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#our lady of the abandoned
eldrtchmn · 4 days
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Death 🗡️ Lady Knight Tarot 🗡️
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ourladyofomega · 4 months
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📸: chperigault (Flickr)
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nomairuins · 1 month
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brothers a tale of two sons is such a connor and lamp reference bc yes it ws like popular i think but i think me and lamp have referenced that game more than anyone on earth. and its all bc i was mean as a child
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angsty-prompt-hole · 2 years
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Okay now that I've collected myself I'm going to abuse the polls to introduce my newest WIP idea (sort of). This one is very different from everything else I've written because it's autobiographical nonfiction bc my life is fucking insane. SO
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navree · 2 years
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once again on my frankenstein bullshit because i’m sure it’s a very nice bookend but it is baffling that so many fix it attempts for this story are built on frankenstein asking the creature’s forgiveness in the arctic because like??? no??? the only time victor was ever in the position of “hey you should really say sorry to this guy” is after he first ran away. everything else after that should be the creature fucking groveling and saying “hey sorry i murdered your brother and then framed your friend so she’d be executed and then murdered your boyfriend and the murdered your wife which made your dad weaken and die”  because in the scales of who’s been wronged more, guy whose father was mean to him is very much trumped by guy who had everyone he loves wiped the fuck out because his son threw a temper tantrum. 
sorry.
#personal#frankenstein#i myself love an attempted frankenstein fix it where these two can attempt to heal#or even something where they at least have a good moment before victor dies#but this idea that the creature is the only one owed an apology for the shit that goes down in the story is ludicrous#i feel bad for him i do my heart bleeds for our lil adam but like#what he went through 'at victor's hands' (and i say that with a big ole grain of salt)#is nothing compared to what victor went through at his hands. what victor suffered because of what the creature did.#like they both wronged each other enormously but there is a certain point where one kinda overpowers the other#for me i think that point came when the creature not only murdered a little kid but pinned it on an innocent lady for no reason#like am i crazy? am i dumb or something? why is 'abandoning the creature' worthy of constant self flagellation#but literally decimating victor's entire family and support system of people who loved him just something that can be brushed over??#like no if you wanna make it truly meaningful (and i'm not talking like fanfic here i'm talking literal reimaginings of the story)#then they both need to have a moment where they realize they fucked up and hurt someone who shouldn't have been hurt that way#i mean hell it's not even about the creature feeling sympathy for victor how about just ANY emotion#for the literal half dozen people whose deaths are on his hands!!! shouldn't that be a huge part of any arc or growth!!!#realizing that what he did wasn't right not just to victor but to the actual victims themselves who never did him any harm#god i'm once again mad at the people who have such a shallow understanding of this story
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vaultsixtynine · 2 years
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urehghdhgdhghg. whf is generally... listen. she gets it. she understands why people end up working for corps - she was one of them. it put metaphorical food on the metaphorical table. it paid for medical bills, piling up. it let her keep the people relying on her afloat. she won't apologize for making the decisions she made and doing what she had to do.
cut bc Longe. post abt takemura mostly.
but she never liked the corp itself, and only pretended she did when she had to. she worked in cybernetics programming, not intelligence, not public relations - she was tucked away in a basement lab, testing software integrations. no one looked at her for too long, let alone cared about how strongly she believed in arasaka's great vision. and behind all that, behind the chip she let them put in her to dull the edges of her emotions, there's just a massive, massive onslaught of rage.
listening to takemura talk up the Order and Overwatch of arasaka like it's a benevolent patriarch makes her want to climb off the side of the unfinished building they're doing a stakeout on and just hit the concrete, it'd be faster and less painless than her head exploding.
takemura, look at yourself. look at her. both of us are from respective slums created by corporate bullshit. she's been in debt since before she knew how to count, inherited and generated out of thin air as everyone she cared about fell victim to the poisoned air, the poisoned water, the poisoned earth - all effects of corpos running amok, unfettered. it's not like he doesn't know - it's just that he's convinced himself otherwise. seen what he wanted to see. and she was like that, too, before leaving arasaka for good. she knew, conceptually, that there were worse things under her feet. that some of her work was being used for horrible things. but there was only the desperate tunnel of needing to make it through to the next paycheck. and she stayed until the very last possible fucking second because - because it was only on the brink of having them take the last ten years of her life away from her that she realized she couldn't rationalize that away, and she had to stop doing it for everything else, too.
so sure, talk to hanako. do whatever you've got to do based on whatever loyalties you've got to honor. but don't fucking pretend, don't fucking lie to yourself that you were ever anything other than lucky. you worked hard, but a corp is a massive beast. you just got lucky. every day you got lucky except for that one day.
just like her. every day she got lucky. except for that one day.
meanwhile johnny's just sitting over there listening to all of this and it's the most she's ever spoken about anything prior to the corp, really, and it's usually walled off in her mind behind the arasaka no-feelings implant, so he's... interested, but also so fucking. sad. he guesses. he's sad because she's sad. except she's just empty, and the only thing left (because there is No One left; they've all gone and the years she spent trying to keep them alive feel completely and utterly wasted now because who is she to fight entropy. who is she to fight the corps. who is she to fight the decay of the planet) is just a well of anger so deep he's surprised he's never tripped over it before. not that he pries, exactly, but it's so obvious now that he's seen it. she's got so much of it and so little of anything else left, and he hates to see a mirror in her in this way.
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llycaons · 2 months
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cursed to wander the halls of this abandoned and derelict hospital searching for a room that may not actually exist seeking an item that may have vanished long ago...what am I some kind of romantic hero...
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snarltoothed · 6 months
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okay like two out of three of my cats are like… on death’s door basically despite them being all roughly the same age and sharing the same genetics (mother aged 16, son and daughter aged 15) and while i’ve accepted that i’ll be exceptionally lucky to get even another year or two with the momma cat (bonded to me) and that her son (bonded to my mom) is not too far behind… despite being the runt 15 years ago, the daughter (also bonded to me) is still quite spry and in good health so i literally tell her sometimes like you’d better live til you’re 20. i need at least five more years with you and also some time in between you and your mom dying. please.
#having old pets is sad#however i could not imagine willfully abandoning an elderly pet#which like… seems like it goes without saying but a lot of people do just decide their pet is too old and surrender it to a shelter#and miss daughter kitty was abandoned at like 10/11 by my cousin she did actually leave our household for a while#like who does that…#i mean no complaints i wanted to keep her when she was a kitten so i was more than happy to take her back but dude after ten years?#and she’s not even old in a sad way yet. and i’ve had her for an additional 4-5 years since#i mean it had something to do with her needing more attention after her other brother died and my cousin having kids and the cat probably#was not crazy about the kids she is very much a grumpy old lady even if she’s still lowkey a crackhead like a much younger cat#she is fat as fuck rn but idk what to do about that while the other two are still alive#like if we feed her less she will just steal more of their food than she already does because theyre too busy having arthritis to go eat#but like… we can’t just feed them less because they have a reduced appetite they still need to fucking eat…#so idk she’ll be going on a diet eventually but it’s not presently feasible#before i moved back in her diet was really strict because she hated my roomie’s cat so much she literally lived exclusively in my bedroom#so like i can adequately manage her diet when she’s not being a thief… but idk how to explain theft to a cat#at least i got her off iams dude idk what is in that shit but weaning her onto better food took at least six months and a lot of vomitting#like not ideal that she’s becoming obese again but she was this fat when i got her too (bc high carb iams diet)#HOWEVER her energy levels (while they’ve dropped since she was a healthy weight) are still wayy higher than when i got her#so getting fat from her high end gluten free purina and her relatives’ prescription hypoallergenic kibble and wet food for extra protein…#every other day (which has kept her from developing any visible muscle degeneration tyvm) is evidently healthier than being iams fat
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reinemichele · 7 months
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Haha,,, one of my mom's patients needs to find a home for her cat and we were planning on going tomorrow to get the cat,, but my brother saw we moved the cat carrier 😭 shit's gonna get ugly for a bit
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months
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i have this little thought bouncing around in my head! single father simon. (a drabble)
*shrug*
simon ends up with his daughter winnie after her mother abandons her at his doorstep. he was the father, it was his turn to take care of her. simon could handle warfare, he could handle guns and sweat and metal. he could handle blood and bruises.
but a fussy newborn was a little too much for him.
enter you, it was your summer off from university and you were making extra money by babysitting for parents who couldn't afford weeks of posh summer camps. it was decent work and you were pretty good with them! so being concerned for your neighbour, simon's well being, you offered to watch winnie.
simon very well fell in love with you the moment you took the baby girl into you arms. winnie instantly got settled into your grasp, almost like you were her mother.
"what a lovely baby girl." you cooed, you looked at her with such affection already. you looked at simon and smiled, "she looks too cute to be yours." a playful jab.
you watched winnie while simon was at work. you didn't know what he did for work, but you tried not to ask too many questions. all you knew was that the checks didn't bounce when you cashed them.
but being with winnie for so many days had gossip go through the apartment building. you had a baby with simon? why were you in two separate apartments? where did the lovely newborn sleep? she SHOULD be sleeping with her mother (you).
when you tried to correct them, simon always said, "ah don't worry. we'll be havin' our own place soon enough!" his large hand snaked around your waist.
you just looked down at winnie who was sound asleep in her stroller. she couldn't care less who her mommy and daddy were. it wouldn't be hard to be the mother she'd otherwise be without, right?
that was the angle that simon too.
you'd make the most perfect mrs. riley. you were already taking care of winnie, but also him when he came home. you shouldn't be the nanny, you should be winnie's mama.
"she really loves you." simon remarked when you went with him to the pool.
you were in a one piece swim suit and you were making sure that the baby was out of the sun and had sunscreen on. you didn't want her to get sick or burned.
currently she was resting on your chest while you were in the shade. in your free hand you had a book in it and the other was on winnie's back. you said, "i don't know what you're talking about." as if you hadn't heard the comments from the little old ladies about how sweet you two looked.
"look like a real mama."
you looked to him and raised your eyebrows, "i thought i was the babysitter, mister riley."
simon placed a hand on your thigh then rubbed up and down, "nah."
it didn't take long for you and simon to get intimate. he asked you to stay because winnie had been having trouble sleeping. you two shared a glass of wine and then you found yourself face first into simon's bed. the scent of him filled your head as he fucked you into the comfortable mattress.
he loved the sound of your pussy as he fucked you without much abandon. the thickness on your hips would only grow once he made sure his next child was inside of you. you'd be such a good mama, unlike that previous bitch who left him.
maybe there was a good reason why she left him.
cum clung to the fuzz on your pussy lips and was a bitch to clean in the shower come morning.
he woke you up and said, "she needs her mama. she gettin' fussy, doll." then watched you stumble around to find clothes to wear while you checked on winnie as if the little girl was your own. his hand was wrapped around his cock. he wondered how many more times he could finish in you before you stumbled back to your apartment.
the answer was four.
it wouldn't be easy carrying for a sprouting little baby plus the baby boy you were currently pregnant with. you've put school off for a little while and moved in with simon, your due date was in the middle of the semester. now you were trying to figure out what food was good for a teething winnie while also trying to manage the riley son that was occupying your womb.
you were making dinner for your growing family with a cute little maternity dress of. simon was at the table with winnie. he knew that one day he'd have to tell her that you weren't her actual mama. but you were raising her and her little brother too.
"see there's mama." simon said in that grumbled voice of his, pointing in your direction.
you didn't imagine that you would've ended up as a stay-at-home mother to two children who were than a year apart. but as you felt the shift of your 'second' baby inside of you, you smiled.
you heard winnie make a little noise to get your attention. you checked on the pot of sauce on the stove before you turned away to check on your little girl.
