#he's a little vain i fear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hyunnie04 · 10 months

Text

cat and mouse

summary: your co-worker has been on your case ever since you've started your time at the company. a strange turn of events and circumstance changes all that.

pairing: coworker! lee know x reader

trope: enemies to lovers <3, office au

genre: slight angst, smut, and fluff

warnings: fem-bodied reader, oral, creampie, overstim, unprotected sex, bulge kink, spitting, etc. 18+ mdni

word count: 9.8k

a/n: a little practice piece for you guys, i hope i did well;; so sorry this took me so long to write :( i also hope it's cohesive enough, i keep writing this fic on and off sleep deprived lol

tick…

tock…

tick…

to-

“the clock isn’t going to speed up just because you keep staring at it.” the cubicle beside you chirps in, momentarily shaking you out of your thoughts. by now, you’ve trained to pay him no mind as you keep your focus on the clock that reads 4:56 pm, almost taunting you in a way.

a few more minutes and you’ll be home free for the weekend. maybe you can finally relax and get away from your dreaded paperwork. perhaps look through your shopping apps since you had nothing else better to do for the weekend, or better yet- you could run a well deserved bath with that bath bomb you always wanted to use but never got a chance to. all the possibilities sounded heavenly although all that would have to actually wait until you get home.

one other thing that you had been anticipating all day was having that dinner after work with jeongin- your close friend and coworker from a different department. he had been begging you for ages to finally try that one soba place that opened up nearby with him. you being a good friend, agreed.

“you might actually melt the clock if you keep doing that y’know.” your cubicle neighbor- lee minho smirks, now standing and leaning over your workspace.

"what do you want?" pointedly asking him.

"oh, nothing. nothing."

“you just don’t ever shut up, do you?” you deadpan and tilt your chin up to stare at him, minho just offers a sly smirk in return. he always liked to bother and butt into your business for some odd reason.

minho shrugs, “it’s fun teasing you. you do that thing where you scrunch your nose when you get riled up.” a vain visibly pops up from your forehead, but turn to your computer, hoping to drown him out with your typing.

you knew better than to give him a reaction. if you had a penny for how many times that particular vein popped from your forehead because of minho, you’d probably be a millionaire by now.

“oh, one more thing-” the brown haired man saunters back to his desk, and comes back to yours with a huge stack of papers. he unceremoniously plops it down, the annoying feline-like grin on his face.

“what’s…this?” raising an eyebrow at him, you hope it's not what you think he's planning. you have plans. he crosses his arms and pushes his framed glasses back.

“paperwork, of course.” you wanted to strangle him. “yes, i’m well aware that this is paperwork. why is it now on my desk?”

before you could protest any further, “they want this finished by next week.” he leans to practically whisper in your ear. minho grins mischievously after he sees your pink flustered face take a step back.

the humongous stack was already on his desk, so your boss most likely assigned it to him in the first place. you furrow your eyebrows and turn to him, worst fear coming true.

"ohh no. not in a million years." you get up from your seat, avoiding the offending pile. he starts going back to his desk, neatly placing his things in it's organizers.

“why can’t you finish it? you- what are you doing?” but minho was already grabbing his bag and blazer and looking at his wrist watch.

“would you look at the time- thanks for covering for me!” aaaand he's gone.

plopping down on your chair, you bury your face in your hands, stopping yourself from pulling out hair. frustration creases on your forehead. well, you could kiss that dinner with jeongin goodbye. now you definitely want to strangle him.

lee minho. if you were to find a personification of the word annoying, the brunette would certainly be it. that man has done nothing but annoy the hell out of you ever since you started your time in the company. other people in your department often regarded him as one of the most reliable and polite employees here.

you would inwardly scoff at the frequent mention of minho and his apparent “reliable-ness and politeness” since all he was, was just the opposite. to you at least. it was hard to believe at first.

but then you actually saw the way he carried himself with effortlessness and composure, handled business affairs, and how he mingled so seamlessly with fellow colleagues. it was nothing short of professional.

so you had a theory that he was only like that towards you. a complete dick only to you. you although weren’t quite sure why.

the girls in your department would often talk about him as well, mostly for his appearance. you really weren’t one for gossiping but you would listen in sometimes, curious about what they see in him. it was hard not to when they would gush about their workplace crushes and love lives so openly, a tinge of envy seeps through your bones every time it would be mentioned. you have got to get laid one day.

“he’s totally my type, you think i should ask him out?” your other cubicle neighbor says quite loudly during her break. her friend beside her shakes their head, “no, no you can’t.”

“why not? isn't he hot and available?” she asks absentmindedly. you start to zone out for a minute, only catching bits and pieces of their conversation. but you contemplate about what she said for a second, you would be lying if you said that lee minho was unattractive.

far from that actually. distinctly remembering catching a few glimpses of him from your first day, intrigued and interest piqued. his sharp nose and cheek bones, features were like sculpted by michaelangelo himself, his toned and lean figure accentuated by the perfectly well fit suit that he always seem to wear.

you definitely found him attractive at first.

that was until he started annoying you, so all of that was quickly out the window.

but you would probably end yourself before admitting that to anyone. you let out a disgruntled sigh, appearance wouldn’t really matter if he wasn’t such a knob to begin with.

as you approached your dimly lit street, all you could think about was that feline faced jerk. what was he thinking, dumping all that work on you last minute? you felt really bad about cancelling on jeongin, texting him earlier about the sudden change of schedule. the dark haired man you've come to know just replies with a little;

'we'll just try again next week lol'

you breathe out a relieved sigh, thankful that he wasn't mad. kicking the pebbles on the side of the road, you imagined that the little rocks were minho's face. you could not wait until you get home.

“stupid paperwork, stupid minho, stupid…”

your muttering fades and you suddenly stop in your tracks as your elderly neighbor waves you over from her front door, grandma lee or just grandma- as she insists you call her instead.

you bowed and greeted her, “hi grandma, did you need something?” you were quite close with the sweet old lady, her gray hair swaying lightly in the wind.

the elder would often check up on you after hearing that you traveled all the way from your hometown to the city, almost taking you in as her own. you were grateful for the company since homesickness would often creep up. she would also often bring you comically large jars of kimchi which you appreciated greatly.

she smiles as she gestures to the multiple bags she was holding, "i just need a little help getting these inside the house, dear." you take the heavy bags from her hands. what were in these, rocks? grandma claps her hands together in remembrance.

“have you had dinner yet? i made extra.”

grandma sets a bowl in front of you, the sight of seaweed soup instantly brings you comfort. your stomach grumbles as you dig in. she watches you intently as you practically inhale the soup, starved from the long and terrible day you had.

you sent her a polite questioning look. “i want to ask you for a favor.” she finally starts, flicking through the channels of her tv. the weather was on, the forecaster droning on about rain happening this week in the same monotone voice for the past 10 minutes. you look at her and nod immediately, she had done so much for you, doing a few favors aren't going to hurt.

“do you have a car, dear?”

blowing on the steaming hot seaweed soup, you nod again at her question, wondering where this conversation is heading.

“i need someone to drive me to my son’s house tomorrow, i'm staying over there for the weekend and my bags are a little heavy. would that be alright with you, dear?” you’ve heard about her family from her stories when she would have you over like now, little bits and pieces. you smile and agree.

a cheshire grin graces your features after a moment. “what’s in it for me?” it was a joke of course, grandma knew it too. having spent a large amount of time with her, your humor must’ve rubbed off at some point.

you didn’t expect her to actually answer but she replies, “actually, i’d like you to meet my grandson as well. i think you two would get along. he's the same age as you too.”

the aforementioned grandson was someone you’ve seen in a bunch of grandma lee’s hallway pictures. you remember that he was an only child, often the only kid and the lone subject in the photos. your favorite was the kid in red with a toothy grin. he must’ve been 5 when it was taken.

"it was a joke, grandma. i'm sure your grandson wouldn't want a stranger suddenly coming to meet him." she shakes her head,

"nonsense. that boy doesn't know what he wants." you laugh at her persistence. getting another bowl of rice, you ponder her offer for a second. maybe this could finally cure your dull and dry love life, it couldn't hurt to try. if worse comes to worst, you could just pretend it never happened.

“but of course, i’ll drive you there. i have nothing to do anyways.” you say with a mouthful of rice. grandma pats you on the back and continues to flick through the channels once more.

“thank you dear.”

the sunset blears through your windshield, sun rays momentarily blinding you. it was clear as day. the ride to her family’s house was relatively quiet, the elderly lady in your passenger seat preferred to sleep the whole ride through after handing you the address, giving you a moment to leave you in your thoughts.

pulling up to the neighborhood, you let out a low whistle. the house was at the end of the street, steep and uphill. it was surely going to be a struggle to get the car way up there.

you get to the curb, reverse and try to park your car as best as you can. the house was really pretty, you thought. it looked pretty lived in too, but in a cozy way. vines was sprawled all over the brick exterior and flowers had bloomed all over the property.

you wake up grandma and start to haul her luggage up and out the car.

"you go up, grandma. i'll catch up."

after struggling to get the multiple bags of luggage up hill, you finally waddle to the front door. the door was left slightly ajar, probably for your convenience. you took a quick peek around, hoping for someone to let you in.

calling out before entering, you were met with silence. you figured they were too busy catching up so you eventually let yourself in.

the furniture adorning the hallway and rooms were made out of wood, the handiwork and craftsmanship was evident, intricate carvings on each and every one of them. it must’ve been made by grandma lee’s son as you’ve heard from her many stories.

a ginger cat with white stripes greets you as you enter the front door, it strides over to you in intrigue. leaning down and dropping grandma's bags gently, you let the feline sniff your hand before allowing itself to be pet. soon enough it starts rubbing its body on your legs and purring loudly. adorable cat, you thought.

silence fills the house, aside from the soft chatter coming from the other side of the wall. the cat leaves it's spot, not wanting to be pet anymore. you sit up and observe the house again, noticing a myriad of family photos adorning the walls and some of the tables.

coming closer to one of the pictures, again, you encounter the same young boy in red but this time he was wearing a cap sideways and a puffer jacket that seemed to be way too big for him.

"hello! you must be y/n!" a feminine voice suddenly calls out from the living room. you straighten your back from the mention of your name, hoping she didn't catch you closely staring at their personal and probably private photos. grandma lee comes out from the living room as well and walks towards you with a younger and kind looking woman in tow. she had another cat in her arms, this time it's coat was gray with dark streaks.

you smile and greet her politely, exchanging pleasantries. you quietly pick up the neglected bags and place them near the guest room. they continue their conversation with each other from before, you now awkwardly standing in the middle. looking at your wrist watch, you figured you should probably head on home.

"i suppose i'll get going now, it was really nice meeting you." mrs. lee looked startled at your sudden announcement.

"why don't you stay for a while? it must've been a long drive here, you're probably hungry." these two women weren't related by blood but they practically were, having the same idea when it came to hospitality.

"well, i don't want to overstay my welcome. i'm just here to give grandma a ride." smoothening out your non-existent clothes wrinkles in apprehension.

she waves her hand in dismissal, "but you must stay, you're already here anyways." she grins and pats your back. mrs. lee didn't seem to budge at your refusal.

you relented, finally accepting her offer. "my son is in the kitchen whipping something up. he's a great cook." you totally forgot about her son being actually here. the joke offer from yesterday completely forgotten and flew out of your mind. slight embarrassment runs through you, realizing that the offer was somewhat serious. you would surely need to mentally prep yourself for more socialization than you've anticipated.

but you instantly believe her claim that her son was a great cook, the amazing and aromatic smell of what seems to be steak and multiple herbs and spices from the kitchen wafts through out the entire house.

"okay- while we're waiting," mrs. lee gestures for you to take a seat, "you should go sit on the couch, y/n. i've been dying to meet you."

she hands you a mug of hot tea and sits down next to you. "mom here talks about you all the time, thank you for keeping her company."

"it's no problem at all, i like her company too." and with that, the three of you fall into a smooth and comfortable rhythm of conversation. the younger of the two women across from you continues to poke and prod into life, not that you minded. she would ask you about your life, where were you from, where you went to school, and where you went to work and among other things.

she offers you stories of her son gleefully in return, laughing about a particularly embarrassing story when he was younger. you learned that he was quite fond and talented in dancing, loves cats, and loves to cook. oddly enough mrs. lee never mentioned his name at all, you didn't want to pry. now that you've thought about it, grandma hadn't mentioned his name at all either. all you had for a lead was initials you remember seeing etched on one of grandma's photos. you figured you'd meet this person soon enough anyways.

after a while, grandma lee retreats to the guest room they've set up, assuming that she'd want to fix her belongings. mrs. lee starts to drag you around the house, urging you to help her set the plates up and talk more while doing so. midway through placing the chopsticks on the table, the sound of pots and pans clanging from the other room shakes you out of your thoughts.

"mom?" a voice calls out from their kitchen. it must be her son. you slightly raise your eyebrows, he sounds oddly familiar but you can't place your finger who he might've sounded like. you quickly brush it off.

"yes?"

"have you seen the slow cooker?" the man finally reveals himself and pokes his head through the entryway to the kitchen.

you lift your head and lock eyes with the said person. shock freezes your movements, dropping the utensils that you were holding. blinking owlishly in surprise, you weren't sure if what you were seeing was real.

you feel the wind knock out of your lungs. this was not happening. the brown eyes, brown hair, and cat like face from work that you've come to dislike stared back. you must be hallucinating.

standing across from you was lee minho, the lee minho. grandma lee’s grandson. the same one that's been tormenting you all year round. you just couldn't believe it, wondering what kind of luck you had to end up here.

you think back to when you looking (--more like snooping) at grandma lee's framed hallway photos, the kid- that was him all along? you're really bad at recognizing faces, you thought to yourself. well, she certainly made him seem like a complete angel from the stories.

"oh! this is y/n. your grandmother invited her to eat dinner with us." mrs. lee pulls your figure closer into a side hug and beams at her son.

he furrows his eyebrows at you, glancing back and forth at you and his mother. he must be as confused and shocked as you are. "hi." minho says, nodding at your direction. you purse your lips and shuffle uncomfortably in place.

minho again asks where the slow cooker was since the first time he asked was ignored. he was wearing a loose fitting shirt, his broad shoulders looking more prominent. you realize you've never seen him outside of his work attire before. he looked comfortable, domestic even.

his mom says to check the cupboards, paying him no mind and continuing to set the table up. minho nods slowly, eyes not leaving yours and heads back to the kitchen. a little shell shocked about your little encounter, you clear your throat and go back to the task at hand. you'd just have to deal with this for the evening and then you could go home.

when the table was done, mrs. lee turns to you, "y/n? would you mind helping minho over there with bringing the side dishes to the table?" you freeze at the realization that you would have to interact with him alone.

"sure." you say meekly. she thanks you and goes to the guest room to presumably get the older lady for dinner. psyching your self up before entering the kitchen, his broad back facing you. he senses your presence and chuckles.

you were sure he was going to make this whole night unbearable.

"well, this is a nice surprise."

"what are you doing here?" stupid question from you seeing as this was his own house. mentally face palming your head, he hums smugly and starts dividing the side dishes onto smaller plates. you notice his very toned arms flexing as he puts the tubs away.

"i should be asking you that. i didn't expect you to be here." he says nonchalantly, but you could feel a sly smile forming on his face as he speaks.

"neither did i." you grumble and lightly shove him aside, wanting to get the side dishes out to the table already. you ignore the way he looks so domestic right now.

you stare at him from directly across the table, hoping he would keep his mouth shut. he smirks while he eats, purposefully riling you up and glancing at you with a knowing grin.

do not lose your cool, y/n.

silence rings out the dining room aside from the quiet clattering of utensils on plates.

"y/n?"

"i'm sorry?" you snap out of your little less than friendly staring contest with him.

"do... you know each other?" his mother finally breaks the silence and here eyes flickers back and forth between both of you.

"yes-"

"no-"

a full on headache is surely forming now, it's going to be hard to hide your annoyance. quick, think of a lie.

"we're coworkers. same company." you grimace as he answers for the both of you. no use in hiding it now. "oh! that's wonderful." the older lady to your right clasps her hands in delight.

"you didn't tell me you worked together." grandma turns to you grinning brightly. you avoid eye contact with her, nodding and forcing out a smile. you wanted nothing more than want the ground to swallow you up right then and there.

"you two must be close." his mother says, sipping at her drink. you were about to open your mouth to say that you really aren't actually, but minho beats you to the punch.

"we kind of are." minho rests his elbows on the table and turns to you. he's enjoying this. the bastard was enjoying this. resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back to finish your meal.

hatred for the man aside, he really was a great cook as mentioned countless of times. you actually find yourself enjoying the meal he had prepared.

"tell me what you two get up to at work, i want to hear all of it."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, being honest wouldn't be the best idea. you didn't want these two lovely women to know how much of an unpleasant man their son and grandson is. and it was his house after all, the best decision might be to at least be civil with him.

so you play along with his facade, not wanting to disappoint them even if it was probably going to bite you in the ass later.

minho starts cutting the meat up into bite sized pieces while the conversation between the two ladies continue. he places it on your plate without saying anything. this takes you by surprise, looking at his face for an answer.

the two audience members among the dining table seems to have noticed your little exchange. a wrinkly hand touches over yours catches your attention.

