s stare was still locked upon you both, “so come help me.” 

“Oh!” it finally clicked in your brain, “right,” and you swiftly slid in beside him. 

With bated breath, you grabbed Matt’s hand that wasn’t clutching the pole, and guided it over the ivory ball that rested close to one of the corners. As you began to map out and tell him where each of the other spheres were, your eyes flicked over to notice just how close you now stood, as your nose nearly grazed against his stubbly cheek as you murmured guidingly. When you retracted your touch, you barely noticed how a few of Matt’s fingers reacted, faintly following your fading palm for but a second before it floated back down to the white orb below it. 

Once he’d made his shot, you lingered in the proximity and whispered, “do you think they’re buying it?” 

“Hm?” 

“This,” your eyes momentarily flickered back towards your ex across the bar, “us.”

Matthew’s brows then floated up as you reeled him back in to the matter at hand, “oh, I–, probably.” 

“Or should we do something else?” your mind kept on spinning, “I don’t know, I feel like I’ve completely forgotten how all of that works,” you shared, “kinda just numbed and cut off that part of myself after he broke my heart, it was just how I had to get through it, shut down a little bit because suddenly romance was terrifying…”

“...can I ask you something?” he asked quietly after a breath, and when you offered him a hum in confirmation, he uttered, “are you still in love with him?” 

Time stretched out before you finally replied, “I was, for a very long time…” your voice stayed small, “…but no, not anymore… I kind of thought I was, but then seeing him again cleared it all up. All I feel when I look at him now is rage,” you exhaled, “and pity, just because I know him too well, know everything that’s messed up about him…” silence encumbered you both for a moment before you then opened your mouth once more and said, “so, should we hold hands or something?” you asked plainly, though when a genuine laugh then began to billow out of Matthew, your eyes blinked up at him as your brows swiftly knit together, “what?”

“You know,” he tried to snuff out his chuckle, “if I was actually your fiancé, I wouldn’t just stand around and hold your hand all night,” he then leaned in the short distance till his lips nearly tickled the shell of your ear, “I would have dragged you into the bathroom by now and forced the whole bar to hear us fuck.” 

“I–, u-uhm,” you flusteredly stammered as your face began to heat up, “y-yeah, yeah, that’s good too,” you barely registered your own words as they slipped out past your lips, “if that’s what you wanna do–, I mean! Shut up!” you squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you regained your own senses, “just hold my hand, you dick,” you cursed over his laughter as he swiftly slipped his palm into your own.

“Cut it out, Karen,” Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and caught your attention. 

Glancing over, you spotted as Karen was giving him some of his own medicine, pettily leaning into his eye line, “what? You were the one saying that distractions weren’t against the rules,” she continued to glare in hopes of throwing him off his game, “why? Is this not working? Do you need me to scream directly in your ear instead?”

“Oh, would you?” he sarcastically looked to her, his pitch climbing up high at his words, “going deaf in one ear is exactly what I need to beat you.”

As your wandering gaze then flickered back towards the opposite end of the bar, your eyes grew wide as you spotted only Rebecca still seated at the small table, pink cocktail in her grasp. 

“Shit,” you spotted Henry as he crossed the room, confidently walking precisely in your direction, “he’s coming over,” you hissed, and in your muppet-like panic, your hands clasped each side of Matt’s face and yanked him in for a kiss. 

At first, he froze up as you continued to freak out, but then, as his broad palms slowly slid over your waist, all of your alarm began to melt away. It felt as if you were drifting off to sleep as you relaxed into the kiss. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that kissing Matt would feel like this, not that such a fantasy was something you pondered often or even at all, but as you felt his tongue flicker out to dance softly against your own, your knees beneath you wobbled as you lost yourself completely. How long the peck drew out remained a mystery, as when you eventually parted, the reasoning behind it wouldn’t emerge in your memory no matter how hard you tried. 

Though as you stood there, blinking back at Matt, still utterly spellbound by the unexpected feelings currently bubbling and bursting inside of you, the man now standing off to the side cleared his throat and brought you back down to earth. 

“Bunny–, I mean, Y/n,” you whipped your head around to catch sight of your ex, “just thought it would have been awkward if I didn’t come over here to introduce myself before me and Becca took off,” he muttered before his gaze fell to Matt, his arms slowly fading from your form, “I'm Henry, nice to meet you,” your ex then offered his hand, though the lawyer by your side didn’t grasp it, even if his heightened senses had lent him to pick up on the gesture. 

“Matt Murdock,” he uttered on a cold exhale. 

Stuffing his rejected palm into his pocket, Henry then asked, “what do you do?” 

“Matthew’s a lawyer,” you took over, slotting yourself into Matt’s side before you dramatically clasped a hand over his chest, “saves people for a living. That’s actually why we’re out celebrating tonight, he just won yet another case.” 

“Oh, well congratulations then,” Henry offered in well-forged petty politeness. 

“Yeah, I was there, watching him do his thing,” you uttered as some bitter goblin of resentment then took over your soul and caused you to say, “and oh boy, I tell you, if only it would have been socially acceptable for me to interrupt the trial just to rip his clothes off, because wow.”

