#Dangerous Reader

[dragonnarrative-writes]

KinkVember 12 - High Protocol

Gary "Roach" Sanderson x Reader, Featuring Ghost, Mace, Gaz, and Soap

Read on AO3

CW: Partial nudity, non-con touching, physical strike (not as a part of established play), kneeling, knives (present, but not used), praise

Notes: Gary "Roach" Sanderson experiences mutism due to injury to his throat. He uses British Sign Language, but he and the reader have established hand signals that are not standard BSL as part of their dynamic. When Roach is speaking, Simon interprets for the people at the table who aren't fluent in BSL.

You tilt your head when you hear a low whistle from the den. You finish the serving platter you're working on with an answering two-note whistle. It's the work of a moment to slide the platter into the fridge and trade it for five bottles of water before setting out to see to Gary and his guests.

You see Johnny, Kyle, Simon and Mason looking at you as you walk in. Their eyes dart down to your breasts and then down to the skirt that you know doesn’t fully cover your ass. You cock one hip for them to admire your bare legs, but you only have eyes for your Dom.

You preen a bit when Gary looks up and almost signs for water, then grins to see you've anticipated his request. When he circles a finger, you step into the room and start offering water to his guests.

It’s an interesting headspace to be in. You feel their eyes on you, but you’re not partially nude. This is your home, where you are most comfortable. You’re partially clothed, for their sake. You offer refreshments because Gary’s guests are your guests; there is no deference, or shame. You follow Gary because you want to, because he offers orders freely and demands nothing from you. You have power here, even if you’re not in control.

So, when Johnny runs an appreciative hand up the back of your thigh, you don’t hesitate to knock his arm away and then crack your palm against his face.

Gary’s whistle stutters as he tries to call you though his laughter. You go to stand behind his shoulder, and offer your hand for his inspection. He holds your wrist gently, but he doesn’t need to check you for injury. You know how to hit a man, and the slap was more of a warning than anything. He kisses the inside of your wrist before addressing the rest of the table.

A solid hit, he signs, as Simon interprets. He grins at Johnny’s quickly reddening face. Told you to keep your hands to yourself. To you, he signs, Kneel.

You consider the kneeling pillow he’s placed by his side, then fold into it. He signals position 5 or 7, so you settle with your back straight, hands on your thighs, shoulders relaxed. From this angle, you can only see thighs, and Gary’s left hand. He pinches three fingers to his thumb. Hold.

Above you, Mason rumbles, “Don’t think she should be punished for that.”

Gary’s hand disappears, and Simon’s voice says. “’She’s not being punished. She gets to relax now. None of you gets to look if any of you can’t follow the rules.’”

“Ye cannae blame me,” Johnny whines, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “She’s a right bonnie thing. An’ she usually likes to play.”

“'She’s in a mood,” Simon rumbles. “’You’re lucky she has her orders. She’s armed…’ Where the fuck is she armed?”

Gary snorts as his left hand appears with the hand signal to present arms. Above and to the side of you, you catch Kyle watching from the corner of your eye as you slip your hands under your skirt to unsheathe your palm knives. You raise your hands above the table.

“Steamin’ jesus,” Johnny laughs.

Gary signals for you to resume position 5, so you do. He taps your shoulder, once, twice, three times. Good. Very good. Perfect. You don’t break position, but you purse your lips to catch the edge of his wrist in a kiss.

“Should we go after this round?” Kyle asks, tapping his poker chips on the table in a nervous rhythm. “If she’s not comfortable with us being here.”

“’You wouldn’t have made it through the door if she didn’t want you here.’” Simon chuckles and knocks his own knuckles on the table. “Sounds like she runs the damn ‘ouse, not you. ‘Doesn’t Bambi?’ Olright, you’re not wrong there. But we don’t ‘ave nearly the amount of rules an’ signals that you do.”

You let the noise of their voices turn to background noise as you center yourself. Above the table, Mason shuffles cards. Johnny’s left leg bounces - he’s got a good hand, then - and Kyle stops tapping his chips. Gary’s hand enters your sight line to give you one more signal. Easy. Then he touches the top of your head and gently nudges you to lay your head on his thigh. He taps, once, twice, three times. Four.

Good. Very good. Perfect. I love you.

[pandora-books]

Dangerous Reader. Model: Ardis

[neigepomme]

a few months before getting in a relationship, caleb started adding honey to his vocabulary when it came to referring to you.

it wasn't the first time you'd heard him use it, especially since that was what he called you when you visited him at the DAA, given his fake dating situation. it sometimes also slipped from his mouth when he'd comfort you during thunderstorms — but it was never something common, rather, it was a name reserved for special occasions where he was allowed to cross the boundaries of your relationship.

but when caleb sensed that the line was blurring more and more, he allowed himself to slip honey into his speech. 

“you want chicken wings for dinner? sure, honey.”

“mmh, no honey, i won't be long.”

“honey? i was looking for you.”

the fact that you didn't comment on it, but instead just looked away bashfully while nodding to him, or humming something under your breath spurred him on — that and the fact that you'd give him a confused stare for a second when he called you by your name or pipsqueak instead of honey.

however, something that caleb didn't anticipate was that you'd start using it, too. a little "caleb, honey, did you see my hairtie?" or a "honey, look! that puppy looks just like you." all of a sudden, he was a victim to his schemes as well — not like he'd complain about it, though. it was domestic enough that those around you barely noticed, yet intimate in a way that made both of your hearts full.

some time after you guys defined the relationship, you do ask him about his habit of calling you honey prior to even being in a relationship, and you're met with a smug yet flushed caleb, and he confesses.

“i mean — i was trying to get you used to it. eventually, i'd encounter some success, no?”

“so you were trying to pavlov me into this?”

and to that, caleb grins — a boyish smile that made you fall for him all over again.

“it worked, didn't it? my one and only honey's finally all mine.”

[wonderthor]

dangerous and domestic sukuna🥺🥺

he’s a notorious man in the yakuza. always hunts and kills whoever his boss tells him to. everyone in the underground world is scared of him, and even those that are not usually are as well, with his tattoos all over his body and constantly bruised and scarred knuckles from beating information out of his victims.

but somehow, you’re not. although you’re so innocent you probably wouldn’t know a murderer if you see one. even though you know nothing about his work, yet notice the way others cower in fear around him. you’re not scared of him at all.

maybe it’s the way he comes home, quietly walking into the house and coming up to you. giving you a small, sweet smile as he ruffles your hair or pets your head. let’s out a gruff, “hey sweetheart,” before kissing you on your head. maybe that’s why you don’t understand how dangerous he is. i mean, how could he be? when he comes home and looks at you like you’re the sun that is the center of his world. even though he looks at everyone else like their existence alone bothers him sometimes.

and sometimes he cooks dinner when he comes home. you can’t argue with him on that, he’s surprisingly a great cook. you hand him the plates for him to put the food on and place them nicely on the table. and even though most couples like to sit across from each other, you like to sit next to him and eat while your head rests on his shoulder. when you sit next to him and place your silverware next to the plates, he looks down at you for a minute and grabs your chin to make you face him. for a moment, all you do is stare at each other, studying each other’s face.

“hey, you know you’re mine right?”

it catches you off guard, but you smile back up at him anyway.

“yes sukuna, i know. you tell me all the time.”

he chuckles down at you, moving his hand to softly rub along on your cheek.

“yeah well i just want to make sure you know it, and never forget.”

you kiss his hand when it makes its way to your lips.

“yeah well, i’ll never forget. i’ll always be yours.”

he stares down at you again, darker this time, before clearing his throat and moving to eat his dinner.

“alright baby, eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

you giggle and follow his actions, eating your dinner and dropping your head on his shoulder where it belongs.