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this-doesnt-endd · 1 year
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Why am i having shipping issues lately? Like i've had a few things i've order/preorder that have supposed to ship already or things that have shipped and taken days past expected delivery dates to arrive and im not like calling being like wtf or anything but its like damn, this is the timeline it's given me i assume i can expect it to be correct
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inkskinned · 1 year
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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queers-gambit · 10 months
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Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs
prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 3.7k+
note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?
warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.
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Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.
You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"
"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.
"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.
"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."
"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.
God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.
You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.
Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.
However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.
And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.
You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.
Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.
Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.
After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"
After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.
"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.
"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"
You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.
"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.
"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."
You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."
He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."
You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"
"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.
You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."
"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."
"Judging me now?"
Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."
"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.
"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."
"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"
"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."
You folded.
Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?
You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.
"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.
Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.
He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.
Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"
"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"
"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."
You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"
He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.
"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."
"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.
You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"
He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.
"Ah, so can't reveal the government."
"Exactly."
"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"
"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"
You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"
He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.
He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.
"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.
A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.
"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."
You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."
"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "
"Isn't that the point?"
He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.
But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.
One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.
"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.
"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."
You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.
"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."
You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."
He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"
"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.
"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.
You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.
"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.
"Oh, Jesus fuck!"
He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"
"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."
This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."
"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.
"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"
"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.
"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."
"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."
"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.
You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"
The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.
"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"
"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"
"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.
"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"
"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"
"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."
"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.
He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."
You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."
"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"
"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"
"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."
"I wasn't planning on it?"
"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."
You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"
"A bit."
You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.
"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."
You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"
He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"
"I don't even know you."
"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.
"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."
"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.
"You still owe me for those," you pointed.
"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."
You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."
To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."
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[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]
requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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writtenfangirl · 6 months
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Madness
I wrote this so long ago and then abandoned it because I didn’t know if the ending was satisfactory or not. I thought it would have a greater plot as well but when I couldn’t find it, I was dissatisfied until I reread it and realized the prose was too good not to publish.
Fluff but also a little bit of angst if you squint hard enough.
In which Benedict Bridgerton finally reveals the truth.
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She was beautiful. Too beautiful, if Benedict was being perfectly honest with himself. Not the kind of beauty that had him picking up a paint brush and painstakingly striking an easel with lovely swirls of color but the kind of beauty that distracted him, made him brood in a dim corner of the room, watching the little twists of her mouth and the subtle way she arched a brow. Beauty to the point of distraction, like spending hours watching shooting stars dash across the night sky, not realizing as dawn approached on the horizon.
It was utterly maddening.
She was utterly maddening.
How was he meant to live, to exist and breathe, to witness such great beauty and yet have none of the capacity, the right, to keep it?
Just a glance from her, a single curve of her lips, and Benedict could feel his faith in God strengthening as easily as he could deny the Lord’s existence. Only a benevolent God could create such ecstatic beauty and yet no benevolent God could exist in this world if Benedict had to bear the cruelty of Y/N’s indifference.
Maddening.
He sighed, the sound bereft as he continued to watch her charm the eligible men of the ton. She had a veritable cabal of men gathered around her and if any other debutant had been in her position, they surely would have been overwhelmed by now.
But not Y/N.
Never Y/N.
With her head held high and her smile demure, she directed the men as easily as if she was holding court. A slight clearing of the throat and already, someone had a glass of lemonade in their hand while a flap of her hand would have the men falling over themselves in an attempt to get her a chair.
A queen holding court, indeed.
Benedict rolled his eyes at the man to her right, who practically shoved at the man on his left in order to catch Y/N’s attention. Not that it really mattered though, especially not when Y/N’s attention was focused on Benedict.
Even from across the room, the tension between them felt palpable. Exhilarating. It always had been with Y/N. Thick and smooth, the connection between them as tangible as their own beating hearts. Just a shared look between them and the world fell silent, the edges of his vision practically darkening at the edges until he saw only her.
Beautiful. Even as her face contorted with hurt for the briefest of seconds, her eyes pulling away from him and returning to the crowd of men that surrounded her.
Benedict gritted his teeth, the only sign of annoyance he let himself show.
“I see you are not quite so enamored with our diamond.”
Benedict’s head whipped to the left, finding Lady Danbury watching him with those shrewd eyes of hers. The old crone had her cane gripped tightly in her hands and Benedict fought his grimace at the phantom pain that shot up from his ankles. The dowager countess had a terrible habit of whacking gentlemen she didn’t like with that sturdy cane of hers and Benedict had felt the brunt of that pain far too many times for his liking.
Still, as a gentleman, he couldn’t very well ignore the woman. It would have been terribly rude of him to and it went against every fiber of the etiquette that had been drilled to him as a child.
He spared Y/N another glance before he spoke. “You think all those men enamored with her?”
“I think they think themselves enamored by her,” Lady Danbury said. “She is quite a beauty and accomplished too, I hear. Are you acquainted with the young lady?”
He had been, when he was young. As recently as a few months ago, Benedict had counted Y/N as one of his dearest friends but with everything that transpired between them…
“We are familiar with one another.”
Lady Danbury arched a brow, directing her attention back to Y/N. She was animatedly speaking with Anthony and Colin, the only time the entire evening where her smile didn’t seem a little bit forced. “Your brothers seem friendly with her. Why aren’t you?”
Because he was a stupid, bloody, idiot who didn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut, that’s why.
But his pride would never let him say that, especially not in front of Lady Danbury. “We are familiar with each other.” He repeated, voice tight.
Lady Danbury’s eyes flickered. “I seem to recall your mother telling me about how you and the Lady Y/N were thick as thieves not so long ago.”
Bloody hell, the old crone was relentless. He didn’t want to talk about his and Y/N’s falling out, especially not with her.
He suddenly whirled, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, I believe I hear someone calling me.”
No one was calling him but not even his impeccable manners could make him stay.
Lady Danbury harrumphed. “I may be old, boy, but I am not deaf.”
“Definitely hear someone calling me.” Benedict even cupped a hand, placing it on the side of his mouth before he yelled a quick, “I’ll be right there!” He turned back to Lady Danbury, who was looking at him as if she knew his claims were a lie. “Lady Danbury, if you’ll excuse me.”
The dowager countess simply gave Benedict a knowing look yet let him go.
He ducked into the crowd towards… bloody hell he couldn’t find anyone he would rather talk to. His brothers were still off speaking with Y/N and he didn’t feel like speaking with his mother, who would likely hound him about his fight with Y/N. Which left the last person of their party, Eloise. A quick scan of the room revealed his sister in the other side of the room, conspiratorially whispering to her best friend, Penelope Featherington.
He zoomed towards them, turning his back on Y/N and Lady Danbury.
Eloise caught his eye as he approached and her lips pursed in displeasure. “Why do you look as if you’re expecting me to bail you out of a horrible situation.”
“Can’t I see my favorite sister with joy in my face without being suspected of ill intent?”Benedict said with a grin before bowing to Penelope, who returned the gesture with her own curtsy.
Penelope ducked her head to suppress a giggle.
Eloise rolled her eyes at him. “What do you want?”
“To ask you why you’re sulking in a corner instead of dancing despite—“ he pulled at the dance card in her wrist, every single line filled with names that were unfamiliar to him. “Did you put fake names in your dance card?”
Eloise snatched her wrist back. “Yes. I thought that with Y/N grabbing the attention of so many of the gentlemen, I would be spared the embarrassment of having to entertain any gentlemen tonight. Unfortunately, I was wrong.”
Benedict turned to Penelope. “How many approached her?”
“Six,” Penelope smirked, “and those six quickly turned right back around.”
“Well with a full dance card, I’m not at all surprised.”
Eloise rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Spare me the lecture, brother. I’m sure I’ll hear enough from mother tonight.”
“She caught you?”
“After Eloise turned down the sixth one, Lady Violet began to suspect,” Penelope explained.
Benedict grinned. “When have you known me to lecture you?”
She gave him a saccharine smile, the kind that Benedict always knew would end with her barbed words. “Aren’t you meant to be fawning over Y/N? You’d done it most of our life.”
He bristled at her words.
Penelope shot them a curious look. “You never told me you were acquainted with the lady?”
“Hadn’t I?” Eloise frowned. “Lady Y/L/N’s family and ours have been acquainted for ages. Of course, she rarely ever came to London and if it hadn’t been for her father’s recent passing she wouldn’t have had a season at all. Mama had held hope that perhaps one of my dear brothers would begin to take some responsibility and marry her.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper that was so loud, it still reached Benedict’s ears. “Personally, I always thought Benedict would offer. He and Y/N had a special bond growing up. Even Daphne thinks so.”
Benedict had never hit a woman before but perhaps, just this once, excuses could be made for one’s sisters.
“So, well acquainted then,” Penelope said with a slight smile.
“I do recall Benedict pining after Y/N for years,” Eloise mused, uncaring as Benedict’s mood soured. “You never did tell me why it is you suddenly became estranged”
“Not that it’s any of your business.” He grumbled.
Eloise batted eyes innocently. “Irritable today, aren’t you, brother? Could it possibly be because of the cadre of men that hound every one of Y/N’s footsteps?”
“I have changed my mind. Francesca is now my favorite sister.”
“I love you too, Benedict,” she all but grinned.
He turned his attention back to Y/N, who, to his surprise, had taken her leave.
“She’s in the garden, if you wish to speak to her,” Eloise said, noting his wandering eyes and nodding towards the open veranda at the side.
“What gave you the impression that I would like to speak to her?” He tried to do his best nonchalant impression but not even Benedict was convinced of his own performance.
Eloise simply rolled her eyes at him before tugging Penelope’s arm. “With Y/N taking her respite, I imagine there will be a sudden influx of gentlemen who would like to dance. Let us make ourselves scarce.” And she pulled Penelope along, the red head offering Benedict an apologetic look.
He glanced at the crowd once again before letting his feet carry him through the veranda and out towards the garden. There were still many people milling about outside that granted them protection from scandal but it was much more intimate than the loud din of the ballroom.
The night was cool, the spring air serene compared to the humidity of the ballroom.
He spied Y/N, her back turned against the door. Upon hearing his approach, she sighed. “Good sir, if you did not understand me, I wish to be al—“ she turned and her words died at her lips at the sight of him. “Oh. It’s you.”
She looked even lovelier up close. She always did. Whether dressed in a simple frock with her long hair flowing down her back or dressed ornately with jewels adorning her, she always looked lovelier up close.
“What do you want, Benedict,” Y/N said, dropping that societal mask she employed inside.
“To apologize.”
She shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. You asked for my hand under false pretenses, I rejected you. End of story.“
“Under false pretenses?” He echoed, his own tone turning sharp. “You think my proposal to be insincere? Is that why you rejected me?”
“I did not think it insincere, I knew it to be insincere. I heard you and the Lady Violet discussing me. I heard when you declared your intention to ask for my hand in marriage simply because she had asked you to.”
Oh.
Oh.
He remembered then, the conversation he had with his mother right before he proposed.
“Propose to her,” Violet had urged just as breakfast had been served, with only Benedict and Violet dining.
“I am not even courting her, mama,” he replied exasperatedly. It had been far too early in the morning to entertain his mother’s insistence on seeing him wed to Y/N. She’d pestered him about it in one form or another even before the Y/L/Ns had come to visit the Bridgertons and Benedict knew she would not stop until he and Y/N were formally engaged.
But Y/N had just ended her mourning period for her father. And though societal mandates dictated that it was perfectly reasonable for Benedict to ask for her hand in marriage, he knew how deeply she mourned the man, especially since his death had placed her in such a precarious position. The late patriarch of the Y/L/N family had been fond of his only child, even if she had been born a girl. And Y/N had loved him, even if his death left her and her mother saddled with financial debt despite coming from the longest line of barony in England.