A scoff then rippled in Henry’s chest, “okay, sure,” his stare upon you narrowed as he then grumbled, “we both know you’re not exactly the groupie type of girlfriend.” 

“Well, maybe your sorry ass was never worth her supporting you in that way,” Matt suddenly cut in, “maybe because you never bothered treated her that way in return,” his guess hit the bullseye, “and maybe that has a little something to do with why I was the one to put a ring on her finger and not you,” your heart thumped in your chest as Matt’s touch returned to the small of your back, protectively sliding over your waist as he continued to speak in a low and chillingly stern tone, “that or you really are as terrible of a lay as she told me you were, during those very first nights when she finally learned what it was like to be with someone who wasn’t a complete fucking idiot.” 

Utterly stunned, you watched Henry’s expression as he scrambled his brain for a way to crawl back from that, but eventually, when no suitable words came to his pea-sized brain, his feet slowly began to shuffle back till his hand had snatched up his fiancé’s and he’d yanked her with him out of the bar. 

As the door swung closed behind the pair, a celebratory squeal burst from your lungs, “oh my god! Matt, that was incredible!” you jumped in place before throwing your arms around him, “I don’t know how to thank you.” 

Tangling his own arms around you, he uttered, “I’m sure we’ll come up with some way you can make it up to me.” 

And as you withdrew, just enough to smile back at him, your gaze began to drift back down towards his lip just before Foggy’s voice cut through the palpable tension.

“Do I need to remind you guys that you’re not actually engaged?” 

“No,” Matt then murmured as the two of you parted ways, quietly enough for his words to be completely inaudible, “but we could be...” 

“What?” you glanced over at him. 

“What?” he echoed in return, though a bit too quickly. 

“Did you say something?”

“Me? No,” he tried to conceal his lie with a cough, “I-I, uh, think it’s your turn,” he then changed the subject, gesturing to the pool table behind you. 

  © 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | being caught together

୨ৎ : featuring : lando norris, oscar piastri, kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, and yuki tsunoda (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis : being caught together after telling everyone you guys weren't even dating...

୨ৎ : genre : comedic romance ୨ৎ : tws : cursing ୨ৎ : word count : 1853

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : part one will always include: verstappen, hamilton, russell, sainz, and leclerc. part two will always include: lando norris, oscar piastri, kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, and yuki tsunoda! <3 (every f1 grid story is released on saturdays @ 8pm and @ 10pm est)

ʚ・lando norris

you and lando had spent months insisting that you were just friends.

no one believed it, of course. but you had managed to dodge the questions, ignore the teasing, and brush off the lingering stares.

until you ruined it.

it happened during a casual lunch with some of the grid. the conversation had been normal enough—until oscar, of all people, asked a completely harmless question.

"if you had to order for someone without asking them, do you think you'd get it right?"

carlos shrugged. "depends on the person."

charles nodded. "i’d get arthur’s order right, but no one else’s."

lando scoffed. "none of you would get mine."

and before you could think, before you could stop yourself, the words just came out.

"that’s not true," you said. "oat milk flat white, extra hot, one sugar if it’s before noon, but no sugar if it’s after."

silence.

the entire table went dead quiet.

lando blinked at you, stunned.

carlos raised an eyebrow. "…what."

you felt every molecule in your body freeze as realization hit.

you had just exposed yourself in the worst way possible.

lando, still looking at you like you had just unlocked a deeply personal secret, tilted his head. "how do you… know that?"

you scrambled for an answer. "lucky guess?"

charles let out a low whistle. "ohhh, no. that was too specific."

oscar smirked, clearly enjoying the situation. "and she didn’t even hesitate."

lando, still way too amused, leaned in slightly. "what else do you know?"

you needed to get out of this. "nothing!"

lando narrowed his eyes. "favorite post-race meal?"

you swallowed. "chicken pesto pasta."

"pet peeve?"

"when people scrape their utensils against the plate."

"favorite childhood movie?"

"shrek."

the moment the word left your mouth, you knew it was over.

carlos choked on his drink. "no way—"

charles leaned back, laughing. "you are so in love with him."

your face burned. "i am not!"

lando, looking way too smug now, crossed his arms. "well, you definitely pay attention to me."

you grabbed your drink, taking the longest sip of your life to avoid looking at him.

lando leaned closer, his voice low, teasing, just for you. "kind of cute that you know me so well, though."

and that was when you realized—you were never living this down.

ʚ・oscar piastri

you had been so careful.

for months, you and oscar had kept things lowkey. no public outings that looked too couple-y, no obvious flirting around people who would catch on, and definitely no social media slip-ups.

until, of course, you accidentally exposed yourself.

it started with something so innocent—a simple café photo for your instagram story. a well-framed shot of your latte, a book, and the warm, aesthetically pleasing lighting of a cozy melbourne café.

it was perfect.

until someone noticed the hand in the background.

at first, you didn’t think anything of it.

until your phone blew up.

