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#but in a calm and not at all stressed out kinda way
slushycoookie · 2 days
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My Husband has a Symbiote! Pt.4
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4
Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: Miguel is showing off his breeding kink again, somnophilia, oral sex, pregnancy sex (kinda), MINORS DNI!!
Summary: It's the big thing you've all been waiting for.
A/N: Every time I write Miguel with a symbiote, I go crazy. He just brings that feral part out of me. Enjoy!
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You felt exhausted.
The weight of your exhaustion felt like a ton. You could barely move your body, struggling to even get to the bathroom. You managed to make it to the sink as you leaned on it for support. Your eyes are fighting to keep open. All you wanted to do was rest.
“You should take Ravage.” Miguel stood close by, a hand on your back. His voice lingered with concern, “They'll make you feel better.”
You shook your head, “I had them the other day.” You agreed to take the symbiote once a week. Just so you wouldn't get addicted to having them attached to you. You didn't want to take advantage of using the alien either.
“You've been feeling this way for a few weeks. I don't like it, we should get you to a doctor.” You grimaced at your husband's concern. “Don't be like that. We have to see what's going on.”
You glared at him, annoyance brewing inside. “We’ve been having sex nonstop. Don't you think I'd be tired?”
“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes, “But you're never like this.”
“I'm fine, Miguel. I just need to sleep.” You brushed by him, completely forgetting whatever you were supposed to be doing in the bathroom. Instead, you burrowed yourself under the blankets, getting comfortable in bed.
You thought due to the constant love making your body had enough. Punishing you by making you sleep for hours on end. Only getting enough energy for potty breaks and to eat something. Before sleeping again. It was getting so bad that you had to take some days off of work. You were shutting yourself inside your bedroom, determined to rest.
On your days having Ravage, you felt normal. Going through your day-to-day routine with no issues. Not getting irritated at Miguel or eating your weight in food.
Ravage hummed in your mind as you worked, feeling rejuvenated. “Should we tell you?”
“Hm?” You perked up, “Tell me what?”
A guttural growl erupted from the alien, “But if we tell you, there will be little intercourse.”
“What? Ravage, what are you talking about?”
There was silence on their end. You wondered if they were just ignoring you. But you finally got a response, “Nothing.”
You weren't sure how to take the mysterious behavior. You didn't see any concern for you to bring it up to Miguel. Only forgetting about it when your symptoms came back after handing Ravage back. Maybe it was time to go to the doctor's.
Miguel was close by as he took you to HQ's infirmary. He was worried that if it was something the symbiote was doing to you, no regular doctor could fix it. You sat on the cot, lowered eyes watching your husband pace around the room. Your stomach churned thinking about how you made him stress over you. Due to your stubbornness of not wanting to be seen. Hopefully, this was just a really bad cold so he wouldn't have to worry.
While explaining your symptoms, your spider-doctor, that's what you usually called them, lit up with an idea. And didn't elaborate further when saying they wanted to perform some tests. Miguel stayed by your side, holding your hand to calm himself for whatever's going on. He's usually touchy feely when he's nervous or stressed.
At what felt like hours, which was only 20 minutes, the doctor came back with the test results.
You were pregnant.
The doctor showed you the positive results so you could see with their own eyes. The bolded, green colored word succumbed to their vision. You was pregnant. They were going to have a baby.
Your heart pounded in your chest at the exciting news. For some reason, the idea was way below your thoughts as you didn't think you were showing any of the common symptoms. The spider-doctor reassured you that each person was different in terms of pregnancy. Some checked off all the boxes in terms of the symptoms. Others wouldn't even know if they were pregnant until their belly got bigger.
Miguel’s hand pressed against your stomach, face filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. “We’re having a baby.”
“Yeah.” You placed a hand on top of his, “We are.”
The doctor recommended you continue getting rest. The exhaustion will fade away in due time but other symptoms may appear. Heavy eating, nausea or vomiting, mood swings, and back pain. You were more concerned about work, knowing you didn't have infinite time to take off. You couldn't take off a bunch of times to rest. Miguel said he would take care of it, even offering to pay your salary if you didn’t have any time left.
In fact, once you got home, a flip switched inside him.
He was usually attentive, close by and understanding. Now he was that by tenfold. When you arrived home, he constantly asked how you were feeling. If you needed to lie down or eat. You let him fret over you as he carried you to bed. You were feeling peckish so he gave you a list of food he could get. So you settled on pizza.
Constant messages appeared saying congratulations. Someone must've heard the spider doctors give the news. Now your watch blew up with activity of spiders wishing you well. Multiple requests appeared, asking if they could babysit the baby once they were born. You particularly noticed ones from Ben who also ended up coming over to make sure he was the first person to be called to watch the baby. You couldn’t say no to those cute puppy dog eyes.
Jess also stopped by in person to congratulate you, just as excited at her baby finally having another kid to play with. She went over her entire pregnancy experience to give you some tips. How she had the weirdest cravings like pickles with chocolate ice cream. Or how her bump got in the way a few times. Although, you knew the experiences were going to be different at the fact you were talking to a superhero. Who still fought crime while pregnant with her baby. You weren't sure you could make it to the bathroom in your current state.
Peter B. and MJ also came over one day to offer endless amounts of advice when it comes to babies. And their own experience with Mayday.
“Peter had sympathetic pregnancy for a while.” MJ admitted, causing Miguel and you to raise their brows in surprise. “He was miserable around the last couple of months.”
“I swear to you, my back was hurting all the time. I was bloated and nauseous. I'm surprised we didn't have two babies when Mayday was born.”
You laughed at Peter, “Poor you.”
“Of course he'd get that.” Miguel shook his head, close to you as you all sat on the couch.
“Hey, don't be surprised when you suddenly start feeling gassy. I was just happy to finally relate to my lady.” Peter gave a gentle kiss on MJ's forehead.
The married couple also left tons of material involving babies for them to read. Self-help books, videos, even started giving them some of Mayday's baby clothes to help prepare. You were excited to finally start planning for the baby to arrive if you could stop feeling so tired first.
You were lucky to have a wonderful husband.
Miguel made it a point to do everything in the house. Cook and clean. Tidy up the house if it needs tending. He often did his part around the house when you weren't pregnant. Now, he insisted on doing everything for you. Emphasizing that your rest was important. That he wasn’t going to let you overexert yourself if he was there. All while caressing you for reassurance.
He had also gotten more handsy than usual.
He was constantly nearby when he didn’t have to work. A hand on your belly, gently pressing against it. His warmth comforted you and soothed any worries you might have had about the baby. Soon, his hand went upward, a feel of your breast and a grunt in your ear. His hips rocking against your plump bottom. You wiggled your ass against his in small reciprocation but a yawn combated your rising arousal.
That made him stop.
“You should get some rest, baby.”
You shook your head, “I'm fine, we can-” Another yawn occurred, denouncing any argument you had.
“Let’s just sleep.” Miguel kissed your forehead before leading you to bed. You noticed his bulge and your stomach twisted with guilt. Miguel was extremely understanding, not once making you feel bad of your decreased energy. But you knew it wouldn't last long. You had read those horror stories of husband’s not desiring their partner as they were pregnant. Which led to frustrations or cheating. You knew your husband wouldn’t ever do that to you. But you couldn’t help but worry.
You had a proposition for him after making out with your husband one evening. Miguel gazed at you with apparent lust as he groped and kissed you with a burning passion. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” He gave you a gentle kiss. “My wife is pregnant. Why wouldn't I be?”
Your fingers laced through his own, “I just thought you were nervous. Since we're going to be parents.”
“I am. The thought of us with a child excites me and scares me…” You could feel a ‘but’ coming as he continued, “but seeing you like this, gets me going. Like I want to make sure you stay pregnant.”
His crimson eyes lowered, entranced at the sight of your belly. It hasn't grown much yet, still early for you to be showing. A shiver went down your spine at his gaze, “Is this you talking or Ravage?”
“No, no I think this is all me.” Miguel pulled you in close, hands remaining on your hips. “I want to make sure you stay knocked up. Be by baby making machine…” You noticed his breathing getting heavier at him riling himself up. “But you've been tired and you have no obligation to indulge me. I'm not going to exhaust you out further.” That's when he reluctantly parted, showing some restraint.
“Well, I did have an idea.” You started to say. You had been talking about messing around while the other was asleep. It was consensual and only if the other was extremely tired and couldn't participate as much. You thought this would be a great time to try. “You have my permission to use me while I'm asleep.”
Miguel perked up, “Really?” You nodded, “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this for me.” You nodded again, letting out a small laugh.
“I want to do this. Just be gentle. I'd rather not wake up to you jostling me all over the place.”
“I will.” He pulled you back in for a hug, holding you tight.
You thought this would be the beginning of him using you while you slept. But after a few days of permission, there was nothing. You felt the same after waking up for the day or from your naps. No clear evidence of you being fondled. No delightful warmness between your thighs. Miguel was cautious. You thought he wasn't ready to do that.
Until you had an incredible dream. One where he was behind you in bed, a leg draped across his arm, cock buried inside you. He was in his symbiote suit again as the large shaft was splitting you open. You heaved from the aching sensation, mind heavy and focused on him being inside. Whimpering his name as he gently thrusts into you.
Your walls are squeezing him as you climax, wrapped in bliss. He's never too far behind, his voice strained as he comes inside, lazy pumping into you to make sure not a drop is missed. The dream ended with a kiss and when you awoke, your body felt like liquid. Your attire was still the same, usually a pair of shorts with a large tshirt but your sex warm. Legs slightly sore and Miguel snoring peacefully from behind. A strong arm wrapped around the area where their child is forming.