“What does it matter that you are not courting?” Violet demanded. “You have known her since you were both children. You’ve been courting her all your life.”
“Mama, please leave it well enough alone.”
“What is it that you do not like about her?” She insisted. “She is beautiful and accomplished and you have known each other your whole lives. Any young man would be fortunate to be bound to her in marriage.”
“I never said anything that would imply otherwise.”
“Then why do you refuse to ask her for her hand in marriage? Doing so would spare her a season in London and limit their financial troubles.” And then she had gasped in indignation. “Or is their financial troubles the very reason why you refuse? I never raised you to be avaricious!”
Bloody hell. “I am not avaricious, mother. I do not care about her dowry or lack thereof!”
“Then what is it? Do not tell me it is because you do not love her. I have seen the way you look at her.”
Benedict had eyed his fork, had wondered if perhaps, it would be a better to shove it in his ears than listen to his mother’s hullabaloo.
Instead he took a scone, spreading a generous layer of clotted cream and jam so his hands had something to do rather than maim himself.
“And how is it I look at her, mother?” He drawled.
“The same way your father used to look at me.”
At that he had paused, scone half-raised to his mouth. He hadn’t known what to say anymore. Mentions of his own father had always been capable of silencing his mind.
Finally, he had decided on telling her the truth, that his mother may finally stop pestering him.
“Asking Y/N for her hand in marriage had always been the plan, mother,” Benedict relented. “I was simply waiting for the perfect moment.”
Violet smiled at her son kindly. “There are no such thing as perfect moments, dearest. Only moments that can be made perfect. And whether you ask her later or tomorrow or next week, that moment will be perfect by virtue of you asking.”
She was right, of course. Violet Bridgerton was so rarely incorrect especially in matters of the heart and love.
Benedict had given her a smile, and said, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Well, since you so graciously asked me to, I shall propose to the Lady Y/N, if only to make you happy.”
That must have been what Y/N heard. Not the whole story but the end, when Benedict had teased his mother.
Now he was convinced that God existed and that he must be cruel. Only the machinations of a cruel God could have lined up the timing perfectly.
Y/N’s eyes flickered as she regarded him. “I do not wish to bind you in marriage with someone you do not hold any affection for. You have fulfilled your promise to your mother and have asked for my hand. I rejected you. We no longer have any obligations with one another. Good night.” She made a move to pass him, to walk back to the ballroom to her gaggle of men but Benedict’s hand shot up, gripping her arm and keeping her to him.
His hands were gloved and even Y/N’s arms were sheathed in silk. And though he had never felt gloves to be particularly offensive, he wished to burn the ones that covered their hands. If only so he could feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers.
The heady scent of her perfume wafted through his senses. She smelled divine, like walking through a garden of roses under the cover of moonlight as the stars twinkled above his head. Utterly mouthwatering, and capable of driving even the sanest of men into insanity. The scent of distraction.
Always so distracting.
Benedict forced his mouth to speak before his brain could forget the words he needed to say. “Do you think so little of me? Capable of such cruelty especially when it comes to you.”
Y/N’s brows met, a flash of pain in her eyes and then it was gone. “It is the opposite, really. I think the world of you, Benedict. Only a gentleman would offer to marry a girl he has no obligations to simply because of her precarious position in life. You are an honorable man and any woman would be lucky to call you their husband. It is why I cannot accept your proposal, not when you do not love me. Not when there is no one on this world more deserving of love than you.”
Benedict frowned at her. “Why do you continue to insist that I do not love you?”
“Because you do not!” She pulled away from him, wrenching her hand from his grasp. Her eyes were pure anguish as she looked at him and the very sight of her pain had him staggering back. “If you truly held any affection for me, I would know. I have studied you all our lives, Benedict. And in all the time we shared together, you had never shown any affection for me beyond that of a friend. Your proposal hurt, Benedict. I have loved you in every way a man could be loved for so long and for you to ask for my hand in marriage out of pity—“ She choked, eyes widening as if she didn’t mean to say the things she’d said.
“You love me?” He echoed, heart beating quickly in his chest. He wondered, briefly, if his fast beating heart marks the day he really lived. If Y/N’s confession had been the reason he truly felt alive for the first time in his life.
Her face crumpled in pain as she stepped back. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said those things. Please take your leave, Benedict. That I may salvage whatever scraps of my dignity is left.”
But Benedict did no such thing.
Instead he took her hands and lowered himself into a kneel, setting his eyes upon her. The arching light of the manor spilled over the veranda casted her in a soft glow that took his very breath away.
Y/N’s eyes widened in alarm and whatever pain she held there was washed away by her surprise. “Benedict, what are you doing?”
“Begging you for forgiveness.”
“What? Benedict, get up.”
But he held firm, his determination cementing his knees to the ground. “Forgive me, Y/N, for my grave transgressions against you. That you had ever lived your life doubting my affections for you, or wondering if I cared for you as more than a friend are sins I will carry with me to my last breath. It will be my great shame that I had not made it abundantly clear that I love you. Because I do love you. Most ardently.”
“Benedict, get up. This is madness—“
“You are right. It is madness. The way I feel for you would drive the sanest of people into lunacy. But if loving you is madness then I don’t ever wish to be sane.”
Her eyes gleamed silver with unshed tears that threatened to fall from her pretty eyes. “B-But that morning, the day you proposed—“
“I did not propose to you out of pity for you, I did it out of pity for me. I needed to put myself out of my misery and finally marry the only girl I ever had the privilege of falling in love with rather than continue pining after you in secret.”
She let out a a laugh through her tears, the sound like bells chiming during a storm. Light and beautiful despite the pouring rain that threatened to drown it out. “Ask me again.”
His heart leapt to his throat, pounding so quickly he struggled to get the words out. But they came nonetheless, the words clear and betraying none of his anxiety. “Y/N, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
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vrystalius · 4 days
Note
Hey babess, i have quite the heartwarming request.
So imagine that wife reader is heavily and her water randomly breaks so ofc she gives birth with the help of shinobu(i love her so much) and other midwives ofc. So how would the hashias react during the late stages of pregnancy and birth??
Hear me outtt, what if preg reader was pregnant with twins(im a big family girl lol, i had to let that out). Stuff stuff
Hashira’s reactions during your pregnancy
You’re heavily pregnant. How will your husband react?
Note: I didn’t include the gender and names of the babies, so you can choose the genders and names yourself!
Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x fem!reader
Includes: Food cravings, mood swings, sickness, talking to the baby, birth and a little bonus scenario in the end (different for every hashira)
Words: 5.1k, enjoy!
Sanemi Shinazugawa
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Food cravings
What? You want to eat ohagi again? Sure it’s Sanemi’s favourite food, but you’ve insisted on eating ohagi for every day the past week. The baby needs some vegetables, fruits, vitamins and whatever else. Just anything but ohagi!
He couldn’t even watch when you proceeded to devour sweet potatoes with a chocolate sauce. The worst part is that Sanemi is the main chef of this household and was forced to cook all kinds of monstrosities for you during your pregnancy. But he never said a word about it and just silently judged you for even asking him to bake a whole fish just so you can covered it in sliced fruits and chocolate sauce.
“Are ya sure you’re not poisoning our baby? Are ya really, really sure?”
Sometimes, Sanemi’ll try to sneak in healthy foods into your diet like one would to with a toddler. He’d chop the vegetables as small as possible and try to feed them to you in bits by bits by incorporating them into your favourite foods. You weirdly enough never noticed how your ohagis began to taste like carrots more and more.
“What? No. I’m making them like always. I.. just used the same knife for both carrots and the beans of the ohagi… Whatcha looking at me like that for??”
Mood swings
It’s very confusing to Sanemi how you can be happily munching on your snacks in one moment and then began crying about a dog wandering the streets, thinking someone abandoned him. He’s putting up with it, though. He’d would take you into his arms and try to explain to you that no, that dog is not living on the street and that it belongs to the nice old lady that lives just down the street. He gets a little nervous every time you get emotional when standing in the nursery and inspect all the prepared toys and clothes. Why are you crying so hard? Do you not want a baby? Or are you just this excited to have one?
He doesn’t get your mood swings but’ll try his best to give you reassurance and support. Even though Sanemi’ll be a little awkward and just hover around you in fear of triggering another random emotion in you.
“Hey, darling… how about we move to the bedroom? The nursey is makin’ ya emotional. You’re gonna loose control over ya bladder and I’m gonna be forced to clean after ya. Again.”
But most of the time, Sanemi’ll get soft when you get emotional over the baby stuff like this. Sometimes, he’ll sneak into the nursery during the nights he can’t sleep and rumage all the baby’s things. Sanemi would look through all the neatly folded baby clothes Giyu send over and the toys Tengen’s wives made themselves for the baby. He can’t help but get a little teary-eyed himself, leaning against the crib and looking down at the soft mattress below. He just can’t want to have a little baby in there.
“Fuck, don’t sneak up on me like that! A-And ‘m not cryin’, I-I’m just checkin’ on the crib. Y’know, if it looks stable and shit. It gotta handle our fatass baby.”
Talking to the baby
Sanemi loves to lay his head against your stomach and just listen to the baby’s heart beat. His hand would gently caress your stomach while mumbling against your skin.
“Whatcha doing in there, hm? Why are you kicking your mommy? You’re hurting her, y’know.”
It’s a weird sight, seeing a strong man like him baby talking to your stomach while having his cheek pressed up against your belly. He’d take at least one hour in his day just to talk to your baby and tell it aaaalll about your and his day.
“Your mom threw up onto our new carpet and that’s your fault, you know that, right? I’m gonna kick your ass for it one day. Maybe when you become a shitbag in your teenage years.”
Sickness
“In both sickness and in health,” and Sanemi meant that wholeheartedly after speaking those words out loud during your wedding. Even if that means sitting beside you in the middle of the night, holding your hair and patting your back while you throw your guts up. He’s sleepy, he’s tired, but he won’t return to back without you. If Sanemi has to, he’ll cook up some tea or soup for you to calm your stomach. He’d even break Shinobu’s door down for some herbs or medicine if it means making you feel better and cuddling you back to sleep with no worries.
“You’re okay, I’m here. Don’t hold back.”
If you’re throwing up for a while, Sanemi might fall asleep in the hunched over position while holding your hair behind your head, his hand still firmly resting on your shoulder in quiet support. He jumps back awake when you throw up violently again.
“Ugh, you good? Told you seaweed n’ cherries don’t go together…”
Birth
Sanemi wanted to complete one last mission before retiring for good. He noticed how his muscles were starting to soften up and the callouses in his hands began to disappear. Just one last mission, then he’ll become a full-time dad! He promised you it’ll be for just three nights and that Shinobu will be looking out for you while he’s gone. You two can talk about preparations, body changes and whatever you two always talk about.
He was close to tracking this scum demon down when he received a message from his crow about you going into labour. Sanemi wanted to go on a mission one time, just one time! Can’t you hold the baby in or something until he comes home? He knows that he has to behead this demon before coming home. That thing already did enough harm and he didn’t want to retire on a bad note by ditching his final mission. So, Sanemi proceeded to chase the demon down while steaming in anger. He wanted to go on a mission just ONE last time, damnit!!
“COME BACK HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!! MY WIFE’S GIVIN’ BIRTH, WHILE I’M CHASING YOUR SORRY ASS!!”
Shinobu helped you through the whole process of giving birth. The contractions and labour lasted for almost half a day, and you managed to almost broke two of the three butterfly girl’s hand in an attempt to release some pain. You were supposed to hold Sanemi’s hand and almost break his bones while giving birth, not theirs! Shinobu kept reassuring you that Sanemi surely is already on his way! Surely. She had her soft smile on her face the whole time while you pushed and screamed through the pain, reassuring you and offering all kinds of ways to relieve pain during the whole process.
