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inawickedlittletown · 3 days ago

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Who Could Ask You Be Unbroken Or Be Brave Again - BuckTommy (one-shot)

Summary: When Buck figures out that he's pregnant just a few weeks after the break-up, he has to tell Tommy. They talk. Words: 3.1k Notes: Sooooo I actually started writing this last week and I pictured a different fic entirely and yet I like to go where the journey takes me so here we are. Mpreg is a feature, but not like the most important part of this fic, though I know the fandom has taken it and run with it. The title comes from Hozier's To Noise Making Read on Ao3

If it weren’t for Maddie, Buck probably wouldn’t have figured it out. Well, he would have eventually. Probably.

When he was on the cusp of teenagehood, the nurse at school had come in to have a talk with his class. The boys and the girls were separated and Buck remembered watching a badly shot movie. She had passed out a paper to take home at the end, information for their parents. Buck didn’t remember if his parents had even bothered to read it, much less take the advice. As a consequence, when all the rest of the boys in his class got tested, Buck didn’t. Later on, it just didn’t matter because Buck wasn’t having sex with guys so what difference did it make if he was a carrier? Then, when he got together with Tommy, it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

So, he never knew that he could get pregnant.

Not until he was pregnant.

Not until he was leaning over his toilet, knees on the hard floor, stomach empty. Not until he remembered Maddie and the brie he’d baked for her and how when he’d cut a piece of the banana bread earlier the smell of the bananas had made him feel sick.

Not until he managed to make it out of the apartment and to the nearest pharmacy where he stared at the pregnancy tests until finally just grabbing four at random. He was glad the girl at the checkout didn’t say anything.

They all came back positive.

There was no denying it.

In the bathroom, he took off his t-shirt and looked down at his abdomen. There was nothing different about his body, but eventually it would change. He would round out, growing a life in the womb that Buck hadn’t even known he had. Tentatively, he touched his stomach. In that moment he realized that he hadn’t even thought about it before already knowing that he was doing it. He would have the baby. He was going to be a dad.

Tommy had left him — had left them.

He was the other dad.

Buck had to throw up.

Pregnant. He was pregnant. He was housing life, a life created out of him and Tommy…Tommy was gone. He had walked out of Buck’s life without a look back and Buck was once again the one that was left behind except that this time it wasn’t only him. His hand drifted to his abdomen. There was a baby in there.

That was when the tears began anew.

What the hell was he going to do?

Buck had cried for the better part of an hour after Tommy left. Then, he cried on Eddie’s couch and couldn’t even get the words out for why.

“He dumped me,” he’d said eventually. “Tommy dumped me.”

Then, the tears had started again.

He cried when he got home the next morning and immediately he had to talk himself out of calling Tommy.

Eddie had told him to stay busy and keep his mind off of it. To not reach out to Tommy.

So, he focused on making himself dinner that night and after the lasagna was in the oven, he decided he may as well go out and eat all his feelings. Not to mention that he really wanted brownies.

So, he found an outlet. Baking was better than crying. It was better than having to hide his phone from himself so that by the time he found it he’d be over the urge to call or text.

Buck had almost convinced himself that he could keep going and that he wouldn’t cry over Tommy again, but he was crying again. Over Tommy. Over the break up. Over the tiny life that should have brought so much joy to both of them. Not that Buck wasn’t happy…not that the idea of being a dad didn’t excite him. It was just the timing and the circumstances. Tommy wasn’t there with him and Buck…

He needed to tell him.

Tommy needed to know.

Or maybe…maybe Buck could do it on his own. He could love this baby more than enough. Tommy had already made his choice on Buck, why would he come back just because Buck was pregnant. Buck wasn’t enough for him, the future that Buck wanted and that Buck had dangled in front of himself had been shot down without his say and this was not going to change anything, not if Tommy had thought their six months together was some fun and nothing further than that.

A baby was…it was a big commitment. Eighteen years at least and it wasn’t about Buck, but the idea that Tommy might not react well to the news…

But, no, that was unfair. Tommy would at least feel the obligation to his child even if it was detached, even if it was just monetary. He would do right by the baby even if they weren’t together anymore. That…that hurt. It was like a stab right to the chest. This was not the way it was supposed to be.

He sobbed, wiped at his eyes but the tears kept coming. Maybe he didn’t tell him. Maybe he didn’t find out how Tommy would react and…

But no.

If it was the other way around and Tommy found out he was pregnant and didn’t tell Buck, Buck would never forgive him. He had to tell him.

Wiping at the last of his tears, Buck went to the kitchen to grab water.

Four positive tests. He needed to get a doctor’s appointment to confirm and then prenatal vitamins? What else? Was his apartment even an okay place in which to raise a baby? With the stairs and the balcony and how his bedroom wasn’t even really a room. And then there was his job. How long could he keep working before it was too dangerous? Was it already dangerous?

Buck thought about calling Maddie. She was pregnant herself and she could help but the thought of telling her and not Tommy. Of telling anyone but Tommy…

He had to tell him. Buck reached for his phone.

He couldn’t tell him over the phone and the thought of Tommy not picking up his call or leaving him on read or…what if he’d blocked Buck’s number? But no…Tommy wouldn’t do that.

It was a Tuesday and Tommy didn’t usually work on Tuesdays. Unless he’d changed things…unless he’d been called into a fire. It didn’t mean he’d be at home, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

So, he got shoes on, stuffed his phone and wallet in his pocket and grabbed his keys. Grabbed a few loaves out of his fridge for good measure. The remaining brownie pan too.

Buck almost talked himself out of it on the drive over, but then he was pulling into Tommy’s driveway behind his truck. He waited a few more minutes before he got out of the car and started walking to the door. He raised his hand and knocked.

Tommy had given him a key. It was still sitting next to the keys to his apartment. If this went badly, he supposed that he could give the key back. It would really be over, not that it hadn’t before. It was just that a part of Buck had hoped that if given enough time they might find each other again. It was silly and maybe it spoke to how many romcoms he and Tommy had watched together. Now…now he was pregnant and it changed everything.

He knocked again.

Heard movement from inside and then the door opened.

Tommy looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Buck,” he said.

Buck decided to ignore that. “We need to talk,” he said.

“I — yeah, sure.”

Tommy stepped aside and Buck followed him in.

“Do you…do you want a drink?” Tommy asked.

The awkward energy between them killed him. It had never been like this between them before…okay, maybe after Buck messed up their first date, but even then it hadn’t been this. Buck shook his head.

“What is all that?”

“Oh. I, uh, I started baking and…anyway, these are for you.”

Tommy took them and walked them into the kitchen. Buck followed. Nothing had changed since he’d been there last and the thought it might have and that Tommy could have moved on or something. Three weeks…it had really only been three weeks long as that felt.

“What did you want to talk about?” Tommy asked, not even looking at Buck.

How did he say it? Did he just blurt it out? On the drive over nothing had come to mind and Buck had never not known how to just say things except this time it was…it was so much harder.

“Ev—Buck?”

“I — I’m…I have some news.”

“News?”

The words got caught in his throat.

“Buck, is everything alright?”

“I’m going to…pregnant. Maddie’s pregnant.”

“Oh.” Tommy said with a confused chuckle. “You’re becoming an uncle again.”

And a dad.

Buck gulped. “Yeah. I am.”

Tommy still looked confused.

“I found out by accident. They don’t want anyone to know, but I had to tell someone. Don’t say anything.”

“Is that all?” Tommy asked, cautiously.

Buck wanted to shake his head and to tell him it wasn’t only Maddie. It was Buck too.

“We never talked about kids,” he found himself saying instead. “Among other things, but I never asked if you wanted kids. Do you?”

It felt pointed. It felt like Buck was giving himself away. Tommy seemed a little confused.

“Uh…I don’t know,” he settled on. “Never thought I would have any, but it’s not like I don’t like children. I guess I never really thought it was a real option or a deal breaker. Why are we talking about kids?”

“I’m…I don’t know. Just a thought,” Buck said. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad.”

“You want family,” Tommy said. “You'll get another niece or nephew soon.”

“Yeah,” Buck breathed and it took everything in him not to touch his stomach. Not just a niece or nephew, a son or daughter. Tommy’s too.

“Did you…was there anything else?” Tommy asked.

“I — that is—”

“Evan?” Tommy said. “You’re…are you alright?”

He took a breath. “It doesn’t have to change anything,” he said. “I know you don’t want it to. You made that pretty clear. This isn’t like me trapping you or anything. I’m not. I just know that if it were the other way around I’d want to know and I’d want you to tell me. And no one else knows because you should be the first to know even though you kinda broke my heart there and that’s not going away. You know my fridge is full of loaves. I needed an outlet and so I started baking and I can’t seem to stop. I’m—”

“Evan, take a breath,” Tommy said.

Buck did. He took several and when he looked at Tommy again, he found concern in his gaze.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m…well, as it turns out, I’m—” he couldn’t get the words out.

“Are you sick? What’s happening? Evan, are you alright?”

Tommy’s hand reached out to him, but fell short and drew back.

“I’m not sick,” Buck said. “That’s not…I mean, that’s not what I would call this. I’m…Tommy, I’m pregnant.”

Once the words were out, he felt lighter. His hand had drifted back down over his abdomen. Still flat, but for how long? When would he start showing? Hell, Buck didn’t even know how far along he was or anything else.

Tommy was staring at his hand and then his eyes flickered back to Buck’s face.

“Pregnant,” Tommy said.

Buck nodded.

“You’re a carrier. You never said.”

“Yeah…I didn’t know until…until now.”

Tommy inhaled a breath and Buck could see that his mind was spinning, that he maybe didn’t even know what to say or think and Buck…Buck needed to leave. He’d told him, it was what he’d come to do and that was it.

“I just wanted you to know. No obligation. No expectations. Just…that’s what’s happening. I’m pregnant and I’m going to keep it.”

Tommy didn’t say anything.

“I guess now you know. I’ll…I’ll go. See you around, Tommy.”

Buck made it to the door. He was turning the doorknob and trying to pretend that his eyes weren’t filling up with tears when he heard a gentle:

“Wait.”

And then Tommy’s hand was on his wrist and Buck turned.

Tommy’s hand left his wrist but then he was cradling Buck’s face, thumbs wiping away his tears.

“I was scared,” Tommy said.

“Scared? You? But that’s, what is there for you to be scared of? I’m the pregnant one.”

Tommy’s hands dropped from his face. “That,” he said. “You think I can’t be scared in this?” He motioned between them. “That it didn’t freak me out the moment you asked me to move in with you in the same sentence that you said you liked me for my confidence without even—”

Buck watched him. Watched the way that his shoulders were hunched and how he gulped.

“You don’t see me, Evan, and if you don’t see me…the real me and not whoever you’ve made me out to be then this was never going to work. The moment I realized it wasn’t…that it wasn’t. I did this for you and for me. And now—” Tommy’s gaze met Buck’s dead on, “now you’re pregnant.”

“I don’t see you?” Buck asked.

He stepped away from the door. He laughed and turned away from Tommy before he looked back at him.

“I see what you’ve let me see,” Buck said. “I see who you presented yourself to be and if you’re telling me now that you were lying about who you are then…then that’s—”

“It’s not what I’m saying,” Tommy broke in. “I’m saying you put me on some…on some pedestal that I don’t belong on. I’ve hurt people. Abby. Hen. Chim. Hid my sexuality to my own detriment and the detriment of others. I lied and lied and lied and…and it’s—”

Buck reached for him, grabbed his hand and made Tommy look at him. “You did it because you were protecting yourself from a world that wasn’t going to accept you. What I admire is how far you’ve come. What I admire is that you lived through it got to this side of it and can choose to be happy. Except that you don’t think you deserve it. I see you, Tommy.”

“Evan,” Tommy said.

Buck grasped Tommy’s other hand.

“Did you know I hate the way you leave your clothes in piles instead of putting them in your hamper, the way that you always forget to put the cap back on the toothpaste. You never close a cabinet. Some of your jokes are not funny and it shouldn’t have taken six months for you to tell me about Abby. I guess I’m to blame for that too because I didn’t tell you about her either. I hate how you never talked about Gerrard with me, not really. I hate the way you always take Eddie’s side and that the two of you always make fun of me. The first sign of trouble and you run. You’re not perfect, Thomas. But you know what, I love you anyway.”

The silence that fell between them lasted a few beats. They couldn’t look away from each other and there were tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes.

“You scare me,” Tommy said, voice rough. “And I’ve been kicking myself since that night but I didn’t know…I couldn’t call or text because I walked away and I thought it was for the best. I’m broken, Evan, and if you ever saw that and didn’t — didn’t—” Tommy’s voice broke.

“I love you,” Buck said. “And you’re not broken, because if you are then I am too.”

Tommy actually let out a sob and his face crumpled. Buck had never seen him like that. He’d seen him worried and smiling and confused. He’d seen the way that his lips turned down that night when they broke up, but he’d never seen this. The way that the wrinkles around his eyes were deepened and his mouth was so turned down and how red it made his skin.

Buck reached for him, pulled Tommy’s face down to his neck. He rubbed at his back and then ran a hand through his hair and Tommy sobbed and wet his shoulder with his tears and Buck held him and cried his own tears. It felt amazing to actually have Tommy in his arms, though the rest of it…the tears and the sobs was new.

There was no knowing how long they stood there, until Tommy pulled back, wiping at his face with one hand. He didn’t go far, though Buck could tell that maybe he wanted to. When he finally looked at Buck, he looked a little more put together.

“You’re pregnant,” he said.

Tommy’s hand fell to Buck’s abdomen. There was nothing to feel there yet. They both knew that, but Buck put his hand over Tommy’s.

“I am,” Buck said. “It doesn’t have to change anything.”

Tommy let out a strangled laugh. “It’s going to change some things. Evan, you’re going to be the best dad.”

“So are you,” Buck said and inhaled. “Right? I mean, you don’t have to be if you don’t—”

“I want to be,” Tommy said. “I don’t know how good I’ll be at it, it’s not like I had a great example. What I do know is that I am so in love with you and there is no way I’m letting you do this on your own. No way that I am walking away from you or this baby.”

Buck kissed him and Tommy responded at once, hungrily and like he was hoping to impart upon Buck every bit of his love through that kiss.

They probably had a lot more to talk about. So much to figure out about them and about the baby. Buck could see more tears and more arguments, but if there was one thing that he could count on, it was that they would make it through it. They’d made it through this break up already any other hurdles or hardships could be dealt with.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #911 abc #tommy kinard #evan buckley #mpreg #tevan #kinley #911 fic #buck x tommy

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ramblinscramblin · 1 day ago

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Got a request/suggestion for you if you like. As headcannons or whatever strikes your fancy.

The team has a new recruit! They are one of the most genuine, patient, friendly, sweetest people one could ever meet. They make everyone breakfast in the mornings, they listen to people's problems, they volunteer at a puppy orphanage, talk down muggers in the street, essentially a bottle of sunshine as a person.

On the battlefield however, they are most certainly one of the scariest people alive. They are incredibly strong and durable, no need for weapons when they can tear people apart with their bears hands and teeth. They are brutal, carnage incarnate, and have absolutely no fear whatsoever.