You never caught the actions while you slept. Your dreams gave you a clear indication of what he was doing to you. Giving you satisfaction while also ensuring he didn't wake you.
Slowly, your exhaustion started to fade. The need for naps lessened, but you were still tired. So when you took a nap on the couch, that pleasant dream was coming back again. This time Miguel was buried between your legs, tasting you like there was no tomorrow. You sighed in relief before waking up to see the real thing.
The hunched position of his symbiote form over the armrest of the couch. Spreading your legs wide and pinning you down against the cushions to keep you still. Miguel made it a mission to remember every taste of you, his long tongue running along your folds, stimulating your clit.
“Miguel…” You moaned, eyes lowered at the sight. His head raised, eyes boring into yours in lust.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”
“It's fine.” You muttered, “Don't stop…” You pushed his head back down and he obliged. The small lick and sucking sounds would make you blush if you weren't half asleep. But the occasional growl against your sex made you curl your toes. You sighed, feeling your body warm up. Your fingers dug into the pillow under you while you shifted under his hold. Miguel continued to press further into you, moaning against your sex like a starved man.
That familiar feeling pooled in your stomach, your breaths getting short. Lips parting to release the sound of ecstacy. Creating warmth around your frame. You weren't sure how long Miguel was eating you out as his mouth shined in the light.
“You should continue to get some rest.” Miguel’s gigantic frame towered over you, the sofa creaking from the weight. “I can take care of you.”
Your mind was long gone as his hips rolled against yours, entering you slowly. Hard thrusts savoring the moment. Watching you sleepily cry out for him below, the grip on his bicep non-existent. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes as you begged for him to not stop.
“We're gonna make sure our kid has a sibling.” He grunted, face twisted in pleasure. “A brother? A sister? Maybe if we're lucky, twins…”
You gasped, arching your back as another climax took you by surprise. Miguel’s own thrusts started to falter, his cum shooting inside quicker than he could blink. Once again he made sure you took it all, not missing a single drop.
He buried his face on your head, the symbiote suit disappearing and showing off his naked form. Miguel held you close as if he missed the heat from your skin. “I'm sorry…I really didn't mean to wake you.”
Your heart melted at his large eyes filled with guilt.
“It's okay. It was nice to wake up to.” Your lips found his again to give a soft kiss. Miguel lifted you up, still adamant on making sure she had enough sleep by carrying her to the bedroom.
Soon, you were starting to show. And your energy was back to normal. No more sleeping all day. Your mind became clearer. Which made you finally think about your extra guest.
Miguel said he'd get rid of Ravage after it was clear you were pregnant. Yet, it’s been a few months since then and the symbiote was still here. No one brought it up so of course you had to be the one to do it.
“So? When is Ravage leaving?” Miguel paused in the middle of his work, not saying anything for a bit. You could tell they were speaking as the silence lingered in his lab. “Miguel-”
“Ravage thought they could stay a little longer. At least until the baby is born.” He interrupted.
You purse your lips, “That's not what we agreed on.”
Your tone didn't match up with your words. In all honesty, you didn't want Ravage to go. It was bad enough Miguel had to cut off them from being attached to you after you got pregnant. Not wanting to affect the baby. But you missed them. Feeding them chocolate bars or hot cocoa. Keeping you company when Miguel had to work late. It was odd to develop a decent relationship with an alien but you had to remind yourself that your entire life was weird.
“We won't cause any harm to the child.” Ravage came out to say. “Your husband's been making us watch baby videos. Their laughs are infectious.”
Your brows furrowed at the thought of the symbiote watching baby videos, “You serious?”
“Yes.” They said, “We have no urge to eat the baby anymore.”
“Anymore.” You pointed out, “That means you thought about it.”
“Multiple times.”
Miguel quickly cut in, “But they said they don't want to do that now.” He held your hands, “You know I don't want anything to happen to this baby, right?” You squeezed his hands, believing him wholeheartedly. “I promise you, I will die before I let anything happen to our kid. Trust me. Trust us.”
“You know I do.” You embraced him, head in his chest.
Somehow, that comforted you. You agreed to at least let them stay until the baby was born. Although, in the back of your mind, you had a feeling they may be keeping them much longer than that.
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
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Emily and the extra realization that an angel had her wings torn off and eye gouged out and halo repossessed and was left for dead in hell- why exactly??
Emily: "A child."
Lute: "A filthy little sinner."
Emily: "You did all that to her, because she showed a moment of mercy to, a C H I L D?"
Lute: "Yes."
Emily: "And then you tried blackmailing her with this??"
Lute: "Yes."
Emily: "That's terrible."
Lute: "I'll admit it didn't work how we wanted it to, but the broken look on her disgusting little demon fling's face was still worth it."
Emily: "I meant that it was a wrong and terrible thing to do TO her. And to Charlie!"
Lute: "They've probably already broken up by now. That traitor will spend her final hours alone and wretched with nothing but her own failings to keep her company."
Emily: "How you can SMILE while saying that!?"
Lute: "Oh don't worry, she'll be out of her misery soon enough."
Emily: "..... respectfully Lute, I hope she fucks you up a little."
Lute: There's no chance in hell.
Lute: (comes back sans arm after getting a little fucked up by vaggie in hell)
Emily: "HA!"
Emily: "Anyway have you met our newest angel Sir Pentious? Sir Pentious is an angel now. He arrived here fresh from hell. Did you know sinners can be redeemed and Charlie was right and you were wrong and Vaggie did the right thing and Sir Pentious was just telling me allllll about how they made up and it was very cute and they're probably going to be in love forever? Meanwhile, YOU on the other hand- oh I'm so sorry, Lute. Too soon?" :)
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moonchild-in-blue · 24 days
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Australian Rituals / Teeth of God Tour Bingo
Alroighte gwois, let's hear your predictions for the upcoming rituals. I *might* make another bingo (like on Wembley) - even if I don't, let's get them all in one place cus I think it's funny.
If you have something specifically for the Teeth of God Tour (because they are headliners and can do Cooler™ Fancier™ stuff) do specify. Same for strictly Australian Rituals. Some stuff may happen earlier (like when they debuted TMBTE and the new Espera masks), others may only happen on the Tour, so let's just put them all here and see what happens 😗✌️
Please reblog/put on the replies your predictions!! Whether serious or silly, please share!
Mine are:
One of the Vessels (Vessel or ivy OR Espera!!!!) singing onstage with Oli
Kangaroo/koala headbands / Aussie Explorer hat
EUCLID (more for Teeth of God but wouldn't be surprised if earlier)
The Apparition (PLEASE)
The Summoning pushups will return
Older song throwback (please please Sugar or Jaws. TNDNBTG for ToG)
Outfit change for the Vessels (only cus i think Australia is quite hot now innit? poor iv will MELT in that jacket)
NEW VESSEL JEWELLERY
This one I'm not super confident/keen on BUT new Vessel mask with Antlers (more likely on ToG but who knows)
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basslinegrave · 6 months
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idk if its just nervousness/anxiety or what but im feeling super sick... what going to the movies does to an introvert mf!! and i was looking forward to it 🤒
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nomaishuttle · 8 months
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hi guys
#afternoon break timeee. yay. everybody cheered#i still have nearly an hour tho i think ill prolly go do liberty#its gonna be so weird doing liberty without nicha tho shes like my guid 4 liberty 😭😭 bc she knows all the residents over there and she#only ever gave me rooms where she either knew the resident was out of the room Or she knew the resident was very calm and easy. sighh#liberty rooms r way way easier than normal rooms but theyre also more stressful bc like. well basically the cleanings way easier bc the#rooms r very simple + the residents dont like. flip their lid if you dont dust behind the tv every week. yk. <- obv not saying we dont put#effort into the liberty rooms just like. theres less arbitrary cleaning things its all pretty barebones. all laundry make the bed clean.#easie. but the hard part is that if the resident is in the room u have t be paying a lot of attention to making sure they arent getting#stressed out or anything. that + a lot of them are very chatty which is so sweet i love talking to residents hoeever i dont like talking#while cleaning bc famously i like to turn my entire brain off while cleaning and only pay attention to whatever im listening to. esp rn bc#im super super invested in im glad my mom died. its rly rly good. im nearly done with it and im like. kinda sad bc its like..so good#Also listening to the audiobook rly is a good idea with this one its rly good t hear it in like. her voice. yk. +#shes only gotten choked up once but it was like. genuinely i got choked up too. its so different from just reading it
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months
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ily i hope ur okay <3
hi! i am okay today, thank you for checking in ♡ hope you're okay as well
i was actually very big and brave today, went in not just one, but two different stores, PLUS I just came in from spending some time out on the balcony, a whole chapter of an audiobook, so I'm pretty proud.
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simporado · 1 month
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‼️ nsfw, mdni please
self-indulgent baku being down bad for reader ^q^
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Bakugo closes his eyes to bask in the feeling. The feeling of shame? Or the feeling his hand stroking is cock harder than he did the last time again? He's not really sure.
The thought flies away when he cums, his mind blanks at nothing but your face. His seeds splattering onto his pants and on his naked stomach. He falls down on his back, sweaty and panting. A hand goes over his eyes as he calms his breathing down.
"Fuckin' ridiculous." He huffs to himself, shaking his head as if disappointed in himself or to clear his head. He pushes his bangs out of his sweaty forehead as he gets up from his bed to go shower.
Its already almost a year since you've invaded his thoughts. and It's been about— actually he doesnt know since when he's started jerking off to the thought of you.
The first time he had ever looked at you this way was when that stupid dunce face and fuckass perverted grape tricked you and the girls into wearing that shitty cheering uniform. He thinks he probably wouldnt give a shit about those uniforms, had you not bumped straight into his chest that day along the halls, feeling left behind as all the girls had already gone out wearing those outfits.