[siriuslylantsov]

hellooo spencer likes his partner's lower back

goes a little lovesick everytime he sees your shirt ride up and expose your back and the curve of your hips YUPPPP

yeahhh he does (mdni, this got a little smutty i couldn't help myself)

he loves when you wear low rise jeans and tshirts that only just reach your waistband because everytime you raise your arms, that sliver of skin peeks out and he feels like a victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. a little rush that makes him wanna dig his fingers into your hips. he does, coming up behind you and reaching out, prompting you to jolt because he was on the other side of the room 5 seconds ago. 

he’ll often have a hand splayed over the small of your back, selfishly letting it drift lower than considered decent–but how can he help himself, that little dip is so enticing–he relishes in the way you lean into his touch. he very rarely indulges in pda in front of the team, incredibly wary of the potential teasing it could bring up. but that large hand, fixed to the dip of your back, has a constant grounding presence.

spencer reid is, by all means, a missionary man, he likes being able to look at you, meet your equally blissed out gaze, and you feel the same. but every once in a while, when you need the pressure, the feel of him pushing you into the mattress. you turn on your stomach wordlessly and he jumps at the opportunity, all too eagerly. his hands latch on in an instant, pulling you back to meet his thrusts. he traces his fingers from the nape of your neck all the way down to the base of your spine, in a light reverent caress that makes you shiver. a warm palm abruptly pushes you down, causing you to arch beautifully, presenting your lower back to him on a silver platter. a possessive trance passes over him, seeing you sprawled out like that makes him want to grab, to hold, to make something tangible of how he feels. he runs adoring hands over your sides before his thumbs dig into your flesh in a vice-like grip, it doesn't hurt, but you’re sure there’ll be little purple marks tomorrow. 

he notices them the next morning as he untangles himself from your body to stretch, carefully so he doesn't wake you. the light catches on your body when the covers peel off slightly. wide, guilty, eyes stare at the expanse of skin where your his shirt had ridden up through the night. faint red and violet splotches bloomed where his fingers had been. oh no. he slowly pulls you into his arms, back flush to his chest, where he presses an apologetic kiss to your shoulder.

“i'm sorry baby.”

“f’what?” you mumble, drenched in sleep as his voice rouses you.

he rubs a soft hand over your lower back in answer, kissing your shoulder again, he pouts. “you're all bruised up.”

“oh yeah?” you giggle, like you knew they were there even though you haven't seen them for yourself. 

“why didn't you tell me?” he whines, lips pressed to your neck where he had moved the guilt ridden kisses to. 

“i liked it,” you reassure, turning your head to see him. you kiss his nose, all scrunched up in annoyance with himself. “i’m pretty sure you do too.”

he notes your intentional change in tense but he doesn’t mention it, tucking himself back into the crook of your neck as you close your eyes again. his hand drifts down, you do too, his fingers circle around the marred skin. marred by him, it seems. deviously, that guilt fades into something. pride, egged on by you pushing back into his touch. 

he can't even bear to look between your bodies, the image of your lower back marked up by him causing something dark to pool in his belly. it causes something else to stir as well.

he’ll kiss it better later :)

[bigbaddie45]

Y’all ever read such a good fic with a nice plot just with so many spelling errors?!? Like TF you mean he was “grinong” in her ear or “taiek” her by the waist??

[teliphone]

The Wilderness is Pleased

Lottie Matthews x Fem!Reader x Shauna Shipman 

Warning(s): Manipulation, Biting, Blood, Groping

-

Lottie hands you the teacup with a soft look. You pause for a bit, feeling unsure.

This is not the first time you’ve drunk the special herb tea. You’re only doing it again because Lottie asked. Her face was so excited when she found out you could hear the wilderness. So, she asked you to listen to it again. You couldn’t say no to her face. You felt extremely proud that Lottie found you gifted, even though the tea made you feel paranoid and anxious afterwards. 

You lift your hands to grab onto the teacup. Lottie gives you an assuring and proud smile. She takes a seat next to you with watchful eyes. You examine the brown, warm liquid before looking up at her. She slowly nods her head, placing a finger underneath the cup. She gestures the cup up to your lips. The tip of the cup reaches between your lips, but you pause after hearing some branches snapping. You turn your head to the side to identify the person. 

Shauna reveals herself behind the trees. She silently analyzes you and Lottie. The cup between your hands catches her attention. 

“Can I join?” She breaks the silence. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Shauna never once believed in the wilderness’s presence. In fact, she called it bullshit. Why is she suddenly interested? Before you could ask her, Lottie stood up excitedly. 

“Of course. Come sit here,” She chirps and gestures to the empty spot next to you. She rushes to the fire pit and bends down to pick up the small bucket. She pours it out into another cup. While Lottie is busy doing that, Shauna takes a seat next to you, shoulders brushing against yours. Her face is emotionless, making it hard for you to read her. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in this,” You whisper. Shauna smiles and leans her body towards you, expressing comfort. She shrugs her shoulders. 

“Show me it’s true,” She whispers back. You blush and avert your attention back to the cup of tea. Deep down, you don’t know if it’s true. But Lottie has shown you so much, it’s hard not to believe. 

Lottie comes back and hands Shauna a cup. You watch her hold onto it and quickly bring it to her lips. She chugs the liquid down as if nothing. You widen your eyes at her confidence. Lottie breaks into a wide smile. Adrenaline was coursing through her body even though she didn’t take the drink. You wanted Lottie to be proud of you as well. You immediately follow after. Taking the bittersweet tea down your throat. You grimace at the taste as you place the teacup on the ground. Shauna breaks out into a soft laugh, revealing her teeth. You wipe your lips nervously. Lottie takes a seat in front of the two of you. Eagerness and hope were written all over her face. 

The three of you wait for the tea to kick in. It doesn’t take that long before the two of you start to feel it. You feel your head swaying every time you look around. An annoying buzzing sound reaches your ear. You clench your fist and squeeze your eyes. 

“It’s happening,” Lottie whispers. The buzzing becomes louder, causing you to hyperventilate. You jerk your head around wildly, trying to find the source of the sound. Lottie rushes to your side, her hands touching your thighs. 

“Tell me, what do you hear?” She questions worriedly. 

“I-I don’t know,” You stammer. 

“Listen closer… come on. I know you can,” Lottie assures. She brings her hands up to gently brush your hair. Suddenly, you feel another hand on top of yours. Calloused fingertips rub your knuckles. You look up to see Shauna’s dark brown eyes staring deep into yours. 

“…I hear it,” She breathes out. You slightly widen your eyes. Did It choose Shauna? You frown and close your eyes to focus. No, this can’t be. You must hear it too. 

“What does it say, Shauna?” Lottie asks, still brushing your hair. Shauna licks her lips as she hesitates. 

“It wants me to taste her sweet nectar,” Shauna reveals, eyes dilating. Deep inside, she was lying. She didn’t hear shit. Yes, the tea made her feel loopy and buzzed, but she was still kinda sober. Truthfully, she was only here for you. She knew the advantages she would get. She saw how the last time you were here, Lottie made a bite mark on you. It gave her a brilliant idea. 

You slowly lift your head to look at Shauna. Your head starts to throb and you wince. Maybe you’ve been drinking too much of this tea. 

“Whose nectar?” you manage to say. The words coming out of your mouth don't even make sense. 

“Yours,” Shauna answers. You feel your body freeze and the buzzing noises stop. You carefully look around to make sure the buzzing will come back. It doesn’t. You could only hear the soft gust of wind rustling against the leaves. 

Shauna must be right. That could only explain why the throbbing pain and noises disappeared. The wilderness wanted this moment to happen. 

Lottie seems to understand and reaches down to touch your other hand. She squeezes your palm, making you glance up at her. 

“This is what it wants. Obey it,” She assures, nodding her head. You slowly follow her gesture by nodding your head too. Anything for the wilderness… anything for Lottie. Shauna places her hands underneath your jaw and turns your attention to her. Her lips curve into a small smirk. 

Shauna leans forward, gently capturing your lips against hers. You quickly flutter your eyes shut. Her plump lips move slowly, making your heart pound loudly. You feel Lottie rubbing your knuckles in a soothing tempo. You let out a small pant, making Shauna deepen the kiss. Her thumb continually rubs your lower jaw. 

Shauna starts kissing down your neck, her warm tongue brushing against your skin. You tilt your head back, allowing her more access. Lottie presses her face into your hair.

“Good girl… Let it happen,” She whispers sweetly. Shauna kisses down to the space between your neck and shoulders. Her tongue runs against it before grinding her teeth against your skin. You bring your hands up to hold her head. Suddenly, her teeth start nipping at your skin. You cry out in pain and thrash around. Lottie tightens her hold on you, keeping you still. Shauna moans once your blood coats her tongue. She continues shamelessly sucking and licking, nearly getting drunk. Her tongue and saliva burn your broken skin. She pulls away from you with a smile. Your blood coats her lips and drips to her chin. Lottie’s breathing starts becoming heavy. 

“Thank you for your blessings,” Lottie hums, catching her breath. Shauna slowly licks her lips and chuckles. She stands up and begins to remove her flannel. She drops the flannel onto the ground and pulls her shirt by the neck. She grabs a knife out of her pocket. She lifts it, making you shake in fear, until you watch her slice her skin below the neck. You analyze how her blood runs down and soaks her shirt. 