"oh, so are you two..." she trails off, implication heavy on her tone.

"no- no, grandma. i told you i wasn't seeing anyone." you shoot a discrete glare towards minho.

"ah, i see..."

you shrink down your seat for the remainder of the hour, embarrassment flooding your being. why did he have to do that? you were already practically fighting for your life not to get too involved with all this, and he pulls that?

after that very eventful dinner, it was already nearing 8 pm. you figured that you should probably get out of their hair, not wanting to disturb them than you already had. that bubble bath and movie marathon you had planned in your head sounded amazing right about now. maybe that would help you forget about this crazy night.

"grandma," she turns in response, "i think i better get going." you smile at her, digging through your pockets for the car keys. a different cat from the other two that you've met takes long strides, stopping by your feet. you greet it by petting it's head gently. you wondered how many cats they have.

"now? look at the weather dear," you look briefly at the window nearest you, surely enough it was heavily pouring. you deflate at the sight.

"i don't think it's a great idea to drive out in a storm." she looks at you in concern. crap. the conversation at dinner must've carried you away, not even noticing the angry rumble of thunder that came from the sky. she was right, you don't think you could drive out there immediately.

the last time you drove into hard pelting rain, you couldn’t see through the windshield and almost crashed your car in the process. you could still remember how your car swerved and screeched when you couldn't control the way the tires' direction.

reluctantly dropping your hands to your side in defeat, "i guess i can wait it out for a bit." you finally say.

"yes, please do stay. we made extra dessert!" mrs. lee chuckles, seemingly enjoying your presence. glancing at minho, he was leaning on the side of the couch watching the exchange between you three, uncharacteristically silent and expression unreadable.

you reckon he wasn't all that thrilled about the whole thing either.

"the storm isn't letting up." minho sighs next to you, observing the dark and heavy rain pelting the window. it continues to pour down, filing in the silence.

"great." you mumble lowly, crossing your arms. a loud cackle of thunder makes you jump from your spot. he just laughs in response. you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, anxiety quietly eating at you. damn weather man. you should've paid more attention to the forecast.

the smart watch on your wrist flashes with a notification. it was 11 pm now. "you should stay until tomorrow, dear."

you feel a comforting hand on your back, it was mrs. lee. it was only her staying with you two right now since grandma had already retired back to her room.

"tomorrow? oh, i- uh... i don't want to intrude." you stutter and look down, unsure how to accept her offer. but as much as you wanted to turn her down, you knew deep down you don't really have a choice in the matter.

another strike of thunder confirms your pitiful situation.

"i know what you're thinking, you can take minho's room." her words take you aback, that really wasn't what you were thinking. but she wasn't serious, was she?

at the mention of his name and apparent lending of his own bed, he whips his head towards his mother. he points to himself silently and gawks in disbelief.

you try to stifle a laugh at his ridiculous face. it wasn't often that you see minho all flustered.

realizing that mrs. lee might actually kick minho out of his room if you don't say anything, you decide to spare him. "that's okay, i'll take the couch."

"are you sure? the couch isn't the most comfortable..."

you reassure her that the couch is fine and not to worry. mrs. lee takes this as a confirmation that you'll stay for the night. she beams and grabs her son's shoulder,

"minho, do you have clothes that you can lend to y/n?" she catches you about to protest at the unnecessary offer, "don't worry about that, you're going to end up uncomfortable if you sleep in your clothes right now."

she leaves not long after with a quick good night to you both, also not leaving any room for any counter arguments. minho nods after registering what she said, hesitantly gesturing you to follow him towards the room at the end of the corridor.

he was quiet these past few hours, you observed. the annoying minho that you have gotten used to was no where to be found. putting yourself in his shoes, you understood. having a person that you dislike come into your home and spend the night would irk you as well.

the unexpected warm lighting and a subtle citrus scent with notes of jasmine and sandalwood welcomed you upon entering. it instantly brings comfort. not really expecting anything coming into his room, it was truly a pleasant surprise.

you stand awkwardly in the middle of his room, not wanting to touch or disrupt any of his space or belongings. he heads straight to his closet near his bed.

"it's alright, uh..."

minho ignores your attempt to refuse and starts digging deep for clothes that he could lend.

okay, nevermind.

you quietly glance at the homey decor that adorns the wall of his bedroom. multiple pictures of what you assume to be his friends were strewn all across the room. some of them seemed to be taken when he was in high school and some more recent. there were doing various funny and serious poses, minho seems to be really well liked.

"alright,"

he starts handing you a pair of black jogging pants and a plain white t-shirt. you reluctantly take the pile of clothes from him, your fingers momentarily brushing. you were certain you could hear your pulse thump in your ears. it confuses you greatly.

"this is the smallest one i have, sorry."

he coughs and rubs his neck, "the bathroom is over there, if you wanna change."

awkwardly shuffling on the way to the bathroom, a sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you lock the door behind. why were you so affected by a simple touch of his fingers? this was minho. you quickly shove the odd feeling down.

you hold the white shirt up to your torso, it was definitely too big. the hem of the shirt reaching your thighs and sleeves reaching your elbows as well.

peeling out of your clothes, and hold up minho's large shirt to finally wear. as you put it on, you could faintly smell the cleanness of detergent and a faint musky patchouli scent. your cheeks burn with the realization that you were really going to spend the night here.

when you return to the empty main corridor, the leather couch was already set up with a cozy looking blanket and multiple plush pillows. you struggle to hide a smile.

tossing and turning, you struggle to find a comfortable position on the couch. the blanket proving to be too hot right now, you push it off. you check your phone out of boredom and the led screen lights up.

1:19 am. it was in the middle of the night and the rain continues to pour outside. the occasional rumble of thunder once again evoking anxiety in you. sighing, you don't think you will be getting any sleep tonight. it's just you and your thoughts for now.

thinking back to this afternoon, the whole situation seems so absurd and surreal. who would've thought that you and minho would pretend being friends even if it was just for one night. it was a strange chance of circumstance.

the door from the end of hallway opens, a scruffy and disheveled minho rubs his eyes to get rid of his sleepiness. you sit up in curiosity to observe his sleepy state. he pads over the wooden floors to the kitchen looking for water, not sparing you a second glance.

when he was out of sight, you start thinking of ways to distract yourself, wanting to already succumb to slumber.

“oh, it’s you.” he says after coming back, finally noticing your slumped figure. "didn't sleep yet?" minho ruffles his hair haphazardly, trying to smoothen it down. you shake your head,

"insomnia. it's the thunder."

"ah."

"the couch is making your neck hurt isn't it?"

"yeah, that too."

he opens his mouth to hopefully offer another solution, but shuts it immediately. he wasn't sure if it would make you comfortable so he just stands there quietly.

"i'll go get you more pillows." he places his cup down on the coffee table before going to his room. minho stops in his tracks when he feels your fingers tug on his shirt. another strike of thunder flashes outside making you flinch.

"stay." you catch yourself saying before even realizing. it's selfish to ask but you don't think you could stand the thunder alone. watching him stare into your eyes, as if looking for an explanation- you offer him no words.

minho takes a seat at the end of the couch silently joining you, sipping at his mug. to fill the awkward silence, you clear your throat and fiddle with the ends of the cotton blanket.

you start thinking of ways to justify your selfish request of making him stay.

"i finished that damn paperwork you dumped on me. dick move by the way." you chortled to try to lighten the mood. he seems to notice your attempts to distract yourself and indulge your sudden desire to chat.

he folds his hands on his stomach, grinning. his bunny like teeth poking out. you always thought it was endearing. "it's fun seeing you all grumpy."

"sadist." you simper, the anger you felt from a yesterday dwindling at the surprisingly pleasant banter.

quietness takes over again. he stares into the celling, pondering. "i didn't know you were close with my grandmother." he says after a while. he avoids your gaze and places his mug back on the table.

"neither did i. it wasn't deliberate," you reply. he turns to you, curious about the story. so you explain to him how you met, for how long and that you didn't even recognize him despite seeing the photos.

he chuckles, "i bet it was this pose, wasn't it?" minho imitates the very same pose that he did in the photo, eliciting another laugh from you. it was exactly the same.

minho shuffles a little bit closer to you, now propping his arm on the back of the couch. you straighten up, now being hyperaware of his presence and proximity. he looks really different without his glasses.

a furry tail suddenly brushes against your exposed leg. you lean forward to check what had just rubbed past you, it was one of the cats. it meows for attention, pawing at the base of the couch.

"your cats are really cute." you watch him pick the orange haired feline and place it on his lap. one by one, two of the other cats that you've seen this afternoon start padding over to where you and minho were seated, jumping on the couch.

"that's dori," he points to the gray furred kitty. "doongie," an orange cat with a predominately white underbelly, "and soonie." the last one who's also orange but more so than the other. minho raises soonie's paw, waving it at you. cute.

"this one looks like you."

you scratch soonie's chin, the low purring getting louder the longer you do it. minho stares longingly at your eyes with an unreadable expression at the comment. you're not paying any attention to him.

after a while, the cats start to get tired of the two of you. they walk of to the end of the couch, now ignoring you and minho. you fold your arms and relaxing into the back of the couch, falling into a deep and comfortable silence that would be sorely missed.

"why do you hate me?" you say abruptly. the curiosity finally won, anxiety gnawing at your every fiber of your being. it was finally starting to be peaceful between you two and actually talking like normal people, your sudden comment might've affected it's chances of becoming true.

his head whips towards your direction in what you assume to be disbelief, furrowing his eyebrows. "since when did i hate you?"

you struggle to not scoff at his blatant charade, "minho, you have it out for me." this was strange and ridiculous. was he really being serious? how could he not be aware of the months of months of his incessant attitude towards you, and only you.

you remind yourself to be calm, to be civil. but he continues to feign ignorance. it was starting to get difficult.

"you don't treat me like the others, you constantly make my life harder by teasing me, and you dump your own paperwork on me. only me. the only time you talked to me normally was just a few minutes ago." your voice rising with exasperation.

"what did i do?" voice ultimately faltering, tired.

"i-..." minho refuses to meet your eyes, offering no solace.

instantly feeling vulnerable by your little outburst and by the lack of response on his end, you hug and bury the plush pillow for comfort. you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home and pretend this conversation did not happen. confrontation wasn't your strong suit.

after a long while of silence, he at last utters a low, "i'm so sorry."

"that was very, very stupid of me." minho's eyes are now trained on the hardwood floor, unable to even glance at you.

"what? the paperwork?" you scoff, "no, not just that. all of it."

you furrow your brows at him, "i just find you really really cute when you're mad." he continues. you stare at him, incredulousness and anger painting your features. before you could give him a piece of your mind, he speaks.

"and i realized i didn't know how to actually approach you normally without the teasing." he purses his lips, the cup on the table long forgotten. minho is staring up the celling now, still refusing to look to your direction.

"would you also believe me if i said i was jealous?"

you don't know what to say in return, heavily processing what he just said. what was happening? your mouth runs dry, confusion knocking the wind out of you.

"of your friend." he says, emphasizing the last part. you try to rack your brain of who he was referring to.

"jeongin?" you tilt your head. he says nothing, confirming the assumption. "i overheard him talking to his friends, bragging about how he was gonna take you out to this restaurant that he wants to drag you to." you couldn't possibly think of a reason why he would be jealous, you and jeongin are just friends. and why was he jealous in the first place?

"why are you so worked up about it? he's just a friend, minho."

"i'm not even sure myself," minho shakes his head in exasperation and turns to you. "but i like you, y/n."

standing there, paralyzed at his unexpected confession. minho likes you? he was giving you crap all year round, and yet he likes you? you shoot him a perplexed look, "wait, what?"

"let me get this straight," you hug your legs, trying to decipher what he was saying. "so your plan was to annoy the hell out of me, dump your paperwork seeing that you don't want me hanging out with jeongin because...you like me?"

"well, now it sounds stupid when you put it like that." he huffs, crossing his arms and pouting cutely.

deafening silence falls between you two, unable to say anything meaningful without stuttering and fumbling through your words. you just sat there, not really saying anything and staring at the floor. realizing that you probably don't feel the same, he sighs. its about time he went back to bed too.

"it's late. you should probably get some-"

before you knew it you felt your pulse roaring in your ears, grabbing his wrist and stopping him from standing up. you were going to regret it if you let him go.

"i like you too."

a magnetic pull causes you both to inch closer together, wordlessly gazing into each others eyes. you make the first move to lean into him, slowly placing an experimental peck on the side of his lips. you unsurely place your hands on his chest, "is this okay?"

his eyes flickering down to your lips and then back to your eyes. he licks his lips, still staring intensely- lovingly at you. he softly grins, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears and returns the kiss on your lips.

eyelids fluttering shut, you feel him press against you with much enthusiasm, deepening the kiss. you cup his cheeks as a reply, roughly pulling him towards you.

you already forgot about the rain outside.

he hoists you up his lap, a hand on your waist as he trails desperate kisses on your neck. minho pays his attention back to your lips, sloppy and open mouthed, saliva stringing from your mouths. urgency and eagerness was reflected in the way you both tangle your arms around each other, touching and caressing every part that you could reach.

all of the unresolved tension was slowly slipping away, replaced by desire.

a sudden meow breaks the two of you out of your trance. the green eyes of soonie stares up at the two of you, sitting quietly and their tail swishing side to side.

you loosen your arms around his neck, you two bursting out in laughter at the interruption.

"do you want to maybe take this to my room?" minho asks, placing a thumb on your lips. you didn't need to think twice.

your head hit his plush pillow, the cold and crisp linen feeling heavenly against your hot and flushed skin. shuffling up to the headboard, you watch minho with hazy eyes as he inches towards your form and props his knee on the edge of the bed.

he smirks as he sinks down on the mattress, hovering over your feverish body. minho sneaks a hand behind your back, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you over so effortlessly to the top as if you weighed nothing.

"now, where were we?" he murmurs into the column of your neck, his hot breath sending tingling and electrifying shivers down your spine. you respond by trailing your hands all over his clothed chest, wanting to get the offending article of clothing off.

he chuckles and grabs your wrists, halting you from doing so. minho kisses the inside of your wrist, a teasing smile dawns on his face. you look at him with desperate, pleading eyes, wanting to have him already.

minho adjusts his tight hold on you, biting his plush lips in anticipation. with you now towering over his figure, you lean down to capture the lips that you had been fantasizing about all evening and bury your hands into his hair. the kiss was wet and messy, your tongues sloppily and desperately swallowing each other's moans. a trail of saliva strings from both of your lips.

it was starting to get too hot for your liking. you cease your movements for a second to remove minho’s borrowed shirt from your body. minho’s eyes shamelessly rake over your chest, his finger leisurely trailing the middle of your breasts. you let out a low chuckle, finally unclasping the hook of your bra. you release a breathy shudder upon feeling something hard poking you from where you sat. grabbing both of his wrists, you eagerly put them up to your tits, you could feel your sensitive nipples harden because of his cold touch. minho starts pinching at the sensitive buds, prolonging his eye contact with you, clearly enjoying your erratic squirming.

you suck in a sharp breath and almost topple over him in pleasure as he takes a nipple into his mouth, hot, warm, and wet. it was overwhelming, having no one touch you like this before. he continues to lap at your hardening bud. minho groans, closing his eyes and further burying his head in your chest. your tits were covered in spit, glistening under the subtle light of his night lamp.

minho, while smothering himself in your chest, takes a moment to hook his arm over you. his skillful hands trail over to the waistband of your jogging pants and pulls it down. you oblige, leaning closer to him and lifting your hips so he wouldn’t have to leave your tits. you jump in surprise once you feel a light teasing smack on your now semi exposed ass, only covered by thin panties. it elicits a small moan from you, pulling his head closer. you lightly pet his head and thread your hands in his hair affectionately as he continues his sucking, feeling a coiling sensation from your core.

but before you could cum, he detaches from your breasts, leaving his lips glistening with his own spit and his breath raggedy. a sly grin that you have come to love and hate graces his face upon seeing you whimper. the lack of stimulation makes you deflate, heaving frustratedly at his relentless teasing.

the familiar throbbing heat from your pussy suddenly gives you an idea. his hungry gaze watches you in curiosity. the bulge you were currently sitting on now immediately taking all of your attention. you do an experimental hump on it, hoping to relieve the aching heat from your cunt. minho's hands fly to your hips, groaning at the sensation.

"all this time, you made me think that you hated me-" you moan out, the fabric of his pants providing just the right amount of resistance. "when really you liked me?"

he stifles his moans by biting his bottom lip, his pants surely soaked through now.

"i did say i liked seeing you mad." minho manages to grunt out, licking his lips. you almost reel in disbelief but you keep your composure.

"you're confusing." another thrust.

"and i'm still mad at you." you huff out. hips now wildly humping against every ridge and curve of his cock. the sight of him makes you delirious, even more so that you’re humping against him.