After Sanemi returned from his missions, he was staring at two babies in your arms. His eyes darted back in forth from the one to another. The baby on your left had beautiful white hair and was squirming around a lot, grabbing your robes and was seemingly already complaining about the lack of feeding you’re doing. The other baby had darker hair and was much calmer. It was asleep, resting against your chest.
His heart shattered in a million pieces after processing what just happened. In a good way, that is. He never commented on it, but Sanemi did notice that you were a little bigger for being pregnant with only one baby. He just brushed it off as being a bit bloated or the baby being really big, but never that it were two babies that were hogging all the food you were devouring. Sanemi was bawling his eyes out while holding both of his babies in his arms for the first time. They’re so tiny, so cute and chubby! How could anyone not love them? He was barely able to speak while trying to express how much he loves you and is so glad that you and the babies are fine. This is everything he had ever hoped for: a perfect wive, a family home and two kids. If only his other siblings were here to celebrate this moment with him. Perhaps he’ll allow Genya to visit every now and then.
“I-I- *hic* W-We need an-another- *hic* … the crib’s not b-big enough- f-for- *hic* gah, f-fuck!! *hic*
Bonus: A tight crib
You noticed how Sanemi insisted on putting the babies back to sleep every time they woke up during the night for anything. You usually fall back asleep and wake up in the mornings back in his arms, but tonight, you wanted to wait until he returns to bed to cuddle him. After the babies quieted down and your husband didn’t return, you dragged yourself out of bed and stepped into the nursery, only to find Sanemi laying inside the cramped crib, having the baby lay on one side and the other on the other. He was laying in an extremely uncomfortable position, with hid neck bend at an awkward angle and him laying in the crib with his legs dangling out over the edge. You couldn’t help but giggle a little, seeing your husband scarfing his own comfort for his babies.
“Nemi?…”
Your whispering made his eyes flutter open. His face contorting into a tired scowl.
“It’s the only way to put ‘em to sleep, not my fault they like me so much.”
Now, are the babies attached to their papa, or is Sanemi being very attached to them?
Kyojuro Rengoku
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Food cravings
Whatever you’d like to eat, he’ll provide! Sometimes, if the combinations you come up with sound appetising enough, Kyojuro’ll even try some the foods alongside you! He will not judge you for craving weird foods during your pregnancies, but he is a little worried about your choices. You need to make sure that you eat enough nutrients for you and the baby! Kyojuro’ll try his best to cook up something nice for you, but he ends up buying take-out and feeding that to you instead. He’s scared he might burn something or accidentally poison you, so he’d rather leave food up to the chefs.
“I brought some tempura, some soup dumplings, ramen, udon noodles, mushed and baked sweet and regular potatoes. Oh! And some dessert… Mochi, dango and a slice of cake! Everything you ordered, my flame!”
Shinjuro, after finding out about your pregnancy, would offer to cook for you sometime. He used to make meals for Ruka while she was pregnant, so he thought he might make himself useful and help out. Kyojuro’s father actually vowed to stop with the drinking to make sure his grandkid doesn’t grow up around a drunk grandpa, so this is a first nice step for him. Besides, he feels guilty for being so terrible to Senjuro and Kyojuro.
His meals are surprisingly very well made and tasty. They soothe your nausea, lessen the swelling in the feet and help a lot with your headaches.
“Father, I never knew you could cook this good!” “Shut up and eat your plate.”
Mood swings
Kyojuro feels like he’s causing your mood swings sometimes. He feels guilty when you start crying over little things, like how your favourite tree is starting to change colours in the leaves, or just how much you missed your husband after him leaving for half an hour to get you dinner. He’s used to comforting Senjuro while the two grew up together, so he might know a thing about holding someone. Kyojuro would pull you closer and place lots of kisses on your head and top of your head, rubbing your shoulder with his warm hands. His warmth is very comforting to you, making you calm down a little.
“Are you feeling unwell? What made you so upset, love?”
He’ll try to cheer you up by talking about baby names. In his family, most of the names sound similar and end with an “juro”. Shinjuro, Senjuro, Kyojuro… how about Tojuro? Sounds nice, doesn’t it!? Or how about Kijuro? Or how about you combine your first letters with Juro? That sounds very fitting! And see, your tears are already gone!
“I’m not sure if we should think about girl’s names, my love! My family birthed sons for generations now! But we can write some down if you like, just in case.”
Sickness
Seeing you sick makes Kyojuro nervous, but he’ll stay beside you during your morning sicknesses and nausea. You kind of remind him of his mother, back when she was in the late stages of her sickness, that’s why he gets a little jumpy when you hunch over the toilet snd wretch your guts out. He’ll hold your hair and gently caress your back, silently hovering beside you.
To make sure you don’t have to get out of bed in the middle of the night to throw up, Kyojuro equipped your nightstand with a bowl you can throw up into anytime you felt nausea hitting you.
“I’ll make some tea for you once you get nauseous again, okay? My mother’s recipe.”
Talking to the baby
Kyojuro loves to talk to your stomach as if the baby is already out and able to talk back. He’d sit beside you in bed, gently caressing the side of your stomach while grinning brightly.
“What kind of hair will you have, hm? Like mine? Or like mom’s?”
Sometimes, he’ll try to convince the baby to let you sleep for once. If you can’t sleep, Kyojuro can’t sleep. He’d lay his head on your chest and sleepily mumble to the stomach while slowly rubbing your sides.
“You’re quite the active one, hm?.. mh.. How about we go to sleep together, okay? Be a good kid and give your mommy some rest…”
Birth
When your water first broke, Kyojuro thought the baby might’ve kicked your bladder or something, causing you to leak. But the horror on your face that followed soon after changed his mind in an instant. He sent out a crow to Shinobu, notifying her about your labour, but it might take a while until she arrives. In the meantime, your husband prepared all the things for a homebirth. You probably wont be able to reach the butterfly mansion in time to give birth there, but in the meantime, would you like water? Food? Sweets? A towel? Maybe not the last one because you’re able to hit him with that. You’re very angry about him impregnating you nine months ago while being in painful labour right now.
Shinobu surprisingly arrived very quickly and got right to work. Her soft voice and kind words as encouragement managed to calm you down as far as to not curse Kyojuro and all his ancestors out. Your anger directed at him actually helped you press the baby, so your husband happily sat there and held your hand while you were attempting to break it while redirecting your pain
Finally, after hours on hours of labour, Shinobu’s encouragement and Kyojuro’s hand turning blue from blood being cut off, you birthed two identical twins. Both had your husband’s flamboyant hair colour and prominent eyebrows. Your husband was trembling and crying after seeing them for the first time. His babies, his kids! And two of them?? In one go?? This couldn’t have gone any better. For around the next hour, while your babies were nursing on you, he kept thanking you for everything you ever did for him.
“I-I love you! I-I love y-you! Th-Thank you for marrying m-me, my fl-flame! Than-Thank you for giving me t-two babies! Thank y-you! T-Thank you!!”
Bonus: Tasty hair
Your babies are for some reason obsessed with your husband’s hair. Maybe it’s because of how bright his hair is or how nice it is to chew on it. You caught Kyojuro offering his baby his hair to hold and play around with, only for it to start pulling tightly on it. It hurts a little and he’s not quite sure how his baby got this strength out of nowhere, but he’s incredibly happy that his baby likes his hair so much!
But he also learned that the twins prefer their grandpa’s hair a little more over his. Shinjuro doesn’t appreciate it as much as Kyojuro is, though. He tolerates them pulling on his hair but doesn’t like it. At all. He’ll glare at his son until he finally takes his baby away from his damn hair! His scalp is already burning!
(But we all know that Shinjuro takes them back into his arms on purpose to tickle their stomachs and to let them pull on his hair as they please. They’re just too cute!)
“My flame, could you help me remove our child? This one seems particularly fascinated by the taste of my shampoo!”
Gyomei Himejima
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Food cravings
Gyomei will not always give into your odd cravings. Instead, he’ll try to redirect your cravings to tastier things. He’s worried that you don’t get enough nourishment for the baby and for yourself, so Gyomei’ll try to feed you healthy foods instead of eating the creations you came up with. Why do you even thought about eating pieces of clay you picked up from right next to the waterfall? You’re lucky Genya caught you before you managed to take a bite.
To be completely honest, Gyomei is incredibly worried that you’re eating things you aren’t supposed to eat while he’s not watching/listening.
“Love, what are you chewing?”
His calm and deep voice makes you stop munching on the raw onion and immediately put it back down onto the counter of the kitchen.
Gyomei insists on cooking for you, even if he’s blind. He’s surprisingly good with cooking and always manages to slip vegetables into the meals in the tastiest way possible! You somehow never notice and just are incredibly happy that he takes some time out of his day just to cook meals for you! Sometimes, Genya joins in when you two eat and just chats with you about your husband’s training and his big brother. He’s also very curious about your pregnancy and how you’re coming along. That boy is just as excited about your baby as your husband is! Genya even gifted you one of his best bonsai trees to keep in the nursery!
“Miss Himejima, are you still hungry? You can have my plate if you like, I’m going to meet up with Tanjiro to eat later in the city together anyway.”
Mood swings
Gyomei understands that your hormones are going a little crazy during your pregnancy, but he still gets a little surprised when your mood changes so suddenly. You get emotional mostly over Genya and how hard he’s training to make up with his brother. You cry everytime when you see him train hard under Gyomei. Your husband finds it kind how much empathy you’re feeling for that boy, but the poor boy can’t really concentrate when a crying pregnant lady watching him train. So, your husband suggested you to not watch them train as much anymore and instead do something else. As compensation, Gyomei promises you to tell you everything he and Genya have been doing that day.
Sometimes, when you get angry out of nowhere, Gyomei’ll just let you throw your little tantrum while listening you silently. After you finished, he might suggest exorcising you as a joke to lighten your mood, but his serious tone and unmoving expression made him look like he’s serious. Wich makes you cry.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not going to exorcise you, I promise, my pearl. I would only do that in the extrem case.”
Sickness
Gyomei knows how to deal with sicknesses and nausea. Once you express feeling sick in any way, he’ll prepare a special herbal tea, open up all the windows for fresh air, feed you crackers and dry food, and of course, equip you with a bowl to vomit into just in case. He’ll sit with you in bed, your head laying on his thighs and his palm resting on your forehead, slowly petting your hair.
He’s mumbling quiet prayers for you and your baby, his deep and smooth voice calming your stomach slowly. Gyomei’d smile softly while having his eyes closed. You told him that his smile is always making you calm, so he’s trying to smile more often for you.
“How are you feeling? I can brew you another cup if you like, it’ll help you.”
Talking to the baby
Gyomei barely talks to the baby while you’re awake. He’ll sometimes lean down and mumble a couple of greetings and kind words before moving on with his day, but when you fall asleep at night, your husband likes to have one-on-one conversation with his child. He’d have his large palm resting on your belly, rubbing it up and down. Gyomei sometimes nuzzles into your sides and places a few kisses on the side before talking.
He’d be praying first, making sure that the baby is alright and’ll come healthy into the world. Then, he’d quietly talk about you. Your husband’ll talk about the things you like to do, about how emotional you get over Genya, how you pout everytime he leaves early in the mornings to train, how much he loves you and how you insisted on get even more toys, even though the toybox is already filled to the brim.
“We are both very excited to meet you… please be more kind to your mother until birth. Her bladder is not as strong during the pregnancy, so do not test it again.”