“Your turn,” She orders. You hesitate again, but Lottie puts her hand out. She pulls you up to stand, one hand on your waist, the other on your head. Without saying anything, she pushes your head down to meet Shauna’s cut. You shut your eyes and nervously stick out your tongue. Her blood tastes metallic and feels warm. You force yourself to bite and suck harder. She moans loudly, buckling her hips into your body. She wraps her hand around your head and pulls you closer. 

“Devore me,” She moans. Your mind spins as you continue biting. You continue kissing her skin for a bit longer till you feel Lottie gently tugging you away. 

“That’s… enough. It says that’s good enough,” Lottie says. You stare at the wet red mess on Shauna’s neck. You shake in shock. No way you just did that. Lottie slides her hand underneath your jaw to make you look at her. Her eyes are extremely dilated. More than you have ever seen, and she didn’t even drink the special tea. She leans her face down and kisses you deeply and gently. Her sneaky hands begin to roam over your body. You feel one hand running down and groping your bottom while the other grips your hair. She moans and chuckles in the kiss from tasting the shared blood. 

Shauna curses under her breath at the scene. The view of you two sharing bloody kisses is so hot to her. She walks up behind you, leaning her lips to your shoulders. She starts kissing and gently biting again. Her hands move up to grope your chest. 

You moan and cry from the feeling of two girls having their way with you. Hums and praises were released from both of their lips. The wind blows harder, making the leaves scatter beneath your feet. The wilderness is pleased.

[chronosdawn]

I’ve been thinking about how good Caleb is at making himself seem harmless. Oh he’d never hurt you, but it’s easy to forget what he can be like with people who threaten your safety when he’s so good to you.

I think this works particularly well with a reverse isekai scenario—one where after playing the game for a while you suddenly find a very real Caleb in your house. It’s a bit awkward but you don’t have the heart to kick him out when he has nowhere else to go and you’re sure he must be desperate to return to MC so he’ll find his way back somehow. You don’t know that he’s been aware of your existence the whole time, that MC has always been his link to YOU and that the only way he’s going back to his world is if you’re coming with him.

He's the perfect house guest too, sleeping on a sofa that’s too small for him without complaint and insisting on helping you around the house. Given that Caleb’s not got any sort of valid ID in this world, it isn’t be easy for him to get a job so helping you like this is the least he can do. Any attempts to make your own food are met with you either being gently guided out of the kitchen so you can relax instead or thrown into the role of sous-chef while Caleb takes care of the bulk of the work.

Time passes, and one night you find yourselves just talking, tangled together on the sofa. You don’t remember when having him in your space started to feel so natural, the accumulation of months of small touches here and there—a hand ruffling your hair, a thumb gently wiping a smudge of makeup from your cheek. Somehow you get onto the topic of one of your exes and the messy breakup that resulted in your current single(?) status. There’s a certain look in Caleb’s eyes, a tightness in his jaw when he asks if you still keep in touch with the guy. You tell him no and feel him relax beneath you.

“You’d tell me if he ever started bothering you again, wouldn’t you?”

And you’ve played the game, you know exactly what Caleb’s like and what he’s capable of, but it’s hard to connect that to the man who carries your bag for you on your commute to work and sees you right up to your office door with a smile, who carries you to bed and carefully tucks you in when you fall asleep watching TV.

It’s probably for the best that those moments from the game remain forgotten, left in a world you haven’t thought much about in months, the app long forgotten on your phone. You’d just better hope nothing ever jeopardises your safety to the point that you get to see THAT side of Caleb in flesh.

[bluesylveon2]

Ace: my ex girlfriend was boring

Also Ace: falls for a magicless girl who is a beast tamer, lives in an old dorm, and has dealt with seven overblots within a year

[matchanon]

originally, phainon is not all that needy or physically affectionate person with anyone. he is friendly sure, and he is well liked on first impression half the time, but he never crosses the line with people he isn’t real close to. he’s friendly and nice, but there’s always a line separating him from most people, a boundary he himself doesn’t realize he has put up until someone mentions it, or maybe you mention it by cooing at how sticky and needy he is compared to how he acts with the public.

because with you? with you it’s different.

he needs to hug you whenever he gets the chance. he loves it when you run your hands through his hair and scalp. he likes hugging you. he swoons when you show him affection or blow him a flying kiss at the gates of okhema (insert mydei disgusted noises). he has to see you at least once a day when he’s in okhema and needs to be up to date with your status if he’s not. he likes holding your hand. he likes kissing you and when you kiss him back; on the lips, on the forehead, on his cheeks, on his hands, he is done. he likes it when you sit on his lap. he likes laying his head on your lap. he loves snuggling your stomach. he also likes listening to your heartbeat or having your face squish against his chest. intertwining both of your hands is a must every now and then.

there are no boundaries when it comes to you. he needs you with him, always, and is addicted to touching you.

“you are such a needy boy,” you coo at him, laughter in your voice.

phainon only melts all the more, seeing you like this. he can’t help but lean down and smooch your cheeks.

[wonderthor]

your neighbor sukuna who lives in one of the apartments upstairs may be a rough and dangerous man, but he’s funny and nice to you, so you become friends anyway. you even develop a little crush on him, and when he calls you little pet names like sweetheart and doll, you start to think he might like you too. one night you decide to go out for drinks, and as he drinks more he lets out more about his past and you learn he is a little more dangerous than you thought. he talks about how he broke into people’s houses at night all the time to steal their things and when he finally did get caught and locked up, he had probably broke into over 200 people’s houses by then.

“that’s crazy, but you wouldn’t get that lucky with me though”

he sets his beer down, raising his eyebrow at you in question.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that im a very light sleeper, always have been. and there’s no way you couldn’t break into my apartment without me knowing it.”

he picks his beer back up and takes a swig before looking back at you with a smirk.

“you sure about that?”

you confidentially smirk back at him.

“oh absolutely. i get woken up if the wind blows a little too hard against the window. i even woke up that one time i had a mouse in my apartment and i could hear it scurrying across the floor. i would definitely hear you open my door and walk around.”

sukuna taps his fingers against the bar counter with his head in his hands and his eyes still on you, thinking.

“how about we make a bet.”

“a bet? on what?”

“if i can get into your locked apartment and into your bedroom without waking you up, i win. if i do, you win.”

“and what do i get when i win?”

sukuna chuckles at that, almost like a villain’s laugh.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

you roll your eyes at him.

“oh please, you sound way to confident in your impossible chance at winning.”

he laughs at you again.

“i am. there’s a reason i was able to break in so many people’s houses while they were still in there without getting caught. it’s kind of my specialty.”

you take another sip of your drink and lean back.

“your specialty, huh? and you still haven’t mentioned what we get if we win.”

“what do you want?”

his tone caught you off guard for a second, getting deeper and more serious without you expecting it.

“u-um, i don’t know. you can pick.”

he smiles at you again, a devious smile this time as he leans in closer to you.

“if i win, i get to do whatever i want to you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me.”

time stops for a minute and you don’t realize that you’re just staring at him until after several seconds.

“what do you m-mean by that?”

he leans back to hold his beer and his playful demeanor is back.

“well according to you, you won’t have to worry about that, right?”

a couple of days went by and you were still on edge. you mentally slept with your eyes open and even kept your bedroom door cracked, just in case you really couldn’t hear him come in. even though you knew it was just a bet and a silly little game, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest. maybe because you still didn’t really know what he said meant. and there was also the eerie feeling that you were essentially waiting for him to break into your apartment, like a real robber. like the robber he used to be. and even though you knew he wasn’t dangerous to you and wouldn’t hurt you, you were still admittedly a little scared. you truly didn’t know what to expect.

it had been a couple of weeks now and you were sure sukuna was fucking with you. whenever you saw him in passing, he was his normal playful and flirty self, and mentioning nothing of the bet. you were starting to think he was kidding, just making that up to scare you and mess with you. or you also thought he could have just forgotten, since he was drinking a little and couldn’t have forgotten all about it.

but little did you know that you were playing right into his hands. he was waiting on you to lose your edge, to slowly get comfortable enough again to slip into deep and dream-filled sleeps. that’s why you didn’t expect it, why you didn’t expect to lose.

when you woke up one night, you felt your heart fall out of your body and your eyes almost jump from their sockets. there he was, in your apartment, in your bedroom, on your bed, leaning over you on his hands and knees. when he saw that you were awake and too stunned to speak, he smirked and leaned in closer to you until his face was just inches from yours.

“guess i win, sweetheart.”