@/f1updates: so uh… who’s hand is that, bestie? 👀 @/mclarenfan99: guys that’s so oscar’s watch wtf @/piastristan: wait i zoomed in that’s his hand @/lando_norris: oh. oh this is good. @/oscartheferrari: you fumbled your own soft launch 😭😭 your stomach dropped.

you clicked on your own story, staring at the very obvious, very identifiable hand resting on the table—wearing oscar’s exact watch, with oscar’s exact freckles, positioned in a way that very clearly suggested you weren’t just hanging out as friends.

and then, just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, oscar texted you.

oscar: so i guess we’re soft launching now?

you: i didn’t mean to

oscar: try telling that to the entire internet.

panicking, you deleted the story—but it was far too late.

because minutes later, lando reposted it on his own story with one simple caption:

"nice watch, mate. 😉"

you wanted to die.

by the time you saw oscar again, he was way too amused, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. "so," he said, biting back a smirk, "want me to post a hard launch?"

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. "i am never living this down."

oscar just chuckled, reaching over to steal a sip of your drink. "well, at least now we don’t have to hide it anymore."

and that was how you learned—there is no such thing as an accidental soft launch.

ʚ・kimi antonelli

you hadn’t even noticed.

really, you hadn’t.

the group hangout had been easy, casual—everyone sprawled across couches, floor cushions, and bean bags while watching a random movie none of you were actually paying attention to.

and somehow, at some point during the night, you had ended up practically wrapped around kimi.

it wasn’t intentional. you had just been sitting next to him, and then someone shifted, and you moved a little closer, and then it was just comfortable.

your legs were tangled, his arm was resting behind you on the couch, and every so often, you felt the slightest pressure when he leaned into you.

it wasn’t a big deal. until someone pointed it out.

george, ever the observant one, was the first to notice.

"not to ruin the moment," he said, smirking, "but are you guys going to explain what’s happening over there?"

you frowned, pulling your attention away from the screen. "what?"

george raised an eyebrow. "you two are practically—" he motioned vaguely between you and kimi. "intertwined."

you glanced down—and oh.

yeah. your entire lower body was tangled with kimi’s.

one of his legs was slotted between yours, your calf was resting against his, and his hand was literally on your thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you froze.

kimi, meanwhile, just blinked. "what about it?"

lando, now noticing, wheeled around to face him. "what do you mean, ‘what about it’?!"

kimi shrugged. "she’s comfortable. i’m comfortable."

george exchanged a look with oscar, who looked one second away from laughing. "but you’re literally cuddling," george pointed out.

you felt your entire body heat up. "we are not—"

kimi, completely unfazed, adjusted his position slightly, hand still resting on your leg like it belonged there. "i don’t see the problem."

you turned to look at him, betrayed. "kimi!"

"what?" he asked, eyes flickering to yours, lips twitching just slightly. "you don’t seem to mind."

lando lost it. "oh my god, they’re actually worse than charles and his denial phase."

george smirked. "i give it two weeks before they admit it."

your entire body was on fire.

kimi, still completely unbothered, leaned in slightly, voice low enough for only you to hear. "you don’t actually want me to move, do you?"

you swallowed hard. no.

but there was no way you were admitting that out loud.

so, instead, you groaned, covering your face. "i hate all of you."

kimi just chuckled, leaning back like nothing had happened. but his hand?

yeah. he never moved it.

ʚ・ollie bearman

you had been so careful.

for months, you and ollie had managed to keep whatever this was completely under wraps. no suspicious glances, no unnecessary touches in public, and definitely no getting caught leaving each other’s places at odd hours.

until, of course, you did.

it was way too early—the kind of early where the streets were still quiet, the sky barely waking up, and the world felt like it belonged to you and ollie alone.

you had slipped out of his apartment, hoodie pulled over your head, moving casually like you weren’t trying to look suspicious. it was fine, really. no one was awake to see you, and you had made it almost all the way down the hallway.

then, the worst thing imaginable happened.

the elevator doors dinged open—and standing there, fully awake and looking way too amused, was none other than george russell.

your soul left your body.

george took one look at you, at the way you were still in last night’s clothes, at the very familiar hoodie you were wearing—ollie’s hoodie—and his entire face lit up with realization.

"ah," he said, stepping out of the elevator, his smirk growing by the second. "good morning."

you froze. "uh—hi."

george raised an eyebrow, glancing over your shoulder at ollie’s door. "interesting place to be leaving so early."

you wanted to die.

"don’t say anything," you blurted out, already panicking.

george crossed his arms, absolutely thriving in this situation. "and why wouldn’t i say anything?"

before you could think of a good excuse, ollie’s door swung open behind you.

and there he was—sleepy, shirtless, hair a mess, looking far too comfortable as he leaned against the doorframe.

and then he saw george.

ollie blinked. "oh."

george’s grin tripled in size.

ollie, still half asleep, looked at you, then at george, then back at you. "well."

you buried your face in your hands. "we are so screwed."

george clapped ollie on the shoulder, barely holding in his laughter. "i’ll let the others know you’re both alive," he said, walking away. "have fun explaining this one."

ollie sighed as the elevator doors closed behind him. "well, that could’ve gone worse."

you looked at him dead in the eye. "really? how?"

ollie just smirked, reaching out to tug on the sleeve of his hoodie—the one you were still wearing. "at least now you don’t have to sneak out next time."

and, honestly?

you hated how much you liked that idea.