Now, their sweetness is genuine, they are not faking anything. Outside of battle they are one of the most pleasant, stable people on the team. If ever asked, the best reply they can ever give is "This is a war with no true death. (Thanks to the respawn machine) When you can play a game with no consequences, why not have a little fun? ~"

What do the mercs think about their new teammate? How did they react to seeing their first time on the battlefield? How scary is the game with a player who doesn't care?

Sorry about the length, I got all excited. Romantic or platonic is good, and pick whichever mercs you like to focus on.

→Sweetheart Reader who has a Bloodlust!

Genre: Silliness, general

Characters: Scout, Medic, Pyro, Sniper

Content warning: canon typical violence

Thanks so much for this request! This is such a fun idea! I decided to just pick a few of my favs, also relationship is left fairly ambiguous hope that’s all good! Enjoyyyy ٩( ᐛ )و

Scout

Scout enjoys your sweet side, Scout tends to lean towards supportive types since he doesn’t see much of that from the other mercs.

The two of you get along quickly.

We know he secretly loves being babied so he likes that you make breakfast and do all the cleaning.

He’ll probably make fun of you, calling you the teams maid. You let it slide though, maybe playfully teasing him back.

But ultimately he enjoys having someone around who isn’t totally nihilistic and hasn’t already half given up on being happy, it’s a nice change of pace for him.

All that being said, he doesn’t think you’re going to last a second on the battlefield.

Sure, being all starry eyed and happy go lucky is all good and fine around the base, but that’s the type of stuff that breaks you on the battlefield, respawns or not.

Genuinely tries to talk you out of it the first time you’re set to go out.

“Are you sure you really thought this through? Nobody’d be mad if ya skipped out on us, maybe Pauling has another type-a job for you.”

“Scout, it’s sweet you care so much, but I assure you I have it under control.”

He’s unconvinced so he goes into it feeling the need to protect you.

After he is literally doused in BLU teams blood, it’s pretty glaringly obvious you don’t need him.

Is in genuine awe, hardly fights the whole match, just watches you in… terror? Amazement? Surprise? He’s not exactly sure what he’s feeling, but there is a lot of it.

He’s definitely more wary from that point forward of making any sort of jokes about you.

Medic

Medic is wholly distrusting of your whole “good guy” act.

It might seem nice, and maybe you are but nobody gets into your position by being all smiles all the time he knows that.

Once he does a bit of inspecting on your character and a whole lot of judging, finding out that you are seriously just that golden hearted is a serious surprise to him.

You may point out to him that’s it’s pretty unfair of him of all people to be suspicious, the guy who smiles while doing open heart surgery, which he concedes.

He’s much more receptive to your niceness from then on.

Doesn’t fear so much for your safety on the battlefield, your kindness was not a good enough scale for how you would perform in battle, at least in Medics eyes.

Feels much more drawn to you after seeing your insane side.

Once seeing you on the battlefield he feels he finally has the full picture of who you are, and enjoys your company much more.

Your attitudes of being fairly frivolous on the battlefield have earned the two of you a rather unnerving reputation, but neither of you care, content to be menaces on the ground.

Sniper

Likewise, Sniper is a little suspicious about your behavior.

A puppy shelter? The sweet conversations? Helping at soup kitchens? It’s all a little on the nose for his tastes.

The kicker for him was when you somehow turned a violent drunk man on the street into a weeping mess, talking him through his childhood trauma. You really were just that tooth rottingly sweet.

Gets used to it, keeps his distance, but gets used to it.

After seeing you in battle he is even more put off. Of course, he respects your play, just the same way that he has some base level of respect for his teammates but it never goes beyond that.

He has strict codes he sticks to on the battlefield, and seeing you so lax about respect just sort of rubs him the wrong way.

You two probably don’t end up seeing eye to eye all too often, and may butt heads fairly often because of this.

But at the end of the day, you’re both teammates, and everyone else on the team loves you so much that it makes Mick feel like an asshole for having any negative feelings towards you.

Pyro

Wow! You guys get along so great!

Pyro is the exact same way, relatively beloved due to kindness off the battlefield but feared during the fight.

Pyro adores how kind and compassionate you are, wants to do all your helping stuff with you. Even if they don’t really know how to properly help anyone without starting a fire.

They will “help” with cooking and cleaning, just enjoying trying to be helpful.

You show up in a lot of their pyro land drawings, and they do enjoy spending a lot of time with you, and you them!

Pyro also loves helping out with you on the battlefield! Spreading peace and love is that much easier when you’re by their side.

Or at least… that’s Pyros version of events.

Sorry for the wait, having the worst burnout, but I am pressing on for u guys (￣^￣)ゞ hope you enjoyed!

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #x reader #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout #tf2 medic #tf2 pyro #medic x reader #sniper x reader #scout x reader #pyro x reader

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dae-chwiita · 21 hours ago

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Unseen, Unspoken

part.2-part.3

Pairing : San X reader / Yunho mentioned

Summary : When you finally decide to confess your feelings to Yunho, San is the first one to hear about it. But you don't realise just how much this decision affects him...

tw : heartbroken Sannie ouch and tears, tears, tears

——————————

You burst into San's apartment unannounced, your usual grin lighting up the space like the sun had decided to shine indoors. San, sprawled lazily on the couch in sweats and a faded tee, looked up from his phone, his lips curving into a smile so genuine it made your heart warmer.

"Sannie!" you chirp, plopping down beside him. “I need to tell you something!”

His heart stuttered, like it always did when you were this close. Your scent wrapped around him, familiar and intoxicating. He sat up, tilting his head curiously, though a small knot of worry had already started forming in his chest.

"What is it?" he asks, voice soft, careful.

You take a deep breath, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "I’ve decided…I’m going to confess to Yunho."

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. His smile faltered for just a fraction of a second—a fleeting moment he hoped you didn’t catch. His chest felt tight, like someone had reached in and twisted his heart, as if it tried to rip his it out of his chest with such violence that he almost flinched.

But San was good at this. He’d been hiding his feelings for years now, hadn’t he? A master at tucking his emotions behind teasing grins and soft, affectionate words that you never took seriously. He forced his lips back into a smile, one less warm.

"Wow," he says, his voice a little too loud, a little too bright. "That’s…that’s great! Yunho’s a lucky guy."

Your cheeks flushed and you smacked his arm playfully. "You really think so? I mean, he’s perfect, right?" You sighed dreamly but your smile quickly faltered. "But what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I mess everything up? I'm the worst when I'm stressed..."

San felt like he was shattering into pieces, every word you said driving shards of pain deeper into him. But he couldn’t let you see that. Not when you were looking at him with so much hope in your eyes. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"Are you kidding?" he says, leaning in closer. "You’re amazing. Of course he’ll say yes. I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re you."

You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world, but to San, it feels like a blade sliding between his ribs. You didn’t notice the way his hand clenched into a fist on his knee or how his gaze dropped to the floor as you kept talking about Yunho, trying to not take every word about it like a punch in the face, but you kept hitting and hitting him.

——

For days after that, San avoided you. It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what he told himself. He just needed space, needed time to push down the feelings that were threatening to consume him. He ignored your texts, avoided your calls, even went out of his way to dodge Yunho. Seeing either of you felt like rubbing salt into an open wound.

But then, you showed up at his door again.

When he opened it and saw you standing there, your eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down your cheeks, his heart stopped. He whispered your name, stepping aside to let you in.

"What’s wrong?" He asked, tugging the long sleeves of his grey shirt over his hands, ready to use it as tissue for your tears.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you collapse onto his couch, your shoulders shaking with sobs. San’s chest ached as he knelt in front of you, his hands hovering uncertainly. He wanted to hold you, to pull you close and protect you from whatever had hurt you, but he didn’t know if you’d let him.

"Yunho…" you finally manage to choke out, your voice trembling. "He…he rejected me."

San froze. His mind went blank, disbelief flooding through him. Yunho rejected you? How? Why? He didn’t understand—how could anyone reject you?

For a split second, relief surged through him, so overwhelming it almost made him dizzy. But then he looked at you—at the way you were falling apart right in front of him—and that relief turned into guilt. How could he feel happy when you were hurting like this?

"Hey, hey," he says softly, finally letting himself touch you. His hands rest on your shoulders, grounding you, his thumbs gently brushing against your skin. "It’s okay. I’m here."

You shake your head, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. "No, it’s not. I was so stupid, San. I thought…I thought he might actually like me back. But he said he didn’t feel the same. He said he didn’t want to ruin our friendship."

San’s jaw clenched. He wanted to be angry at Yunho, to blame him for your pain, but he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew Yunho wasn’t wrong. Yunho didn’t feel the same way, and he had the decency to be honest about it. San could never hate him for that.

But seeing you like this…that was unbearable.

"Princesse, hey..." he says, his voice low and steady. He moves to sit beside your laying form, pulling you up gently into his arms. You don’t resist, burying your face in his chest as he strokes your hair. "Listen to me. Yunho’s an idiot, okay? He doesn’t deserve you if he can’t see how amazing you are. But I promise you, this doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. You’re perfect just the way you are."

You sniffle, your hands clutching at his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you afloat. "I just…what’s so wrong with me that he wouldn’t even give me a chance?"

San’s heart broke all over again. "Nothing," he says firmly. "Absolutely nothing. If he can’t see how incredible you are, that’s his loss. You deserve someone who sees you, who cherishes you, who would never, ever make you cry like this."

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. He doesn’t say it outright, but he hopes—prays—you understand. That you hear what he’s really trying to tell you. At least, how much his heart beats for you, that you can hear it over your crying.

You don’t respond right away, your sobs gradually quieting as his warmth and steady presence calm you. He holds you until your breathing evens out, until your tears have dried and your head is resting on his shoulder.

"Thank you, San," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "Thank you for being here..."

He presses his lips to the top of your head, a gesture so tender it makes his chest ache. "Always," he whispers.

And he means it.

#ateez #choi san x reader #san x reader #yunho x reader #san x you #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 1 day ago

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The Pull Of You - Part 7

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes

Soulmates - Feeling the pull between each other indicates a bond. A kiss confirms it.

Summary: You meet Steve and Bucky on a Tuesday. Steve ignores the soulmate pull, Bucky can't. There's something about you that neither can shake, even when you're wearing one of Clint's t-shirts and your unicorn slippers. After weeks of slipping into your bed Bucky decides he can't hold back anymore. He's telling you after the mission, whether Steve is all in or not. When you don't come back from the mission, they are both ready to burn the world down and the team have the matches to help. But is everything as it seems and have they been betrayed by someone on the inside.

Chapter Summary: It's been 48 hours and the cracks are starting to show.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of injuries and being held captive.

“Look I know you don’t want me to say it but I think we should head back to the compound and regroup.” Rhodey advised cautiously.

It was at that moment that Bucky lost it. He’d done his court mandated therapy and he’d committed weekly sessions ever since. The elders in Wakanda had taught various relaxation techniques. He’d been keeping his emotions in check or so he thought. With you gone they had bubbled to the surface and now spilled over into what Sam had nicknamed the murder strut and he was headed in Rhodey’s direction. Clint and Pietro blocked his path.

“Move.” He growled.

“Not happening.” Clint replied.

“Move or I’ll move you.”

“Touch him and I’ll put a bullet in your head.” Snapped Natasha.

“Yeah, well I’ll spit it out.”

“Why didn’t you have her six?”

“Watch your damn mouth Romanoff!” Steve snapped “You know damn well how he feels about her! You saw her body cam footage. He went to her. She pushed him away.”

“And here we are. My best friend gone!”

“Rhodey might have a point. It’s been over twenty-four hours, nearly forty-eight. We’re going round in circles here. We’re the best there is. We haven’t missed anything. There are no leads, even within two miles of here. We already know they’ve removed her trackers and ditched her camera. We need to discuss other options, maybe call in some help.”

“We don’t need help.” Steve snapped “We, we need, we need.”

Steve stuttered over his words, a lump forming in his throat and tears in his eyes. Bucky’s shoulders slumped and he turned towards Steve pulling him in for a fierce hug.

Vision and Wanda stood quietly watching the back and forth between the team.

“I can feel their pain. All of them, as well as my own. This could tear us apart again.” Wanda whispered to her soulmate. She glanced up at vision to see his head tilt slightly.

“Vis? What is it?”

“I have a theory.”

Meanwhile………..

Pain is the first thing you’re aware of. Everything hurts. Your head probably hurts the most. You can’t open your eyes. You try but realise your eyelids are being held down. A weighted eye mask or tape perhaps?

A wave of panic spread over you and you soon knew that the breathing that came with panicking was not a good idea. A shooting pain went up your side. Broken ribs.

For fucks sake, you thought to yourself. You decided to get your shit together and allowed your training to takeover.

Smell. Damp. Musty. Sound. Tripping. Water. Voices and a radio but far away. Sight. Stuck. Feel. Pain. Body check. Toes not broke. Ankles. Damaged sprain or low level breaks. Also bound to each and whatever I’m on. Legs bruised. Broken cocsic. Ribs broken. One shoulder dislocated. Arms bruised. Left possibly broken. Hands. Bruised and bound. Right possibly broken. Fingers. Two on left hand broken. Neck pain. Eyes still stuck. Head injury. Possible concussion.

You sighed. Fuck my life.

You tried to separate your ankles but met resistance. The same came again with your wrists. You tried to lean forward but couldn’t move. You’d been tied repeatedly. Excessively and well too. You’d extracted agents that had been captured before and, although you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you’d been tied up more than they had. Clearly your reputation proceeded you. You could get in and out of anywhere and you taught others how to do the same.

Being good at breaking and entering, you’d become an escape expert in various ways and you could also slip out of knots, cuffs and traps but that wasn't common knowledge, and yet here you were.

How did they know to tie you up so well? Think.

They knew your skill set. They knew you. Realisation washed over you. They KNEW you.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@mcira @imdoingbetternow @mrsevans90 @blackhawkfanatic

#steve rogers x reader #avengers au #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #steve x reader x bucky #soulmate au #avengers soulmate au #steve rogers x reader x bucky

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ficsssss · 2 days ago

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Perfection

It was a quiet afternoon at the trailer, the kind where the sun was low and golden, casting warm beams through the small, dusty windows. Eddie was sprawled out on his couch, flipping through an old comic book he’d found at the thrift store, while you stood in the bathroom, staring at your reflection.

You’d had the day off, and after a long morning of lounging around and watching cheesy horror movies, you decided to try on some clothes you hadn’t worn in a while. You’d felt pretty good about it at first, but now, standing in front of the mirror, you weren’t so sure.

Your stomach felt tight, and your jeans felt a little more snug than they did the last time you wore them. You tugged at the fabric self-consciously, your eyes scanning for every imperfection. The curve of your hips, the small rolls at your sides, your thighs—none of it looked the way you wanted it to. You sighed, picking at the collar of your shirt, as if adjusting the fabric might make you feel better.

You hadn’t even heard Eddie coming into the hallway, but the sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Babe? You okay in there?” he called from the living room. His tone was light, but you could hear the hint of concern. Eddie was always aware of when something was off, even if you didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, just… uh, trying on some clothes,” you replied, your voice small. You didn’t feel like explaining how you’d been mentally tearing yourself apart for the last fifteen minutes.

There was a pause. Then, you heard his boots thump against the floor as he made his way down the hall, pushing open the bathroom door with a quiet creak.

He leaned against the doorframe, his wide, curly hair falling into his eyes as he tilted his head, surveying you. His face softened, and you could see that familiar Eddie Munson expression—a mix of concern and affection.