[shotmrmiller]

i was talking w @xoxunhinged about reader thinking jealousy would look good on Kyle— just his color, you'd decided, and in a silly little thought fueled by the haze of too many drinks, you'd assumed it'd be harmless enough, batting your lashes at some unfortunate guy, imagining Kyle's reaction— a protective arm slung around your shoulders, his sharp glare cutting through the air like a warning.

but there's a dark, quiet danger to him, the kind that you don't see coming until it's too late, like the chill of steel against your skin before you even realize it's there. your drunken mischief spirals, fast and merciless, and before you can process what's happening, wrathful hands drag the man out of the place, leaving you behind, frozen in a stunned silence.

you'd expected at most a sharp word or two, something restrained, a reminder of the line that had almost been crossed, not waking up to find that guy as a headline, his face staring back at you on the television, frozen in a grainy photo, deceased, the ends to that investigation tied too neatly.

your eyes drift to his hands, nimble fingers screwing off the cap of the bottle of orange juice, and you see what you missed last night, when he'd wrapped those same hands around your throat as he swallowed every keen and moan. the bruising. it blooms dark and angry across his knuckles, the skin split in certain places, swollen and raw. they look like they've been through war.

his voice breaks the silence first, metal against stone. "a shame." the very ground beneath you shifts, a chilly unease creeping into your bones, the pit in your stomach growing, knot in your throat twisting tighter as your mind races with questions you refuse to voice. confrontation would mean peeling back layers you're not ready to see. so instead, you redirect, grasping for something mundane, something safe.

"what do you want to eat for breakfast?" it comes out warbly, uncertain, but it's all you can manage.

warmth returns to his voice, tone laced with a quiet tenderness as he answers, "whatever you want."

(his loyalty runs deep, his love as consuming as his fury. best to remember he does nothing by halves— it's all or nothing. when you're his, you're his completely.)

[allimili]

Would Mr. Eyes bow up at anything else that seemed to be a threat to you like no that's my little person 😤😤

...mr eyes doesn't take second chances.

Extra:

[o9sessions]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY — H.H

↻ 5 times you experience jealousy— and 1 time he does.

↻ fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, suggestive themes

↻ wc; 7.1k

1 —

The familiar ding of the elevator echoed through the Man Cave, reverberating off the metallic walls. You barely glanced up, still savoring the last few fries from the greasy basket in front of you. The smell of salt and oil hung in the air, mixing with the subtle hum of the computers. When you finally did look up, it wasn’t Ray as expected—it was Henry and Charlotte, their laughter spilling in like sunlight breaking through the cold steel of the lair.

They strolled toward the booth, Henry’s hand brushing against Charlotte’s arm as she made some joke you couldn’t hear but felt in the way his eyes crinkled. They collapsed into the soft, foamy cushions across from you, still giggling like schoolkids.

“Did Ray beep you guys too?” you asked, feigning nonchalance as you shifted in your seat, the cushion creaking beneath you.

“Yup,” Henry replied, his voice light, the ‘p’ popping playfully. “He sounded kinda urgent.”

Before you could say more, the sound of Ray’s heavy footsteps thudded in the distance. He emerged from behind the snack bar, dressed in his usual plaid shirt and jeans, pushing a cart laden with neatly stacked manila folders. The air around him smelled faintly of nacho cheese.

“Speak of the devil,” Charlotte quipped, her voice dripping with sarcasm, her eyes rolling in that effortless way she had. Henry chuckled beside her, their laughter vibrating through the booth.

You glanced at the cart as curiosity tugged at you, fingers lightly grazing the folder marked DRILL FINGER as you picked it up. Before you could speak, Henry’s hand reached over, brushing yours as he took the folder from you. The brief touch sent a spark up your arm, but before you could meet his eyes for more than a second, Ray slammed a fresh stack of files onto the table, snapping you both out of the moment.

“They’re mission reports,” Ray grunted. “Sort through them, figure out which villains are in jail and who’s still out there causing trouble.”

The collective groan that followed was immediate, filling the cave with a heavy sense of dread.

“And you’ll be doing… what, exactly?” Charlotte asked, raising an eyebrow at Ray’s retreating form.

“Eating nachos and watching you kids work,” he replied over his shoulder, already heading toward the snack machine.

With a sigh, you reached for a stack of files, the paper crinkling in your hands. It should’ve been a quiet task, but Charlotte soon broke the silence, nudging Henry. “Remember that time you got stuck in that weird dream and I had to save your ass?”

Henry’s laugh was soft but genuine, the sound low in his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, that was one time.”

You tried to stay focused on the mission reports, the feel of the rough paper slipping through your fingers grounding you, but their laughter kept creeping into the corners of your mind. Every shared glance, every inside joke felt like a secret you weren’t part of. Their chemistry was effortless, natural, and it left you feeling like a bystander in a scene that wasn’t meant for you. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the leather squeaking beneath you as you cleared your throat, hoping to draw them back to the task at hand.

But they barely noticed, their world orbiting around each other. Another joke, another laugh. You clenched your jaw, the sound of their shared amusement feeling heavier than the silence that followed.

2 —

The soft murmur of the coffee shop wrapped around you like a blanket, blending with the gentle clinks of ceramic mugs and the rustle of pages turning. The smell of fresh-ground coffee drifted through the air, mixing with the warm scent of cinnamon pastries from behind the counter. You sat tucked away in the back corner, the dim light above casting a soft glow on your open textbooks. Midterms were looming, and you’d come here to focus, hoping the quiet hum of life around you would ease the anxiety brewing in your chest.

But just as your pen glided across your notes, the bell above the door jingled, and out of habit, you glanced up. Your breath caught.

Henry walked in. And with him—Bianca.

You froze, fingers tightening around your pen as you watched them make their way to a small table near the window. Bianca looked effortlessly perfect, her hair catching the afternoon light as she smiled up at Henry, her laughter a melodic hum that echoed faintly across the shop.

You sank lower into your seat, hidden behind a stack of books, heart pounding in your chest. They hadn’t noticed you. The chatter of the coffee shop continued, but all you could focus on was them—the way Bianca’s hand brushed against Henry’s arm as they sat down, the way she leaned in just a little too close when she spoke. Her laughter came easy, bubbling up every time Henry said something, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lit up, even if just for a moment.

Your stomach twisted as Bianca casually reached across the table, her fingers grazing Henry’s. It was subtle, innocent maybe, but the gesture stung all the same. She was always like this—flirty, magnetic. You watched as she played with her hair, tilting her head slightly as she spoke, her eyes never leaving his. Henry seemed comfortable, leaning back in his chair, smiling that boyish smile that made your heart race.

You tried to focus on your textbook, but the words blurred. Your mind was too busy replaying every small interaction between them. You told yourself to leave—to get up and walk out—but your legs wouldn’t move. Instead, you stayed rooted in your chair, watching from the shadows as an hour ticked by, each small gesture between them feeling like a tiny dagger.

Bianca laughed again, her voice soft and sweet, and for a brief moment, Henry glanced out the window, his smile fading just slightly. You wondered if he was thinking of you—wondered if he remembered the promises he’d made before Bianca had left. But then his attention snapped back to her, and the thought dissolved.

The coffee in your cup had long gone cold, but you didn’t move. You just watched, heart heavy, until finally, they stood to leave. Bianca looped her arm through Henry’s, and they walked out together, the door’s bell jingling behind them.

For a moment, you just sat there in the dim light, the weight of what you’d witnessed pressing down on you. None of them knew you had been there. They didn’t see the way your fingers trembled, or how your heart had fractured, piece by piece, with every lingering glance and laugh shared between them.

In the quiet that followed, the world continued as if nothing had changed. But inside, something had shifted—jealousy, sadness, the ache of uncertainty. You let out a shaky breath, finally closing your book. For now, you’d leave the words unstudied and the questions unanswered.

3 —

The steady beep of the heart monitor echoed softly in the quiet of the Man Cave’s med bay. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a sterile glow on the room, making the sterile whites and grays feel even more lifeless. Henry sat beside the bed, his chair pulled close to where Phoebe lay, still and bruised, her breathing shallow but steady.

You stood a little farther back, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, your heart a jumble of emotions. The fight was over, but the weight of what had happened lingered thick in the air. You glanced at Henry, the way his eyes stayed locked on Phoebe, his expression tight with concern. There was something about the way he hovered, his presence protective and unyielding, that twisted in your chest.

You understood the direness of the situation—she had been hurt saving him. Still, a dull ache of jealousy had settled deep inside you, one that you tried to push away.