"i-i'll make it up to you," he murmurs lowly, hissing the more times you buck up against him. "fu-fuck..."

despite the way that you were using him, it does nothing to quell the horniness you were feeling, in fact, it even spurs you on further. the wet patch from your panties soak and slowly transfer on to the front of his pants, your own wetness spreading messily every time you grind on his delicious dick, the ridges providing the needed friction that you've been so desperately craving. minho watches you, your tits bouncing up and down- he feels like drooling. "i love it when you use me." he finally breathes out, hands still on your hips, his nails making crescents on your skin. and finally, you cum, his words sending you over the edge.

it tremors through your body, white hot cum leaks out from your panties and you can’t seem to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on his broad chest. you clench your eyes shut in shyness, suddenly embarrassed from using minho so blatantly. he coos and pats your head in comfort, almost like how he pets his cats.

planning to make it up to him and eat his words, you sit up and shuffle down his hips. you admire the wet patch that stains his front, mouth watering. this surprises him, watching you with tantalizing eyes. you make a move to grab at his waistband, pulling it down slowly. he hisses out in pleasure as the waistband runs over his still clothed dick. minho’s boxers were thoroughly wet, you could see a dark patch on the front where you sat on him and where precum leaked out. you lift up a hand to experimentally give his bulge a tight little squeeze, him letting out a little shudder response.

it hardens even more under your touch- so you decide to tease him to test the waters even further, running your fingers over and over his tent causing him to hiss out, sending you a warning look. taking this as a sign, you lift the waistband of his boxers and stare at his eyes while doing so. it springs up immediately after freeing it from its confines. his long and fat cock stands tall, the tip a deep red, and the veins prominently running along the sides. the sight makes your mouth water in anticipation. you place a thumb on his cockhead, running slow circles on his slit causing it to drool heavily on your hand.

his cat like mouth parts in ecstasy once you start teasing the underside of his length with your hand and licking the oozing liquid up. minho’s hips start thrusting at the sensation, forcing you to hold him down. it was admittedly hard to do so, his thick thighs almost the size of your head but you still managed to restrain him from rutting wildly. the groan that leaves his lips sound is absolutely nothing short of sinful when you finally put your mouth on him. every desperate huff from him leaves you light headed, wishing you could record and replay it over and over again. when couldn’t fit all of him, you resorted to pumping the remaining of the shaft were you couldn’t reach. you egg him on even further by running a hand over his abs, seeing how his thighs and abdomen tense up.

you look up through your lashes to watch minho unravel. his eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the stimulation. while it bobs messily in your mouth, you try to pay special attention to his hot and heavy balls, rubbing it back and forth in the palm of your hand, hoping to get him to cum. minho closes his eyes shut again and tenses his thighs, finally cumming. his hands travel down to grasp at his length, taking it over yours, spurting his essence everywhere. minho finishes with a loud relieved groan, slapping his dick lazily against your cheek which you greedily lapped at.

“that might be the best head i’ve ever had, bunny.” he bites his lips, his voice light and airy. you quickly sit up from your position and gawked at him, suddenly feeling bashful at his apparent pet name for you.

minho gives you a mischievous cat like grin in return, feeling absolutely delighted at your expression. he begins to lightly graze your leg, leaving tentative touches and gentle pecks along the stretch of your lower limb. lifting your right leg up, you stop minho from inching any closer towards you by putting your foot on his chest.

"y/n..."

you pretend to think for a moment, stretching this out for as long as possible. he would just have to wait since he had yet to make up for being so mean to you. a little fun also wouldn’t hurt, right? no, you were quite wrong.

minho again grabs your ankle albeit more roughly this time and continues to place chaste kisses with more passion this time, clearly adamant about giving your legs and thighs hickeys. at long last, minho slides the wet and abused fabric off you, the panty is thoroughly soaked and it’s material sticking and clinging to your core.

he hooks ur leg over his shoulder, urging to part your legs apart and spreading them obscenely open. staring intensely into your eyes, minho starts teasing your core with feather light touches. “you like this?” he says his mischievous grin, continuing his ministrations. you offer him no response as he traces figures and shapes on your wet pussy that has you seeing stars. his fingers now erratically sliding up and down your folds. you almost sob at his nonchalant teasing, eyes clenching shut and begging him to put something in.

something about observing his veiny hand treading lightly just the outside of your lower lips leads you to tuck your face into your hands, the sight was like straight out of porn. “no, no. hands up bunny.” minho takes a hold of your wrists, putting them effortlessly above your head.

“you have to look.”

his free hand drags along your legs to pull them apart and starts lowering his chiseled face down to your core. his nose just close enough to feel the small exhaling puffs of hot air on your pussy, causing it to twitch in suspense. the brunette sneaks a peak at your trembling figure before diving right in, the first contact of his tongue on your cunt was searing hot, instantly making jolt out in shock and cry out. minho takes this as a sign to hold down your hips, pressing, flattening, and letting his tongue rampant against you all while avoiding your clit. he hums at the taste, huffing and delving further into your pussy, eating you out with such intensity, placing open mouthed sloppy kisses. he spits to make your pussy wetter so he could languidly and erratically make out with your cunt.

you throw your head back into the heaps of pillows behind you as he starts to pay attention to your clit, softly biting the bundle of nerves. minho then moves to swipe his index up at the large amount of cum and spit trickling from your core, using it as lube for his fingers. he gently prods his index in your entrance all while still licking you up. his long fingers, deliciously stretching your hole, deeper than all those nights you've tried to do so yourself. the bliss you were feeling was overwhelming. minho croaks out a little ‘hah, hah, hah…” every time he would come up for breath, completely drunk off your musky and intoxicating scent. you also don’t miss how he subtly humps the bed sheets he was lying under either. you began to arch your back upon hearing his desperate sounds, your arousal spurting on his face.

minho looks like a cat who got the cream, his pupils blown wide open and wetness trickling down the side of his mouth. he lets go of your hands after you were finished, the numb arm falling on your forehead as you catch your breath. he stands up to re-adjust your form on the bed, pulling you closer to his pelvis.

minho stares at your eyes, asking silently for permission. you look up at him with a toothy- fucked out grin.

the feelings that you couldn't place earlier was now clear, you wanted him.

minho reaches a hand over your face, caressing your flushed cheeks. he wordlessly leans to tenderly place a kiss onto your forehead and on your lips. you reciprocate lovingly, capturing his lips once again. minho without warning, pushes his long and girthy dick into you, the abrupt intrusion making you sob out. the bulbous head of his cock rubs deliciously against your gummy walls, you swore you could feel it in your throat.

“there we go. there we go…”

minho sets a rough pace, his hips thrusting against your pelvic bone. “ah-ah!”

toned and skillful arms cage you in, forcing you to look deep into his dark pools. "you better keep quiet, or else the whole house will hear you." that for some reason makes your cunt even wetter, weeping more than you thought was possible. the sole idea of getting caught with their precious son doing such lewd acts, it seems sacrilegious and absolutely sinful.

he once again reaches for your hardened nipple, tweaking and pinching the bud between his thumb and index. the bed was now creaking with how fast minho was going, you silently prayed that no one in the house suspects anything. the thought mortifies you.

minho leans against your figure and nuzzles up on your chest, looking up at you with an oh so innocent grin while he continues to pound your cunt. his movements start to stutter once he feels your walls clench around him. your mind begins to feel like mush but you still try to make an effort to suppress your groans of pleasure. a strangled sound between a moan and a whine leaves your throat once he hits that one particular spot in you.

“keep quiet, little kitty.”

you start squirming uncontrollably at the huskiness of his voice, not having experienced an intense orgasm like this before. “cum, you can do it.” your rutting hips stop to convulse for a moment, feeling your orgasm rip through the ends of your nerves. leaning back on his chest, you struggle to catch your breath, heaving from the aftermath of your orgasm.

fogginess still clouding your vision, you caught a small glimpse of minho to notice that he still hadn’t pulled out, his hands circling your waist gently. you unintentionally clench on his cock, yep he was still hard, very hard. minho sets his eyes on you, and gives you that look. oh no, you knew that look. the same one that he uses around the office to persuade a higher up to heed to his request. you nibble on your lower lip in excitement.

“one more, you can do one more right?” he coos, lifting your legs and his hips starting his monstrous once pace again. you double over in overstimulation, crying out in pleasure. his breath hitches after a particularly hard thrust, choosing to muffle his own cries by shoving his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your exhilarating scent. you respond by coyly playing with the hair on his nape, hoping that it would ground you to reality.

minho then sneaks a hand from below you and hugs your figure, pulling you impossibly closer. he swallows your moans, kissing you feverishly and running his hands wildly all throughout. it was so urgent, so intense, like he’s finding a way to meld your bodies together, his erratic and messy thrusts reflecting that.

your fingers clutch his thick bed sheets, euphoria piercing your body every time he drives another rough thrust into you. the lewd noises coming from the two of you echos and bounces off the walls, the conversation tomorrow morning was going to be so humiliating and awkward at the dining table.

you can’t hold it in any longer, and by the looks of it, neither can he. minho cums with a loud groan, spurting inside you. "goooood kitty." minho rasps out. you gape at the warmness, causing you to finish as well. minho reaches his hand downwards to spread your combined release, spreading it messily. it drips out of you obscenely as he pulls out.

you were positively flushed. he was too, sweat still glistening on the wide expanse of his chest and forehead. minho brushes your hair back affectionately before plopping down tiredly next to you. you turn to him, wanting to admire his fucked out features but he looks occupied and staring into space.

“what's the matter?”

"i really am sorry about the misunderstanding. i feel terrible that i made you feel like that. and i do really like you. wasn't lying about that." minho sighs out, closing his eyes for a moment and then faces you. “i want to start over, properly this time.”

"apology accepted. and yeah of course." you say, quite happy with how this whole misunderstanding turned out. "i really like you too." he kisses the top of your head, making you wrap an arm around him to cuddle.

"now you'll just have to figure out how to reject the girl beside your desk. she wants to ask you out."

"maybe we can start by just making out in front of her."

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids hard thoughts #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst

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chososdiscordkitten · 8 months

Text

MDNI

Pt 1 here

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader Content: no use of y/n, SOME plot, read pt 1 for context, BREEDING KINK, PREGNANCY and BABY TRAPPING, unestablished relationship, reader has an iud that Gojo is NOT a fan of, manipulating, reader is a lil dumb lol, talk of birth control and hiding it, creampies 24/7, mentions of NURSING and BRESTFEEDING, 'wife' used like twice Word count: 3.3k

(a.n) I kept getting asked for pt 2 so here it is. more plot, not so much smut this time lol

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It had been 3 months since Gojo came to the conclusion that pregnancy was the solution to his fear of you finding someone else. Seeing you come out of the bathroom, a bath towel wrapped around you as small droplets fell from your neck.

Looking at you bewildered as though this was the greatest disappointment he had ever felt. You were talking about something- something irrelevant to the issue at hand.

Why you weren't swelling with his child right now. Why you were denying him- the world of the next generation of Gojo babies.

And it’s not like he could keep letting out those little ‘get pregnant’ comments while he fucked you, often contemplating asking you to gag him so they wouldn’t slip. You had your suspicions, not outwardly saying it but if one more little comment fell from him you'd be forced to ask.

Satoru was sure that your medical state wasn't an issue, he carefully combed through your medical records to find any sort of reason as to why you weren't pregnant. One appointment 3 years ago for an iud insertion, and one appointment to get it removed a few weeks after you met him.

And it's not like he was the issue here, he made sure he was fine in that aspect. Gojo was sure he was fine- and you had no issues with getting pregnant.

So, the solution to his fear needed a solution too. No problem, this just meant he had to fuck you even more now. More often, and even move you into his apartment. Permanently.

He was hung up in his own little world as his eyes burned holes through your damp skin. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Gojo quickly fixed his face as he looked at you with a smile, “M’just thinking about havin you move into my place.” He hummed, folding his arms to rest beneath his head. Eyes following your expression as you waited for him to continue, “You're already here all the time~” he hummed, you raised your eyebrows in defense.

“That's because you can't keep your hands off of me for longer than an hour.” you laughed as he pursed his lips, feeling like he was being scolded in that moment. Knowing you meant it as a joke- but it was true.

No matter how many showers- how many breaks. Satoru was always ready to go again, and again, and again. Praying that this time will be the one. Gojo daydreamed of coming home to you, breasts swelled with milk to welcome his child into the world.

Glow on your skin and tummy growing his child. Twins, he'd fantasize. “We should just get married while we're at it.” he’d joke, knowing if he kept bringing it up, you'd cave. Knowing you weren't the kind of person to co-parent.

But those daydreams were always cut short. Whenever he'd message you saying he wanted to see you, only for you to tell him you were on your period.

We all know that never stopped him, but the disappointment knowing his attempts were in vain, always made him try even harder next time.

And yes you did question his constant need to fuck you, at times fully skipping prep and pushing into you- knowing you didn’t really need it since you had cleaned yourself up from the last round not to long ago.

How he'd bite his tongue whenever you'd ask him to cum inside. And I mean lets be real, when has Gojo ever bit his tongue during sex?

All but telling you to ‘shut up’ when you’d whisper in his ear, “Fill me up-” knowing if you didn't, he'd start babbling words that had been boxed up at the back of i his mind.

That one time Gojo let them slip, the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock greedily, the words pushed themselves past his lips forcefully.

“Get pregnant” he demanded of you, only you didn't listen. You found it an odd thing to say- sure. But knowing him, he’s said worse things in the heat of the moment.

You always chalked up Satoru’s babbles before he came as meaningless words, knowing you shouldn't hold him to the promises and threats he'd make before he came.

Gojo’s made empty proposals into your ears before, “S-so good, m-” he hesitated, a low whine leaving his lips by just thinking about what he was about to say, “-marry me hm?~” he’d whisper as he overstimulated your senses.

Making sure you kept your eyes open to look at him, taking in the desperate sight of his forming ‘o’ face. Ears being fully invaded by the vulgar squelching from his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, and his unforgiving whines and moans.

Both of your hands gripping tightly on his back, knowing you'd leave raised marks on his skin. So caught up in your own orgasm you'd say ‘yes’ to any of his questions right now.

And there was nothing Satoru liked more than asking you questions when you were close to cumming, fully taking advantage of you not being able to think straight.

Even if you had just gotten out of the shower, freshly cleaned from the last round. He'd still toss that useless towel off of you and go again, making sure to keep you on the edge- not fully giving in to your pleads and you urging him to hurry up.

Relishing in the idea that round after round, unable to count just how many times he's cum inside of you that weekend- you're still up for more.

“You wanna go get tested together?” he asked you randomly one morning, making you look at him with furrowed eyes.

“Do I have to get tested?” you asked, unknowing that he had other sexual partners. Satoru let out a small laugh at your accusatory tone.

“No.” he smiled playfully, “I just thought it would be fun.” He hummed. And as he requested, you and him ended up in a clinic. Getting tested for any diseases or any issues.

And Gojo insisted he stay in the room as the nurse asked you the embarrassing questions. Sitting on the uncomfortable exam table, fiddling with your thumbs and thinking of how stupid it was to do this after months of having unprotected sex.

Looking over at Satoru and seeing a smile on his lips as you heard the paper wrinkle below you.

“Are you sexually active?” the overworked nurse flashed her eyes to you above the clipboard. You sighed, “Yes.” Looking over at his smug smile.

“What kind? Oral, vaginal, anal?” she asked, looking at you. This would've been fine if it was just you and the nurse, but having Gojo in the room with you made this even more humiliating.

“Uh-” you hesitated, eyes flashing to Satoru and back to the nurse. “...All?” you hesitated, shrinking in your seat when you heard her check three boxes with the pen in her hand.

“How many people have you had sex with in the past six months?” she asked nonchalantly, obviously having bigger issues in the world than what was happening in this room right now.

“One.” you answered, making Gojo’s chest swell with pride, knowing you were being faithful- even if there wasn't a label on what he was to you.

“In the last 12 months?” the nurse asked, you sighed, looking over at his smug face. “One.” your tone was a little more stern, knowing if you had said anything else this would've ended in a very different way.

“Are you or your partner trying to get pregnant?” the nurse flashed her eyes to Gojo, seeing him mouth a quiet ‘yes’

“No.” you answered, making the nurse look back at you and check no on the clipboard.

“Are you or your partner using contraceptives or birth control?” the nurse exhaled, your hands between your knees, ‘no’ Satoru answered the question mentally.

“Yes.” you answered honestly, making him furrow his eyebrows and snap his eyes to you. You looked at him, turning your head as though you were asking him ‘what?’

“What kind?” the nurse asked, looking at you directly.

“I've had an iud for 3 years.” you looked back at her, hearing her write down on the paper. Satoru’s mind started remembering the online records he read, he was so sure he saw an appointment for a removal on them.

“Any plans on removal, or renewing?” she asked, side eyeing Gojo who muttered a quiet ‘yes’

“No.” you scoffed, looking at the nurse thinking he was just trying to be funny, “I had an appointment for removal- but I didn't go.” you admitted, looking over at Gojo who was suddenly sitting very stiff.

“Okay-” the nurse started, clipping the pen into her pocket and taking a step back towards the door- “The doctor will be in soon.” The nurse gave a fake smile before stepping out of the small examination room.

A soul killing silence was in the room, mentally Gojo was scolding you for not telling him.

“Why didn't you get ‘it’ removed?” referring to the pesky little thing inside of you, you furrowed your eyebrows.