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

you and yuki had been so sure that no one suspected a thing.

sure, you spent a lot of time together. sure, you had an obvious soft spot for each other. sure, yuki always found some excuse to touch you—whether it was an arm around your shoulder, a hand on your waist, or an absentminded head leaning against yours when he got tired.

but that didn’t mean you were dating.

or at least, that’s what you had convinced yourselves.

until you absolutely blew it.

it started when pierre—who had been grilling you both for months—finally asked, "so, when are you two just going to admit it?"

you immediately scoffed. "admit what?"

pierre leaned back, crossing his arms. "that you’re together."

yuki, sitting beside you, snorted. "we are definitely not dating, okay?"

pierre and charles exchanged knowing looks. "right."

"we just spend a lot of time together," yuki continued, waving a hand casually. "because we’re friends."

pierre nodded, clearly holding back a grin. "friends."

"yes!" yuki huffed. "and, okay, maybe we cuddle sometimes, but that’s just, like, a comfort thing. it’s not a big deal."

you blinked, glancing at yuki. "yuki—"

he kept going. "and, sure, maybe we kiss—"

silence.

your soul left your body.

pierre choked. charles’s eyes widened.

yuki froze, realizing way too late what he had just said.

pierre grinned like the devil himself. "you… kiss?"

yuki’s face turned bright red. "i—that’s not—what i meant was—"

pierre turned to you, smug as hell. "is there anything you’d like to add?"

you groaned, covering your face. "i hate it here."

pierre leaned forward, thriving in your misery. "so when’s the wedding?"

yuki, now fully spiraling, just muttered, "i am never speaking again."

but it didn’t matter.

because the damage was done, and neither of you could deny it anymore.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[jaeyunnz]

"Booksmart, Bedroom smarter."

jake + f¡reader + sunghoon. 18+

WARNINGS — making out, edging, pet names (princess, babygirl, doll, etc.) praising, double penetration, cum eating, squirting, unprotected sex (dont do it, stay safe.) dirty talk.

You're tangled up with Jake and Sunghoon—nerds with dirty secrets. Two seemingly innocent, studious boys whose hidden desires come to light.

Note: this seemed to be requested by a few. i worked really hard on it, i think it might be my best work and definitely my longest one. i've spent over a month working on this so nonetheless, enjoy — this is proofread. ♡

The quiet hum of the library surrounded you, the air thick with the scent of old books and fresh paper. A dull desk lamp cast a soft glow over the scattered notes and open textbooks, but none of you had been paying attention for the last fifteen minutes. The original plan was to study for an upcoming physics exam, but focus had slipped through your fingers the moment Sunghoon started absently chewing on the end of his pen, and Jake had stretched lazily, his hoodie slipping just enough to reveal a sliver of toned skin.

You were supposed to be studying, but the air between you three had been charged all evening at the library—longer than that, if you were honest with yourself.

Jake adjusted his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as he leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur. “You’re seriously telling me you don’t get this equation?” He smirked, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with something unreadable behind them. “I think you just like when I explain things to you.”

Sunghoon huffed from across the table, twirling his pen between his fingers. “Yeah, or maybe she just wants attention from both of us. You do ask a lot of questions.” His tone was teasing, but there was an underlying challenge in his voice, something he wasn’t quite saying out loud.

Your pulse quickened, heat creeping up your neck. It wasn’t unusual for them to flirt—they’d always been like this, pushing and testing boundaries, testing the line between playful and something deeper. But tonight, the tension felt different. More tangible.

Jake tilted his head, lips curving into a knowing smile. “If she wanted attention, she could’ve just said so.” His hand brushed against yours as he reached for his notebook, a fleeting touch that lingered longer than necessary.

Sunghoon exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “This is ridiculous. You realize we haven’t gotten through a single chapter, right?” He shot you a glance, something playful but dark glinting in his eyes. “Should we just admit we’re not actually here to study?” Jake chuckled, closing his textbook with a soft thud. “Okay where are we going with this...” you say, raising an eyebrow.

The air between the three of you grew impossibly heavy, the weight of unspoken words and months of teasing finally pressing in from all sides. Your heart pounded as their gazes locked onto you, both of them waiting for something—your not quite sure what though. "Sunghoon can explain that," Jake looks at him, wiggling his eyebrows. "Can you guys focus for one moment? This exam is worth a lot and I'm not about to flop from distractions." Sunghoon huffs out, irritated.

"We've been working all day, I'm sure a short break won't hurt." Jake looks at you, "Right?" He smirks playfully, waiting for a response. "Mhm," you reply back.