Birth
Gyomei was praying the whole time he was waiting outside the chambers of where you were currently yelling in pain. His eyes were closed in concentration and his palms rubbing together, his red pearly beads wrapped around his hands. He could hear every mumble of Shinobu to Aoi, every curse you’re throwing around and every bed creak after changing the position. Shinobu suggested that Gyomei should wait outside since he’s quite large and they need more space to move around you. You promised to him that you’ll be fine on your own. He has been crying and praying, crying and praying the whole time for you and the baby, until finally, everything got quiet. Your cries died down, but there wasn’t any signs of a baby crying either. Gyomei was silent, stopping his prayers for a moment.
Until finally, first one baby, then another started to cry out. Two? You were carrying two miracles in your stomach all this time? Shinobu permitted Gyomei back inside and allowed him to meet the babies for the first time. They felt so incredibly tiny in his arms, so so tiny and fragile… The babies are the most precious things, and he felt like the luckiest man in all of history, holding his babies in his arms. His voice was very shaky and more tears than usual were running down his face.
“My love. I thank you for all eternity for giving me this gift… thank you. I am incredibly grateful for everything you have ever done for me.”
Bonus: Who’s who?
Given that Gyomei’s blind, he has always relied on his senses to move through the world. But funnily to you, his senses fail to differentiate wich baby is who. Sometimes you catch your husband holding one of the babies, standing silently there, thinking about who exactly he’s holding right now.
“Need some help, dear?”
Your voice made him turn his head towards you, smiling slightly.
“Yes, I already fed one of our twins. I went to retrieve more milk and lost track of wich one I already fed.”
His voice sounded a little confused but also slightly amused. Stepping closer, you saw how the baby that was laying in the crib was uneasy and wiggling it’s legs around, while the one Gyomei was holding was calm and content. You figured that the squirmy one wasn’t fed yet and took the sleepy baby out of your husband’s arms, setting it back into the crib and taking out the other.
“Here, this one seems hungry, hm? Aren’t you?”
You sweet-talked the baby a little, tickling the little stomach, making it giggle and kick against your husband a little. Gyomei nodded quietly.
“Thank you. I have yet to figure out how to differentiate our twins properly.”
Giyu Tomioka
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Food cravings
He’s a little confused out by your requests that keep getting weirder and weirder. Are you sure you want to eat that? If Giyu would eat that, he’d be throwing up. Oh wait, you actually are vomiting up regularly…
Giyu will give you everything you asked for, but hesitantly. Before placing the plate down, he’d eye you up and down, judging you heavily for what he’s about to dish you. His silent judging eyes are enough to second guess your life choices that made you ask your poor husband to cook mashed potatoes mixed in with strawberry yogurt and sakura mochi with fish filling. Perhaps you’ll take the miso soup instead.
Sometimes, he’ll get so worried he approached Shinobu by himself and asked if there’s any medication he can give to you to make you crave less weird things and eat more healthy. Sadly, there is nothing like that, so Giyu’ll eventually resolved to force feed you regular foods instead. He’ll sit you down and feed stir fried veggies, rice, eggs, soup, tea, dessert and whatnot. Anything else but the monstrosity you keep craving.
One time, he caught you mixing chocolate sauce and soup together in the middle of the night. Giyu was just standing in the doorframe, looking utterly defeated and distraught at your actions.
“I love you, but can you stop poisoning our baby? I want it coming out of you alive.”
Mood swings
Giyu feels like he’s the reason you feel upset so suddenly. Perhaps he should’ve cleaned the house more, or finally finish building that crib. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so angry so randomly. He still is quite surprised how quickly your emotions can change from happy to sobbing about the cuteness of the teddybear Giyu brought home for the baby. It’s confusing.
He’ll try to comfort you the best he can, but your husband already struggled to comfort you when you’re not pregnant and had real reasons to cry about, so how is Giyu supposed to comfort you when you sob over the rice being undercooked?
He’ll just awkwardly pull you into a side-hug, rubbing your shoulders gently.
“Do you want chocolate? I heard people eat chocolate when sad. Or do you just want a hug?”
Sickness
You throwing up and being sick is making Giyu sick. While you throw up into the toilet, your husband would hold your hair back while leaning over the sink, trying not to vomit himself. After your morning sickness passes, he still remains crouched over the sink for a moment longer before preparing a ginger tea for the both of you. He’ll lay in bed for a while, cuddling the blanket while sipping on his tea. He looks like a wet, depressed cat, sipping on his tea with a straw while lying on his stomach like that. He mostly recovers after finishing his tea, but sometimes, he gets really sick. You’ll be forced to take care of your nauseous husband who is supposed to be taking care of you right now! How is he supposed to handle watching you birth your child? How can he slay demons but is not able to watch you throw up?
“Love… can you get me another cup of ginger tea? I’m getting sick again…”
Talking to the baby
Giyu didn’t start talking to your baby until you encouraged him to do so. You told him that talking to the baby creates a bond before it’s even born! So, he’ll slowly start conversations with your belly. He’s not sweet-talking to your stomach, but instead awkwardly holding a conversation with it as if he’s speaking to an adult. Giyu’d sit across you on the bed, his hands propped on his thighs, leaning forward slightly.
“So… how is it like inside the womb? When do you want to come out and meet your mom and dad?”
Birth
Giyu was very panicked when you went into labor. He send out a crow to Shinobu immediately and began assembling something similar to a throne made out of towels and blankets. He forced you to sit down and make yourself comfortable while he waiting on the porch to see when the butterfly hashira is coming. His grip was to tight on the fence of the engawa, he accidentally shattered the wood.
He tried to watch you giving birth, but once he saw the head slowly press out of you, he couldn’t anymore. Giyu held your hand in support and let you squeeze as hard as you want, but he was turned away your lower body, facing you instead. Once he heard the baby’s cries fill the room, he snapped his head around in an instant.
Your husband almost fainted when he saw another baby slowly squeeze out of you. Shinobu handed Giyu the first baby, wich was already wrapped in a towel, so she could direct her attention back to the second baby. His head felt dizzy while holding his baby, not able to comprehend that he’s about to be the father of two. He only build one crib, there’s no room for another. Is he even capable of raising two kids? What if they outnumber and team up on him once they grow up? Now he has twice the chance to fail at parenting and become a bad father!
But once your husband held both babies, all his worries washed away. It was like he was in some sort of trance, watching the babies just sleep and squirm around a little. Giyu didn’t even notice how he started crying until his tears fell onto one of his baby’s forehead and started crying.
“Ahh… uhm. How do you calm a baby down? Do you just rock it? Uhm. Help me, please-“
Bonus: How are you supposed to know what they want?
You watch your husband stress out over why the baby is crying for so many times already, and they’re only two weeks old. You caught him talking to your baby multiple times, just straight up asking what they want. He’s slowly starting to get desperate and you can see it.
“You want food?… No? You wanna be held? Maybe… play? Also no? What do you want then?”
Somehow, only you could understand when and what your babies want. Giyu watches in awe as you immediately figure out that the baby wants to be held and fed, and how quickly they calm down afterwards. You’re just magical, truly.
“How do you know? What do you know that I don’t?”
💠
Phew, this took a while to write! Hope you enjoyed this anon! I tried to incorporate the requested things in this ask from another post of mine, but I might’ve forgotten some. Anyways, my posts haven’t gotten much traction lately, so I hope this one’ll do a little better! I’m looking forward to reading all the reposts and comments you leave, I read every single one of them! Just know that they make me smile like an idiot <3
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!
Take care of yourselves <3
Note: Over 200 Notes!! Tysm!! <33
— I’d like to credit my cat as a co-author and professional purrer.
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beenbaanbuun · 10 months
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best girl - yunho & mingi
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words - 8.8k
genre - smut/fluff/angst if you squint
warnings - sub!reader, dom!yunho, dom!switch!mingi, chubby!reader, insecure!reader, mentions of mxm, oral (f!recieving), brief anal play, no protection, fingering, big dick!yunho, brief exhibitionism, making out, spanking, biting, light degradation (if you squint), praise, pet names (pipsqueek, sugarplum, darling, baby, puppy, our girl, best girl, pretty girl, a lot of variations on the word girl) cum eating, finger sucking (mxm), aftercare, discussions of feelings, everyone is an idiot, mingi and yunho are hopelessly in love, reader is too
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You rolled your eyes and leaned over until your head was pressed against the damp wood of the table in the dark corner of the bar. They told you they were going to get drinks, Mingi pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he promised they’d be back in a minute. You checked your phone; it had been 15.
As you sat and watched them fawn over the girl in between them, you couldn’t help but feel resentment bubbling up inside of you. Resentment towards yourself for even agreeing to the night out, even though you desperately needed it. Resentment towards the gorgeous woman who was taking up all of your friends’ attention, disliking her despite her clearly deserving their attention more than you. Most importantly, though, resentment towards your friends; the two men who had looked at you with pity in their eyes when you showed up at their doorstep with tears in your eyes after yet another tinder date never showed up. It was their idea to come out and let your hair down a little and yet it was also them who had abandoned you to flirt with someone who was the antithesis of you.
Your eyes flashed over her body, causing your unwarranted hatred to flare up even more. Her green dress wasn’t too dissimilar to yours, except the way it clung to her body was tasteful and didn’t make her look the same way you felt you did. Her hair was scraped back into a high pony so elegantly that you were positive that she’d spent hours placing each individual hair in its exact position, whereas yours lay messily upon your shoulders. Her toned thighs were crossed, letting her dress ride up just the right amount so that she showed just enough for it it still be classed as ‘lady-like’, whatever the fuck that meant. You glanced down at your own thighs that had flattened against the leather of the booth you’d secluded yourself in. You poked one of them, making the flesh jiggle a little. You bet her legs didn’t jiggle like that…
You couldn’t even rip your eyes away from your legs as Yunho's comforting voice rang through your brain. “Looking at it like that won’t change anything,” he’d told you when he caught yourself staring at your body in his bedroom mirror one time, “in fact, nothing is going to change until you learn to love yourself for who you are. i’ve told you that a million times, pipsqueek, yet you never listen.” You remembered the way he wrapped his arms around you in a warm back hug before telling you just how much he loved how ‘soft’ you were.
He can’t have loved it that much if the girl he was chasing now looked like you but in a smaller size. You bet she wasn’t ‘soft’.
“Someone’s deep in thought,” a familiar deep voice said, stopping your spiral from going any further. You never took your eyes away from your thighs as he unceremoniously sat down on the plush seat beside you. You felt your stomach churn as the motion made the skin on your thighs ripple. “Something interesting down there?” He added as he leaned and followed your gaze.
The only thing that made you feel more sick than you seeing your thighs right now was Mingi seeing them. the way the skin was pulled taught, stretched and contorted as it tried to hold all of your flesh inside of it. Usually you wouldn’t mind but tonight?
Tonight you couldn’t bear it.
“Go back to your little girlfriend over there,” you muttered as you pulled your dress further down your legs to hide your shame, “I'm fine on my own.”
Mingi made a sound of disagreement as he placed a large hand over your own, stopping you from gripping at your hemline like a Victorian woman trying to keep her decency. He leaned in close, dropping his head onto your shoulder like he so often had in the past. most of the time it was when he needed comfort, but right now you suspected that he knew it was the opposite.
“And leave you here to have a meltdown on your own?” he shook his head, his short, spiked-up hair tickling your neck, “no shot, sugarplum. I'm staying here until you tell me exactly why you were trying to make your thighs explode with your mind.
The joke would’ve usually gotten a laugh out of you, but your silence was just further confirmation that you were completely out of it. Mingi didn’t like that.
“Besides, she’s cool but she’s nothing compared to you, huh?” he poked your side with the hand he didn’t have laced with your own. Again, it was an action that should’ve had you giggling and playfully pushing him away, but all he was met with was yet another worrying silence.
Fuck, Mingi was bad at stuff like this. Always had been, really. Of course he was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t secretly messaging Yunho behind your back for advice. The older of the two always knew what to say, whereas all Mingi ever had to offer was a pat on the head and a quiet mutter of ‘shh, it’ll be okay’. It was good enough to calm you down for a while, but Yunho was the one with the magic words that could pull you out of whatever headspace you’d found yourself in.