You tried remembering why you didnt go, “Hmm,” you pondered, looking at him, seeing an opportunity to lighten the heavy tension in the room. “I met you and somehow I knew I'd need it.” you joked, making him let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Besides, you didn't really think I was letting you finish inside of me without birth control…Right?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

That's exactly what Gojo thought, he thought that you loved him enough to not care about the repercussions that followed his addiction of cumming inside of you.

Satoru was silent, “Right?” you asked again, throwing him from his train of thought.

He stuttered, “I-I just don't remember you mentioning it.” he gave you a half smile, already plotting how he'd convince you to remove it.

“You never asked.” you scoffed, dangling your feet from the examining table, with a smile you looked at him. “And it's a good thing-” you huffed, “If I didn't have it- your apartment would be crawling with a bunch of Gojo toddlers.” You joked with a laugh.

The thought made his heart crack, picturing all of the wasted cum he's pumped into you. His pouting lip for the rest of the appointment worried you, not hearing anymore dumb comments or seeing him smile anymore. In your mind, you thought that maybe he didn't like that you hid this from him.

That to his sensitive feelings, this was a sort of betrayal. To Satoru this was just another hurdle he'd have to jump over to achieve his goal.

On the drive back to his place you held onto the negative tests from both of you. Gojo was thinking of all the ways he'd be able to convince you to remove it, even thinking about including Mei in his plans. Knowing if the words came from another woman, you'd hear them more clearly than if they came from him.

All it would take was a few bucks and she’d play along with his plans, yeah. That's a good idea.

He wanted to call Mei right there as he was driving, urging her to call you and tell you how bad iud’s were for your health. But he knew this idea would have to be nursed in your mind with time. ‘1? No, 2 months is more than enough time.’

Eventually you were convinced that iud’s were the devil, with Mei telling you horror stories about them in one ear, and ads on your phone showing birth control pills as an alternative from how much you were speaking about this.

You knew that Satoru wouldn't go back to using condoms, the conversation of asking him to use them would be futile.

So you got it removed, with Gojo telling you that it's for the best. “That poor little thing was probably working overtime heh~” he’d whisper into your ear. Taking one pill a day was tedious, but you did it for your own health.

Even if Satoru joked that- “You don't even need any birth control~” you still took it. Everyday for the first month.

Of course, Gojo was elated at his success. Knowing that the small pack of pills were easier to hide than something that was inside of you.

And with staying at his place more often than not- leaving the pack of pills in your bag became an unsecure hiding place. Oftentimes finding the pack in odd places that you certainly did not put them. When you wouldn't be able to find them, you'd ask him if he's seen them. Making him nod his head ‘no’ with a content smile.

Ultimately leading you to miss one or two days of taking the pill. And that led you to forgetting if you had taken a pill that day or not, but checking the pack, and seeing there was one missing from that day, you knew you did. Unknowing that Satoru was punching out the small pill and tossing it, knowing how forgetful you were at times.

The hopes of you being forgetful weren't the only thing he was counting on. Satoru made sure to keep a steady routine of intercourse after any activity.

Breakfast? He'd push you against the counter and kiss you- humming into your mouth before pulling away. “You taste like syrup-” he whispered against you. Making you let out a small giggle before connecting your lips to his once more.

Not caring if the half eaten pancakes would go cold, Satoru would gladly empty himself into you over and over again on the same counter he was just making breakfast on.

Morning, noon, and night he filled you up. And it's not like you had any second thoughts, besides it's like Satoru justified it.

“It just takes a little bit of water nd soap and you're clean again.” whenever you told him you didn't want to make a mess. Saying that sheets can be cleaned whenever he’d dirty them.

“Mops exist.” he’d defend whenever his seed would spill out of you and land on the floor.

If he was being honest, just knowing his cum was being spilled made his soul cry. So he found a solution to this problem. Cockwarming. It was perfect in his mind, being able to stay inside of you till he was sure his load had more than enough time to impregnate you. Now having a fondness for keeping you plugged up afterwards.

Not letting you clean up by saying, “Let's just stay like this.” he’d hum in your ear, holding you close as he pretended to go to sleep. And knowing how stubborn he was- like a perfect future wife, you'd let him.

As much as he liked to take all the credit, fate finally granted him his wish. And it was as he pictured it.

Satoru noticed a shimmering glow on your cheekbones long before you did, he felt the difference in the way your breasts filled his hands.

The way you'd cover your nose whenever you smelled something he didn't notice. The random mornings you wake up and run straight to the bathroom.

The mere image of you potentially being pregnant made Gojo want to pull you under him again. He would never admit it to you- but the idea of your breasts full of milk, so full that they'd leak- it drove him mad.

His mouth would suddenly feel very empty and dry anytime he thought of it. Trailing thoughts as he heard you speak, wondering if you'd ever let him taste it- ‘just to taste’ he’d think. Knowing damn well he'd keep asking for a taste over and over again.

Satoru was so sure he could convince you to let him nurse on your breast. Picturing you complaining on how full they felt- how painful it would be. Only for him to happily offer his assistance, “I just want to help,” he'd tell you.

And you being the perfect wife you are, you'd let him. Satoru relished the thought that you'd grant any of his wishes, no matter how filthy they were. Even thinking about it had him reeling for a taste- leading him to aimlessly suck on your breast harshly.

Wishing for something to come out prematurely, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you cradled his face in your lap, your other hand stroking his cock softly as you unknowingly played into his fantasies.

On one weekend that Gojo was out of town, you picked up a test. Fearing the small changes happening in your own body. Placing the small stick on the bathroom counter, hands held together almost in prayer, ‘pleasepleaseplease.’ you muttered to yourself.

Over consuming anxiety flooding your mind as you saw the blinking halt- ‘Pregnant’ the test read. You exhaled sharply, closing your eyes and feeling the world come crashing down on your shoulders.

Unbeknownst to Satoru, you thought this would be the last straw. Thinking he couldn't busy himself with a child, let alone have a child out of wedlock- not even in a relationship.

Not even sure about your own place in this world, now considering bringing a child into it. You thought up every single horrible scenario that could happen if you presented him with the stick. Not even recalling all the sweet words he'd tell you.

The ‘ I love you’s ‘ that came straight from his heart when he'd fuck you. All the joking futures he’d picture with you.

Somehow you saw him as every cruel man you met before him. Doubts of ‘if I was enough, he wouldn't just be a situationship.’ unfolding in your mind as you blame yourself for this accident.

You inhaled, remembering to not overthink. To not assume till you spoke to him. So you waited. You waited in his place, on his couch. The white and blue stick wrapped in a napkin as you clutched it in your pocket. Waiting for him to unlock the door and step through at any moment.

You snapped your head to the moving doorknob, seeing him bust through the doorway with a happy smile. Seeing you as he pictured you all those times. Tear stained cheeks, shaky hands and pouting lips. Hurrying to you asking ‘whats wrong?’

“Sit.” you croaked, closing your eyes with a sigh as you felt him sit next to you. Pulling out your hand from your pocket, unwrapping the napkin and placing the stick on the table.

“I'm pregnant.” you whimpered, eyes tearing up as you saw his face go unchanged. The corner of his lips threatening to curl into a smile. “What do I do ‘toru? Tell me what to do.” a hot tear fell from your eye, fearing that he’d toss you aside with a few hundred dollars to take care of it.

“Why’re you cryin?” he hummed, wrapping an arm around you. You let out a struggling breath.

“I just-” you inhaled, “I'm so scared.” you cried, pressing your face to his chest.

“Scared of what?” he scoffed, trying to sound sincere, fighting off the sinister smile that crept onto his face. Proud eyes staring directly to the blue and white plastic stick.

You pulled away from him, not being able to find the words to form the sentences. Satoru took your hands in his, looking into your eyes with all the feigned sincerity he could muster.

“I will take care of you.” he started, caressing his thumb over your knuckles as you sniffled. Taking a hand from yours and pressing it to your tummy, “Both of you.” he said with a smile, making you halt your tears and look at him bewildered.

Not knowing why he looked so excited right now, why he looked… accomplished? Seeing that glimmer in his eye he only got when he triumphed.

.... I don't know what to say. im sowy this doesn't have as much smut. yes this is a Segway to me one day writing a lactation kink post, im just testing the waters hehe

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yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 1 year

Text

slowly, i'm going down

access full masterlist here!

pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)

au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut

word count: 4816 words

warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!

synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice

mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.

a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞

taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife

Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.

Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).

And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.

Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.

He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.

Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.

The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!

Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?

The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.

A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!

"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.

"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"

Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.

Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.

"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.

"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.

Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?

A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?

"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.

"Mingi, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."

"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.

Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"

Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"

"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.

As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.

That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.

Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.

"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.

A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.

For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.

Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.

Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.

And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.

Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.

He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.

So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.

His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.

Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-

Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.

To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.

Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.

He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.

Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.

Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.

Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.

Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.

Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.

Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.

Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.

Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."

"Incubus," Mingi points out.

"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"

Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."

You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.

God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."

How did that get out there?

You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."

Cute?!

Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.

With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."

"Mingi- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.

Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.

His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.

Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.

#mingi smut #ateez mingi smut #song mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #ateez song mingi #kpop #smut #kpop smut #fem reader #ateez x reader #mingi x reader

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avis-writeshq · 24 days

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pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x sunshine!fem!reader genre: fluff, roommate au, childhood friends warnings: general criminal minds violence, not beta-read oops a/n: I renounce the MoReid shippers; they’re SIBLINGS !!!! also, apologies for lack of posts !! have been very busy with uni :( wc: 1.06k part 1 | part 2

Spencer was shot. It all happened so quickly– the sound of the gun firing, the grunt that he let out and the apprehension of the UnSub. Too quickly, but such is the fickleness of life. This was one of the rare occasions where the ballistic vest did not do its job, the bullet jamming into his side. Hotch was on the UnSub in seconds, the cuffs on his wrists before anyone could blink.

“Shit, Reid,” Derek gasps out, watching the way blood seeps through his once pristine white shirt, and he presses his hand against the wound. “Shit, Hotch! Hotch! We need a medic!”

***

“It’s going to be okay,” Aaron assures as best he can. His face is grim and Derek is shaking his head in frustration, hands trembling and cold from washing his hands over and over again. “It’s not your fault.”

“We missed him,” Gideon mutters, “he was right there and we missed him.”

“And Spencer got hurt because of it.” Elle’s gaze is set on the hospital’s sign in counter.

Aaron understands their guilt. They caught the UnSub in the end, so nothing was ever in vain, but it doesn’t change the fact that they didn’t anticipate that he was at the end of the hallway waiting for the perfect moment to strike– and Spencer paid the price of their mistakes. The bullet hit him in the side where the vest didn’t cover, the damage reaching his liver and kidneys. Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever seen that much blood before.

“Excuse me–” a voice loud enough to cut through their brooding chimes from the reception desk. “Hi. Hello, I’m here for, um, Doctor Spencer Reid?”

The clerk glances at her for a brief moment before turning back to his computers. “We don’t have a Doctor by that name on staff.”

“Um, no–” a nervous laugh splits the air. “No, he’s– he’s not a doctor here. He’s a patient? I got a call.”

He looks at her up and down before raising an eyebrow, mumbling something. “Is that you?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s me, is he okay? I came as soon as I could.”

“He’s in surgery. He’ll be out in a few. Take a seat over there–” He gestures over to where Aaron and the others are sitting– “and the doctor will call you over.”

“Right. Right, okay, thank you.”

Elle doesn’t try hiding her confusion, looking up at you from her seat with raised brows. “You’re here for Reid?”

You jolt in surprise, the heavy grip you have on your bag loosening in an attempt to calm down. “Hi? Um, yeah. He’s– well, we’re on each other’s emergency contact list.”

“It’s good to see you again,” Aaron says with a tight grimace. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Derek’s jaw unhinges. “You knew?”

“Emergency contact list.” Aaron offers you a glance. “Are you okay?”

“I just–” your voice wobbles, a choked whimper leaving your lips. “I just want him to be okay.”

The team shares your sentiments. It’s not often when there’s an injury as serious as this on the field, but the risk is there. The room is tense with worry, the sound of doctors and nurses rushing around through the halls does nothing to ease their anxieties. You’re already fearing the worst.

What feels like hours is only minutes as a nurse arrives in front of your little group.

“Doctor Spencer Reid?” She confirms, looking sympathetic as ever. “The surgery was a success. The bullet grazed against his liver so he does need to stay for a couple of days for monitoring, but he should make a full recovery.”

“Is he allowed guests?” You blurt out hurriedly, the receipt in your hands crumbled in torn from incessant worrying.

“He’s should be waking up now, but you’re welcome to see him. I’ll take you there.” The nurse offers a gentle smile. “Girlfriend?”

Heat roars against your cheeks and you shake your head adamantly. “No, no, he’s– we’re not– he’s my roommate.”

The nurse hums, a knowing smile on her face. “I see.”

After a few quick goodbyes towards Aaron and the rest of the team, you hurry after the nurse whilst clutching your bag of goods. She opens the door wide, letting you inside before closing it behind you while you pull up a chair.

“I am– I am so mad at you, Spencer Walter Reid,” you whisper, gaze fixed on his resting face and the hair that mats his forehead. You brush a few strands away from his eyes, your lips trembling briefly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“So you’re not that mad?” Spencer croaks out, his voice dry and his head pounding as he manages to lift his eyes towards you.

“Spencer.” Your arms are around his neck in an instant, careful as not to disrupt the wires and tubes that surround him. “I’m going to kill you.”

“That’s counter intuitive.” He laughs quietly, wincing a little at the suddenness before allowing his free arm to wrap loosely around your waist. He finds it uneasy, the way your lips fall into a wobbly frown and how your eyes look red and puffy from crying. He’s only ever seen you look like this once before but that’s nothing compared to this. This time you look like that because of him– a silly little accident has lead to your pretty smile vanishing off your pretty face.

“You suck. I’m telling your mother.” He knows you won’t and he’s grateful that you’ve found it in yourself to make a joke. When you pull away, he immediately misses your warmth, watching as you rummage through your bag before handing him a sealed cup of red jell-o. “It was the last one they had.”

“You’re an angel, really, but I don’t think I’m allowed to eat for a couple hours,” he murmurs, his fingers grasping gingerly at the cup.

With a wordless nod in acknowledgement, you press a thick leather bound book into his hands, your eyes meeting his gaze. “Your favourite.”

He breathes out his thanks, glancing up at you through the dim lights of the hospital room. “Are you going to stay?”

“As long as you want, Walter.”

***

From the other side of the door, Derek glances through the window at you and Spencer before looking back at Hotch. “They’re roommates?”

“Apparently.”

“No, but– they’re just roommates?”

“Unfortunately.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

part 1 | part 2 | you are on part 3!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader angst #matthe gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader fluff #matthew gray gubler angst #matthew gray gubler x reader angst

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autisticmushroom · 2 months

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The Book of Bill Provides Evidence to Prove that Bill and Ford are Toxic Exes: An Essay

Before we get into anything, let me add. 1. This is an actual essay. 2. I hated billford at first, but I have become similar to the very thing I have sworn to destroy because of the Book of Bill. It contains a lot of billford subtext- and hell, if I can see it and *I don't* ship them, then it's gotta be there. 3. This will have both evidence for and counterpoints against each side, mirroring my thought process. 4. I will not be including evidence from Elsewhere (any interviews, Gravity Falls merch, Journal 3, the show itself). 5. If you know of anything that's not on here, feel free to reblog this post with added photos! You can also add evidence from Elsewhere if you feel like it lol. Oh, and spoilers under the cut for Gravity Falls and The Book of Bill. obviously.

Now that we've got that out of the way, let's get to The List! Strap yourselves in, folks, this is a long one. Evidence FOR Bill Cipher x Ford (with Counterpoints)

Image 1: Evidence for the ship: Yk the quote "My ex-wife still misses me… BUT HER AIM IS GETTING BETTER?!" So this implies that Bill is Ford's ex. Counterpoint: The Pines bros could've used that phrase before the ex-wife part was added.

Image 2: Evidence: The whole thing. Mabel refers to bill as a "super needy ex" who needs to "[get] over Grunkle Ford". She tells him to get "breakup bangs" and "go crush on someone else's uncle." Counterpoint: She loves matchmaking, and she has a whole page in the Gravity Falls coloring book about "Future Matchmaking Projects", the vast majority of them (read: all but Dipper x Pacifica, really) having no basis in the show. She's a 13 year old girl who could just be making a joke out of it because it's fun.

Images 3 & 4 Evidence: To have people fall in love with you, "leave real dead mice" (Bill's love advice) *Bill proceeds to leave dead rats spelling Ford's name.* As a birthday present, on Ford's birthday, that he surprisingly remembered. Counterpoint: Bill said to leave dead mice but left dead rats for Ford. Two different animals. Also, he could just be doing this to creep Ford out.

Image 5 Evidence: "And then one thing led to another." This leaves a lot to be implied... including gay shenanigans. Counterpoint: It could mean anything.

Image 6 (Ha! Sixer!) Evidence: "I know sixer loved our will they wont they destroy the world relationship". "One sixer please" "I ordered an 'I'm Fine Juice' " Like bro is obviously going through The Breakup. From what little I know about Homestuck, this also seems like a kismesis [romantic relationship built on hate, simply put?] relationship (Homestuck fans don't sue me!!) Counterpoint: This could just be him mad that Ford's not a willing pawn anymore.

Image 7 Evidence: Bill wanting Stanford to make him look pretty. Counterpoint: This could just be Bill being vain.