You had looked stressed then, he remembers. He surmises its because you were wearing something different, and had none of your classmates with you.
"H-Hey, watch where you're fucking going!" He stammers a little, but makes sure to sound normal.
"A-Ah, sorry." is all you had said to him before hurriedly running out to the field to where the rest of the girls were.
He didnt know it then, but that was when he started noticing you.
It had only been stealing glances at you since then, until you had been partnered with him during no-quirk sparring.
Aizawa had you paired together that day. He huffed before getting into his fighting stance, and you did the same. You were in a ponytail, and seeing your hair up was already doing things to him, but he had to focus.
He’d lunged in first, and at the first half of your spar, he seemed to have the upper hand. Then, you started to finally hit back and dodge his advances. He noticed immediately that you were studying how he fights. And he sports a somewhat crazed smile at the realization.
Infuriated and probably turned on, he fought harder, and so did you. But alas, he still ended up winning. He had you immobilized on your stomach on the ground. His hand pinning your arms a bit painfully on your back while he straddles the back of your thighs. Your is face squished against the mat floor of the gym. You grit your teeth in pain caused by Bakugo restraining you, but its also mostly in annoyance.
"You lost, shitty nerd—" he manages to say before hearing the whistle. His hold relaxes a bit, but you struggle and kick his rear, he stumbles forward a bit. He puts his hand in front of him beside your head to break his fall, but his crotch ends up grazing against your ass.
He freezes for a millisecond then shoots up instantly and left. He lets out an audible 'tch' before immediately walking away trying to look casual, despite his reddening ears.
He sighs as he closes the shower, then steps out to dry himself and get changed.
It was around after dinner time, and he's just about ready to go to bed. He heads down to the dorm kitchen to get himself water for his room. Surpisingly, no one else was down there in the common rooms.
Or so he thought, as he almost jumps when he sees an ass sticking out in front of him on the floor. It seemed like you were trying to reach for something from under the sofa.
"The fuck are you doing?" He asks, voice gruff. He kinda hopes he doesnt sound weird. You pull back to look at him, hair tussled.
" 'Was trying to get my phone." is all you say, your lips pouting a bit.
Bakugo's eye twitches. And his cock. Your eyes flicker down for a second.
"Fuckin' move over," He says before bending down to get your phone for you.
“Ah, but you don’t have t—“ but you r protests were futile already as Bakugo lifts the couch, making sure to show off his strength and biceps (thank god he wore a sleeveless shirt tonight) your way in feigned nonchalance, and grabs your phone with the other. This doesn’t go unnoticed to you, of course.
He was about to hand you your phone, but stops in his tracks when he looks down and sees what was on your phone screen.
It's a picture of him shirtless. A bit dirty and sweaty, probably during one of his hero work.
You move immediately to snatch your phone but Bakugo's reflexes are too quick. He raises an eyebrow at you. "You took this?" he asks, smirking.
"Izuku did." you shake your head, correcting him. You cross your arms and tilt your chin downwards to glare up at him. His eyebrows only shoot up higher at the information.
"This what made you drop your phone and got your ass out trying to get it back?" He asks, the smirk on his lips growing into a grin.
You glare at him, cheeks burning. You jerk your chin towards him. "You cant say shit about me when you've got a hard on. 'That because of my ass?" You ask, eyes glaring at him but he can see mischief and lust in them.
A groan rumbles deep in his chest before stepping close to you. "So what if it is?" he growls mostly out of struggling to keep his cool. He sees you slowly smile up at him at his answer, and you’ve never looked even more gorgeous. His heart thunders aggressively against his ribcage.
"I'll meet you at your room to help you with that." is all you say then turn to head to the elevator, not before snatching your phone in his hand.
He lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding. Snapping out of his stupor, he moves quickly to get his water bottle filled before sprinting to his room like a horny lovesick fool. God, you really will be the end of him.
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a/n
i edited/proofread it a bit finally. i didnt bother at first because i thought i didnt like this piece enough. i see yall want a part 2, lol i shall try. pray that my ovulation takes over me 🙏
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nerdpoe · 7 months
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The Disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne, and how Watcher Mystery Files solved it in one episode.
Wrote it for a warm up, freaked out because I didn't know how to end it, copped out, wrote Omegaverse instead, finished another story, circled back to this one.
Anyways this was inspired by this post right here from @thebeeswantarson
it looks like this go reblog it
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Alright here we go.
When the nosebleeds had started, Tim hadn’t really thought anything of it.
He’d waved away concerned friends and family, shoved tissues (and tampons, on one memorable occasion) up his nose, and gone about his day.
Then the migraines. Oh, the migraines.
After the increased migraines, increased stomach issues, and a few fainting spells that had even Bruce cornering him and demanding he see a doctor, Tim had acquiesced.
And the result after many CATscans and MRIs?
Nothing. No tumors, no signs of disease, normal bloodwork-nothing physical was wrong.
Nothing magical, either. He’d gone to some JLD members to ensure that.
After consulting with his small team of doctors, they finally managed to pinpoint what was driving his body to rebel against itself.
Stress.
Fucking stress.
Like some sort of swooning Victorian maiden, but with all the swooning and none of the cocaine.
So.
Tim had written email to his friends and family, sent them off, and proceeded to completely detach from the world around him in his most well-kept secret bunker.
Tim knew himself, and if he maintained contact with anyone then he’d inevitably go back to working on cases and undoing the de-stressing he was attempting.
He hadn’t been sure if it would work, or if the stress of not being able to connect to the others or work on cases would make things worse, but it had. Unorthodox, yes, but it worked! He’d relaxed and caught up on sleep!
But fully rested, and also more than a little bored, he knew it was time to get back into the swing of things.
Mournfully, Tim bid his state-of-the-art bunker goodbye and started going through the multiple airlocks to get outside.
The absolute second he stepped out, though, the air rippled and Kon was immediately there.
Kon looked…disheveled.
His hair was a wreck, he only had one sleeve of his jacket on, and…were those tear tracks?
Why was Kon crying?
Fuck, had the zombie apocalypse started while he’d been away?
Tim held out his hands in a calming motion, not breaking eye contact.
“It’ll be okay Kon; we can figure out what the cure is for the Zombie Plague.” Tim didn’t actually know if he could figure it out, but he didn’t want Kon to freak out anymore than he already was.
Tim’s hands were pushed aside in favor of being swept into an all-consuming hug, and-yup. Kon absolutely was crying into his shoulder.
Tim was officially concerned.
“Is Bart okay? Is Cassie okay? Kon, who’s hurt, what happened-“
“You, Rob. You’re okay. Shut up, I’m having a moment.”
Tim was even more confused, but that was alright; his brain started working without him.
Kon was crying, and emphasizing that Tim was okay. Kon had not realized that Tim was fine, ergo Kon had not received the email Tim had sent out.
Then Tim’s brain went Tim Big Brain.
Normally, a misconception like that would have been cleared up right away by someone else with correct information. But it hadn’t been cleared up at all, and Kon was never quiet about trying to save someone.
Thus, no one had known any different to what Kon had believed. No one had known to correct the misconception that he had found himself immersed in.
Therefore, the emails had not been sent out.
The…emails had not been sent out.
Oh fuck him the emails had not been sent out and he went on his merry way to an unlisted bunker with soundproofing for six fucking months.
“You were supposed to receive an email,” Tim muttered, horrified, as his arms wrapped around Kon as well.
Kon snorted wetly.
“Well I didn’t, and neither did anyone else.”
“Yeah, I kinda get that now. I’m in…so much trouble.”
Kon nodded into Tim’s shoulder, smearing snot and tears into his shirt. Tim didn’t even complain.
He was too busy realizing just how badly he was in for it.
~~~~~~
Bruce could feel the conversation he was trying to have begin to turn into another fight.
Dick was insisting that Ra’s Al Ghul had to be the one who had taken Tim, and had roped Damian in on it.
The problem was that there was no real concrete evidence that Ra’s had taken Tim, and Bruce refused to let them move in without intel on, at the very minimum, where Tim could have been taken.
Dick, naturally, was not happy with that answer.
Bruce, of course, refused to lose any more of his children. Especially if it was something he could have easily prevented.
“Father, if Grandfather has Drake it is only a matter of time before irreparable damage is done. We must move quickly.”
Bruce shook his head, standing more firmly in front of his oldest and youngest.
Dick looked ready to explode.
“Get out of the way, Bruce. I’m getting Tim.” Dick’s stance was tense, and his words moreso.
Bruce had no doubt this would devolve into a physical confrontation if he did not ed-escalate.
He opened his mouth to do just that when, with a shrill beeping sound, Oracle chimed in.
“Uh, guys? I think I just found Tim.”
Bruce felt something inside of himself relax, and didn’t bother to stop Dick and Damian as they charged past him to crowd the Batcomputer.
“Oracle, report; where is he?” Was he safe? Did he need help?
“About that…”
“Babs please!” Dick begged, knuckles white from where he gripped the console.
“He’s currently outrunning the paparazzi and a literal mob of Gothamites with phones.”
Bruce…had no idea how to respond to that.
Neither did Dick, apparently.
“They’re all livestreaming, so like; tracking him isn’t an issue,” Oracle supplied, like that made things make more sense.
The screen blinked, and four separate video feeds from random Gothamites showed Tim running from them at different angles.
“…Agent A, I believe it’d be best for you to pick him up.”
All eyes were on Tim; it would be weird if Batman swooped down to retrieve him.
~~~~~~
When Tim had Kon drop him off, he had been expecting maybe a second look or two when he stepped out of that alley.