As Henry sat there, his mind seemed far away, lost in the chaos of what had happened earlier. The fight was still fresh in his memory, replaying in flashes.

It had started fast. They had stormed the warehouse, side by side, working in perfect sync. Phoebe had been fierce, taking down guards with her energy blasts while Henry worked on the bomb, his hands moving quickly over the wires. You had been there too, backing them up as best you could, but it was impossible not to notice how well they worked together. Every movement was fluid, every glance between them understanding without words.

And then, out of nowhere, the blast. Henry had barely registered it until Phoebe hit the ground, a sickening thud echoing through the warehouse as her body crumpled against the pillar.

He had rushed to her, the panic in his voice unmistakable. “Phoebe!” he’d shouted, his fingers trembling as they hovered over her, unsure of where to touch, how to help.

You had watched from a few feet away, heart in your throat. Jealousy flared then, sharp and stinging, watching how frantic he was. But then Phoebe had groaned, trying to sit up, wincing through the pain, and all of that jealousy faded, replaced by something else—fear. Fear for her. Fear for Henry.

Now, back in the med bay, that same fear hung in the room, even though the immediate danger had passed.

Henry hadn’t moved from her side since you had returned. His hand rested lightly on the edge of the bed, close but not quite touching, as if he was afraid he might hurt her if he did. His face was drawn, worry creasing his brow, and he kept glancing at the monitors as if checking for any sign of change.

The jealousy you had felt earlier was still there, but it was quieter now, dulled by the reality of the situation. You understood why Henry was acting the way he was. Phoebe had saved him—she’d taken a hit for him. Anyone would have done the same in his place. But that didn’t make it easier to watch.

She stirred slightly, a soft groan escaping her lips as her eyes fluttered open, still groggy from the sedatives. Henry straightened instantly, his face lighting up with relief.

“Phoebe?” His voice was soft, gentle, and he leaned forward slightly. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe now.”

Her eyes moved to him, a tired smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “Henry… you… okay?” she managed to whisper, her voice hoarse and weak.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, brushing off her concern. “Thanks to you.”

You shifted awkwardly, feeling like an outsider as you watched the exchange. The way they looked at each other, even in this moment, was undeniable. There was a bond there now, something forged in the heat of battle, and it stung in a way you hadn’t expected. You bit your lip, trying to shake it off, reminding yourself that this wasn’t about you.

But it didn’t stop the feeling from settling deep inside.

Phoebe closed her eyes again, clearly exhausted, and Henry exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders as he leaned back slightly, though he still stayed close. You could see the weight of what had happened written all over his face—the relief that she was okay, the fear that something worse could have happened, and maybe something else you couldn’t quite place.

After a long silence, Henry finally spoke without looking away from Phoebe. “I thought we were going to lose her,” he admitted quietly, almost to himself. The words hung in the air, heavy with emotion.

You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed quiet, watching him, watching her. In that moment, you realized that even though the jealousy still lingered, you couldn’t blame him for caring. Phoebe was a hero, just like him, and she had fought beside him, saved his life. It wasn’t about you or her—it was about the bond they’d formed in that moment of danger.

But still, it hurt.

Henry stayed with Phoebe through the night, his hand never far from hers, and you stayed too, even though a part of you wanted to leave, wanted to escape the painful feeling gnawing at your heart. You stayed because, despite it all, you knew they were both important to you.

And maybe that was enough.

4 —

The bright lights of the studio gleamed overhead, casting a spotlight on the sleek set where Henry and Captain Man sat for their interview. The whole space felt larger than life—cameras lined up in perfect formation, audience murmuring softly, and the shimmer of fame hanging thick in the air. You stood off to the side, arms crossed, trying to remain unnoticed. It was supposed to be an exciting event—a chance for Kid Danger and Captain Man to speak to the world, to show the public a little more of their heroic selves.

But the moment the actress, the stunning and ever-charming Ava Monroe, glided onto the stage in her shimmering gown, something in your chest tightened.

She was breathtaking, even more so in person, and the second she sat down across from Henry, you felt the shift in the air. Her smile was dazzling, her laugh infectious, and from the very first question, her attention was completely fixed on him.

“So, Kid Danger,” she purred, leaning in slightly as if she was sharing a secret just between them. “What’s it like being the most eligible superhero in Swellview?”

Henry smiled awkwardly, shifting in his seat, his cheeks flushing a little under the lights. “Uh, I don’t know about that,” he laughed, glancing briefly toward Captain Man for help, but Ray only grinned, clearly enjoying watching Henry squirm under her attention.

You felt the jealousy prickle at your skin, creeping in slowly at first. It wasn’t just that Ava was beautiful or charming—it was the way she made it so obvious that she was interested. Every glance, every brush of her hand when she leaned a little too close, every laugh that lasted just a beat too long. And Henry—Henry was trying to keep it professional, but you could see how flustered he was, how her attention had him off-balance.

“I’m sure the girls in Swellview are just dying to know—do you have someone special in your life?” Ava asked, her tone light but with just enough curiosity to make it clear she was fishing for an answer.

Henry’s smile faltered for a split second, and your heart clenched. His gaze flickered toward you for the briefest moment, but before he could answer, Ava was already speaking again, her fingers gently brushing his arm as she laughed.

“I mean, with looks and charm like yours, it’s hard to believe you’re still single,” she teased, her voice sugary sweet.

Your jaw tightened, fingers digging into your arms as you tried to keep your composure. The casual touches, the way she batted her eyelashes—it was all so painfully obvious. And the worst part? The way Henry didn’t pull away, didn’t shut it down. He was polite, yes, but the fact that he didn’t seem to mind was enough to make your stomach twist with something ugly.

You told yourself you shouldn’t care. This was just an interview, just part of the job. Ava Monroe was an actress—flirting was probably part of her charm, part of the persona she put on for the cameras. But that logic didn’t make it any easier to watch.

The interview continued, but you couldn’t focus on the questions or the banter. All you could see was the way Ava’s attention never left Henry, the way her smile brightened whenever he spoke, the way her eyes sparkled like he was the only person in the room. Every second of it felt like a punch to the gut.

When the cameras finally cut and the audience clapped, Ava stood, flashing one last smile in Henry’s direction as she thanked him for the interview. Henry stood too, still looking a little dazed by it all, but before you could even approach him, Ava was already there again, her hand on his arm as she whispered something in his ear. He smiled—nothing more than a polite, awkward smile—but it was enough to push you over the edge.

You couldn’t stay any longer. The weight of watching it all, of feeling so invisible in the shadow of her charm, was too much.

Without a word, you turned and slipped out of the studio, your footsteps quick and silent as you made your way through the exit. The cool night air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, but it didn’t ease the tightness in your chest. Your breath came out in shaky bursts, a mix of frustration and heartache swirling inside of you. You had no right to feel this possessive, you told yourself. Henry wasn’t yours to claim, not in that way.

But that didn’t stop the hurt from creeping in. Seeing Ava bat her eyes at him, the way she touched his arm, the way Henry had smiled—however innocent it might have been—felt like a crack in something delicate.

Your heart felt like it had been shattered by something so small, yet so impossibly large all at once.

And so, you walked, letting the distance grow between you and the place where Henry still stood, unaware of the turmoil swirling inside of you.

5 —

The quiet hum of the library filled the air, punctuated by the soft shuffling of pages and the occasional murmur of whispered conversations. It was the kind of peaceful environment you usually thrived in, the kind of place that helped you focus and push through hours of studying. But today, no matter how hard you tried, the words in your textbook blurred together, unread.

Across the room, Henry sat at a long wooden table, his head bent over a pile of notes, talking animatedly with his partner for the project—Natalie Reynolds. She was smart, everyone knew that. Always the first to answer questions in class, always at the top of the grade charts, and, to make things worse, she was easygoing and fun. The kind of person that people naturally gravitated toward.

Normally, it wouldn’t bother you. Henry had friends, just like you did. But watching the two of them together for the past week—spending long hours holed up in the library, their heads close as they poured over their research—had become increasingly hard to ignore. You told yourself it was nothing. Just a project. They were working. That’s all.

Still, every time you glanced over at them, the jealousy tightened around your chest.

You tried to focus on your own work, flipping through pages of your notes, but you couldn’t stop your ears from tuning into their conversation. Henry was laughing at something Natalie said. You couldn’t help but remember the conversation you had yesterday:

“She’s honestly so cool,” Henry said, his voice carrying across the room as he talked about her later at Junk N’ Stuff.“Like, she just knows so much about this stuff. I’d be lost without her.”