“What’s going on in here, sweetheart?” He stepped closer, eyes scanning your face. “You look like someone just stole your favorite D&D dice.”

You chuckled, though it felt more like a nervous laugh than anything genuine.

“Just… not feeling great about myself today,” you confessed, biting your lip.

Eddie frowned, but only for a second, before his signature grin appeared. He reached out, gently taking your hands and pulling you towards him. “You know, I was thinking about how lucky I am today,” he said, looking you up and down with exaggerated dramatic flair, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Oh really?” you raised an eyebrow, trying to play along despite the knot in your stomach. “Why’s that?”

“Because,” he started, leaning in a little closer with a smirk, “I get to be the one to tell you how perfect you look, even when you’re being all weird and mopey about it.”

You felt a small blush rise to your cheeks, but you still shook your head, pulling back slightly. “I don’t know, Eddie. I’m just—”

“You’re gorgeous,” he cut you off gently, his voice softening, the teasing tone slipping away. “And I don’t mean that in the cheesy, ‘oh, you’re cute’ way that guys say to get you to like them. I mean, you’re really, really gorgeous. Inside and out.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at his words. But still, you felt a little skeptical.

“Really?” you asked, lifting your arms in an exaggerated shrug, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Even with all this?” You gestured vaguely at yourself. “I’m not exactly, uh, runway material, you know.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, stepping closer until you were almost chest-to-chest. His hands slid down your arms to rest on your waist, giving you a little playful squeeze. “First of all, sweetheart,” he began, his tone a little husky now, “runway models don’t have half the attitude you’ve got, and they certainly don’t know how to make a room feel like it’s on fire just by walking into it.” He tapped your nose affectionately. “Trust me, if anyone’s ‘runway material,’ it’s you.”

A soft chuckle bubbled from your chest, but you still felt a flicker of doubt. Eddie must’ve sensed it because his grin softened, turning tender.

“Okay, let’s get real for a sec,” he said, leaning in closer. His hands slid up your back, gently pushing you against him. “You’re allowed to have days where you don’t feel on top of the world. Hell, I have them too. But I swear to you, every single inch of you is exactly how it’s supposed to be. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You looked up at him, your heart thumping in your chest as his dark eyes met yours. “And you really mean that?”

Eddie’s lips curled into a smile that made your stomach do flips. “I do,” he said, his voice low, teasing. “In fact, if I’m being honest, I think those little bits of you that you don’t like? They’re part of what makes you so damn irresistible.”

Your cheeks burned. “You’re ridiculous,” you whispered, but the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his voice made it hard to doubt him.

Eddie chuckled, his fingers gently brushing a lock of hair from your face. “Maybe. But that’s why you love me.”

You didn’t answer right away, just leaned into his touch, the tension in your body melting as you let his words sink in. Eddie always had a way of making you feel seen, even on the days when you couldn’t see it yourself.

“And if I really want to make you feel better…” he continued, his tone shifting back to something playful and mischievous, “I could always remind you that you’re lucky to have me, because, let’s be honest, I’m basically a rockstar in the world of dorky metalheads.”

You laughed, the sound lighter now, as you playfully rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Eddie. Keep telling yourself that.”

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, a quick, sweet peck that made your heart skip a beat.

“But seriously,” he added quietly, “I’m lucky to have you. And don’t you forget it, okay?”

You nodded, finally feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. Maybe you still had your insecurities, but with Eddie around, they seemed a little easier to manage. After all, how could you feel anything but perfect when someone like him thought you were?

“Well,” you said, a sly grin tugging at your lips as you pulled back slightly, “if I’m lucky to have you, then you’re really lucky I’m this cute.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into that signature smirk. “Oh, trust me, babe,” he said with a wink. “I know.”

xomky

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson

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alteredphoenix · 2 years ago

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A character study on Vlad’s descent into villainy and crumbling mental state, as well as how being the first (canonical) Halfa in history would have an effect on the state of religion, governments that claim to be separate from the church but in reality are not (because let’s be real, they’d fully take advantage of Vlad for their own ends), and the post-Pariah Dark Ghost Zone in particular.

#danny phantom #vlad masters #dannymay2023 #this was an interesting piece to write #as someone that was born and raised catholic but doesn't practice anymore #and isn't atheist; i just don't practice religion #normally i approach religions in fiction w/ the same amount of wariness that JRPGs do #and by 'wariness' i mean 'FIGHT GODS'#but i was also feeling particularly vicious yesterday #especially given the state of the political climate in the states #so i decided to lean into it and tear it apart #and what better way to explore the concepts of religion and government and the fallout from learning about the Halfa #than through the big V-man himself?

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tonycries · 8 months ago

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Dirty Lil’ Secrets!

Synopsis. They all have their habits in bed - some so filthy you can’t help but keep them your dirty little secret.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, size differences, bréeding, mating press, oral (female receiving), vibrators, manhandling, marking, jealousy (Choso’s side), praise, degradation, exhibitionism, fíngering, semi-public, cúmplay, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. This came to me while watching Pink Panther, I think I should watch Pink Panther more often.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Take it or he makes you

Now, Toji knows he’s got a big dick - huge, even. And to him it doesn’t make a difference - either you take his fat cock like the good lil’ slut you are, or he shoves it in your snug cunt and watches you gasp so deliciously around him, eyes watering, swollen lips dropping into a pretty little oh!

“Ah- hngh daddy s’too big. I don’t think-”

“You will, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly, leaning down till his breath is hot against your ear. “Because I’ll make it fit.”

Okay, maybe he lied - maybe it really does make a difference. Because right now, with you already so cockdrunk as he bullied his furiously leaking tip into your sloppy hole - Toji doesn’t think he’s ever been harder.

“Are- are you at least hngh- halfway in, daddy?” he hears you whimper. Cock twitching so animalistically inside you at the way your voice cracks so adorably at the end, tinged with desperation.

Toji can’t help but huff out a laugh, brows furrowed, greedy gaze stuck on the obscene way your pretty lips struggle to take him in. Pussy spread open so shamefully for him, quivering and leaking so sinfully onto the sheets below.

“Nope.” he hums, popping the p, reaching down to lick a long, languid stripe up the delicate tear streaming down your cheek.

God, he has to fight down some feral, animalistic part of him that wants to just plunge his throbbing cock into you till his heavy balls smack your ass. But no - not yet. What’s the fun if he can’t see you struggle a bit more?

Instead pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts to fit inside your tight pussy. Each one has his prominent veins pulsing angrily against your walls, hitting that one spot just right. A maddening bump! bump! bump! you were losing your mind to.

Stretching you to your limits. You could almost feel his achingly hard tip hitting your cervix already.

Full. So full - and he wasn’t even halfway in.

Feral grunts leave him at the way you moan breathlessly at each motion, scrambling to grab onto the headboard, the sheets, him - just anything to ground you to your sanity as you’re split apart on his achingly hard cock.

Ah, how he loved this little song and dance. A few tears, a few whines - his lil’ slut pretending like you couldn’t take it all - as if your walls aren’t sucking him in so obscenely, hips bucking up mindlessly for more. He loves your cute lil’ mewls when you can’t decide between wanting to run away or milk the soul out of him.

“Now now,” Toji tuts, looping two muscled arms around your waist so you can’t escape. Tight, grip almost bruising.

You let out a delirious squeal as he pulls you down down down - onto his thick cock. Plush walls taking him in greedily inch by fucking inch. Hungry for more.

He knew his pretty girl could do it - you always do.

“Don’t think you can run away from me, doll.” he groans over your pathetic little yelps of “Ah! Too- too big, daddy! Gonna break-”

“Then break f’me.”

And with that, Toji’s had enough of playing nice - ramming in the rest of his length in one, harsh thrust. Not stopping till he’s buried in your dripping cunt all the way to the hilt.

A low hiss leaves him as his abs rub your skin, twitching balls finally smacking against your ass. Finally taking all of him.

Finally bottoming out. Ah, this is what he’s wanted for s’long - teasing himself just as much as you.

“Oh! Oh my- ah, fuck. Want it- need it s’bad. Please- ngh-” you mewl, hips bucking wildly. Too cock-drunk on the way the tufts hair at his toned pelvis scratch against your throbbing clit to even form proper sentences. God, you think you could almost cum just from the feeling of being so overwhelmingly full of him.

“Feel me in you, pretty girl?” he rumbles, low and dangerous. “Feel me right…” he trails a long finger in between the valley of your breasts. Featherlight touch dancing down, down, down to your navel, pressing hard onto your stomach, “...there.”

You gasp at the pressure, breath catching in your throat at the dangerous smirk curling his lips as he begins to pull out inch by inch - agonizingly slow. Getting ready to fucking ruin you. Because boy does it stroke his ego to see you absolutely wrecked by his huge cock, struggling to just take him - but this is where the real fun starts.

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The family man

Nanami’s a very steady man - he always has been.

A steady job, a steady schedule, a steady relationship with you. So, really, it makes sense that he wants a kid, or two - or four with the ways he’s got you folded in half beneath him. Legs thrown over his sculpted shoulders, thighs burning at the stretch as he bends down down down-

A mating press. Nanami Kento had you in a fucking mating press.

And it was very dangerously quickly becoming his favorite thing.

You weren’t sure what to expect with that off-hand comment about wanting kids, but it surely wasn’t for your loving husband to fucking rip your skirt off and bend you over the nearest flat surface, throbbing cock now buried in your dripping pussy.

That was a few days ago.

And now every night without fail, you have Nanami’s seed dripping down your legs, still-achingly hard erection buried in your poor cunt - you doubt you’ll make it out alive this time.

“K-Kento- Hah- hngh, I feel s’full- so-”

“Shhh, darling. One more. Jus’ one more, all you gotta do is take every drop.” he hums, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. Brows furrowed, sweat trickling down his temple, cock ramming into you at such a filthy pace.

Warm - so warm with his seed. It jolted some carnal part of him - all the way down to his achingly hard cock - to know that he was the one doing this to you. That was his cum filling your pretty pussy. And everyone else would know.

God, you can do nothing but sit there and take it as Nanami edges you closer and closer to your nth orgasm tonight. Thumb drawing rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit that match the merciless pace of his hips.

Over and over. A quick, maddening tempo he was losing his mind to.

Desperate, so desperate to get you off.

“Gonna fill you up.” he whispers, voice raw and dripping with need, mind hazy. “Gonna be so round and pretty with my kid, right, darling?”

You nod eagerly, as he increases his pace impossibly. Your skin stinging where his balls smack your ass, fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your kiss-bitten lips each time his hips hit yours.

Drool drips delicately down the corner of your mouth at how animalistically he was fucking you. None of that familiar tenderness - only the pure, filthy desire to breed your pretty lil’ cunt full. All his.

“You can dress ‘em up, and I’ll take ‘em to school.” he rambles, as half-delirious as you at this point. Drunk off of you and your cunt and you. “And when we’re all alone…” he trails off dangerously. Ripping his gaze from the creamy, white ring forming around his base to look in your eyes, “I’ll fuck another one into you.”

“Ah! Yes yes yes, please. Cum in me baby, fill me up.”

You see white as you cum - or maybe that was Nanami painting your plushy walls with his seed, you can’t even tell at this point, too exhausted and cock-drunk. All you can feel is Nanami twitching inside you before he’s shooting thick hot spurts of his cum. Again. And again.

“Oh- Kento, t’much. There’s so much.” you moan softly, words slurring together. Sloppy hole quivering at the feeling of being so deliciously overfilled as Nanami’s cum trickles out of you, forming a wet, sinful pool on the sheets below.

“Feel it inside you, darling?” he doesn’t stop thrusting - rough, mindless movements from some deep-rooted, primal little part of him. Stuffing you deeper and deeper with his cum. Fully intent on filling you up until he was shooting blanks - or until he physically couldn’t. Whichever comes last.

Fucked-out little yelps leave you with wreckless abandon, mixing with the creaking of the bed at Nanami starts up yet another unforgiving pace, “Yes- Ah! I feel it, Kento. Feel it s’deep inside me.” “Mhm?” he purrs, teeth grazing your earlobe. Darkened eyes glinting with something predatory as they greedily lock onto the way his cum gushes out of you. Seeping into your skin, smearing on his abs - and his rock-hard cock. “Then, better be ready for one more, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The sweet-talker

If someone saw the ever-graceful Geto Suguru right now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes - and definitely not their ears. Such beautiful words coming out of such a beautiful mouth, but his actions were anything but.

And it doesn’t even matter the place, he’ll come up right beside you and whisper a few seemingly harmless words. “I really love that skirt on you, angel. Is this the one I bought?” he’d say to you at the convenience store, smiling sweetly at the old woman in front of him that sighs about “young love.”

Little did anyone know that right at that moment, the innocent hand in his pocket fiddles with that little plastic remote. The one he bought specifically to make you lose your sanity.

Intensity setting 2.

“B-baby?” you whimper, breath hitching as you feel the bullet vibrator shoved inside your dripping cunt start to turn up a notch - tiny, methodical vibrations against your snug walls.

“Yes, my angel?”

You could almost smack the innocent grin off his devastatingly handsome face. Geto Suguru could win an Oscar for how good he was at acting like he didn’t have a firm grip on your vibrator control. Thumb running harsh, quick little circles on the intensity.

“Nothing.” you grit your teeth, nails digging into his sculpted arm as you hold onto him for support. The little bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt maddening against your cunt. Praying that no one else here could see your dazed eyes and the way your thighs were quivering desperately. God, could this queue get any longer?

You almost miss the wrinkled hand waving in front of your face, the good-natured voice in front of you asking, “You alright, dearie? You look a bit under the weather.”

Intensity setting 3.

“I-I’m-” you choke, looking up at Geto for support. In perhaps a miraculous act of kindness, he peers down gently at the old lady. “Don’t worry, grandma. My love here has just been a bit sick today. M’taking her to the doctor after this, y’know. Isn’t that right, angel?”

Intensity setting 4.

Oh, not an act of kindness. Definitely not.

Panties completely soaked now, pussy clenching desperately around the vibrator. You shoot a quick glare at Geto, who was urging you deceivingly lovingly to answer. God, you could almost hear the laughter inside his mind as you take a steadying breath, stuttering out a barely audible, “Y-yeah. Sick today.”

You couldn’t care less if the sigh of relief you let out is audible to everyone else in the store as the elderly woman turns away with a nod. Mind focused only on Geto and Intensity setting 4 and Geto-

“Aww, what’s wrong, angel? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” you hear that familiar faux concern from above you. “Which asshole do I need to beat up?”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt

Gritting your teeth in order to not snap or just outright demand that Geto makes you cum right here, right now. Instead, managing out an unsteady little, “Turn it down.”

“What was that, angel?”

“Turn it down, I swear to-”

You’re cut off by hot breath against your ear, Geto’s voice hoarse with desire as he mutters, “Then cum. Right here.”

And as if to prove his point, he deftly runs his fingers along the intensity control once more, rubbing maddening little circles along it. Edging your climax and your sanity like the sadistic bastard he was.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt

And you could tell by the faint smirk curling his lips that he was taunting you - torturing you to just break or break him. Whichever comes first.

Thighs trembling, knees weak, you shiver as you finally reach the counter, Geto’s thumb now firmly set on Intensity setting 4 as he speaks casually with the cashier. How dare he talk about the weather when you were reaching a breaking point here?