What Kon may have neglected to mention, however, was that the disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne was all anyone had been talking about for four months. There were a lot of theories, but the most prevalent happened to be the most gruesome.
Popular theory one; Bruce Wayne murdered Timothy Drake-Wayne in cold blood after Timothy made a decision with Wayne Enterprises that infuriated the man.
Popular theory two; Timothy Drake-Wayne was being held for ransom, and Bruce Wayne was refusing to pay it. Effectively, it was the same as theory one but with more steps.
Popular theory three; Timothy Drake-Wayne had been captured by Gotham’s underbelly and sold into human trafficking.
And the fourth most popular theory; Timothy Drake-Wayne was abducted by aliens.
So when Tim stepped out of that alley, it wasn’t to an occasional second glance.
It was to excited whispers and impromptu livestreaming.
Naturally, Tim bolted.
He’d outrun one mob, only to run into another one. His face was all over the internet, he knew, and there was no way Barbara hadn’t caught on.
He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, really, and made the worst mistake he could have made at that particular point in time.
He ran in front of Wayne Enterprises.
There were two guys, presumably talking about his disappearance. One was average height, the other was tall, and both were clearly not from Gotham.
He heard tiny snatches of their conversation as he got closer, pinned the California accents, and shoved past them with a half shouted apology.
“Well would’ja lookit that, Ryan; looks like it just solved itself!”
“How?!”
Tim let them fall into the background and used his new bearings to beeline for Crime Alley.
After all, only idiots would follow someone into Crime Alley.
Unfortunately, after twenty minutes Tim was forced to admit that the general populace of Gotham probably wasn’t on the scale of normal he had been depending on.
They had indeed followed him all the way into Crime Alley.
So he tried to lose them even harder.
He shoved between muggers and their victims, blew through obvious drug deals, and jumped over the tables hosting poker games so intense that the players were fingering their weapons.
Still, the crowd followed him.
Tim took three quick turns, prepared to take a fourth, and was snatched out of the street and into an old building.
The hold was meant for restraint, and Tim couldn’t break out of it without making a lot of noise, which he really didn’t want to do.
Plus, he recognized the arms latched around him and keeping him in place.
“Thanks Hood,” Tim whisper-panted.
The arms got tighter.
“Kid, do you have any idea how many ops I blew searching for you?”
Oh.
Oh no.
“Was absolutely convinced trafficker filth had gotten their hands on my kid brother,” Hood continued quietly, the mechanical rasp making his words deceptively collected, “So I went ahead and destroyed some of my only leads on the off chance that I’d find him.”
Tim felt himself start to break out in a cold sweat.
“So…you need help picking up your old trails?”
“’Help’ feels wrong. I’m owed it, Timmers.”
~~~~~~
‘Timothy Drake-Wayne Returns from the Dead!’
Tim thought that the newspapers were, quite possibly exaggerating just a little.
Just like his family was overreacting.
He was to wear at least four trackers at all times, he had to check in four times a day, he had to help Red Hood with picking back up the case load he’d all but set on fire in search of Tim, and he had to take Damian wherever their youngest wanted to go.
Apparently, the Little Demon had been so concerned that Ra’s Al Ghul had Tim that he’d started having nightmares.
And Tim wasn’t gonna lie, he felt beyond shitty for that. Well, that and everything else.
He’d also been forced to tell Bruce the location of every single one of his bunkers.
He’d sulk but…Tim also kind of felt like the worlds biggest asshole.
So.
He’d just…remember to actually hit send, not save, next time.
2K notes · View notes
sytoran · 9 months
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘
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the mother of the kids you babysit is sinfully hot, and she happens to be going through a messy divorce, so, of course, you're gonna do what you can to help out.
🌸 pairing: milf!pregnant!wanda x top!babysitter!gn!reader
🌸 cont: almost smut (18+), major age gap, teasing, flirting, what kind of oneshot would this be if i didn't add love to the lust, pregnancy kink kinda, or just a thing for hot moms in general
🌸 word count: 1.9k
🌸 note: i know i'm supposed to be on break... scold me after
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To say you had an unhealthy obsession with the mother of the kids you babysat would be an understatement.
Understated by such a far amount that it dug beyond the trenches of the center of the universe.
Because you were utterly, filthily, encompassingly, sinfully, and completely enthralled by the mere thought of Wanda Maximoff.
She was leaning over the kitchen counter, low-cut shirt emboldening the tantalising cleavage she had, speaking to her kids in that sexy motherly tone that drove you wild.
“Mommy’s gonna be cheering you boys on for your football game tomorrow, alright?”
Wanda was every one of your wet dreams embodied as a breathtaking woman, so utterly gorgeous beyond dictionaried words that you nearly fell to your knees in the presence of her beauty the first time you saw her. 
Especially now, that she was pregnant with her third child.
It took every cell of your willpower to not start drooling when you laid your eyes on her these days: with her glowing features that had aged like fine wine, or her rounded and full breasts, so tight against the seams of her shirt, or her big belly you just longed to caress. 
Sometimes you’d think Wanda felt the same for you.
All the times she would ‘accidentally’ brush her ass against your crotch area when squeezing through a narrow gap, pressing into you for a moment too long to be considered accidental. 
Or the times she would complain to you about her messy divorce with Vision, lamenting about her lawyers and social workers and saying that you were the only one that could calm her down. 
But the two of you were worlds apart, because she paid you to be the babysitter for her kids. That was what was holding you back, from bending her over the kitchen counter every time she brushed passed you with that ass.
“Y/N?” 
Wanda’s sweet voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up guiltily at having been caught staring. When you come to your senses, you’ve realized that the boys have already left for school that day. 
The mother tilts her head to the side with a little grin, and your heart does a flip. “What’re you thinking about that’s got you so distracted, hm?” she asks, propping her head up with a hand while resting her elbow on the counter. 
You clear your throat awkwardly, pushing in some chairs to busy your hands. “Uni stuff,” you reply, the lie slipping through your lips surprisingly easily. “It’s quite stressful, with exam season ‘round the corner.” 
It wasn’t a secret that you were nearly twenty years younger than Wanda, but it made your little forbidden crush all the more thrilling. The way you would take time out of your weekends to spend time with Wanda and the kids, disregarding party invites and forgoing study time. It was probably not a good move, but your horniness seemed to have a mind of its own.
“Mhm, uni was a lifetime ago for me,” Wanda reminisces, lifting her arms up to stretch. Your eyes are shamefully glued to the curve of her belly as her shirt rides up. “You’re so mature for your age, though, Y/N. Wish you were around during my time.” 
“What?” you nearly choke on your words, unsure if you had interpreted her correctly. It was too good to be true – Wanda had never been this forward.
“Come on, sweetheart, don’t sell yourself short,” the mother says easily, smiling brightly as if she wasn’t the cause of your burning arousal. “Captain of the football team, eh? You can also cook, clean, fix cars, do gardening, and fix sinks. And you’re good with kids! I bet you have all the girls in uni chasing after you.”
Wanda’s surge of compliments does wonders for your ego, but the only thing you genuinely care about was your availability for her. You’ve had girls in your level lust after you, sure, but Wanda was a secret solace that was different from them all.
“Maybe,” you say cryptically, failing to hide a smirk at the look that washes over Wanda’s face. 
“Do you? Someone from school?” Wanda asks, the teasing lilt in her voice dissipating almost immediately, instead being replaced with something akin to jealousy.
Fuck, you wanted her so bad.
“Hmm, sure,” you tease, liking this cat-and-mouse game you were playing. “She looks a bit like you.”
Wanda can’t seem to keep the annoyance off her face, and it’s adorably funny. And kind of hot, too. “That’s nice. Are you dating her?” 
You laugh, walking up to Wanda to help her with the dishes she was currently unpacking from the dryer. “Nah. Sometimes I think she wants me, but I also think she’s way outta my league.”
‘Way outta my league’ my ass, more like ‘way outta my appropriate age group.’
As Wanda watches you pick up a glass bowl, she feels a surge of emotion well up from inside that causes her to tear up.
Of course, she would never have you, it was just silly to want her babysitter. You had so many younger, fitter, eligible partners, all waiting to have you. Young pretty girls who had problems with the colour of their lipstick, not problems with pregnancy and divorce lawyers and shitty husbands.
When you look back to see Wanda’s state of tears, worry taints your features instantaneously. “My emotions are all over the place because of the pregnancy,” Wanda says between shaky breaths. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
In wordless acknowledgement, you put down the dishes and sweep Wanda off her feet. You lift her from under her back and thighs, firm hands steadying her as you walk up the stairs. Wanda looks up at you, feeling so utterly vulnerable all of a sudden, but you send her a warm smile that simultaneously calms her down and awakes butterflies in her stomach.
She takes the time to brush her hands over your arms, then your neck. You were so strong, so calming, everything she had ever needed. Now, the feeling of your hands so close to where she’d imagined you so many times was a good distraction.
When you reach the bedroom, you move the pillows and set her down gently, all with her arms wrapped around your neck. With a striking realisation, Wanda knows that she’s never felt this safe with anyone ever, so warm and so inviting, and she never wanted to let you go.
You leave for a while to get some things, and reappear in Wanda’s bedroom with a glass of warm water and some painkillers. There are chocolates in the mix, the peanut butter kind that soothes Wanda down immensely.
“You’re too good for me,” Wanda says breathily, the sheen of sweat that had covered her forehead now being tenderly wiped away by you. You shrug plainly. You just wanted to provide for her, take care of her and her kids and all her sexual needs. treat Wanda like the queen she was, nothing at all like the bags of garbage that was her husband.
Before you know it, you lean down to press a kiss against Wanda’s warm forehead in an act of affection. The moment is sweet, and soft, so much like what you’d imagined.