Your grip tightened on your the figures you were restocking, trying to pretend the words didn’t sting, but they did. You tried brushing it off, convincing yourself it didn’t matter, but it was hard to ignore how often Henry had been talking about Natalie lately. How much he’d been praising her, how their study sessions seemed to stretch longer every day.

It wasn’t like you didn’t understand—Natalie was smart. She was capable, and probably the perfect partner for the project. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You couldn’t help but feel left out, like some invisible line had been drawn between them that you weren’t a part of.

You caught glimpses of their smiles, the way they leaned in close, heads bent together, deep in conversation about whatever new discovery they’d just made in their research. They were so focused, so wrapped up in their own little world, and you… you were just on the outside, looking in.

The worst part wasn’t even how close they seemed to be getting—it was the way Henry kept bringing her up in conversation when you did see him. Talking about how smart she was, how much she knew, how helpful she’d been. And every time, you’d nod along, forcing a smile, trying to be supportive, when all you really wanted was for him to stop.

You hated feeling this way—jealous, insecure. It wasn’t like you. Henry wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just working on a project, just being nice, just appreciating someone else’s skills. But each compliment he gave her felt like a little piece of your connection to him was being chipped away.

Eventually, you closed your notebook and shoved it into your bag, unable to focus anymore. Maybe it was better to just leave, to stop torturing yourself by watching them from afar. But as you stood and slung your bag over your shoulder, you caught Henry’s eye. He smiled, waving you over.

“Hey!” he called, oblivious to the internal storm brewing inside you. ��Come check out what we found.”

You hesitated, your heart tugging between wanting to be close to him and wanting to avoid the sharp sting of jealousy. With a deep breath, you crossed the room and stood at the edge of their table, forcing a smile as Henry excitedly explained whatever new piece of information they had discovered.

But you barely heard a word. All you could focus on was how natural they seemed together, how easy it was for him to talk to her, laugh with her, and how little space seemed left for you in that moment.

+1 —

The bright lights of the lavish dining room glimmered overhead, casting an elegant glow on the grand table set for a private dinner with one of Swellview’s most notorious villains, Victor Voss. The atmosphere felt charged, filled with the soft clinking of silverware and the low hum of conversation, as you stood off to the side, adjusting your suit to fit the part. This was a high-stakes mission—a chance for you to flirt with Victor while Kid Danger and Captain Man snuck in to retrieve vital information.

You were wired with an earpiece, allowing you to hear Henry and Ray’s every word as they made their way through the shadows. Your heart raced, not just from the thrill of the mission but from the daunting task ahead. Victor entered the room, his presence commanding, dressed in a tailored suit that accentuated his imposing figure. You felt a flicker of nerves but quickly pushed it aside; you were here to do a job.

As you approached Victor, a confident smile on your face, his gaze shifted to you, instantly intrigued. “Well, well, who do we have here?” he purred, leaning back in his chair, eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Are you here to charm me, darling?”

“Maybe,” you replied, leaning slightly closer, letting your voice drop to a conspiratorial whisper. “Or perhaps I’m here to learn a few things from the most powerful man in the room.” The flirtation was effortless, and the words felt natural as they slipped from your lips.

In your earpiece, you could hear Henry’s voice, a hint of tension threading through his words. “Stay focused. Remember, we need that intel,” he urged, though you could detect a slight edge to his tone.

Watching from the shadows, Henry clenched his jaw, his heart racing in a way he hadn’t expected. Every word you exchanged with Victor felt like a dagger to his gut. It wasn’t just the situation—it was the way you held yourself, how effortlessly charming you were, drawing Victor’s full attention. He’d always known you were good at this, but watching it unfold in front of him made it feel too real.

Victor chuckled, a sound deep and rich, leaning in to engage you further. “You’re bold. I like that. Tell me, what do you find so fascinating about my work?” His eyes sparkled with interest, and Henry felt a surge of frustration. This is just a game for him, he thought, struggling to keep his own feelings in check. Just a villain playing with his prey. But that didn’t make it any easier to watch.

“Power can be intoxicating,” you responded, flashing him a coy smile. “But it can also be lonely. Don’t you crave something more?” You could feel the energy shifting as he leaned even closer, his interest piqued.

Henry swallowed hard, an unfamiliar tension coiling in his chest. What am I doing here? I should be the one sitting next to you, he thought, his mind racing. He couldn’t shake the image of you and Victor, their chemistry crackling in the air like static. “Just stay focused,” he reminded himself. “We’re here for a reason.” But the words felt hollow against the weight of his jealousy.

In your ear, you heard Henry let out a barely audible sigh, followed by Ray’s chuckle. “Looks like she’s really got her claws into him,” Ray teased, but Henry’s irritation was mounting, the feeling of helplessness gnawing at him. “Just keep him busy; we’re almost in,” Ray continued, but Henry felt anything but calm.

As the banter continued, the tension in Henry’s voice tightened. “Just don’t get too close,” he cautioned, his protectiveness surfacing despite his best efforts to remain professional. What if she actually wins him over? The thought was almost unbearable.

“Power is lonely, but I have my ways of making it more… enjoyable,” Victor replied, his tone suggestive as he gestured for you to sit beside him. Henry’s heart sank as he watched you move closer, the warmth of your presence drawing Victor in. He could practically feel the heat radiating from the two of you, and it twisted like a knife in his gut.

“Enjoyment can come in many forms,” you countered, and Henry’s resolve faltered. You’re playing a dangerous game, he thought, anxiety spiking in his chest. The way you leaned in, the way you laughed—it was everything he feared and wanted all at once.

“Just keep flirting,” Ray whispered in your ear, but Henry could sense his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “We need that information.” The urgency in Ray’s voice only heightened Henry’s frustration, making it difficult to concentrate on the mission.

You carried on, pouring on the charm, but every compliment exchanged with Victor felt like a knife twisting deeper into Henry’s resolve. “You know,” Victor said, his gaze flickering over to where Henry was concealed, “I’ve always admired someone who can keep up with me. How do you feel about a little… adventure?”

“Adventure can be thrilling,” you replied, casting a quick glance at Henry, who was clearly on edge. He was trying to mask his emotions, but his heart was racing. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, he thought. I should be the one enjoying this dance, not him.

A faint rustle in your earpiece reminded you of the urgency. “We’re in position. Just hold his attention a little longer,” Henry urged, his voice strained. He hated feeling this way, the jealousy clawing at him. He wanted to focus on the mission but felt trapped by his own feelings.

Finally, as Victor leaned in closer, his voice sultry and enticing, Henry’s heart sank further. He caught a glimpse of you, your expression a mix of confidence and determination, and it sent a rush of warmth through him. You’re incredible, he thought, a mix of pride and frustration swelling within him. But why does it have to be like this?

With the stakes rising, Henry knew he had to keep his emotions in check, but the weight of his unspoken feelings felt like an anchor pulling him down. The evening wore on, laughter and flirtation blending with the tension that wrapped around you both, each moment laden with unvoiced feelings as he navigated the delicate balance of duty and desire.

And so, he stayed, weaving through the intricacies of deception, letting the distance between you and the truth shift, all while his heart ached for a connection that felt just out of reach. The longer he watched, the more he realized that what he truly craved was not just the mission’s success but the chance to be the one at your side, sharing in the dance of danger and attraction that seemed to come so naturally to you.

The tension hung heavy in the air as Henry and Ray settled into the car, the hum of the engine a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions swirling inside Henry. They had successfully retrieved the intel from Victor’s office, but the victory felt hollow as he replayed the earlier scene in his mind—your laughter, the way Victor leaned closer, how easily you had captivated him.

Ray glanced sideways at Henry, who was staring out the window, lost in thought. “You okay?” he asked, breaking the silence, though he already knew the answer.

Henry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, just… a lot to process.” He felt like a ball of frayed nerves, each thought pulling him in a different direction. You did what you had to do, he reminded himself, but the sting of jealousy was still fresh. “I just didn’t expect it to feel like that,” he admitted quietly, his eyes still fixed on the passing streetlights.

Ray raised an eyebrow, sensing the weight of Henry’s frustration. “You mean seeing her flirt with Victor? That wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”

“Not like that,” Henry replied, his voice tense. “I know it was just a distraction, but watching her… it’s like she was in her element. Like she was enjoying it.” The words came out more bitter than he intended, and he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. , he chided himself. But the feeling of helplessness clawed at him.