Image 8 Evidence: Bill actually trapped Stanford in a massive stone pyramid during Weirdmageddon and restrained him. And he was actually going to sing a song that got cut- "It's Gonna Get Weird." Counterpoint: We don't know if the Fearamid was made out of stone; and it's possible Bill didn't aim to seduce Ford in the Fearamid; just intimidate him.

Additionally: Evidence: Bill having the idea that love basically is the same thing as fear makes sense because he used fear to control Ford a lot. Counterpoint: Bill being mean could be just... that. simply put.

Image 9 Evidence: Dictionary.com defines "holic" basically as someone with an addiction/obsession. He was obsessed with Bill. Counterpoint: This could've been just platonic, or as admiration.

Image 10 Evidence: "This is what a partner looks like". Bill, referring to Ford. Counterpoint: Again, unclear as to whether he is being romantic or platonic.

Images 11 & 12 Evidence: This could absolutely be read as flirty. "Guys as smart as you come along once every other century." "I see you on the cover of the right magazine someday." "You can call me anything except late for dinner. (Bill)" "You can call me anything except late for dinner. (Ford, echoing Bill). "I think I'm starting to like you, Sixer." "I think I'm starting to like you, Bill." Counterpoint: Bill could just be saying this to impress Ford to get him to help. Unclear as to platonic or romantic.

Images 13 & 14 Evidence: Bill suggests telling the date a sob story, and then trap them in the love cage. Then he tells Ford this sad story about his dimension; and later traps him in what could be a love cage (see: Image 8) Counterpoint: The sob story should be about how "*you're* tragic and misunderstood, no one can possibly relate to you." This isn't about Bill being tragic as a whole, this is about one terrible event. --- So far, we have mainly evidence for Bill Cipher and Ford being a couple, with some rebuttals. Now, it's time for evidence against them being a couple, with some rebuttals. Evidence AGAINST Bill Cipher x Ford (with Counterpoints)

Image 1: Evidence: This could imply Ford is aroace. Or at the very least, Bill, being Chaotic Evil (D&D alignment) isn't Ford's type. Counterpoint: You can fall for someone that's not your type. And that's what he *usually* writes- what does he write the other times? And what you do in a dream doesn't always reflect what you do in real life.

Image 2: Evidence: Bill doesn't pass the Harkness Test. (For those unaware, it's a test to see if you can have sex with a creature without it being immoral (bestiality/p*dophilia). He has at least human intelligence and can communicate with language (considering he wrote a book), but he is not of sexual maturity, as he's a preteen. Counterpoint: Preteen =/= not sexually mature applies to humans, but we have no idea if that would be correct for a triangle. It only makes sense to assume he is sexually mature. Dogs only live 10-13 years (source: American Kennel Club), and so they have babies when they're preteens or younger.

Image 3: Evidence: Bill states he has no exes. Counterpoint: We both know he's lying. Look at the list of crossed out names- most likely exes.

Image 4: Evidence: Bill says he couldn't care less about love. Counterpoint: For the second and third questions, he's dodging the answer. That's not a direct no, it's just him attacking the reader. And for the first, he could be lying.

Image 5: Evidence: Bill wrote this book, and we know Bill isn't to be trusted. How can we be sure any of what Bill says is true? How can we be sure that what Bill says is "Missing Journal Pages written by Ford" is 100% accurate, and not just- made up or altered by Bill? Bill literally says "Truth is open-source code and anyone can edit it" Counterpoint: Why would Alex Hirsch do that to the fan base though? --- Conclusion The amount of Bill x Ford evidence outweighs the evidence against it. Despite the fact that much of the evidence *for* Bill x Ford is ambiguous and can be read as romantic or platonic, or just Bill intimidating Ford, it only makes sense to conclude that it is romantic because of the sheer amount of it. This has turned me; previously somewhat of a Bill x Ford hater, to believing that Bill x Ford was an important part of Ford's story.

However, if you've read all of this and still hate the idea of Bill x Ford, that's perfectly valid! You can choose to read the evidence as purely platonic & later, Bill intimidating Ford, or Bill just twisting the truth- either aligns with canon. --- Disclaimer:

I am not saying you have to believe in Bill x Ford. I am not saying they had a good relationship either, or idealizing it. It was definitely toxic and manipulative and abusive. Ford is likely still healing from that abuse. I believe Ford and Bill both pass the Harkness Test. I am not shipping Bill with anyone besides Ford. Yes, I know this is basic, but I don't want ppl yelling at me for small things. Better yet; if you disagree with anything in the disclaimer- tell me *why* in the comments, civilly. --- Final Thoughts

If you've made it here, thank you so much for reading! This is my first essay of this length posted on Tumblr! I stayed up till like 1am to write this.

And I encourage you to repost/comment instead of just liking it, if you choose to engage. This helps better spread the post around. Thank you!

#in this essay i will #but it’s actually an essay #ford pines #stanford pines #gravity falls stanford #gay #bill cipher #the book of bill #the book of bill spoilers #billford #star speaks #essay #gravity falls #Ford x bill #bill cipher x ford #ford x bill cipher #Stanford x bill cipher

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rottiens · 2 months

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PREY┊RYOMEN SUKUNA

tags. (18+). read part one here (optional), fem reader (she/her), mutual pinning, childhood friends to lovers, modern au, primal play, marking (biting), unprotected sex, he cums inside, breeding kink, lowkey exhibitionism, praising, pet names (bunny, puppy, sweet girl, good girl), spit as lubricant, clit slapping, aftercare. — wc: 2.8K

In the darkness of the forest any sound in the distance is heard as Sukuna. Your mind plays tricks on you and turns the sound of your breathing into footsteps and the distant bustle of people into voices.

Out of the corner of your eye you think you see a shadow moving around. Without leaving your hiding place you cling to the trunk of the gigantic tree and peek around the sides to check that no one is really there.

You swallow saliva to eliminate the dryness that fear has caused but you find your mouth dry and your throat uncomfortably tight and, when you pay attention to your back, you realize that the world is silent for a brief moment to allow you to hear a branch breaking under the weight of a predator.

Sukuna is nearby, he was running or walking behind you and was going to catch you if it weren't for the dry leaves that give him away. You flee from your hiding place like a slippery rabbit, being careless in your steps and alerting your pursuer to where you are headed, you run in a straight line, hitting branches and small bushes that cross your path. You no longer cared about being discreet, he is close and you need to put distance between you as fast as you can.

As you move deeper into the large trees their canopies cover the sky more and more. You realize you are so far away from the city that you barely hear the festival which makes you feel uneasy and fearful.

You could give up and let him win, yet there is an insistence inside you that pinches you to keep running regardless of the discomfort of your non-running shoes.

"Do you want to keep running, little bunny?" you suddenly hear from behind a tree, you look in all directions in the gloom and your eyesight tires as you try to search for a body in the dim presence of light.

Sukuna could be anywhere.

"I can smell you, you know?" his deep voice is an echo in the abyss of darkness. So you cling to the tree, your nails digging into the wood trying to hold on to something tangible to help you stay in the present, to pay attention to your senses and focus. Though you didn't understand what he meant by what he had said. "I can smell you..." he repeats, closer this time and it's as if you feel his presence above you like a suffocating thick aura, you're frozen in that moment. "Your fear, your excitement. I'm going to find you and it's okay, you can admit you want me to catch you, I know you're anxious to know what will happen when I do..."

It was only a matter of time before he caught up with you, you knew it, you hear his voice closer and closer so your survival instincts lead you to the last logical reason for that moment: you have to climb the tree.

"Why don't you be a good girl and come out? You're making it so easy for me."

You hear his words before you can feel him, blowing hot air on the back of your neck as his claws drag you away from the tree pulling at your waist. You scream trying to struggle against him but any tantrum you can muster becomes insignificant in his presence, his stronger arms cover yours and your kicking feet are suspended in the air and in one sudden movement you both fall to the ground.

Your body kisses the earth with little delicacy in a rumble, you don't feel the sting of the stones from the amount of adrenaline coursing through your blood as Sukuna continues to sink his weight on you. There are branches and leaves in your hair and caught in your clothes (now dirty with mud), after a while of struggling in vain you convince yourself that he really has you. Just like when you were children, just like when you struggled until you had no strength and Sukuna only teased you... he re-enacts the scene.

Your hands are trapped painfully on your lower back as he pulls his body closer to you, his face lowered to your neck, his voice hoarse and broken from the chase mixed with adrenaline.

"Gotcha," he teases.

You swallow your pride and drop your face to the ground to rest, your cheek sinking thanks to the tiny stones and at the same time you are grateful for the coolness they bring which manages to soothe your burning a little.

"What do you want?" You were referring to his prize.

Sukuna's throat makes a sound you can only categorize as a growl. He almost sounds like an animal, while you close your eyes and enjoy the sting of his grip on your wrists.

Sukuna struggles to be sincere or hold back, alternately squeezing and releasing your hands to release pressure, he swallows before responding.

"I want to mark you. That's my prize."

"Mark me?" You repeat the words, confused. Choosing to ignore what his words really denote.

You are aware that this is not what you would do with any of your friends. By this point you would have stood up, you would have shaken the leaves out of your pants and laughed at the scream you gave when he caught you however this was not what you wanted, you needed to know what his limit was, what yours was.

"I want to bite you. Mark my teeth into your skin, I want people to ask you about it and tell them what a sore loser you are."

Sukuna snorts hotly at your neck, a puff of air exhaling self-control (which hangs by a thread). You force yourself not to thrust your hips into him and instead you give him your throat like the good loser you are. You tilt your neck sideways, showing him the soft skin to mark.

"Tell me if I'm being too rough," Sukuna manages to mumble, before closing his eyes and sinking his teeth into the area in the middle of your shoulder and neck without wasting any time.

You groan involuntarily at the sensation, he pushes his hips hard against you dragging your body a little under his weight. It's the first time you realize he is enjoying this as much as you are.

It's at that point you wish you had your hands free to pull on his pink strands and push him into you.

"Harder," you ask as you realize he wasn't biting you, his mouth was hovering above your skin, showing you only the feel of his teeth.

You swear you can hear him curse with the next growl that vibrates his vocal cords and without wasting any time he digs his teeth into you until it hurts, you gasp, being absolutely certain that it would leave a mark that would remain on your skin for about two, three more days.

The area that has been bitten burns, you feel it throbbing under the tender kisses he gives your injured skin and it is as if he is trying to make it feel better.

Your pants become uncomfortable, as does the posture of your hands which begin to feel ants scurrying around them and uncomfortable as your sticky panties sink annoyingly into your slit with every involuntary movement of your thighs or hips.

His lips are soft with each new kiss, carrying butterflies in your stomach and a little lower each time you feel the piercing in his lip tingle on your skin. Sukuna occasionally uses his tongue in swirls until the burning sensation is less intense than the flares that seem to burn your skin.

Sukuna pushes against you again, his erection restrained against the tight jeans feels annoying. I'd like to rip them into a thousand pieces, I'd like to rip your shirt into a thousand pieces, is all he thinks about— marking your collarbones and following the stroke across your breasts and tender nipples.

Your bodies begin to rock against each other, at first it could be interpreted as him fixing the grip of your wrists on your back but soon the friction doesn't feel so innocent. Sukuna is increasingly rubbing harder and harder, a little more needy while you on the other hand find yourself playing along by raising your hips in search of feeling something more.

However the pleasure is static, Sukuna realizes this will go nowhere when his cock starts to ache and frustration makes him moan.

"I need to take you," Sukuna speaks, finally breaking the silence.

"Do it." You reply almost immediately in a raspy voice, choking on another inhale.

He seems to regain that confident, assured personality you seemed to have forgotten, very caught up in the moment. Sukuna chuckles.

"Here? In the forest? Are you sure?"

No, you weren't. You were in the middle of nowhere, darkness surrounding you from every corner not knowing who might be lurking from afar but if he didn't touch you you were sure you were going to explode and his heat, the hardness of his body pressing against yours, his defined abdomen sweaty, sticking to your back and the hardness of his cock in your ass were all that mattered now.

"Yes," you say dryly, catching a moan between your teeth and lower lip.

"Ask me."

"Take me. Fuck me, I— I couldn't be more sure."

Sukuna doesn't make you beg anymore. He just needed to hear you be sure you wanted this as much as he did.

Then he lets go of your hands finally which take a moment to realize they are free and that there is blood running in them again to bring them to each side of your trembling body. His languid fingers are on the button of your pants pulling it halfway down along with your panties and almost immediately you feel his fingers plunge into the wetness of your pussy.

You both moan in unison. Three of his fingers explore the expanse of your folds up and down as you raise your hips to give him more access to your core and your face gets a little more lost inside the stones that now feel almost non-existent, any pain is overtaken by pleasure.

His rough fingers stumble over your clit and play with it for a while, back and forth and up and down with a flat hand until your arousal spills down your thighs and makes a mess that manages to be heard like a wet echo in the abyss of silence.

"Can you hear that?" Sukuna asks lewdly, more to himself really. With his free hand he spreads your ass cheek apart to get a better view of the poor sight the moon was giving him of your pussy. "Hm?" He again insists and not content with the amount of lubrication naturally produced by your body, he spits directly into your pussy taking you by surprise. "I'm going to put them inside..." he warns you, almost without giving you time to process his words, two fingers find themselves forcing their way inside you, scissoring inside your tight hole until you feel it relax enough to take a third. "Fuck. You're so tight."

You wanted to reproach him that it was because his fingers were too thick and maybe it was because he was fucking you with three of them but the words were cut into little pieces as you felt your orgasm hit you without warning.

Your body jerks under his expert touch as his fingers continue to massage you through the waves of pleasure and his free hand pampers your back up and down.

You moan as you feel his fingers leave you, your painfully empty and sensitive pussy waits patiently as Sukuna undoes his belt and jeans down to his thighs. You hear him unzip and fix his posture behind your back. You were ready, waiting with your heart beating fast for him when he takes your hand and pulls it behind you in his direction, you stutter his name.

"Put it in." Sukuna commands. You say his name again, each syllable melting in your parched throat. Each time you call his name it seems as if a stream of pleasure hits your clit. Your fingers curl around the shaft and immediately you feel it throbbing. At that moment you hate being in the dark because you want to see him, to see his expression, to see his cock slowly slide into you and stretch you. "Put my cock in, sweet girl. There you go," he praises you sweetly, a contrast to the person he was a couple of minutes ago.

The fat head stretches your hole tentatively as Sukuna spits a second time. With another thrust from you and with the help of your hips moving back he slides easily and slowly into you, allowing you to appreciate every inch until Sukuna bottoms out and you let him go to fix your posture on the bed of rocks and leave him while he begins to pound you.

His hips are heavy every time he thrusts inside you, pounding your ass intensely as his fingers aimlessly snake up your thighs until he reaches your plump and sensitive clit, Sukuna nips it between his knuckles then slaps it a couple of times laughing when he hears you moan and finally stimulating it in circles.

Sukuna crawls along the length of your back to press his body to yours, his mouth is on top of his bite where he leaves a kiss before murmuring in your ear, "Can I cum inside?" your body responds physically, your swollen nipples inside your t-shirt ache, your pussy squeezes around his heavy dick. "Are you going to let me mark this pussy too? As part of my prize, hm?" You stammer an intelligible reply to what he grumpily responds by patting your tender clit to get your attention. "Focus. You want my cum in your pussy? You want me to breed you? But you have to be a good girl and take every last drop... It's a yes or no question, puppy. Use your words."

"Yes, please! Yes."

How could you tell him that was all you could think about? That it was all you could think about since you realized you were in love with him? Even though you didn't have to say it now, Sukuna knew. So your few words were enough to make him understand that you needed this as much as he did. So within a few more thrusts you feel him jerking inside you, choking his grunts into your neck as he massages your clit helping you climax soon after.

Breathless and gasping for air, his cum sliding out of you, he lets himself fall beside you though he regrets it when the stones hurt his back and he whimpers, you laugh and he helps you closer to him, squeezing you to his body as if he never wants to let go.

As you breathe in silence his heart stops being a violent drum to return to a quiet melody, similar to yours which unlike him is still somewhat unrestrained thanks to his gentle touch on your forearm and back and sudden kisses on your hairline that carry tickles all over your back.

With the sky above your heads showing you a million stars that look like polka dots, with the cool breeze biting your skin, making you shiver every now and then against his body— your eyelids start to give way from his constant pampering.

"I like you," Sukuna admits, interrupting the silence, his confession laden with raw sincerity, and though his words come with his trademark calmness and assurance, his heartbeat says something different. "This... it wasn't just about fucking you," he adds.

"I like you too. I thought it was obvious," you confess a little sheepishly. Ironic, after the events that recently transpired. Although it was always harder to bare your soul than to bare your body.

"I mean, it was but I was also afraid I was imagining things," with a low chuckle, sukuna pulls you closer to his body.

You lean in to look at him, for a moment he purposely ignores you until he decides to return your gaze and silently cup your cheeks. His fingers push your skin until your lips stand out in an exaggerated pout and he moves in to leave a quick kiss which you catch and deepen, tasting his lips for the first time, melting at the sensations of having him suck and bite your bottom lip.

"Do you want to go back to the festival?" Sukuna asks, in a somewhat sleepy voice.