Wanda freezes up for a moment, and you do the same. “Sorry,” you choke out, moving back quickly, but the older woman was quick to grip your forearm and prevent you from escaping.
“Stay.”
Your breath stills in your throat, eyes wide. You’re hovering over Wanda from the side of the bed, while the woman lays down just inches away from you. Her hair is splayed across the pillows, her pupils are blown, and her lips are so close to yours. So, so close.
Time slows down as you tilt your head to meet her lips, chasing that forbidden little paradise you’d been seeking for months. You instinctively place a hand on the swell of her belly, and Wanda shudders at your touch.
She places a hand on the side of your face, fingers skating over your cheekbones, and the electricity that runs through your blood makes you feel more alive than you’d ever been. 
You can feel her warm breath on your lips, tantalising.
You can see her closed eyelids, anticipating.
You can taste that forbidden paradise, addicting.
But the moment is broken like shattered glass when the sound of the doorbell resounds around the house.
“Fuck,” Wanda whispers, jumping into action, scrambling to pull herself together. “It’s my husband. He was gonna come today to collect his shit.” You back away from her, face burning in embarrassment at how excited and desperate you’d been.
“Sorry,” you say awkwardly, watching her check her reflection in the bedroom mirror. “I’ll go now. I won’t bother you anymore.” The sound of keys unlocking the door has you resigning to your fate.
Wanda whips her head around in record time. Only then does she notice your downcast gaze. “Baby,” she croons, coming up to you to cradle your face in her hands. “You know it’s not like that.”
You let out an incoherent grumble, but Wanda cuts you off by pressing her lips against yours in a quick fashion, far too quick for your liking. Nonetheless, you’re left reeling and heart pounding, staring at the older woman wide-eyed.
“I’m divorcing him,” Wanda continues, briskly walking towards the door like she hadn’t just turned your life upside down. “After that, you can have me all to yourself–”
Before Wanda knows what hit her, she’s being pushed against the wall with your lips on hers. You’re quick, and rough, like you’d die without the taste of her tongue. You slide a knee between her big thighs, relentless and stealing her every breath. Wanda moans against you, hands helplessly pinned against the door, her heart beating all too quick.
“Wanda? You there?” A not-so-distant voice calls, then footsteps are heard trudging up the stairs. Spurred on by the movement, you possessively slip a hand up Wanda’s shirt, sliding over her pregnant belly and then to her big breasts, squeezing it in your palm.
“F-fuck,” the mom whimpers, dizzied with your undying fervour. She can feel the wetness in her panties pool, hormones dancing all over the place, her brain screaming at her to let her fuck you right up against the wall and make her cum in front of her husband.
“Tomorrow,” Wanda whispers, as the footsteps edge closer and closer. You pull away, just like that, your hands smoothing over her shirt and resting unnecessarily long on her hardened buds.
Wanda almost laughs in disbelief at your incredible boldness, but after a few seconds the door clicks open and she freezes. 
“What’re you doing?” Vision asks suspiciously, emerging from behind the doorway like a figment of her worst dreams.
Wanda turns her head to look at you, for you’d been standing right there just a moment ago. Now, all that’s left is an empty room, a window wide open, and the howling wind.
“Nothing much,” Wanda replies, turning to Vision with a cryptic smile. “Other than moving on from you, obviously.”
Just two floors down, you’re getting onto your skateboard and whizzing away from the house with your legs shaking in adrenaline. Your blood is pumping and your hands are numb, but this little fantasy of yours leaves your heart soaring higher than it ever had before.
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i was too lazy to add the taglist, sorry yall. anyways come and yell at me in my asks rn
read part 2 | main m.list | AO3
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koqabear · 10 months
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love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
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♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6
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“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”
yeonjun x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut
Word count: 10.6K
warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it
smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)
Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-
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Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess. 
It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again. 
“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”
But sometimes, he just can’t help it. 
He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.
“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”
“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”
“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”
“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”
“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”
“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.
“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”
Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
MONDAY
This is it. 
Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you. 
He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.
He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this. 
Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you. 
When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him. 
He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight. 
Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear. 
You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.
Shit, this was so embarrassing. 
Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest. 
The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all. 
But for you, anything could change. 
This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 
Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already. 
Looking back was your first mistake.
Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you. 
“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself. 
“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!” 
“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”
You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina. 
“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there. 
“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you. 
He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.
He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern. 
“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him. 
“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry. 
“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground. 
“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him. 
“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.  
“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in. 
“For existing.” 
God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word. 
“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes. 
“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.
Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action. 
“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.” 
He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them. 
This was… progress. 
But you’re still mad at him. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
TUESDAY
Visiting you in class was a big no. 
Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.
You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway. 
Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort. 
He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time. 
It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level. 
He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you. 
He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him. 
But, you are a horrendously petty person.
You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.
It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes. 
You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead. 
After a moment, the footsteps disappeared. 
It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly. 
There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.
Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence. 
Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s. 
His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation. 
Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears. 
That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him. 
You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself. 
After a while, you hear scribbling sounds. 
You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud. 
Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.
Can you pls let me look at u at least?
You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time. 
I miss you so so so so so much. 
You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left. 
That was your second mistake. 
Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access. 
I’m sorry. 
Another paper flies over your fortress.
I’m sorry.
Then, another. 
Pls forgive me.
Then another. And another, and another, and another. 
Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((
You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds. 
It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions. 
There’s a small pile of hearts next to him. 
Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance. 
Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table. 
Can I show u how sorry I am??
You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus. 
You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions. 
“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done. 
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 
Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take. 
Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again. 
I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically. 
“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out. 
There goes all his progress. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
WEDNESDAY
Today has been an oddly nice day.
It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood. 
A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours. 
“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you! 
The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.
It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief. 
Yeonjun says he’s sorry.
“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!
You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.
By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.) 
Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip. 
Yeonjun is really sorry.
…What? 
You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before. 
He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache. 
You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog. 
Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.
“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar. 
Yeonjun misses you more than anything. 
The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face. 
“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.
“Could you forgive him?”
“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further. 
You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.
When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you. 
Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.
Three ways to better communication in a relationship:
The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.
“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously. 
my baby :((
stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!
my baby :((
and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!
Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated. 
Choi Yeonjun. 
can you pls let me talk to you instead?
You don’t bother opening the notification. 
That was your third mistake.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
THURSDAY
Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends. 
Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.
Well. Most of the time. 
“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation. 
“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.
“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?” 
“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was. 
“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.
“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this. 
It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence. 
I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ. 
Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights. 
“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more. 
“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture. 
A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course. 
Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you. 
Your meal was free. 
The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity. 
“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”
You take a second to think her question through. 
Yet another mistake on your part. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
FRIDAY
Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.
You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened. 
Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you. 
You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will. 
The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station. 
“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”
You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly. 
“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”
“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.” 
Christ!
Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place. 
“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.
You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SATURDAY
You were scared to talk to Yeonjun. 
Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him. 
Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?
The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.
However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.
You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it. 
There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.
Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?
It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!
This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.
Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions. 
Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now. 
I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong. 
God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved. 
 It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.
Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.
You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.
I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…
Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call. 
“Hello?”
“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”
“Uhm, let him in then?”
“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”
“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.” 
“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.” 
“You need to talk to him.”
“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” 
A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.
“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”
“Okay.” 
You hope you’re not making a mistake. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SUNDAY
This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too. 
Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here. 
“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.
“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”
“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief. 
“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”
“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!” 
Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice. 
“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”
You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him. 
“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!” 
You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess. 
Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now. 
“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”
“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.
“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”
Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra. 
“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.
“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.” 
“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”
“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…” 
Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.
“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”
“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”
Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse. 
“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!” 
Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically. 
“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”
“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”
“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move. 
“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”
“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you. 
“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”
Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him. 
“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”
“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”
“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”
Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him. 
Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you. 
The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.
“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”
“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”
“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”
“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”
Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners. 
“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans. 
“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”
“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes. 
“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully. 
“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him. 
“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more. 
“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”
“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh. 
“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it. 
“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”
His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.
“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.
“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”
“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”
“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.
“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”
Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.
“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation. 
“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”
Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.
His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.
“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”
“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.
“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”
He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!
“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears. 
“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”
Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin. 
“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”
The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.
“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.
“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”
Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired. 
You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily. 
“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“
Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…
You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.
This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you. 
Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.
“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”
“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”
“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder. 
“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”
You laugh.
“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”
“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”
A pause. 
“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”
You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight. 
“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.
“For you, yeah.”
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call. 
“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”
(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)
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1800jjbarnes · 7 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑 : 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇
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A Moment To Last Forever
【Synopsis】 : When Bucky comes from a long and stressful day, he only wants one thing. You bent over
『W.C』 : 440 
-> Genre: Smut. Flufffff.
Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader
[Warnings] : Unprotected Sex (Whoops). This is kinda written in a poetic way, idk. Making out. Fingering. Slight breeding kink. This is just full of love and devotion. I'm a sap.
Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List
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A long tiresome mission can always end in one of the best ways if Bucky had anything to say about it. Water rinsing the grime of the exhausting morning, washing away the slowness of the mid-day training or draining the frustrating of a mission gone wrong in the evening. Dunking your head under the shower, feeling Bucky's hands massage your shoulders, as his lips kiss along your back. Your head would dip back to lean against his wet chest. Your hazy eyes would look up at him, seeing a calm, soft smile on his beautiful features.
The steam around you would cloud your judgment as you both kept close together. He would spin you around, kissing you sensually, making every second count. His fingers glided along your wet skin before reaching your core. As if it couldn’t get any hotter in the bathroom, the feeling of his fingers sliding through your folds sends a moan to break through your sealed lips. You would just stand there for a moment, arms wrapped around Bucky as he rests his forehead against your shoulder. His fingers dipping into your dripping pussy, fucking you at a comfortable pace.