Tears prick at your eyes - both at the pure overstimulation and the frustration of not being able to fucking cum. No matter how much you wanted to.

“Angel, you don’t look too well. Want to sit down?”

You clench your jaw, trying to maintain some level of composure as Geto pays for your items. Every second feels like an eternity, every nerve ending screaming for release.

You muster a weak nod even as you can feel your thighs quivering, blood roaring in your ears - you refuse to let him win. At least this time.

“C’mon now, let’s get you home and rested.” By the time Geto steers you to the exit, you’re practically begging for relief. His arm hot around your waist, your vision blurring at the edges. You’ve only made one step outside when-

Intensity setting 5.

You cum with a strangled yelp. Nails digging into Geto’s forearm hard - part in surprise and part revenge for all of that. His strong arm being the only thing grounding you - and the only thing keeping you from collapsing to the fucking ground.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, and for a brief moment, all you can do is breathe, your eyes fluttering closed as your body shudders at the shockwaves of electricity. God, you almost think you see the pearly gates of heaven at the sheer intensity of your pleasure.

When you crack open your eyes again, you find Geto staring at you. Ah, an angel.

“Well, you should be thankful I went easy on you this time.”

Nevermind, it’s the devil incarnate. Geto leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Hope you’re not feeling too ‘under the weather’, angel. Because I’ve got a plan in mind and we’re going to be doing something much more fun than going to the doctor."

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Marked up and all his

Choso knew you were hot - it only bothered him that everyone else did too.

Which is probably why you’ll often find him all but dragging you into the nearest bathroom at whatever party. Barely even locking the door before he’s got you pressed against the cold counter, leaking tip dragging teasingly along your swollen folds.

“Choso, baby~” you whine softly from where his furiously flushed head was kissing your dripping cunt, barely audible over the loud thumping of the music from the other side of the door. “More, deeper.”

And, well, whatever his sweetheart wants - she will get. Because he immediately presses in, plunging inch by fucking inch into your sloppy heaven. Veins dragging so maddeningly across your walls as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt.

“This what you want? To be split apart on my cock, sweetheart?” He groans into the crook of your neck, your sweet moans going straight to his aching cock. Tongue flattening along the skin, licking long, languid stripes up your neck, he nibbles lightly - all part of his plan.

“Hah- Hngh, yes baby. Jus’ like that.” Enveloping himself in your warmth, thrusting in small, mindless little motions of his hips. Not even wanting to get himself off - just wanting, needing to feel your pretty pussy around his cock. To prove to himself that you were his.

But it wasn’t enough.

Mouth still relentlessly marking and biting your skin, Choso guides your legs to wrap around his toned waist - a signal to pull, to use him to your heart’s content.

“Fuck, Choso- Fucking me s’good.” Your legs tighten around him, pulling him impossibly closer. It’s all Choso ever wants.

One hand deftly snakes it’s way down to your throbbing clit, rolling his thumb along the sensitive bud in just the way he knows will make you squeal and buck your hips onto his cock for more more more-

And the other - ah, yes, he can’t forget why he’s here - neat fingernails digging deep into your skin. Leaving pretty crescents in their wake - just below where your tight lil’ party dress hiked up. To show all those losers on the dance floor who you belong to.

Dragging. Marking.

His mouth leaves their place from your neck to whisper against your lips, darkened eyes boring into yours, “You’re mine, y’know that?”

You can do nothing but nod breathlessly into the heady air, hips bucking wildly underneath him as he increases his pace. Keening deliriously at the bruising grip on your hips and the even harder one on your poor cunt.

“Mine. All mine.” he grits out, twitching balls smacking your ass, rock-hard cock dipping in and out in and out in and-

“Those losers can’t fuck you the way I do, sweetheart.”

And then you’re cumming. Jolts of electricity running down your spine - and your nails raking down Choso’s. Red-hot patterns in their wake - and that’s exactly what sends him over the edge. “Ah- Shit shit shit, yes mark me till m’bloody yes-”

And maybe you do, because his throbbing cock twitches deeply in your pussy. Thrusting once, twice before he pumps thick, hot ropes into your fluttering walls. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name.

Two arms kneading your ass - wrapping bruisingly around your waist - touching any and every inch of skin he could reach. Leaving pretty little marks for days.

You can feel such a sinful, sticky mixture of his slick and your cum trailing down your legs as he fucks you both through your highs. Pooling at the cold counter, stomach now uncomfortably hot, vision blurry - yet you still manage to make out the satisfied grin on Choso’s face.

Pure pride shining in his eyes as he takes in your fucked-out state, marks blossoming along your skin as if you’d been thrown to the wolves.

Ah, success.

But he’s barely had time to bask in his victory till you murmur out a quick “Hold on.” Pulling him firmly by the collar of his t-shirt. Lips firmly slotting over the sensitive skin peaking out.

Choso’s breath hitches as you bite and tease the skin - a pathetic little imitation of the absolute wreck he’d havoced on your skin - not pulling away until you’re satisfied with the dark, red mark blossoming on his milky skin.

“There. Perfect.” you flash an almost-innocent grin at him. And despite all that transpired in this heady bathroom, this is what makes his knees weaken so desperately. Oh, how he loved being yours.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The show-off

If the King of Curses owns something nice and pretty, then you can bet he’s going to show it off to everyone and anyone that crosses him. It doesn’t matter if it’s human trash or some lowly curse he’s just about to kill, all of them have the same last sight - you.

You, sat so prettily on the hulking king’s lap. All doe-eyed and batting your lashes so innocently at him as he wielded chaos on his throne.

It made them almost want to save you from this monster, only to realize - if Sukuna was feeling particularly generous that day - that he was the last thing that you needed saving from.

Because if by some miracle, Sukuna was feeling generous - and decided that those scum that bow beneath him should see something pretty before they die - then they see you. Legs spread so shamefully on his lap, large arms the width of your head keeping them open for your guests.

Sukuna trails his rough fingers dangerously down your robe - one that does absolutely nothing to hide your curves or the heaving of your chest. Thin fabric tearing easily under his sharp fingernails, exposing such tantalizing flashes of skin as whoever’s watching gulps heavily in both fear and anticipation.

He doesn’t stop till your robe is all but hanging off you now, dripping cunt soaking the tattered fabric as you keen desperately into his touch.

“Shhh, my lil’ slut.” he murmurs, low and gravelly into your ear, hot breath sending jolts of electricity coursing through your veins. “Wouldn’t want to be rude in front of our guests, hm?”

Whoever’s bowing before you two don’t know what makes shivers run down their spine more - Sukuna’s dangerous words or the way you whine desperately. “But Sukuna~” grinding onto his very obvious erection as you do, “Wan’ you so badly, haven’t been filled by you today.”

Shit, scratch that. The scariest thing here was the deep chuckle that echoes across the throne room - the King of Curses laughing. Laughing.

They watch in horror - unable to rip their eyes away - as he snakes down two large fingers to your dripping cunt, spreading open your swollen folds. Absolutely delighting in the way you flutter around nothing - his lil’ slut, so desperate for him.

You buck readily into his hold as Sukuna bullies two large fingers into your snug cunt. Ready walls clenching down so sinfully at finally getting some of the friction you’d been aching for all day.

“Ohh, yes. Sukuna, finally. Wanted you in me s’bad.” you squeal as he curls his fingers deftly inside you, expertly grazing that familiar spot he knew would have you falling apart in a matter of a few seconds.

“So spoiled.” Sukuna hums, a sly grin curling his lips - and the scum bowing before him completely forgotten - as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of your sloppy hole. Thrusting in rough, jerky little movements that no matter how filthy and unrefined they seem - hold a dangerous, calculated intent as he hits that spot over and over.

The ones before you find their cocks hardening traitorously at your breathy whines and the lewd squelching sounds. Torn between training their eyes on the ground and greedily watching your thighs quiver on the monster’s lap, cunt dripping so obscenely onto his robe.

“Look at her.” a sharp order jolts them out of their reverie. Sukuna didn’t have to ask, he knew you were a heavenly vision in his little hell. Yet, he continues anyway, amusement spiking at the way they can do nothing but gape at what they can never have “Look. So desperate f’me. Should I make her cum?”

“Nooo, Sukuna don’ be mean~” you whine half-deliriously at the silence that follows. Voice strangled at the merciless pace Sukuna had on your cunt, rolling your swollen clit on his fingers, dipping in and out in and out in and-

Sukuna chuckles darkly in your ear, over the protests of the trash at his feet, “Seems like they don’t want you to cum.” He increases his pace ruthlessly, over and over. Hitting that spot with reckless abandon, delighting in the way you writhe and convulse on his lap. “But s’alright, I’ll be the one to make you cum. Your king, hm?”

And make you cum he does. Adding three fingers into your tight cunt now, thrusting in and out at a pace that has you bowing into his hulking body. Over and over. Hurried. Hasty. Almost torturous for those watching.

“Ah! Yes yes yes, Sukuna~ M’gonna-” you can barely finish the sentence before you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, broken moans of Sukuna’s name leaving your swollen lips. He doesn’t stop - not when your orgasm is mere tingles, your voice too raw to even let out fucked-out moans. Not even when you’re quivering and fidgeting on his laps. Not even when he leans down to mutter in your ear, voice husky with pure need, “Now, how should I kill these fuckers off?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Just a lil’ taste

The great Gojo Satoru loves all things sweet, and that includes you. Not just you, but your pretty lips, your sweet cunt, and the sweetest - something else he’d never admit to anyone but you - the taste of him in you.

And right now - bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt, his heavy balls smacking your ass over and over as he rams into you hard, fast - Gojo knows there’s something for him to look forward to.

The bed creaks in protest as he chases the heavenly feeling of your tight pussy around him, mixing with the filthy moans leaving your mouth.

He was probably going to get another noise complaint - good, let them nosy fuckers know how good he makes you feel.

“Ah! Hah- hngh, Toru filling me up s’good.” you mewl and buck your hips underneath him for more more more- wanting, needing the feeling of him stretching you so deliciously. His glistening veins dragging along that one spot so deliciously, pulsing against your tight walls at an urgent, incessant rhythm.

“Oh yeah?” he grunts. Cock pushing into you deeper and deeper, cervix kissing your tip so painfully good. “Like this? Like it when I fuck you like this? Can’t get enough of it, hm?”

Because of course, Gojo Satoru can’t stop running his mouth even when he’s fucking you relentlessly. Even when his thrusts grow frenzied, sloppy with desire. And especially not when you’re creaming on his achingly hard cock.

God, you’re so fucking perfect he can’t help but lose himself in the heat of the moment as well.

Body arching off the bed, you see stars behind your eyes as Gojo cums in thick, hot spurts inside your fluttering walls. “Shit, oh Toru, s’full inside me hah-”

You think you probably cum harder just at the sight before you.

Gojo’s head thrown back, blue eyes prettily rolling to the back of his head as he bites his lips in concentration - desperately trying to fight off that feral, animalistic part of himself that just wants to fuck his cum deeper and deeper inside your dripping cunt. Wrestling that urge to breed you full to the back of his mind.

No, because he’s got bigger things in mind.

Bigger things that include urgently dropping to his knees as soon as your breathless moans bate. He wrestles your hips on the mattress, grip bruising on your waist as he pulls your pretty cunt closer. All wet and painted white with his cum, dripping so obscenely onto the fresh sheets below.

Mouth dropping into a soft oh! at the sinful sight before him, Gojo doesn’t waste a second before surging forward.

Nose-deep in your pussy, he doesn’t stop till he’s nose-deep and breathing you in so obscenely. Tongue bullying its way in between your swollen folds, dipping into your sloppy entrance in and out in and out in and out-

He groans into your cunt as he tastes himself. Tastes you.

Sweet.

The absolutely filthy mixture of his cum and your slick sliding down his tongue as he laps up your juices with the desperation of a madman. God, it makes the blood rush straight to his dick at the way your mouth drops open in disbelief - he never does get used to it.

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

“Mmm, s’sweet on my tongue, baby.” he slurs, drunk off the absolutely intoxicating taste of your sin. “Fuck- Can’t get enough of it. Shit.”

You flinch as he swears into your throbbing cunt. Seeing flashes of white behind your eyes each time he flicks his tongue just right to graze over all your most sensitive spots. You could almost cry from the overstimulation - walls fluttering sensitively around his relentless tongue.

And you probably do really cry when Gojo moves up your dripping pussy, sucking on your swollen clit. Rolling his tongue over and over at the same maddening pace of the tears down your cheeks.

Absentmindedly, you wonder whether he’s done with his little feast - and moving on to torture you full time now.

Gojo huffs out a laugh into your cunt, popping off your abused clit with a lewd pop! Hands snaking down to grab his rock-hard base. Pulling in short, desperate little tugs to get himself ready for what was to come. “Yeah, m’done, baby.” he chuckles darkly. Shit, did you say that out loud?

But you have no time to wonder too long about that, instead stuck on that dangerous little glint in his eyes as he stands from his position nose-deep in your cunt. Swiping his tongue across his lips, savoring every last drop of you.

Dazed, your eyes drift from his slick-glossed mouth down, down, down to-

Oh.

“Don’t worry, baby. M’gonna be feasting again real soon.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

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cute-little-crow · 2 months ago

Text

You’re in a particular mood whilst in the midst of intimate shenanigans and it’s about to get you in a whole heap of trouble. Or when you ask them…

“Is it in yet?”

feat: Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier & Zayne (separately)

tw: female reader, brat behaviour, regretting decisions, smut smut and more smut, edging, overstimulation, temp play, light bondage (held bodily), all the boys bringing out their Dom sides to varying degrees, spanking, oral fixation, creampies, hair pulling, phew sorry if I missed something

“Excuse me?”

“What? It was an innocent question,” you huffed, biting your lip and glancing towards the ceiling light over his shoulder.

You could feel the hard length of Rafayel’s cock twitch within your walls, his hand, splayed wide at your hip, tensed until his fingertips pressed harder into the soft yield of your skin.

The urge to squirm was growing more intense, but then he would know. He would know you were goading him. Hell, he probably already knew given the narrow of his violet hued eyes and the crease forming between his eyebrows.

When he didn’t speak, didn’t move, barely drew breath, you piped up once more—pushing your luck too far.

“All I asked was if it was in yet. What’s the problem, Raf?”

Rafayel hissed.

The unnatural noise made you jump, a pathetic moan tumbling from your lips when the jerking motion nudged the tip of his cock against your swollen pleasure spot.

“Brat…” he seethed, pulling out of you and leaning back to spread your thighs wide apart. “And to think I was being so nice to you. Clearly, you don’t want nice.”

His long fingers splayed out on your sensitive inner thighs, holding you down on the bed with your cunt gaping and flexing from where he had just been buried. Arousal dripped along your slit until it dribbled to the sheets below.

You reached from him, squalling from the sudden empty feeling but he pushed away your hand and gave a stern shake of his head.

“Rafay—”

“Hush. Don’t speak. Let’s see how long you can last, hm?”

Gripping the base of his cock, he spread his knees wider so he was closer to you once more. The fat tip leaked with precum which he smeared around your entrance before pushing into you, but stopping when the tip disappeared.

It felt delicious and your skin warmed all over from the sensation. You keened, attempting to roll your hips upward only to be stopped by a firm grip.

“Oh? You feel it now… shame.”