In fact, it was Yunho that had noticed you from the other side of the bar. The dim lights concealed your facial expression, but he didn’t need to see your face to know that you weren’t okay. Your sunken shoulders paired with your head that was hanging low did a good enough job of letting him know you needed them. Clearly, you were zoned out, which was never good, and Yunho couldn’t help but feel his heart stop for half a second when he saw you move your hand to harshly poke at something under the table.
Poor Mingi was mid-conversation with Jemma when Yunho thwacked his shoulder and gestured over to you with his head. The blonde’s words were cut short when he shifted his gaze over to where Yunho was looking, a worried pout forming on his plush lips. his eyes flickered between you and Yunho in a silent conversation, quietly deciding on the best course of action. Only seconds passed before Mingi was nodding and placing his glass down on the bar. He shot a quick wink at Jemma before taking a few steps towards you.
“See you another time,” he shouted over the music, “I think we left our girl on her own for too long.” He gestured at you before giving Jemma a look that was filled with nothing but sympathy for you. The woman simply nodded, sharing a pretty smile with him.
“Go make her feel loved, pretty boy,” she giggled, “you really shouldn’t be leaving such a gorgeous girl unattended, y’know!”
Mingi just laughed before spinning round and going to sit by your side.
Yunho didn’t keep the conversation with Jemma going, which she didn’t seem to mind. She watched him with a soft smile for a few seconds, taking note of the worry etched onto his expression as he stared you down from his seat. His jaw was tightly clenched, the muscles flexing every so often as he studied what was happening in front of him. When Jemma said goodbye, he barely even responded, simply nodding and wishing her a good night before returning full focus back to you.
You didn’t realise Yunho had seen the way you tried to pull your skirt down, only for Mingi to stop you, or the way you flinched when Mingi tried to cheer you up by tickling your side. It didn’t even cross your mind that he might have noticed the way you looked like you were about to throw up when Mingi threw his gangly arm around your middle to tug you closer to him. If you did, perhaps you would’ve made more of an effort to hide how you were feeling. Maybe if you did, there wouldn’t currently be a soft hand grazing against your chin, finally lifting your gaze up from where it rested upon your thighs.
It guided your eyes up until they landed on Yunho's face, jaw set in stone and eyes equal parts worried and upset. his fluffy brown hair rested gently upon his forehead, which you could tell was creased with concern despite it being hidden. You gulped as he held your gaze for what felt like hours, although it was probably only seconds, his hand never leaving your chin once.
“I think you’re ready to go,” he said firmly. there was no room to argue, although Yunho knew you too well to assume that you wouldn’t at least try and get a word in.
“What about your lady friend?” your voice was barely audible above the bass that was buzzing through the air, “aren’t you taking her home?”
Yunho shook his head.
“We’re taking you home, instead.”
Gentle patterns were traced along your jawline by his thumb, the appendage dancing along your soft skin in an attempt to distract your mind from whatever it was distracted by. It only partially worked. The other half of your brain was desperate to remind you that you did not, in fact, have a jawline to trace. Your face was just as ‘soft’ as the rest of you.
“You know what I mean, Yunho,” you mutter, finally breaking eye contact with him, eyes moving down to his chest. It was as low as they could go with his fingers still wrapped around your jaw. He simply squeezed tighter, giving your face a quick jolt, and your eyes were back on his.
“So do you, pipsqueek,” he leaned in close, not even breaking eye contact with you as he gestured for Mingi to stand up and grab your things. Your breath hitched as he shifted his hand slightly to let his finger play with your bottom lip. “Don’t think I don't know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. Clearly, someone hasn’t been listening to me all those times I told you you were beautiful.” He sighed, as though he was disappointed. “Guess we'll just have to prove it to you, hm?”
There was no reply from you, not that there needed to be. There really was nothing to be said this time. No room to bite back or cause trouble. Yunho clearly understood that you had nothing more to say, a smirk resting on his lips.
“Come on then, my gorgeous girl,” he whispered as he guided you up and out of the seat using nothing more than the grip he had on your face, “let me and Mingi take care of you, huh? Let us show you just how pretty we think you are. Because we really, really do… don’t we Mingi?”
“Of course, we do,” Mingi’s deep voice responded, his warm hand landing on the small of your back, “I don’t know about Yunho, but I think you’re the prettiest creature to walk this earth…”
Yunho finally let go of your jaw, letting you lift your hand to massage the sore muscles. Your delicate fingers prodded at your plush cheeks, which felt a thousand degrees hotter than what should’ve been normal, as you watched Yunho pull out his phone to order an Uber to their apartment. Somewhere that you frequented regularly, and yet for the first time like this.
That's when it really sunk in that tonight you weren’t just their best friend, but their girl of choice. Of course, you’d heard many tales about the girls they’d take back to their apartment and share between them. They’d carefully select them before buttering them up with their silver tongues until finally, they’d take her back to the ‘chad pad’, as Mingi had cheesily nicknamed it, and giving her the night of her life. Time after time you'd been told about their escapades, and time after time you wished someone would take care of you in a similar way.
Scenes played over in the back of your mind. Yunho teasing Mingi for his ‘love of being suffocated’, although you couldn’t quite work out what that meant. Mingi giggling as he jokingly scolded Yunho for being ‘too bossy’. You gulped nervously at the prospect.
But the longer you pondered your situation, the more you couldn’t help but feel bad for the other girl. They were clearly getting somewhere with her, yet they threw it all away in seconds, and for what? To comfort you? With Yunho’s eyes scanning you like you were a priceless diamond, and Mingi’s hand rubbing circles on your back, only to dip down and cop a feel every few seconds, you’d be stupid to think that was the only thing on their mind. Maybe they lost their chance with the pretty one when they left her so they could look after you. Maybe they just realised they were missing out so they were settling for second best.
Yeah, that must be it.
Second best…
“You’re thinking,” Mingi grumbled in your ear before placing a quick kiss to your cheek, “stop it.”
“I can't not think, mingi,” you muttered back. Although you were trying desperately to look anywhere but them, there was no way you could miss the way Yunho cocked a brow at you.
“Then think about all the things we’re going to make you feel when we get back to ours,” he said, bringing up a finger to tap at your forehead, “rather than thinking about whatever useless thing it is that has your face all screwed up like that.”
“It's not useless.”
“It must be if it has you as tense as this, sugarplum,” Mingi pressed a quick kiss to your head, as his hand gave a firm squeeze to your ass. It was a warning. “I know yunho has talked to you about not listening to your brain, so you’d better switch it off, okay? Whatever you’re telling yourself is wrong.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but a simple look from Yunho, and a light swat to the ass from Mingi shut you up.
“Good girl,” Yunho smiled at you. It was too sweet, too Yunho, for you to do anything but preen. Even without the tension that was rising between you, you’d always loved to be praised by him. “Uber's almost here, Mingi. Stop groping our girl before you can’t stop. I know how you get and I don't want to make yet another uber driver uncomfortable.”
You giggled at that, getting another soft smile from Yunho in return. It was nice. Familiar. It reminded you that even behind the bedroom eyes, your best friend was still there to keep you safe and happy. And although Mingi was behind you, barely managing to peel himself away from you, you knew he was the same old mingi too. The way that he smiled against your neck, just like he did when you were protecting him from your other friend, Wooyoung’s, bullying told you that much.
“You try tearing yourself away from our girl, Yunho,” Mingi gave your ass another hard squeeze before letting his hand come down on it harshly. You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as he began to massage it again. “Its so fucking difficult, dude.” Mingu pressed his face into your neck and inhaled your scent with a groan, “you smell like home, babe,” he kissed the soft skin, “fucking hell, i can’t believe we’ve waited this long.”
A big hand carded through your hair as Yunho moved it to give Mingi better access to your neck. His fingers gently massaged your scalp as Mingi practically made out with your neck. The slurping sounds he was making just below your ear were obscene, but it was offset by the familiarly loving look that Yunho was giving you.
“I know, mingi,” he said, never once breaking eye contact with you, “Too long if you ask me. Our girl doesn’t realise just how beautiful we think she is, huh? Well just you wait, darling. The moment we step through our front door, we’re going to make sure you never forget again.”
And with that, he tugged you away from Mingi, who let out the most pathetic whine you think you’d ever heard, and guided you to the exit where the car was waiting. You checked behind you to see if Mingi was following. He winked at you in return.
Once you’d reached the car, Yunho held the door open for you. “Ladies first,” he gestured for you to get in, to which you rolled your eyes before sliding onto the leather seats. You were about to scoot all the way across, expecting one of them to get in the front like usual, but Yunho just shook his head, “in the middle, darling. Leave some space for the rest of us, huh?”
He slid in himself, closing his door as the one to the other side of you opened. Mingi dropped into the car and shut the door himself, quickly making himself comfortable with a hand high up your thigh. Yunho gave a disapproving tut to him, before doing the exact same himself.
The way the warmth of their hands spread over your soft skin made your heart skip a beat. The gentle kneading of Mingi’s palm compared to the sturdy grasp of Yunho’s was enough to send your brain into a dizzy haze, only made worse when Mingi began to pull your thigh closer to his.
The cold aircon blasting out of the central fan hit the wet patch on your panties directly, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath. Yunho chuckled to the right of you, copying mingi and making your legs spread even wider. Your dress was pushed up by your thighs, now resting at the point where the fleshy limbs joined your hips. You prayed to anything that would listen that the driver wouldn’t look back and see you in this state; sat between your two best friends, legs spread wide open, white underwear almost made see through with your sticky desire. The thought alone had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“You okay, baby?” Mingi asked, shifting his hand so that his pinky was just barely brushing against your panties, “you don’t look so good.”
God you wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face.
“Yeah, pipsqueek,” Yunho added as he slipped your panties to the side, dipping the tip of his finger into the gooey mess that was currently your pussy. There was a moan on the tip of your tongue as his finger penetrated your hole, but he quickly removed it and let your panties fall back into place, “Wait, I think you have something on your lip. Hold on a second~”
Before you could register his words, a wet finger was tracing your bottom lip, smearing your own juices across your mouth.
“That's funny, it looks like cream,” Mingi snickered, “lick it up, baby.”
You did as he said, pushing your tongue out and collecting your wetness from your bottom lip. You shuddered at the filth of it all.
“Does it taste sweet, darling?” Yunho fluttered his eyelashes, trying his hardest to resemble the picture of innocence.
“I bet it does,” Mingi replied, “bet it tastes so fucking delicious, huh? Wish i could just stick my face right in there, baby, slurp up all that cream that’s just… spilling out.”
You were thankful when the Uber swiftly came to a stop at the side of the road, practically bending over yunho yourself to grab at the handle. He chuckled, petting your hair with his still soiled fingers as he thanked the driver. Mingi said much of the same as he got out his own side and made his way round to yours. He watched with intense eyes as you stumbled onto the pavement, gripping onto Yunho for balance.
Your face made you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Yunho couldn’t help but lean down to steal a kiss. You were almost taken aback for a second, remembering how Yunho and Mingi would express that they didn’t like to kiss the women that they took home. “Too romantic,” Mingi had explained one time, “they come to us for a good time, not for the whole ‘love’ experience, y’know?” At the time you’d understood, just as you thought you’d understood what tonight was. As your best friend licked into your mouth, you realised that maybe you were mistaken.
You pushed at his chest, and he stopped within an instant. There were words on your tongue, but when you lay eyes on him, they disappeared. Flushed cheeks, plump lips and eyes that looked like they were 90% pupil. That's all it took for you to leap right in with both feet. Fuck it, you decided as you wrapped your arms around his neck, if love is what they want, then love is what they’d get. It's not like you hadn’t been shamefully dreaming about it for years. kissing them, holding them, fucking them.