His cock ached for attention but he would push it aside for the moment as all he wanted was to see you come at least once...or twice. He was a greedy man after all and if he could, he would have you coming over and over again until you screamed at him to stop. But he knew you would never say stop, taking whatever he gave you like a good girl. Like his good girl. Just like how you’d bend over so obediently, leaning your hands against the cold tiles, shaking your ass slightly as Buck slips his cock deep inside you.
The stretch stung in the best way as he fucks your bluntly and harshly. He lost himself in the idea of coming inside you, filling you up just the way you like it. The water hitting your back, pooling down your legs was gorgeous in his eyes. Watching how your body reacts to his thrusts and then shiver at the water. If he could memorise this event and replay it on his lonely nights, he would. Your moans were music to his ears, the way your pussy would clench around his cock felt like heaven. And as you both came together it was like time had stopped and it was you and him left in the world.
He was so in love with you; intimate nights like these made his heart sing. More than anything else in existence. You are his everything.
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averywiseanimatedcat · 3 months
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6 months on it still thinking about how much of a shock that kiss must’ve been to Aziraphale.
The way Crowley steers his cooperation around really gave Aziraphale no warning at all. I was thinking about the development of their body language and it’s interesting to me so have an analysis under the cut.
Crowleys body language doesn’t change all that much over the course of their history. After their initial meetings as angels then in Eden, Crowleys already leaning in, orbiting and slinking around in quite a comfortable, familiar way. He tends to angle his body towards Aziraphale and stands quite close to him. He shows no sign of being fearful or uncomfortable. He quite happily moves in and around Aziraphales personal space without a care in the world even when they hardly knew each other yet.
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Aziraphale however starts out looking guarded and unsure. He often stands facing forward while talking to Crowley sideways.
As we go through history Aziraphale becomes more comfortable. He opens up, starts to angle his body more towards Crowley, stops guarding with his hands and moves into Crowleys space on his own. And he starts to initiate physical contact where it’s not even necessary.
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But the only times I can think of Crowley initiating physical contact before the kiss are ones that could easily be written off as just friendly or something else like
The wall push (which was aggressive)
The magic shop handshake is practical for sealing the deal
The handhold for the swap (mutual initiation, also practical we assume)
Sitting on the arm of the chair and kinda sorta leaning on Aziraphale when Muriel turns up
Crowley also tends to reject Aziraphales touch by removing himself from it like in the 1800’s, dodging with some roundabout footwork or leaning away. With moments like the pub or the shoulder touch he doesn’t have much of a visible reaction. Granted his eyes are hidden but Aziraphale probably thinks he just doesn’t like being touched. And yes, Neil said they like holding hands, but do they know the other likes holding hands?
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And I can hear you say ok then why does Crowley always put himself within touching distance if he don’t wanna be touched? Yeah, he does, but from Aziraphales perspective Crowley has always done this. He’s always been standing close or leaning in. It’s just how he is. Aziraphale is the one who’s changed. He’s become walking megaphone just blasting ‘please hold my hand before I discorporate on the spot pleasepleaselpleaseplease…’
Aziraphale is clearly a physical touch being. He reaches for Crowley in the most stressful or emotionally charged moments. And I think he has been holding back (we can see that on his face) but there’s times where he seems to stop himself mid motion from touching Crowley. Such as after Gabriels appearance and Az is trying to keep Crowley calm
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When Crowley says he’s going to take the humans out
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And when Crowley goes to take Maggie and Nina out of the bookstore when Heaven and Hell are there. There is a safety element here as it’d be unwise for him to show his affection with Heaven or Hell around but Aziraphales first instinct is to reach for him. But Crowley just gets out of the way like he does it all the time. It’s another dance they do, Aziraphale pursues with physical affection, Crowley avoids. And Aziraphale doesn’t want to cross boundaries he’s perceiving Crowley to be putting up around physical affection so he’s holding it back.
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And I think all that is part of the reason Aziraphale looks angry after the kiss. He’s possibly thinking (among many other things) that Crowley has rejected or ignored his physical affection all this time, making Aziraphale think he didn’t want it when he did. And that would be a painful thing to realise when you thought you yearned alone.
So I don’t blame Aziraphale for being upset when he gets this sudden enormous dose of physical contact out of the blue. He had no warning. On the contrary, Crowleys been acting like a big, prickly, demonic cactus. And it would’ve been endlessly confusing to be kissed after years believing the want for even the lightest of touches wasn’t reciprocated.
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diejager · 3 months
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hello!!!!! how would the monster group handle a mountain lion hybrid, like, they’re notoriously difficult to handle and are known to lash out, so they were just kinda thrown to Price to handle
Lesson Cw: hybrid, fighting, scruffing, tell me if I missed any.
They were at an impasse, unable to find you when you didn’t want to be found, stalking the halls in complete silence and scaring people and hissing at people who got to close to you —even them at some point. You were a brat, a proper brat that eventually got to Price as you did with the others. He approached Alejandro and Horangi about your standoffish behaviour: protective, self-isolating and aggressive, but he was assured that it was normal, yours were only worsened by monster and hybrid treatments, the horrible and ignorant ways they treated you that made your instincts lash out.
Fortunately, Price learned that you could be taught to accept them, to be indoctrinated into their pack without rejecting your instincts. He had both felines drag you to the sparring ring after everyone left, hearing you hiss and lash out in pure anxiety and stress until they wrangled you into the ring and surrounded you, walking around you like two cats ready to pounce on their prey. Price had spoken to them to know if this kind of harsh lesson would work, it did on Horangi, made him open up after a rough fight and loosen up after a while. That was all he needed to hear to hold a session with you (he spoke to the others before, wanting to hear their opinions before he moved on with the plan).
”Don’t hold back,” Alejandro smiled, spotted fur growing on his forearms and tail swaying behind him.
“Or what?” You hissed, glaring at the men moving around your prone figure and fists clenched to your side.
“Or I eat you, kitty,” Horangi grinned, a goading gleam in his bright, amber eyes, his scars stretching to widen his smirk and teeth growing to seem more menacing.
Price watched you wait it out, letting your instincts drive you forward when Horangi lashed out first, jumping at you while Alejandro circled both of you, quietly huffing and rumbling when you pushed Horangi back. You fought with vigour and anger, snapping your teeth at the Haetae’s nose and claw swiping at him when you manage to struggle out of his tackle. Horangi and Alejandro switched places on occasion, to keep you from getting used to one person and to tire you out, to wear down your pent up anger and anxiety. 
It went on for almost an hour until Horangi had you pinned to the ground, straddling your hips with his thick thighs and gripping your nape, scruffing you into submission and calmness. You were all panting, breathing loudly and shoulders heaving, foreheads dripping sweat and hearts throbbing in your ears, a loud pulse beating a mile per second. You hissed and cussed, always the fiery spirit you were with them without holding back, gentle and caring when healing, but dangerous and bloodthirsty when cornered. When Alejandro nodded at Price, letting him know that it was safe for him to move in, he strode across the room, swinging his legs over the cables and kneeling beside you three.
“Are you ready to listen, Hunter?” He growled, tone low and deep with power, smoke curling on the corners of his lips like a burning fire, the warm, kindling flames of a cigar that smelled earthy and strong. It stung your nose as it did the others, but in the gentlest way possible. 
“Yes, sir,” you grumbled, blinking tiredly at him, shoulders slumped downward, head lowered and eyes cast down, “ ‘m tired.”
“Good, let’s get you cleaned and rested, yeah? We’ll continue this tomorrow.”
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts
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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months
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Bully
alastor x gn!imp!reader
this is part one bc i think i wanna do a smutty part two teehee
Summary: You became friends with Charlie by chance and decide to join the hotel to help! However Alastor is a cruel bastard, and you can’t understand why; he’s just such a little bully. He bugged you while drinking one night and you decide, you’d just leave the hotel; charlie will understand, however Alastor won’t let you.
Warnings: Manipulation im pretty sure, insecurity, drinking, mean alastor (kinda), reader is an imp, alastor try’s to get reader drunk not for nefarious reasons, choking, reader gets held down teehee, swearing, i think that’s it? lmk!!
word count: 3K
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You gripped your glass at the bar as the red hellion pranced around you happily like the obnoxious deer he was. “Hello little hellborn.” Alastor hummed, you ignored him continuing to stare into space at nothing. “I’m surprised you haven’t left yet, it’s quite the embarrassment to be born in such a place and be as weak as you are.” Sliding in the seat beside you, he magically made a drink appear in front of him. It was some sort of brown liquor, you weren’t sure what kind. Aside from his cruel tone, his body language was relaxed, arms rested against the warm brown oak coloured bar, occasionally you could catch his coat moving at the back, or his ears twitching softly.
You ignored his stupid prodding, it wasn’t anything new, he wasn’t a fan of you and had no problem letting you know. “So my little imp, how is this evening treating you?” Alastor egged on, leaning toward your slumped over figure. Husk was long gone, relieved of his bartending duties at such an hour, meaning you were left to fend off the giant buck yourself. “Good, how’re you little deer?” You snark back, taking a long gulp of your drink.
Alastor didn’t seem to mind, laughing boisterously with his head thrown back. “My my somebodies sour today. I don’t blame you, a pitiful thing like you? i’d be miserable too.” He let out that annoying goose like, ha ha, that he thought was so coy before taking a swig of his drink. You eyed the clock in the corner, and then sent a glare his way. “Do you ever sleep? Leave me be.” The deer brushed you off, not bothering to respond, he just continued to pick up his drink, take a few sips and put it back down.