Frowning, you licked over your suddenly parched lips.

Rafayel was pissed.

It turned you on to see him darken; from the colours swirling in his eyes to the shadow falling over his face to his entire demeanour growing sterner, everything more angular and sharp.

Again he withdrew and let his cockhead slap against your puffy clit, far from gentle. Your nerve endings were on fire, sweat gathering on your hairline.

Over and over Rafayel repeated the process. He gave you only ever an inch and never for long enough. Your stomach was in knots from the treatment, the continued smacking of your swollen pearl which he would reach down and tweak every now and again, stopping when he knew you were getting close.

“Please…” you begged, broken and near tears. “I need to feel all of you. ‘want your cock.”

“What’s that, cutie? I didn’t think you could feel anything… and now you want it all? Brats don’t get treats, they get tricks so hush until I’m ready.”

Rafayel edged you for the next hour; giving you enough stimulation to keep you tense and desperate but never enough to satisfy your needs.

It would be quite some time until you decided to be sassy with the Lemurian again.

Sylus paused.

His mouth pulled back from your neck, steady breaths tickling your skin and emphasising the bruises blooming to life.

“I’m sorry, I think I must have misheard you. What did you say, sweetie?”

You were regretting your moment of madness already, heart pounding so harshly in your chest that it just might beat right out. Funnily enough, your voice disappeared into nothing but a strand of whimpered syllables.

He clicked his tongue in dismay, and cupped your chin firmly to bring your focus to his face. You couldn’t run from the piercing intensity of his vermillion eyes, nor from the hold on your jaw that tightened until you were close to squeaking out.

“Nothing, I’m sorry—”

“No, no. You should repeat what you asked me, kitten. Something about ‘is it in yet?’, no?” His voice was a deadly calm whisper and that was so much worse than an overly emotional reaction.

Sylus thrust harshly into you when your mouth flapped open and closed like a fish out of water, your stomach clenched and your legs wrapped more tightly around his waist.

“Seems like you can feel me just fine… so why deny it? Does the kitten want to brat me tonight? Tsk tsk. Bad kitty.”

He peeled away your legs from his sides carefully, thumbs digging into the backs of your knees whilst he adjusted your body beneath him. You went from being intimately close to having your knees digging into your chest and your ankles by your ears.

The adjustment allowed him to sink deeper into you, knocking the air from your lungs. Sylus loomed over your folded body with one stretched hand holding your ankles. It was enough to keep you in the position he desired, enough that every forward momentum felt like you might burst all over him.

“I can’t hear you, sweetie.”

You squealed and squirmed. Your eyes rolled over to the back of your head. You wet his cock so thoroughly that slick dripped from his balls, only emphasising the smacking sound when they impacted heavily against your backside.

Over and over he drove you through orgasm after orgasm. Sylus wrung you like an overly used towel and listened to you sing his name along with the best attempts at apologies you could muster. Every sound was desperation incarnate and he let out an amused huff that gave way to a guttural groan signalling his own release.

“Sylus… oh fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Instead of releasing your trembling legs, the cunning man above you ran his fingers around the base of his cock, coating them in the mixed essence of you both which had managed to escape.

The digits came away creamy, shiny and debauched. With a wolfish grin, he pushed them into your mouth to silence your continued pleas for mercy. Your tongue flattened against roughened pads, the tang lighting up your taste buds and saliva rushed to meet them.

“I heard you, but bad kitties need to be reminded of their manners. Now then, suck my fingers cleans so I can fill you with another load. I need to make sure you really feel it after all…”

Sylus made you pay for your sass over and over that night…

“… did I? Did I hear you right?”

“Did I stutter? I said… is it in yet, Xav?” You asked churlishly. His cerulean eyes swam like oceans in front of your face, a fleeting look of hurt passing over his features and that was enough to deflate most of your bravado.

“Wait, baby, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve—”

Xavier cut you off with a move you could only describe as pro wrestling adjacent.

One moment he was cradled by the comfort of your body and the next, he was rolling you over onto your stomach and straddling your thighs. His hand traced the curve of your spine, pressing your chest deep into the plush mattress and ending by winding around your hair.

“No, baby. You don’t deserve to be given half-assed dick. Let me make up for my failings,” he rasped into your ear, leaning over you whilst his slick cock rocked between the cleft of your ass.

He tugged on the makeshift ponytail he’d made, drawing your head up at the same time the rest of you was crushed into the sheets, your hands trapped beneath your stomach—useless.

“Spread your legs—that’s it—I see you’re not completely off the rails tonight.”

Xavier worked himself through the gap of your thighs, the blunt head of him butting up against your clit and drawing little gasping hisses from you. His fingers tightened in your hair, and you squirmed, futile beneath his weight.

When he finally notched at your fluttering hole, you were holding your breath so hard you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. His hips descended, dropping himself flush along your body at the same moment he fucked into you.

“Shit!! Xav! Oh god…”

Xavier chuckled nasally, a hungry mouth clamping over the beating pulse in your neck. He set a harsh pace immediately, fucking you prone bone.

You could do absolutely nothing but take every hit. His cock moulding your pussy to fit him and him alone. The angle had him rutting right up near your cervix, so close to flashes of pain but measured enough to stop before he could inflict any actual damage.

He huffed into the crook of your neck, biting and licking over the hurt with shallow breathing that mimicked your own. Xavier was relentless and you had never seen him quite like this.

“So tight, princess. You feel me now? Tell me. Do you feel me in your belly? Gonna spill any minute,” he admitted with a heavy grunt punctuating the words.

In your belly? You could feel him in your damn throat with how deep he was hitting and all you could do was squeal. The sound heightened into a high pitch shriek only animals would hear when he shifted himself to deliver a hearty smack to your backside.

“C’mon… tell me. Is it in now? Is my cock deep enough? The cream you’re leaking tells me yes but I want to hear it from you.”

“Yes! Xavier, yes!”

Never again would you make that same mistake. Who knew your star boy had it in him?

At first, you weren’t sure if he had heard you. Zayne was frozen above, hands pressed to either side of your head and his eyes fixedly shut.

You were about to repeat your attempt at being a brat just to see how the good doctor would react when he blinked open his eyes and your jaw snapped shut.

The frown deepening his brow seemed genuinely startled and he raised a hand to feel your forehead like he was assessing you for a medical condition.

“You don’t feel feverish… perhaps some neurological condition has manifested,” he muttered almost to himself.

“Zayne—don’t be silly. All I asked was if it was in yet?”

He hummed—thoughtfully. “Yes. I heard you, but I can’t quite correlate the words with the sentiment because I know you can feel me.”

“Oh, you do, huh? Sound pretty full of yourself, Dr Zayne.”

As if for emphasis, he pumped himself into you with a snap of his hips. It resulted exactly as he wanted, with your breathless gasp and your head flying back against the pillows.

“You were saying?” He asked coolly. “Perhaps I should check your reactions to other stimuli, just to be sure…”

“What does that—oh!”

Ice veiled the tips of his fingers, careful blue veins creating intricate patterns. Zayne sat back on his haunches, cock still plugged into your clenching cunt, and traced those frozen digits down the column of your throat and towards your breasts.

“Cold! Cold! Stop that,” you yelped, swatting at his hand which diligently refused to be dissuaded.

Only the very corner of his mouth quirked into a smile, his smart, ever assessing eyes watching intently whilst he circled your puffy nipples and they stiffened further from the cold.

“You seem to react to low temperatures within normal ranges, how about warm temperatures,” he mused absently.

Without further warning, his head dipped and his tongue brushed your pert nipple. Zayne’s lips surrounded the bud and suckled with enthusiasm. The instant heat of his mouth bowed your spine and raised your ass so you were grinding yourself shamelessly against Zayne’s front.

“Zayne… fuck.”

The friction elicited from the coarse thatch of neatly trimmed hair at his pelvis caused you to mewl and whine. Your fingers carded through his dark hair and all rational thought flew from your mind.

Just as you were getting used to the hot sensation of your nipple being sucked and pinched by careful teeth, he switched. Ice enveloped the swollen skin, a burn gnawed at your gut but it was a pleasant one.

Zayne continued to tweak at your nipples in turn, cooling them down and warming them up with his tongue, all whilst he maintained a steady pace within you. His cock throbbed and your walls spasmed.

“My diagnosis,” he said quite suddenly, mouth breaking from your breasts with a shallow pant, “is that of brattitude. Quite a severe case too…”

You groaned aloud, eyes cast heavenward at the near orgasm that was close to cresting over you like a playful wave.

“Treatment begins now. I’ll make sure you continue to feel me all night long.”

The good doctor was true to his word, and come morning, the only thing you couldn’t feel were your legs.

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads zayne #lads rafayel #lads xavier #sylus smut #zayne smut #rafayel smut #xavier smut #sylus x you #zayne x you #rafayel x you #xavier x you #lnds smut #lads smut

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lavenderspence · 4 months ago

Text

Bump Relief - S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, pregnant reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Making you comfortable while you're pregnant is his number one priority, so he decides to give JJ's little trick a try

Request: maybe Spencer hearing from JJ or reading somewhere that holding the baby bump relieves the mother and decides to try it on his girlfriend/wife?

A/N: So a few days ago, I asked for short requests because I was dying to write something short. I sat down to write, and it got a little longer than I anticipated(I have no excuse). It's a known fact I can't write anything short, so I don't know why I try. I was going to post this tomorrow, but I really needed the serotonin I get from posting a fic, so enjoy!

masterlist | requests are closed!

Spencer was twirling a pen between his fingers, deep in thought. All of his thoughts were about you because of course they were.

He thought about you while he fell in love, proposed, and watched you walk down the aisle towards him. You occupied every waking moment when he wasn’t focused on his work, friends and mother, or hobbies. You were a constant in his life, and have been for years.

But he’d been thinking about you a lot more in the last 6 months, and especially the last few days. About you, and the little angel.

At 34 weeks pregnant, you were glowing from the inside, just as beautiful as you’d been in your wedding dress. Or that’s what Spencer saw when he looked at you.

But along with all the beauty of growing your little one came the few negatives, some of which he couldn’t help but notice too. How you hadn’t been wearing your wedding rings since the start of your third trimester.

Or the light sheen of sweat on your brow just going up the stairs to your apartment. Or even the discomfort at the small of your back from carrying all the weight around. The small winces he heard coming from you, along with the scrunch in your eyes and nose.

He wanted to take a part of your discomfort and bear it as his own. He’d watched you grow this little bean inside you for months, fight the morning sickness, and the only thing he’d been able to do was hold your hair and rub your back, watching as you suffered through it.

Or the changes in your body, your clothes not fitting, or sometimes feeling like an outsider in your own skin. He’d been able to offer reassuring words, and kisses laid across your whole body, any point that sparked an insecurity in you - worshiped.

He’d wake up in the middle of the night to satisfy your weird food cravings, or even the desire to have him as a snack.

He’d been to every appointment with you - held your hand, wiped your tears, or kissed the crown of your head. You’d heard the heartbeat together, where he’d spoken in your ear, thankful to you for giving him the greatest gift of all to come in a few short months - being a dad. Something he’d wished for, for years, sometimes even thinking he’d never get to experience it.

But that’s as far as he could help you and god, he wished he could do more.

He didn’t hear JJ approaching and wasn’t even paying attention when she called his name out softly. And then again, and again.

Snapping her fingers in front of his face worked like a charm though.

“Yes?” He asked, after a light shake of his head to clear his thoughts.

“Where’d you go Spence?” She leaned against his desk, giving his shoulder a small squeeze in support, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good,” He didn’t look or sound convincing, and watching JJ’s brow arch in question, he sighed, “Well, okay, not everything.”

“What’s going on? Are Y/N and the baby okay?” She asked a frantic worry in her voice.

“They’re good and healthy,” Spencer confirmed, watching her let a sigh of her own. He decided then and there to seek her advice. She was his friend, and seeing as she’d been a mom twice now, she knew exactly what you were going through.

“She’s been feeling uncomfortable, carrying the weight of the little bean around,” He smiled, simply mentioning his child softened everything within him, “And I see her trying not to show it that much, but it’s clearly exhausting her even more, and I wish there was something I could do to help, you know?” He sounded so small at that moment, rubbing his wedding band, feeling like he was failing you somehow.

He knew that wasn’t possible, you told him daily how proud you were of him and everything he did and has done for you, but even now, he couldn’t help but worry sometimes.

“Well, there’s this one thing that worked wonders for me when I was pregnant with Henry, and Michael too.” She started before she shared her little secret.

You breathed in deep, moving around yet again, and then exhaled a long breath.

Your couch was one of the most comfortable things in the apartment - at least it had been before you’d started popping. Now it felt more like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever, but you knew that was just your inability to get comfortable - well, anywhere really.

It was a struggle finding a way to feel good, but not like your baby was sitting on your bladder, or putting more pressure on your back than needed. You had roughly 6 more weeks to go, but you already felt about ready to pop.

Your bean was grown in size - with a tall daddy like your husband, you weren’t even that surprised. You somehow knew that they’d take even more than his height - you hoped they’d inherit his best characteristics too. His love for learning, his calmness, and most of all his heart. Maybe his hair too - you loved his hair. And his smile. God you simply loved him.

You couldn’t wait for him to get home - the only time you felt like your whole body could relax was whenever he was with you, one hand or both thrown over your bump in a protective manner, talking to you and your baby quietly.

You tried a few more times to get comfortable, a few different positions - leaning on your left, your right, or even with your back straight, and nothing worked.

Another deep exhale left you and you simply gave up - lying on your back and praying for no uncomfortable sensations for at least a few minutes.

Just as you felt your eyes droop - you wanted a few minutes to simply breathe - you felt a little kick to your left. It didn’t hurt, luckily for you, your little one seemed to be a pretty calm, small bundle so it wasn’t often any cry for attention left you rattled.

You did let out a little chuckle, rubbing the spot. As you rubbed at your stomach, small kick after small kick under your hand, you heard a key being inserted into the lock - the door opening and closing, keys rattling on the key hanger next to the door.

“Sweetheart? Where are my girls?” He asked, as you heard the familiar sounds of him hanging his jacket and satchel, and taking off his shoes. You’d decided the gender would be a surprise, but Spencer insisted that it was a girl - you had a feeling he wanted to be a girl dad.

You raised a hand, waving in the direction of the door, not wishing to move now, “We’re here, love.”

You didn’t attempt to push yourself up, you just stayed where you were, rubbing your belly and waiting for your husband to make his way over.

Sure enough, just a few seconds later he was kneeling next to the couch close to your head, moving pieces of hair away from your face.

“Hi.” He whispered before he leaned down and laid a series of small kisses all over your face - one on each cheek, one on your forehead and nose, finishing with a gentle press of his lips against yours. It still made a small shiver run through you, just like it always did.

“Hi.” You returned when he pulled away, watching him as he leaned towards your belly then, kissing just next to where your hands were still sitting. A kick followed his kiss like your baby knew it was his daddy having returned from work.

“Hi, little love.” It was his little nickname for them, and you loved it. You ran a hand through his hair then, soft and thick to the touch.

With his hand sitting next to yours, wedding band gleaming in the light, he pulled you into another small kiss. His face was inches away from yours.

“Can you stand up for a second, love?” He was whispering, content in keeping you three in a small bubble of touch and soft words.