"Let's go back to my place."

#wr #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryoumen smut #cw primal play #cw marking #cw breeding #cw exhibitionism

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mariclerc · 2 months

Note

What about Charles dreaming about the reader cheating on him? And him being all clingy about it

Thank you so much for this request, I found it so interesting and funny. I hope you like thisss 😋😋

A driver nightmare | cl16

Summary: when Charles dreams about you and it's not usually something pleasant for the both of you. Warnings: fluff, slightly possessive Charles and a little bit of angst.

You and Charles have been dating for a couple of years, and although people sometimes say that it is suffocating to date someone for such a long time, for the two of you it is not like that since you always find something new about each other and end up falling in love over and over again. And it's a nice thing because there are quite strong feelings between the two of you.

But lately Charles has been a bit scattered, so to speak, and you have no idea why is that behavior coming...

So, one night Charles lies asleep next to you, your breathing is even and deep.

“Another night, another nightmare, great...” Charles says as he sighs softly.

He stirs in his sleep, his brow furrowed... The dream is vivid and so painful. You are there, his love, his world, his whole life, is with another man... The laughter, intimacy - things that should be reserved only for the two of you, are being shared with someone else. A cold sweat breaks out on his forehead.

He jolts awake, heart pounding. His eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of disturbance. He finds you there sleeping peacefully, with a serene and angelic face; relief washes over him, but the lingering dread from the dream is a heavy weight on his chest.

Lately he's had a couple of nightmares about you with someone else, and no matter how much he tries to get answers about it, it's all in vain since it's just a nightmare, that's just it... The thing is, to him, everything feels so real and vivid that he actually swears you're not by his side at the moment.

He whispers. “Oh no... It's getting worse.”

He lies there, staring at the ceiling, trying to shake off the nightmare, his mind races over and over. He knows it's irrational because you would never do this to him. But the images are so real that it hurts him a lot.

***

Morning comes, a sliver of light peeking through the curtains. You stir in bed, stretch, and smile softly at him.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” you smiled at his sleeping form. Your voice is soft and melodic, the sunlight catches your eyes, making them sparkle.

“Morning darling.” he says, his voice is rough with sleep, but he forces a smile for you.

You sigh a little bit. “You seem so tired cha. Another nightmare?” you reached out to stroke his hair.

He nodded. “Just a bit baby, but it's nothing to worry about.”

He pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair, the scent of your shampoo is comforting. For a moment, the fear and anxiety fades away.

“You know you can talk to me, right? About anything, okay?” you say softly at him.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” he sighs. “It's just... It's a little complicated.”

He squeezes your hand, trying to reassure himself as much as you.

***

The days pass and Charles continues to be plagued by nightmares at night time. He becomes increasingly withdrawn, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by a shadow of doubt.

“I’m losing my mind.” he whispered softly while grabbing his hair.

So one afternoon, as you two cuddle on the couch, you can notice the change in him.

“Charles, I know something's wrong. You’ve been distant.” You say in a whisper as you stroke his hair. “And I don't know if I've done anything wrong.”

Charles freezes, his heart pounding... You doing something bad? That is impossible for him, but he can't help but feel guilty.

“You doing something bad? Honey, that's impossible! Everything's fine, love... Just a bit stressed with work, that's all.” he says softly.

You looked at him, your eyes filled with concern for him. “You can't lie to me, Charles. I know you better than that, I know something's bothering you.” you say with a soft voice.

***

A couple of days later, the sunlight streams through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the room. The soft clinking of utensils can be heard as you move gracefully around the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

Charles enters, his hair ruffled from sleep, for you he looks so good, and he yawns widely. He stretches, his eyes still half-closed, and then pads over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“Good morning, beautiful! What are you making that smells so so good?” he says while kissing your cheek.

You smile, leaning back into his warm embrace. “Morning, sleepyhead. I'm just making pancakes! Nothing serious.” you giggled.

Charles tightens his grip, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You're the best chérie.”

He nuzzles your neck, his breath tickling your skin. You giggled, turning around to face him.

“Stop it silly, you’re going to make me spill the batter!”

Charles grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I like watching you cook. You look so... domestic and cute.” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes playfully. ”Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

He shrugs. “I guess so silly bean.”

He pulls you into a tight hug, his possessiveness momentarily surfacing.

“You’re mine, you know?”

You laugh softly, your heart melting at his affection. “I know my love, I know.”

Charles kisses your forehead, a tender gesture that speaks volumes.

Later that day, you and Charles are curled up on the couch, a comfortable silence between the two of you.

Suddenly Charles let out a long sigh. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You looked at him, your expression concerned. “What’s wrong, baby love?” you asked him.

Charles takes a deep breath.

“Well... I've been having these… nightmares... About you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Nightmares? About me?” you asked again and he nodded.

“Yeah... And it's something stupid, I know. But they’ve been getting worse because I see you with someone else. And it’s... it’s horrible, it feels horrible.” he finally confesses and he looks down, his voice barely a whisper.

“Oh, Charlie...” you reached out to take his hand. “It’s just a dream, baby. It doesn’t mean anything! Look, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, okay?”

Charles looks up, searching your eyes for reassurance.

“I know, I know... But it’s been making me so crazy. I’m so sorry if I’ve been acting weird this couple of weeks.” he whispered and you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around him.

“Baby... You’re not acting weird, you’re just scared. And that’s okay! I’m here for you, always, okay?” you say while caressing his back.

Charles nods, relief washing over him.

He sighed and smiled at you. “I love you amour.”

“I love you too, more than words can say.”

#formula one x reader #charles leclerc x yn #f1 x you #charles x you #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles x reader #charles leclerc #charles x shy reader #mariclerc fics #charles leclerc blurb

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angel-eyes05 · 1 year

Text

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count: 4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late.

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end.

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #spider-woman reader #across the spiderverse #fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #spiderman #spider man #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse

5K notes · View notes

prismdewdrop · 2 months

Text

dangerous territory

Summary: jason todd may be exhausted after a long night of vigilance, but if you've stayed up late just to talk to him, he's going to make sure he knows exactly why.

or: jason and reader are both idiots and should probably just kiss, but they're idiots, so they do... whatever this is instead.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: mention of jason's death, mention of dead animals (in reference to the plot of john wick)

Tags: roommates in love, late-night conversations, mutual pining, jason is a little bit of an asshole (affectionate), he's not beating the little shit allegations, jason todd loves reader and is soo not normal about it, pov jason todd, everyone is 18+

A/N: long-time jason todd lover, first-time fic writer!

this work was inspired by @notnotacowpoke 's roommatesverse with jason, and they've been absolutely amazing with betaing and just going insane with me over this. you can read their work on ao3 :))

please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or in the tags! thanks for reading <3

edit (a big thank you): omg thank you so much for the response, everyone! i genuinely can't believe my first fic on a sideblog got so much of a reaction, and I'm so, SO grateful. my inbox is open for your thoughts or requests for jason and his roommate reader! i'd love to say hi and explore this au some more!

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"Jay?"

The sleep-soft call melts the night and the pain away.

Halting his lonely trek to his room, Jason Todd turns towards your voice. A fresh bruise catches at the quickness of his movement, but he tucks away the wince into the back of his throat.

You're standing at your door, peering into the dark in his direction.

"Yeah, babe?"

A low hiss makes it out of his throat as the endearment falls from his mouth. He waits to see if you caught it. You sounded exhausted, drowsy with much-needed sleep, and even in your apartment, the city was never quiet. Whether you heard it or not, though, you don't acknowledge it, waiting to hear a confirmation from him.

His heart aches for a split second, recognizing the fatigue in your voice, like the second skin he wears every day, accompanied by the tinge of fear that keeps him alive – and keeps you waiting to hear for sure if it's him.

"It's me. What's up?" he says again, louder this time.

You open the door wider, stepping more clearly into his view, just a little past the doorway. One side of your face and body is splashed in the ever-glistening lights of the city that leaks into your apartment in a haze of light gray.

The patch of light helps, and so does his helmet's night vision.

He can see you now, and like always, a breath catches in his throat–even rumpled with sleep, you look lovely and soft.

To you, he knows that he's just a larger patch of darkness against the dimness of your shared living room.

"You're back earlier than I thought you would be," you say finally.

He can see the concern flit over your face as you do your best to scan him in the darkness, checking in vain for any obvious wounds or hurts. He watches as your concern deepens when you're unable to make out anything in the dark, still reluctant to ask him to step into the light

"Slow night," he shrugs.

He steps closer to you, not fully into the light but close enough that you can make out more of his form. He sees the relief wash over your face and your shoulders loosen a little as you clock his unaffected stride and note the lack of any visible wounds. He doesn't mention his new bruise. And he won’t, at least not until you tell him what it is that has kept you up so late.

"I – well, I was waiting for you to come back..."

A pause.

You pull your lip between your teeth, eyes darting over his face, shoulders climbing towards your ears with tension. He can practically see your mind whirring, and he can see the exact moment you decide against finishing your sentence. Your eyes drop, and your shoulders with them.

A sigh.

Then: a small smile.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Which... you are. Clearly. I think. At least, you look—"

You stop yourself, realising that you were babbling. With a pasted-on sheepish smile and an awkwardly cheery wave, you turn towards the door.

"Well! You must be tired, get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow morning!"

The forced cheer cuts through your fatigue for only a few seconds as you rush the words out and turn towards your room, and he sees the corners of your mouth dipping down the moment you think he can't see your face. You're not a bad liar, by any means. It just so happens that most of the time you're together, you're the only thing Jason sees.

"No."

"What?"

Confusion contorts your face as it snaps to look at him again. Your eyebrows knit together, lips pursing and pushing out into a pout. It's cute, and he's quite sure you have no idea you do this.

"I'm going to camp right out here," he gestures at the (incredibly uncomfortable) couch as he looks straight at you, challenge evident in his voice and in the set of his squared shoulders – "And I am not resting until you tell me what you need."

You frown, lips pressed together into a tight line. You're weighing his response, trying to piece together just how serious he is. Jason reaches up to unclasp his helmet, lifting it off and letting you see that there's very little humor in his eyes – just enough to soften you into spitting out what you really wanted to say — but not enough to let this go.

That's enough for you, though, even in the limited light. Only three months of cohabitation and somehow the both of you could read each other just as well as the stacks of books that crowded the apartment – well worn, annotated, so many of them in various states of disarray, torn and stained and bent, nearly all with cracked spines, but still so so beloved.

He can read you a little better, though, what with his years of vigilance and, well. Everything else that followed.

Jason knows you – the same way he knows the locations of all of Bruce's safe houses, or the exact number of times he could call Tim 'the replacement' before something heavy would be launched at his head. That is to say, concerningly well.

There wasn't a twitch of your eyebrow or a blush or a glare or an angry press of your lips against each other, or a quirk of them (he may have studied your lips especially well) that he hadn't committed to memory, that he didn't know by heart. He wonders if you know, and he wonders what you'd think if you did.

Another sigh, your shoulders sag further, and he makes a mental note to take you through some exercises to improve your truly terrible posture.

"Jason, it's really nothing that can't wait till morning, I just –"

"Come on, dude," He scoffs, not unkindly. "I know you wouldn't have stayed up so late if it wasn't important enough to keep you up."

He nods at the dregs of coffee in the mug you'd forgotten on the centre table for emphasis. There's no hiding from the world's third (or maybe fourth?) best detective that it's the special, strong type that you usually reserve for the most daunting of deadlines.

You swallow up the rest of your words and let out a huff. This time, it's more frustrated than tired, and he can see the flash of irritation in your eyes. You glance away from him, arms coming up to clasp your elbows, encircling yourself in a loose hug. Discomfort radiates off of you in waves, and as you sink your teeth into your lips again; he notes the steady rise of your shoulders towards your ears.

A flash of annoyance goes through him. Not at you — never at you — but whatever new inconvenience this city has wrought for you. Whatever it is that has you up and walking around at 3 AM in the morning after a draining day of work and study and worrying about him.

He fights the urge to step closer, to wrap his hands around your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin and loosening the tightness in them. It would be so easy — there's barely four feet between the two of you, in a few steps he could be holding you and —

He stops himself from following that particular train of thought.

Red Hood faces open gunfire head-on almost daily. Sometimes, he even takes an explosion or two to the face. Then there was the time he'd died, followed by all the times he'd almost died. And he still couldn't remember the last time he'd felt true, bone-deep fear.

But this, this was dangerous territory he was terrified of treading. Yet he was unable to deny the existence of the temptation, always tugging on something in his chest like a low undercurrent, occasionally crashing over him in a wave of desire to touch and protect and hold. To slip his fingers through yours, through your hair, over your lips, between them.

He wonders if you know how easily he can read you, see the way your mind is running through excuses and half-truths to throw him off right now, extricate yourself from this uncomfortable situation and put a safe distance between you again. He should let you do it, really. Even you know that this territory is... not for you. Which is why you were now teetering at its edge after taking these few hesitant steps towards it – him.

But still. He can't ignore the tug. He can deny the waves, stop himself with a savage jerk on his mental reins. That low undercurrent, however – he nurses it, lets it guide him. He has to. It hasn't been long since you met, but he already doesn't know what he would do without it guiding him back to you, day after night after day, painful blow after near-death encounter.

And so he narrows his eyes at you, ready to counter anything you say that isn't the truth.

He feels like a dick; he really does – dangling his well-being in front of you to get you to just stand up and say it. He does this sometimes, pushing you and inconveniencing you – borderline bullying you into being honest with him.

But he knows he's right to be doing this. You have enough fire in you to push back when need be, when he crosses a line, and knowing you, you would've stormed back into your room without a backward glance and with a slam of your door, if whatever this was wasn't bothering you so much.

"I..." You paused to glare at him, just to show him that even if you were playing along, you did not appreciate playing his games.

Jason hides his smile and just raises his eyebrows.

Hands clenching into fists, you glare up at the ceiling as you wrestle with your words, as if hoping for divine intervention.

Another sigh, this time an admit of defeat.

"Fine – but I'm warning you – it's stupid –"

"With you, roomie, I doubt it is."

"Jason, can you please stop interrupting me? I'm really trying here."

Jason raises his palms in a silent apology, an acknowledgement of his dickish behavior, saving the real sorries for later.

You nod in acceptance.

"Okay." Deep breath. "I just wanted to... show you something. And spend some time with you. You know, because we haven't been able to catch up lately and I –" You stop, voice strangling around the next words, catching yourself. You take a breath before continuing. "And I could really use your... insights."

Your voice trails off, and he can feel you wince internally as you slip into impersonal corporate speak, an effort to avoid any words that were more intimate than they had the right to be.

Jason knows. Or at least he can make a damn good guess as to what the words you'd struggled to choke off were. He knew, sure as hell, it wasn't ‘insights ’, but acknowledging the unsaid words was very much stepping into the dangerous territory. And like you had when he slipped up and called you babe, he doesn't.

If he felt anything less than what he did feel, he would have joked about it, said something like: "Aww, bestie, I miss you too". Then you would laugh and shake your head and you would slip back into the easy camaraderie that had marked the beginning of your relationship – before Jason had started noticing the precise way in which the hearts that you signed your notes off with varied in size and number depending on the mood you were in, or the way your hand reached for his every time you crossed a road together.

So instead, he says nothing. He just waits.

"I'll be in my room," you say, arms wrapping around yourself again, a blush rising steadily up your neck and onto your cheeks. You nod at his gear. "Whenever you're ready, just come in. I'll be up."

Oh. They were to be alone. In your room. Probably on the bed. No, definitely on the bed. There's no space for a desk or chair in rooms that come with apartments in this part of Gotham, especially the ones affordable for students. No, there's only one place they can sit comfortably together.

Not that they haven't sat on your bed – or his bed – together before. They have, countless times. They've cuddled and huddled, most times with a pile of snacks for company.

On the days they'd given up on any possibility of productivity, they'd marathoned all their comfort movies and franchises before falling asleep, arms around each other, legs tangled, and depending on who'd had the worst week, a head tucked under another's chin, lead gently into slumber by the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat.

They'd binged Lord of the Rings (NOT The Hobbit series; you both agreed that that was a waste of time, though Jason had stronger, angrier feelings towards it than you did), almost all the Austen adaptations (you could never decide which Emma you liked better – the one with Anya Taylor Joy had the beautiful production and a great depiction of the relationship between Emma and Harriet, but the one with Gwyneth Paltrow had a certain charm, and the leads good chemistry); John Wick that one time – he'd adored the way you'd poked him and asked him if he could do/had done some of the particularly impressive stunts (he could, and you'd been thoroughly impressed); Fast and Furious – only till the sixth one though – Jason personally thought Fast Five was where they should have ended their binge, but you were partial to the sixth one (because of the romance, you said), and Jason had grudgingly accepted it's merits.

That was, what, at least 40 hours of just watching movies? And that didn't even include the time they'd spend just hanging out together, reading silently, or watching something on their own (though one of them would inevitably end up joining the other).

No, he's definitely been in your bed, comfortable with the tugging undercurrents of longing in every laugh you shared, the way you'd sniffled unfailingly at the last march of the Ents, and when his eyes watered at the ride of the Rohirrim, the way you'd both sighed at Darcy's confession, and when you'd turned to Jason as you watched John Wick lay waste to New York's criminal underworld in revenge for his dead dog, and ask:

"You'd do this for me, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, good. I'd maybe hire someone to do this for you, since you know. I can't kill a man with my bare hands."