Jake’s smirk deepened at your agreement, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against the desk. “See? Even she thinks we deserve a break.” Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn. “Fine. But if I fail this test, I’m blaming you both.”

Jake chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, yeah. You stress too much.” His foot nudged yours under the table—light, barely noticeable, but intentional. Sunghoon glanced at you, something unreadable in his expression. “What do we even do for a break?” Jake hummed, shifting closer to you, his knee brushing yours. “Dunno. But I can think of a few things.” His voice was lower now, teasing, but there was an edge to it—something almost daring.

"What is happening? You both are acting strange. Especially Jake." Sunghoon scoffs at your words. “He's always playing around.” Jake turned to you instead. “But she doesn’t mind, do you?” His gaze lingered, a flicker of something playful but intense behind his eyes. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “You like when I mess with you.”

Your breath hitched. The air suddenly felt thick, charged with something neither of them were saying outright—but it was there, simmering beneath months of teasing, lingering glances, and fleeting touches.

Sunghoon exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a smirk, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to your lips for just a second before he looked away. “We’re wasting time.” But there was no real bite to his words.

Jake only grinned. “So? Maybe she doesn’t mind wasting a little time with us.” The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t joking anymore. You stare at them both, blankly and confused. "I don't think we are on the same page," you say softly.

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop Jake when he reached for your hand, his fingers trailing lightly over yours before settling against your wrist. “If we’re taking a break, we should at least make it worth it,” Jake murmured. "If you know what we mean," his hand slides down to your thigh, gently caressing. This causes your body to shiver slightly.

"No, I don't know what neither of you mean. I'm completely lost actually," That was a lie. You know what they want, you just wanna hear them say it.

Sunghoon’s gaze flickered between you and Jake, then he sighed, shaking his head. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered—before standing and reaching for your other hand. He pulled you up gently but firmly, his grip warm and steady. Jake gets up as well, standing behind you, his hand trailing down to grab your waist and yank you closer to him, your cheeks turning bright red. “We wanna fuck,” he said, voice controlled but laced with something heavier.

You swallow hard, looking up at them. "Excuse me?–" Jake lowers his head down to your level, leaving a trail of kisses on your neck which causes you to bite your lower lip, despite feeling shocked from whats happening. I mean fuck, you never thought they'd want something like this? You thought they were always focused on grades and thats it.

"You didn't get it the first time, or second..." his finger slides underneath your shirt, his cold fingertips eliciting a moan from you. "So I'm being straightforward." Sunghoon watches you both, his serious demeanour breaking," My dorm is the closest," Jake smirked at him, letting you go. “Lead the way, Hoon.”

And just like that, studying was completely forgotten.

As you walked out of the library, the buzz of the campus seemed distant, as if the world had narrowed down to just the three of you. Sunghoon led the way, pulling you toward the dorms, his grip firm on your hand. Jake followed closely behind, his eyes never leaving you. The tension was almost suffocating, and every step you took felt heavier, like you were being pulled toward something you couldn't stop.

When you reached Sunghoon's room, he barely bothered with the door, pushing it open and guiding you inside. His eyes were intense, focused on you, as if everything about this moment depended on what you did next.

Jake was right behind you, his hands immediately finding your waist as he pressed his chest against your back. And there he went, stepping closer, his breath warm on your neck. He traced his fingers lightly along your arm, sending a shiver through you. "We've waited too long for this." His voice was barely above a whisper, his lips grazing your ear as he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a kiss.

The kiss was urgent, like a dam breaking.

Jake's lips were soft but insistent, his hands coming to rest on your hips, pulling you into him as if he couldn't get close enough. Sunghoon's hand slipped to your back, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as he kissed the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

Everything about the moment felt electric. You could feel the way both of them moved together, not competing but complementing each other, their touches igniting a fire that had been building for months. Jake's hands were everywhere-on your hips, your back, your face-as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing against yours.

Jake's lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin, sending a surge of heat through your veins. You arch your back against Sunghoon's chest when you felt him leave sloppy wet kisses on your shoulder with his cold hands caressing and gliding over the soft skin of your thighs. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he murmured, voice rough.

A part of you wanted to stop, it felt wrong but so right.

Your sandwiched between them, Jake sucking hard onto the skin of your neck to leave a purple hickey, a moan escaping your lips, "Ah mmph Jake.." he smirks at you, lifting his head up to meet your eyes.

Your pulse hammered as Jake’s smirk turned downright predatory, his dark eyes glinting with a need that sent a jolt straight to your core. “You’re fucking trembling,” he rasped, his voice dripping with raw lust as his thumb grazed over the fresh, throbbing hickey on your neck, making you whimper. He shot a quick, wicked glance at Sunghoon, some unspoken agreement flashing between them, before he crashed his lips back into yours, tongue pushing past with a hungry, desperate edge, tasting every moan you couldn’t hold back. Sunghoon’s hold on you turned possessive, his hard chest flush against your back, trapping you between their heat.