“Why?” It sounded like a whine, but in your defense, everything felt more comfortable than before now that he was there.

His eyes softened then, understanding written all over his face, and a small smile on his slightly chapped lips too.

“Just want to try something JJ suggested. Please? It’s going to feel good, I promise.” He kissed your brown in reassurance, and promise.

You sighed again, allowing him to pull you up.

“If I hate this, you have to go get me those super sour lemon candies from the candy store on the other side of town, okay?” You bargained with him. You’ve been craving those since last night, but he’d been going out on a limp for your every whim and you wanted to cool it for a day or two and allow him some time to breathe.

He smiled softly, hand on your lower back, moving up and down.

“Okay, sour lemon candy it is.”

“What are we doing again?”

“Okay, I’m going to settle behind you, and I want you to lean your upper body against me, lay your head on my shoulder,” He instructed, moving behind you, hands on your hips just like he’d told you to do. His scent filled your nostrils, and you moved your head to the side to nuzzle his neck. He kissed your head, “Okay, now relax, and let me do all the work, yeah?” Again, soft, in a whisper.

“What work -” You started before you felt his hands settle underneath your bump, holding onto it, and allowing the weight to fall on his hands instead of falling on you. You felt light like you were no longer carrying your little bean, but instead, it was safely nestled into his father’s arms. A half sigh-half moan left you, so relieved, thankful in that moment, to JJ and to your husband.

“Good?” He asked. Tears gathered in your eyes, so overwhelmed by the reprieve. You nodded, just a tiny bit choked up at that moment.

“So, so good. Thank you.” You said, one hand moving to cup gently around his, face once again burying into his neck. You couldn’t believe the universe had granted you this man to be by your side for years to come. This dedicated, adorable, kindhearted man, and all his care.

He rubbed his thumb against your bump, feeling your little girl kick against him, and he kissed your hair, holding you both, doing his very best to help in any way he could. Just like he always would.

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fluff #reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid

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dreamofjoys · 1 year ago

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— 𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙀𝙂𝙂𝙎

Synopsis: Neuvillette has finally decided to lay his eggs in your womb

C/W: Oviposition, egg laying(5), afab, established relationship, a little bit of domestic moments, double d's cause why not, double penetration, mention of pain, belly bulging, cockwarming

A/N: Dragon people are into oviposition... i just know...

DO NOT READ / DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SUCH CONTENT! I WILL BLOCK YOU IF YOU MAKE ANY NEGATIVE COMMENTS (esp when I already stated the warnings) minors go away please.

NEUVILLETTE was gentle when he spread your sticky thighs apart, allowing his shaft to easily re-enter your sex again due to the lubrication of your fluids. He had spent hours stretching your hole out with his fingers and cocks, resulting to you constantly cumming and making a mess all over him.

The hydro dragon doesn't seem to mind. Instead, he pushes your back to the bed, positioning you in a missionary position while he fucks you with both of his dicks. "Sh-shit agh Neuvi, fe-feels so good!" Your eyes rolled to the back when his dicks hits onto your cervix with dead accuracy, his balls slapping onto your folds providing extra stimulation, making you cum once again.

Your husband eyes on your fluttering pussy hole before slowly pulling out, to test if there is any friction. His face turns into a deep shade of red when the erotic sound of sqwueesh happens. Your walls suddenly clamp down on him, seemingly not wanting him to leave your sex. "Love, I think you are ready." Neuvillette comments, looking back at you who seems to be babbling incoherant nonsense, too fucked out and disorientated to register what was going on.

Neuvillette re-positions you again. Your back was pressed onto his front, your legs spread wide with his own as he slots both of himself back in ease, sighing when your walls start fluttering around him again. You moaned in delight when your pussy feels full again, throwing your head back onto your husband's shoulders, hazy eyes looking up at him.

"Will it hurt when you push the eggs in?" So you still remember the agenda of today's sex. " A little, but I will make it fast. Just 5 eggs, tell me if it's too much."

"Hehe, if my husband wants me to take in more than that, I will gladly do so!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Neuvillete leans down to give you a peck on the cheek, his silver hair falls down at his action, tickling your naked body. "There is a limit to your mortal body. I won't hurt you just for my own primal desires." "But you just said that it will hurt a little when the eggs enter me though?"

"I want to start a family with you." He rest his forehead on yours, ocean blue eyes staring down at you. "If you want to back out now, I am also okay with it. I would never want to do something that you are not comfortable with." Your heart skip a beat at his words. This was the very man that you have married to. A kind and gentle soul that was willing to deny his own happiness just for yours.

"Is okay, I told you before that I wanted this. So please, do as you wish, make both of us parents." Upon hearing your words, all the blood in Neuvillette's body seems to have rushed to both of his cocks. His pale lips came crashing down on yours, hungrily devouring you. You gasped when he pinches on your harden nipple, his tongue taking this golden opportunity to slip inside your mouth, exploring every inch of it.

Your eyes widened in surprise when you felt the tip of his cock enlarging, your walls expanding to accommodate the size as something big and round slips into your womb. It seems like one of his cock was responsible for pushing the egg in while the other was just there to keep you nicely stretched. You pulled away from Neuvillette, a string of saliva attached to both of your lips, whimpering when you felt another egg entering your womb.

This whole process was testing the limits of your vagina. You start tearing up at the constant stretching of your walls, instinctively wanting to close your legs but a hand was immediately placed at the back of your thighs, stopping you from doing it.

"It will hurt more if you close your legs." Neuvillette whispers into your ear, his other hand snacking down to toy with your clit, trying to divert attention away from the pain. Your tear stained face breaks Neuvillette's heart, but he could only whisper sweet little nothings to you, telling you that he is so lucky so marry someone as beautiful as you, praising you for being able to take both of his cocks so well. You gripped onto his hand that was toying on your clit, body shaking when you felt the last egg being pushed into your womb, settling itself in it like it was meant to be there.

You look down to see a big bulge on your belly. The eggs were finally nestled inside your womb, safe from the outside. "Mhmmm... is it over?" You rub your eyes sleepily, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"Yes it is, love." Neuvillette's hand had switched to rubbing your folds up and down. He hums an old lullaby, the vibration of his chest lulls your tired state into sleep. Your husband position himself to lean onto the headboard while you sleep in his arms. His dicks were still inside you, not wanting to pull out as he did not want the eggs to slip out - or it could be just an excuse to do cockwarming.

His hand rubs your belly, feeling satisfied at his eggs being laid inside your womb.

Neuvillette thinks hard about what he can do to relieve you of your pain when you have to lay the eggs next time, especially since it's going to grow in size inside your belly.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette x reader smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette #tw smut #smut #ovipositor #fem reader #afab reader #afab #dreamofjoysgenshin

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moonstruckme · 6 months ago

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summary: when James moves into your apartment, you need a bit of an adjustment period

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

You go downstairs the way a meerkat pokes its head out of its burrow. Cautious, watchful. When you spot James standing over a sizzling pan in the kitchen, it’s a bit of effort not to sigh, but you go anyway, hunger temporarily taking priority over solitude. It’s just going to have to be another quick meal.

“Hey.” James looks up from a recipe he’s reading on his phone, grinning at you.

You press your lips together in a smile of response. The girl who’d occupied James’ room before him wouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge you, and frankly, you’d liked her for that. You’d had a mutually ambivalent relationship; you’d both paid your rent, ignored the other’s food in the fridge, and gone about your days as if you each had the apartment to yourself. She had to move out because the maintenance crew tattled on her for having a pet, and though James only moved in a week ago, he’s invited you to hang out with his friends every time they’ve come over. Which is often. (He’s at least considerate enough to always ask first, and you always say yes. Partially because they don’t make huge messes and partially because you don’t know how to reply to a yes/no question any other way.)

You go to the fridge, tearing the aluminum foil off a half-empty can of beans and shaking it into a bowl. You put it in the microwave. James reaches to turn down the stove, and, like a frightened animal, you flinch away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, only retreating to the opposite counter to give you more room.

“How’s your day going?” he asks, leaning back on his forearms.

“Not bad,” you say. Another thing about James is that in addition to his relentless geniality, he’s ferociously attractive. It takes all of your willpower not to let your eyes dip from his face to where his short sleeves conform to his biceps when he leans that way, but your face heats regardless. “Yours?”

“Pretty good, actually.” He smiles easily. “It’s gorgeous out, have you felt the weather?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t been out yet.”

James nods like he knows this already, humming noncommittally. You think you spy a bit of judgment in his look, but you can’t be sure. “So,” he says, “I have something to ask you.”

You tense. “Okay…”

“I know you value your privacy, and I totally respect that, but I feel like as your roommate it’s my responsibility to at least ask.”

You feel your eyes narrowing as you nod for him to continue.

James schools his face into seriousness, a frown on his lips that looks like it doesn’t belong. “Do you not eat?”

You laugh, relieved and bemused. “Of course I eat.”

The smile he gives you is strained, clearly for your benefit rather than his. “You sure about that? Because this morning I just saw you have one—one—piece of toast for breakfast, and then for lunch you had…what?”

You shy, more because of his notice than anything else. The microwave beeps and you use it as an excuse to turn around. “Some cheese and crackers.”

When you pivot with the steaming bowl, James is looking at you incredulously.

“They’re really filling!”

“That’s a snack, love, not a meal. Both of those are snacks. Did you have anything else?”

You hold up the bowl in your hand. “I’m about to have some beans.”

His laugh is monosyllabic. Appalled. “You’re not serious.”

You roll your eyes at him even as your face heats. “Listen, it’s not my most nutritious day, but I’ve been in a rush, and…” You were going to say more, but decide against it. “Anyway, there’s protein in the beans, so.”

James isn’t having it. “And what?”

“Nothing.”

“Something.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, spill, or I’m going to call your mum and tell her about your big day of—“ He draws quotes in the air, full lips curving he does “—beans and crackers.”

“And toast,” you joke. James’ smile is small and short-lived. Does he really have your mum’s phone number? He can’t possibly.

You sigh. “Okay, it’s nothing to do with you, but I…I’m a bit weird about being in the kitchen at the same time.” James’ thick eyebrows meet in the middle, and your shoulders hunch instinctively but you force yourself to finish explaining. “I just want to grab whatever is quickest and go before I make things awkward, or something. But I know it’s stupid.” You shake your head. You could burn the apartment to cinders with the heat from your face. “I don’t own the kitchen. You have every right to be here, and I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just that you’re new to me right now.”

James' expression clears. “Oh, you’re shy.”

You must look even more embarrassed at that, because he hurries to say, “That’s alright, it’s good to know how you feel about things. And now I don’t have to call your mum.” He grins, and it widens when you make a tiny effort to reciprocate. “I don’t mind stepping out of the kitchen so you can cook every now and then.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“It’s no trouble.” He waves you off. “Honestly, it’s too small for both of us to comfortably use at the same time anyway. Careful by the way, that pan’s hot.”

You glance behind you, and you’ve backed yourself nearly into the stove. You move away, squeaking out a thanks.

James’ smile softens. “I do hope you're right about getting used to me eventually, though.” He gives you a kind look, and you have no idea how he can maintain eye contact with that much sincerity in his big brown eyes. You envy the skill. “I’d like to get to be friends, but we’ve got time for that.”

You’ve no clue how to respond, some deer-in-the-headlights instinct taking ahold of you, but James doesn’t seem to be expecting one. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, taking back his place at the stove. You take that as your cue to go.

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fluffylino · 5 days ago

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angry sex with mean!dom minho

things get heated when the two of yall decide to have a petty argument.

-contains mature themes (minho is mean but its all consensual...sir kink?!?!?)

minho's pissed.

you're pissed.

the atmosphere in the apartment is beyond unimaginable. you came back from university, in a bad mood. sometimes people merely existing made you angry.

you couldn't explain it but you weren't in a great mood at all, and you weren't in the mood to try and make yourself calm down.

minho comes home, half an hour later. quietly entering and slamming the front door behind him.

not even bothering to keep his keys on the glass table with more care. walking right past you to the bedroom.

he has that look on his face when he joins you in the kitchen. drinking the water you had poured for him absentmindedly.

"wash the glass, will you" you mutter, sighing in exasperation. you knew this would only make things worse.

"what?" and his tone gets laced with irritation.

"i had a bad day, okay and i'm not in a good mood" you say to him. leaning back on the fridge.

"yeah? you think i'm not having a fucked up day too?" he spits back, crossing his arms, ready for battle.

"i never said that. stop being so bitchy"

"fix your attitude." minho warns. looking down at his feet before rolling his eyes at your behaviour.

"stop rolling your eyes at me" pointing a finger at him in annoyance.

"don't point a finger at me"

raising an eyebrow at you with a challenging look in his eyes.

"why don't you just go pick a fight with chan or seungmin"

you seethe out, not wanting to argue. if the two of you got more time to calm your nerves this wouldn't have happened.

"pick a fight? what the fuck"

he mutters under his breath. and it makes your eyes burn with tears. now he's mad at you.

"what fucking attitude do i have. i'm sick of dealing with people"

you raise your voice, exhaling heavily.

"and you think i'm not? i just had dance practice for nearly six hours and they told me i needed to do better"

minho says through gritted teeth. running his fingers through his messy hair.

"maybe you do need to do better" you snark back. wanting to get on his nerves just for the hell of it.

"watch what you say."

he warns for the second time and you take it as a challenge.

"or what? you're going to give me a lecture on how to..."

bringing your hands up to gesture quotation marks

"...fix my attitude?"

🐱

"not gonna fight back huh." your mouth opens to curse at him. and he uses it as the opportunity to pull you back.

ramming himself deeper into you.

"fucking brat"

minho grits out, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your sides. grip strong enough to have him holding you up singlehandedly if he wanted to.

"took it too far. i'm a bitch?" his voice shakes when your arms give in. falling face down into the sheets. back arched and ass up. the position makes things more sensitive.

"answer me."

you can't. teething at the pillow while you fisted at the soft bedsheets beside you. trying to ground yourself.

the feeling of his length pushing in and out of you with slow hard thrusts. torturing himself just to torture you.

"answer." eyes widening at the way he lays a sharp slap over your cunt. all while pulling out all the way.

"me."

sliding past your swollen walls with a filthy squelch. his force strong enough to have your whole body jerk forward. gasping in ecstasy.

you shake your head. or atleast try to, eyes rolling back at the strength he uses to meanly shove your thighs even further apart.

till you're practically presenting to him.

"open that smart ass mouth and use your fucking words." his tone dropping. theres a heartbeat of silence as he gives you a few seconds to answer him.

"ah- m-minnie"

moaning embarassingly loud when he slides his hand down the curve of your back. tugging a fistful of your hair, forcing you up on your arms. till you're on your fours.

"minnie? its sir to you. you don't deserve to even call me minho."

scalp burning with a mix of pain and pleasure.

your mind buzzing when he also gets on his fours. body pressing into yours from above.

"who's a bitch now"

minho says in your ear. brushing his lips against your earlobe. it sends a wave of heat straight to your cunt. throbbing uncontrollably around his dick.

the position has you thinking of how pathetic you are. cursing him out, only to be fucked like a dog from behind.

"are you my needy little bitch" hooking his chin on your shoulder. his arms on either side of yours.

thick thighs framing your smaller ones. you feel small under him. small and weak.

"y-yes sir" whispering softly. chest burning with humiliation. he clicks his tongue. not satisfied.