You’d met many cruel bastards in hell, but Alastor was the cruellest of all. Which was a shocker to your friends back in the greed ring when you told them. You’d had your fair share of violent run ins with men, so when you professed this one man who’d never put his hands on you, was the worst, they couldn’t believe it, snarking that you were simply being sensitive.
But Alastor was observant and coy, he liked to play pretend happy go lucky but he was calculated in his cruelty. He rooted up your insecurities and then he used them against you, like in crowds of people, in stressful situations, just to embarrass you or make you look crazy; he knew how to pull the strings. The worst part is you could identify it, but couldn’t stop it. You knew what he was doing and he was still able to get to you, and you couldn’t lash out because you were just some Imp from greed who compared nothing to human overlords.
“I didn’t take you for a martyr dear.” Sucking in a breath you tried to remain calm, you knew it was only a matter of time before he spoke something stupid again. “Shush.” It was barely an attempt but at the very least you said something passive. “I think you have a little crush on me.” Eyes bulging you snapped your head towards him in disbelief. Sitting tall Alastor smirked smugly, eyeing you from the corner.
“That’s so fucking juvenile! I never have ever showed any amount of interest in you, and you won’t fucking leave me be Alastor!” You shriek, hands curled in front of you gripping at air as you face him. You could feel the blood rushing through your veins as you screamed at him, and your shoulders tensed with the rage coursing through you. Alastor shrugged a single shoulder, flicking his hand, your glass refilled making you attention get momentarily drawn to your cup.
“I am unsure if that’s true dear. You see, I've been observing certain behaviours for quite some time, and i do believe you have quite the soft spot for me. Who wouldn’t though.” Taking a few large gulps from your cup as you listen to him ramble, you finished with an obnoxious ‘ah’ his ears gently flicking. “Like what exactly? Tell me exactly what you ObSeRvEd, big red.” You mocked his voice tilting your head from side to side, briefly he squinted his eyes at you giving you the impression you’d managed to finally get under his skin a bit. Noted.
“You always avoid my gaze, sometimes, oh my, do you stare, let me see-” His nails one by one came down against the wood of the bar, tapping repeatedly. “Not convinced, I do all those things cause i hate you.” Your face was as flat as your tone, no emotion there whatsoever, but Alastor lazily looked over to you his head tilted ever so slightly.
“You cannot have hate without love my dear.” Had there been booze in your mouth you would’ve done a spit take, thankfully though there wasn’t, instead you slammed your fist against the bar cackling manically. “That’s such bullshit!” The exclamation was loud your voice lifted an octave as you laughed. The deer once again waved his hand refilling your glass and sipping at his own. “It’s true little imp. How can you hate something you never liked to begin with?”
Now that stunted you, your laughing ceased as did your insane thrashing around on the barstool. Your face scrunched as you thought through the words he said over and over. He was right, and that’s what was getting you, technically he was right. “Mm, maybe because it’s annoying.” You finally say with a tone that basically said ‘duh’.
“So you know you hate something before you like it, because it’s annoying?” Alastor repeated voice lifting with false intrigued. You nodded drunkenly gulping down more of your poison in a glass. “How did you feel before you established it’s annoying?” Your lip quirked up, you felt confused at that. You shook your head, head falling towards him, neck stretched slightly. “Nothing because he’s always annoying.”
“Who?” You slapped your hand against your face, either Alastor was playing dumb, or he was. It was obvious to you, that he was that ‘it’ you were talking about. Deciding to not even respond you return to your position. Your hand fiddled with the glass as your eyes danced loosely around the back of the bar as you sat in momentary silence. “You’re not even that hot.” You slurred, mentally noting that you were started to get a little drunk, and to slow down a bit.
Alastor chortled his radio sounding out a laugh track with him. “Please dear, I know plenty of sinners who think otherwise.” Rolling your eyes you put your lips to the glass remarking, “go bug them then,” before taking your drink. Alastor kissed his teeth at you, filling up his glass this time and taking a polite swig.
“I’m just trying to keep you company in your time of need.” You groaned in disbelief, watching as he sipped his alcohol watching you from the corner of his eye. “You should go, especially since you have sooo many people desiring your company.” You mock making exaggerated faces as you spoke, your behaviour wasn’t too out of the ordinary as you were a fairly theatrical demon yourself, but not with Alastor. He was only granted the most minimal aspects of your personality so he couldn’t use anything against you.
The demon quirked his brow, spinning the seat he faced you, one arm on the bar still gripping his liquor. “Oh but I do! So many women and men are just throwing themselves at my feet, so many fans of my broadcast. Oh and if i may, some are quite the sight. I might even say some had my eye,” Resting his head on his hand which had released his cup to rest his head, he stared at you through lidded eyes that told you he was teasing you. You again noticed he was trying to poke you, annoy you, but still couldn’t stop the way your teeth grit and your face crunched, hell even your stomach clenched making the warm alcohol crawl up your oesophagus.
Growling you tipped your glass, bottoms up right? You slapped you cup down empty, though it didn’t stay for long before it refilled itself. “Would you stop filling my fucking up?” You snap, following in suit with turning your body towards him. Your knees brushed against eachother as you spun your chair but you barely cared. “Darling, stop drinking it so fast and I won't fill it.” The way he remarked, throwing his free hand around lazily made you want to rip his face off. “I want to leave, that’s why i’m drinking.”
Checking his nails meticulously, the demon ignored you. Tonight wasn’t the night and you could feel the overwhelming emotions start to ripple up from where you pushed them down, like a tsunami. Thankfully no angry tears fell, and you managed to regain your composure by hiding behind your tilted cup, only getting yourself drunker than you already were, or needed to be. “Why do you care to bother me?” You urged jabbing your chest with your finger.
Surprisingly the radio demon was silent, more silent than ever, no ambient radio, no hum nor scoff, just erie silence. You watch his face stay still, eyes stuck forward, with an annoyed sigh you snapped your fingers in front of his face. His eyes darted down soaking in your drunken state, eyes filled with impatience. A different type of smile took over his face, the look he gave you might be even considered flirtatious, but with Alastor you never knew.
“You’re just so fun to annoy, I get such a kick from watching you suffer!” Scowling you face soured as the tsunami of emotions creeped up again. You stood from your seat, barstool screeching like nails on a chalkboard. You without another word marched away leaving the full cup on the bar. You got to your room thankfully without any bother from the red devil. In your hazy state, you haphazardly tossed various belongings you had on the bed. You were so tired of feeling pathetic and small, you wanted to go back to where you somewhat belong. You wished you were strong like Angel, he’s so much stronger for being able to put up with Val, you can’t even put up with Al without running off, and Alastor’s not as bad.
Tears began to fall in self pity as an avalanche of emotion and memories crashed down on you fueling your erratic packing. Walking into the ensuite bathroom you had, you closed the door and sat on the toilet seat, trying to calm your rapid breaths and calm your heart. Your face burnt and your chest felt tight, this was idiotic, you continually chanted to yourself. Taking a final deep breathe you washed your face in an attempt to sober and cover up the tear tracks. When you left the bathroom you gasped stepping back, fear momentarily flooded your system and quickly fizzled out.
There stood Alastor patiently waiting, hands tucked behind his back beside your bed. “What the hell are you doing?” Your tone was harsh as you barreled further into the room nearing him, finger pointed at him ready to prod at his chest. Before you could speak again, or land your finger on him, he speedily gripped your wrist, drawing your attention up. “Oh hush, dear, always so angry. I just came to check on you after you left so abruptly, and then i heard banging and this awful squeaky sound.” The look in his eyes told you that awful squeak must’ve been your sobs.
“Okay great you checked, i’m good, now leave.” Gently you wiggled your wrist from his hold, and moved it from him and then the door. Alastor hummed flatly, turning he slowly waltzed around your bed looking down at the things that were on it, including the suitcases. “No can do dearie, seems you’re trying to make an escape. That’s quite emotionally immature don’t you think?” You slouched over, grunting at him. You simply decided to work around him, he wasn’t going to talk you out of leaving. Unfortunately you were drunkenly set on leaving, and though Charlie would probably be very upset, you knew she had plenty of support here.
Static fizzled ominously from him as you continued to ignore his presence, ignoring his calls to you, or one off comments about your clothing choices, he even began to materialise right in front of where you were headed making you bump into him. Despite all that, you’d just move around him, and not listen to a word he said. You even began to hum as you folded your clothes. “Darling you are being-” You spun from your position hunched over the clothes, bumping past him you intended to go to the bathroom to grab your toiletries unfortunately that small gesture of rudeness was the snap for Alastor.
Antlers growing in size the demon gripped you from behind and tossed you on the free space of bed. You yelped as you were tossed, landing somewhat softly amongst the things on your bed. Gripping your ankle, you were yanked by him to the edge, his hand coming down to wrap itself around your neck. Leaning over you dials in his eyes he statically hissed at you. It was a sight you weren’t used to seeing, he didn’t even show genuine anger when Mimzy led the loan sharks to the hotels door. You didn’t necessarily feel fear staring up at the ballistic looking animal man, but you weren’t comfortable that’s for sure. You’d been in this position before and unless you die, you more than likely will be again.
Still intoxicated you just limply laid there waiting for him to either break your neck, choke you, or set you free. At this point you didn’t care which happened just that he’d hurry it up. “You aren’t leaving the hotel dear, so when i let you up, you’re going to unpack.” Your looked at him with disgust, his antlers coming back to their original size, his claws retracting soothing your aching neck slightly, and his eyes returning from their dial form. “If this is about Charlie, she won’t mind, i won’t even tell her you did it, now get off.” Your voice came out raspy from his tight grasp, but it wasn’t too painful.