"You’ve got no idea how long we’ve fantasized about this,” he growled low in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your skin, making you shudder. His hands slid down, gripping your hips with bruising force before dipping lower, fingers teasing under the waistband of your pants, skimming over the sensitive skin with a touch that burned. His mouth latched onto the crook of your neck, sucking hard enough to leave another mark, his tongue flicking over the spot as you squirmed against him.

"F-fuck, Hoon..." Your head spun, caught in a haze of their scent. Jake’s faint cologne mixing with Sunghoon’s clean, musky warmth—and the overwhelming press of their bodies. These nerds, the guys you thought were all about textbooks and grades, were fucking unraveling you, peeling back every layer with dark, primal intent. Jake’s hands shoved your shirt up, exposing your stomach to the cool air, his rough palms dragging over your ribs, thumbs brushing just under the edge of your bra as he groaned, “Shit, you feel so good.” His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, pulling a shaky moan from your throat.

“Tell us how bad you want this,” he demanded, voice thick, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your knees weak, daring you to give in completely. "I want it so bad.. please." Your chest heaved as Jake’s intense stare pinned you in place, his words still echoing in your head, dripping with filthy promise. The air was thick with lust, every fucking touch from them setting your nerves on fire. Sunghoon’s smirk burned against your neck as his deft fingers popped the button on your pants, yanking them down with a hungry impatience.

"Gonna make you feel so fucking good,” he growled, voice rough as sin, his breath hot and ragged while his hands roamed your bare skin like he owned every inch. Jake didn’t waste a goddamn second, ripping your shirt off and tossing it aside, his eyes devouring the sight of you half-naked, vulnerable between them. His calloused fingers traced the lace of your bra before he dove down, sucking and biting along your collarbone, leaving red marks as his hands shoved your pants and panties off in one go.

The sudden chill on your slick, aching pussy made you shudder, but their heat swallowed you right back up. Jake’s mouth crashed into yours again, tongue fucking into you with desperate need, while his hands gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise, yanking you flush against him. Sunghoon stripped behind you, his shirt long gone, and you felt the hard, throbbing bulge of his cock through his jeans as he rutted against your ass, slow and deliberate, making you whine, "Sunghoon... fuck."

“You ready to take us both, sweetheart?” he rasped in your ear, voice pure filth, as his fingers hooked into your panties and dragged them down, leaving your dripping cunt and tight ass exposed to their greed. "Mm.." you mouth out quietly. He kicked off his jeans, and the raw heat of his bare skin against yours had you trembling with want. Jake pulled back, eyes dark and feral as he stripped down, his thick, hard cock springing free, already leaking precum as he stared at you like a predator about to feast.

He guided you down onto the nearest surface—fuck, could’ve been a bed, a couch, who cares—spreading your legs wide as he knelt between them. Sunghoon mirrored him, shedding his clothes, his own dick just as hard and ready, the sight of their pulsing lengths making your pussy clench with desperate need. They moved like they’d planned this shit for months—Jake at your front, hands spreading your trembling thighs as he lined his fat cock up with your soaked entrance, teasing the tip against your clit until you whimpered. Sunghoon took your back, his rough palms sliding down your spine, spreading your cheeks as he pressed his leaking tip against your tight hole.

“Relax, baby, we’ve got you,” Jake muttered, voice thick with lust, as he pushed in slow, his cock stretching your pussy wide, the burn turning to a deep, aching pleasure that ripped a moan from your throat, "Ah f-fuck!" Sunghoon groaned low as he eased into your ass, inch by fucking inch, the tight ring of muscle giving way to his thick shaft, the dual stretch of them filling you up so goddamn full you could barely breathe.

“Fuck, so tight,” he hissed, gripping your hips hard as they both started to move, Jake’s thrusts deep and punishing, Sunghoon’s slower but just as brutal, their cocks dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. The wet slap of skin on skin, their grunts, and your broken moans filled the air as they fucked into you, their pace picking up, driving you straight to the edge of fucking oblivion.

Their cocks pounding relentlessly, stretching your soaked pussy and tight ass to the goddamn limit. Jake’s hands clamped down on your thighs, spreading you wider as he slammed in, sweat dripping down his temple, his breath ragged as he snarled, “Fuck, you’re so tight, squeezing me so good.” His eyes burned into yours, wild with lust, every thrust hitting deeper, making you scream their names. "a...ah shit-" is all your able to mouth out.

The feeling of being filled to the limit makes your eyes roll back in a daze. Sunghoon’s fingers bruised your hips, his cock driving into your ass with brutal force, his pace faltering as he groaned against your ear, “Shit, I can’t hold it—gonna fill this tight cunt.” The pressure of them both, the wet, obscene sounds of their cocks sliding in and out, pushed you past your breaking point. Your body convulsed, pussy and ass clenching hard around them as you came, a shattered moan ripping from your throat, your vision blurring with pure, fucked-out bliss.