You could kill a man with your smile, though, Jason remembered thinking. You killed him a little every day and brought him back just as well, each time just a little bit more whole than the last time he'd been brought back to life.

Sure, he'd been in your bed. But not like this, not when the darkness of the night had melted that thing in his chest – the thing that searched for you the moment he woke up – and brought it out from where it was safe in its cage, to the back of his mouth, the tips of his fingers, the pupils of eyes – poised right on the edge of saying, doing, showing the wrong thing.

Say no, the admittedly miniscule part of his brain that didn't leap to fulfill your every wish insisted. They've given you an out already. Just say you're more tired than you look and talk tomorrow. This isn't just treading - this is running blind and unarmed into dangerous territory. Say no.

But... they miss me, the overwhelmingly persuasive part of him that ached to sweep that particularly unrepentant loose curl into place every day reminds him. They're up and they're worried and they want me to come talk to them because they miss me. I miss them.

His heart twists. He can't say no, never could.

Jason wonders if you know that he would walk into a shootout blindfolded, without armor and with a grin, if that could bring you anything worthwhile. He turns a fond smile your way, his careful expression melting away.

Your breath catches as the corners of his mouth lift. When Jason smiles like that, his eyes crinkle, they shine at you as if you're all he sees, and it was heartachingly beautiful in it's rarity.

Jason's smile was a golden patch of sun on a cold day; you're powerless in its wake to do anything except curl up in its warmth and bask – always longing for more and more.

"You know I wouldn't say no to that. I'll be right there,” he says with all the seriousness of a wedding vow.

You fight the urge to linger, to drink in his smile with your eyes and infuse every inch of your body with it's sweetness. You force a small smile of your own and with a wiggle of your fingers, you return to your room, feeling his gaze settle on you until you close the door behind you gently.

He doesn't hear the click of the lock, and so when he heaves his own sigh of defeat, it's in the safety of his own room, between him and the busy silence of the city.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #dc imagine #dc #batman #red hood #jason todd #batfamily #dc comics

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Text

MW2 Reaction to You Asking Them to be Gentle

Warnings: 18+ (Just To Be Safe), Non-Graphic Depictions of Smut, Implied Consensual Dub-Con, Dominant MW2, Jealous MW2, Slut-Shaming, Strap-On, Shock Collar, Implied Infidelity (Nobody’s Actually Cheated, it’s Just for The Bit), Age Gap (Price), Restraints, Slight Implied Dumbification, Implied Threesome, Petnames, Profanity No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Aw, am I hurtin’ you, Love ?” he asks, ceasing his pace for just a moment. His body is hot and thick behind you, a wall, a barrier.

When you nod, your eyes glistening with budding tears and your hands gripping the bed sheets, Simon places a hand upon your cheek. Gentle. His thumb strokes your chin, and his eyes are kind.

Until they aren’t.

They sharpen in an instant, and, without warning, he pulls back, inch by inch, and slams back in. You yelp, winded, wincing at the pain revitalising in your lower half. But he doesn’t let you flee, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to take all of him.

“Should’ve thought about that before practically sitting on Johnny’s cock, you little fuckin’ whore,”

It doesn’t matter how many times you try to tell him that Soap had pulled you into his lap as a joke – a gesture of friendship, not a phallic item or intention in sight – Ghost isn’t having any of it.

“You won’t even be able to sit down without thinkin’ of me,” he says. His eyes dark, he growls, pulling back for the killing finish. “Or I’ll just have to put the fear of God into you again,” And he slams in, harsh, unflinching, sharp. And you scream, your vision turning white as you reach your end.

König

“I know, Engel,” he says, breathless. His eyes are piercing, fire and ice. And a thin, cruel smile stretches across his face.

Before you can react, even hope to retaliate, he takes your wrists beneath his hands and pins them above your head. You writhe and you struggle, only to be met with a low moan from König.

“Don’t tempt me, Darling,” he says. “Or I won’t be able to control myself when I snap,”

You can tell by his tone that he’s not letting you off easily. Not after your ‘flirtatious’ conversation with the barista from your excursion into town earlier.

When you feel tears prick your throat, König shushes you.

“Oh, shh, Engel, it’s too late for tears now.” You swear you see his eye twitch. His body bears down on yours, scorching and heavy and impossible to fight.

He lowers his head beside your ear, and, sibilant, licks the shell.

“Besides,” he whispers. He grinds into you. Slowly. Warning.

“You wouldn’t want to encourage me now, would you ?”

Soap

“Oh no, Bonnie; the time for kindness and compassion is over,” Johnny said as he tightened his belt around your wrists, pulling it so escape was a distant dream for you. He had you caged beneath him, a smile curved with a certain brand of unscrupulousness only he could wear at his lips.

“After all, what did you say to Simon again ? That I’m ‘gentle as anything’ ?” The second you’d said it, no matter how innocent your intent, you knew you shouldn’t have. If Simon’s gaze flickering to your boyfriend, who loomed just over your shoulder, was anything to go by, you knew the end was nigh.

“Do you know,” he took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him, making you wince. “How many people I’ve killed ?”

Your heart dropped. Soap – for this was no longer the Johnny you’d come to know and love – released a brief, almost incredulous laugh. “D’ya think they’d call me gentle ? Loving and sweet ?”

Shaking your head, you hoped that by playing along you could negate whatever was coming next. Of course, any and all efforts would be in vain.

“Well,” Soap glowered, his hand encompassing your jaw, gripping you. He ground against you, growled. “I suppose I’ll just have to give you a demonstration, won’t I ?”

Valeria

“Oh ? Gentle ?” she says. Her voice is low and dangerous – you know because you’ve accidentally seen – heard – glimpses of her interrogation tapes. You know what’s coming for you – especially when she has your face pressed against her desk, her strap-on dangerously close to penetration, though hanging just out of frame. A threat.

“Is that what you thought I was going to be when you let that slimy, arrogant prick of a bartender slobber all over you ? Practically let him bend you over the counter and fuck you raw,”

Negotiation with Valeria is impossible – something else you’d gleaned from her tapes. And denial is even worse. But admitting to what she was accusing you of would be the signature on your death warrant. And she knows she has you cornered.

You can feel her tip prodding your hole. She didn’t even bother to lubricate you or prepare you.

“Shouldn’t need to. What, with that bartender already having done that for me.”

She knows the bartender did no such thing, but feeling you cower beneath her is too euphoric for her to even comfort you.

Without warning, she slams into you, only stopping halfway when your body refuses to take more of her, her obscenely long strap-on too thick for you to even fathom as you cry out, scream, tears falling to the desk’s surface beneath you.

Price

“You think, after all you’ve done, that you deserve my mercy ?”

Price’s grip on his belt was palpable, tightening, making the leather whine and whimper in his grasp. You could feel his teeth gritting, his stare hard. His voice held a cynicism you’d scarcely heard in his tone before. Not directed towards you, anyway.

“You go and chat up another guy and you have the audacity to believe that you’re worthy of even an ounce of my sympathy ?”

The context behind Price’s upset was all rooted in misunderstanding; he’d seen some younger, attractive guy chatting you up, and you, trying to be polite until your boyfriend returned, smiled. Which, in John’s eyes, was reciprocation. And now, you were paying the price.

“Tell you what,” he said, his stern features shifting to portray ill intent, an idea sparking in his mind. He lunged, grabbed you by your ankle and pulled you down the bed – closer to him. His belt remained gripped in his other hand.

“If you can take – say – twenty lashes, and count them – without missing a single one – I’ll think about being gentle.”

He brought his belt down on your thigh, making you cry out. “And then you can tell me all about how he’d be gentle with you – how he could unravel you like I can.” His gaze, dark with the oncoming storm, narrowed. “How he can have you like this.”

Horangi

“Is that what you said to König when he had you like this ?” Horangi hissed. He had you pinned beneath him, eyes blackened with the false conviction of your infidelity.

And, try as you might to ease his misunderstanding, to remind him that he’s the only one you love, you hear something.

The squeak of hinges, the swinging of the bedroom door opening.

You couldn’t see – think – for Horangi’s frame bolted to yours, but through the rushing of blood and Horangi’s beration, you heard a most unmistakable tone.

“Liar, liar, liar,” came König’s voice, punctuated with three broad, heavy steps. He loomed over Horangi’s shoulder, arms behind his back, the smile of deceit a tune upon his face.

A slinking, sly smile threaded Horangi’s lips as he kept his eyes on you, turning his head to address König. “I’ll see how much truth I can get out of (Y/N) first,” he said, and, like a soundtrack, the sound of König’s belt sliding from his pants lay a dark undertone – the instrument. “Then it’s your turn.”

One hand collecting your wrists, the other tearing the belt from his jeans, Horangi gave you his full, undivided attention. As did König. “Seeing as you’re so desperate for another man on the side,” said Horangi, “Let’s see how you take both of us.”

Alejandro

“Don’t lie to me, mi Corazon,” Alejandro says, ignoring your plea, one hand around your throat, the other on your thigh, grasping, groping, grabbing at your skin.

“I saw you – whispering in his ear, telling him God-knows-what,”

Alejandro is on top of you, his weight an immovable object, his stare dark and unforgiving. You can feel him sat just out of reach of your epicentre, but not out of bounds.

What he’d seen was you, smiling, whispering into Rudy’s ear about something sultry. What had actually happened was you were confirming the details of Alejandro’s surprise birthday party with him, smiling because you were so excited to get it organised.

But you couldn’t tell Alejandro that; it would ruin the surprise !

When Alejandro’s more tame efforts to get you to talk proved fruitless, he took to his preferred method of extraction.

He ground against you, letting out a low, shuttering moan.

“You can’t hide the truth from me forever,” he said, with all the conviction of one who has only ever known truth. “So if you’re not gonna tell me while you still have your faculties,” He squeezed your throat, his other hand slithering up your thighs, stopping shy of your centre and unbuckling his belt.

“I’ll just have to force it out of you. Break you down until you’re nothing but a fuck toy.” His eyes are almost black now. “My fuck toy.”

Rodolfo

“Next time you want someone gentle, why don’t you go running to Alejandro, seeing as you seem to like having him slobber over you.”

You couldn’t argue back, couldn’t defend yourself, your mouth gagged with a t-shirt Rudy had tied around your head. You couldn’t even unravel it, Rodolfo’s hands pinning yours beside your head as he pressed into you from behind.

“Hm ? Got nothing to say, mi Corazon ?” Rudy sneers. “Pity, seeing as you couldn’t shut the fuck up around your boyfriend earlier.”

As if to drive the point home, to hit the nail on the head, he rammed into you, making you whine, the shirt soaking up your cries and your drool. Your eyes shone with tears, but you dared not cry – not around Rudy. Not while he had you at his mercy.

“You won’t stop until you have all of us wrapped around your little finger, will you.” he said. It wasn’t a question, nor did he allow you to answer as he slammed into you again. “Luckily for you, I’m a good man. One who knows how to handle injustice when he sees it.” His grip on your thighs was almost painful, and were it not for the reluctant euphoria building within you, you’d have tried to break free.

“It’s up to me to force it out of you – to erase that entitled mindset of yours.” He pulled out, forced all of himself back inside, sharp. His breath shuttered while yours choked, your scream caught in your throat.

“Don’t worry, Ángel,” he breathed, lowering himself so his lips were to your shoulder, pressing a deceptively soft kiss there. “By the time I’m done, there won’t be a single thought left in that brain of yours apart from me.”

Graves

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Whore – you lost that privilege hours ago,” Graves says, threat heavy in his voice. He stands over you, face awash with a dense egoism you know is only worn when he has decided to take his frustrations out on you.

And today is no exception.

The collar about your neck is a reminder of all that you stand to lose should you fail to comply with Graves’ vision – your freedom; made excruciatingly clear to you by the locked bedroom door behind him, the key hanging in the lock.

No matter how you try to reason with Graves, he is having none of it.

“Shh, Sweetheart, now’s not the time for tears–” he says. The threatening tone in his voice remains, only the name he calls you changes. And the more endearing they become, the closer to danger you are.

He slides open the bedside table, reaches in and withdraws a pair of silver handcuffs, clinking together with a deceptive veneer of gentile.

“If you wanna get on my good side again, you have to do exactly as I say, precisely when I say so.” He cocks his head, a slim, coy smile spreading across his face like a disease. “Y’understand, Beautiful ?”

Gaz

“Gentle, gentle – is that all you have to say for yourself ?” Gaz spat, pacing back and forth before you as he kept a keen, sharp eye on you. “After everything you’ve done tonight, you think I’ll let you off easy ?”

The ‘everything’ Gaz was referring to had been your efforts to get a reaction out of him. Bending over at inopportune times, accidentally only wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers while the rest of your clothes were in the wash (or had mysteriously vanished.

And, your worst offence, sitting under his desk while he held a very important online call with Captain price. All the while, you’d poked and prodded and stroked him, tested his resolve, his patience.

And, evidently, you’d gone too far.

With the remote to the shock collar squeezing your neck attached to the very fibres of his hand, Gaz held all the cards, your sanity the Ace of the deck.

Before you could try to defend yourself, a thin spark sent you yelping, made you jump. Your hands flew to the collar, trying to pull its rounded teeth — the conductors – from your skin.

Gaz only smiled. “Oh no, Love – I won’t be gentle,” his tone was low, a serpent in the grass, his visage matching as he lowered himself to your level, eyes aglow with a piercing darkness. “If only you’d behaved, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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gothicminxx · 2 months

Text

Sylus x Fem! Reader

CW: Mention of injury and blood, yandere Sylus, slight cameo from Xavier, no use of Y/N, Sylus calls you doll.

In honor of Sylus being released I couldn’t help but write about his man. Kicking my feet, giggling, and blushing.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*

He patiently stood on a janky roof with rotting wood. The stench of mold wafting in his nostrils and the pouring rain only amplified the unpleasant aroma. Thick evergreen trees concealed his looming figure, a perfect spot to watch through the eyes of his raven that perched on its own tree a few miles west. Calmly the bird observes a figure that has since piqued his interest in every lifetime. A peculiar soul that has only ever belonged to you. Though a rare and delicate rose like yourself intrigued three others. Tragically, you were not his alone.

Unbeknownst to you, he watched you often through various objects. A curious raven or strange crimson robotic eye in the sky— those times he had gotten careless, you caught him on occasion, not that you knew what the object was. He could not help it, you simply intrigued him. The vain of his existence being in every lifetime you would interest him. Such a pity.

Shamelessly his raven watched as you stood deep in the forest. Your jeans were dirty from mud splattering on the material, your leather boots were caked with a mixture of mud and grass, and your clothes clung to your body— soaked to the bone in pouring rain. But the weather conditions appeared to have little effect on you as you continued to run through the muddy terrain. Your eyes stared intently at your hunters watch, Sylus could only assume you were after a wanderer, “What a persistent little thing.” He chuckled to himself.

You were stubborn and oftentimes a bit too arrogant for your own good, especially when it came to combat. You refused to follow orders, going into the forest alone in search of a wanderer far out of your caliber. But your partner was nowhere to be found— you were never the type to wait around. Even if the task at hand was presented as dangerous, in the name of justice you sought to protect. “Such arrogance.” Sylus hummed, observing as you puffed your chest, and bared your teeth like some sort of wild animal to a wanderer triple your size.

Besides being arrogant, Sylus would also describe you as being reckless. When your adrenaline levels were high you barely thought with a coherent brain. This got you into trouble more than not.

With an overconfident stride you lunged forward with your sword, slicing the wanderer enough to earn a shrill shriek of pain and fury. A cocky smirk appears on your features as your sword is struck in its skin, piercing at its flesh. The wanderer growls in response, clearly growing agitated with the injuries it sustains from the blade of your sword. You were a fierce warrior, Sylus would commend you for that. But he knew the rating class of the wanderer in battle with you currently.

The wounds on the wanderer began to heal, its anger towards you palpable, and yet you refused to surrender as you raised your sword once more. Before you could strike, its massive foot made contact with your body, a yelp escaped your lips as its claws penetrated the flesh of your thigh. Within seconds the wanderer flung you in the air causing you to crash against a tree. You gasped for air as oxygen was deprived from your lungs, eyes wide in fear, and a hand reaching out as if to claw at the tree— practically begging for a savior.

Sylus prepared himself to intervene— this had gone too far. But when his crow squawked, he halted from rushing to the scene. A flash of pure radiant white light caught his attention. The beam was blinding that it almost resembled the welcoming embrace of an angel— utterly captivating.

Flashes of colors from the rainbow soon intertwined with the white beam creating a beautiful show of light. Sylus could hear the wanderer screeching a haunting melody within the wall of colors, meeting its demise, he could only assume.

Seconds passed and the noise dissipated into the unknown, alongside the glittering rays of color. The crow titled its head curiously to a tuft of white fluffy hair kneeled beside your body, concern evident on his face.

He wore a classic hunters uniform. Perhaps he was the missing partner that got you into this predicament. His azure eyes studied his surroundings for a moment to assess any present danger. When he found none, he tended to you. He carefully aided you back on your feet, holding your chin in his gloved hand to examine your face, “Are you okay?” His gentle voice asked.