“This isn’t about Charlie.” The words came out punctuated and harsh, like part of him didn’t even want to say it. “Then what is this all about, let me go.” You began to wiggle, raising your hips in an attempt to buck him off, but instead he dropped his hips on top of yours weighing you down. “I don’t know,” He grit angrily, his eyes returning to the wide eye dial. “I have no clue what my particular fascination is with you. The worst part is, you’re tight; why don’t I just leave you be?”
Groaning and lulling your head back, you think to yourself that he’s playing some awful trick. “Oh for fuck sakes Alastor cut the shit!” His neck cracked as his head tilted unhealthily to the side, his face inching closer to yours. He watched you closely, the uncertainty evident in your eyes; he doesn’t blame you for being so weary but he hates it. “Oh my, such crude language,” Tutting softly he brought his face directly in front of yours, lips inches away, eyes locked, there was no room for you to run, he had you pinned and cornered.
You couldn’t help but feel slightly aroused at the way he sat across your hips weighing you down, his hand resting against your neck compared to the original squeeze it had, and his other hand splayed right next to your head to keep himself balanced as he hovered over your face, it was an erotic position in your mind. Instinctively your hands went to his chest attempting to keep distance, but he pushed against it, disregarding any boundary that there was. “How could I change that snappy tone, make you stay, and believe me?” His tone was raised with a false sense of curiosity and cluelessness.
With a deep chuckle that could’ve been a demented giggle, Alastor crashed his lips against yours harshly. You squeaked at the contact of his warm lips against yours, and he quickly darted out a pitch forked tongue taking your breath away in one foul swoop. Despite your brain screeching at you to pull away, kick him, do something! You didn’t, you couldn’t, you were loving every second of him.
He smelt oddly like woodchips mixed with expensive cologne, his lips pressed against yours with hard intent but the way they danced against yours was gentle. His smile stayed put, though it was relaxed, his lips were cracked and rough against yours. His hair tickled your forehead, and around your neck his thumb gently caressed back and forth.
Under all the stimulation of just Alastors being, you completely gave in, melting into the mattress. You didn’t even know how tense you were until your muscles relaxed letting Alastor’s body sink further into you. You hummed softly against him trying to stay at the forefront of your mind instead of losing yourself in him, it was too risky at this point.
Alastor pulled away, your lips glistened with wayward saliva, though the kiss wasn’t too long nor too messy, it still was pretty intense. It seemed Alastor kissed you with frustration as motivation. Your eyes were lidded as you stared up at him as he looked down at you in admiration, the first time he’d ever looked at you softly, at least from what you could recall.
“What happened to being a weak imp?” You asked softly, voice wobbly. Chuckling lowly Alastor had what could be described as a fond smile on his face. “You still are,” Your mouth stretched into a flat line as did your eyebrows. “But, you’re a weak imp i feel called to protect. A weak Imp who can be strong if alongside me.” The demon sounded sly and calculated as he spoke but his face and actions contradict his words; they were soft. Alastor removed his hand from your neck gently cupping your cheek and caressing it as he spoke.
You truly couldn’t tell whether or not he was manipulating you or being honest, but the only way to find out, was to chance it.
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redr0sewrites · 1 month
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Can you write Vox x reader where like the reader just says like really unhinged things and just like vile things whenever they rage and stuff like the internet could be slow or smth and the reader is just like “IM GOING TO RIP OFF MY SKIN” idk man I’m kinda just self projecting rn like you can right anything with it tbh idk sorry for rambling anyway you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna
THIS IS SO MEEEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!! sorry it took me a hot minute to reply to this i have over 70 hazbin hotel requests in my inbox 😭
🥀Cw: fluff, crack, silly vox
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when he first met you, vox was charmed by your seemingly sweet nature- that is, until you were pissed
your unholy screech of how you were going to rip off your skin if he cut the wifi again was both endearing and confusing in his eyes
vox would just short circuit for a second, just blinking at you while he tries to process what you just said
once it clicks, he just starts giggling. vox very rarely genuinely laughs, most of his laughs are professional or part of the persona he adopts as the leader of vox enterprises, but when he's so shocked by what you just said, he can't control the booming laughter thay fills the room
he's wheezing and gasping, each barking laugh only pissing you off more
"what's so funny? if you keep laughing i am going to fucking break ur fingers like carrot sticks!" you snap, and vox only giggles harder
after a few seconds, you can't help but notice how adorable his laughter is, and soon you don't mind it as much
once you two are officially together, you notice how stressed vox often is, yet how he seems to visibly relax around you
the batshit crazy things you say, which normally disgusts other people, only seem to amuse him
its actually a wonderful dynamic because you bring some spontaneity and slight insanity into vox's otherwise irritating and depressing lifestyle, and vox balances out the crazy things you say and calms you down every time
you often find yourself searching for new phrases to baffle him with, and for new ways to make him laugh
after vox has a stressful day, he enjoys just listening to you ramble about the most insane things and adores hearing whatever fucked up saying you've adopted recently
vox notices himself beginning to copy your speech patterns. he only begins to realize when he slips in an exceptionally odd metaphor into a work meeting and everyone stares at him, yet his heart skips a beat at the thought
there's something so charming to him about the fact that he's adopting your mannerisms, and you truly make him laugh when no one else can
whenever another one of the vees pisses him off, he always comes to you for advice on incredibly deranged comebacks, and you never disappoint!
he's won multiple arguments by just repeating one of your fucked up sayings and the other vees being too lowkey shocked to disagree
vox LOVES IT when you diss people he hates, hearing you ramble some fucked up insults about alastor made him fall in love with you all over again
"that worm on a string fucked up karen cut bob looking ass- if i see him around here again im going to eat a fucking brick" *cue vox looking at you with the biggest heart eyes*
overall, you are both menaces, but you're menaces in love ♥️
vox lay with his head in your lap, the blue light of his screen illuminating the dim room as you rambled mindlessly about your day.
"and THEN, this fucking asshole tried to flirt with me! ME!! as if he doesn't know were dating! ugh, it makes me feel like i have an entire beehive living beneath my skin. i swear if he even looks at me again im going to lick wet cement i can NOT deal. how can you even work with him? he's such a fucking CREEP voxy, i'm going to cut off those ugly ass wings and shove them so far down his throat- hey, are you even listening?"
you look down to see vox half asleep, his eyelids drooping as his light dimmed. "keep talking.." he murmurs, looking up at you with a lazy smile on his face. "you're my favorite person t' listen to.."
i love the idea of vox with a partner who challenges his very idea of power. he clearly wraps himself in a sort of persona, surrounding himself with powerful people and acting like he's so serious and important. i love the idea of him falling in love with someone who can break down his walls in seconds, someone who can dismantle his entire bravado act and who allows him to truly be himself. this is such a wonderful prompt and i am eating this up. nonnie ur awesome!!!!
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bbyjackie · 8 months
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𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍' 𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍' 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍
do they trust your driving? one piece + driving feat: like the whole one piece cast lol
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(header by gh2ting)
you think you're a passenger princess? nah, you're a passenger survivor. these delusional ones that think you suck at driving and always make fun of you when you're behind the wheel, but the moment it's THEIR turn to drive, it's like y'all are in GTA. and you can't even call them out on it cause they actually think they're like an F1 driver and will not take ANY criticism.
ace. kid. LUFFY. buggy. roger. FRANKY.
nervous smile on their face whilst they're GRIPPING the car seat so freaking tight. listen close enough and you can hear the nervous chatter of their teeth. they don't have the heart to tell you to stop the car, but the moment you swerve a little too fast you best bet they're opening that car door and walking the rest of the way there.
chopper. CORAZON. vivi. bepo. ace.
absolutely does NOT trust you. you wouldn't even be allowed near the wheel, but if you somehow manage to convince them, they would force you to stop mid way and switch because there was no way they would let you even NEAR the highway. also type to act like a parent teaching their kid how to drive. every two seconds they go 'SLOW. SLOW DOWN. YOU'RE GONNA HIT INTO THE CAR INFRONT OF US', even when you're a good five meters behind the car. you both defs start screaming at each other and end up going 90 in a 40.
usopp. IZOU. crocodile. NAMI. sabo. iceberg. lucci.
the BEST person to drive with because they are patient and don't mind if you accidentally take a wrong turn. will give advice whilst driving like 'okay make sure you turn on your indicator'. if you get stressed out, the coax you to pull over on the side of the road and will help you calm down before encouraging you to drive again. pls they are literally the only people you can trust to get on the road with.
robin. LAW. mihawk. marco. rayleigh. jinbe.
will not hesitate to tell you that you suck ass but will help you drive. it's all good with this drive if you can take a couple of insults because you eventually do get better with driving if they're with you. you might get your feelings hurt a little though.
LAW. nami. rayleigh.
you're not driving, they are. the whole time you guys will be arguing with each other cause they have NO chill and will lean over the glove box to turn the wheel or honk the horn with absolutely no warning. absolutely the worst people to have as a passenger because 90% of the time you're gonna be late to your destination cause you got into an accident.
kid. DOFLAMINGO. shanks. crocodile. BOA. perona. LUFFY. ace.
they don't tell you that you suck at driving. even when you don't slow down for a speed bump and they end up getting a concussion. they're too preoccupied with your feelings and don't want to hurt you. so cute of them but this just means that you STAY sucking at driving. everyone gets concerned when you guys show up and they have a nasty bruise protruding on their forehead.
SANJI. bartolomeo (only if ur a strawhat lol). ace. brook. yamato.
calm ride but you're never getting there if you ask them for directions. it's kinda on you for trusting them.
zoro. aokiji.
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