"speak up, mutt."

"yes sir...m'your needy bitch"

fucking the sentence out of you, in a way that has you breathless. arms trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up.

"taking it like you're in heat."

slowing his thrusts to roll his hips into yours. hitting that spongey spot that has you keening for him.

"next time you act like a fucking brat, don't expect me to be this kind"

he warns, subtly rubbing at the redness on your sides from how hard he was gripping your waist.

you nod vigorously. quietly mumbling apologies.

"is my needy puppy gonna take me all the way in her tight wet cunt hm"

"if i'm your bitch, you're my bitch" you whisper, lightly smacking him on the chest.

"i never said i wasn't a bitch" minho smirks, successfully teasing you.

"y'know i love you, right baby?" he mumbles, kissing your cheek lovingly.

"you're my cute little puppygirl or WAIT MY KITTY CAT!!!"

tada!

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tasteleeknow · 6 months ago

Text

handled.

minors dni. minho x fem!reader. hands on necks (not exactly choking but choking adjacent). dirty talk. slightly rough piv. soft!dom minho.

It's not what you expect, the first time someone reaches out to wrap their fingers around your throat. It's during a lesson in self-defence, part of a compulsory skill. You flinch away as their fingertips graze your skin, scrunching your shoulders at the unnatural feeling. It's not a neutral act, a simple experience of skin on skin.

There's something deep down, an instinct designed to make the feeling of another person's hands around your neck inherently discomforting.

It takes many attempts for you to build a tolerance to it, the anxious feeling never settling completely despite your ability to hold still.

It was hard to imagine how the act could ever elicit anything other than that deep, instinctual urge to squirm away.

Until him.

His fingers flex as he tugs the black glove down his wrist a little further. It's a vital part of his costume as far as your concerned, a last minute addition ties up his all-black theme perfectly.

"Are you having fun?" you question, back pressed against a wall in a dark corner of the room.

The New Year was around the corner, the costume party in full swing around you. It'd taken a doe eyed look and a soft kiss to his neck to convince your boyfriend to join you.

He offers you a small lopsided smile, the delicate lip ring balanced prettily on his lower lip. "Mm," he hums with a small nod.

You tug him a little closer, "You sure? I know it's a little more crowded than I—"

"I'm fine," he says, the bare fingers of his glove free hand stroking gently over your wrist. "I'm all good."

If you were being totally honest with yourself, a (not so small) part of you hope he'd ask to leave. Getting him dressed up like this was the best part of the entire night, you'd decided. Now, you'd very much rather be at home taking the costume off him than stand around in a crowd of drunk partygoers.

The lip ring presses into his plush lip a little as he nibbles at it for a moment. You could leave the accessories on him. The ring, the silver necklace hanging around his collar—just long enough to tickle your chin if he was above you... and then there was the glove. Your eyes drop involuntarily to the hand in question.

"What about you?" Minho asks, tugging your eyes back to his.

"Hm?"

"Having fun?"

You blink.

He smiles, keenly aware of your propensity to drift elsewhere. "What you thinking about?" he asks. You would have answered him. You were too far into your relationship to be timid about such things. But then... then he reaches up with that hand... the dark, smooth fabric cool against your skin as he tilts your chin up a little. "Talk to me," he encourages gently.

Oh, he knows. Of course, he knows.

"Do you like my costume?"

His eyes drop down your body quickly. "Mm," he hums. "Very pretty."

"I like yours too."

He fails to suppress an amused, knowing smile. "Yeah?" His hand drifts from your chin along your jaw, coming to rest just below your ear. It allows his gloved thumb to play with your lobe a little as he steps into you a little more. "What do you like about it?"

"Fishing for compliments?"

"You seem desperate to offer them."

You frown, "No."

"No?" he questions, stepping even closer. He's pressed against you now, warm and dark—a barrier between you and the rest of the room. "My sweet girl wouldn't lie to me." He leans over you, lips brushing your jawline. "Would she?" he adds with a whisper. His breath tickles, hot against your sensitive neck.

You realise your error then. It was too late. The time had passed for you to drag him home and tear the dark clothes from him in the privacy of your shared apartment.

It was happening here.

Your eyes flick quickly across the room before you're grabbing his wrist and tugging him along with you, dodging drunk friends and acquaintances as you beeline for the hallway door.

Minho chuckles behind you, letting you tug him along without resistance.

You'd let you of tomorrow contemplate the decisions you make next. When you find each room taken, occupied by a couple or a group of intoxicated friends, you tug open the laundry door and slam it behind you both. There's a small lock on the door handle. You twist it.

"You like it that much, then?" Minho says from behind you.

He's leaning against the washing machine when you turn, arms crossed—sleeves rolled to his elbows.

You take in a few shallow breaths before he's stepping towards you and lifting you off your feet. It shouldn't be as easy as it is for him to lift you on top of the dryer. He settles between your legs, hands gliding up and down your thighs a few times.

His dark hair has loosened a little over the evening, the hairspray you'd used to keep it in place off his forehead giving into the humidity and copious tousles by distracted fingers. There's a lock hanging just over one of his eyes.

You reach up to brush it aside delicately.

"I lied," Minho whispers, seemingly prompted out of silence by your action. "When I said it's pretty..." he thumbs at the hem of your dress where he's slipped it up your thigh. "...I lied." His fingers brush your skin on one thigh, the fabric of his glove is cold against the other. "Pretty isn't right," he continues. "It makes me want to hold you down... sink into you..." His gloved hand snakes up your side slowly, coming to rest at the base of your neck. His fingers are splayed out across your collarbones, just below the point that would normally make you itch to squirm away.

"Min?"

His eyes flick up from your neck. His fingers twitch against you. "Mm," he hums. It's a sweet sound, in total contrast to the way he looks at you. Like he wants to tear you apart. You find you like the idea. You also find... that you wish his fingers would inch up just a little.

It's not a thought you dwell on. Instead you reach up slowly, like he might spook, and wrap your fingers around his wrist.. then slowly... gently... you guide his hand up to your throat. His eyes stay fixed on yours; his fingers ghost light on your skin.

"Don't look at me like that," he says as your fingers squeeze his wrist. "All fucking sweet like you don't want me to—"

"Please," you interrupt.

He leans forward with a groan, lips pressing to the side of your neck. He squeezes slightly at the movement. It's enough to have you dropping your head back.

It's different. It's so different to how it'd been with a stranger, with someone other than him. This makes you want to crawl under his skin, beg him to hold you and consume you—to take you. His. His. His.

"Minho," you gasp as his lips part and suck at your neck, his wet tongue poking out to lave at the marks he leaves as he goes.

His hand stays at your neck as he works, a comforting and steady pressure. He's got you, it says.

A tiny clink breaks you from your trance. His lip ring is gone when he pulls back, fallen into the dark and bouncing off things around you as it goes. You could not care less. You tug him back towards you, hands at the back of his neck to guide him. His lips are wet and hot against yours, moving with a laziness that did not at all align with upbeat music and countdown starting outside.

His tongue slips out to meet yours, his body falling over you a little in a desperate attempt to get closer. 8...7...6... the partygoers chant. Your fingers grasp at his hair, tugging a little. He whines. 3...2... You could be anywhere... you ponder as the cheers start and the new year begins. You could be anywhere and anytime, and all that would matter would be whether he was there with you.

His breath comes out in deep gasps when you finally part. It's a brief reprieve. He's on you in the next second, tugging your hips towards his and burying himself inside you. It's your turn to attach yourself to his neck, kissing and biting your way through his sharp drives into you. The dryer bangs against the wall behind you with each one.

"This what you wanted?" he gasps as you fall back on your hands. His hands grasp your hips. One warm. One cold. "Hm?"

His lips glisten with spit, a mixture of each of you. You're about to reach towards him again, desperate to taste him, when he releases one hand from your hip.

It's the bare hand this time, that wraps around your neck. It's worse—better. His fingers twitch each time he pumps into you. Your pulse flutters against them. You can feel it.

Then he pauses, tugs you flush against him—buried deep. "My sweet girl," he says. He presses his fingers into your skin at each side of your neck. It doesn't cut off your breath, instead, your cunt clenches around him—your high taking you off guard. It's a rush, a heaviness in your head that seems to match perfectly with the heavy, fullness of his cock buried deep.

There's something deep down, an instinct designed to make the feeling of another person's hands around your neck inherently discomforting. And then... there's this.

#stray kids smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know fanfic #kpop smut #kpop imagines #skz smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios

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livinginshambles · 1 year ago

Text

No, you listen to me | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Aftermath of when you ran away from the Yule ball, cinderella style. after the Christmas holidays, both of you return to hogwarts with different objectives. James tries to find out who you are. You try to make sure he never will.

Notes: Not proofread. Mistakes. Once again because people keep forgetting, english is my third language, be kind. Themes of bullying, discrimination, very bad sister relationships. Regulus is like a BROTHER. James tries?

Masterlist Part one. Part three

_________________________

Your eyes scanned across the parchment, rereading James’ apology, but all you could really feel was disappointment and anger. What was even the point of trying to prove anyone wrong? You leaned back against the cushions of the armchair and pulled your knees up, wrapping your arms around them to steadily lock them in place. Then you let your head drop.

You pressed your watering eyes into your knee, effectively letting your pajama pants soak up any tears that threatened to fall. You gently rocked yourself back and forth while you tried to clear your mind. You wouldn’t let any of this get to you.

A hand pressed itself to your back, right between your shoulder blades. “Let’s get you out of here,” Regulus spoke up. His tone was hard, but only because of his clenched jaw when he thought back to how you had run off with a betrayed look. The second he realized it was James who was the mystery guy, he had kept a close eye. He knew things wouldn’t end well with those prejudiced twats, and he was right.

You pathetically looked up at him, and Regulus didn’t bother to hide his grimace at the sight of your face.

“Don’t exaggerate you arse,” you mumbled and shoved him light-heartedly.

“Back at you,” Regulus shot back. Then he sighed and motioned for you to scootch over so he could squeeze himself to fit in the armchair with you. “I know you. And I know you know what my brother and his friends are like. Why are you so disappointed?”

You stared at the lit fireplace, lost in thoughts, and eventually shrugged when Regulus nudged you out of your train of thoughts.

“I guess- I really liked the guy on the other side of the paper. And I really hoped that maybe he’d be in there somewhere. And I suppose that for a moment I actually thought James Potter was alright, you know?”

Regulus scrunched his nose in distaste. “Not at all, but go on.”

You shook your head in amusement at him, but let your eyes soften. “I’m sorry Reg,” you whispered.

“What for?”

“Making you listen to me whining about a guy that I know you have personal issues with.” You decided not to mention out loud the fact that those personal issues included the way Sirius had left Regulus behind in that household, escaping to live with the Potters and going as far as publicly calling James his true brother. Found family, he had proudly said.

Regulus knew what you were referring to. He smiled bitterly. “Well, brothers are overrated anyways. I’d much rather have a sister,” he said while nudging you again.

You hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know Reg; I’ll have to disagree with you on this one. I’d much rather have a brother than any number of sisters.”

“How convenient for us.”

“Very convenient indeed,” you smiled happily.

Regulus got up suddenly and turned to you with a stretched out hand. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I meant what I said, you know. Let’s get you out of here. I do recall you promising me tea at your new apartment.” He looked at his pocket watch. “Well, it’s 5 o’clock in the morning, and the first train leaves at 6. What’s the difference between leaving in the evening or right now.”

“You absolute champ.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

You laugh whole-heartedly and stuff the parchment in your transfigurations book. You and Regulus took the first train and left Hogwarts behind for the Christmas holidays. A break would do you good. Godric knows you needed to get James off your mind.

James carefully placed the glass slippers in his suitcase and covered them with a few sweaters just in case. He had caught the elves recklessly throwing suitcases into the storage compartment of the Hogwarts express before. You’d think that the use of magic would come in handy for tasks like this, but no.

“Prongs, I got you this?” Sirius pushed a sheet of bubble wrap into James’ arms. James offered Sirius an appreciative look.

After thoroughly explaining everything, from the moment when he found the parchment, to who you were and why he decided that he wanted to become someone you would approve of, Sirius had pieced the rest together and apologized to James for leaving such a shit impression on his mystery date.

James sheepishly pointed at his own solution. “Should I change it?”

“Well, I mean did you see how the elves throw around with our luggage?”

James mirrored Sirius' grin. This break truly came at a perfect time. After all, James would let you occupy his mind as much as he needed to find out who you were.

Two weeks flew by in a blur. You and Regulus had set up a Christmas tree inside your small apartment and had made a competition out of finding the most impressive gift for each other, with only 10 galleons.

You had found the most gorgeous black quill and enchanted ink set for him and were rather confident until Regulus had somehow shown up with what looked like emerald, antique and gorgeously over the top earrings. You had shot him a look and he had immediately provided a receipt to prove he had played fair.

“I just have great negotiating skills,” he’d said.

You had hummed skeptically in reply but had happily tried them on.

All in all, the holidays were a very welcome break for you. Which is why you were so very reluctant to pack your bags. The door to your room opened and Regulus stood in the entrance, leaning against the door frame.

“Get out,” you groaned in dismay at the interruption. Regulus shot you an unimpressed look.

“Not until I see you pack; we leave in less than an hour.”

You huffed in annoyance and threw a pillow at his head. “I’m not asking you again, Black.” You flopped back down on your bed dramatically in dismay at the prospect of going back to Hogwarts. Regulus elegantly tilted his head and let the pillow fly past him.

“One hour,” he enunciated, before walking off.

You threw another pillow his way and yelled, “Close the door when you leave, you twat!”

With a flick of his wand, your door closed.

Regulus waited for you with a bag in his hand.

“Where’s the rest of it,” you teased as you motioned to the small amount of luggage he held.

Regulus turned red but stuck his chin up. “Left them here for the summer,” he off-handedly replied. You laughed. “Great, so you can help carry this bag then,” you grinned and pushed your smaller bag into his hands while you marched out the door with your heavy luggage, dragged behind you.

When you entered the platform, and were handed the Hogwarts newspaper, you did not expect to find a picture of you and James at the Yule ball on the front page. ‘Who are you, Willow?’

You immediately folded the paper together and looked up in panic at Regulus. He looked around and found different students excitedly chittering to each other, all while pointing at the newspaper.

“That is so romantic,”

“I thought James was with Lily?”

“No, they’re just friends now.”

“I was wondering who he was dancing with.”

“She looks so pretty.”

“If I found out that my date was James Potter, I’d take off that mask immediately.”

“Well, she could just be shy.”

“So true, probably Hufflepuff, don’t you think?

“I really hope he finds her.”

You grimaced at everyone and all you wanted to do was disappear. “Relax, Y/N,” Regulus smoothly pulled you on board the Hogwarts Express. “No one will know it’s you.”

Despite knowing that he was absolutely right, you still faced the floor as you looked for an empty compartment. You didn’t realize that you were passing James, who had just come back from a train meeting with the other prefects. He had picked up on Regulus’ words and frowned. But before he could really stop to consider Regulus’ statement, Peter happily waved at him from the marauders’ compartment. “We’re over here!” he called out. James forgot about what he heard.

Remus held the newspaper up in the air when James finally took a seat. “Really?”

“It was Pad’s idea,” James immediately said.

Peter curiously grabbed the newspaper. “Any results?”