Jake’s control snapped, his hips jerking as he buried himself deep, a guttural “Fuck!” escaping him as he unloaded, hot cum flooding your pussy, spurt after thick spurt coating your insides. Sunghoon growled low, thrusting once, twice more before he exploded too, his cock throbbing as he pumped his load into your ass, the heat of it seeping deep, making you whimper at the overwhelming fullness. "ah f-fuckk!" you shout out, body trembling.

They rode out their highs, grinding slow and deep, ensuring every drop stayed inside you, marking you as theirs. After a tense, breathless moment, they eased out, their cocks slipping free with a wet, filthy sound, cum leaking from both your holes, dripping down your thighs as you shuddered at the sudden emptiness. Jake smirked, still panting, as he helped you sit up, his voice dripping with dark promise, “Not done with you yet, baby.” Sunghoon’s eyes glinted with agreement as he stood beside Jake, both their dicks still half-hard, slick with cum and your juices, twitching at the sight of you fucked-out and trembling.

"m..more?" Sunghoon’s hand fisted in your hair, tugging just hard enough to tilt your head up as he growled, “Mhm. Open that pretty mouth.” You obeyed, lips parting, tongue out as he guided his thick cock past your lips, the bitter, musky taste of his cum and your ass flooding your senses. You sucked him down, hollowing your cheeks, his low hiss urging you on as he rocked his hips slightly. Jake stepped in next, stroking his glistening shaft before you switched, taking him deep into your throat, the salty remnants of his cum from your pussy mixing on your tongue as he groaned.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” his hand cupping your face while you worked him over. They alternated, using your mouth like their personal toy, grunting and swearing under their breath until they hit their limits again. "Gghh.." you gag around their cocks. Sunghoon came first this time, thick ropes of cum shooting down your throat as he held your head steady, forcing you to swallow every fucking drop. Jake followed right after, his load spilling over your tongue, hot and sticky, as he muttered, “Good fucking girl,” watching you gulp it down with hazy, satisfied eyes. When they finally pulled away, chests heaving, they softened almost instantly.

Jake dropped to his knees in front of you, brushing damp hair from your face with a gentle hand, a lopsided grin breaking through the haze of lust. “You’re unreal, you know that?” he said, voice warm now, thumb tracing your swollen lips. Sunghoon collapsed beside you, pulling you into his chest, his heartbeat steady under your cheek as he kissed the top of your head. “We didn't hurt you, did we?” he whispered, his tone quiet but sincere. "N-no.. that was amazing." you whisper out breathless. The three of you melting into a tangled, sated pile, the raw heat fading into something softer, sweeter, as you basked in the afterglow together.

you made it to the end. i wanted to explain why i was on a almost—3 month hiatus now. its quite personal but i started exams and went through a break up—ofcourse i feel much better and im happy to say ill be writing again! thank you so much for all the support on my work, its much appreciated. and also thank you to @w2hoonki for requesting this idea !! <3 i hope you all are doing well.🥹💘

[wingedfuncomputer]

The outskirts of Town

Remmick x fem!reader

Summary: Living far from town with a father who treats you more like a maid instead of a daughter proves itself exhausting. Secluded like a bird in a cage, a boring cycle life becomes until a random man shows up one night striking up an innocent deal. In name of your chicken coop you accept letting him in. Though as time passes & whispers of violence roughing a sweet couple up around town has you rethinking this weird relationship you have created with the Irish stranger who seemed to come out of thin air.

Warnings: naive!reader, apart from that none really just your father lowkey being rude to Remmick cause he’s Irish 💔.

Authors note: This is just a slice of what I’ve been writing for Remmick. My actual word count for the story is 8.5k as of now, close to finishing but I wanted to see if it’s something you Remmick lovers would want to see (I know it’s pretty lengthy). My story is aimed at not just the romance but scare factor? If that’s what you can call it. no full fledged smut or healthy romance here just trying to ground myself in realistic outcomes. I don’t think that man could love normally lmao. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 1.4K Fic playlist Full Fic!

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From a far his eyes locked on her. Right as the sun set she was tending the little chickens, ushering them into the coop. Softly, she tried her hardest to close the door as if not wanting to scare them. A regular passer by wouldn't glance an eye she was a normal little thing, but not to him, not to Remmick.

It was primal how he always found himself being dragged back to her every time the sun decided to hide behind the horizon. Her sweat, her skin, her pulsing blood enticed him as if he'd known her before. She was too sweet to ravish like all those ol' people he had left a mess of before. He let himself get enveloped in the idea that his human mind,what little of it remained had.Affection. With that utterly disgusting revelation he decided to knock on her door to put an end to the feeling once and for all. Heavy, knuckles contacted the chipping paint of the wood.