Ray nodded, trying to understand. “It’s just a job, man. We all know how good she is at this.” He paused, gauging Henry’s reaction. “You can’t let it get to you. She’s got a role to play.”

“Yeah, but it’s hard to watch someone else take the spotlight,” Henry muttered, his fingers tapping restlessly against the seat. “I’ve seen her take on villains before, but this was different. He was leaning in, like he wanted something more.”

“I get it,” Ray said, his tone more serious now. “But you’re Kid Danger. She’s not going to forget that.” He watched Henry’s jaw tighten, the flicker of insecurity written all over his face. “You’ve got to trust her, man. She can handle herself.”

Trust her, Henry repeated silently to himself, wishing he could. The fact that you had been so effortlessly charming, so confident in the face of danger, made it even harder to swallow. “I know she can,” he said finally, forcing a nod, but the doubt lingered. What if she enjoyed it too much?

Ray shifted in his seat, sensing the thick atmosphere. “Look, once we pick her up, this whole thing will be behind us. You’ll have your chance to talk to her.”

“Yeah, if I can even find the words,” Henry replied, his voice low. The thought of confronting you about his feelings—about everything he had experienced during the mission—felt daunting. Would you understand? Would you see how hard it had been for him to watch?

As they approached the designated pickup location, Henry’s heart raced at the thought of seeing you again. What if she thought it was all just part of the act? He didn’t want to be just another distraction in your world, yet that was exactly how he felt.

“Just keep it cool,” Ray advised as he pulled up to the curb, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of you. “You can’t let your feelings cloud the mission. You know that.”

Henry nodded but found it hard to focus. His thoughts were tangled, emotions roiling beneath the surface. What if this changes everything? He couldn’t shake the feeling that the mission had shifted something between you two—something more than just friendship.

The wait felt interminable, each second dragging on as Henry replayed every moment from the dinner in his head. Finally, he spotted you stepping out of the building, your confident stride and easy smile radiating energy that made his heart flutter and ache at the same time.

When you slid into the backseat, the atmosphere instantly changed. You were all smiles, but Henry noticed the glimmer in your eyes that hinted at the tension you must have felt earlier. “You guys won’t believe what just happened!” you exclaimed, clearly still riding the high of the mission’s success.

Ray smiled at you, engaging in light banter, but Henry remained silent, his thoughts a storm of conflicting emotions. He felt like an outsider in the moment, watching you bask in the aftermath of your performance with Victor.

As Ray continued to drive, the tension in the car grew thicker, punctuated by the unspoken words that hung in the air. Every glance you exchanged felt electric, charged with feelings that neither of you had dared to voice.

Henry stole another glance at you, his mind racing. Each second stretching into an eternity as you chatted with Ray, laughter mingling with the tension that seemed to weave its way between you and Henry.

Finally, as the familiar streets of Swellview passed by. The unease in his chest pushed him forward, urging him to break the silence, but he didn’t . He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his feelings pressing down on him like a heavy fog.

The workout room in the Man Cave hummed with a rhythmic energy, the sound of punching bags swaying gently and sneakers squeaking against the polished floor blending into a symphony of exertion. You moved with focused determination, sweat glistening on your skin as you threw punches at the heavy bag, each strike a release of the pent-up stress that had built over midterm week. The air was thick with the scent of rubber mats and the faint echo of heavy weights clanging in the distance, a welcome distraction from the swirl of thoughts clouding your mind.

You were aware of the tension that had developed between you and Henry over the past few weeks. It felt like a weight pressing on your chest, growing heavier with each passing day. The memory of his close encounters with various girls—each one more charming than the last—gnawed at you. You tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that you were overreacting, but the truth was undeniable: the jealousy was like a constant, throbbing ache, and it didn’t help that you felt more distant from Henry than ever.

As you focused on your training, each punch against the bag was a desperate attempt to release the frustration that threatened to boil over. The rhythm of your movements was meditative, yet your mind was anything but calm. Memories of Henry laughing with those girls played on a loop, a haunting reminder of the connection you wished you had with him. You could still hear the laughter echoing in your ears—the easy banter, the way his eyes lit up when he was around them. It stung more than you cared to admit.

The door creaked open, breaking your concentration, and you glanced over to see Henry emerging from the locker room, his body still glistening from his earlier workout. The sight of him took your breath away; the muscles in his arms flexed with every movement, and the way his hair fell across his forehead made your heart race. Yet, as soon as he stepped into the room, the atmosphere shifted, tension crackling like electricity in the air. You could feel it—the unspoken words, the unresolved feelings.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice low but confident, breaking through the silence that had enveloped you both. “Wanna spar?”

Your heart raced, caught between desire and reluctance. You shook your head, trying to play it cool. “No thanks, I’m good,” you replied, your voice steady, but the frustration you felt seeped through the cracks. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much his presence affected you, especially after everything that had happened recently.

“Oh, come on,” he urged, stepping closer, a playful grin flickering across his lips, a grin that made your stomach flutter and clench at the same time. “I promise I won’t go easy on you.”

The mention of that last part made your heart drop, a fresh wave of jealousy crashing over you like a cold wave. “You mean you won’t go easy on me like you didn’t go easy on those other girls?” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended. The bitterness of jealousy was a familiar taste, one you hated but couldn’t escape.

Henry’s expression faltered for just a moment, but he quickly masked it with determination, his jaw tightening. “That’s not fair. This isn’t about them.”

“Isn’t it?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, your pulse quickening as you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “You’ve been with so many girls lately, it’s weird.”

He clenched his jaw, a flash of frustration igniting within him. “Weird?” he echoed, his voice rising a notch. “You think i’m the only one that’s ‘weird’?”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “What do you mean?”

“Oh don’t be dense, it’s not like you were just flirting with some random guy,” he snapped, his emotions boiling over. “You were flirting with a villain! Victor Voss! You were practically hanging on his every word!”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden intensity in his voice. “Henry, it was part of the mission! I had to distract him to get the intel. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know that!” he shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “But it doesn’t mean I have to like it! Watching you smile at him, the way he leaned in closer… you know you liked it.” he said, his tone more challenging, almost daring you to confront the truth. The intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through you, a mixture of annoyance and longing that twisted your insides.

“Come on. Let’s get this out of our systems.”

After a moment’s hesitation, you exhaled a sharp breath, finally giving in to the urge that had been bubbling beneath the surface. “Fine. But don’t cry when I wipe the floor with you.”

As you squared off, the air thickened with anticipation. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his presence pulling you in like a magnet. With the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you began with playful jabs, each strike punctuated by a shared history of friendship that made this moment feel electric.

Yet, the tension simmering beneath the surface was impossible to ignore. Every punch he threw felt like a reminder of the distance that had grown between you, a barrier that had been built on misunderstandings and unresolved feelings. With each hit, you found yourself more frustrated—not just at him, but at the entire situation. You wanted to fight, to push against that barrier, but part of you was terrified of what would happen if you did.

“You think you’re so great, huh?” you teased, sidestepping a punch he aimed at you. “But you’re still avoiding the truth.”

“I’m not avoiding anything!” he replied, landing a solid hit to your shoulder, a small grin tugging at his lips as he feigned innocence.

“Really? Because it seems like you’re avoiding me since those girls came along,” you shot back, landing a kick against his side. The words felt charged, a mix of frustration and longing spilling over as you fought.

Henry’s expression darkened, and the playful tone slipped away. “You think this is about them?” he asked, his voice low and intense. “This is about you pushing me away!”

The air crackled with unfiltered emotions, and as you continued to spar, the fight morphed into a release of all the pent-up tension. You both knew it was more than just a physical match; it was a battleground for your feelings, an attempt to confront the truths that had been lingering in the space between you.

“I don’t want to feel jealous, Henry!” you yelled, frustration boiling over. “But how am I supposed to ignore it when you’re always with them?”

“Then why are you acting like you don’t care?” he countered, his breath coming in quick bursts. “I’m tired of pretending we’re not something more than friends!”

With each exchange, the intensity escalated. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, pushing you to the brink as you both vented your frustrations. As he caught your punch, his grip was firm yet gentle, and your heart raced as you locked eyes, the world around you fading into the background.

“Maybe we should stop fighting,” you murmured, your breath mingling with his, the space between you charged with electricity.

“Maybe we should,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, the intensity in his gaze igniting something deep within you.

Before you could think, he pulled you closer, the intensity of your earlier sparring morphing into something more profound. Your lips crashed together, the kiss igniting a fire that had been simmering between you all along. It was rough and passionate, each moment a release of the frustration, jealousy, and longing that had been pent up for far too long.