Still bewildered from the previous battle you blinked a couple of times, slowly nodding your head as if processing his question. There was an aura of familiarity between the both of you. You allowed him to touch your skin to check for further injury. He was tender with you, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll that could break if touched wrong. Sylus could only grimace at the interaction, balling a scornful fist. The man was one of the three, Sylus knew this to be fact, he’d seen an exchange with the two of you before. Though, this one was much different than the last time. He no longer appeared to be a stranger to you.

The milky haired man frowned, placing a wet strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture felt over protective and affectionate, “It’s too dangerous for you to be out here alone.”

Sylus took note of the sparkle in your eye when you looked at him, the demure smile that flashed across your lips at his concern, and slight nuzzle against his palm. He was as important to you, as you were for him. There was a twinge of jealousy that tightened his chest, he should be the one touching your skin. He had to remind himself that the time would soon come. Sylus meticulously crafted a plan to insert himself into your life.

“You never showed, I couldn’t just wait.” You shrugged nonchalantly, it was almost comical to Sylus. You were near death’s doorstep for a moment, and acted as though it was merely another day in the office.

“I was trying to assess the danger myself,” The man sighed, “You could have been killed.”

“I’m okay, Xavier.”

It was evident you were far from okay. Traces of blood scattered your cheek due to small scratches from the tree. There were lacerations on your thigh from the wanderers' sharp claws, deep crimson blood now stained your damp pants. Xavier scowled, “You’re bleeding.”

Before you could retort, Xavier picked you up, “Let’s get you somewhere warm and cleaned up.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺

Sylus sat on a plush leather couch, his fingers tapping impatiently on his lap. The time is finally here, the lamb has entered the lion's den. Naively you drank his offering even if you were warned of possible dangers— your ego was still intact. Your persistence to find answers was admirable to him, but in the end it would come with a price.

A knock rang on the cherry wooden door before opening, “The prey has been caught, sir.” His assistant informed with a bow.

He smirked, finishing off his whiskey, and sauntering toward your location. The black liquid you drank earlier, was spiked with sleeping pills to make it easier for them to capture you. He couldn’t take any risks, you were a fighter afterall.

Sylus reached a large metal door with two of his men guarding the entrance. They gave him a nod as the door opened. He walked inside, noticing your body sat on an uncomfortable metal chair, your hands and legs were bound to it. You appeared to be groggy as your eyes wandered around the room— clearly confused by your new surroundings. “Ah, you’re awake.” Sylus stated.

His baritone voice caught your attention as your body stiffened the closer he got to you. Sylus could sense the immediate tension, your jaw clenching not going unnoticed by him, “Who are you?” You asked, your voice going up an octave as if you were preparing to shout at him.

He walked circles around you, practically sizing you up. In this moment you looked like a helpless little doll, which was different compared to the fierce and reckless warrior he knew you as. “Sylus.” He responded simply.

Sylus kneeled in front of you, his crimson eyes studying your every feature. You were much more beautiful than he anticipated, he was used to seeing you from afar that this level of proximity made his heart hammer in his chest. He understood the decades of intrigue from the three others and his own. A true enchantress that drove him mad with obsession. “Why am I here?” You snarled.

Your tone made him chuckle, “As I asked before, will you become the hunter or the hunted?” He tapped against the chair, “Seems you were hunted.”

“Are you some sort of pervert?” Your voice is full of contempt.

He shook his head, “No, nothing of the sort. You see, when you enter the N109 zone, there are no rules. We made a deal, you should have listened to your friend when he told you to tread carefully.”

Sylus stood on his feet, checking his watch to appear bored of the conversation. But you fascinated him, more than you could possibly understand. Currently as you sat captured there was an aura of defiance. A man as intimidating as himself did not shake you with trepidation; it was almost— thrilling.

For a moment your eyes widened in realization of your earlier conversation with Rafayel and the drink you accepted, “I only care about receiving intel.” You scoffed.

He placed a slender finger under your chin and tilted your head up to meet his scarlet eyes. A shiver ran up your spine, the sound of your breath catching in your throat made him lean in. “You’ll receive your intel in due time.” Sylus whispered, “But you’ll play by my rules, doll.”

Now that Sylus finally obtained you again, he’d make sure it was forever. He was never good with farewell’s, this time it would be different.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 2 months

Text

Fighting the bear

A/N: Benedict and Anthony are jealous of the time their wives, you and Kate, spend together. They come up with a (not so) glorious plan to get your attention. Based on a prompt I received.

When Anthony entered the living space, he‘d certainly not expected to stumble upon Benedict peeking out one of the large windows with the curtain hiding most of his face. He furrowed his brows, waiting to be noticed, but realized after about ten seconds that it was in vain.

He held on to his arm behind his back and shifted slightly on his feet, amusement slowly trickling down his face as he decided to speak. „Brother?“

Benedict almost ripped down the tender fabric, turning around like a rabbit who heard a dog bark, the curtain swishing almost weightlessly over his head.

„Erm… brother!“ He answered in greeting, imitating Anthony‘s pose, hands behind back and chest jutted out, while nervously weighing up and down on his feet. His mind seemed to be galloping at high speed to come up with something to say. „What nice weather we have today, do we not? Nice indeed!“

Anthony hummed shortly in agreement, his amused eyes searching his brother‘s face to assess the situation. He walked over to the table with the afternoon biscuits to hide his smile and pour himself a cup of tea. Benedict had always been an open book. Whenever one of the brothers had played a prank in their youth, one look at Benedict‘s face had sufficed to give everything away: who had done it, when they had done it and sometimes even what they had done.

Now was no different.

„Tell me,“ Anthony slurred, turning around with a lazy smile, „is whatever you have been spying on, something I should rather not be telling your wife?“

Benedict stiffened with indignation. „Of course not!!“ His angry glance was burning into Anthony’s until it changed into a pensive one, his eyes looking up towards the ceiling.

„Though it is true that you should rather not tell her… but not for any such reason you might be suggesting!“

Anthony hummed again, the little silver spoon clinking in his tea cup. He took a long sip and made an extra loud smacking noise after he finished. Benedict‘s eyes grew narrower and narrower. The tension in the air would have been visible to anyone, like a floating purple cloud. Anthony put his tea cup back down and smiled at his brother. And then he was already dashing to the window.

„No, Anthony!!!“

Benedict cursed, when his brother took a turn about the sofa to confuse him and it actually worked, the younger Bridgerton losing the chase to his former spying position at the window.

„Well, look at that,“ the elder brother exclaimed teasingly, „our two wives conversing in the shade of the trees.“

Then his smirk fell and his brows grew closer together. „Our two wives conversing in the shade of the trees…“ he repeated, now with no remaining trace of amusement.

Benedict lifted his brows and nodded. He certainly had not expected his brother to look just as disgruntled as he felt. „Again!“ He added to Anthony‘s phrase, extending his hand and stepping to the window as well, ending up shoulder to shoulder with his brother. „What is it they keep talking about? Don‘t they ever grow tired of their conversation?“

Anthony hummed, now in a much more serious manner, his hand moving to his chin to touch it cluelessly. „They spend an awful lot of time together. I wonder if they are talking about us…“

Benedict‘s eyes grew in terror. „What would they be saying?“

„How am I supposed to know?“ Anthony hissed in distress, one hand wandering to his neck tie to loosen it a little. „Is there something you did?“

„Something I did??“ Benedict fired back, his voice uncharacteristically high from a strong feeling of disbelief. „What do you suppose I should have done?? Is there something that you did??“

„Of course not!“ Anthony‘s eyes were burning coals, when he turned his head around. They were staring at each other with their uncomfortable, helpless fear of having disgruntled their wives, covering it up with a good portion of self-defending anger. Until Benedict moved up his eyebrows and allowed a small huff of laughter to escape his lips. He dropped his forehead on Anthony‘s shoulder and groaned.

„What are we doing? Why are we fighting? I don‘t even know what‘s going on.“

Anthony‘s face relaxed at Benedict‘s words and he as well was shaken by a small sound of amusement considering their behaviour. He patted Benedict‘s head on his shoulder and looked back down at their wives who were currently laughing at something.

„We are acting like children,“ he concluded, giving Benedict a self-deprecating glance when he moved his head up again. „Did we really get this dependant on our wives since we married? Can we seriously not bear it to see them be content without us?“

Benedict winced at his brother‘s words. „It‘s come to this. I am jealous of your wife. Now that is a phrase, I never thought I‘d utter.“

Anthony chuckled quietly and bumped his shoulder against his brother’s affectionately. „If it‘s any consolation, I believe I am subject to the same affliction.“

Benedict grinned at him and Anthony realized that he hadn‘t been spending an awful lot of time with his younger brother recently. He looked at him with fondness and placed a hand on his shoulder.

„You know, I don‘t think I‘ve ever truly said this to you. But you‘ve grown into quite the man.“

Benedict‘s eyes grew large for a second, his surprise moving his features like a curtain, revealing an unexpected fragility. Then it rushed close again, avoiding the showcase of little boy emotions and replacing them with a teasing smirk - it was the Bridgerton way to deal with emotions and Anthony could not blame him for it. „Sorry,“ Benedict snickered, holding up his left hand with the wedding ring, „I am already taken.“

Anthony groaned in a good-natured manner, before grabbing his brother and putting him in a headlock, making him break out into boyish giggles that he certainly hadn‘t heard in a while.

They stumbled around the room for a while, before Benedict managed to break free, bringing the sofa between them. The jealousy of their respective wives was quite healed as they looked at each other with big grins, both gasping slightly from the effort of their rough-housing.

„Look at that,“ Anthony laughed, putting his hands on the backrest of the silky piece of furniture between them. „We can still have fun on our own, when it‘s just the two of us.“

„You mean,“ Benedict clarified with a grin, „that you can still have fun by means of torturing me!“

Anthony clicked his tongue and shook his head at him. „Come now! I didn‘t even tickle you!“

Narrowing his eyes to slim slits, Benedict took on a more defensive posture. „Don‘t even think about it. I am not the least bit ticklish anymore.“

Anthony barked out a taunting laugh. „Oh, sure. Care to put that to the test?“

Benedict stood up tall and held up an index finger. „I have a way better idea.“

Anthony was curious enough to lend him his ear.

——————

You liked Kate. You liked her very much. And you were over the moon that the two of you had married a Bridgerton and were now practically family.

She was well-read and funny and liked to make fun of her husband as much as you did of your own. Sometimes, all it took to settle an argument you‘ve been having with your respective other (not forcibly better) halves was a chat with a good friend. And Kate was one of the best.

You‘d been enjoying the afternoon together, chatting about this and that and taking a few breaks within the house to drink a cup of tea and fetch some of the books you wanted to talk about. When, quite rudely, your peaceful conversation was interrupted.

Wailing sounds were the first you‘d heard of them, before the pair of your husbands came into sight. Benedict was practically hanging from Anthony‘s shoulder, the older brother carrying him around the rose bushes in your direction. Red stains on both of their white shirts added up to the fright their sight installed in you.

Kate jumped to her feet, when you were still too stunned from the horrible sounds of pain Benedict was producing to move an inch.

„What happened?“ Kate shouted, running closer to them to meet them halfway. Your wobbly legs barely allowed you to get into a standing position. In your mind you were moving through water, as you approached them.

Anthony was sweating slightly from the effort of hoisting your groaning husband through the garden.

„We were attacked.“ He rasped out, trying to position Benedict in a slightly more comfortable position with his free arm.

„Attacked?“ Kate asked in disbelief. „By what??“

„A dog.“ „A bear.“ The brothers responded at the same time. Anthony shot his head around to glare at Benedict who was biting his lip through his rather dramatic groaning. Quickly, the elder Bridgerton recovered from the moment of surprise.

„He‘s hallucinating!“ He quickly shot out in an attempt to explain their differing answers.

Kate took a step back and eyed them both suspiciously, but the concern was still visible on both your faces. „Where did this happen?“ She asked, as you tried to lift Benedict‘s head with your hands to be able to look at him directly.

His cheeks were surprisingly cold to the touch and you did not manage to find the wound that had caused the red stains on their clothes.

„Does it matter?“ Anthony hissed at her. „I am glad I was there to save him. The animal was big enough to resemble a small bear indeed!“

„You didn‘t save me,“ Benedict hissed, his stance changing slightly as did his voice. „I chased it away all by myself, you merely found me.“

With narrowed eyes you watched as Benedict sent a quick glance in your direction. Too quick for your taste. Raising a brow in Kate‘s direction you suddenly found it hard not to smirk. Kate who had already crossed her arms in front of her chest and was looking at Anthony with a rather unimpressed expression.

„Whatever you say, Benedict,“ Anthony huffed, looking at both of you as if to say that his brother had lost a marble or two. „I‘d think it best we bring you to your room to allow you to recover.“

„Not before you get the story straight!“ Benedict insisted, the hand that had been holding on to Anthony‘s shoulder grabbing him by his nape now. Anthony hissed in pain and loosened his grip on his brother sufficiently to make him slide down Anthony‘s side. Benedict cursed and wrapped both arms around his brother‘s neck to keep from slipping.

You and Kate were watching the spectacle with growing interest and lessening worry. Whatever was going on, you could not say. But you did know that your beloved husbands were acting out an embarrassing scene in front of you, one, they had apparently memorized so badly that they forgot to act altogether.

„You are clearly not in your right mind right now,“ Anthony grumbled, wrapping his arms around his brother‘s waist to hoist him up again. „You‘re bleeding and… and the blood loss is making you foolish.“

„Foolish??“ Benedict gasped, his feet searching for solid ground in his outrage. „Who is foolish?“

„Both of you quite clearly are.“ You testified lazily, bumping your shoulder against Kate‘s. „I did not expect to ever see them ridicule themselves to such extents.“

„Neither did I, to be honest,“ she mumbled, looking on with a growing interest. „It is rather entertaining.“

„I agree,“ you responded, when Benedict‘s stained arm flung in Anthony‘s face and left a big red mark on his nose. „What do you think they used for the blood? Marmalade?“

„Oh yes, it appears so.“

„You ruined it all,“ Anthony rasped furiously, trying to free himself from Benedict‘s grip and simultaneously wiping at his face.

„I did??“ Benedict growled, keeping Anthony in half a headlock himself by this point. „You had to go off about being the hero of the day! You made me look weak!“

„Ohh, you want to look weak??“

You raised your brows in amusement, when Anthony‘s fingers started digging into your husband‘s ribs, making the younger Bridgerton gasp, before he practically started howling with laughter.

„NO DON‘T!!“

Retrieving his arms from around Anthony‘s neck, he tried to brush the other‘s hands off his middle, but was twitching and cackling too hard to manage any coordinated movement.

„ANTHONY NO!!“ He wheezed with laughter, as his brother managed to force him to the ground, the unfortunate position leaving him exposed to Anthony’s mercy.

„I thought you said you weren‘t ticklish anymore!“ The elder Bridgerton teased with a mischievous smirk, dwelling in the raucous laughter of his younger brother.

„That is clearly not the case.“ You chuckled, raising your shoulders cluelessly when Kate sent you a look that basically asked what on earth was happening.

„I suppose these two needed some time alone.“ You concluded, warmth filling your chest at the thought of the brothers spending some quality time together - without their wives.

„(Y/N)!!!“ Benedict got out between breathless giggles, „HELP ME!!! PLEASE!!“

You chuckled, all anger at the shock the brothers had installed within you wiped away in a single blow.

„Am I to save you from the bear now?“

Kate laughed at your words and waggled her brows. „I think I can be of bigger support in this situation.“

Anthony shot his head around at his wife’s words and suddenly jumped off his brother like a cat that got in contact with water, when Kate stalked towards them.

„NO!“ He simply yelled, before taking off, practically running away from his wife, who - never one to shy away from a challenge - chased right after him.

Benedict remained gasping on the ground, his cheeks reddened from laughter and his eyes reflecting the glow that came with the tears mirth could bring about.

You bit down on your lip to keep from smiling and quickly walked over to drop down on top of him, chuckling when he held up his arms defensively. „No more, please!! No more!“

Grinning from ear to ear, you took his hands to interlock your fingers. „I think you‘ve suffered quite enough revenge for your little prank.“

Sheepishly your husband groaned at your words, closing his eyes and tilting back his head. „It sounded like the perfect plan to get your attention, back when we came up with it.“

„That‘s because you turn into a ninnyhead, when you and your brother are together.“

With a grin you took in your husband‘s indignation.

„Did you just call me a ninnyhead?“

„The loveliest ninnyhead of all!“

Benedict squinted his eyes at you and tried to come up with a retort. Quickly he realized that he had none and instead broke out into soft chuckles. He removed his hands from your grasp and brought them to your hips to pull you even closer to him, your fingers moving to his face to caress his cheeks. „Is it a crime that I was dying to get your attention?“

„Not at all. It was simply ridiculous. Especially the part with the marmalade!“

Benedict shook his head at himself and even blushed a little. „I suppose love makes you do silly things.“

You smiled at him, bending down to join your lips together. „Love does. Your love for me surely. But apparently brotherly love is not to be excluded.“

Benedict snorted, but his eyes revealed the truth of your words. He would always be Anthony‘s little brother. And that bond was no less important than the one you two shared.

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