You had been sweeping the floor when you heard a noise coming from the front door. A little startled your active swipe back and forth stopped confused by who would be visiting your father so late at night. Most people weren't out after sun down. "The floors ain't gon' sweep themselves keep at it girl". His gruffy voice made you grip the wooden stick tighter negating the fact it caused splinters to get stuck to your skin. It was old, long due to be  thrown away but your voice was nonexistent in this house. With a small creak a hesitant humble from a very male voice spoke, "good afternoon... sir".  You whipped your head around intrigued but found your father's body blocking the man who stood at the door. "State your business". He had never learnt kindness, it was a foreign thing to him. "I'm just a lowly traveler going on by, was wonderin' if you could offer some hospitality". A huff emitted from your father as the man continued. "My wife she's no longer with us.. I must find myself across the state but the sun is beating and unforgiving".  Your heart  ached for him, he sounded defeated. Your father surely would say mean ol' things to him n’ get violent. But suprisingly he laughed barking your name then proceeded orders at you, "fetch this man a cup of water". Only for a split second when he turned were you able to capture a glimpse, the man already looking directly at you. His features resembled my father's, except for his frame he looked thinner his face covered in what seemed to be a mix of dirt and sweat. You nod and quickly keep your eyes down. Whilst you grab a tin cup and fill it with water by the sink you hear the small hushing of their conversation asking where he was headed to and why. Your steps are weary making sure you don't spill the water.

"The Catholics did a number on my people kindness is hard to come by. Could you let me in don't want to bother the young lady much?" His first comment is what makes your father's demeanor change, you see it from a few feet away as his back tenses. He ignores the man's request to come inside, "Where you from boy?". Once only a few inches away you decide to lay down the cup by a piece of furniture near by. Eyes creeping behind your father's shoulders it was obvious to see the man was not a boy. He had good amount of muscle on his arms and lines on his face. There's a glint of a smirk in the strangers lips as he glances at you no lack of confidence, "Ireland". That's when your heart drops, with poison your father spits "get your filthy Irish ass off my f*cking property".

"I don't mean no disrespect, I'd still appreciate that water" he takes a step forward which makes your father push him you yelp afraid they'd have a full brawl and the innocent man would end up in his grave. "You won't get nothin' here ! Leave my property". Your hands go up to your father’s arms as you can see his anger exalt, his fist itching to make contact with the Irish man's face. "Father please..." his face full of anger is concentrated on you before shoving your hand away and instead drags you inside from your arm instead. "It's best if you learn to keep away from men like that ." He speaks as if the man wasn't there, you can't help but take a look once behind you once more offering a look of "I'm sorry" before the front door is slammed shut by your father.

That whole night you couldn't bring yourself to sleep tossing and turning, imagining what that poor man was going through. You didn't hear about him the following day or day after that until you found yourself reluctantly putting yet another dead bird into a sack. They were being  ripped to shreds, you made sure the coop was secured each night so what could be killing them? It was sundown, the night air hitting your skin in a way that made your hairs stick up. "coyote... or fox" your body jolts hearing someone break the silent spell in the air. Immediately letting the bag fall and taking steps back as you twist to see who the voice belonged to. "Apologies I didn't mean to scare ya". It was hard to see in the darkness but the moonlight along with your small lamp on the ground allowed you to see enough to say, "your the man from a few days ago". He was standing behind the fence that surrounded your chicken coop. "Guilty as charged" you couldn't help but laugh along with him. "I'm Remmick" he extends his hand towards you which you can only just stare at. It would've been appropriate to say your name and envelope his hand but you don't. Remmick you repeat in your head liking the ring it had to it. "My Irish hands too dirty" he murmurs to himself  which makes you start to ramble in apologies insuring his heritage had nothing to do with your lack of a response. " f’course not It's just that, no offense sir your a- your a...." Your stuttering makes heat flood your cheeks in embarrassment . "A stranger?" He says it so casually no anger laced in between his words just light heartedness. You both stare at each other in an awkward pause before you find the courage to nod. Guilt weighs in your soul after reflecting "I'm truly ashamed about what happened last time, my father...-that is no way to be treated". He just smiles, a little huff of air being exhaled as he leaned into the fence, "it happens more than you know darlin' nothin' personal". His deep voice grumbles nicely when he calls you by that little pet name making your stomach flutter. It must've been as clear as the night sky you weren't allowed around men often, let alone other people.

Remmick seems intrigued by you growing quiet tilting his head to the side as he quirks , "the way across the state ain't an easy one.. stayin’ around these parts is easier. would help if I had a place to rest... ". You would offer him your home in a heartbeat but you knew how your pops wasn't fond of him, let alone yourself. He could barely tolerate you so how would tolerate this stranger . His eyes are trained on your every twitch, your chest constricting and trembling hands playing with the loose fabric of your skirt. It was quite nice really it felt like you were a lil' rabbit troubled by your surroundings. Yet You were unaware that the greatest danger wasn't your father, no not your  father it was the devil himself looming over you in this instant.

He smacks his lips making you look back at him once more. His pointer finger is near his mouth faking thought, "well I might just got a deal that could work for both 'f us". Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but you still hear the poor man out. "I can help ya with the lil' chicken problem... in exchange I get a piece of shelter". His eyes nudge at the forgotten sack beneath you then trail up your frame to your face. Your teeth grind in contemplation. If he helped manage the death of these chickens father would probably lay off my back, let me go in town for food trips or what not for the farm.

"So what da ya, say? You gon' let me in?"

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