You felt every ounce of pent-up emotion flood through you as you melted into him, bodies moving together with an urgency that spoke louder than any words exchanged in the heat of battle. The kiss deepened, hands roaming freely, exploring the familiar territory you both had skirted around for so long.

His grip on the back of your head tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you in closer. His lips crash down onto yours, hard and rough.

“Mine.” He growls against your mouth, his tongue pushing its way past your lips to explore the inside of your wet cavern, tongue battling against your own.

Henry pulled you closer, his hands gripping your waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind you of the heat radiating from his body. Every kiss was a confession, every breath an admission of the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. You lost yourself in the moment, forgetting everything else—the jealousy, the misunderstandings, the insecurities.

As the kiss broke, you both pulled away, gasping for breath, the reality of the situation crashing back in. The silence between you was thick with the weight of what had just transpired, a new understanding settling into the space that had once been filled with tension and uncertainty.

“What just happened?” you whispered, a mix of exhilaration and disbelief coursing through you.

Henry searched your eyes, vulnerability flickering across his features. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice husky. “But I know I want to figure it out—with you.”

Fin.

NAVI

[6gumi]

which dress looks good on me?

synopsis ﹒your husband aventurine helps you pick out dresses ! ( gone wrong ! )

pairings﹒aventurine x f!reader

cw﹒nsfw MDNI. unedited. 、 established relationship 、mirror sex 、semi-public sex 、reader physically smaller 、mild titplay 、 squirting 、aventurine referred to as “kakavasha” once or so 、a bit of choking 、nicknames used ( baby, sweetheart, more ! ) 、more tba !

note﹒hi hii ! ! decided to change things up w my formatting . . . since the last one wasn’t that good so i hope this new format it looks fine :3 this is a lil short but it’s oki ! ! | reblogs are highly appreciated ! if you want to talk to me, send a rq or thirst . . . feel free to send me an ask ! — millie ♡

it was another day of spending time with your husband, of course . . . he spoiled you a shit ton today, even though you scolded him not to ! but of course, he wouldn’t listen. hmph, typical. you were both in one of the big changing rooms in your favourite place to shop at, examining the dress that hugged your body, the coldness of the room making you shiver. “hmm . . .” you hummed, raising a brow as you took a step closer to the mirror, “ . . aven, i’m not sure about this dress.” you murmured, glancing at your beloved husband staring at you in pure awe, ugh . . he was like a puppy. it was cute.

aventurine whistled, his rough fingertips tracing the outline of your ass, smirking when he felt you jump. “i like it, i guess you don’t then,” he chuckled with a shrug, taking a step closer. “maybe try another one on and see how it looks, maybe something a bit looser, if you prefer. but to me, i like this one.”

“babe, you said that with the five other dresses i tried on earlier.”

“ . . . so?”

“sooo which means that . . . you need to be more with me, you can’t just say “yes it looks good” every single time, y’know . . . i need your honest opinion.” you spoke, crossing your arms.

“well, you did look good in all those dresses you tried on earlier, even this one you still look as beautiful as ever.” aventurine’s pretty eyes roamed over your body with admiration. "your body is perfect just the way it is." aventurine reached out, gently cupping one of your round breasts through the thin material of your dress. "and if anything, you're just getting even more beautiful with each passing day." he leaned in close, nuzzling your neck as he whispered into your ear, " . . mm . . but if you want to look extra hot, maybe we should find something that shows off your cute breasts over here. maybe . . one that allows them to spill right out—“

“kakavasha.”

“what? i was only telling the truth, sweetheart. can’t handle it?”

the dress surely was stunning, accentuating every part of you. but there was something missing . . . like something else needed to be added. hm . . you weren’t sure what. could it be the color? maybe it wasn’t your color? you just weren’t sure. a hand ran through your hair again, slowly trailing down towards the fat of your ass . . . feeling a small yet sharp slap that stung your skin. “you really can’t decide? just get all of them, love. you know i can afford them. unless . . you want me to tell you how i feel about this dress in specific . . both on and off. would that be to your liking?” that smug lil’ smirk on his face . . . you knew exactly what he meant by that. it was risky, but hey . . . you didn’t mind that. you nodded, raising a brow with a smile.

aventurine’s eyes darted over your figure, lingering on the swell of your breasts beneath the dress you wore, he could feel his cock stirring in his pants, straining against the fabric of his boxers. aventurine silently cursed his weakness, his thoughts betraying him at the most inopportune time. “mmh . . . let’s start here.” your husband’s fingers tickled your chin, facing you to the mirror infront of you, as if he wanted you to watch every single thing he does. gripping your hips, he pressed your body firmly against the cold mirror . . his fingers moved deftly, reaching down to flip your dress upwards, sliding his eager digits within your heat . . stroking your wet slit.

“aven . . .” a breathy whimper slipped between your lips as aventurine pressed his thumb against your clit, his other fingers dipping into your folds. He could feel her body respond to his touch, your hips bucking slightly as you tried stifling moans.

“mm . . this dress presents you so well, angel. i like the fabric used . . i also like how these present these tits of yours. ‘s fucking pretty. you can’t expect me to not look at them, can you, baby?” he teased, his fingers brushing over your nipples gently. “if you ever wore this at an important gathering . . fuck. i’d get hard so quick,” his voice . . . goodness his voice. he was so close to you, his body pressed firmly against yours, rubbing his cock against your backside. “speaking of that . . look how hard you made me, baby. just ‘cuz i saw you in this pretty dress.”

the gambler trapped you close against the mirror, cock twitching at the sight of your breasts pressing against the cold surface. his eyes darkened, desire burning in his depths as he looked at the reflection of his wife. your breathing hitched, eyes half-closed, and lips parted in need. "fuck, baby . . . you're driving me insane," aventurine growled, his voice desperate and thick with lust. he adjusted the dress, pulling it down just enough to reveal more of your breasts . . . mouth watering at the sight, his cock throbbing painfully in response. “i’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy . . kay? i’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy.” aventurine’s skilled hands wrapped themselves around your throat, applying pressure with a squeeze. “. . . ‘gonna fuck you hard against this mirror until we get kicked out, kay?”

“ . . okay . . “

“good girl.” his hand squeezed around your neck once more as his cock slid smoothly into your wet heat. his breath hitched as he felt your warmth enveloping him, your wet heat surrounding his dick. your moans and his groans bounced off the walls of the fitting room, not caring if anyone was waiting outside to try on their own clothes . . that’s their problem! “oh baby . . . i will never stop fucking this cunt of yours.” aventurine groaned deeply, losing all control within his nerves as they were all conveyed by pure lust for you. the sounds of the mall faded away, replaced by the slap of your bodies connecting, the soft gasps and whimpers escaping both of you and him.

"this fuckin’ dress . . . fuck i’m gonna ruin it. ruin you, baby.” the gambler breathed raggedly, rough hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pounded into you with no avail or intention of stopping, his eyes locked on the reflection, watching himself taking his pretty wife in the sexiest dress he’d ever seen. “watch me while i fuck you, my little wife. do you see my cock sliding in and out of you? ‘s good . . isn’t it?”

"god, yes!" you cried out, clenching your fists against the mirror, your husband’s eyes locked on the image of your plump tits bouncing with each thrust with your face flushed with passion. “more, aven . . more more more !” goodness . . . you were almost certain that people from the outside heard you both fuckin’ and getting it down in there. in full honesty . . . aventurine didn't care who heard, he didn't care about the consequences. all he cared about was satisfying his desperate hunger for you, feeling your body clench around him. oh . . the way your heat enveloped his member like a blanket drove him crazy. it took every ounce of control left in his body to not cum instantly . . wanting to savour the moment more.

“a—aven i’m gonna cum . . .”

“yeah? cum, angel. cum on my cock . . maybe cum on the mirror too . . give the workers a hard time cleaning our intimacy.” he chuckled, landing a swift smack to your ass. fuck, the sensation was too much for you. your orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave, overwhelming you completely. with a gasp, you squirted all over the mirror, milking your husbands cock as you did so . . . your vision swam with pleasure, mind hazy with orgasmic bliss. “well then . .” aventurine spoke again, grunting when he emptied himself into you. “did that prove anything? prove how much i liked this dress . . ?”

“sh—shit . . mm . . yes, yes it did . .”

“good. then let’s get this one then, baby. can’t wait to completely ruin you again in this dress when we get home.”

© 6GUMI. please do not modify 、translate 、share my works on other platforms 、or consider them as yours.

[ginsengkitten]

we actually don’t talk about this enough