Of course there was the part of your brain that told you to stop before you went head first into something you weren’t quite sure you understood.
You laughed against Yunho's mouth as you told the voice to shut up.
“What?” He mumbled, barely pulling away before going back in for more. It was a couple more seconds before you pulled away yourself.
“I just can’t believe I'm listening to mingi for once,” you replied. There was a scoff from behind you as the short haired main placed himself at your rear once more. A hot tongue licked a stripe up your neck.
“What's that supposed to mean, brat?” mingi nipped at your earlobe.
You gasped into the kiss, briefly pulling away once more.
“M’turning my brain off,” you giggle into the cold night air, “whatever happens, happens, right?”
You delved right back into the kiss, opening your mouth to allow Yunho's prying tongue acces. He explored your cavern, licking at everything he could reach before letting his tongue clash with yours. Your wet muscles tangled with one another, dancing an intricate jive between your lips, all whilst Mingi’s was tracing patterns upon your collarbones.
“But I know what’s going to happen, sugarplum,” he whispered against your skin, “we’re going to take you upstairs,” he bit into your shoulder making you squeal into the kiss you were still sharing with Yunho, “we’re going to make you feel every bit as beautiful as we know you are,” he sucked at the very same bit of skin his teeth had just abused, releasing it a second later with a ‘pop’, “and then, my pretty little thing, we’re going to make you our girl… not that you haven’t always been,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the same spot.
“And to think, we’ve been fucking all these other girls knowing that nothing would be as good as you, baby. They were all pretty, of course, but none of them even got close to you. None of them made me as hard as you do, or made my heart beat as quickly,” another kiss, “and Yunho would never even dream of kissing anyone that isn’t you, baby. You're special to us, hm? One of a kind,” he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged, pulling you away from the kiss. A string of spit connected your mouth with Yunho’s, neither of you making a move to break it.
“Do you feel the same?” Yunho panted out, “Do you want us just as much as we want you, darling? Do you want to be our special girl, huh? Ours to have and hold and love as we please?” you nodded as well as you could with mingi gripping your hair. He gripped it tighter for a moment or two, stilling your movements.
“Words, baby.”
“Yes,” you whimpered.
“Good,” Mingi let go and used the same hand to go fishing in the pocket of his trousers. You heard the jingling of keys as he pulled them out and passed them over to Yunho with a smile. “You've had your fun, dude,” he smirked as he placed his hand on your ass once again, “I want to play.”
“So immature,” Yunho rolled his eyes before leading the two of you inside the building and to the elevator, “seriously, I can't make out with my darling for five minutes without you getting jealous and needing to feel her up,” the elevator dinged and the doors opened. the three of you stepped inside. “you know her ass will still be there if you let go of it for two seconds, right?”
Mingi squeezed it in his huge palm.
“I don't want to let go long enough to find out,” he smacked it softly, grunting as your flesh jiggled against his already throbbing dick. “Just feels like it belongs in my hands, y’know? Like my own personal stress ball.”
Yunho sighed as the elevator stopped. He was the first out, going immediately to unlock the door and let the two of you tumble inside. Mingi guided you straight to his bedroom, Yunho following moments after, getting there just in time to see Mingi fall into the bed and position himself with his head resting on his pillow.
He looked like a god lying there in that stupid fucking compression shirt that made you stare, and a pair of beige cargo pants that did nothing to disguise the sheer size of his bulge. The cocky smirk he wore as he watched you scan him up and down was almost insufferably hot. You wanted him to make you his in every way that mattered. You wanted him to throw you around and take you however he wanted. Judging by Yunho's penchant for bossing you around, though, you guessed that was more his thing in the bedroom. Mingi just seemed to want one thing and one thing only: his hands on your ass and his face in your pussy.
“Don’t keep him waiting, darling,” Yunho said as he strolled past you towards the chair that sat facing the bed. He dropped down onto it, legs spread as he let himself fully relax. “Don’t you think he’s been patient enough? I know it might not seem like it, but you have no idea how much restraint hes had tonight,” Yunho smirked, “if he had it his way, you never would’ve left our apartment in that tight fucking dress. He would’ve been face deep in your cunt the moment you showed up at our doorstep, darling. I'm almost surprised he wasn’t…”
Mingi just chuckled from his spot on the bed before holding a hand out to you. You took it, not expecting to be yanked towards him the next second. The moment you were close enough, his big hands were everywhere, pulling you in every direction until seconds later, you too were on the bed, sitting on his chest with your knees either side of his head. You couldn’t hide the look of surprise when he hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, tugging it to the side so he could get a full viewing of your wet pussy. He groaned at the sight, tossing his head back in pleasure as if the sight of it alone could make him cum.
“God,” he grunted, slipping a finger inside before pulling it out and popping it into his mouth, “fuck, baby. going to eat you until I'm full, okay? Going to devour you like a fucking michelin star meal, and then when Yunho’s had his turn with you, I’m going to go back for seconds.”
Yunho let out a hearty chuckle as he watched his best friend struggle to contain himself. It seemed to be having an effect on you too. Yunho wasn’t sure whether or not you’d even noticed your hips gently rocking against Mingi's chest. He assumed not.
“Baby, take your dress off,'' Mingi grunted, watching as you complied right away, ripping the soft material over your head. There was no time to feel self conscious, both men letting out a guttural groan at the sight of you, reveling in the fact that they finally had you to themselves, naked and ready for them to take care of. The cold air of the room made your nipples perk up, Mingo briefly lifting a hand up to brush against your sensitive nub, “and panties too, okay? Don’t want anything in between me and my dinner, y’know?”
You giggled but did as he said, slipping off of him for just a second or two so you could pull them off completely. You placed them into his waiting palm, only for him to screw them up and chuck them at Yunho. The man in the chair caught them with ease, something that was so incredibly hot to you, before lifting them up to his nose and taking a long, dragged-out sniff. Your jaw dropped in shock, but you didn’t have long to dwell on what had just happened. Not when mingi was pawing at your thigh, trying to get you back into position.
You slid back to where you were previously, bare leaking pussy looking him dead in the eyes. He had a grin like a shark about to go in for the kill, but his eyes were glazed over with something that could only be described as pure joy.
“Sit,” he commanded.
You did, lowering yourself gently onto his chest, thighs aching as you used them to hold the majority of your weight.
“No,” he responded, “on my fucking face, baby.”
You blushed, shifting a little so you were hovering with your core just a few inches above his face.
“Baby, if I have to tell you again I won’t be very happy,” his hands landed on your hips, “fucking,” he tugged you down sharply until your clit was brushing against his nose gently, “sit.”
He pulled you down again onto his open mouth, his tongue immediately probing your hole and making you let out what could only be described as a pornographic moan. His nose was now firmly pressed against your clit, prodding it at a new angle every time he shifted his head.
He moaned, the action sending shivers down your spine and your hand shot down to grip at his hair. Your fingers tugged at his bleached hair, pulling a prolonged groan from his plush lips as his tongue played with your dripping hole. You could feel the vibrations deep within you, causing a shiver to run freely down your spine. It felt perfect, the way he mouthed at you like you were the best meal he was ever going to have. The way he tasted you, alternating from forcing his tongue deep inside of your hole to slurping up your juices and making the most obscene, filthy sounds you think you'd ever heard. Add that to the fact that you could feel Yunho’s eyes running up and down your naked body, and you were almost ready to cum within 20 seconds of taking your seat.
“How’s she taste, Mingi?” the brunette asked from his seat, “as good as you’d been hoping? Or better?” You could hear the laughter in his voice as he quizzed your best friend. Part of you was expecting Mingi to pull away to answer, but instead he just mumbled a few incoherent words directly into your pussy before shifting his face slightly to allow his tongue to play with your clit. Yunho chuckled as you gasped at the new sensation. “Dude, you really need to learn to stop talking with your mouth full.”
But Mingi didn't pull away to repeat himself, simply letting himself indulge in his meal. In you. Lips wrapping around your clit, suckling at the bud harshly until you were letting out sharp little gasps and holding onto his hair for dear life. Sometimes he’d let his teeth scrape against you, making you whine over and over again. Then he’d circle the delicate bud with his tongue, soothing it briefly before starting the process all over again.
Suck, nip, soothe, repeat.
It was all getting to be too much. You hadn't even noticed when Yunho stood from the seat and made the short walk over to the bed. You hadn't noticed him shedding his loose white shirt, nor had you noticed him taking a seat next to you on the bed. The sound of him spitting onto his hand never registered, nor did the deep hum of satisfaction when he noticed that you were starting to grind slightly against Mingi’s face. In fact, it wasn’t until a wet digit began to circle your puckered hole that you even realised just how much had happened whilst you lost yourself in a dizzy haze of pleasure.
You cried out when you felt the digit pressing into you, pushing past the resisting ring of muscle and delving deep inside of you. That alone was enough to make you topple forwards, Mingi’s hands catching you before you could completely collapse against him. His tongue worked you through the orgasm, somehow working in perfect sync with Yunho’s finger. If you werent already feeling so fucked out, you probably wouldve marvelled at just how well practiced they seemed working as one unit. That was a thought for when you were fully lucid, though. Not for when you were cumming on your best friends tongue whilst your other best friend played with your tight asshole like it was nothing.
It felt good. Fuck, it felt damn near perfect, but you were quickly moving into the territory of overstimulation. Yunho seemed to notice, the keen eye he always kept on you working to his advantage yet again as he let his finger slide out of you and he pulled you off of Mingi’s mouth with a pop. The blonde let out a whine of complaint that was quickly silenced when he saw the blissed out look on your face as Yunho placed you gently down beside Mingi on the mattress. His sorrowful pout quickly turned into a smirk as he realised that he was the one to put you in such a state.
“One orgasm and she’s already gone dumb,” Yunho chuckled as he stood once more, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants drop to the floor. Again, a more lucid you would’ve balked at his lack of boxers, but instead all you could do was whimper as you saw the sheer size of him. It was easily the biggest dick you’d ever seen, let alone had anywhere close to you. The smug look on Yunho’s face let you know that he was aware of that fact though. “Got to be a record, right?”
“It definitely is,” Mingi’s lips were wet as he spoke, but he never bothered to wipe it away. You blushed at the thought of him wearing you on his face. He smiled, brushing a finger up against your heated cheek. “I think it's a sign.”
“A sign of what?” Yunho crawled back onto the bed, letting himself sit back on his ankles as he just stared. Eyes scanned you up and down, just as they were when he watched you ride Mingi’s face, mapping every single detail of your body. You wondered whether he did that to every girl they brought into their beds, or just you. Perhaps you were just delusional, but you couldn't help that your mind settled on the latter.
“That she’s made for us,” Mingi answered, sounding as though he was more sure of that fact than anything else in the world, “I mean come on, dude, look at her! Have you ever seen a more perfect sight?”
Yunho hummed in contemplation, acting as though he was thinking deeply about the matter of whether you were ‘made for them’ or not. As he considered, his hands joined his eyes in mapping out your body, trailing their way lightly from your ankles to your calves, stopping briefly at your thighs to massage them back to life, and then moving on to your hips. His fingertips sank into the plush flesh and he couldn’t help but let his usual warm smile make its way onto his face.
“I think you’re right, Mingi,” he said as he rubbed gentle circles into your skin, “I don't think I’ve ever seen a sight as beautiful as this one. Our little pipsqueak, lay out on your bed just for us. It just feels right.”