James shrugged. “It’s only the first day,” he tries to convince himself, but he was not very sure about this approach to find you.

“It’s going to work out, trust me,” Sirius said. “When she sees that you’re going to this extent to find her, you’ll definitely woo her for sure,” he claimed.

Remus pulled a face. “I mean, if she ran off cause you two were being pricks, again,” he gave both Sirius and James a sharp look. “And hasn’t answered any of your messages, I don’t think starting a witch-hunt of sorts is the way to find her,” he voiced out his opinion. ”She clearly doesn’t want to be found.”

“What are you calling my methods bad?” Sirius squinted his eyes at Remus in mock offense.

“I’m just saying they wouldn’t exactly woo me,” Remus dryly remarked.

“And yet-“

“Guys,” James interrupted. “I just want to find her and apologize. And ask her for another chance to prove that I’m more than what she saw.”

“Well,” Peter started. He turned red when all eyes were suddenly on him. “She will probably not reveal herself. But she’s still a student here. And she knows who you are. So maybe if you publicly show off kind acts, she’ll see how you can be?”

There was a beat of silence and for a moment, Peter wanted to change into a rat and crawl into a hole to hide. But suddenly he was patted on the back by James. “Peter, you absolute champ!”

James Potter was acting weird, and you knew exactly what he was trying to do. You huffed to yourself as you marched right past him while he held the door open for his friends and you, who trailed in right behind them.

Previously, James would have definitely let the door fall in your face, and you had anticipated so, thus smoothly switching your books to your left arm, putting your right hand in front of you in a bracing manner. And so it happened that you stood there frozen, hand flat against James' chest, because he had turned around fully to hold the door open for you.

You embarrassedly dropped your hand that still lingered against him, and a deep frown settled on your face.

“I’d take ten points from Slytherin for touching a student without their consent, but I suppose I’ll let it slide for today,” he arrogantly said. You wanted to beat him up. But you supposed you could let it slide for today. You scowled at him and fled past him towards your designated seat.

Something tugged inside James’ chest as he watched you turn your back towards him and hurry away. He walked to join the rest of the marauders, a ghost feeling of your palm against his chest.

It hadn’t just been you that he was more civilized with. You noticed when you found him volunteering in the library, putting away books back on the shelves manually. This bothered you, because he tended to specifically linger around the particular section in the back about Egyptian rites, your favorite. You knew he was there to hopefully spot any often-returning students.

You also noticed that less and less students were coming back to the common room, hexed. Aside from snide remarks, you hadn’t encountered much animosity from him anymore either.

Instead, you found yourself on assigned patrol with him, despite the fact that Regulus had kindly offered to jinx his broom during Quidditch practice so you wouldn’t have to.

“So,” James broke the silence. “How was your holiday?”

“Why do you want to know,” you immediately shot back before you could stop yourself. James raised his hands in surrender. “Woah, sorry, L/N, just making conversation here.”

You sighed and forced your shoulders to lose their tension. “It was fine.”

“Fine.” James repeated.

“Fine,” you confirmed.

That was the end of your conversation, in your opinion. James however, seemed to think differently.

“So did you get any nice presents?”

You shot him an annoyed look but ended up answering anyway. “Yes actually, Regulus got me these earrings,” you said, and you tilted your head to show him. James’ eyes lingered on your earrings. They looked good on you. The exaggerated gem made you stand out despite your sober attire.

“What else?”

“What do you mean, what else?”

“Why, did your parents not buy you anything or what?”

You halted mid-step and stared up at James. He noticed that he had said something wrong, and when your sisters came to mind, he hurriedly tried to take his words back. You didn’t let him.

“I don’t go home for the holidays,” you settled on. “I’m not particularly welcome there. My parents are as big of a fan of me, as Alyssa and Marla are.” You laughed bitterly and continued walking. James followed behind you, he didn’t say a word, instead waited for you to continue.

“Well, I’m in Slytherin after all. Which obviously equals being an evil blood supremacist. They wouldn’t want to associate themselves with that, of course,” you sarcastically remarked.

James felt guilt slowly seep in. Your words resonated in his mind and his hands grasped the folded parchment in the pocket of his robes tightly. Those were his exact same words of that night at the Yule ball, and he bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him, surprise evident in your eyes. “You’re sorry?” You asked him in disbelief.

James nodded. If he couldn’t say it to his mystery girl, at least he could say it to you, he figured.

James watched your eyes light up slightly and for a moment, he was lost in a trance. He snapped out of it when you returned the question. “So how was your holiday?”

He grinned at the olive branch that you were reaching out. “Mine was fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” he teased. You fought the smile that threatened to tug on your lips.

Patrol ended without any incidents to report and when you wrote that down, James peered over your shoulder to catch your circled dot on the ‘i’ of “nothing to report.” A sense of déjà vu dawned on him, but the sheer unconscious refusal to even consider you a possibility kept your secret safe.

When you were in bed that night, you couldn’t help but think about how at ease you had felt for the remainder of the night with James, basking in the familiarity of the person behind the paper.

With every patrol, you two put another step forward in the direction of a friendship of some sorts.

James couldn't deny the fact that with each time, he started to look forward to the next time, almost the same giddy feeling fluttering in his stomach as each time he would unfold his parchment to find new kind words written there.

You and Willow would be friends, James thought, as he looked at you while you were casually explaining Transfiguration to him while you two strolled through the corridors, not without the occasional insult at his 'lack of competence'.

But for now, James enjoyed the privilege of calling you by your first name. A friend of some sorts, he liked to think.

Perhaps he was wrong about Slytherins. Sure, there were some rotten apples, but he supposed there were rotten apples in each house. And you weren't so bad after all.

For the first time in a long time, you enjoyed your days at Hogwarts. Truly enjoyed them. You would send Regulus to the library to get you your favourite books, and would patrol every Thursday with James unless he had Quidditch practice. Then you would patrol with Abrams. You’d come across James, who would nod with a kind smile at you as you two have come to be cautious friends and patrol-partners. You hadn’t really heard anything from your sisters either, which was absolute bliss as well.

But then one day, you were studying Transfiguration by yourself in the library, and you just so happened to need to go to the bathroom. When you returned, you noticed your book was missing and you pulled a sour face before requesting a new one from Professor McGonagall who had looked over her glasses at you.

But that hadn’t been the bad part. No, the bad part was that you had completely forgotten that you had put your enchanted parchment that connected yours to James’ inside that book.

Sirius had victoriously grinned at his funny prank idea. He would change some spells in your book so that you would mess up and become a toad in class. He tossed the book on a table in the common room and a piece of paper slid out.

Sirius had seen the piece of paper before, and his eyes grew as wide as saucers. He jumped up, ran towards his room, and rummaged through James’ nightstand before finding James' parchment under his pillow and wrote something on it. He walked back down the stairs with James’ paper, and he watched in disbelief as a messy ‘hello’ appeared on the paper that your sisters now held. “Merlin,” he breathed out, but your sisters had already stormed out of the room.

You entered the Great Hall and felt everyone staring at you and whispering. Even fellow Slytherin students looked at you in contempt. You gave Regulus a confused look when you walked to the free seat next to him. He quietly slid over the Hogwarts newspaper.

Front page again. ‘Mystery girl uncovered. Not a Willow, but a Hanging Tree.”

You didn’t need to read the rest; you tore your eyes away from the paper. Tears threatened to spill, but you tried to keep a cool front. You turned around to look for James and found him and his friends sitting right behind you.

Whoever thought that putting The Gryffindor table and Slytherin table next to each other should rot in the dungeons, you bitterly thought.

It was your sister who spoke up first. “I can’t believe someone like you would make themselves out to be a victim. ‘Oh no, my sisters bully me,’” she mocked you.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks and got up. She got up as well and you stood eye to eye with each other. “You’re pathetic,” She sneered. “You’re the real mistake here. So go do what you do best- run away.”

You wanted to say something. Anything. But you felt weak and small again. So you turned around and walked away. Whispers continued to fill the room as everyone seemed to have something to say about you.

“How embarrassing.”

“She should be ashamed”

“A Slytherin like her?”

“She definitely wasted James’ time.”

With every comment you heard, you bit harder on the inside of your cheek, and when that last comment dropped, you balled your fists. Why should you be the one to walk away?

You turned around furiously and marched back towards James, who had gotten up to follow you and reached out his hand. You recoiled.

“Y/N, listen-“

“No, you listen to me,” you spat at him. You looked him up and down with a pained look, holding back tears of frustration and while trying to convey as much disgust as you could.

“If you didn’t like what you found out, you could’ve kept it to yourself and thrown the damn paper away. You had no right to publicly try to humiliate me like this. All of your kindness in an attempt to be a good person only shows how wretched you really are when you stop pretending and act cruelly true to yourself.”

James' eyes flashed with hurt and he shook his head, words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to cover his ears; he didn’t want to hear you say this to him. This isn’t what he wanted at all. You were wrong. He didn’t even know it was you until he saw the newspaper this morning.

But you weren’t finished talking yet.

“Has it ever even occurred to any of you,” you looked at the people behind him. You stared your sisters dead in the eye. “That maybe your prejudice and thoughtless assumptions and insults about how awful or evil we Slytherins are, is the very thing that pushes us down that path?”

You turned your attention back to James, who had an unreadable expression on his face now. “Your cruel comments are part of the reason and you, James Potter, are especially cruel.”

Your tone was sharp, face hardened and the entire Great Hall had fallen silent. Not even the professors spoke up. James felt like you had hit him in the face, and you might as well have. He looked down in shame at your words.

You shakily let out your breath and lowered your voice again. This time, you sounded tired. Reality seemed to dawn upon you that everyone in the great hall was listening to you, and you shook your head to yourself, taking a step back. You scoffed softly.

“I suppose you are truly worthy of the Gryffindor name; overly proud and arrogant in the name of bravery with a tendency to prove yourself, disregarding others and their feelings.” Your venomous words cut through James' heart.

James watched you walk away again and everything around him seemed to fade. He was losing you again. How had he not seen this?

Your situation with your sisters. The way you ran away at the Yule ball when he made a crude remark about Slytherins. The sense of déjà vu every time you walked past him, back turned towards him. Your handwriting. The feeling of your hand pressed to his chest just as when you two danced. The way you were great at transfiguration and could have easily transfigured those glass slippers. The way Regulus was the only student to frequently visit your favourite book section in the library. The chills you had sent down his back when you had allowed him to call you by your first name, and in return had called him James.

‘I’m in Slytherin after all. Which obviously equals being an evil blood supremacist.’

‘No one will know it’s you.’

Everyone knows.

Preview if interested

Part three

Taglist:

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#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #young james potter #young james potter x reader #marauder x reader #marauders x reader

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icyminghao · 4 months ago

Text

lean on me

pairing: husband!mingyu x gn!reader genre: drabble, hurt/comfort, some fluff warning(s): mentions of food, mean coworkers word count: 0.9k

summary: your husband seems to be feeling down, but you can’t seem to figure out why.

Your husband’s being awfully quiet tonight.

He’d come back home a few hours ago, saying nothing other than a soft “Hi” in reply to your enthusiastic greeting, and immediately went to take a shower without smothering you in hugs and kisses.

Which is incredibly unusual, considering his tendency to start telling you anything and everything about his day the moment he walks through the front door to your shared apartment despite having told you almost everything through text already (to your endearment). Coupled with the fact that today was his first day at his new job, you fully expected Mingyu to have many things to recount from his day at work and the welcome dinner afterwards.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, you try to recall the events of the day as you scroll through your text history with your husband, but come up short. Your eyes gloss over the last few texts he’d sent you as you purse your lips together in thought.

my gyu: i’m going to the welcome dinner now!! [18:01]

my gyu: i’m so excited :) can’t wait to tell u all abt it!! [18:01]

you: so excited for u!! have fun bb <3 [18:02]

you: how’s the dinner? [20:12]

The realisation that your husband never replied to your text hits you only now, and you’re met with the sudden urge to check up on him.

You pocket your phone, brows furrowed as you shuffle through the apartment and into your bedroom, only to be met with Mingyu’s back as he lies down on the side of the bed further away from the door.

If your suspicions are correct, your husband is most definitely not sleeping.

Something must’ve happened at the welcome dinner.

You creep towards Mingyu, climbing onto your side of the bed and engulfing your husband in a back hug immediately. Mingyu tenses for a split second before resting his hands on your arms.

“Is everything okay?” your voice is soft, and you plant a kiss on the back of Mingyu’s neck while waiting patiently for a response. Mingyu hums weakly in affirmation.

Silence ensues as you don’t probe him further, deciding to give him time to process things.

Your husband sits up and turns around to face you after a while, and you smile at him while following suit, hoping to give him some of your energy.

“I went to the welcome dinner earlier…” Mingyu begins as you nod, reaching out to hold his hands in yours as you rub circles on the back of his hands.

“They said it was company tradition to diss the newcomer, so that’s what they did once we got a few drinks in,” you raise an eyebrow at Mingyu’s words, but make no move to interrupt him. “The jabs were funny at first, but some of them started talking about my lisp and imitating it, and I just didn’t find it funny anymore. I didn’t say anything, company tradition and all, and I feel stupid for even feeling upset when they were just joking and—”

“It’s not a joke if it’s making you upset, baby,” you can’t take it anymore, deciding to cut him off while squeezing his hands tighter. “Your feelings are valid, and they shouldn’t have made fun of you like that. Not then, and not ever.”

Mingyu’s eyes start glistening, a result of him tearing up at your words. “But if- if this is a running tradition, then the others would have been able to handle the disses. I’m just- sensitive for no reason, right?”

You detach one of your hands from your husband’s to cup his cheek, a deep frown etched on your face.

“Baby,” you begin, slowly picking and choosing your words in your head, “You’re not being sensitive, you’re allowed to feel upset about this. This… ‘tradition’ is already very questionable in the first place, and I’m really sorry you had to go through that. It just doesn’t sit right with me to have people literally insult and make fun of you and for you to have to be fine with it. You can feel upset. In fact, you should feel upset, because there’s literally no world where such behaviour should be condoned.”

Mingyu leans into your touch, letting the first tear fall from his left eye. Your heart aches so much, and you pull Mingyu into your embrace, where sobs start racking his body as he buries his face into your neck.

“T-thank you,” your husband manages between sobs, and you squeeze him tighter around you. “You’re always so good to me.”

As a people-centric person, Mingyu tends to put others’ concerns and well-being first, often disregarding himself and his own feelings that it eventually culminates into him feeling miserable. Even then, however, he puts up a front as much as he can, and it breaks your heart every time you see him like this. You’re determined to remind him that he’s loved, and that his feelings, just like anyone else’s, matters.

The next few minutes or so are spent in each other’s arms as you encourage Mingyu to cry his heart out, and it’s a while later when he’s calmed down, head on your chest as you both lie down and get ready to retire for the night.

“I love you,” Mingyu whispers, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw. “I should quit my job, shouldn’t I?”

You smile, pulling him tighter against your chest. “I love you, too, baby. I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do.”

“And baby? There’s nothing funny about your lisp. If anything, I think it’s really cute.”

Mingyu beams at you in response, and you swear his goofy grin could light up the whole world.

You’re never letting him go.

a/n: kind of… inspired by the latest gose episode (class president part 2)

masterlist

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @wantmatthew @moonkyeom @coupstatu

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