“I’ve lay here plenty of times,” you muttered, breaking up the conversation they were having over your head. Your brain was starting to fight through the fog that Mingi’s tongue and Yunho’s finger had somehow managed to bring upon it. Almost coherent thoughts were fighting their way to the forefront of your brain, although you had no doubt Yunho would fuck them away again in just a moments time. “And I’m pretty sure I've been naked in this bed too…”
Both men laughed wholeheartedly at the memory. You, passed out drunk in Mingi’s bed as the two men tried to get you changed into something better to sleep in. Stripping you had been the easy part. For some reason - one that you never planned on sharing - you’d been more than willing to take off each and every item of clothing once the two of you had dragged you away from the festivities in their living room. The two were more than respectful of your nude form, only sneaking glances every once in a while as they practically fought you to get you dressed into something suitable to sleep in. Apparently, not that you could remember it all too well, you’d been adamant on remaining naked and it was only when Mingi offered to buy you that pretty skirt you’d been eyeing up for weeks that you agreed to wear the boxers and the sweater that were being offered to you.
“This is different, baby,” Mingi whispered as he traced your lips with his fingers, “you were drunk then. Our priority was taking care of you and making sure that our best friend was okay. Tonight, our priority is fucking you into this mattress and making sure that our girl can’t walk straight tomorrow. It's all about context, baby.”
“So you’re saying you didn't find me hot?”
Both of them chuckled.
“You were downright adorable, but as for hot? We wouldn’t know, darling,” Yunho began to move his hands again, bringing them up to your breasts to massage them gently in his hands, “our priority was making sure you didn't throw up onto Mingi’s bed. We took a little bit of a break from fantasizing about fucking your brains out.”
“And that's all it was,” Mingi’s hand joined Yunho’s in caressing your body. Although his moved straight down to your core, dipping a finger into the wet mess he’d left there. He chuckled at the way your jaw dropped slightly, breath hitching as he let one of his long fingers slip inside of you. It curled against your velvety walls, stroking them gently. “I promise that the moment you woke up in the morning with your pouty lips and your messy hair, I went straight back to wanting you.”
“S-straight back?” You stuttered as he slipped another finger in. “I doubt that.”
Yunho flicked their thumbs over your pebbled nipples, grinning at the way you arched your back a little.
“Of course, baby! Are you kidding?” The fingers inside you picked up their pace, scissoring slightly to stretch you out. “Morning sex with you would be so fucking hot. You’re so soft and pliant when you first wake up. I just know you’d be whimpering so sweet while we manhandle you and take you apart piece by piece.”
“She’s soft and pliant all the time, Mingi. One compliment and she’s practically a fucking lap dog” Yunho took his hands away from your tits. A pathetic - even by your own admission - whine forced its way up your throat, to which Yungho replied with a chuckle. “She even cries like one.”
A third finger was pressed to your entrance, slipping inside of you with a pleasant stretch. It felt like almost too much, but one look at Yunho’s member that rested heavy between his legs had you swallowing any complaints you had. If you were going to take him like you so desperately wanted to, you'd need the prep. You’d need to be stretched out by Mingi’s fingers. As daunting as the prospect of it all was, you were a big girl.
You could take it.
You lay there, bones melting to nothing as you tried your hardest to relax into the stretch. Even if Mingi’s fingers weren’t particularly thick, they were long, and the way he was spreading them within you, pushing at your gummy walls, had you seeing stars. You gripped his wrist as he ground the heel of his hand into you, bringing you hurtling towards your second orgasm as if you hadn’t come down from your first just minutes before.
“Fuck, Mingi,” you gasped, “going to make me cum again.”
Your thighs were desperately trying to close around Mingi’s hand, but Yunho seemed to have other ideas. He grasped at them, pushing them even further apart and leaning down so his face was directly across from where Mingi was knuckle deep within you. He groaned at the sight, cock jumping slightly in anticipation. God, he wanted to be inside of you so bad.
The sound you made as you came was something you'd never heard from your own mouth before. It was loud and long and had the two boys practically drooling over you as you writhed around under their large hands and sultry gazes. Yunho's hands stopped you from wriggling away from them as Mingi once again pushed you to the brink of overstimulation before drawing his hand back and lazily licking his fingers clean.
It was quite possibly the filthiest thing you’d ever seen. you couldn’t tear your eyes away. His thick tongue darted out of his mouth to lap at the sticky substance that coated his digits before drawing back into his mouth with a thick string of arousal still connected. He groaned, eyes flickering shut as if it was the best fucking meal he’d ever tasted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.
“Give me a taste,'' Yunho brought your attention back to him within seconds. His hands let go of your thighs, moving until they were either side of your head and his toned chest lay just above your head. You briefly admired his pecs until a moan drew your gaze back up to his mouth. his own lips were wrapped around Mingi’s middle and ring finger, cheeks hollowed out as he sucked your juices from them. Your jaw dropped as you watched him give a pretty convincing blowjob to the fingers that were plunged deep into his mouth. he pulled back, breathing heavily. “Holy fuck, puppy. What do you eat to make your pussy taste so sweet, huh?”
The fact that he’d called you puppy didn’t go unnoticed, but you were too dazed to comment. Panting like a bitch in heat as he grinned down at you, a new sheen over his lips to match mingi’s. It suited him just as much, you realised.
“Do you think you’ll taste just as sweet when we’re mixed together?” he asked as he lined himself up with your hole. He thrusted into you just a little, enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head, before slowly drawing out again and repeating the process. “I think you will, but we’ll have to wait for Mingi to give the final verdict, yeah? he’s really into the clean up process, puppy.”
You were too fucked out to work out what Yunho meant, although you had a feeling it had to do with the blonde's seemingly voracious appetite.
Mingi tugged his finger out of his mouth with a pop.
“Nothing could tarnish the way she tastes,” he groaned as Yunho continued to thrust into you, gradually getting deeper and deeper each time he pushed into you, “even with your gross seed dripping out of her.”
Yunho rolled his eyes at Mingi as he bottomed out. you couldn’t help but tense up at the sensation of being so overwhelmingly full. It felt silly, but you were shocked at just how much bigger he was than the three fingers you came around moments prior. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix as his pelvis came to a stop against yours. He was still for a few seconds, eyes carefully studying your screwed up face for a sigh that he could begin. It took a few seconds for the crinkles in your forehead to flatten out, but once they did, he drew his hips back in one long stroke and began to thrust.
“You fucking love sucking me off,” Yunho spat back as his hips rocked into you at a harsh pace. Sharp slaps echoed around the room each time his hips came into contact with yours. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your body went completely limp against the wrinkled-up sheets.
“I have an oral fixation, dude,” Mingi shuffled closer so he could study your face a little closer. The way your lips parted, tiny gasps coming out with each thrust. The way your eyes were spaced out, staring into thin air as you tried desperately to hang on to reality. He smirked as you whined when Yunho thrusted into you particularly hard, “me sucking you off every once in a blue moon has nothing to do with whether I like the taste of your cum or not.”
And with that, he put his lips against yours, tongue immediately taking the opportunity to explore your open mouth. Your fingers, which were desperately grasping at the sheets, flew up to the back of his head. They tangled themselves in his short locks, holding him tightly against you as he spread the taste of yourself against your mouth.
It was messy, all tongue and teeth, but you expected nothing else from Mingi. He licked at your mouth the same way he did your pussy, seeming to gather your spit onto his tongue, devouring each and every drop he could gather. You couldn’t help but let your jaw go slack, allowing him full access to your mouth. Something that had him letting out a low moan of his own.
“You’re so fucking perfect, baby,” he mumbled as he pulled away for a second, almost immediately diving back in for more. You had no time to bask in the praise before you felt a thumb pressing against your already abused clit. You gasped into Mingi’s mouth and he smiled against your open mouth. “Such a perfect girl, huh? So reactive for us.”
“Damn right she is,” Yunho continued with the same punishing pace, although his movements were getting a little sloppy. You could tell he was close, and as he circled your overstimulated clit, you could tell that you were too. Three was a lot for you, but with your two boys, it felt so natural. They pulled them out of you with ease, sending you to an unfamiliar headspace with each one. “She's our perfect girl. always fucking has been.”
“Of course she has been,” Mingi licked a stripe up your neck, loving the way it made you squirm, “our gorgeous, clueless girl. No idea just how perfect her pretty little body is.”
“Fucking shame that you are so clueless, puppy,” Yunho leant down, breathing heavy in your ears as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. The shapes he was rubbing into your clit were desperate as he tried to pull your orgasm out of you before he spilled himself inside of you, “you had no clue that your two big, bad best friends wanted nothing more than to love you, did you?”
You whined as Mingi bit into the flesh of your shoulder. It was the final push you needed to tip you over the edge. Your head was spinning as Yunho worked you through it, hips coming to a stop as he filled you up with his cum.
“Fucking perfect,” he muttered, voice barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears.
You didn’t notice when he pulled out, sucking in a sharp breath as he washed his cum flow out of your sopping hole. Just like you didn’t notice when Mingi let out a sad whine at the sight of you being too fucked out for him to ‘clean you up’ in his own special sense of the word. Nor did you notice when Yunho went searching through Mingi’s drawers to find a pack of baby wipes.
You did notice when the cold, wet tissue first made contact with your hot skin. You whined, writhing around in discomfort as Mingi shushed you and pressed a kiss to your temple. Yunho's movements were gentle as he wiped the layer of sweat away before getting out a fresh wipe and focussing on your core. It was sensitive down there, but Mingi’s gentle comfort made it so Yunho could do his job without much upset. That didn't mean that whenever he went within a centimeter of your swollen bud you wouldn’t let out a quiet whimper. Mingi just smiled and kissed your pouted lips to distract from the overstimulation of Yunho wiping a mixture of spit and cum away from your clit.
“We really should get you up, pipsqueek,” the brunette muttered as he flopped back onto the bed, tossing an arm over your waist so naturally that it was like he hadn’t been balls deep in you minutes before, “you always complain about how you’re always too lazy to pee after sex and how you always end up with a UTI.”
“i don’t think i can bear another trip to the store to stock up on cranberry juice,” Mingi giggled in such a Mingi-ish way that the idea of his tongue pressed deep in your pussy felt like little more than one of your many daydreams about him, “it was so embarrassing when we had girls over only to offer them a drink and open the fridge to 4 bottles of cran…”
Yunho laughed wholeheartedly.
“Well I guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he kissed your cheek gently, “not when we have the perfect girl right here.”
“Does this mean no more pretending I'm not jealous when you two are talking about your sexcapades?” you mutter, still only half of your brain working at full speed.
“Only if it means we dont have to hear about any more tinder hook-ups,” mingi responded, “god i fucking hated all of those men who got to touch you before i did.”
You rolled your eyes.
“You guys only have yourselves to blame. I never would’ve gone near those guys had you two not started collecting women like fucking Pokemon first!”
“I guess so,” Yunho muttered, pressing a light kiss to your temple, “but you need to know that none of them were really ours. We just didn't know we were allowed the real thing, so we had to settle.”
You scoffed.
“Real feminist of you, Yunho,” you lightly slapped his chest. Mingi laughed.
“Sorry, darling,” he apologised, “forgot that you're all for the ‘women support women’ thing, even when you're so clearly jealous.”
A comfortable silence fell over the three of you as you held one another. You in the middle with Yunho to your front and Mingi pressed to your back. You didn't miss the way their fingers tangled with one another's atop your hip. You could've mentioned it, but that was for another time.
“What made you flip tonight?” You finally asked, the all-important question dangling for a moment or two like bait. You bit, waiting patiently for the boys to give you the answer.
“You made Yunho mad,” Mingi was the first to speak, “thinking bad about yourself and your body, as if he hasn't spent years trying to talk you out of that sort of behaviour.”
You hummed in response.
“Needed to prove how beautiful we think you are, baby,” Yunho picked up where Mingi left off. “Making you ours in the process was just an added bonus.”
“So you really want me?”
“Always have, baby.”
“Always will.”
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